l
Building, Union Square, March 29.

"That's too much money for a dog," decided Average Jones. "Particularly
one that hasn't any bench record. I'll just have a glance into the
thing."

Slipping on his coat he walked briskly down the avenue, and crossing
over to Union Square, entered the gloomy old building which is the sole
survival of the days when the Stengel estate foresaw the upward trend
of business toward Fourteenth Street. Stepping from the elevator at the
seventh floor, he paused underneath this sign:

MALCOLM DORR
ANALYTICAL AND CONSULTING CHEMIST
Hours 10 to 4

Entering, Average Jones found a fat young man, with mild blue eyes,
sitting at a desk.

"Mr. Dorr?" he asked.

"Yes," replied the fat young man nervously, "but if you are a reporter,
I must--"

"I am not," interrupted the other. "I am an expert on advertising, and I
want that one thousand dollars reward."

The chemist pushed his chair back and rubbed his forehead.

"You mean you have--have found out something?"

"Not yet. But I intend to."

Dorr stared at him in silence.

"You are very fond of dogs, Mr. Dorr?"

"Eh? Oh, yes. Yes, certainly," said the other mechanically.

Average Jones shot a sudden glance of surprise at him, then looked
dreamily at his own finger-nails.

"I can sympathize with you. I have exhibited for some years. Your dog
was perhaps a green ribboner?"

"Er--oh--yes; I believe so."

"Ah! Several of mine have been. One in particular, took medal after
medal; a beautiful glossy brown bulldog, with long silky ears, and the
slender splayed-out legs that are so highly prized but so seldom seen
nowadays. His tail, too, had the truly Willoughby curve, from his dam,
who was a famous courser."

Mr. Dorr looked puzzled. "I didn't know they used that kind of dog for
coursing," he said vaguely.

Average Jones smiled with almost affectionate admiration at the crease
along the knee of his carefully pressed trousers. His tone, when next he
spoke, was that of a youth bored with life. Any of his intimates would
have recognized in it, however, the characteristic evidence that his
mind was ranging swift and far to a conclusion.

"Mr. Dorr," he drawled, "who--er--owned your--er--dog?"

"Why, I--I did," said the startled chemist.

"Who gave him to you?"

"A friend."

"Quite so. Was it that--er--friend who--er--offered the reward?"

"What makes you think that?"

"T