ind her, but here was somebody they had found
and did not know. Even the women could not place her, and they knew
every good dancer in the camp. Many took her for one of the official
clique, indulging in a silly escapade. Not a few asserted she would
disappear before the unmasking. Others were equally positive that she
was the woman-reporter of the Kansas City Star, come to write them up
at ninety dollars per column. And the men at the scales worked busily.

At one o'clock every couple took to the floor. The unmasking began amid
laughter and delight, like that of carefree children. There was no end
of Oh's and Ah's as mask after mask was lifted. The scintillating
'Aurora Borealis' became the brawny negress whose income from washing
the community's clothes ran at about five hundred a month. The twin
'Sun-Dogs' discovered mustaches on their upper lips, and were
recognized as brother Fraction-Kings of El Dorado. In one of the most
prominent sets, and the slowest in uncovering, was Cal Galbraith with
the 'Spirit of the Pole.' Opposite him was Jack Harrington and the
'Russian Princess.' The rest had discovered themselves, yet the 'Greek
Dancer' was still missing. All eyes were upon the group. Cal Galbraith,
in response to their cries, lifted his partner's mask. Freda's
wonderful face and brilliant eyes flashed out upon them. A roar went
up, to be squelched suddenly in the new and absorbing mystery of the
'Russian Princess.' Her face was still hidden, and Jack Harrington was
struggling with her. The dancers tittered on the tiptoes of expectancy.
He crushed her dainty costume roughly, and then--and then the revelers
exploded. The joke was on them. They had danced all night with a
tabooed native woman.

But those that knew, and they were many, ceased abruptly, and a hush
fell upon the room.

Cal Galbraith crossed over with great strides, angrily, and spoke to
Madeline in polyglot Chinook. But she retained her composure,
apparently oblivious to the fact that she was the cynosure of all eyes,
and answered him in English. She showed neither fright nor anger, and
Malemute Kid chuckled at her well-bred equanimity. The King felt
baffled, defeated; his common Siwash wife had passed beyond him.

'Come!' he said finally. 'Come on home.' 'I beg pardon,' she replied;
'I have agreed to go to supper with Mr. Harrington. Besides, there's no
end of dances promised.'

Harrington extended his arm to lead her away. He evinced not the
sligh