e prepared to end the interview by moving away.
"Be sure to have your dog at the gate leading into the Craigswold
Country Club grounds promptly at ten o'clock on Labor Day. If you don't
get a card and a tag sent to you, before then, tell your name to the
clerk at the table there, and he'll give you a number. Tie your dog to
the stall with that number on it, and be sure to have him ready to go
into the ring when his number is called. That's all."

"Thanks!" said Link, again. "An' now I guess I'll go back home an'
commence brightenin' Chum up, a wee peckle, on his tricks. Maybe I'll
have time to learn him some new ones, too. I want him to make a hit
with them judges, an' everything."

"Tricks?" scoffed the postmaster, pausing as he started to walk away.
"Dogs don't need tricks in the show ring. All you have to do is to lead
your dog into the ring, and parade him round with the rest of them till
the judge tells you to stop. Then he'll make them stand on the show
platform while he examines them. The dog's only 'tricks' are to stand
and walk at his best, and to look alert, so the judge can see the shape
of his ears and get his expression. Teach your dog to walk around with
you, on the leash, without hanging back, and to prick up his ears and
stand at attention when you tell him to. That's all he needs to do. The
judge will do the rest. Have him clean and well brushed, of course."

"I--I sure feel bitter sorry for there other dawgs at the show!"
mumbled Link. "A hundred dollars! Of all the dawgs that ever happened,
Chummie is that one! Why, there ain't a thing he can't do, from herdin'
sheep to winnin' a wad of soft money! An'--an' he's all MINE."

CHAPTER III.

The Ordeal

By dawn on Labor Day Link Ferris was astir. A series of discomfiting
baths and repeated currying with the dandy brush had made Chum's grand
coat stand out in shimmering fluffiness. A course of
carefully-conducted circular promenades on the end of a chain had
taught the dog to walk gaily and unrestrainedly in leash. And any of
several cryptic words, relating to hypothetical rats, and so forth,
were quite enough to send up his ears.

It was sheer excitement that brought Link broad awake before sunrise on
that day of days. Ferris was infected with the most virulent form of
that weird malady known as "dog-showitis." At first he had been tempted
solely by the hope of winning the hundred-dollar prize. But latterly
the urge of victory had gotten int