MAYNARD: What's that! You mean to say that this dog goes without food?

HARVEY: That's the idea exactly.

(FELIX shows signs of disgust. He can work up some funny business by taking off his mask whenever HARVEY and MAYNARD are talking together and quickly slipping it on again when he thinks their attention is directed towards him.)

MAYNARD: Why, it's preposterous. You don't suppose I would keep a dog around the house and never feed him?

HARVEY: I tell you this dog never eats.

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 sc.r.a.p 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 sc.r.a.p 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.

FELIX: I can see myself in dog heaven already. And how about my share of the money?

HARVEY: The what?

FELIX: The money. The dough, the mazuma.

HARVEY: The money? Since when do dogs carry money? Ha, ha! That's a good joke. A very good joke. (Exits at R. 2.)

MAYNARD: (Re-enters from house.) And now to see if I can't make friends with the dog.

(FELIX barks furiously at MAYNARD as soon as he comes near.)

MAYNARD: He is just the animal to keep Viola's lover away. I will call her out, and show her the dog. (Calls off to house.) Oh, Viola! (Dog snaps at MAYNARD as latter pa.s.ses him.)

VIOLA: (From the doorstep of house.) What do you want, father?

MAYNARD: I want to show you the new dog I bought. (Dog barks furiously.) See if you can make friends with him.

(VIOLA approaches FELIX, who leans his head affectionately against her and puts his arm around her waist.)

VIOLA: He seems to like me all right, father.

MAYNARD: I cannot understand it.

VIOLA: Perhaps he doesn't like men.

FELIX: (Aside.) No; I ain't that kind of a dog.