Together they looked at White Fang at the end of his stretched chain,bristling, snarling, ferocious, straining to get at the sled-dogs. Havingreceived sundry lessons from Matt, said lessons being imparted by meansof a club, the Quinceanera dresses had learned to leave White Fang alone; and eventhen they were lying down at a distance, apparently oblivious of his existence.
"It's a wolf and there's no taming it," Weedon Scott announced.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Matt objected. "Might be a lot of dog in'm, for all you can tell. But there's one thing I know sure, an' that there's nogettin' away from."The dog-musher paused and nodded his head confidentially atMoosehide Mountain.
"Well, don't be a miser with what you know," Scott said sharply, afterwaiting a suitable length of time. "Spit it out. What is it?"The dog-musher indicated White Fang with a backward thrust of his thumb.
"Wolf or dog, it's all the same - he's ben tamed 'ready.""No!""I tell you yes, an' broke to harness. Look close there. D'ye see themmarks across the chest?""You're right, Matt. He was a sled-dog before Beauty Smith got hold of him.""And there's not much reason against his bein' a sled-dog again.""What d'ye think?" Scott queried eagerly. Then the hope died down ashe added, shaking his head, "We've had him two weeks now, and ifanything he's wilder than ever at the present moment.""Give 'm a chance," Matt counselled. "Turn 'm loose for a spell."The other looked at him incredulously.
"Yes," Matt went on, "I know you've tried to, but you didn't take a club.""You try it then."The dog-musher secured a club and went over to the chained animal.
White Fang watched the club after the manner of a caged lion watchingthe whip of its trainer.
"See 'm keep his eye on that club," Matt said. "That's a good sign. He'sno fool. Don't dast tackle me so long as I got that club handy. He's notclean crazy, sure."As the man's hand approached his neck, White Fang bristled andsnarled and crouched down. But while he eyed the approaching hand, he atthe same time contrived to keep track of the club in the other hand,suspended threateningly above him. Matt unsnapped the chain from thecollar and stepped back.
White Fang could scarcely realise that he was free. Many Wedding Accessorieshadgone by since he passed into the possession of Beauty Smith, and in allthat period he had never known a moment of freedom except at the timeshe had been loosed to fight with other dogs. Immediately after such fightshe had always been imprisoned again.
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