ided and, whirling, he swung a
boom-like arm at the agile stranger. Before it landed, Captain
stepped in to meet his adversary and, with the weight of his body
behind the blow, drove a clenched and bony fist crashing into the
other's face. The big head with its blazing shock of hair snapped
backward and the whaler drooped to his knees at the other's feet.

The drunken flush of victory swept over Captain as he stood above the
swaying figure; then, suddenly, he felt the great bare arms close
about his waist with a painful grip. He struck at the bleeding face
below him and wrenched at the circling bands which wheezed the breath
from his lungs, but the whaler squeezed him writhing to his breast,
and, rising, unsteadily wheeled across the floor and in a shiver of
broken glass fell crashing against the bar and to the floor.

As the struggling men writhed upon the planks the door opened at the
hurried entrance of an excited group, which paused at the sight of
the ruin, then, rushing forward, tore the men apart.

The panting Berserker strained at the arms about his glistening body,
while Captain, with sobbing sighs, relieved his aching lungs and
watched his enemy, who frothed at the interference.

"It was George's fault," explained Slim to the questions of the
arrivals. "This feller tried to make a get-away, but George had to
have his amusement."

A new-comer addressed the squaw-man in a voice as cold as the wind.
"Cut this out, George! This is a friend of mine. You're making this
camp a regular hell for strangers, and now I'm goin' to tap your
little snap. Cool off--see?"

Jones's reputation as a bad gun-man went hand in hand with his name
as a good gambler, and his scanty remarks invariably evoked attentive
answers, so George explained: "I don't like him Jones, and I was jus'
makin' him over to look like a man. I'll do it yet, too," he flashed
wrathfully at his quiet antagonist.

"'Pears to me like he's took a hand in the remodelling himself,"
replied the gambler, "but if you're lookin' for something to do,
here's your chance. Windy Jim just drove in and says Barton and Kid
Sullivan are adrift on the ice."

"What's that?" questioned eager voices, and, forgetting the recent
trouble at the news, the crowd pressed forward anxiously.

"They was crossing the bay and got carried out by the off-shore
gale," explained Jones. "Windy was follerin' 'em when the ice ahead
parted and begun movin' out. He tried to yel