hate in his dark eyes. "Say, that swine has got all us
fellers by the back o' the neck, and he twists us this way and that as
he darn pleases, till we're well-nigh crazy. I'd give half a life to cut
it--to make a break that would quit me of it all. But----"

"You're scared," Tough laughed, as he gulped at his spirit. "Guess we
all are." Then he added as an after-thought: "I wonder. I don't know I
would if--I dared. He's tough. He'd beat a dead man to pieces if he felt
that way. He's plumb to the neck in work that 'ud shame a black, but he
pays good for the doin' of it. And he reckons to pay you mighty well, if
you put this thing through right. Best hand me your news. He don't want
it wrote out."

Nicol leant back in his chair, and thrust his feet on the rail of the
stove.

"No, he don't fancy a thing wrote out," he said. "And anyway I'm writin'
out nothing for Lorson Harris. He's got one piece of my paper, and I
guess that's mostly why I'm here."

"And your summer trip?"

Tough recalled his host to the business in hand. He did it amiably,
almost pleasantly, but such things were entirely upon the surface. Tough
Alroy was Lorson's most trusted agent.

Nicol shook his head.

"Guess I didn't do all I figured to," he said. "You see, my fool woman
took on and died. It cut the season short. But I located ther's a fort
way out more than three hundred miles north-east of this lousy hole.
Yes, it's more than three hundred miles north-east. Might be even four
hundred. And there are folks running it. White folks. Three of my
Shaunekuk boys got it dead pat. They ran into an outfit of queer sort of
Eskimo pelt hunters. They were hunting the territory away north, up
along this darn river. And they came from that post to the north-east.
They said they were part of an outfit run by a feller named Brand. He
was one of the white men running that post. They said these folk traded
with Seal Bay. It was a big piece of luck. You see, the Shaunekuk never
go into Unaga proper. They're scared to death of it. They make the
forests along this river, that's all. Well, this outfit of queer Eskimo
haven't ever been seen along this territory before. So you see I might
have saved myself one hell of a rush trip that only took me to a place
where I got a sight of a mighty tough looking hill, all smoke and fire.
The three neches were out on their own and had their yarn waiting on me
when I got back. That's my yarn, and all there is to it. Guess it