Kazan | Page 4

of grief in his shaggy throat. He took the
lantern and held it above his head, at the same time loosening his hold

on the leash. At that signal there came a voice from out of the night. It
came from behind them, and Kazan whirled so suddenly that the
loosely held chain slipped from the man's hand. He saw the glow of
other lanterns. And then, once more, the voice--
"Kaa-aa-zan!"
He was off like a bolt. Thorpe laughed to himself as he followed.
"The old pirate!" he chuckled.
When he came to the lantern-lighted space back of the caboose, Thorpe
found Kazan crouching down at a woman's feet. It was Thorpe's wife.
She smiled triumphantly at him as he came up out of the gloom.
"You've won!" he laughed, not unhappily. "I'd have wagered my last
dollar he wouldn't do that for any voice on earth. You've won! Kazan,
you brute, I've lost you!"
His face suddenly sobered as Isobel stooped to pick up the end of the
chain.
"He's yours, Issy," he added quickly, "but you must let me care for him
until--we know. Give me the chain. I won't trust him even now. He's a
wolf. I've seen him take an Indian's hand off at a single snap. I've seen
him tear out another dog's jugular in one leap. He's an outlaw--a bad
dog--in spite of the fact that he hung to me like a hero and brought me
out alive. I can't trust him. Give me the chain--"
He did not finish. With the snarl of a wild beast Kazan had leaped to
his feet. His lips drew up and bared his long fangs. His spine stiffened,
and with a sudden cry of warning, Thorpe dropped a hand to the
revolver at his belt.
Kazan paid no attention to him. Another form had approached out of
the night, and stood now in the circle of illumination made by the
lanterns. It was McCready, who was to accompany Thorpe and his
young wife back to the Red River camp, where Thorpe was in charge

of the building of the new Trans-continental. The man was straight,
powerfully built and clean shaven. His jaw was so square that it was
brutal, and there was a glow in his eyes that was almost like the passion
in Kazan's as he looked at Isobel.
Her red and white stocking-cap had slipped free of her head and was
hanging over her shoulder. The dull blaze of the lanterns shone in the
warm glow of her hair. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes,
suddenly turned to him, were as blue as the bluest bakneesh flower and
glowed like diamonds. McCready shifted his gaze, and instantly her
hand fell on Kazan's head. For the first time the dog did not seem to
feel her touch. He still snarled at McCready, the rumbling menace in
his throat growing deeper. Thorpe's wife tugged at the chain.
"Down, Kazan--down!" she commanded.
At the sound of her voice he relaxed.
"Down!" she repeated, and her free hand fell on his head again. He
slunk to her feet. But his lips were still drawn back. Thorpe was
watching him. He wondered at the deadly venom that shot from the
wolfish eyes, and looked at McCready. The big guide had uncoiled his
long dog-whip. A strange look had come into his face. He was staring
hard at Kazan. Suddenly he leaned forward, with both hands on his
knees, and for a tense moment or two he seemed to forget that Isobel
Thorpe's wonderful blue eyes were looking at him.
"Hoo-koosh, Pedro--charge!"
That one word--charge--was taught only to the dogs in the service of
the Northwest Mounted Police. Kazan did not move. McCready
straightened, and quick as a shot sent the long lash of his whip curling
out into the night with a crack like a pistol report.
"Charge, Pedro--charge!"
The rumble in Kazan's throat deepened to a snarling growl, but not a
muscle of his body moved. McCready turned to Thorpe.

"I could have sworn that I knew that dog," he said. "If it's Pedro, he's
bad!"
Thorpe was taking the chain. Only the girl saw the look that came for
an instant into McCready's face. It made her shiver. A few minutes
before, when the train had first stopped at Les Pas, she had offered her
hand to this man and she had seen the same thing then. But even as she
shuddered she recalled the many things her husband had told her of the
forest people. She had grown to love them, to admire their big rough
manhood and loyal hearts, before he had brought her among them; and
suddenly she smiled at McCready, struggling to overcome that thrill of
fear and dislike.
"He doesn't like you," she laughed