so that it
caught the sunlight streaming in through the round cabin window. "By
Jove, it ought to go eighteen dollars to the ounce! It's clean as a
dog's tooth! Silvertip says he and some of his mates panned it one day
at Kon Klayu while the _Sophie Sutherland_ took on water. . . . Of
course the party sent over by Kilbuck's Company didn't find much, but
from what I hear they were a hootch-drinking lot who knew nothing of
mining, and thought only of drawing their pay and keeping drunk. You
can see for yourself, Ellen, what this northern hootch does to a
man--young Harlan is a good example. Gone to the dogs in three months,
though I can't help liking the fellow."

He shifted the gold dust again and bent his head to peer at it through
a small microscope. During the moment's silence came the lap of the
incoming tide against the hull of the schooner.

"That reminds me, Ellen," Boreland went on. "The Chief received word
yesterday from a trading-post down the coast that a revenue cutter is
bound this way on a tour of inspection. Kayak Bill's going to hide his
still and go into retirement until the cutter has finished
investigating. Seems they're always suspecting him of making hootch!"
Shane chuckled with amusement. "Funny old devil--Kayak Bill! I like
the old cuss. I've asked him to come over to the Island with me for a
couple of months until the Chief brings the _Hoonah_ with our winter
outfit."

At the mention of the _Hoonah_ Ellen glanced about the snug, cheerful
cabin that had been her home for many adventurous months. This staunch
little schooner had brought her and her loved ones safely over hundreds
of miles that separated her from her home port. Thoughts came to her
now of wild, stormy nights when she had awakened in her reeling bunk to
the scream of wind in the rigging, the roar of waves, the tramp of
hurried feet overhead and the shouting of voices. At those times she
knew Shane stood at the wheel in the drenching rain giving his orders
for the reefing of sails. During the first days of the voyage the
awakening in a gale had always filled her with a great fear--a fear not
for herself but for her family, her little son. She would clasp the
sleeping boy more closely in her arms and lie with straining muscles,
waiting listening, every sense painfully alert and her eyes
hypnotically watching the garments on the opposite wall swing out and
back with the roll of the ship. Gradually as the schooner r