"Worse than that; we've got ten feet less than nothing."

Shorty departed down the bank on the run. Five minutes later he
returned. In response to Joy's look, he nodded. Without speech, he went
over to a log and sat down to gaze steadily at the snow in front of his
moccasins.

"We might as well break camp and start back for Dawson," Smoke said,
beginning to fold the blankets.

"I am sorry, Smoke," Joy said. "It's all my fault."

"It's all right," he answered. "All in the day's work, you know."

"But it's my fault, wholly mine," she persisted. "Dad's staked for me
down near Discovery, I know. I'll give you my claim."

He shook his head.

"Shorty," she pleaded.

Shorty shook his head and began to laugh. It was a colossal laugh.
Chuckles and muffled explosions yielded to hearty roars.

"It ain't hysterics," he explained. "I sure get powerful amused at
times, an' this is one of them."

His gaze chanced to fall on the gold-pan. He walked over and gravely
kicked it, scattering the gold over the landscape.

"It ain't ourn," he said. "It belongs to the geezer I backed up five
hundred feet last night. An' what gets me is four hundred an' ninety
of them feet was to the good--his good. Come on, Smoke. Let's start the
hike to Dawson. Though if you're hankerin' to kill me I won't lift a
finger to prevent."

IV. SHORTY DREAMS.

"Funny you don't gamble none," Shorty said to Smoke one night in the
Elkhorn. "Ain't it in your blood?"

"It is," Smoke answered. "But the statistics are in my head. I like an
even break for my money."

All about them, in the huge bar-room, arose the click and rattle and
rumble of a dozen games, at which fur-clad, moccasined men tried their
luck. Smoke waved his hand to include them all.

"Look at them," he said. "It's cold mathematics that they will lose more
than they win to-night, that the big proportion are losing right now."

"You're sure strong on figgers," Shorty murmured admiringly. "An' in
the main you're right. But they's such a thing as facts. An' one fact is
streaks of luck. They's times when every geezer playin' wins, as I know,
for I've sat in such games an' saw more'n one bank busted. The only way
to win at gamblin' is wait for a hunch that you've got a lucky streak
comin' and then play it to the roof."

"It sounds simple," Smoke criticized. "So simple I can't see how men can
lose."

"The trouble is," Shorty admitted, "that most men gets fooled on their
hunches.