Kazan | Page 5

at him softly. "Won't you make
friends with him?"
She drew Kazan toward him, with Thorpe holding the end of the chain.
McCready came to her side as she bent over the dog. His back was to
Thorpe as he hunched down. Isobel's bowed head was within a foot of
his face. He could see the glow in her cheek and the pouting curve of
her mouth as she quieted the low rumbling in Kazan's throat. Thorpe
stood ready to pull back on the chain, but for a moment McCready was
between him and his wife, and he could not see McCready's face. The
man's eyes were not on Kazan. He was staring at the girl.
"You're brave," he said. "I don't dare do that. He would take off my
hand!"
He took the lantern from Thorpe and led the way to a narrow snow-path
branching off, from the track. Hidden back in the thick spruce was the
camp that Thorpe had left a fortnight before. There were two tents there
now in place of the one that he and his guide had used. A big fire was
burning in front of them. Close to the fire was a long sledge, and
fastened to trees just within the outer circle of firelight Kazan saw the
shadowy forms and gleaming eyes of his team-mates. He stood stiff
and motionless while Thorpe fastened him to a sledge. Once more he
was back in his forests--and in command. His mistress was laughing
and clapping her hands delightedly in the excitement of the strange and

wonderful life of which she had now become a part. Thorpe had thrown
back the flap of their tent, and she was entering ahead of him. She did
not look back. She spoke no word to him. He whined, and turned his
red eyes on McCready.
In the tent Thorpe was saying:
"I'm sorry old Jackpine wouldn't go back with us, Issy. He drove me
down, but for love or money I couldn't get him to return. He's a
Mission Indian, and I'd give a month's salary to have you see him
handle the dogs. I'm not sure about this man McCready. He's a queer
chap, the Company's agent here tells me, and knows the woods like a
book. But dogs don't like a stranger. Kazan isn't going to take to him
worth a cent!"
Kazan heard the girl's voice, and stood rigid and motionless listening to
it. He did not hear or see McCready when he came up stealthily behind
him. The man's voice came as suddenly as a shot at his heels.
"Pedro!"
In an instant Kazan cringed as if touched by a lash.
"Got you that time--didn't I, you old devil!" whispered McCready, his
face strangely pale in the firelight. "Changed your name, eh? But I got
you--didn't I?"
CHAPTER III
McCREADY PAYS THE DEBT
For a long time after he had uttered those words McCready sat in
silence beside the fire. Only for a moment or two at a time did his eyes
leave Kazan. After a little, when he was sure that Thorpe and Isobel
had retired for the night, he went into his own tent and returned with a
flask of whisky. During the next half-hour he drank frequently. Then he
went over and sat on the end of the sledge, just beyond the reach of
Kazan's chain.

"Got you, didn't I?" he repeated, the effect of the liquor beginning to
show in the glitter of his eyes. "Wonder who changed your name, Pedro.
And how the devil did he come by you? Ho, ho, if you could only
talk--"
They heard Thorpe's voice inside the tent. It was followed by a low
girlish peal of laughter, and McCready jerked himself erect. His face
blazed suddenly red, and he rose to his feet, dropping the flask in his
coat pocket. Walking around the fire, he tiptoed cautiously to the
shadow of a tree close to the tent and stood there for many minutes
listening. His eyes burned with a fiery madness when he returned to the
sledge and Kazan. It was midnight before he went into his own tent.
In the warmth of the fire, Kazan's eyes slowly closed. He slumbered
uneasily, and his brain was filled with troubled pictures. At times he
was fighting, and his jaws snapped. At others he was straining at the
end of his chain, with McCready or his mistress just out of reach. He
felt the gentle touch of the girl's hand again and heard the wonderful
sweetness of her voice as she sang to him and his master, and his body
trembled and twitched with the thrills that had filled him that night.
And then the picture changed. He was running at the head of a splendid
team--six