"Ah! Several of mine have been. One in particular, took medal
after medal; a beautiful glossy brown bulldog, with long silky ears,
and the slender splayed-out legs that are so highly prized but so
seldom seen nowadays. His tail, too, had the truly Willoughby
curve, from his dam, who was a famous courser."

Mr. Dorr looked puzzled. "I didn't know they used that kind of dog
for coursing," he said vaguely.

Average Jones smiled with almost affectionate admiration at the
crease along the knee of his carefully pressed trousers. His tone,
when next he spoke, was that of a youth bored with life. Any of his
intimates would have recognized in it, however, the characteristic
evidence that his mind was ranging swift and far to a conclusion.

"Mr. Dorr," he drawled, "who--er--owned your--er--dog?"

"Why, I--I did," said the startled chemist.

"Who gave him to you?"

"A friend."

"Quite so. Was it that--er--friend who--er--offered the reward?"

"What makes you think that?"

"This, to be frank. A man who doesn't know a bulldog from a
bed-spring isn't likely to be offering a thousand dollars to avenge
the death of one. And the minute you answered my question as to