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The Toil of Trace and Trail

           Aftertwoefforts,theystoodstill,panting. Thewhipwaswhistlingsavagely,whenoncemoreMercedesinterfered. ShedroppedonherkneesbeforeBuck,withtearsinhereyes,andputherarmsaroundhisneck. 

           "Youpoor,poordears,"shecriedsympathetically,"whydon’tyoupullhard?thenyouwouldn’tbewhipped." Buckdidnotlikeher,buthewasfeelingtoomiserabletoresisther,takingitaspartoftheday’smiserablework. 

           Oneoftheonlookers,whohadbeenclenchinghisteethtosuppresshotspeech,nowspokeup: 

           "It’snotthatIcareawhoopwhatbecomesofyou,butforthedogs’sakesIjustwanttotellyou,youcanhelpthemamightylotbybreakingoutthatsled.Therunnersarefrozefast. Throwyourweightagainstthegee-pole,rightandleft,andbreakitout." 

           Athirdtimetheattemptwasmade,butthistime,followingtheadvice,Halbrokeouttherunnerswhichhadbeenfrozentothesnow. Theoverloadedandunwieldysledforgedahead,Buckandhismatesstrugglingfranticallyundertherainofblows. Ahundredyardsaheadthepathturnedandslopedsteeplyintothemainstreet. Itwouldhaverequiredanexperiencedmantokeepthetop-heavysledupright,andHalwasnotsuchaman. Astheyswungontheturnthesledwentover,spillinghalfitsloadthroughthelooselashings. Thedogsneverstopped. Thelightenedsledboundedonitssidebehindthem. Theywereangrybecauseoftheilltreatmenttheyhadreceivedandtheunjustload. Buckwasraging. 

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