from the now starving and
insensate clowns who drove them.

Everything but the scant remains of the men's food had, of course, been
jettisoned before this. The dogs made a meal of the smart water-proof
sheets, and Jan ate Beeching's show pair of moccasins. The whole
business forms a wretched and shameful record that need not be
prolonged.

To be quite just, one should mention that Beeching was afoot (hammering
Jan's protruding haunches) when they staggered into the township on the
evening of the thirty-fifth day. Harry lay groaning on the sled, and had
been there, too lame to walk, he said, too despicable, perhaps, for
Death's consideration, for three days and more. The ten-dog team of
prime-conditioned animals of five weeks before consisted now of seven
gaunt, staggering creatures, each a bony framework, masked in dried
blood and bruises; each suffering jarring agony from every tremulous
step taken, and all together (as the market went) worth, it might be--to
a very speculative dog-doctor--say, ten dollars. The team had cost the
deplorable Beeching about three thousand.

But, as a matter of fact, Pad died in the moment of stoppage, and two of
his mates got their release while yet in the traces. Jan, Jinny, and two
others survived still at the bitter end of what was perhaps the most
wretchedly bungled trip ever made over that famous trail.

XXXII

JAN OBEYS ORDERS AT THE GREAT DIVIDE

Experienced observers contended that the most truly remarkable thing
about _Chechaquo_ Beeching was not, after all, his super-slackness or
his criminal stupidity, but his invincible luck.

Where many good men and true, infinitely capable and knowledgeable, had
starved, or failed to make a scavenger's wage, Beeching had tumbled into
possession of a couple of hundred thousand dollars, and, after having
sampled most methods of "burning" money known to the northland, still
had fully half this sum to his credit.

That was one astounding proof of his tenderfoot's luck. But more
remarkable evidence of it was found, by those who understood, in his
memorable journey to salt water.

By all the rules of the game, men said, Beeching and his hanger-on
should have been starved, frozen, and eaten by their outraged dogs a
week or more before the end of their trip. And failing that, some
old-timers pointed out, they should have been publicly lynched on
arrival at salt water.

Instead, they fell into the hands of roughly good-natured me