“Vanart VI.:—born March 26th, 1902. Smooth fox-terrier. Color—white, with chestnut-brown head and saddle and spot at base of tail.”
Then followed his father’s name, Vanart I.; his mother’s, Queen Mab, and a long list of forefathers and foremothers. Bob Grant read, and learned that Vanart I. was born in the Royal Victoria Kennels at Montreal; that his father was the famous Rex, which means king;—all down the line appeared royal names.
So it was apparent that our hero was very well born indeed,—a prince of the blood, and heir by grace of his own personal beauty and attractions to his great father’s title. The latter fact was explained in the letter that lay underneath the register:
“Dear old Bob:—So sorry not to find you in, and I wish I might stay to know what you think of the puppy. The janitress let me in, and I’ve fixed things up as well as I could. I don’t believe they will do much damage before you return. You know I promised you one sometime, and here he is.
“His mother is Queen Mab, of the Newark Kennels, and as this is the fifth year of my Van’s fatherhood, your treasure’s full name is Vanart VI.... He wins the title, as he is the pride and beauty of the family.
“I think you will like him because he is marked something like his father. Please pardon me for bringing his sister Belle with him; the mother could not take care of so many.
“I will come after Belle in a day or two. I hope you’ll like your gift. Good luck to you,—Billy.”
Bob laid aside the letter and turned his attention once more to the problem at his feet. No doubt at all as to which was his own puppy. Bob picked Van out of the dish, wiped the milk off his feet, and introduced himself.
Van did not cringe, or try to get away, but looked up from the big hand that held him, into the face of the young man, with a fearless confidence, and fell to chewing Bob’s finger, as if it were the whole business of life.
“Well, Vanart VI., you are here, and I hope a kind Providence will tell me what to do with you. For the present I’ve got to put up with you somehow. Two of them,—Oh, Christmas!”