Білий ікол
The Clinging Death
"Andhowmuchforonethat’sallcheweduplikethisone?"Scottasked,nudgingWhiteFangwithhisfoot.
"Halfofthat,"wasthedog-musher’sjudgment. ScottturneduponBeautySmith.
"Didyouhear,Mr.Beast?I’mgoingtotakeyourdogfromyou,andI’mgoingtogiveyouahundredandfiftyforhim."
Heopenedhispocket-bookandcountedoutthebills.
BeautySmithputhishandsbehindhisback,refusingtotouchtheprofferedmoney.
"Iain’ta-sellin’,"hesaid.
"Oh,yesyouare,"theotherassuredhim."BecauseI’mbuying.Here’syourmoney.Thedog’smine."
BeautySmith,hishandsstillbehindhim,begantobackaway.
Scottsprangtowardhim,drawinghisfistbacktostrike. BeautySmithcowereddowninanticipationoftheblow.
"I’vegotmyrights,"hewhimpered.
"You’veforfeitedyourrightstoownthatdog,"wastherejoinder."Areyougoingtotakethemoney?ordoIhavetohityouagain?"
"Allright,"BeautySmithspokeupwiththealacrityoffear. "ButItakethemoneyunderprotest,"headded. "Thedog’samint.Iain’ta~goin’toberobbed.Aman’sgothisrights."
