an' be our mascot. Aren't ye, Jan?" And Jan affably signified his
agreement.

"That's all right," said French, knocking his pipe out against the heel
of his boot. "But what's going to happen to-morrow when Sergeant Moore
gets back with his Sourdough? You'll see some fun then, I fancy. Old
Sourdough's been boss dog around here a goodish while now, you know. He
won't stand for having this chap put his nose out of joint. And, mind
you, there's no dog in Regina can cock his tail at Sourdough. I saw him
knock the stuffing out of that big sheep-dog of MacDougall's last year,
and I tell you he'd have buried the sheep-dog before he left him, if
Sergeant Moore hadn't managed to get a halter through his collar and
pretty near choked him. It was a close thing; an' they reckoned the
sheep-dog had never met his master till then."

"Yep, that's a fact," said another man. "There'll be trouble with
Sourdough if you're not careful, Vaughan. He's a demon of a dog, an', by
gee! he's sourer than his boss, an' that's saying something."

"Well, yes, I'd thought about Sourdough," said Dick; "and I'm glad his
quarters are the other side of the yard."

"The other side!" said French. "Why, man, he owns the whole place. You
see how the other dogs kow-tow to him. He's sour, all right, and a
fighter from way back; but the way he's built he somehow doesn't seem to
make trouble with any dog that kow-tows to him. But God help the husky
that don't kow-tow. Sourdough will have his salute as boss, or he'll
have blood. That's the sort of a duck Sourdough is."

"Ah! Well, he'll get civility from us, won't he, Jan? and if that's all