lved much wrong. Malemute Kid was aware
of this, and he had Cal Galbraith's measure accurately.

He knew a hasty word was the father of much evil; besides, he was
minded to teach a great lesson and bring shame upon the man. So Stanley
Prince, the young mining expert, was called into the conference the
following night as was also Lucky Jack Harrington and his violin. That
same night, Bettles, who owed a great debt to Malemute Kid, harnessed
up Cal Galbraith's dogs, lashed Cal Galbraith, Junior, to the sled, and
slipped away in the dark for Stuart River.

II

'So; one--two--three, one--two--three. Now reverse! No, no! Start up
again, Jack. See--this way.' Prince executed the movement as one should
who has led the cotillion.

'Now; one--two--three, one--two--three. Reverse! Ah! that's better. Try
it again. I say, you know, you mustn't look at your feet.
One--two--three, one--two--three. Shorter steps! You are not hanging to
the gee-pole just now. Try it over.

'There! that's the way. One--two--three, one--two--three.' Round and
round went Prince and Madeline in an interminable waltz. The table and
stools had been shoved over against the wall to increase the room.
Malemute Kid sat on the bunk, chin to knees, greatly interested. Jack
Harrington sat beside him, scraping away on his violin and following
the dancers.

It was a unique situation, the undertaking of these three men with the
woman.

The most pathetic part, perhaps, was the businesslike way in which they
went about it.

No athlete was ever trained more rigidly for a coming contest, nor
wolf-dog for the harness, than was she. But they had good material, for
Madeline, unlike most women of her race, in her childhood had escaped
the carrying of heavy burdens and the toil of the trail. Besides, she
was a clean-limbed, willowy creature, possessed of much grace which had
not hitherto been realized. It was this grace which the men strove to
bring out and knock into shape.

'Trouble with her she learned to dance all wrong,' Prince remarked to
the bunk after having deposited his breathless pupil on the table.
'She's quick at picking up; yet I could do better had she never danced
a step. But say, Kid, I can't understand this.' Prince imitated a
peculiar movement of the shoulders and head--a weakness Madeline
suffered from in walking.

'Lucky for her she was raised in the Mission,' Malemute Kid answered.
'Packing, you know,--the head-strap. Other Indian women ha