hat are obligatory for the
signing of papers, he was again on his way, as Fred Ayer came into view,
closely followed by Johnson.

Returning, it seemed as if Kid himself could not have excelled Baldy in
the management of the team--all of his latent powers developing to meet
the great demands made upon him. He was proving himself indeed a leader.

The news of the mishap had been telephoned to Nome; and the usual
enthusiasm over the first arrival was turned into an ovation for the
plucky and popular little Scotchman.

With the loss of the best dog in the Kennel, on the eve of the race, and
an obscure, untried dog in the lead; with a stunning blow that had left
him alone and senseless on the trail he was still victorious, to the
admiration of all Nome.

The excitement was intense as the cheering throngs closed in upon the
dogs and their driver, ready and eager to give their hearty greetings
and unstinted applause.

[Illustration: AN OVATION FOR THE PLUCKY LITTLE SCOTCHMAN]

Moose Jones and Ben hurried toward the winners, both overjoyed at the
success of Allan and their favorite, Baldy.

"Some dog, Baldy o' Golconda, ain't he, Mart?" was Jones's exultant
comment as they passed Barclay, who stood regarding the heroes with
ill-concealed contempt.

"Some accident!" retorted Mart. "There'll be a fine day,"
belligerently, "when 'Scotty' Allan'll find out that there dog's a fake,
a reg'lar quitter. Jest now he's bluffed you all inter thinkin' him a
wonder; but you wait an' he'll give himself away yet. He was ornery as a
pup, an' he's ornery as a dog. You can't make a silk purse outen a sow's
ear, an' I tell you straight you can't make a Sweepstakes Winner out o'
Baldy o' Golconda, no matter what he done in this here measly Solomon
hike."

"Well, we'll see, Mart."

"You've won a great race," exclaimed the Woman as she came forward with
the Big Man, and grasped "Scotty's" hand warmly; "a great race, and
against heavy odds."

But "Scotty," looking down on Baldy with gratitude and pride, replied
simply:

"No, the credit all belongs to good old Baldy here; it is his race, not
mine."

Then the Woman, kneeling in the snow beside the leader, with her arms
about him, said softly, "It was wonderful, Baldy, simply wonderful, the
way you saved the day."

And so the Solomon Derby was over, and Baldy had made good.

[Illustration]

XI

One Summer

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XI

ONE SUMMER