going to get him. Nothing like that. He
knocked me cold with that loaded suitcase of his. By the looks of him
I'm even for that. Good enough. But here's the point. We stand for
Labor. He stands for Capital. See? Things ain't what they used to be
in Alaska, and it's because of Colby Macdonald and his friends. They're
grabbers--that's what they are. They want the whole works. A hell of a
roar goes up from them when the Government stops their combines, but
all the time they're bearing down a little harder on us workingmen.
Understand? It's up to us to fight, ain't it?"

Later Elliot put this viewpoint before Strong.

"There's something in it," the miner agreed. "Wages have gone down, and
it's partly because the big fellows are consolidating interests. Alaska
ain't a poor man's country the way it was. But Mac ain't to blame for
that. He has to play the game the way the cards are dealt out."

The sky was clear again when the Hannah drew in to the wharf at Moose
Head to unload freight, but the mud in the unpaved street leading to the
business section of the little frontier town was instep deep. Many of
the passengers hurried ashore to make the most of the five-hour stop.
Macdonald, with Mrs. Mallory and their Kusiak friends, disappeared in
a bus. Elliot put on a pair of heavy boots and started uptown.

At the end of the wharf he passed Miss O'Neill. She wore no rubbers and
she had come to a halt at the beginning of the mud. After a momentary
indecision she returned slowly to the boat.

The young man walked up into the town, but ten minutes later he crossed
the gangplank of the Hannah again with a package under his arm. Miss
O'Neill was sitting on the forward deck making a pretense to herself of
reading. This was where Elliot had expected to find her, but now that
the moment of attack had come he had to take his fear by the throat.
When he had thought of it first there seemed nothing difficult about
offering to do her a kindness, yet he found himself shrinking from the
chance of a rebuff.

He moved over to where she sat and lifted his hat. "I hope you won't
think it a liberty, Miss O'Neill, but I've brought you some rubbers from
a store uptown. I noticed you couldn't get ashore without them."

Gordon tore the paper wrapping from his package and disclosed half a
dozen pairs of rubbers.

The girl was visibly embarrassed. She was not at all certain of the
right thing to do. Where she had been brought up young men did not