m of recollection.

"Yep. That's him," assented Link. "Only dawg I've got. Only dawg I ever
had. Only dawg I ever want to have. He's--"

But the postmaster was not attending. His time was limited. So, taking
out a fountain pen, he had begun to scribble on the blank. Filling in
Link's name and address, he wrote, in the "breed and sex" spaces, the
words, "Scotch collie, sable-and-white, male."

"Name?" he queried, breaking in on Ferris's rambling eulogy.

"Huh?" asked the surprised Link, adding: "Oh, his name, hey? I call him
'Chum.' You see, that dawg's more like a chum to me than--"

"No use asking about his pedigree, I suppose," resumed the postmaster,
"I mean who his parents were and--"

"Nope," said Link. "I--I found him. His leg was--"

"Pedigree unknown," wrote the postmaster; then, "What classes are you
entering him for?"

"Classes?" repeated Link dully. "Why, I just want to put him into that
contest for 'best dawg,' you see. He--"

"Hold on!" interposed the postmaster impatiently. "You don't catch the
idea. In each breed there are a certain number of classes: 'Puppy,'
'Novice,' 'Limit,' 'Open,' and so on. The dogs that get a blue
ribbon--that's first prize--in these classes all have to appear in what
is called the 'Winners Class.' Then the dog that gets 'Winner's'--the
dog that gets first prize in this 'Winners' Class'--competes for best
dog of his breed in the show. After that--as a 'special'--the best in
all the different breeds are brought into the ring. And the dog that
wins in that final class is adjudged the 'best in the show.' He's the
dog in this particular show that will get Colonel Marden's
hundred-dollar cash prize. See what I mean?"

"Ye-es," replied Link, after digesting carefully what he had heard. "I
guess so. But--"

"Since you've never shown your dog before," went on the postmaster,
beginning to warm with professional interest, "you can enter him in the
'Novice Class.' That's generally the easiest. If he loses in that, no
harm's done. If he wins he has a chance later in the 'Winners' Class.'
I'm mailing my entry to-night to the committee. If you like, I'll send
yours along with it. Give me a dollar."

While Link extracted a greasy dollar bill from his pocket, the
postmaster filled in the class space with the word "Novice."

"Thanks for helpin' me out," said Ferris, grateful for the lift.

"That's all right," returned the postmaster, pocketing the bill and
folding the blank, as h