Білий ікол
The Southland
Andhere,inthisinfernoofluggage,wasWhiteFangdesertedbythemaster. OratleastWhiteFangthoughthewasdeserted,untilhesmelledoutthemaster’scanvasclothes-bagsalongsideofhim,andproceededtomountguardoverthem.
"‘Bouttimeyoucome,"growledthegodofthecar,anhourlater,whenWeedonScottappearedatthedoor. "Thatdogofyournwon’tletmelayafingeronyourstuff."
WhiteFangemergedfromthecar. Hewasastonished. Thenightmarecitywasgone. Thecarhadbeentohimnomorethanaroominahouse,andwhenhehadentereditthecityhadbeenallaroundhim. Intheintervalthecityhaddisappeared. Theroarofitnolongerdinneduponhisears. Beforehimwassmilingcountry,streamingwithsunshine,lazywithquietude. Buthehadlittletimetomarvelatthetransformation. Heaccepteditasheacceptedalltheunaccountabledoingsandmanifestationsofthegods.Itwastheirway.
Therewasacarriagewaiting. Amanandawomanapproachedthemaster. Thewoman’sarmswentoutandclutchedthemasteraroundtheneck—ahostileact! ThenextmomentWeedonScotthadtornloosefromtheembraceandclosedwithWhiteFang,whohadbecomeasnarling,ragingdemon.
"It’sallright,mother,"ScottwassayingashekepttightholdofWhiteFangandplacatedhim. "Hethoughtyouweregoingtoinjureme,andhewouldn’tstandforit. It’sallright.It’sallright. He’lllearnsoonenough."
"AndinthemeantimeImaybepermittedtolovemysonwhenhisdogisnotaround,"shelaughed,thoughshewaspaleandweakfromthefright.
