PLEASE READ THIS ITS ATACTHMENT TO PART 1 Part 2
Buck : Dazed, suffering intolerable pain from throat and tongue, with the life half throttled out of him, Buck attempted to face his tormentors.

But he was thrown down and choked repeatedly, till they succeeded in filing the heavy brass collar from off his neck. Then the rope was removed, and he was flung into a cagelike crate. here he lay for the remainder of the weary night, nursing his wrath and wounded pride.

Buck: And each time the joyful bark that trembled in Buck’s throat was twisted into a savage growl.

But the saloon-keeper let him alone and he could not understand what it all meant. What did they want with him, these strange men? Why were they keeping him pent up in this narrow crate? He did not know why, but he felt oppressed by the vague sense of impending calamity and in the morning four men entered and picked up the crate.

Whereupon he lay down sullenly and allowed the crate to be lifted into a wagon. Then he, and the crate in which he was imprisoned, began a passage through many hands

. Clerks in the express office took charge of him; he was carted about in another wagon; a truck carried him, with an assortment of boxes and parcels, upon a ferry steamer; he was trucked off the steamer into a great railway depot, and finally he was deposited in an express car.

For two days and nights this express car was dragged along at the tail of shrieking locomotives; and for two days and nights Buck neither ate nor drank. In his anger he had met the first advances of the express messengers with growls, and they had retaliated by teasing him.
He flung himself against the bars, quivering and frothing. He did not mind the hunger so much, but the lack of water caused him severe suffering and fanned his wrath to fever pitch.

Buck:That had given them an unfair advantage; but now that it was off, he would show them. They would never get another rope around his neck.

His eyes turned bloodshot, and he was metamorphosed into a raging fiend.

Four men gingerly carried the crate from the wagon into a small, high-walled backyard. A stout man, with a red sweater that sagged generously at the neck, came out and signed the book for the driver.

That was the man, Buck divined, the next tormentor, and he hurled himself savagely against the bars. The man smiled grimly, and brought a hatchet and a club

.Driver: “You ain’t going to take him out now?”