" The dog we took back wasn't the same dog as the dog we took."
" It looked jus' the same," said William.
"It didn't look quite the same," said Ginger. "I mean, it was the same make of dog all rightóa fox-terrieróbut it wasn't exactly the same dog. I'm almost sure it wasn't. You see," he explained simply, " I'm one of its friends. I know it."
William was aghast.
" Crumbs ! " he said helplessly. " Well, it'll have to stay there now. If it's not the right one / can't help it. The man it belongs to 'll have to find the right one. I've jus' about had enough of to-day."
They reached the racecourse once more. Jumble darted off again among the trees and William collected the bits of clockwork mouse and began to try to put them together again.
" You'll never do it," said Ginger gloomily. " There's sixpence gone. An' all the money we spent on the refreshments. An' all the money we might 've got through the bettin' if Jumble had any sense. Greyhound Racin'' ! " he exploded sarcastically, " he ought to 've been a monkey on a barrel-organ for all the sense he's got. Fancy a dog not havin' enough sense to race with another dog and run after a mouse. I'd be ashamed of havin' a dog that hadn't enough sense for that."
William, stung to the quick by this attack on his pet, rose to his defence indignantly.
" Oh, you would, would you ? Well, let me tell you that Jumble couldn't race 'cause he's got too much sense for it. That's what it is. He's too intell'gent to make a racin' dog. That's what it is. Too intell'gent. Racin' dogs are all stupid. They've gotter be so stupid that they think a clockwork hare's a real hare and run after it. Well, Jumble's too intelVgent for that. He knew it wasn't a real one and that was why he wouldn't race after it 'cause he's too