It was indeed a treat; for always at the end of the jaunt there was an interview with "Scotty" Allan, who was sure to look Baldy over carefully and say fondly, "Well, how's my Derby hero to-day?" and give the expected hearty greetings to Irish and Rover. Or possibly there would be a brief visit to the Woman, who, whatever her faults, never failed to produce a tid-bit of some sort for her canine callers. She and Ben would dwell with keen delight upon his prospects of attaining his ambitions. "And besides all Moose will do for you," she announced one day, "Mr. Daly tells me he will be only too glad to be of any assistance possible. He thinks a boy with your ideal--Lincoln--should have all the help it is in his power to give." Of course, surfeited at last with luxury and idleness, the dogs would finally be eager to return to the duties of the winter; glad of the season that brings the cheery sound of bells, the joyous barks of recognition from passing friends, the snarl of challenge from passing enemies, and all of the wholesome pleasures that belong to a busy, useful life. But now they were quite care-free, and content, and the responsibilities of the winter seemed far away indeed. But the most treasured moments of all to Baldy were those spent with Ben when, waiting for Moose to finish his evening's tasks, he and the boy wandered along the winding banks of the ditch. Far away across the sedgy tundra lay the sea, a line of molten gold in the last rays of the belated June sunset. Behind them rose the snow-crested peaks of the Sawtooth Mountains, like frosted spires against an amber sky. Soon the amber would change to amethyst and deepen to purple--fading at last to a shadowy gray; and all the world seemed steeped in the mystic calm of those twilight hours before the early Northern dawn. And in those hours the brooding stillness of nature was broken only by the voice of man; for it was then, in that vast solitude, that from the lips of Ben Edwards came ringing words, sonorous sentences, impassioned appeals. Baldy did not know it, but he was at such times a learned Judge moved strangely by unexpected eloquence; a jury melted to tears by a touching plea for clemency; a Populace swayed to great deeds by a silver-tongued Orator. Even, on rare occasions, he was the Loyal Throng that stood, silent and uncovered, before the White House steps, thrilled by the fiery patriotism of Mr. Edwards, the President of the United States of America. Then, he was just Baldy, a faithful loving dog that trotted happily at the heels of the ragged little boy whose unselfishness had given him the great chance of his life. There was no faltering in the devotion of boy or dog. They believed in each other. [Illustration] XII The Great Race [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XII THE GREAT RACE Another winter had come and gone, and again it was the day of the Great Race.