me to his tingling ears a voice--clear, ringing, deep, the voice of
a woman--a woman he knew--pleading as his master used to plead,
calling on him not to run, but to stand.

"Steady," it said. "Steady, Comet!"

It called him to himself, it soothed him, it calmed him, and he turned
and looked toward the crowd. With the roar of the shotgun the usual
order observed in field trials was broken up. All rules seemed to have
been suspended. Ordinarily, no one belonging to "the field" is allowed
to speak to a dog. Yet the girl had spoken to him. Ordinarily, the
spectators must remain in the rear of the judges. Yet one of the
judges had himself wheeled his horse about and was galloping off, and
Marian Devant had pushed through the crowd and was riding toward the
bewildered dog.

He stood staunch where he was, though in his ears was still a
throbbing pain, and though all about him was this growing confusion he
could not understand. The man he feared was running across the field
yonder, in the direction taken by the judge. He was blowing his
whistle as he ran. Through the crowd, his face terrible to see, his
own master was coming. Both the old man and the girl had dismounted
now, and were running toward him.

"I heard," old Swygert was saying to her. "I heard it! I might 'a'
known! I might 'a' known!"

"He stood," she panted, "like a rock--oh, the brave, beautiful thing!"

"Where is that----" Swygert suddenly checked himself and looked
around.

A man in the crowd (they had all gathered about now), laughed.

"He's gone after his dog," he said. "Peerless has run away!"

FIFTY-TWO WEEKS FOR FLORETTE

By ELIZABETH ALEXANDER HEERMANN [ELIZABETH ALEXANDER in _Saturday
Evening Post_, August 13,1921.]

It had been over two months since Freddy Le Fay's bill had been paid,
and Miss Nellie Blair was worried. She had written to Freddy's mother
repeatedly, but there had been no answer.

"It's all your own fault, sister. You should never have taken Freddy,"
Miss Eva said sharply. "I told you so at the time, when I saw his
mother's hair. And of course Le Fay is not her real name. It looks to
me like a clear case of desertion."

"I can't believe it. She seemed so devoted," faltered Miss Nellie.

"Oh, a girl like that!" Miss Eva sniffed. "You should never have
consented."

"Well, the poor thing was so worried, and if it meant saving a child
from a dreadful life----"

"There are other schools more suitable."

"But, siste