hungry," admitted Hans. "But I t'ought he vos hungry after me; so!"
"He was hungry after you," cried Paul Drew, who had witnessed the chase, and he doubled up with laughter.
"You can come down now," suggested Dick. "Grit won't hurt you."
"Vait until he has all dot meat eaten up, den I comes down," replied Hans. "He vunt be hungry so much alretty," and he would not descend until Grit, licking his chops, had gone to lie down in the sun.
"How did it happen?" asked the young millionaire. "I never knew Grit to chase any of his friends."
"I ain't no friend to him—not no more—no, sir," declared Hans, firmly. "I vos goin' to feed der dogs, as you tolt me, Herr Hamilton, und I got der meat, und I gif der little dog some first, und den your big dog, he growled avay down in his throat, und he took after me, un—veLl—I runs, mit der meat—dot's all; see?"
"Yes, I see," spoke Dick. "Grit was jealous because you fed the puppy before you fed him. Grit is used to eating at the first table. He didn't mean any harm."
"Dot's all right, only me an' him ain't friends no more, dot's all," said Hans, Vvath an injured air, as he descended to the deck. "I vos goin' to gif him—Ach Himmel! Der soup is burnin'! I schmell her!" and, with a cry of anguish, he ran
