He is still
playing stud.

"'Where's my casket?' says I. 'I've got my dead man, but I don't collect
on him till he's crated and f. o. b.' The trader has an ace in the hole
and two kings in sight, so he says over his shoulder:

"'I'm sorry, old man, but while you was asleep a tenderfoot jumped your
coffin.' Now, this Dawson Sam has a crooked bank dealer named--"

"I think I'll go back to bed," said I.

THE WEIGHT OF OBLIGATION

This is the story of a burden, the tale of a load that irked a strong
man's shoulders. To those who do not know the North it may seem strange,
but to those who understand the humors of men in solitude, and the
extravagant vagaries that steal in upon their minds, as fog drifts with
the night, it will not appear unusual. There are spirits in the
wilderness, eerie forces which play pranks; some droll or whimsical,
others grim.

Johnny Cantwell and Mortimer Grant were partners, trail-mates, brothers
in soul if not in blood. The ebb and flood of frontier life had brought
them together, its hardships had united them until they were as one.
They were something of a mystery to each other, neither having
surrendered all his confidence, and because of this they retained their
mutual attraction. Had they known each other fully, had they thoroughly
sounded each other's depths, they would have lost interest, just like
husbands and wives who give themselves too freely and reserve nothing.

They had met by accident, but they remained together by desire, and so
satisfactory was the union that not even the jealousy of women had come
between them. There had been women, of course, just as there had been
adventures of other sorts, but the love of the partners was larger and
finer than anything else they had experienced. It was so true and fine
and unselfish, in fact, that either would have smilingly relinquished
the woman of his desires had the other wished to possess her. They were
young, strong men, and the world was full of sweethearts, but where was
there a partnership like theirs, they asked themselves.

The spirit of adventure bubbled merrily within them, too, and it led
them into curious byways. It was this which sent them northward from the
States in the dead of winter, on the heels of the Stony River strike; it
was this which induced them to land at Katmai instead of Illiamna,
whither their land journey should have commenced.

"There are two routes over the coast range," the captain of