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.