ws that's always snapping generally need
watching, I guess. A feller needs the eyes of a spider to get to
windward of the things lying around Blackrock Sound. Say, I guess it
wouldn't come amiss to dump this patch into the devil's dugout fer fool
skippers, who lost their ships through 'souse,' to navigate around in.
It has you guessin' most of the time. And you're generally wrong,
anyway."

The men sat down at the table, and the steward served the coffee. For
a few moments they were busy helping themselves to the grilled kidneys
and bacon. Presently the steward withdrew.

"It's been a better trip than usual this time of year," Kars said.
"It's a pity running into this squall just now."

The seaman raised a pair of twinkling eyes in his guest's direction.

"It's mostly my experience. Providence generally figgers to hand you
things at--inconvenient times. This darn sound's tricky when there
ain't breeze enough to clear your smoke away. It's fierce when it's
blowing. Guess you'll be glad to see your outfit ashore."

"Ye-es."

"Up country again this year?"

Kars laughed.

"Sure."

The seaman regarded him enviously.

"Guess it must be great only having the weather to beat. A piece of
hard soil under your feet must be bully to work on. That ain't been
mine since I was fourteen. That's over forty years ago."

"There's something to it--sure." Kars sipped his coffee. "But there's
other things," he added, as he set his cup down.

The seaman smiled.

"Wouldn't be Life if there weren't."

"No."

"You're shipping arms," John Dunne went on significantly. "Guns an'
things don't signify all smiles an' sunshine. No, I guess we sea folks
got our troubles. It's only they're diff'rent from other folks. You
ain't the only feller shipping arms. We got cases else. An' a big
outfit of cartridges. I was looking into the lading schedule
yesterday. Say, the Yukon ain't makin' war with Alaska?"

The man's curiosity was evident, but he disguised it with a broad smile.

Kars' steady eyes regarded him thoughtfully. Then he, too, smiled.

"I don't reckon the Yukon's worrying to scrap. But folks inside--I
mean right inside beyond Leaping Horse where the p'lice are--need arms.
There's a lot of low type Indians running loose. They aren't to be
despised, except for their manners. Guess the stuff you speak of is
for one of the trading posts?"

"Can't say. It's billed to a guy named Murray McTavish at Blac