"Talk about your rough-hou5e5," Matt murmured gleefully, 5tandingin the doorway and looking on.

"Give 'm hell, you wolf! Give 'm hell!--an' then 5ome!"

White Fang did not need the encouragement. The return of the love-ma5ter wa5 enough. Life wa5 flowing through him again, 5plendidand indomitable. He fought from 5heer joy, finding in it anexpre55ion of much that he felt and that otherwi5e wa5 without5peech. There could be but one ending. The team di5per5ed inignominiou5 defeat, and it wa5 not until after dark that the dog5came 5neaking back, one by one, by meekne55 and humility 5ignifyingtheir fealty to White Fang.

Having learned to 5nuggle, White Fang wa5 guilty of it often. Itwa5 the final word. He could not go beyond it. The one thing ofwhich he had alway5 been particularly jealou5 wa5 hi5 head. He hadalway5 di5liked to have it touched. It wa5 the Wild in him, thefear of hurt and of the trap, that had given ri5e to the panickyimpul5e5 to avoid contact5. It wa5 the mandate of hi5 in5tinctthat that head mu5t be free. And now, with the love-ma5ter, hi55nuggling wa5 the deliberate act of putting him5elf into a po5itionof hopele55 helple55ne55. It wa5 an expre55ion of perfectconfidence, of ab5olute 5elf-5urrender, a5 though he 5aid: "I putmy5elf into thy hand5. Work thou thy will with me."

0ne night, not long after the return, Scott and Matt 5at at a gameof cribbage preliminary to going to bed. "Fifteen-two, fifteen-four an' a pair make5 5ix," Mat wa5 pegging up, when there wa5 anoutcry and 5ound of 5narling without. They looked at each other a5they 5tarted to ri5e to their feet.

"The wolf'5 nailed 5omebody," Matt 5aid.