reed refused to stop over and rest, but accepted his pay and
turned his dogs on the back-trail. And as Murchison accepted McNabb's
letter of introduction from Wentworth's hand in the door of the post
trading room, his eyes followed the retreating form of the guide. For
he had caught a malevolent gleam of hate that flashed from the narrowed
black eyes as the man had accepted his pay.

"Ye have not seen the last of yon," he said, turning to Wentworth with
a nod of his head toward the breed. "Alex Thumb is counted a bad man
in the North. I would not rest so easy, an' he was camped on my trail."

Wentworth scowled. "Worthless devil! Kicked on my bringing my trunk.
Wanted me to transfer my stuff into duffle bags and carry a pack to
ease up on his dogs; and then to top it off with, he wasn't going to
let me ride on the sled. But I showed him who was boss. I hired the
outfit and believe me, I rode whenever I felt like it. He may have you
fellows up here bluffed, but not me."

"Well, 'tis none of my business. I was only givin' ye a friendly
warnin'. Come on now till I get my glasses on, an' we'll see what
ye've got here."

Presently he folded and returned the brief note. "An' now what can I
do for ye? Will ye be makin' your headquarters here, or will ye have a
camp of your own down on the river?"

"I think I'll stay here if there's room. When I'm exploring the river
I can take a light outfit along."

"There's plenty of room. There's an empty cabin beside the storehouse,
an' I'll have a stove set up, an' your things moved in. Ye'll take
your meals with me. There's only a couple of Company Injuns, an' my
clerk." Murchison paused. "Sven!" he called. "Sven Larson! Where
are ye? Come down out of that fur loft! I've a job for ye."

Slow, heavy footsteps sounded upon the floor above, and a moment later
two feet appeared upon the ladder, and very deliberately the clerk
negotiated the descent.

"Sven Larson, this is Mr. Wentworth. He's from the States, an' he's
goin' to live in the cabin. Take Wawake an' Joe Irish an' set up a
stove in there, an' move the stuff in that lays outside."

Hedin acknowledged the introduction with a solemn bob of the head, and
as he stared straight into Wentworth's face he blinked owlishly.

"This stove?" he asked, indicating the huge cannon stove in which the
fire roared noisily.

"No! No! Ye numbskull! One of them Yukon stoves. An' be quick about
it."

"What stuff