nondescript mongrel that had been chased into the Chatham
backyard by a crowd of stone-throwing boys, and which she had
sought to oust with a stick from its hiding place under the
steps. Since then Dorcas had had an unconquerable fear and
dislike of dogs. The feeling was unconquerable because she had
made no effort to conquer it. She had henceforth judged all dogs
by the one whose teeth marks had left a lifelong scar on her
white forearm.

She had the good breeding not to let Ferris see her distaste for
his pet that he was just then exhibiting so proudly to the
guests. Her shrinking was imperceptible, even to a lover's
solicitous eye. But Chum noted it. And with a collie's odd sixth
sense he knew this intruder did not like him.

Not that her aversion troubled Chum at all; but it puzzled him.
People as a rule were effusively eager to make friends with Chum.
And--being ultraconservative, like the best type of collie--he
found their handling and other attentions annoying. He had taken
a liking to Dorcas, at sight. But since she did not return this
liking Chum was well content to keep away from her.

He was the more content, because five-year-old Olive had flung
herself, with loud squeals of rapture, bodily on the dog; and had
clasped her fat little arms adoringly round his massive furry
throat in an ecstasy of delight.

Chum had never before been brought into such close contact with a
child. And Link watched with some slight perturbation the baby's
onslaught. But in a moment Ferris's mind was at rest.