Inn. Do we win?"
Macdonald reached for his hat promptly. "You win."
CHAPTER VIII
THE END OF THE PASSAGE
Wally Selfridge was a reliable business subordinate, even though he had
slipped up in the matter of the appointment of Elliot. But when it came
to facing the physical hardships of the North he was a malingerer. The
Kamatlah trip had to be taken because his chief had ordered it, but the
little man shirked the journey in his heart just as he knew his soft
muscles would shrink from the aches of the trail.
His idea of work was a set of tennis on the outdoor wooden court of the
Kusiak clubhouse, and even there his game was not a hard, smashing one,
but an easy foursome with a girl for partner. He liked better to play
bridge with attendants at hand to supply drinks and cigars. By nature he
was a sybarite. The call of the frontier found no response in his
sophisticated soul.
The part of the journey to be made by water was not so bad. Left to his
own judgment, he would have gone to St. Michael's by boat and chartered
a small steamer for the long trip along the coast through Bering Sea.
But this would take time, and Macdonald did not mean to let him waste
a day. He was to leave the river boat at the big bend and pack across
country to Kamatlah. It would be a rough, heavy trail. The mosquitoes
would be a continual torment. The cooking would be poor. And at the end
of the long trek there awaited him monotonous months in a wretched coal
camp far from all the comforts of civilization. No wonder he grumbled.
But though he grumbled at home and at the club and on the street about
his coming exile, Selfridge made no complaints to Macdonald. That man of
steel had no sympathy with the yearnings for the fleshpots. He was used
to driving himself through discomfort to his end, and he expected as
much of his deputies. Wherefore Wally took the boat at the time
scheduled and waved a dismal farewell to wife and friends assembled upon
the wharf.
Elliot said good-bye to the Pagets and Miss O'Neill ten days later.
Diane was very frank with him.
"I hear you've been sleuthing around, Gordon, for facts about Colby
Macdonald. I don't know what you have heard about him, but I hope you've
got the sense to see how big a man he is and how much this country here
owes him."
Gordon nodded agreement. "Yes, he's a big man."
"And he's good," added Sheba eagerly. "He never talks of it, but one
finds out splendid things he has d
|