The fad that an unfortunate member of the canine race possesses n rather lurid appellation should not necessarily mean that the free passage of his breath ought to be prevented by means of a piece of hemp, Plump and Runt were jail birds. A religious revival hits a burled chord in their being and they reform in so much as they get jobs as a butler and as a chef. The same household shelters a wayward son, who is being bled by a woman of the world. To meet his demand for money his sister steals her friends' money and jewels, the blame falling upon our (this time innocent) heroes. How they emerge from the clouds of suspicion and finally bring the real culprits to justice is graphically told in the picture. The closing scenes show them, covered with virtuous indignation, vegetables and a few clothes, enthroned among the household gods.