He might send them to Wesley of course, but then he remembered that no one at Tom Coston's ever had a gun in their hands, and they would only be a charge and a nuisance to Peggy.

Or he might send them up into Carroll County to a farmer friend, but in that case he would have to pay their keep, and he needed the money for those at home.

And so he waited and pondered.
A coachman from across the park solved the difficulty a day or two later with a whispered word in Todd's ear, which set the boy's temper ablaze--for he dearly loved the dogs himself--until he had talked it over with Pawson and Gadgem, and had then broken the news to his master as best he could.
"Dem dogs is eatin' dere haids off," he began, fidgeting about the table, brushing the crumbs on to a tray only to spill half of them on the floor--"an' Mister Floyd's coachman done say dat his young marster's jes' a-dyin' for 'em an' don't cyar what he pay for 'em, dat is if ye--" but St.George cut him short.
"What did you say, Todd ?" "Why dat young marster dat's jes' come up f'om Ann'rundel--got mo' money den he kin th'ow 'way I yere." "And they are eating their heads off, are they ?--and he wants to swap his dirty money for my--Yes--I know.

They think they can buy anything with a banknote.

And its Floe and Dandy and Sue and Rupert, is it?
And I'm to sell them--I who have slept with them and ate with them and hugged them a thousand times.