is step was firm and
elastic, they could see that fatigue bore heavily upon him.

An awkward silence had fallen, but his hearty 'What cheer, my lads?'
put them quickly at ease, and the next instant Malemute Kid and he had
gripped hands. Though they had never met, each had heard of the other,
and the recognition was mutual. A sweeping introduction and a mug of
punch were forced upon him before he could explain his errand.

How long since that basket sled, with three men and eight dogs,
passed?' he asked.

'An even two days ahead. Are you after them?' 'Yes; my team. Run them
off under my very nose, the cusses. I've gained two days on them
already--pick them up on the next run.' 'Reckon they'll show spunk?'
asked Belden, in order to keep up the conversation, for Malemute Kid
already had the coffeepot on and was busily frying bacon and moose meat.

The stranger significantly tapped his revolvers.

'When'd yeh leave Dawson?' 'Twelve o'clock.' 'Last night?'--as a matter
of course.

'Today.' A murmur of surprise passed round the circle. And well it
might; for it was just midnight, and seventy-five miles of rough river
trail was not to be sneered at for a twelve hours' run.

The talk soon became impersonal, however, harking back to the trails of
childhood. As the young stranger ate of the rude fare Malemute Kid
attentively studied his face. Nor was he long in deciding that it was
fair, honest, and open, and that he liked it. Still youthful, the lines
had been firmly traced by toil and hardship.

Though genial in conversation, and mild when at rest, the blue eyes
gave promise of the hard steel-glitter which comes when called into
action, especially against odds. The heavy jaw and square-cut chin
demonstrated rugged pertinacity and indomitability. Nor, though the
attributes of the lion were there, was there wanting the certain
softness, the hint of womanliness, which bespoke the emotional nature.

'So thet's how me an' the ol' woman got spliced,' said Belden,
concluding the exciting tale of his courtship. '"Here we be, Dad," sez
she. "An' may yeh be damned," sez he to her, an' then to me, "Jim,
yeh--yeh git outen them good duds o' yourn; I want a right peart slice
o' thet forty acre plowed 'fore dinner." An' then he sort o' sniffled
an' kissed her. An' I was thet happy--but he seen me an' roars out,
"Yeh, Jim!" An' yeh bet I dusted fer the barn.' 'Any kids waiting for
you back in the States?' asked the stranger.

'Nop