bly directed toward the very dogs who were
most apt to over-value physical charm and ingratiating tricks of manner.

But there was one thing more objectionable still that could be laid at
her door--she was constantly lowering the general tone of the Kennel.

The stables where the Racers were kept gave shelter, also, to a few
others whose merits warranted their sharing in the special care bestowed
upon the fleet-footed Sweepstakes Winners. The latter all carried
themselves with a conscious dignity that befitted their fame and
aspirations; but gradually Baldy noticed that through the Woman there
were being introduced a number of ordinary strangers who made use of the
place, and were housed and fed, till it began to look like a transient
dog hotel.

She brought them because they were tired and hungry, lame, halt or
blind; or worse still, just because they "seemed to like her." No reason
was too trivial, no dog too worthless. Matt shamelessly upheld her,
"Scotty" submitted, while Baldy sulkily glowered at these encumbrances
who were more fit for the pound than the Allan and Darling Racing
Stables. For Baldy had but one criterion; that of efficiency as the
result of honest endeavor. And it was indeed a trial for a conscientious
plodder to see the ease with which idle canines possessed themselves of
the comforts and privileges that by right belong alone to those whose
industry has earned them.

Had Baldy been a French Poodle, with little tufts of hair cut in
circles round his ankles, and a kinky lock tied with a splashing bow
over his eyes, he would probably, with delicate disdain, have thought of
her as lacking in "esprit de corps." As it was, being but a blunt
Alaskan, he growled rather sullenly when she came too near, and
considered that she had no more dog-pride than an Eskimo; and Baldy's
contempt for her could suggest no more scathing comparison.

There was no jealousy in his objections, for he now fairly gloried in
the sensation that Kid, Irish or McMillan created when they were in the
lead; and as the two latter at least were dogs that were coldly
indifferent to him, this was surely a test of his unselfishness.

He was perfectly willing, also, to welcome "classy" dogs, as George and
Dan called them, like Stefansson, Lipton, or dainty Margaret Winston,
from Kentucky. He even understood there were dogs, neither Workers nor
Racers, who had gained a kind of popular distinction that was recognized
by both the human a