Martha was sitting on the porch in her rocking-chair as Dan and his dog came up the lane. Tiny Tim romped ahead and sprang up in Martha's lap and kissed her and whimpered his joy at the homecoming--so Martha had ample opportunity to brace herself to meet the culprit. "Hello, Martha, old girl," Dan cried with a cheerfulness he was far from feeling. "Timmy and I are home again. Are you going to forgive me, Martha?" Martha looked so glum and serious that Dan's heart sank. "Oh, Martha!" he quavered and came slowly up the steps and tossed into her lap a huge roll of banknotes. "I know I done wrong, Martha," he declaimed. "I've been gamblin' on the side--you know, honey--side bets on Timmy. I'm afraid we're never going to be real poor again. We've got the mortgage paid off and three thousand in reserve, and I'm going to sell Timmy for seven thousand five hundred dollars, with a half interest in his sire fees for three years----" Martha stood up, her eyes ablaze with scorn and anger. "Dan Pelly," she flared at him, "how dare you?" Dan hung his head. "Oh, Martha," he pleaded, "can't you realize how terrible it is to keep a good dog down?" "Who offered to buy Timmy?" "Mr. Fletcher, the owner of Colonel Dorsey." "Tell him to go chase himself," Martha suggested slangily. "If you expect to make your peace with me, Dan Pelly, you'll give up all idea of selling Timmy." "But Martha--seven thousand five hundred dollars! Think what it means to you. No more worry about our old age, everything settled fine and dandy at last after twenty-five years of hard luck." "Do you really want to sell Timmy, Dan?" "No, Martha, I don't. It'd break my heart. Bu-bu-but--I'll do it for your sake." "Dan, come here." Dan came and flopped awkwardly on his old knees while Martha's arms went around him. "Sweet old Dan," she whispered. "What a glorious holiday you two have had! I've been so happy just realizing how happy you have been. Dan!" "Yes, Martha." "Perhaps we can get back into the dog business again. Don't you think you'd like to buy about half a dozen really fine brood bitches? Timmy's puppies would be spoken for before they were born. The least we could get would be a hundred dollars each for them." She stroked his old head. "I'm afraid, Dan, it's too late to reform you. Once a dog man, always a dog man----"