Then why was McCready there?
He watched McCready as he entered, and suddenly the dog was on his feet, his back tense and bristling, his limbs rigid.

He saw McCready's huge shadow on the canvas, and a moment later there came a strange piercing cry.

In the wild terror of that cry he recognized _her_ voice--and he leaped toward the tent.

The leash stopped him, choking the snarl in his throat.

He saw the shadows struggling now, and there came cry after cry.