s!" Grant spoke quietly. "Johnny bought one. That's what brought us
from Seattle. We went out on the last boat and figured we'd come in from
this side before the break-up. So--fake! By God!"

"Gee! You fellers bit good." The mail-carrier shook his head. "Well!
You'd better keep going now; you'll get to Nome before the season opens.
Better take dog-fish from Bethel--it's four bits a pound on the Yukon.
Sorry I didn't hit your camp last night; we'd 'a' had a visit. Tell the
gang that you saw me." He shook hands ceremoniously, yelled at his
panting dogs, and went swiftly on his way, waving a mitten on high as he
vanished around the next bend.

The partners watched him go, then Grant turned to Johnny, and repeated:
"Fake! By God! MacDonald stung you."

Cantwell's face went as white as the snow behind him, his eyes blazed.
"Why did you tell him I bit?" he demanded, harshly.

"Hunh! _Didn't_ you bite? Two thousand miles afoot; three months of
hell; for nothing. That's biting some."

"_Well!_" The speaker's face was convulsed, and Grant's flamed with an
answering anger. They glared at each other for a moment. "Don't blame
me. You fell for it, too."

"I--" Mort checked his rushing words.

"Yes, _you_! Now, what are you going to do about it? Welch?"

"I'm going through to Nome." The sight of his partner's rage had set
Mort to shaking with a furious desire to fly at his throat, but,
fortunately, he retained a spark of sanity.

"Then shut up, and quit chewing the rag. You--talk too damned much."

Mort's eyes were bloodshot; they fell upon the carbine under the sled
lashings, and lingered there, then wavered. He opened his lips,
reconsidered, spoke softly to the team, then lifted the heavy dog-whip
and smote the malamutes with all his strength.

The men resumed their journey without further words, but each was
cursing inwardly.

"So! I talk too much," Grant thought. The accusation struck in his mind
and he determined to speak no more.

"He blames me," Cantwell reflected, bitterly. "I'm in wrong again and he
couldn't keep his mouth shut. A hell of a partner, he is!"

All day they plodded on, neither trusting himself to speak. They ate
their evening meal like mutes; they avoided each other's eyes. Even the
guide noticed the change and looked on curiously.

There were two robes and these the partners shared nightly, but their
hatred had grown so during the past few hours that the thought of lying
side by side, limb t