examination before giving Ferris a tricolored ribbon, whose
possession entitled him to one of the shimmering silver mugs in
the near-by trophy case.

After receiving full assurance that the big cup should be his at
the close of the show, Link returned to Chum's bench in ecstasy
and sat down beside his tired dog, with one arm thrown lovingly
round the collie's ruff. Chum nestled against his triumphant
master, as Link fondled his bunch of ribbons and went over,
mentally, every move of his triumphal morning.

The milling and changing groups of spectators in front of Bench
65 did not dwindle. Indeed, as the morning went on, they
increased. People kept coming back to the bench and bringing
others with them. Some of these people whispered together. Some
merely stared and went away. Some asked Ferris carefully worded
questions, to which the shyly happy mountaineer replied with
sheepish grunts.

The long period of judging came at last to an end. And the "Best
Dog in Show" special was called.

Into the ring Ferris escorted Chum, amid a multitude of fellow
winners, representing one male or female of every breed
exhibited. Leighton and another judge stood in the ring's center,
and around them billowed the heterogeneous array. The two went at
their Gargantuan task with an expert swiftness. Mercilessly, dog
after dog was weeded out and gated. At last, Chum and two others
were all remaining of the many which had thronged the ring. The
spectators were banked, five deep and breathless, round the