e got to his feet,
winking back a mist from his red eyes, and turning blindly toward the
door.

"Here!" boomed Marden after him. "You've forgotten your check."

"I don't aim to take no measly money fer givin' up the only friend I
got!" snarled Link over his shoulder. "Keep it--fer a tip!"

It was a good exit line. But it was spoiled. Because, as Ferris reached
the door and groped for its knob, Chum was beside him--glad to get out
of this uncongenial assembly and to be alone with the master who seemed
so unhappy and so direly in need of consolation. Link stiffened to his
full height. With one hand lovingly laid on the collie's silken head,
he mumbled:

"No, Chum, you can't come along. Back, boy! Stay HERE!"

Lowering at Gault, he added:

"He ain't never been hit, nor yet swore at. An' he don't need to be.
Treat him nice, like he's used to bein' treated. An' don't get sore on
him if he mopes fer me, jes' at fust. Because he's sure to. Dogs ain't
like folks. They got hearts. Folks has only got souls. I guess dogs has
the best of it, at that."

Ferris swung open the door and stumbled out, not trusting himself for a
backward glance at the wistfully grieved dog he had left behind.

Lurchingly he made off, across the lawn and out through the wicket. He
was numb and sick. He moved mechanically and with no conscious power of
thought or of locomotion.

Out in the highroad, a homing instinct guided his leaden feet in the
direction of Hampton. And he plodded dazedly the interminable four
miles that separated him from his desolate farm.

As he turned in at his own gate, he was aware of a poignant dread that
pierced his numbness. And he knew it for a dread of entering the house
and of finding no one to welcome him. Setting his teeth he went
forward, unlocked the door and stamped into the silent kitchen.

Upon the table he dumped the paper-swathed cup he had been carrying
unnoticed under his arm. Beside it he threw the little purse full of
gold pieces and the wad of prize ribbons. Stepping back, his foot
struck something. He looked down and saw it was a gay-colored rubber
ball he had bought, months ago, for Chum--the dog's favorite plaything.

His face twisting, Link snatched up the ball and went out onto the
steps to throw it far out of sight; that it might no more remind him of
the pet who had so often coaxed him to toss it for retrieval.

Ferris hurled the ball far out into the garden. As the missile left his
hand a