"And you think," questioned the Woman with lips that quivered and eyes that were dim, "that they will be treated well, that—" Her voice was unsteady and she hesitated.
The young Captain seemed to divine all the unspoken fears.
"There is very little danger in the work," he assured her readily. "They will probably be used entirely in courier and carrier service in the passes of the French Alps.
"I belong to an Alpine Corps myself, and they will be under my direct supervision, so far as possible. Really," with honest conviction, "they will be far better off than if you sold them to freighters or prospectors for a life of toil, possibly of neglect even. All soldiers, irrespective of nationality, are good to the animals in their charge."
"I suppose it's true," sighed the Woman, "that we cannot go on accumulating dogs indefinitely; that some of them must be sold from time to time. And I, too, would rather see them go like this than to feel they might suffer worse hardships and abuses on the Trail."
"Scotty" met them at the door of the Kennel. "Come in, and we'll all go over the place together. It will not take long now to make up the rest of the required number," and he skimmed quickly over the paper in his hand.
Matt, hovering near, doing unnecessary things for the dogs, was plainly much disturbed. George and Dan, full of a war atmosphere produced by the French officer, and a kennel and corral guarded night and day, conversed eagerly of the important affairs that were happening about them; while Ben, listening apparently to their serious discussions of the European situation, as likely to be affected by this purchase, was in reality beset with a dread that drove all else from his mind.
"It's going to be a hard choice," the Woman mused as she glanced down the long line of stalls on either side, and one end, of the roomy stable.
"Scotty" paused before the Mego dogs that had fought so valiantly for first honors in the Juvenile Race.