? ? ? ? An awkward silence had fallen, but his hearty 'What cheer, my lads?' put them quickly at ease, and the next instant Malemute Kid and he had gripped hands. Though they had never met, each had heard of the other, and the recognition was mutual. A sweeping introduction and a mug of punch were forced upon him before he could explain his errand.
? ? ? ? How long since that basket sled, with three men and eight dogs, passed?' he asked.
? ? ? ? 'An even two days ahead. Are you after them?'
? ? ? ? 'Yes; my team. Run them off under my very nose, the cusses. I've gained two days on them already- pick them up on the next run.'
? ? ? ? 'Reckon they'll show spunk?' asked Belden, in order to keep up the conversation, for Malemute Kid already had the coffeepot on and was busily frying bacon and moose meat.
? ? ? ? The stranger significantly tapped his revolvers.
? ? ? ? 'When'd yeh leave Dawson?'
? ? ? ? 'Twelve o'clock.'
? ? ? ? 'Last night?'- as a matter of course.
? ? ? ? 'Today.'
? ? ? ? A murmur of surprise passed round the circle. And well it might; for it was just midnight, and seventy-five miles of rough river trail was not to be sneered at for a twelve hours' run.
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