's here, sir," was Ferris's whispered greeting. "Wilder looking
than ever. The girl's here, too. Jim Arnold couldn't come. Laid up with
his knee."

Burton looked around. He had reached a spot where for a few weeks every
winter the bird dog is undisputed king. Down the sunlit village streets
pointers and setters were out with their handlers. They came from every
section of the country, from Canada, from England. Each dog represented
in himself the survival of the fittest. There was not one who had not
gained a victory in some trial. Now they were to try for the greatest
victory of all.

Many were already champions with majestic names--champions of the South,
the prairies, the Pacific coast. Some, younger and more eager than
others, strained at their leashes, and looked about alertly at the
passing show. Others, reserved veterans, gazed into space with the
dignified abstraction of those who have travelled far and seen the
world and tasted the vanity of all things under the sun.

On the way to the boarding-house where Ferris had engaged a place for
him, Burton came face to face with his dog. He was pulling hard at the
leash, held by the girl. She nodded and smiled quickly, wistfully, at
these men who had been to her father's house to see her father's dog.
But she did not stop or speak; for so strong was the pull of the big
pointer that she was hurried along as if a high wind were blowing her
from behind.

Old Burton stopped and looked back at them. His dog was the finest
fellow of the bunch. He would take that dog back with him, National
Champion tacked to his name. He would keep him in his own kennels, show
him to his friends, run him again next year, own him in name as well as
in fact.

As for the girl, it would be a big disappointment to her when she
learned the truth. But she was young. Young people get over things
quickly. Besides, it was her father's arrangement, not his. He wasn't
responsible.

But when at supper in the boarding-house he saw her at the other end of
the table, he was a bit sorry. This was rather too forcible a reminder
of the bargain. He noticed that the girl was browned with Southern suns,
but that she was pretty and looked thoroughbred. Also, she was very
quiet, and her manners were nice.

She was present again at the meeting of handlers and owners and club
officials, who packed the parlours and hall after supper. She was to be
the first woman who ever ran a dog in a National Championship