In some way he dimly realized that the dogs had turned on
the trail. Given the order, Baldy wheeled instantly, and dashed forward
with no slackening of his former speed, though "Scotty" was lying inert
and useless, an unusual and unexpected burden.
But, wounded and shaken, "Scotty's" spirit was still undaunted; and
uncertain of anything save that you are never beaten till the race is
over, Allan inspired Baldy to do his willing best.
The bitter disappointment of Kid's death was fast yielding to amazement
at Baldy's unsuspected fleetness. Trustworthy he had always been, and
obedient and faithful--but his pace now was a revelation. There was yet
a chance.
"On, Baldy; on boys." And away they flew till the roofs of Solomon
loomed on the horizon, directly ahead.
Solomon at last. At the end of the one short street was a group of
Kennel Club officials, and the entire population of the place, ready to
welcome the coming and speed the parting racers.
To his intense surprise Allan learned that his was the first team in,
his delay having evidently been but a brief one. He resisted all
entreaties that he should have medical attention. "There's no trouble at
all," he maintained stoutly, "so long as my cap is frozen to the wound.
Of course I am a little faint, and dizzy, but that will pass in the
fresh air. Just water the dogs and see that they're all right, will
you?" And resting only the five minutes that are obligatory for the
signing of papers, he was again on his way, as Fred Ayer came into view,
closely followed by Johnson.
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