But “Scotty” was firm.  “He’s more than that; you couldn’t see what he did in the storm on the Hot Springs Trail.  He’s our best chance.”  Then, “Baldy in the lead, Matt, and be quick; we’re almost due now at the post.”  And so it was Baldy who led the Allan and Darling entry in the Solomon Derby.

It took the strongest self-control and the keenest desire not to shake “Scotty’s” faith in him, to keep Baldy from bolting when he moved through those throngs whose nearness roused in him such unaccountable fear.

Most of the dogs, now more or less accustomed to these gatherings, stood quietly indifferent to the clamor and confusion.

Jack McMillan was distinctly annoyed by it all; he did not wish to have strangers pushing against him, stroking his back, and even taking liberties with his velvety ears.  What was the use of a Black Past, if it did not protect one from such unwelcome familiarities?

Tom, Dick and Harry, as usual, were charmed with the situation; for they dearly loved any sort of a demonstration in which they could figure conspicuously.  Tom, ever anxious to be in the public eye, glanced about and, seeing the United States Marshal, who was known to be an ardent admirer of the Allan and Darling team, jumped upon him, demanding recognition, which was cordially granted.

Baldy, to whom the whole episode was trying in the extreme, did not even resent this little play for favor in official circles, so anxious was he to be over the ordeal, and out in the open speeding away toward the dark and frowning cliffs of Cape Nome, in the dim distance.

Two teams at intervals of ten minutes had started before them, and there were three others to follow.

As it was only sixty-five miles to Solomon and back, Allan decided to try to pass the teams in front, even if he acted as trail-breaker and pace-maker; for there was no necessity in so short a race for generalship in the matter of feeding and resting.

Shortly after they left Fort Davis, four miles down the coast, they could see John Johnson ahead, and still beyond him a rapidly moving dot which Allan knew to be Fred Ayer with his “Ayeroplanes,” as the Woman had dubbed them; facetiously, but with a certain trepidation.  For that splendid team had been successful in many of the shorter races, and bade fair to develop into dangerous antagonists in the longer ones.

But the Allan and Darling dogs, urged on constantly by “Scotty,” went forward at an even gait that soon lessened the space between themselves and the Siberians; when, having passed them, they gained perceptibly upon the others.

The “Ayeroplanes” seemed almost to float along the surface of the snow, so light and smooth was their pace, so harmonious their team action.

But as if impelled by a hidden force he had never felt before, Baldy sturdily forged on and on, till they, too, were left behind.  A new fervor thrilled him as he determined to show that he was more than “just dog.”  No understudy on the stage, given an unexpected opportunity, ever desired more ardently to eclipse the star than did Baldy to fill poor Kid’s place.