The judge was gone. The
dismissal of Sabina, though a pleasant and satisfying form of
vengeance, would not bring the lost three pounds back again; while
there might be a good deal of trouble in getting another cook.
"Before I go," said Sabina, who did not want to go, and was watching
Doyle's face for signs of relenting, "before I go I've a message to
give you from Mr. Meldon."
"I seen him myself this morning," said Doyle, "and I don't know what
there could be in the way of a message for me that he wouldn't have
told me himself."
"What he bid me tell you was this--" Sabina paused. "Well now," she
said, "if I haven't gone and forgot the name of the dog!"
"Was it a dog that a king killed one time," said Doyle, "on account of
his thinking it had his baby ate?"
"It might," said Sabina. "It was a queer name he had on it, and I
disremember what it was."
"I disremember it myself," said Doyle, "but it was likely the same dog
as he was telling me about when I was driving him in. He always did
have a liking for dogs, that same Meldon."
"It might be that one or it might be another. Any way, he thought a
deal of it, for he said to me no later than this minute that if I
mentioned the name of it to you, you wouldn't hunt me.
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