(1) The Police Superintendent is walking across the market square followed by a constable. Suddenly…

(1) The Police Superintendent is walking across the market square followed by a constable. Suddenly he hears a loud shout, "So you bite, you damned brute? Lads, don't let the dog go! Biting is prohibited nowadays!" There is the sound of yelping and the Superintendent sees a dog running out of a timber-yard. A man runs after it and tries to seize the dog by its hind legs. Sleepy countenances protrude from the shops and soon a crowd gathers. (2) "It looks like a row, your honour", says the constable. The Superintendent turns to his left and strides towards the crowd. He sees the aforementioned man standing close by the gate of the timber-yard, holding his right hand in the air and displaying a bleeding finger to the crowd. He was the town's goldsmith. The culprit who has caused the sensation, a white puppy with a sharp muzzle and a yellow patch on its back, is sitting on the ground. "What's it all about?", the Superintendent inquires, pushing his way through the crowd, "Who was it that shouted?" (3) The goldsmith answers, "I was walking along here not interfering with anyone when this low brute, for no rhyme or reason, bit my finger. I am a working man. Mine is fine work. I must have damages, for I shan't be able to use this finger for a week." (4) "I won't let this pass! Find out whose dog it is and draw up a report!", the Superintendent commands the constable. (5) "I fancy it's General Zhigalov's dog", says someone in the crowd. Suddenly indignant, the Superintendent turns to the goldsmith and asks, "There's one thing I can't make out. How it could have bitten you? Surely it couldn't reach your finger. It's a little dog, and you are a great hulking fellow! You must have scratched your finger with a nail, and then the idea struck you to get damages for it. I know your sort!" (6) "No, that's not the General's dog", says the constable, with profound conviction, "the General has valuable dogs, and goodness knows what this is! No coat, no shape, a low creature." The Superintendent says, "You have been injured, goldsmith and we can't let the matter drop. You must be compensated for the damage." (7) "It is the General's, that's certain!", says a voice in the crowd. "Oh! Constable, take the dog to the General's and inquire there. Say I found it and sent it. And tell them not to let it out into the street. A dog is a delicate animal. And you, you goldsmith, put your hand down. It's your own fault." On seeing the General's cook approaching, the Superintendent asks him, "Is it one of yours?" "We have never had one like this", says the cook. "There's no need to waste time asking," decides the Superintendent, "it's a stray dog. Chase it away!" (8) "It's not our dog", the cook goes on, "it belongs to the General's brother who arrived the other day." "Is his Excellency's brother here? Delighted to hear it," says the Superintendent, and his whole face beams with an ecstatic smile, "it's not a bad pup. A lively creature, indeed. Come, why are you shivering, you nice little pup?" (9) The cook calls the dog and walks away from the timber-yard. (10) The crowd laughs at the goldsmith. Adapted from: A Chameleon by Anton Chekov