at his friends.

Red, the proprietor, explained over the bar in a whisper to Captain,
the new man from Dawson: "That's Big George, the whaler. He's a
squaw-man and sort of a bully--see? When he's sober he's on the
level strickly, an' we all likes him fine, but when he gets to
fightin' the pain-killer, he ain't altogether a gentleman. Will he
fight? Oh! Will he fight? Say! he's there with chimes, he is!
Why, Doc Miller's made a grub-stake rebuildin' fellers that's had a
lingerin' doubt cached away about that, an' now when he gets the
booze up his nose them patched-up guys oozes away an' hibernates till
the gas dies out in him. Afterwards he's sore on himself an'
apologizes to everybody. Don't get into no trouble with him, cause
he's two checks past the limit. They don't make 'em as bad as him
any more. He busted the mould."

George turned, and spying the new-comer, approached, eyeing him with
critical disfavour.

Captain saw a bear-like figure, clad cap-a-pie in native fashion.
Reindeer pants, with the hair inside, clothed legs like rock pillars,
while out of the loose squirrel parka a corded neck rose, brown and
strong, above which darkly gleamed a rugged face seamed and scarred
by the hate of Arctic winters. He had kicked off his deer-skin
socks, and stood bare-footed on the cold and draughty floor, while
the poison he had imbibed showed only in his heated face, Silently he
extended a cracked and hardened hand, which closed like the armoured
claw of a crustacean and tightened on the crunching fingers of the
other. Captain's expression remained unchanged and, gradually
slackening his grip, the sailor roughly inquired:

"Where'd you come from?"

"Just got in from Dawson yesterday," politely responded the stranger.

"Well! what're you goin' to do now you're here?" he demanded.

"Stake some claims and go to prospecting, I guess. You see, I wanted
to get in early before the rush next spring."

"Oh! I 'spose you're going to jump some of our ground, hey? Well,
you ain't! We don't want no claim jumpers here," disagreeably
continued the seaman; "we won't stand for it. This is my camp--see?
I own it, and these is my little children." Then, as the other
refused to debate with him, he resumed, groping for a new ground of
attack.

"Say! I'll bet you're one of them eddicated dudes, too, ain't you?
You talk like a feller that had been to college," and, as the other
assented, he scornfully called to his