Prev | Current Page 98 | Next

London, Jack

"The Son Of The Wolf"

The half-breeds had been borne to the trail and bore it easily; but the young policeman was badly exhausted. Still, the dogged obstinacy of his race held him to the pace he had set, and would hold him till he dropped in his tracks.


? ? ? ? 'When did Westondale pull out?' he asked. 'He stopped here, didn't he?' This was supererogatory, for the tracks told their own tale too well.


? ? ? ? Malemute Kid had caught Belden's eye, and he, scenting the wind, replied evasively, 'A right peart while back.'


? ? ? ? 'Come, my man; speak up,' the policeman admonished.


? ? ? ? 'Yeh seem to want him right smart. Hez he ben gittin' cantankerous down Dawson way?'


? ? ? ? 'Held up Harry McFarland's for forty thousand; exchanged it at the P.C. store for a check on Seattle; and who's to stop the cashing of it if we don't overtake him? When did he pull out?'


? ? ? ? Every eye suppressed its excitement, for Malemute Kid had given the cue, and the young officer encountered wooden faces on every hand.


? ? ? ? Striding over to Prince, he put the question to him. Though it hurt him, gazing into the frank, earnest face. of his fellow countryman, he replied inconsequentially on the state of the trail.


Pages:
86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110