"He's got to go," said Lucas, stroking Poacher's head, "an' mind me, dog," and he put his hand under the dog's jaws and lifted them so that he could look in his eyes, "no runnin' away from Ciscasset. Ye stay with that leetle gal. Don't ye come chasin' round here, 'cause if ye do, I'll turn my back on ye for a runaway, an' ye'll feel worse'n ye do now when we part on speakin' terms. Say, is it a bargain, ole feller? Call him, leetle gal."