"That--that there old dog of mine has follered me faithful and true,
these twelve long hard and hungry years. He's about--about the only
thing that ever cared whether I lived or fell and rotted on the cursed
track."

He rested again; then he continued: "That--that there dog was pupped
on the track," he said, with a sad sort of a smile. "I carried him
for months in a billy, and afterwards on my swag when he knocked
up....And the old slut--his mother--she'd foller along quite
contented--and sniff the billy now and again--just to see if he was
all right....She follered me for God knows how many years. She
follered me till she was blind--and for a year after. She follered me
till she could crawl along through the dust no longer, and--and then I
killed her, because I couldn't leave her behind alive!"

He rested again.

"And this here old dog," he continued, touching Tally's upturned
nose with his knotted fingers, "this here old dog has follered me
for--for ten years; through floods and droughts, through fair times
and--and hard--mostly hard; and kept me from going mad when I had no
mate nor money on the lonely track; and watched over me for weeks when
I was drunk--drugged and poisoned at the cursed shanties; and saved my
life more'n once, and got kicks and curses very often for thanks; and
forgave me for it all; and--and fought for me. He was the only living
thing that stood up for me against that crawling push of curs when
they set onter me at the shanty back yonder--and he left his mark on
some of 'em too; and--and so did I."

He took another spell.