Read Online Tails to Wag by Nancy Butler - Free Book Online Page B

eyes that were quick and eager to follow the sound of speech as it fell from the lips of first one and then the other.
    â€œAn’ there’s a lot of work in ’m yet. He’s good for years to come. An’ I do like him. I like him like hell.”
    Once or twice after that Skiff Miller opened his mouth and closed it again without speaking. Finally he said:
    â€œI’ll tell you what I’ll do. Your remarks, ma’am, has some weight in them. The dog’s worked hard, and maybe he’s earned a soft berth an’ has got a right to choose. Anyway, we’ll leave it up to him. Whatever he says, goes. You people stay right here settin’ down. I’ll say good-by and walk off casual-like. If he wants to stay, he can stay. If he wants to come with me, let ’m come. I won’t call ’m to come an’ don’t you call ’m to come back.”
    He looked with sudden suspicion at Madge, and added, “Only you must play fair. No persuadin’ after my back is turned.”
    â€œWe’ll play fair,” Madge began, but Skiff Miller broke in on her assurances.
    â€œI know the ways of women,” he announced. “Their hearts is soft. When their hearts is touched they’re likely to stack the cards, look at the bottom of the deck, an’ lie like the devil—beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. I’m only discoursin’ about women in general.”
    â€œI don’t know how to thank you,” Madge quavered.
    â€œI don’t see as you’ve got any call to thank me,” he replied. “Brown ain’t decided yet. Now you won’t mind if I go away slow? It’s no more’n fair, seein’ I’ll be out of sight inside a hundred yards.”
    â€”Madge agreed, and added, “And I promise you faithfully that we won’t do anything to influence him.”
    â€œWell, then, I might as well be gettin’ along,” Skiff Miller said in the ordinary tones of one departing.
    At this change in his voice, Wolf lifted his head quickly, and still more quickly got to his feet when the man and woman shook hands. He sprang up on his hind legs, resting his fore paws on her hip and at the same time licking Skiff Miller’s hand. When the latter shook hands with Walt, Wolf repeated his act, resting his weight on Walt and licking both men’s hands.
    â€œIt ain’t no picnic, I can tell you that,” were the Klondiker’s last words, as he turned and went slowly up the trail.
    For the distance of twenty feet Wolf watched him go, himself all eagerness and expectancy, as though waiting for the man to turn and retrace his steps. Then, with a quick low whine, Wolf sprang after him, overtook him, caught his hand between his teeth with reluctant tenderness, and strove gently to make him pause.
    Failing in this, Wolf raced back to where Walt Irvine sat, catching his coat-sleeve in his teeth and trying vainly to drag him after the retreating man.
    Wolf’s perturbation began to wax. He desired ubiquity. He wanted to be in two places at the same time, with the old master and the new, and steadily the distance between them was increasing. He sprang about excitedly, making short nervous leaps and twists, now toward one, now toward the other, in painful indecision, not knowing his own mind, desiring both and unable to choose, uttering quick sharp whines and beginning to pant.
    He sat down abruptly on his haunches, thrusting his nose upward, the mouth opening and closing with jerking movements, each time opening wider. These jerking movements were in unison with the recurrent spasms that attacked the throat, each spasm severer and more intense than the preceding one. And in accord with jerks and spasms the larynx began to vibrate, at first silently, accompanied by the rush of air expelled from the lungs, then sounding a low, deep note, the lowest in the register of the human ear. All this was the nervous and muscular