Often Ben, whose mother had obtained work in town so that he might go to school regularly, joined in these important discussions; and while somewhat older than his companions, he greatly enjoyed being with them, for they were manly little fellows and had picked up much valuable dog lore from “Scotty” and Matt.

The Woman, too, for no apparent reason, was frequently at these serious conclaves, and was apt to voice rather trifling views on the weighty matters in debate.  George felt that she was entitled only to the courteous toleration one accords the weaker sex in matters too deep for their inconsequent minds to grasp fully; for even if she was his father’s racing partner, she had openly acknowledged that she considered dogs a pastime, and not a life study, which naturally proved her mental limitations.

[Illustration:  The Woman]

One of the events already assured was a race for boys under nine years of age.  “It’s too bad you’re too old for it, Ben,” George had exclaimed sympathetically.  “Father’s told Danny and me we can use some of his dogs; and he’d ‘a’ been glad t’ do the same for you.  When I want t’ drive fast dogs, and go t’ the Moving Pictures at night, and drink coffee, I wish I was old too; but now I can see that gettin’ old’s pretty tough on a feller sometimes.”

“Mebbe there’ll be a race fer the older boys later,” replied Ben hopefully.  “I dunno as I could do much myself, but I sure would like t’ try Baldy out.  He minds so quick I think he’d be a fine leader; an’ it looks like he’d be fast from the way he chases rabbits and squirrels out on the tundra.”

“You can’t allers tell about that,” observed Dan pessimistically.  “I got a dog that’s a corker when he’s just chasin’ things; but when I put a harness on him he ain’t fit for a High School Girl’s Racin’ Team, an’ you know what girls is for gettin’ speed out of a dog.  ’You poor tired little doggie, you can stop right here an’ rest if you want to; I don’t care if they do get ahead of us,’” and Danny finished his remarks in the high falsetto and mincing inflection he attributed to the youthful members of a sex that in his opinion, as well as in George’s, has no right to engage in the masculine occupation of Dog Mushing.

“Of course,” said George, looking thoughtfully at Baldy, who was lying contentedly at Ben’s feet, and giving voice to the wisdom of “Scotty” or Matt in such discussions, “of course, in a dog that’s goin’ in for the Big Race, you got t’ have more’n speed.  You can’t depend on just that for four hundred and eight miles.  There’s got t’ be lots of endurance an’ the dogs had ought t’ really enjoy racin’ t’ do their best.  But for this race we’re goin’ in, Danny, I guess speed’s the whole thing.  Speed, an’ the dog’s mindin’ you.”  George glanced involuntarily toward Jack McMillan, who sat with his head resting against the Woman’s knee.  “You can’t do anythin’ at all, no matter how fast dogs is, if they don’t mind.”