The Road House there was the turning point, where the teams would pass
round a pole at which was stationed a guard; and the collection of
buildings which marked the end of half of the course looked distant
indeed to the five young mushers who with their teams had now become, to
the watchers in Nome, merely small moving black specks against the
whiteness of the snow.
George and Dan had discussed the matter fully in the preceding days, and
had decided that, like "Scotty," they would do all of the real driving
on the way home. So it was not at all disconcerting, some time before
they reached the turn, to meet two of the teams coming back. The third,
Jim's, had been diverted at the Road House by a large family of small
pigs in an enclosure surrounded by wire netting; and Jim's most alluring
promises and his direst threats were both unavailing against the charms
of the squealing, grunting creatures, the like of which his spellbound
chargers had never seen before.
Dan was several hundred feet ahead of George, and the latter could but
look with some misgivings at the even pace of Judge, Jimmie and Pete; a
pace that as yet showed no sign of weakening. Of course should Mego's
pups prove faster than his own team, he would loyally give all credit
due the driver and dogs; but it would be a bitter disappointment indeed
if Spot did not manifest the wonderful speed that Matt had always
predicted for him, and if there was no evidence in superior ability, of
the long hours of careful attention that George had devoted to his
education as a leader.
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