Page:Fantastic Volume 08 Number 01.djvu/130

 Dane's weight spoiled its leap. Amazement boiled in the hound's little mind as it twisted madly in midair to regain its balance, fell heavily to the pavement, slipped, rolled and scrabbled frantically with blunt claws against the snow covered concrete. It was still trying to rise as Falkland raised the rifle and drove a bullet through its brain.

Lady cowered at the sound of the gun, and whimpered as the man stood over her with the smoking rifle gripped in white knuckled hands.

"Life for a life," Falkland murmured softly. "It's balanced."

She was afraid, but the fear became a wild surge of joy as he knelt beside her murmuring soft words into her ears, with tender hands. It was all right. Everything was all right, she had again found the symbiosis she had lost. She was whole again.

Falkland felt a tightening of his throat as he looked at her and read the message in her eyes. Here was the companionship, the love and loalty he needed to make him complete.

He laughed—and this time it was a happy sound. Together they could da anything. They would find others,—other men and other dogs that still loved men, and together the would rebuild the civilization that had been so nearly lost. He knew it with a bright certainty. His head lifted with confidence as he rose to his feet.

He moved briskly and beside him, already sensitive to his mood, the Dane's pacing turned to a jaunty cakewalk.



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