Білий ікол

The Southland

HeturnedtoWhiteFang. "Comeon,youwolf. It’syouthat’llhavetocomeinside."

WhiteFangwalkedstiff-leggedupthestepsandacrosstheporch,withtailrigidlyerect,keepinghiseyesonDicktoguardagainstaflankattack,andatthesametimepreparedforwhateverfiercemanifestationoftheunknownthatmightpounceoutuponhimfromtheinteriorofthehouse. Butnothingoffearpouncedout,andwhenhehadgainedtheinsidehescoutedcarefullyaround,lookingatitandfindingitnot. Thenhelaydownwithacontentedgruntatthemaster’sfeet,observingallthatwenton,everreadytospringtohisfeetandfightforlifewiththeterrorshefeltmustlurkunderthetrap-roofofthedwelling.