These days of ceaseless striving and untiring patience had been of great benefit to Baldy.  He no longer experienced despair over such a Kennel misfortune; but cheerfully resolved that each failure must be a stepping-stone, not a stumbling-block, in the march toward success.

There was one real sorrow that came to him that spring—­a sorrow shared by many—­which swept away the passing regret for the lost race.  Dubby, full of years and honors, was dead, mourned by all.  His obituary in the newspapers not only testified that he was generally beloved, but was one that many a man might be proud to deserve.  “Alaska’s Most Famous Leader Passes Away.”  What untold stories of marvelous intelligence, of unfaltering allegiance, of loving service lay in those simple words.

Baldy missed Dubby sorely, for there had grown a firm bond of sympathy between them.  The old huskie had learned that a character may dignify a calling, and that a true heart often beats beneath a racing harness; while Baldy had long since discovered that Dubby’s aloofness was but the inevitable loneliness of a Dog that has had his Day.

To divert his mind from sad memories, Baldy would go to look at Mego’s twelve, beautiful, fat new puppies, and then would dream of a comfortable serene old age when he would be given the tutoring of such promising youngsters, and help to make them winners of future All Alaska Sweepstakes.

Then came the summer, and with it the play-time for the Kennel; a summer filled with ever changing interests and pleasures.

“I’ll be glad, ‘Scotty,’” said Moose Jones, “t’ keep till fall as many dogs as you don’t want in Nome.  It’s kinda hard t’ have ’em tied up in the fine weather, an’ dogs like yours can’t run ’round the streets loose.  Ben an’ me’s goin’ t’ be out t’ Golconda, where I’ve got a crew o’ men at work.  You may ‘a’ heerd I bought Golconda a few weeks ago, an’ I’m goin’ t’ mine there this season.  Sold my ground over t’ Marshall t’ a New York Syndicate that was nosin’ round pretty sharp before I left; and it’s give me money enough t’ take up this here property.  Then I leased my Dime Creek holdin’s on royalties, an’ that’ll put me on my feet even ef this Golconda claim ain’t all I think.  But I done a lot o’ prospectin’ there once, an’ it sure looks promisin’; an’ besides it’s right next t’ the Midas, an’ fer the last couple years or more Barclay has been takin’ out wonderful pay there.”

“I’d be glad to have you keep Baldy, Irish and Rover for us if you will,” replied Allan cordially.  “George and Spot are inseparable in vacation times, and McMillan,” with a nod toward the Woman’s house, “seems to be under the impression, now that he is not in training, that he is a lap dog, and rarely comes to the Kennel at all.  Matt will take the rest of them up to his cabin on Penny River, where they will have all the exercise they want, and great fun hunting.  You know I never have a moment for them in summer, as it is our busy season in the office,” and Allan, who was Secretary in the Big Man’s Company, gave a sigh as he realized that not until autumn would come again the happy Dog Days.