he wrong way, but he stopped them and took them back to
the proper end. Kit gave very few orders, although he looked at his watch
rather anxiously. Bob understood and could be trusted to do his work, the
trouble was he might not finish it in time. At length, Kit drew a deep
breath, and put back his watch. The sheep were in the pen and there was a
minute left.

Kit went back to Grace, and Bob trotted up, panting, with his tongue
hanging out. He looked at Kit, as if for approval; and then, after
wagging his tail when his master spoke, held up his paw to Grace.

"Hallo!" said Kit. "I haven't known him to do that before. It's not a
sheepdog's trick."

"I taught him," Grace replied, with a touch of color. "He has not
forgotten, and really deserves to be stroked."

She went away, but she gave Kit a smile across the railing, behind which
she stood with Mrs. Osborn, when the judge called out:

"First prize, Number Four; Mr. Askew's Bob!"

When lunch was served in a big tent Osborn sat at the top of the table,
but his satisfaction had vanished. For one thing, everybody had applauded
when Askew won the prize; the fellow was obviously a favorite and this
annoyed him. Then, Drysdale's sheep were to be sold by auction after
lunch and the committee had hinted that the president was the proper
person to buy the flock. Drysdale sat next to Kit at the bottom of the
table. He was a little, shabbily-dressed man, with a brown face, and a
twinkling smile.

"Where are the sheep?" Kit asked.

"We'll send t' band for them presently. Are you gan t' bid?"

"I don't know until I've seen them. What about their quality?"

"Weel, it might be better; they're gifts, you ken. There's a young ram
might suit you; he's true Carlside strain."

"I don't know how you got him then. I can't see Mayson giving away good
breeding stock."

Drysdale grinned. "Some big stanes fell on t' ram when Mayson was
Bringing flock doon Barra ghyll. He looks a bit the waur o' it, but you
can tell the Carlside blood."

"I'll see what I think about the animal," Kit said with a laugh. "Do you
expect a good sale? The rich people, as a rule, go to church."

"They'll bid aw t' same. When you canna stir their generosity, you can
try their pride. If you look at it one way, the thing's humorsome. They
dinna want to help me, but they will."

"It's possible," Kit agreed. "I don't know if the plan's above suspicion,
but you need the money."

"It will be weel spent. Hoo