And instead he saw
only the distant cabin at Timber, with poor Baldy crippled and
suffering, bringing bitter disappointment to his friends; and his heart
was filled with grief and longing for the dog.
Black Mart edged through the throng toward Jones. "I told you how it 'ud
be, Moose; that pet o' yourn ain't comin' through as good as you thought
he would when you was so willin' an' anxious t' bet your hard-earned
dust on him. An' I reckon 'Scotty' Allan ain't so pleased with himself
fer goin' agin what most ev'rybody said about his usin' that cur fer a
leader."
"Speakin' o' bets, _an' curs_, Mart, ef you want t' do any more bettin',
I'm willin't' accommodate you. I'm ready t' back my opinion that
'Scotty' kin come in first, without a leader, ef you think any ways
diffr'ent."
Black Mart glanced again at the Bulletin and read slowly--"Rubbing tried
without success. Baldy on sled. Irish and Rover probably in lead.
McMillan's feet still tender. Another storm coming up. Outlook bad."
"Seems kinda onsportsman like, like bettin' on a sure thing; but ef you
really insist, Moose, in the face o' this yere message, why you kin go
as fur's you like. Mebbe a dollar 'ud suit you better, the way things is
goin' now, than a thousand;" and the people laughed at the covert
allusion to their previous wager. Moose Jones whitened visibly under his
thick coat of tan at the insulting manner of his enemy. All of his
hatred culminated in his desire to show his contempt for Mart and his
predictions.
Pages:
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178