"I'm not so sure of that, Ben. Of course the team counts for a great deal; so, too, does the skill of the driver. But there are many other things that enter into this contest that do not have to be considered usually. Given a mile of smooth track and horses in perfect condition, well mounted, the fastest one is apt to win. In a race that lasts for over three days and nights, however, through the roughest sort of country, in weather that may range from a thaw to a blizzard, and with fifteen or twenty dogs to manage, the Luck of the Trail is an enormous factor. One team may run into a storm, and be delayed for hours, that another may escape entirely; and a trivial accident may put the best team and driver entirely out of commission." "That's so," agreed Danny. "That's what happened the year 'Scotty' lost the race to Seppala, an' came in second. Don't you know, George, your father told us it was near the end o' the run, an' the dogs was gettin' pretty tired, so he put a loose leader at the head t' give 'em new life--sort t' ginger 'em up. I guess that dog was as tired as the rest, an' nervous, 'cause he missed the trail in a terrible blow an' got separated from 'Scotty' an' went back t' the Road House they'd left last, like he'd been learned t' do. O' course 'Scotty' looked for him a while an' then went back for him. But it lost the race, all right, an' the cinch he had on breakin' the record. With them four hours lost, an' what he done later, he'd 'a' made the best time ever known in a dog race in Alaska. Gee, it was awful." The Woman sighed. "Well, at least they can't blame the loss of _that_ race on you, can they, Jack? It certainly was hard luck, but we will have to be good sports and try it again. Perhaps you'll develop a dog star of the first magnitude for us in your race, boys." George and Danny looked serious. It was a difficult problem--this assembling of a racing team, and the responsibility weighed heavily upon them. Why, it meant the possibility of making a juvenile Record, and winning a Cup, and naturally required a critical consideration of even the smallest details. "If I could only take some o' the Sweepstakes Dogs," mused George regretfully, "it 'ud be dead easy; but Father says it wouldn't be fair t' the fellers that hasn't a racin' stable t' pick from. We got t' use some o' the untried ones. I been thinkin' o' Spot for a leader. He seems sort o' awkward, 'cause he's raw-boned, an' ain't filled out yet; but all the other dogs like him, an' he'd ruther run than eat." "Isn't he pretty young for that position?" hazarded the Woman. "Let me see, he can't be much more than a year old now."