Flopit was baresark from the first, and the mystery is where he learned the dog-cursing that he did. In spite of the David-and-Goliath difference in size it would be less than justice to deny that a very fair dog-fight took place. It was so animated, in truth, that the one expert in such matters who was present found himself warmly interested. Genesis relieved himself of the burden of the wash-tub upon his back, dropped the handle of that other in which he had a half-interest, and watched the combat; his mouth, like his eyes, wide open in simple pleasure. He was not destined to enjoy the spectacle to the uttermost; a furious young person struck him a frantic, though harmless, blow with a pink parasol. “You stop them!” she screamed. “You make that horrible dog stop, or I'll have you arrested!” Genesis rushed forward. “You CLEM!” he shouted. And instantly Clematis was but a whitish and brownish streak along the hedge. He ran like a dog in a moving picture when they speed the film, and he shot from sight, once more, round the corner, while Flopit, still cursing, was seized and squeezed in his mistress's embrace. But she was not satisfied. “Where's that laundryman with the tin thing on his head?” she demanded. “He ought to be arrested for having such a dog. It's HIS dog, isn't it? Where is he?” Genesis turned and looked round about the horizon, mystified. William Sylvanus Baxter and the clothes-boiler had disappeared from sight. “If he owns that dog,” asserted the still furious owner of Flopit, “I WILL have him arrested. Where is he? Where is that laundryman?” “Why, he,” Genesis began slowly, “HE ain' no laundrym--” He came to an uncertain pause. If she chose to assume, with quick feminine intuition, that the dog was William's and that William was a laundryman, it was not Genesis's place to enlighten her. “'Tic'larly,” he reflected, “since she talk so free about gittin' people 'rested!” He became aware that William had squirmed through the hedge and now lay prostrate on the other side of it, but this, likewise, was something within neither his duty nor his inclination to reveal. “Thishere laundryman,” said Genesis, resuming--“thishere laundryman what own the dog, I reckon he mus' hopped on 'at street-car what went by.” “Well, he OUGHT to be arrested!” she said, and, pressing her cheek to Flopit's, she changed her tone. “Izzum's ickle heart a-beatin' so floppity! Um's own mumsy make ums all right, um's p'eshus Flopit!” Then with the consoling Miss Parcher's arm about her, and Mr. Watson even more dazzled with love than when he had first met her, some three hours past, she made her way between the tubs, and passed on down the street. Not till the three (and Flopit) were out of sight did William come forth from the hedge. “Hi yah!” exclaimed Genesis. “'At lady go'n a 'rest ev'y man what own a dog, 'f she had her way!” But William spoke no word.