? ? ? ? Hark! The wind-vane must be surely spinning. No; a mere singing in his ears. That was all- a mere singing. The ice must have passed the latch by now. More likely the upper hinge was covered. Between the moss-chinked roof-poles, little points of frost began to appear. How slowly they grew! No; not so slowly. There was a new one, and there another. Two- three- four; they were coming too fast to count. There were two growing together. And there, a third had joined them. Why, there were no more spots. They had run together and formed a sheet.
? ? ? ? Well, he would have company. If Gabriel ever broke the silence of the North, they would stand together, hand in hand, before the great White Throne. And God would judge them, God would judge them!
? ? ? ? Then Percy Cuthfert closed his eyes and dropped off to sleep.
? ? ? ? 'DUMP IT IN.'
? ? ? ? 'But I say, Kid, isn't that going it a little too strong' Whisky and alcohol's bad enough; but when it comes to brandy and pepper sauce and-'
? ? ? ? 'Dump it in. Who's making this punch, anyway?' And Malemute Kid smiled benignantly through the clouds of steam.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99