ke made it a point to drop into Wentworth's
cabin at meal-time. But one thing did he note that was suspicious, and
that was Wentworth's suspicion of him. Next he tried sounding out Laura
Sibley.

"Raw potatoes would cure everybody here," he remarked to the seeress. "I
know it. I've seen it work before."

The flare of conviction in her eyes, followed by bitterness and hatred,
told him the scent was warm.

"Why didn't you bring in a supply of fresh potatoes on the steamer?" he
asked.

"We did. But coming up the river we sold them all out at a bargain at
Fort Yukon. We had plenty of the evaporated kinds, and we knew they'd
keep better. They wouldn't even freeze."

Smoke groaned. "And you sold them all?" he asked.

"Yes. How were we to know?"

"Now mightn't there have been a couple of odd sacks left?--accidentally,
you know, mislaid on the steamer?"

She shook her head, as he thought, a trifle belatedly, then added, "We
never found any."

"But mightn't there?" he persisted.

"How do I know?" she rasped angrily. "I didn't have charge of the
commissary."

"And Amos Wentworth did," he jumped to the conclusion. "Very good.
Now what is your private opinion--just between us two. Do you think
Wentworth has any raw potatoes stored away somewhere?"

"No; certainly not. Why should he?"

"Why shouldn't he?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

Struggle as he would with her, Smoke could not bring her to admit the
possibility.

"Wentworth's a swine," was Shorty's verdict, when Smoke told his
suspicions.

"And so is Laura Sibley," Smoke added. "She believes he has the
potatoes, and is keeping it quiet, and trying to get him to share with
her."

"An' he won't come across, eh?" Shorty cursed frail human nature with
one of his best flights, and caught his breath. "They both got their
feet in the trough. May God rot them dead with scurvy for their reward,
that's all I got to say, except I'm goin' right up now an' knock
Wentworth's block off."

But Smoke stood out for diplomacy. That night, when the camp groaned and
slept, or groaned and did not sleep, he went to Wentworth's unlighted
cabin.

"Listen to me, Wentworth," he said. "I've got a thousand dollars in
dust right here in this sack. I'm a rich man in this country, and I can
afford it. I think I'm getting touched. Put a raw potato in my hand and
the dust is yours. Here, heft it."

And Smoke thrilled when Amos Wentworth put out his hand in the darkness
and hefted