Gerald Hamer from Anvik to St. Michaels. There he was
discharged from the company's employ on account of the failure of his
expedition, and finally left Alaska in the same ship that bore
ex-convict Strengel from its shores. An amusing feature of it all was
that both these rascals attributed the ill success of their undertakings
to the unlucky influence of the fur-seal's tooth.

This industrious bit of ivory which exhibited such a fondness for
interfering with the affairs of men and boys, as well as such activity
in rapid travel and change of ownership reposed for several days in Mr.
Platt Riley's vest pocket, where it had been unconsciously thrust and
forgotten. Finally, tired of being thus neglected it worked a hole
through the pocket and fell to the floor. From there it was snapped up
by Mr. Riley's favorite dog, who lay at his feet, and doubtless imagined
it to be a choice morsel provided for him by his indulgent master. A
moment later the Judge was aroused from a reverie by the frantic
struggles of his dog, who seemed on the point of strangulation. When he
succeeded, by prompt effort, in removing the obstruction from the
animal's throat, and, with a feeling of superstitious amazement,
discovered its nature, he started at once for the store of the Yukon
Trading Company, determined to be rid of the uncanny object as quickly
as possible.

It so happened that none of the three occupants of the premises was at
home, nor were they to be seen in any direction. They had been preparing
for departure, and many articles ready for packing on the sledges lay
scattered about the room. Among these was a fur sleeping-bag, on which
Mr. Riley's eye no sooner rested than he thrust the magic tooth into it,
and shook it to the very bottom.

"There!" he exclaimed, "they are sure to take it with them; one of them
will find it sooner or later, and maybe it will bring him good luck. At
any rate I hope it will."

So on the morning of the 5th of February, although the thermometer
registered 48 deg. below zero, the little party set forth from Forty Mile
with three sledges and seventeen dogs. Above the first sledge fluttered
a small flag on which appeared the magic letters "U.S.M.," signifying
that Phil had undertaken to deliver a large packet of letters, the first
mail ever sent out from Forty Mile in winter.

The entire population of the camp was assembled to see them off; and
amid a round of hearty cheers the sledges dashed away up the