s seemed as
wonderful as Cinderella's Fairy Coach. He hesitated, and then the Woman
in the sled beckoned encouragingly. "Get in with me; and your dog may
come too," she said as she rearranged the heavy fur robes to make room.
The boy advanced with painful shyness, and awkwardly climbed into the
place assigned him. The Woman laid her hand on Baldy's collar to draw
him in also, but the boy exclaimed quickly, "No, ma'am, don't do that,
please; he ain't really cross, but he won't ride in anythin' as long's
he's got a leg to stand on; an' sometimes he growls if people he don't
know touches him."

"Dogs and boys never growl at me, because I love them; and he does not
look as if he really had a leg to stand on," she replied smilingly. But
the boy nervously persisted. "Please let him go--his legs is all right.
He looks kind o' run down jest now 'cause he"--the boy felt a tightening
at his throat, and winked hard to keep the tears from starting
again--"'cause he ain't got much appetite. But when he's eatin' good his
legs is jest great. Why, there ain't no other dog in Golconda that's got
as strong legs as Baldy when he's--when he's eatin' good," he repeated
hastily. "An' Golconda's plumb full o' fine dogs."

"If that's so," said "Scotty," "I think I shall have to take a look at
those Golconda wonders before the winter fairly sets in; and maybe you
can give me a few pointers."

For a mile or so the boy sat spellbound, drinking in the casual comments
of "Scotty" upon the dogs in the team, as if they were pearls of wisdom
dropping from the lips of an Oracle. He was not so much interested in
the Woman's replies, for they displayed a lack of technical information
that contrasted unfavorably in the boy's mind with the keen and accurate
insight that Allan showed in every word on that most vital subject.

Vaguely the boy remembered having once heard that she had become a
partner in the racing team for mere amusement of the sport, instead of
from a serious, high-minded interest, and that of course did not entitle
her to the same respect you could feel for one to whom the care and
culture of the dog assumed the dignity of a vocation. Then, too, she had
spoken slightingly of Baldy's legs. As a human being he could not but
respond to her friendly overtures, but as a dog fancier she held no
place in his esteem.

As they approached the divide where the trail for Golconda branched from
the main road, an idea suddenly came to the boy. He h