sneaking away, each looking like he'd been caught with his nose under
the lid of the slop-can.

We sat down together, and we all three just talked as fast as we could.
They was so pleased that I couldn't help feeling proud myself, and I
barked and leaped about so gay that all the bull-terriers in our street
stretched on their chains and howled at me.

"Just look at him!" says one of those I had beat. "What's he giving
hisself airs about?"

"Because he's got one blue ribbon!" says another of 'em. "Why, when I
was a puppy I used to eat 'em, and if that judge could ever learn to
know a toy from a mastiff, I'd have had this one."

But Jimmy Jocks he leaned over from his bench and says, "Well done, Kid.
Didn't I tell you so?" What he 'ad told me was that I might get a
"commended," but I didn't remind him.

"Didn't I tell you," says Jimmy Jocks, "that I saw your grandfather make
his debut at the Crystal--"

"Yes, sir, you did, sir," says I, for I have no love for the men of my
family.

A gentleman with a showing-leash around his neck comes up just then and
looks at me very critical. "Nice dog you've got, Miss Wyndham," says he;
"would you care to sell him?"

"He's not my dog," says Miss Dorothy, holding me tight. "I wish he
were."

"He's not for sale, sir," says the Master, and I was _that_ glad.

"Oh, he's yours, is he?" says the gentleman, looking hard at Nolan.
"Well, I'll give you a hundred dollars for him," says he, careless-like.

"Thank you, sir; he's not for sale," says Nolan, but his eyes get very
big. The gentleman he walked away; but I watches him, and he talks to a
man in a golf-cap, and by and by the man comes along our street, looking
at all the dogs, and stops in front of me.

"This your dog?" says he to Nolan. "Pity he's so leggy," says he. "If he
had a good tail, and a longer stop, and his ears were set higher, he'd
be a good dog. As he is, I'll give you fifty dollars for him."

But before the Master could speak, Miss Dorothy laughs and says: "You're
Mr. Polk's kennel-man, I believe. Well, you tell Mr. Polk from me that
the dog's not for sale now any more than he was five minutes ago, and
that when he is, he'll have to bid against me for him."

The man looks foolish at that, but he turns to Nolan quick-like. "I'll
give you three hundred for him," he says.

"Oh, indeed!" whispers Miss Dorothy, like she was talking to herself.
"That's it, is it?" And she turns and looks at me just as though sh