B ALDY OF NOME 



but inwardly shrinking, listened for the 

 invariable question, "This is not one of 

 the racers, is it?" and for the almost in- 

 variable explanation, "Well, he doesn't 

 look it!" It was difficult to appear in- 

 different when he was called "onery," 

 "morose," or "savage," and even "Scot- 

 ty's" voice saying, "Oh, Baldy's a pretty 

 good sort," did not ease the pain; for 

 "Scotty" found good in all dogs that were 

 not hopelessly bad, and this faint praise 

 had a detached impersonal quality that 

 spoke rather of a liking for dogs in gen- 

 eral than for Baldy in particular; and 

 Baldy craved a very particular liking 

 from "Scotty," who was his idol. 



Baldy's experiences had been distinctly 

 uninteresting; he was "just dog." There 

 had been no dramatic episodes in his life, 

 like those of Jack McMillan's; he had 

 not been an infant prodigy like Spot; he 

 was no paragon like Kid; yet on the 



[17] 



