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Updated: May 8, 2025
Into the village he strode, past the store, the miners' cabins, and up the trail toward the Indian encampment. He had just reached the forks of the road when a heart-rending cry for help split the air. Pete paused in amazement, while with a roar Brisko bounded forward.
The dogs squatting around wondered what had come over their master. Yukon poked his nose into the listless hand, while Brisko, with pricked-up ears, awaited some word of greeting. Keith heeded them not, but sat long and quietly at the table working out his new plan. "It will do!" he exclaimed at length. "Hey, Yukon, old boy! we'll beat Perdue and his bad whiskey yet, won't we?
Look," and Keith pointed to an ugly scar on the dog's side, over which the hair had not grown. Pritchen did not reply, but stepped forward to obtain a better view, at which Brisko retreated, still showing his teeth.
For this, Brisko, old boy, you shall have a home with me, or, I should say, an abiding place, for I hardly know the meaning of the word home." Before leaving the cabin, Keith had searched long and carefully for some clue as to the dead man's identity. There was only the little locket, which he felt might some day help to explain the matter.
The cause of this change of attitude was the half-wolf dog Brisko, who with his back to the door was growling in the most ferocious manner. His teeth gleamed white, his eyes glowed, and the hair on his back stood straight on end. Not since the terrible night of the fight with the wolves had Keith seen the brute so much aroused.
"I'd growl too," went on Keith, "if I were a dog, and met the man who treated me that way, and left my master to die in the wilderness, though God knows, Bill, that I have more cause than Brisko to show my teeth when I think of what you have done to Nellie and the little ones." At these words Pritchen threw off all semblance of pretension.
Brisko we'll leave with Amos to get some flesh on his staring ribs." The dog pricked up his ears, wagged his tail, and gave a joyful bark. "Very well, master," he seemed to say, "you can depend upon me. I've never failed you yet." In less than an hour Keith stood girt for his long run. His face glowed with enthusiasm; his mission was one of mercy, and it thrilled his whole being.
They will kill me!" "Why, there's nothing to harm you," Keith replied. "It's your own dog come back to you, and he's licking your hands and face in his delight." A gleam of intelligence stole into the man's eyes, as he looked slowly around, somewhat relieved. "My dog?" he continued. "Brisko? Not wolves?" "No, not a wolf near. You are safe." The man trembled. He caught Keith by the hand.
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