ead in a story book about a feller that had a thing like that put
up to him," said poor Link, unable to believe she was in earnest. "His
girl said: 'You gotta choose between me and tobacco.' And he said:
'I'll choose tobacco. Not that I value tobacco so all-fired much,' he
says, 'but because a girl, who'd make a man take such a choice, ain't
worth giving up tobacco for.' You see, dearie, it's this way--"

"You'll have that dog out of your house and out of your possession,
inside of twenty-four hours," she decreed, the white anger of a
grave-eyed woman making her cold voice vibrate, "or you will drop my
acquaintance. That is final. And it's definite. The engagement is
over--until I hear that your dog is killed or given away or sold. Good
night!"

She left the room in vindictive haste. So overwhelmingly angry was she
that she closed the door softly behind her, instead of slamming it.
Through all his swirl of misery Link had sense enough to note this
final symptom and wonder bitterly at it.

On his way out of the house he was hailed by a highpitched baby voice
from somewhere above him. Olive had crawled out of bed, and in her
white flannel pajamas she was leaning over the upper balustrade.

"Link!" she called down to the wretched man at the front door. "When
you and Dorcas gets married together, I'm comin' to live wiv you! Then
I can play wiv Chummie all I want to!"

Link bolted out to the street in the midst of her announcement. And, so
occupied was he in trying to swallow a lump in his own throat, he
failed to hear the sound of stifled sobbing from behind a locked door
somewhere in the upper reaches of the house.

As the night wore on, the sleepless girl sought to comfort herself in
the thought that Link had not definitely refused her terms. A night's
reflection and an attitude of unbending aloofness on her own part might
well bring him to a surrender.

Perhaps it was something in Link Ferris's dejected gait, as he turned
into his own lane that night, perhaps it was the instinct which tells a
collie when a loved human is unhappy--but Chum was at once aware of his
master's woe. The dog, at first sound of Link's approaching steps,
bounded from his vigil place on the porch and frisked joyously through
the darkness to meet him. He sent forth a trumpeting bark of welcome as
he ran.

Then--fifty feet from the oncoming man--the big collie halted and stood
for an instant with ears cocked and eyes troubled. After which h