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London, Jack

"The Son Of The Wolf"

Jack Harrington sat beside him, scraping away on his violin and following the dancers.


? ? ? ? It was a unique situation, the undertaking of these three men with the woman. The most pathetic part, perhaps, was the businesslike way in which they went about it. No athlete was ever trained more rigidly for a coming contest, nor wolf-dog for the harness, than was she. But they had good material, for Madeline, unlike most women of her race, in her childhood had escaped the carrying of heavy burdens and the toil of the trail. Besides, she was a clean-limbed, willowy creature, possessed of much grace which had not hitherto been realized. It was this grace which the men strove to bring out and knock into shape.


? ? ? ? 'Trouble with her she learned to dance all wrong,' Prince remarked to the bunk after having deposited his breathless pupil on the table. 'She's quick at picking up; yet I could do better had she never danced a step. But say, Kid, I can't understand this.' Prince imitated a peculiar movement of the shoulders and head- a weakness Madeline suffered from in walking.


? ? ? ? 'Lucky for her she was raised in the Mission,' Malemute Kid answered. 'Packing, you know,- the head-strap. Other Indian women have it bad, but she didn't do any packing till after she married, and then only at first.


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