Connie Morgan in the Fur Country

s pipe and gazed thoughtfully through the window of the little log office which was situated on the bank of Ten Bow Creek, overlooking the workings. His eyes strayed from the intricate syst

ed. "An' now we're rich-an' I'm an 'office miner' with a game laig, an

building, erected a month before, were the general offices of the partners, the construction and hydraulic engi

e one-roomed log cabin across the creek, and upon this, the first day of his installation in his new quarters, he grinned happily out of the window as he watched Cain, the construction engineer, wallow through t

he called. "The floor's solide

print, spread it upon the rough pine desk, and glanced with disapproval abo

key engine, so you get the water into them sluices? Or what do I care whether the bookkeeper keeps all the accounts separate, or adds gum-boots, an' cyanide, an' sandpaper, an' wages all up in one colyumn? Or whether the chemist uses peroxide of magentum, or sweet spirits of rawhide, so he gits t

er he rolled up the blue print and buttoned his mackinaw. "By the way, Waseche,"

ied Waseche

Alaska, and a lot of the correspondence that comes in you've got to handle yourself. You know your spelling

ot a half dozen s

him. He came in yesterday, with Black Jack Demeree's mail team." Cain's eyes twinkled as he paused and grinned. "He's only been in the country a few weeks-a rank chechako-but try to put u

nd him along-mebbe my spellin' an', as the fellow says,

a typewriter. Waseche glared as the miners withdrew, and a young man of twenty-one or-two stepped into the room. He w

the new stenographer. You

head in resignation. "Well-almost, from what Cai

eight to the other foot. "

,' an' the 'Mister Antrim.' I ain't no Englishman. I'm an American. I ain't no 'sir,' nor likewise 'mister.' My name's Waseche Bi

al Lafo

avely rolling the name upon his tongue. "'W

no,

wh

ered Percival,

ve got that said, you're through with t

girls-the Flor

aseche, solemnly. "Did

a handful of letters on the pine t

bonnet, an' pry the lid off that there

been watching him closely, noted that he shivered slightly, as he removed his overcoat, and that he

est, then his thin shirt, and took his undershirt between his thumb and finger. Then he snorted in disgust. "Lo

shade paler, buttoned his cloth

here! Where

I tho

that there book an' pencil over in the corner, an' put on your coat an' hat an' hit over to Scotty MacDougall's store an' tell him to give you a reg'lar man's outfit of clothes. No wonder you're a lunger; dressin' in them hen-skins! Git p

Mr. De

an Blac

Jack loaned

aseche in a kindly tone. "An' you've got to look like a man-an' act like a man-an' be a man. You've got a lot to live down-with a name like that-an' a woman's job-an' a busted lung-an' a servant's manners. I n

ould not come, and Waseche interrupted him. "By the wa

an Indian wrapped in blankets. Neither Connie nor the Indian received more than a passing glance, for in the lead of the team, sharp pointed muzzle low to the ground and huge shoulders heaving into the harness, was the g

t wolf we saw on the trail! Black Jack Demeree said he'

t bein' a man. Don't you squinch back-if he eats you up! The next ten minutes will make or break you, for good an' all." And hardly were the wor

He's mine! I'll tell you all abou

ed and grinned

illicum,"

e led the great dog to him, the man laid

s death, that his lips were drawn into a thin, bloodless line, and that little beads of sweat stood out like dew on the white brow. But even as

is here's Roarin' Mike O'Reilly, from over on the Tanana. He's our new stenographer, an' while he goes an'

of how, out of gratitude, the Indian had presented him with Leloo. Waseche eyed the great ruffed animal sombrely, as Connie dwelt upon his curiously mixed nature-how

ute I ever seen-barrin' none. But keep your eye on him. If he ever gits

oy. "And, Waseche, where do yo

tchin' such a lookin' brute-beast as

d the Mackenzie! He

he come away," ans

Pass, and outfit at Fort Norman on the Mackenzie, and then strike out for the eastern end of Great Bear Lake, and the barren grounds. We're g

smart of a little ja'nt. With nothin' betwee

er strike. And if we

inter out in them there barren lands, an' freeze an' starve, an' have good

untry we'd see! And

ighty slim information, but never as slim as what you've got. I read your book, an' all them old parties had to go on was the stories of some Injuns-an' the whole mess of 'em's be'n dead most two hundred years! An' I think the book's a

trail outfit while Waseche looked on. After

" he said. "Me an' Roarin' Mike O'R

se glance. "He must be some rough bird to

ed Waseche solemnly. "He ea

-panc

ike, he takes 'em as they come. Didn't

mn as an owl. "And I don't like

hurt your dog when we see

an keep your eye on him. If he ever gets loos

claimed he kin spell-better'n what I kin. An' when he g

into the fire. There's something to him, even if the names did get mixed on the package when they shipped him in. I suppose that somewhere o

middle of Alaska an' winter comin' on-an' nothin' between him an' freezin' but them hen-skin clothes? An' I was watchin', too, when he laid his hand on the dog's head. He was so scairt that the sweat was jest a-bubblin' out of him-an' yet, he retch out an' done like I done-an' believe me, I wasn't none too anxious to fool with that brute, myself. I done it to see if he would. I'm goin' to take holt an' make a reg'lar man out of him. I figger we kin git through the office work by noon every day. If we don't, them birds over in the thinkers' shack is in for more overtime. In the afternoons I'm goin' to keep him out in the air-that's all a lunger

ned Connie. "When I come back I ex

him move his traps up here. I won't be s

nterrupt

is made of whang leather, an' besides, he ain't no floor spitter-I watched him in t

following morning they departed at daylight, with half of Ten Bow waving good-bye, as