"He'll do," he growled. "He's lighter by ten or fifteen pounds than the Dane, but he's got the teeth, an' the quickness, an' he'll give a good show before he goes under."
"I'll make you a bet of twenty-five per cent. of my share that he don't go under," offered Sandy.
"Done!" said the other. "How long before he'll be ready?"
Sandy thought a moment.
"Another week," he said. "He won't have his weight before then. A week from to-day, we'll say. Next Tuesday night. Does that suit you, Harker?"
Harker nodded.
"Next Tuesday night," he agreed. Then he added, "I'll make it a half of my share that the Dane kills your wolf-dog."
Sandy took a long look at Kazan.
"I'll just take you on that," he said. Then, as he shook Harker's hand, "I don't believe there's a dog between here and the Yukon that can kill the wolf!"