“I certainly will,” Nancy said. “It was very nice meeting you.”
“Who’s the guy with the goatee?” George asked as the professor headed toward the arena.
“That’s Professor Herbert from Westmoor,” Nancy began, but she stopped when she saw Hillary Lane coming toward them.
“Hi there, Nancy,” Hillary said. The heiress was dressed smartly in a short plaid skirt, a white silk blouse, and navy blazer. Hillary turned to George and extended a slim, graceful hand. “I’m Hillary Lane.”
“Pleased to meet you,” George said as they shook hands. “I’m George Fayne.”
Hillary checked her gold watch. “The show should be starting any minute now,” she said. She guided the girls toward the arena, where folding chairs were arranged in rows. “This is the best turnout we’ve ever had,” Hillary went on. “With all these top pedigree dogs, it should be an interesting competition.”
The heiress explained that there would be two parts to the show. “The first contest,” she said, “is for best-in-breed. Then we’ll have a short refreshment break, followed by the best-in-show competition.”
At that moment one of the ushers rushed up to Hillary. “Ms. Lane,” he said urgently. “The trainer for Mrs. Grimes’s English sheepdog has taken ill. Mrs. Grimes is very upset.”
“Oh, no!” Hillary frowned. “I hope it’s not serious. What can we do on such short notice?”
“Well,” the usher replied, “a young woman in the audience has volunteered to take the trainer’s place.”
Hillary glanced at him doubtfully. “But is she capable of handling the dog properly?” she asked. “I’ve organized every detail of this show to perfection. I want this year’s event to be really memorable.”
The usher nodded. “The young woman does seem very confident. She says she’s very experienced in walking dogs. And Mrs. Grimes is so eager to have Oliver shown.”
Hillary sighed. “I guess that’s the best we can do.” As the man departed, Hillary said to the girls in a low voice, “I hope this girl knows what she’s doing. Oliver can be quite a handful, as I remember.”
The heiress pushed through the crowd, making a path for Nancy and George. “You’ll have a good view from here,” she said, leading them to seats near the judges’ table. “I can’t let Carson Drew’s daughter sit in the back row.” Hillary winked and hurried off.
A moment later Nancy realized that she and George were seated behind the Todds, who were whispering fiercely between themselves. Hearing her name mentioned, Nancy strained her ears. Unfortunately, the conversation was drowned out by the noisy chatter of the audience. Then a group of dalmatians began parading around the arena, and the audience quickly quieted down.
“Oh, Justin!” Nancy heard Fiona Todd snap. “You’re being so difficult. Why can’t you make me a copy of that necklace?”
“Obviously, darling, you don’t understand,” the blond man replied angrily. “I don’t want everyone in town to know I copy antique jewelry. You should never have mentioned it in public.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Fiona chided. “There’s nothing wrong with making copies. That shop of yours might make more money if you specialized in reproductions, instead of that arty junk you design.”
“Don’t put down my jewelry shop,” her husband hissed. “The Goldmine has been doing very well since we moved to the mall. Besides, I’ve only made one reproduction, and that was a special favor for Charles Herbert.”
“That skinflint professor still owes you money on it, too,” Fiona pointed out.
“Give the man a chance,” Todd told his wife. “It’s only been a month since I finished it. Anyway, Herbert told me in confidence that he’s having some financial problems.”
Just then George said to Nancy, “Hey, look! There’s Bess.”
“I don’t believe it!” Nancy cried, clapping her hand to her mouth. “She’s walking that English sheepdog!”
Suddenly Justin Todd turned around and saw Nancy seated behind him. His jaw dropped and his pale gray eyes narrowed. Obviously the jeweler realized that Nancy had overheard his conversation. Nancy looked straight ahead, pretending indifference.
George leaned over to Nancy. “What is Bess doing there? She’s not a professional dog walker.”
Nancy grinned. “Well, Bess does walk her neighbor’s Scotty sometimes,” she said. “This should be interesting.”
Twenty minutes later Nancy and George were even more amazed when Oliver won first prize for best-in-breed. Bess graciously accepted the blue ribbon from the judge and handed it to a beaming Mrs. Grimes.
“One thing about your cousin,” Nancy told George. “She sure can rise to an occasion.” The two girls broke out in laughter.
During intermission the girls were eager to congratulate Bess.
“I thought I saw her heading this way,” George said as they followed the crowd toward the refreshment tent. On the way Nancy noticed Professor Herbert huddled in conversation with Nelson Stone. Nudging George, she said, “Take a look over there.”
“Those two don’t seem to be getting on too well,” George commented. “Look at the way the professor is glowering at Stone. It looks as if he’s ready to drive him into the ground.”
“And Stone looks pretty mad, too,” Nancy observed. “Let’s try to get a little closer.”
But as the girls reached the tent, they heard a sudden shout, followed by a huge commotion around the refreshment table. All the sophisticated, smartly dressed people were now scattering in a frenzy.
Nancy looked over at the center of the confusion and spotted Bess struggling with the large sheepdog.
“Please, someone help me!” Bess cried. Juggling an ice cream cone in one hand, she was trying to pull the eager animal away from a wire garbage bin.
Nancy and George dashed to Bess’s side. But by the time the three of them retrieved the dog from the bin, his beautifully groomed coat was covered in garbage.
“Oh, Oliver!” Bess cried. “How could you do this to me?”
“We’ll never get all this muck out of his fur,” George said, shaking her head as she held on tightly to the huge dog’s collar.
Nancy ran over to a table and grabbed a handful of napkins. “Try these,” she said, giving some to her friends.
“Maybe we’d better wash Oliver off at the duck pond,” George finally suggested.
