y?" she asked.

Shand's dead white face made a striking contrast with his raven hair.
His heavy head was thrust forward, his big hands clenched. He spoke in
an oddly, curt, dry voice, which, however did not hide the feeling
that made his breast tight.

"I am no talker," he said. "I'm at a disadvantage. But I got to do the
best I can. I want you as much as him, though I can't tell you so
good. I'm five years younger. That's something. I'm the strongest man
here. That's something, too, in a land where you get right down to
tacks. But that ain't what I want to say. If you come to me, you'll be
the biggest thing in my life. I ain't had much. I'll work for you as
long as I draw breath. All that a man can do for a woman I will do for
you!"

The three others scowled at Shand, astonished and a little dismayed
that the dumb one should prove so eloquent.

Young Joe plunged into the silence. A particular confidence animated
him. With his curly hair, his smooth face, and his herculean young
body, he had a kind of reason for it.

He showed off his charms before her as naively as a cock-grouse. But
somehow the fire of his eyes and voice was a lighter, flashier blaze
than that of the men who had last spoken.

"Sure, they'd be lucky to get you!" he said. "Any of them. Jack is
twenty years older than you. Shand and Husky fifteen, anyhow. I guess
you want a young husband, don't you? How about me? I'm twenty-four.
We're young together. They've had their day. Girls have their own way
of picking out what they want. Jack says look us over. I stand by
that. Look us over good, and say which one you want."

She deliberately did as he bid her. The suspense was unbearable to
them.

"You've heard us all now?" said Jack. "What do you say?"

Bela was the picture of indifference.

"There's anot'er man here," she said.

Jack stared. "Another? Who? Oh, the cook! He ain't one of us. He ain't
got nothing but the shirt on his back!"

Bela shrugged. "You say you want mak' all fair. Let me hear what he
got say."

Here was an unexpected turn to the situation. They glowered at her
with increasing suspicion and anger. Was it possible there was a dark
horse in the race?

"If you want him, I guess you can say so right out, can't you?"
growled Jack.

Bela tossed her head. "I not want him," she said quickly. "I jus' want
hear what he got say."

It was difficult for them to think of the despised grub-rider in the
light of a rival, so they dec