"As Mr. Glenmuir was disbanding his kennel, Mr. Gault was able
to secure the dog--Glenmuir Cavalier. He started for Craigswold,
with the dog on the rear seat of the car. At first he kept a hand
on the dog's collar, but as the collie made no attempt to escape,
he soon turned around--he was in the front seat--and paid no more
attention to him. Just outside of Suffern, he looked back--to
find Cavalier had disappeared. He advertised, and made all
possible efforts to locate the dog. But he could get no clew to
him, until to-day. Seeing this dog of yours in the show ring, he
recognized him at once."

The pompously booming voice, with its stilted diction, ceased.
All eyes were upon Link Ferris. The mountaineer, stung to life by
the silence and the multiple gaze, came out of his trance of
shock.

"Then--then," he stuttered, forcing the words from a throat
sanded by sudden dread, "then Chum rightly b'longs to this man?"

"Quite so!" assented Marden, in some relief. "I am glad you grasp
the point so readily. Mr. Gault has talked the matter over with
me, and he is taking a remarkably broad and generous view of the
case if I may say so. He is not only willing that you should keep
the cup and the cash prize which you have won to-day, but he is
also ready to pay to you the seventy-five dollar reward he
offered for the return of Glenmuir Cavalier. I repeat, this
strikes me as most gener--"

"NO!" yelled Link, a spasm of foreseen loneliness sweeping over