"You dasn't hurt a fly when he is around. Lucky for the monk that the
man happened to stop in front of his house this mornin'. Come on, lets
see what they do with it."
The children trooped off after him, and Phil and Elsie watched them
down the street until they were out of sight, pushing and tripping at
each other's heels in their eagerness to follow.
Then Phil climbed up on one of the gate-posts with me in his arms,
and Elsie promptly scrambled up to the other.
"That's what might happen to Dago any day, sister," Phil said, in a
solemn voice, as he hugged me tight. If we give him up, some old
organ-grinder may get him, and beat him and beat him, and be cruel to
him, and I'm just not going to let anybody have him. I'll hide him
somewhere so nobody can find him."
"Trouble is he won't stay hid," answered Elsie, with a mournful look
in her big blue eyes. "We'll have to think of some other plan."
It was a cold morning, but there they perched on the gate-posts, and
thought and thought until the school-bell began to ring.
CHAPTER V.
WHAT DAGO TOLD ON FRIDAY.
Before the bell stopped ringing, some one called Elsie to the house to
get ready for kindergarten, and Phil ran down to the stable with me.
He tied me to an iron ring in one of the stalls by a halter. Of course
any knot that a boy of that size could tie would not keep me a
prisoner very long.
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