MAYNARD:  Why, that’s cruelty to animals!

HARVEY:  Well, if you feel that way about it, you might go out into an empty lot and get some rusty tomato cans and a few pieces of scrap iron and feed those to him.

MAYNARD:  Does he enjoy such things?

HARVEY:  Certainly he does.  In fact, if you were to put a choice piece of juicy tenderloin steak before him right now that dog wouldn’t touch it.

MAYNARD:  A most remarkable animal.

FELIX:  (Taking off his dog mask, aside.) I’m going home.

HARVEY:  (Aside, to FELIX.) Shut up or you’ll spoil everything.

(FELIX makes a grab for MAYNARD’S leg.)

MAYNARD:  Help!  Help!  Your dog is killing me.

HARVEY:  Don’t get frightened, Mr. Maynard, he is perfectly domesticated and will eat off your hand.

MAYNARD:  Yes; he’ll eat off my leg, too, if I’m not careful.

HARVEY:  (To FELIX.) Lie down, Otto, lie down, I say. (Kicks FELIX, who lets go of MAYNARD’S leg.)

MAYNARD:  (Going quickly out of harm’s way, yet delighted.) Just the dog I want—­a fine animal.  I am sure with him around that Charlie Doolittle won’t dare to show his face on the premises.

HARVEY:  Better buy him while you have the chance.

MAYNARD:  (Taking roll of bills from pocket and counting out the money.) I think I will.  Here’s the thousand dollars.

HARVEY:  And now the dog is yours.

(MAYNARD fastens dog to exterior of dog-house.)

MAYNARD:  I hope I have better luck with him than I had with my other dogs.

HARVEY:  Why, what do you mean?

FELIX:  (In back-ground.) Yes, please explain yourself.

MAYNARD:  (Chuckling.) Well, you see my neighbors ain’t very fond of dogs and as fast as I get one they either poison him or shoot him.

FELIX:  (In back-ground.) I can see my finish.

HARVEY:  Well, it won’t make any difference with this dog.  You can fill him full of bullets and he won’t even feel it.

FELIX:  (Aside.) No, I’ll be dead.

HARVEY:  (Continuing.) And as for poisoned meat, why, he would rather have Paris green or strychnine on his meat than salt.

MAYNARD:  (Chuckling.) Certainly a remarkable animal.  And now, if you will excuse me a minute, I will go into the house and tell my daughter about the dog. (He exits into house.)

HARVEY:  (Gleefully.) The scheme worked beautifully and I am just a thousand dollars ahead.

FELIX:  (Indignantly.) What do you mean by telling him that I eat tin cans and scrap iron?

HARVEY:  Why, that was only a little joke on my part.

FELIX:  Oh, it was a joke, was it?  And suppose the neighbors fire their pistols at me and riddle me with bullets, what then?

HARVEY:  Why, simply don’t notice it.  Anyhow, don’t complain to me, you’re the dog, not I, and if the neighbors kill you, that’s not my funeral.