underrated dog.

But Ferris did not reach the gate unchecked.

Judge Leighton had ended the parade and had stood the three dogs,
one by one and then two at a time, on the platform while he
studied them. Then he had crossed to the table and picked up the
judging book and four ribbons--one blue, one red, one yellow and
one white. Three of these ribbons he handed to the three
contestants' handlers.

Then he stepped across the ring to where Ferris was edging his
way toward the exit; and handed Link the remaining ribbon. It was
dark blue, with gilt lettering.

Leighton did not so much as subject Chum to the handling and
close inspection he had lavished on the three others. One expert
glance had told the judge that the dark-sable collie, led by this
loutish countryman, was better fitted to clean up prizes at
Madison Square Garden than to appear in a society dog show in the
North Jersey hinterland.

Leighton had viewed Chum, as a bored musician, listening to the
piano-antics of defective children, might have regarded the
playing of a disguised Paderewski. Wherefore, he had waved the
dog to one side while he judged the lesser entrants, and then had
given him the merited first-prize ribbon.

Link, in a daze of bliss, stalked back to the bench; with Chum
capering along at his side. The queer sixth sense of a collie