Connie Morgan in the Fur Country

line looked ten miles ahead of him. No breath of wind stirred the stinging dead air. His snowshoes became great weights upon his feet which sought to drag him down, down into immea

ing his own dogs, the boy hastened back. The effort taxed his strength to the limit. His he

trike again. "That cabin's only just over th

red death-de white death. We goin'

yours. No more laying down on the job or I'll lay on this whip in earnes

g his mittened hand toward the boy. "Me I'm go 'long wit' you till I

t up there now, and keep those dogs m

mometer. It had dropped forty degrees! Across a half mile of snow they could see the little cabin in the edge of the timber. Only, now the smoke did not rise from the chimney but poured from its mouth and fell heavily to the roof where it rolled slowly to the ground. Motioning with his arm, 'Merican Joe led off down the slope and Connie followed, holding weakly to the tail r

the dogs and when the last one was freed he opened the door

ckled down his throat. He felt warm, and comfortable, and drowsy-so drowsy that it was with an effort that he managed to swallow other spoonfuls of the hot liquid. Slowly he opened his eyes and then stru

d a look of fear haunted her eyes. She pointed toward the door. "But-what is it-out there? The sky is all wrong. There are no clouds, yet it is not blue, and there are many suns

it once before. Tonight will come the northern lights and they will hiss and pop and snap. And they will be so bright it will look

ld men have seen it-beyond Bear Lake. My father and some of the others crawled

to his side. "It is the little Victor," she explained, and Connie noticed that her eyes were wet with tears. Suddenly she broke down and covered her face with her hands while her body swayed to and fro. "Oh, my little man! My little soft baby! He must die-or be terribly scarred by the hand of the re

several times and when he finally spoke his voice sounded hard and gruff. "Quit crying, mam, and help me get this straight. I don't believe your little ki

Norman. But," she leaped to her feet and regarded Connie with a tense, eager look, "can

Mounted and I learned all there was in the manual about smallpox an

le chest-the red blotches

has he b

y before

? Did he vomit? Did h

e has not wanted much to eat-an

look

his fingers, and carefully examined the forehead along the roots of the hair. Then he turned to the woman with a smile. "Put him back," he s

came fast. "Are you sure?" she cried, a great

he Mounted, and the Mounted is always sure. Now, what about this Rainy person that stole the little kid's milk?" But the woman was paying no attention. She was pacing up and down the floor with the baby hugged to her breast-laughing, crying, talking to the little one

ks. He is your friend for life. He is Victor Bossuet, and on the rivers is none like him. I will tell him all-how the little one is dying with the red death, and you come out of the strong cold with the frost i

out my curing him. He'd have been well as ever in a few

er mood changed and she began to pace the floor wringing her hands. "See, now he i

'll get it." He turned to the Indian who had been a silent onlooker. "Come on, Joe, crawl into your outfit. While I get the grub and blankets off the toboggans

all. "I fed the dogs," said the boy as he rummaged in the bag and handed the cans of milk one by one to the woman, "and I could tell your husband is an old-timer

ed an amount, added water, and stirred it as it heated on the stove. Connie watched with interest as she fed it to the

e heading for? I'm in something of a hurry to get to Fort Norman, but I've got a hunch I'm due for a little side trip. He ain't going to be far ahead of me t

s winter he came and lived with us because his money was gone. That is all right he is the brother of my husband. He is welcome. But one does not have to like him. But when my husband tells him to go to Fort Norman for food because we did not know there would be three, he made excuse, and my husband went and René stayed. Then the next day the

he laughed and pushed me away. I begged him to leave me some food, and he laughed the more-and on my knees I implored him to leave the baby's milk. But he would not. He said he had sworn vengeance upon Victor, and now he would take vengeance. He said, 'The brat will not need the milk for he will die anyway, and you will die, and Victor will follow me, and I will lead him to a place I know, and then he will die al

w that a look of wonderful con

ight out of the frozen places where in the winter no men are. Tell me, did not the good God tell you to come to me-to save the little baby's

, reverently, "I g

ith the keen tang of the North. Hastily he made up his pack for the trail. Most of the grub he left behind, and when the woman protested he laug

on the trail of René Bossuet. When they were out of sight of the

Norman," he announced. "Why then do we follow this man's trail? He has done

I was just a little kid with torn clothes and only eight dollars and I thought I didn't have a friend in the world. And then, at Anvik, I found that every one of th

nie took the lead, and pointed to the tracks in the snow. "He's slowing up," he excla

e harness. Connie closed his eyes and pictured to himself what had happened there, in the night, in the sound of the roaring wind, and in the changing lights of the brilliantly flashing aurora. Then he opened his eyes and stepped out into the trampled space and gazed thoughtfully down upon the few scattered bits th

d not only that, but he stole the food from a woman and a sick baby. He thought he could get away with it-'way up here. But there's something in the sile