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"
It
would
be
a
mercy
to
kill
him
,
"
Scott
insisted
.
"
He
's
untamable
.
"
"
Now
look
here
,
Mr.
Scott
,
give
the
poor
devil
a
fightin
'
chance
.
He
ai
n't
had
no
chance
yet
.
He
's
just
come
through
hell
,
an
'
this
is
the
first
time
he
's
ben
loose
.
Give
'
m
a
fair
chance
,
an
'
if
he
do
n't
deliver
the
goods
,
I
'll
kill
'
m
myself
.
There
!
"
"
God
knows
I
do
n't
want
to
kill
him
or
have
him
killed
,
"
Scott
answered
,
putting
away
the
revolver
.
"
We
'll
let
him
run
loose
and
see
what
kindness
can
do
for
him
.
And
here
's
a
try
at
it
.
"
He
walked
over
to
White
Fang
and
began
talking
to
him
gently
and
soothingly
.
"
Better
have
a
club
handy
,
"
Matt
warned
.
Scott
shook
his
head
and
went
on
trying
to
win
White
Fang
's
confidence
.
White
Fang
was
suspicious
.
Something
was
impending
.
He
had
killed
this
god
's
dog
,
bitten
his
companion
god
,
and
what
else
was
to
be
expected
than
some
terrible
punishment
?
But
in
the
face
of
it
he
was
indomitable
.
He
bristled
and
showed
his
teeth
,
his
eyes
vigilant
,
his
whole
body
wary
and
prepared
for
anything
.
The
god
had
no
club
,
so
he
suffered
him
to
approach
quite
near
.
The
god
's
hand
had
come
out
and
was
descending
upon
his
head
.
White
Fang
shrank
together
and
grew
tense
as
he
crouched
under
it
.
Here
was
danger
,
some
treachery
or
something
.
He
knew
the
hands
of
the
gods
,
their
proved
mastery
,
their
cunning
to
hurt
.
Besides
,
there
was
his
old
antipathy
to
being
touched
.
He
snarled
more
menacingly
,
crouched
still
lower
,
and
still
the
hand
descended
.
He
did
not
want
to
bite
the
hand
,
and
he
endured
the
peril
of
it
until
his
instinct
surged
up
in
him
,
mastering
him
with
its
insatiable
yearning
for
life
.
Weedon
Scott
had
believed
that
he
was
quick
enough
to
avoid
any
snap
or
slash
.
But
he
had
yet
to
learn
the
remarkable
quickness
of
White
Fang
,
who
struck
with
the
certainty
and
swiftness
of
a
coiled
snake
.
Scott
cried
out
sharply
with
surprise
,
catching
his
torn
hand
and
holding
it
tightly
in
his
other
hand
.
Matt
uttered
a
great
oath
and
sprang
to
his
side
.
White
Fang
crouched
down
,
and
backed
away
,
bristling
,
showing
his
fangs
,
his
eyes
malignant
with
menace
.
Now
he
could
expect
a
beating
as
fearful
as
any
he
had
received
from
Beauty
Smith
.
