ar end of the section. "Numbers 60, 61, 62."
Three youngsters, ranging in age from seven to eleven months, were
coaxed down from their straw couches by three excited owners and were
convoyed fussily toward the ring.
"Novice Class next, Miss," Link heard the groom saying to the girl at
the adjoining bench. "Got his ring leash ready?"
"Ring leash!" This was a new one to Ferris. His eyes followed the trio
of puppies shuffling ringward. He saw that all three were on leather
leashes and that their chains had been left in the stalls. Presumably
there was a law against chains in the ring. And Link had no leash.
For an instant he was in a quandary. Then his brow cleared. True, he
had no leash. Yet, if chains, like bows of ribbon, were barred from the
ring, he could maneuver Chum every bit as well with his voice as with
any leash. So that problem was solved.
A minute later, the three pups reappeared at the end of the section.
And behind them came the attendant, intoning:
"Novice Class, Male Scotch Collies! Numbers 64, 65, 66, 67."
There was an absurd throbbing in Link Ferris's meridian. His calloused
hands shook as he unchained Chum and motioned him to leap from the
bench to the ground.
Chum obeyed, but with evident uneasiness. His odd surroundings were
getting on the collie's nerves. Link bent over him, under pretense of
giving him a farewell rub with the brush.
"It's all right, Chummie!" he crooned soothingly. "It's all RIGHT! I'm
here. An' nobody's goin' to bother you none. You're a-helpin' me win
that hundred. An' you're lettin' these gold-shirt folks see what a
clam' gorgeous dawg you be! Come along, ol' friend!"
Under the comfort of his god's voice, Chum's nervousness fled. Safe in
his sublime trust that his master would let no harm befall him, the
collie trotted toward the ring at Ferris's heels.
Three other novice dogs were already in the ring when Link arrived at
the narrow opening. The steward was sitting at the table as before. At
the corner of the ring, alongside the platform, stood a man in tweeds,
unlighted pipe in mouth, half-shut shrewd eyes studying the dogs as
they filed in through the gap in the ropes. The inscrutable eyes
flickered ever so little at sight of Chum, but at once resumed their
former disinterested gaze.
"Walk close!" whispered Link as the parade started.
Chum, hearing a command he had long since learned, ranged himself at
Ferris's side and paced majestically in the pro
|