“But he had an idea. He remembered that once he had seen a chap wrapped up in sweaters running along the road getting his weight down. So this chap, whose name was――” “Smith,” suggested Evan. “Shut up. His name was Jones. So Jones decided that if that would work with a man it ought to work with a dog. So after dinner he wrapped the dog――” “What was the dog’s name?” asked Jelly. “Smith,” said Evan again. “The dog’s name was――was――I don’t remember.” “That’s a crazy name,” commented Malcolm. “Why didn’t he call him I-Don’t-Care?” “Say, do you want to hear this story or don’t you?” Rob demanded. They assured him that they did. “Well, shut up, then! Smith wrapped the dog in a big woolen sweater――” “Jones, you mean.” “No, the dog,” answered Rob irritably. “I mean Jones wrapped――” “Smith,” said Evan. “Wrapped the dog in a sweater and started out with him on a leash.” “On a what?” asked Malcolm politely. “On a leash; the dog was on a leash.” “Oh! What was Smith on?” Rob found the remains of a baked potato within reach and scored against Malcolm’s neck. While the latter was wiping away the fragments Rob went on. “Well, he walked that dog and walked him. Took him away out into the country and back again into town; pulled him all around the city; dragged him eight times up and down the City Hall steps. By that time it was about two in the morning, and Jones――” “Smith,” corrected Evan helpfully. “And Smith――hang it, his name was Jones, I tell you! Jones was pretty nearly dead for sleep. He’d taken naps as he went along. Finally he came to a lunch-wagon and went in and got a cup of coffee. He gave some of it to the dog――” “Oh, come now!” Evan protested. “Dogs don’t drink coffee!” “This dog was very fond of coffee,” replied Rob with dignity. “Of course,” agreed Malcolm. “Did you hear Rob say he was a coffee spaniel?” “Well, that woke them both up and they went on walking.” “Say, for goodness sake, Rob, get through walking!” begged Malcolm. “My legs are just aching already. Have them sit down for a minute, won’t you?” “He walked that dog around until four o’clock in the morning,” declared Rob impressively, “and when he got him home he put him on the scales, and what do you think?” “He’d gained another eight pounds,” said Evan. “There wasn’t anything left but the collar,” guessed Jelly. “No, but that dog had lost eight pounds exactly and was half a pound under the limit! What do you think of that?” “I’d rather not tell you,” answered Malcolm evasively. “And did he win a prize with him?” asked Jelly. “N――no, he didn’t. You see, when he took him around to the show he found that he had walked two inches off the dog’s legs and they made him enter him as a dachshund.” There was a deep and painful silence. Then Malcolm began to whistle softly and Evan reached out for the last doughnut and tossed it into Rob’s lap. “You win,” he said.