l. "Give her half a dozen tries
more. And don't forget, any time any jay farmer thinks he's got a span
that can pull, bet him on the side your best span can beat him. That
means advance advertising and some paper. It'll be worth it. The
ringmaster'll favour you, and your span can get the first jump. If I was
young and footloose, I'd ask nothing better than to go out with your
turn."

Harris Collins, in the pauses gazing down at Michael, read Del Mar's
Seattle telegram:

"_Sell my dogs. You know what they can do and what they are worth. Am
done with them. Deduct the board and hold the balance until I see
you. I have the limit of a dog. Every turn I ever pulled is put in
the shade by this one. He's a ten strike. Wait till you see him_."

Over to one side in the busy arena, Collins contemplated Michael.

"Del Mar was the limit himself," he told Johnny, who held Michael by the
chain. "When he wired me to sell his dogs it meant he had a better turn,
and here's only one dog to show for it, a damned thoroughbred at that. He
says it's the limit. It must be, but in heaven's name, what is its turn?
It's never done a flip in its life, much less a double flip. What do you
think, Johnny? Use your head. Suggest something."

"Maybe it can count," Johnny advanced.

"And counting-dogs are a drug on the market. Well, anyway, let's try."

And Michael, who knew unerringly how to count, refused to perform.

"If he was a regular dog, he could walk anyway," was Collins' next idea.
"We'll try him."

And Michael went through the humiliating ordeal of being jerked erect on
his hind legs by Johnny while Collins with the stick cracked him under
the jaw and across the knees. In his wrath, Michael tried to bite the
master-god, and was jerked away by the chain. When he strove to
retaliate on Johnny, that imperturbable youth, with extended arm, merely
lifted him into the air on his chain and strangled him.

"That's off," quoth Collins wearily. "If he can't stand on his hind legs
he can't barrel-jump--you've heard about Ruth, Johnny. She was a winner.
Jump in and out of nail-kegs, on her hind legs, without ever touching
with her front ones. She used to do eight kegs, in one and out into the
next. Remember when she was boarded here and rehearsed. She was a gold-
mine, but Carson didn't know how to treat her, and she croaked off with
penumonia at Cripple Creek."

"Wonder if he can spin plates on his nose