f up. And he reversed his own former process in
imitation of them. He had supposed until now that a collie's hair, like
a man's, ought to be slicked down smooth for state occasions. And it
troubled him to find that Chum's coat rebelled against such treatment.
Now, under the reverse process, it stood out in wavy freedom.

At the adjoining stall to the left a decidedly pretty girl was watching
a groom put the finishing touches to the toilet of her tricolor collie.
Link heard her exclaim in protest as the groom removed from the dog's
collar a huge cerise bow she had just affixed there.

"Sorry, Miss," Ferris heard the groom explain, "but it's agin rules for
a dog to go in the ring with a ribbon on. If the judge thinks he's good
enough for a ribbon he'll award him one. But--"

"Oh, he simply can't help awarding one to Morven, here!" broke in the
girl. "CAN he, Stokes?"

"Hard to say, Miss," answered the groom imperturbably, as he wrought
with brush and cloth. "Judges has their own ideas. We'll have to hope
for the best for him and not be too sick if he gets gated."

"Gated?" echoed the girl--an evident newcomer to the realm of showdom.

"Yes, Miss," expounded the groom. "'Gated' means 'shown the gate.' Some
judges thins out a class that way, by sending the poorest dogs out of
the ring first. Then again, some judges--"

"Oh, I'm glad I wore this dress!" sighed the girl. "It goes so well
with Morven's color. Perhaps the judge--"

"Excuse me, Miss," put in the groom, trying not to laugh, "but the
collie judge to-day is Fred Leightonhe bred the great Howgill Rival,
you know--and when Leighton is in the ring, he hasn't got eyes for
anything but the dogs themselves. Begging your pardon, he wouldn't
notice if you was to wear a horse blanket. At that, Leighton's the
squarest and the best--"

"Look!" whispered the girl, whose attention had wandered and whose
roving gaze had settled on Chum. "Look at that dog in the next bench.
Isn't he magnificent?"

Link swelled with pride at the lowspoken praise. And turning away to
hide his satisfaction, he saw that quite a sizable knot of spectators
had gathered in front of Chum's bench. They were inspecting the collie
with manifest approval. Chum, embarrassed by the unaccustomed notice,
had moved as far as possible from his admirers, and was nuzzling his
head into Ferris's hand for refuge.

"Puppy Class, Male Scotch Collies!" droned a ring attendant, appearing
for a moment at the f