him,
and he died before I could get him trained, you remember."

"H'm! Well, we'll see. We might get some fool to buy him. Anyway,
you'd better tell Sam to pry him round a bit somehow when the
show's opening. He looks all right when he gets a move on him, but
he ain't worth a hill o' beans lyin' curled up there in a corner.
How'd it do to get a dingo, and put it in there with him!"

"You might as well give him a mouse. He'd swaller it whole. He's
twice the size of a dingo."

"He sure is twice as sulky as any beast I ever saw. An' that blame
book-writin' chap from the city the other night said he reckoned
the Giant was a dog, an' not a wolf at all! Nice sociable sort of a
dog for a family gathering, I _don't_ think!"

"You should have asked the gent to go in his cage an' try 'im with
a bit of sugar. My bloomin' Colonial! He wouldn't have written any
more books."

And now, whenever the boss met Sam, he would "jolly" the young man
a bit, as he said, regarding the Giant Wolf as a bargain, and ask
what Sam had done with the fifteen pounds, and whether he had any
other cheap freaks to sell. Also, Sam's half-crown was docked from
his wages; and Sam, after all, had never laid claim to any bigness
of heart or philosophy of mind. He had long since spent the fifteen
pounds. The twenty-five shillings he had paid for Finn loomed
larger in his recollection now than the fifteen pounds he had
received; particularly after a dose of the boss's chaff.

"Why the blazes can't yer learn, an' work fer yer livin', ye ugly
great brute?" Sam would growl, as he threw Finn his daily portion
of flesh. And, more often than not, he would pick up a stake, and
thrust viciously at the Wolfhound, or strike at him as he crept
forward to snatch his meat. Thus, as poor Finn saw it, another of
the strange man-like beasts had gone mad, and was to be treated as
a dangerous enemy.

If the Professor had continued his daily attempts to cow Finn, as a
preliminary to training, he would have been likely to succeed at
about this time; for the Wolfhound was losing strength daily, and
though the fire of wrath and fierceness burned strongly when he saw
the leather-coated man, it had little to feed on now, and must soon
have died down under the hot bar and the wired whip. But the
Professor could not be expected to know this. He had had as many as
sixty futile struggles with Finn, and, as he thought, had only
stopped short of killing the Giant outright. But idle