hangs all right," he said; "give me a box of cartridges."

He emptied his gold-sack in payment for the gun and ammunition, then
remarked: "That pretty nearly cleans me. If I had the price I'd take
them both."

Gale wondered what need induced this fellow to spend his last few
dollars on a fire-arm, but he said nothing until the man had loosened
the bottom buttons of his vest and slipped the weapon inside the band
of his trousers, concealing its handle beneath the edge of his
waistcoat. Then he inquired:

"Bound for the outside?"

"No. I'm locating here."

The trader darted a quick glance at him. He did not like this man.

"There ain't much doing in this camp; it's a pretty poor place," he
said, guardedly.

"I'll put in with you, from its looks," agreed the other. "It's got too
many soldiers to be worth a damn." He snarled this bitterly, with a
peculiar leering lift of his lip, as if his words tasted badly.

"Most of the boys are going up-river," said Gale.

"Well, those hills look as if they had gold in them," said the
stranger, pointing vaguely. "I'm going to prospect."

Gale knew instinctively that the fellow was lying, for his hands were
not those of a miner; but there was nothing to be said. His judgment
was verified, however, when Poleon drew him aside later and said:

"You know dat feller?"

"No."

"He's bad man."

"How do you know?"

"She's leave Dawson damn queeck. Dose Mounted Police t'row 'im on de
boat jus' before we lef." Then he told a story that he had heard. The
man, it seemed, had left Skagway between two suns, upon the disruption
of Soapy Smith's band of desperadoes, and had made for the interior,
but had been intercepted at the Pass by two members of the Citizens'
Committee who came upon him suddenly. Pretending to yield, he had
executed some unexpected coup as he delivered his gun, for both men
fell, shot through the body. No one knew just what it was he did, nor
cared to question him overmuch. The next heard of him was at Lake
Bennett, over the line, where the Mounted Police recognized him and
sent him on. They marked him well, however, and passed him on from post
to post as they had driven others whose records were known; but he had
lost himself in the confusion at Dawson for a few weeks, until the
scarlet-coated riders searched him out, disarmed him, and forced him
sullenly aboard this steamer. The offscourings of the Canadian frontier
were drifting back into their native countr