e had risked his life for you
and had saved yours by bringing you to Diane's after he had bandaged
your wounds?"

"That was different. It was part of the game of politics we were
playing."

"You admit that you and your friends lied then. Is it like you could
persuade me that you're telling the truth now?"

The big Alaskan shrugged. "Believe it or not as you like. Anyhow, he's
going back with me to Kusiak--and Holt, too, if he's here."

An excited cackle cut into the conversation, followed by a drawling
announcement from the window. "Your old tillicum is right here, Mac.
What's the use of waiting? Why don't you have your hanging-bee now?"

CHAPTER XXX

HOLT FREES HIS MIND

Macdonald whirled in his tracks.

Old Gid Holt was leaning on his elbow with his head out of the window.
"You better come and beat me up first, Mac," he jeered. "I'm all stove
up with a busted laig, so you can wollop me good. I'd come out there,
but I'm too crippled to move."

"You're not too crippled to go back to Kusiak with me. If you can't
walk, you'll ride. But back you go."

"Fine. I been worrying about how to get there. It's right good of you to
bring one of these here taxis for me, as the old sayin' is."

"Where is the rest of the gold you stole?"

"I ain't seen the latest papers, Mac. What is this stuff about robbin' a
bank and shootin' Milton?"

"You're under arrest for robbery and murder."

"Am I? Unload the particulars. When did I do it all?"

"You know when. Just before you left town."

Holt shook his head slowly. "No, sir. I can't seem to remember it. Sure
it ain't some one else you're thinking about? Howcome you to fix on me
as one of the bold, bad bandits?"

"Because you had not sense enough to cover your tracks. You might just
as well have left a note saying you did it. First, you come to town and
buy one of the fastest dog teams in Alaska. Why?"

"That's an easy one. I bought that team to win the Alaska Sweepstakes
from you. And I'm goin' to do it. The team wasn't handled right or it
would have won last time. I got to millin' it over and figured that old
Gid Holt was the dog puncher that could land those huskies in front.
See?"

"You bought it to make your getaway after the robbery," retorted
Macdonald.

"It's a difference of opinion makes horse-races. What else have you got
against us?"

"We found in your room one of the sacks that had held the gold you took
from the bank."

"That's right. I too