garments. "Is it
snowin'?" he asked, in sudden alarm.

"Snowing!" exclaimed the boy. "Of course it's snowing--it's been snowing
since yesterday noon."

The man's voice dropped into a whine. "The winders is frosted so you
can't see out. I bet he's lost. Go find him, can't you? What're you
standin' there fer?"

Righteous indignation succeeded the flash of disgust engendered by the
man's first words. And Connie stepped closer. "Look here, who do you
think you're talking to? I don't know who you are, and I don't want to.
What I can't figure is how you ever got this far. If nobody else had
bothered to knock some common sense and decency into you it's a wonder
your partner hasn't. But I guess he don't know the difference between
you and a man or he wouldn't be your partner." Connie turned on his heel
and started for the door.

"Hey, where you goin'?" wailed the man on the bunk.

"I'm going out and tend to my dogs," answered the boy.

"Build a fire first, an' cook me some grub! I ain't had nothin' since
yesterday."

"After the dogs," said Connie as he banged the door behind him.

"Le's mush," said 'Merican Joe, when they returned to the dogs.

Connie grinned. "No, we can't do that. I've seen some pretty raw
_chechakos_, but never one like him. If we pulled out they'd probably
both die."

'Merican Joe gave an expressive shrug. "_S'pose_ we ain't got no grub.
He ain' care _we_ die."

"No, but we're men, and he----"

"He ain' so good lak Injun dog," interrupted 'Merican Joe.

"Just about--but we can't go off and leave him, at that."

Twenty minutes later Connie and the Indian entered the cabin.

"You took yer time about it," complained the man. "Hustle around now an'
cook me up a meal of vittles."

"Where's your firewood?" asked the boy, smothering his wrath.

"Go out an' cut it, same as we do."

"Don't you keep any ahead, nor any kindlings?"

"Naw, it's bad enough to cut a little at a time."

Connie's glance sought the room. "Where's the ax?"

"Out in the brush, I guess. My partner cut the wood last. I don't know
where he left it."

"Well, it's under about two feet of snow now," answered the boy dryly,
as 'Merican Joe departed to get their own ax and cut some wood.

By the time the cabin was warmed and the man fed, the storm had ceased.
"Let me have a look at your foot," said Connie. "I expect it had better
be tended to." The man assented, and the boy turned back the covers and,
despite much groani