Evening star., 1925-04-12


head. well, once I heard a tourist
call the Grand Canyon cunning
Thanks, sir, for letting me pet him."
II saw you studying this wolf
hound" put in Ruth demurely, anxious
to miss no need of praise for her
| own cherished pet. He's a beauty
too. isn't he?"
He is" gravely conceded the man
| Hes a beauty and that's all"
"Loris is a great dog" spoke up
Malvern, wholly for the sake of
Ruth's runipled feelings.
I'm what way?" challenged the
man. Look at that borzois head
| Between the ears it's no wider than
my palm. Where are YOU going to
| get brain space In a head like that?"
| I'm sorry you don't care for my
| dog" said Ruth stiffly.
Il beg your pardon" interrupted
| the man in hasty contrition. 81
| didn't know he was yours. I'm sorry
| Good bye"
With another furtive pat on the
collie's upthrust head, the bearded
| blunderer was gone.
| Z x x
HXNELL, Bobby, old friend" re-
marked Dick, seeking to cover
Ruth's discomfort, you've made a
new admirer here today. Bobby, that
dogs souls as we'll as their bodies, so
his friends say"
The variety" class was called to
the rings center at last.
The seven contestants at the rasped
order, Walk your dogs, please" pa
raded the ring. From the center the
| two speciality judges watched the
shambling progress. Then came the
word to halt, and the dogs, singly and
in i've TvC Cd -
and for showing ability.
Loris showed gloriously, Bobby
Bruce miserably. Which was all the
good 1T did either of them, for an
airedale won the SIS special"
Neither the collie nor the wolfhound
was placed
DO you suppose it's true that wolf
hounds aren't as clever as collies?'
asked the girl. I've had Loris only
month. My father gave him to me
because he said Loris went so well
with my Christmas furs."
But what a pity you didn't have a
set Of fox or sable furs." exclaimed
Malvern. Then Mr.. Ferrol might
have given you collie to go with
them"
oh" she laughed. "I ought to be
grateful he didn't try to match my
leather coat with Mexican hairless
dog. And, after all. I'd lots rather
have a wolfhound than collie-if
you don't mind my saying so-except
when a collie looks up into my face,
the way your dog is looking now.
Then l always seem to see soul
shining somewhere behind his eyes
a soul 1 don't find in other dogs.
Still, what is a soul compared with
the matching of ones furs?"
= y
WINTER had gone out of business
w in one final inf1uenzic orgy of
slush and sleet before Malvern and
Miss Ferrol chanced to meet again.
And by his doctors stern orders Dick
had spent the rest of the Winter at
his little country place, where he
could be out of doors 10 hours a day
and get to bed by o'clock at night.
Ruth had gone South in early
March. Nor did she come North
again until Spring. Then, a bit tired
from the seasons rush, she accepted
her aunt's invitation to spend a month
at the Hathaway place, there to loaf
and to steady her Winter-worn
nerves.
1t was on the night after her ar
rival that her aunt, seeking to tighten
the monotony of the girls visit, in
vited Dick Malvern to dinner. And
covered Invalid went for three hour
horseback ride. Thereafter, three or
four times a week, Malvern managed
to see her, either at her aunt's home
or as her escort on drive or tramp or
gallop.
To the man the Springtime seemed
to be dawning, according to the best
poetical traditions, for the first time
in history.
Do
since Dicks return from France the
collie had had his adored master in
sole and undivided chumship. But
now, more often than not Malvern
was away from home for hours at a
time. And on the few walks Bobby
was allowed to take with him Ruth
was almost always along to claim
Dicks entire attention and to leave
him not word or a thought for his
worshiping dog.
The sensitive collie felt instinc-
lively that a queer change of some
sort had been creeping gradually over
his master. Vaguely he associated
the change with Ruth. And the dog
was unhappy.
Then came a new element of an
noyance into Bobby Bruce's daily life.
The big meadow which divided the
Hathaway place from Malvern's less
pretentious grounds had been his IA
vorite rambling spot. And now Bobby
Bruce could no longer disport him
self there, because the man who
owned 1t had chosen to turn it into
grazing place for a huge and murder
ous-tempered Hereford bull.
The moment Bobby set foot in the
meadow the bull was certain to come
laundering down at him. So far as
actual peril was concerned, the collie
was in about as much danger from