truth he had
never thought much of this breed of pointers. He was very sorry, he
said, very sorry. But any one, peering at him from the bushes as he rode
home, a dog with tucked tail at his horse's heels, would have seen a
shrewd smile on his face.

And thus it happened that Comet came home in disgrace--a coward expelled
from college, not for some youthful prank, but because he was yellow.
And he knew he was disgraced. He saw it in the face of the big man
Devant, who looked at him in the yard where he had spent his happy
puppyhood, then turned away. He knew it because of what he saw in the
face of Jim Thompson.

In the house was a long plausible letter, explaining how it had
happened. "I did everything I could. I never was as much surprised in my
life. The dog is hopeless."

As for the other inhabitants of the big house, their minds were full of
the events of the season--de-luxe hunting parties, more society events
than hunts; lunches served in the woods by uniformed butlers; launch
rides up the river; arriving and departing guests. Only one of them
except Devant gave the gun-shy dog a thought. Marian Devant visited him
in his disgrace. She stooped before him as she had done on that other
and happier day, and caught his head between her hands. But his eyes did
not meet hers, for in his dim way he knew he was not now what he had
been.

"I don't believe he's yellow--inside!" she declared and looked at
Thompson.

Thompson shook his head. "I tried him with a gun, Miss Marian. Just
showed it to him. He ran into his kennel."

"I'll go get mine. I don't believe he will run again."

But at sight of her small gun it all came back. Again he seemed to hear
the explosion that had shattered his nerves. The terror had entered his
soul. In spite of her pleading he made for his kennel. Even the girl
turned away. And as he lay panting in the shelter of his box he knew
that never again would men look at him as they had looked, nor life be
sweet to him as it had been.

Then came to Oak Hill an old man to see Thompson. He had been on many
seas, had fought in a dozen wars, and had settled at last on a truck
farm near by. Somewhere in a life full of adventure and odd jobs he had
trained dogs and horses. His face was lined, his hair white, his eyes
piercing, blue, and kind. Wade Swygert was his name.

"I'll take him if you're goin' to give him away," he said to Thompson.

Give him away--who had been championship hope!

Marian