? ? ? ? 'I'm a gone man, Kid. Three or four sleeps at the best. You've got to go on. You must go on! Remember, it's my wife, it's my boy- O God! I hope it's a boy! You can't stay by me- and I charge you, a dying man, to pull on.'
? ? ? ? 'Give me three days,' pleaded Malemute Kid. 'You may change for the better; something may turn up.'
? ? ? ? 'No.'
? ? ? ? 'Just three days.'
? ? ? ? 'You must pull on.'
? ? ? ? 'Two days.'
? ? ? ? 'It's my wife and my boy, Kid. You would not ask it.'
? ? ? ? 'One day.'
? ? ? ? 'No, no! I charge-'
? ? ? ? 'Only one day. We can shave it through on the grub, and I might knock over a moose.'
? ? ? ? 'No- all right; one day, but not a minute more. And, Kid, don't- don't leave me to face it alone. Just a shot, one pull on the trigger. You understand. Think of it! Think of it! Flesh of my flesh, and I'll never live to see him!
? ? ? ? 'Send Ruth here. I want to say good-by and tell her that she must think of the boy and not wait till I'm dead.
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