he day were discussed at length.

Dan announced that he could recommend the Mego Pups to "Scotty" without
a single unfavorable criticism. If there had been any weakness, it was,
he admitted freely, in his driving. "I don't seem to put the ginger into
'em the way George does at the finish. But I guess he takes it from his
father; and my dad," regretfully, "never drove anything better 'n horses
in his whole life. Then there was that black cat, too."

Ben Edwards, with his arm around Baldy's neck, listened with delight as
the minute details of the race were given by those who knew whereof they
spoke. He was proud indeed when George told how Baldy had steadfastly
held out against the efforts of Spot and Queen to bolt; and of the dog's
stoical indifference to the bitten ear, which was, fortunately, only
slightly torn.

"I guess, Ben, that Baldy'll be somethin' like old Dubby. You can count
on him doin' the right thing every time. He'll pull 'most as strong as
McMillan, and he sure was good not to chew Queen up, the way she tackled
him. But I don't know," judicially, "that we can make a real racer of
him. He don't seem to have just the racin' spirit. He ain't keen for it,
like Spot. But he's a bully all 'round dog, just the same."

"Mebbe it's cause he don't understand the game," answered Ben loyally.
"Moose Jones allers said that Baldy had plenty o' spirit; an' I kinda
think he's like the ship she was tellin' us about the other day. He
ain't really found himself yet."

The Woman, perfectly unconscious that she was penetrating into a serious
and secret Conclave of an Ancient and Honorable Order, came into the
Kennel with the evening paper.

It contained an article complimenting George upon his skill in managing
a difficult team, and upon introducing Spot, an infant prodigy, to the
racing world of the North. Then it announced, in a delicate vein of
sarcasm, that one of the wheel dogs had been the most recent notable
addition to the Allan and Darling Kennel--Baldy, late of Golconda, now
of Nome, "a likely Sweepstakes Winner." At which the Woman had sniffed
audibly, and "Scotty" had chuckled amiably. But Ben Edwards crept that
night into his hard cot with the paper tightly clasped in his grimy
hand, to dream of Baldy's future triumphs.

[Illustration]

V

The Woman, The Racers, and Others

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V

THE WOMAN, THE RACERS, AND OTHERS

Even after the boys' race, whe