huddering as he did so,
passed him a mug of weak beef tea.

The creature's eyes were alight with a somber frenzy, which blazed and
waned with every mouthful. There was very little skin to the face. The
face, for that matter, sunken and emaciated, bore little likeness to
human countenance.

Frost after frost had bitten deeply, each depositing its stratum of
scab upon the half-healed scar that went before. This dry, hard surface
was of a bloody-black color, serrated by grievous cracks wherein the
raw red flesh peeped forth. His skin garments were dirty and in
tatters, and the fur of one side was singed and burned away, showing
where he had lain upon his fire.

Malemute Kid pointed to where the sun-tanned hide had been cut away,
strip by strip--the grim signature of famine.

'Who--are--you?' slowly and distinctly enunciated the Kid.

The man paid no heed.

'Where do you come from?' 'Yan-kee ship come down de ri-ib-er,' was the
quavering response.

'Don't doubt the beggar came down the river,' the Kid said, shaking him
in an endeavor to start a more lucid flow of talk.

But the man shrieked at the contact, clapping a hand to his side in
evident pain. He rose slowly to his feet, half leaning on the table.

'She laughed at me--so--with the hate in her eye; and
she--would--not--come.' His voice died away, and he was sinking back
when Malemute Kid gripped him by the wrist and shouted, 'Who? Who would
not come?' 'She, Unga. She laughed, and struck at me, so, and so. And
then-' 'Yes?'

'And then--' 'And then what?' 'And then he lay very still in the snow a
long time. He is-still in--the--snow.' The two men looked at each other
helplessly.

'Who is in the snow?' 'She, Unga. She looked at me with the hate in her
eye, and then--'

'Yes, yes.' 'And then she took the knife, so; and once, twice--she was
weak. I traveled very slow. And there is much gold in that place, very
much gold.' 'Where is Unga?' For all Malemute Kid knew, she might be
dying a mile away. He shook the man savagely, repeating again and
again, 'Where is Unga? Who is Unga?' 'She--is--in--the--snow.' 'Go on!'
The Kid was pressing his wrist cruelly.

'So--I--would--be--in--the snow--but--I--had--a--debt--to--pay.
It--was--heavy--I--had--a-debt--to--pay--a--debt--to--pay I--had-' The
faltering monosyllables ceased as he fumbled in his pouch and drew
forth a buckskin sack. 'A--debt--to--pay--five--pounds--of--gold-grub--
stake--Mal--e--mute--Kid--I--y--'