he'd be a good dog. As he is, I'll give you fifty dollars for him."

But before the Master could speak, Miss Dorothy laughs, and says,
"You're Mr. Polk's kennel-man, I believe. Well, you tell Mr. Polk
from me that the dog's not for sale now any more than he was five
minutes ago, and that when he is, he'll have to bid against me for
him." The man looks foolish at that, but he turns to Nolan quick-
like. "I'll give you three hundred for him," he says.

"Oh, indeed!" whispers Miss Dorothy, like she was talking to herself.
"That's it, is it," and she turns and looks at me just as though she
had never seen me before. Nolan, he was a gaping, too, with his mouth
open. But he holds me tight.

"He's not for sale," he growls, like he was frightened, and the man
looks black and walks away.

"Why, Nolan!" cries Miss Dorothy, "Mr. Polk knows more about bull-
terriers than any amateur in America. What can he mean? Why, Kid is
no more than a puppy! Three hundred dollars for a puppy!"

"And he ain't no thoroughbred neither!" cries the Master. "He's
'Unknown,' ain't he? Kid can't help it, of course, but his mother,
Miss--"

I dropped my head. I couldn't bear he should tell Miss Dorothy. I
couldn't bear she should know I had stolen my blue ribbon.

But the Master never told, for at that, a gentleman runs up, calling,
"Three Twenty-Six, Three Twenty-Six," and Miss Dorothy says, "Here he