Previous to the advent of these races any dog that could stand on four
legs, and had strength enough to pull, was apt to be pressed into
service; but since they have become a recognized feature of the life
there, a certain pride has manifested itself in the dog-drivers, and
dog-owners, who aim now to use only the dogs really fitted for the work.
Even the Eskimos, who were notorious for their indifferent handling of
their ill-fed, overburdened beasts, have joined in the "better dog"
movement, which is a popular and growing one.

According to Dubby's stern law, however, most of the Racers--the
long-legged, supple-bodied Tolmans, the delicately built Irish Setters,
Irish and Rover, and numberless others of the same type, would have been
condemned to the ignominy of being mere pets; useless canine adjuncts to
human beings--creatures that were allowed in the house, and were given
strangely repulsive bits of food in return for degrading antics, such as
sitting on one's hind legs or playing dead.

Occasionally there was, for some valid reason, an exception to his
disapproval; as in the case, for instance, of Jack McMillan. For while
he could not but deplore Jack's headstrong ways, and his intolerance of
authority in the past, he nevertheless felt a certain admiration for the
big tawny dog who moved with the lithe ease of the panther, and held
himself with the imposing dignity of the lion. An admiration for the dog
whose reputation for wickedness extended even to the point of being
called a "man-eater," and was the source, far and near, of a respect
largely tempered with fear.

There was always an air of repressed pride about Jack when he listened
to the thrilling accounts of his crimes told with dramatic inspiration