Connie Morgan in Alaska

ance hailed him from the wooden sidewalk, and he recognized others he knew, among the small knots of men who stood about idly discussing the meagre news of the cam

re men, most of whom Waseche knew. They greeted him loudl

ye he

struck it ri

about Cam

a and joined the group, answering a

quired a tall man whose doleful length of sallow countenance had earned him the nickname of Fiddle Face. As he ta

y ain't nawthin' he won't tackle. C'n cook a meal o' vittles that'd mak

t workin' yer cla

oot down, mine sloped off into his'n-run plumb out. An' I come away so's the kid'll have the claim cleah." A silence followed Waseche's simp

med, bringing his hand down on Wasech

ited a large man, removing his feet from the fender of the b

ook a drink fo' quite a spell. Kind

ar you refusin' a drink! Reme

ain't heah no mo' to look afteh the kid, an'-yo' see, the li'l scamp, he's kind o' got it in his head that they ain't no one jest like me-kind o' thinks I really 'mount to some

I call a man!" And the whack that descended upon Waseche

nvitations, sat alone by the stove, thinking. The man was lonely. Until this night he had had no time to realize how much he missed his little partner

is, and the man called Joe la

an's boy-does he fa

n' size," replied Waseche,

r with the kid 'fore you co

lettah, an' come away

he'll stan

end. Why, his claim's good fo' a million! An' the boys up to Ten Bow, they'll see him through-McDougall, an' Dutch Henr

yes. "He done me a good turn onct an' he never asked no odds off

ain't got

led and dropp

aseche?" he asked, after

e a try fo' t

exclaimed Joe. "M

en the nuggets Sven Carlson

ere's Sven C

don

at's where he is! Leastwise, he ain't never be'n h

ked Waseche, ignoring

n't-not to the Lillimuit! Not

tain't so bad a

no one ever come back, 'cept Carlson-an' he was loc

e country?" a

lly know, but Carlson." The man shrugged and glanced over his shoulder. "If I was you, I'd

nored the

the mo'nin'. Sorry ye won't jine me.

luck to ye. I sure

he Bill's departure for the unknown Lillimuit Conn

usly held himself to a ten-hour schedule, and the result was easily apparent in the way

ted. A large man, just emerging from the door, stared in a

lled. "Where might

Bill," the youngster repl

McDougall's team,

ave you see

organ's boy," th

s,

on along up

re?" eagerly in

ht there, this very minute,"

sked the boy, with a s

ctin' trip. Come on, I'll give ye a hand

news of Ten Bow, and recounted in awkward, hesitating sentences stories of his father. Before turning into the bunk assigned to him, the

, producing the well-filled pouch that Black Jack Demaree had thrust into his han

oof long as yo' want to. Why, if I was to cha'ge yo' fo' boa'd an' lodgin' afteh wh

round the stove and stood

you aimin' to hit fer s

course!" The boy seemed

someone gasped, bu

man-an' a good one. He knows what he's up agin', an' if he wants to take a chanct that's his business. But, jes' between us, Waseche

n't come back either!" he exclaimed. "

ed Fiddle Face, bringing his fis

at goes!" There was finality in the man's tone, and one swift glance into the faces of the others told the boy that they were of the same mind, to a man. For the first time in his life, Connie Morgan faced the opposition of men. Instinctively he knew that every man in the room was his friend, but never in his life had he felt so helplessly alone. What could one sma

in the face of the ultimatu

ng the many on top of the rude desk, disappeared down

, an' his jaw clamp shut, that-a-way, a many a time-an' nary time but somethin' happened. We've

ustache. "The kid's got sand, an' he's game plumb through, an' when

if he waited until morning he would have no chance in the world of eluding their vigilance. Minutes counted, for he also knew that once on the trail, he need have no

eading to the rear of the ell, where a small door opened directly into the stockade. With feverish haste he harnessed the dogs and opened the gate. In the shadow of the building he paused and peere

swinging the long team out

d in evident surprise that any one would be hitting the trail at that time of night, and then the door closed and the boy breathed again. He wished tha

ail and slanted out onto the river with Bor

headwaters of Peel River, and that he must head up the Tatonduk and cross a divide. Toward morning he halted at the mouth o

e fact that Waseche's trail was nearly five days old, the old dog sni

dozen dog sleds hit the trail. About ten miles up the Tatonduk

ye, goin' up

apper

g team-Mush! Mush! Mush! Go like de wolf! Stop on my camp. Buy all de grub. Nev' min' de cost-hur' up!

ed. "Papoose, him go! go! go! Try fo

ying dog team, despite the fact that as they progressed the trail grew colder. After many days they came to the foot

the north on the morning of the third of December and raged unabated for four days, ceased as

y were confronted by huge drifts from ten to thirty feet in height, while above them, clinging precariously to the steep side of the mountain that

none dared trust himself to speak-these big men of the North harnessed

ed out upon the bewildering tangle of gleaming peaks. Thanks to the unerring nose of old Boris, and the speed of McDougall's sled dogs, the trail of Waseche had each day become warmer, and the night before the storm, when

d he circled with lowered head. Up and down the jagged ice wall of the glacier he ran, sniffing the snow and whining with eagerness to pick up the trail that he had followed for so many days. And as the boy watched him, a sudden fear clutched at his heart. For instead

anced hopelessly up and down the valley, realizing for the first time that the landm

Waseche-but, if I don't find him, the big men back there that knew Sam Morgan-they'll know Sam Mor

ck his parka hood and strained to catch the faint echo. Again he heard it-the long, bell-like howl of a dog-and as he listened, the man's face paled, and a strange prickling sensation

ogs in their tracks, dashed over the windswept su

ong!" he repeated over and over