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Page 68
Jean was very firmly set in his determination not to part with Jan for a
cent under five hundred dollars. (Had not Jan cost him two hundred
dollars on the night of Bill's disappearance?) Had there been any really
knowledgeable judges of dogs in the town just then who needed a dog,
they would hardly have quarreled with his owner over Jan's price. But it
happened there were none. And the result was that Jan had to be put
through his paces five separate times for the benefit of five separate
prospective purchasers, not one of whom was really capable of
appreciating his superlative quality, before the five hundred dollars
demanded did eventually find its way into Jean's pouch and he was called
upon to part with his leader. He intended to give Snip the leadership of
his team now, because Snip was a curiously remorseless creature; and to
buy a husky as cheaply as might be to take the trace ahead of
Blackfoot--kindliest of wheelers.
Jean's parting with Jan was characteristic of the man. He had conceived
an admiring and prideful affection for the big hound, and had liefer
died than allow this to be shown to any other man. His pride in his
dog's ability, his full appreciation of the animal's many points--yes,
he would show these, and very insistently, to any man. But for his
perfectly genuine affection; that, as he understood it, was a culpable
weakness which no living soul must be permitted to suspect--no, not even
Jan himself. And that was where Jean fooled himself. For his occasional
blows and frequent curses did not in the least deceive Jan, who was
perfectly well aware of Jean's fondness for him, and, to a considerable
extent, reciprocated the feeling. He did not love Jean; but he liked the
man, and trusted and respected him for his all-round ability and
competence.
"Ye--es," said Jean, slowly, to the moneyed _chechaquo_ who had
purchased Jan, "tha' Jan, hee's ther bes' lead dog ever I see, an' I've
handled some. But ef you take my word, Mister Beeching, you won' ask Jan
to take no other place than lead in your team. Eef you do, your leader
'll hear about it, en he might lose some hide over it, too, I guess. But
tha' Jan, hee's a great lead dog, all right, an' I'm tellin' you. Well,
so long, boss; I'll be gettin' along. Git back there, you, Jan! By gar!
you stay right there now, when I say so. What 'n hell d'you want
follerin' me? Git back!"
That was how Jean bade Jan good-by. Jan, scenting trouble vaguely, was
determined to stick to Jean, and thought he went about it craftily
enough. But Jean caught him each time, and kicked him back to the place
where the _chechaquo_ stood, cuffing him roughly over the head by way of
final salutation.
"I'll larn ye to foller me," he said, sourly.
"Mighty little _he_ cares for his dogs!" thought the tenderfoot; and he
turned (with his more delicate sentiments) to caress Jan's head. But Jan
abruptly lowered his head to avoid the touch; though, obedient now to
Jean, the proved master, he remained where he had been told to stay.
But these things happened within twenty-four hours of Jan's departure
from that town. In the days immediately preceding this one of his
parting from Jean he had roamed the town at large with Blackfoot, Snip,
and the others of his team, observing, making acquaintances, fending off
attacks, administering punishment, and swaggering with the best among a
great company of sled-dogs of all sorts and sizes and in every varying
grade of condition, from fatted and vainglorious sleekness to downright
emaciation. For there were dogs here who, having recently shared cruelly
hard times with their men, would require weeks of recuperation to make
them fit for the rigors of the trail. Some of this latter sort were for
sale, and could be bought for a tenth of Jan's price, or less. Others,
again, were "resting," as the actors say, while their impoverished
masters worked at some other craft to earn money enough to give them
back the freedom of the trail.
None the less, he felt tolerably forlorn and desolate when, upon his
last evening there, he was led away by his new master, whose name, it
seemed, was Beeching, and locked in a small inclosure of high iron rails
with nine other dogs, the remaining complement of the team in which he
was now to serve. However, for a while he was kept too busy here to
spare much thought for the matter of the loss of his companions.
Every one of the nine strangers was sleek and well fed. _Chechaquo_
Beeching was bound for the sea and civilization, with the moderate pile
which a beginner's luck, rather than any skill or enterprise of his, had
brought him; and he was bent on doing the trip in style, he and his
curious friend, whom he called Harry. Of these nine finely conditioned
dogs, four had met Jan about the town and learned to show him some
deference. Two--Jinny and Poll--were bitches, and therefore not to be
regarded by Jan as possible opponents in a fight; but the remaining
three members of the crowd, lusty huskies, full of meat and insolence,
had never seen the big hound before, and these had to be thrashed pretty
soundly before Jan won his footing in the inclosure.
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