Part 23 (1/2)

”That's all right,” said Jack. ”His day's coming. You'll see.”

As for Romulus, he was wildly excited by this unusual experience, and treated the residents of Boytown to a continuous barking, in which Tatters and Mr. O'Brien and one or two of the other dogs joined, running beside the car until it was well out of town. Then Sam managed to quiet Romulus.

They arrived at Bedlow about dinner time, and Sam at once disappeared with Romulus, saying that he wanted to see that he had a good dinner and a place to sleep. The others went up to their rooms and washed up.

Sam did not reappear, and the boys began to be a bit anxious.

”Don't worry,” said Mr. Hartshorn. ”He's a queer duck, Sam is. But I fancy he would be uncomfortable if he stayed with us, and we might as well let him have his own way. I'll venture to say we won't see him again till morning, but we can be sure of one thing: Romulus will be well looked after.”

Mr. and Mrs. Hartshorn and the boys had their supper in the dining-room of the hotel, and all about them they heard dog talk.

After supper they all went to a movie on Mr. Hartshorn's invitation, for he said that if they didn't get their minds off the trials for a little while they would not sleep that night.

It was, in fact, some little time before Ernest and Jack could get to sleep in their strange surroundings, but at length sleep came, and the first thing they knew Mr. Hartshorn was knocking on their door and bidding them get up. They dressed quickly and hurried down to breakfast, where they found even more people than there were the night before. Outside there were many automobiles and some horses, and here and there a dog was to be seen, blanketed and receiving unusual attention.

”I don't know where Sam slept last night,” said Mr. Hartshorn. ”It may have been in the stable for all I know. I didn't ask him. But he's all right, and so is Romulus. Sam saw to it that the dog got a good rest, and he was up bright and early this morning, taking Romulus out for a short walk to limber him up.”

After breakfast they all piled into the car and started for the fields a few miles outside of town where the trials were to be held. The sky was overcast, but Mr. Hartshorn said he didn't think it would rain.

There was little wind, and Sam p.r.o.nounced it ideal weather for the contest.

”I hope it won't rain,” said he, ”because a wet coat bothers a setter and gives the pointers the advantage.”

There were a number of cars on the road before and behind them, and now and then a man galloped past on horseback.

”Looks like a pretty good gallery,” said Mr. Hartshorn.

When they arrived at the grounds, Mr. Hartshorn told the boys they had better remain in the car with his wife, while he and Sam consulted with the officials. After awhile he returned and announced that Romulus had been paired with another setter named Dolly Grey.

”I can't find out much about her,” said he. ”At least, she's not one of the famous ones, so it oughtn't to be too hard for Romulus. The Derby will be run off first, so Romulus won't be called on until afternoon. Sam has taken him off into the woods to keep him quiet.”

In spite of the fact that Romulus did not figure in the Derby, it proved to be an absorbing and exciting event to the Whipple boys. Two by two the young dogs were called out and sent off in whirlwind races after the cleverly hiding birds. Sometimes no birds were discovered, and then it became merely a contest of speed and form in ranging until the judges changed to fresh ground. Every now and then, however, one of the dogs would catch the tell-tale scent, whirl about to some clump of gra.s.s or thicket, and come to a rigid point, his less successful opponent trailing him and backing him up. Behind them followed the judges, handlers, and gallery, some in automobiles, some in traps, some on horseback, and some afoot.

It turned out to be a fine day after all, and the dogs, eager and swift, made a pretty sight among the old pastures and stubble fields.

For the most part they were kept away from the woods where it would be difficult to judge of their performances.

A halt was called at noon to eat lunch and rest the dogs. Already the constant s.h.i.+fting of ground had carried them far from Bedlow and the men who were afoot were tired. The dogs were wrapped in blankets and were kept as quiet as possible, most of them being in wagons. Mrs.

Hartshorn got out the luncheon kit and the boys found that they were famously hungry. Sam appeared during the luncheon hour, to find out how things were going, and Mrs. Hartshorn persuaded him to eat something with the rest. Romulus, he said, seemed to be in good shape, and on no account must anybody give him anything to eat.

About 1:30 the judges called for the final contest in the Derby. A small lemon-and-white female setter named Dorothea was pitted against a somewhat overgrown blue belton of the same species. At first it seemed as though the advantage lay with the bigger, stronger dog, whose name was King Arthur. He kept well in the lead in the ranging, but the wise ones noted little Dorothea's superb form and said nothing. Little by little she crept up on King Arthur, and at length she swerved sharply to one side and pointed at a clump of alder bushes. King Arthur had missed the scent entirely. The birds were flushed and the dogs shot over, for that is the custom. Then the judges, after a conference, declared the Derby closed and Dorothea the winner. The party from Boytown saw a young woman rush out from among the automobiles and throw her arms around the little setter.

”That must be her mistress,” said Ernest. ”I bet she's happy.”

The boys were so much interested in all this that they did not realize that the All-Age stake had already been commenced. Two pointers went galloping across the field and the contest was on. From that moment the boys kept their eyes fastened to the successive pairs of racing dogs, trying to appraise their skill and form and to compare them with Romulus. It was a better contest than the Derby, with more birds found, and it was evident that Romulus had opponents worthy of him.

One interesting contestant was a beautiful Irish setter, whose red coat glistened like gold in the suns.h.i.+ne. He did well, beating his opponent, but he did not qualify for the finals.

At last Romulus was called, and with him the setter Dolly Grey. She was a mild-looking animal, but once loosed she led Romulus a merry chase. Both dogs were a bit heady at first and did a deal of running without accomplis.h.i.+ng anything, but at length Sam, with his patient whistle, got Romulus straightened out and Dolly Grey also settled down to business. She found the first birds, but after that Romulus beat her to two coveys in rapid succession, and Romulus, to the great joy of his master and Jack, was declared the winner.

”Didn't he do splendidly?” said Mrs. Hartshorn as Sam came up with the panting dog.

”Waal,” said Sam, ”he might have done worse and he might have done better. He wa'n't up to his top form, but it was his first trial. I expect he'll do better in the finals. It was lucky he wa'n't paired with one of the best dogs, or he might have been out of it now. As it is he's got a chance, and I think it's a pretty good one. I heard one of the judges say some nice things about him.”