dicated
that there could be no refusal of such a treasure.

The White Chief sat down leisurely on a box of pilot bread as if to
better enjoy the situation.

"No, my boy," he said with another laugh. "Your disdainful aunt is
going to pay me for Kobuk in coin which you will learn more of bye and
bye." He turned to the girl. "I'm not such a bad fellow, Jean," he
continued with an attempt at an ingenuous smile. "Come, kiss me once
and the dogs is yours."

Over Jean's face swept conflicting emotions, disgust, contempt for the
man, pity for the moaning dog whose life depended on her decision. The
Indian, stolid and unseeing, had already laid a hand on Kobuk's collar.

Ellen, unable to remain silent longer, started forward unnoticed by the
others in the tenseness of the moment, but before she had taken two
steps Loll had taken charge of the situation.

Going close he rested a hand on either knee of the trader and looked up
earnestly into the man's pale eyes.

"Chief," he spoke half-apologetically as man to man, "you see Jean--"
he indicated his aunt with a tilt of his head--"Jean doesn't like to
kiss strange men--but I don't mind." And before anyone realized what
was happening, the boy had taken Kilbuck's face between two small hands
and pressed cool, childish lips to the man's forehead.

Jean caught her nephew in her arms impulsively. "You darling!" Half
laughing, half crying she buried her face in his neck. "You darling!"

"Well, that's settled!" said Loll in his matter of fact tones as he
wriggled to free himself. "Kobuk's ours now. Thank you, Chief. I'll
have--" He broke off with a shout to welcome Ellen, whom he had just
seen. "Hey, mothey! He's ours now. Gimme the pinchers!" He took
them from Ellen's hand and started toward the quill-filled Kobuk, who,
sensing perhaps a change in his fortunes, had risen expectantly to his
feet.

Shane, entering the doorway at that moment, was apprized of the
addition to the family. The next two hours were spent by the Borelands
in extracting quills from the repentant Kobuk. For the first time in
his life, perhaps, the pain-racked animal was soothed and cheered
during the hated operation by quaint old Irish terms of endearment,
punctuated with advice.

"But there'll be no more porky hunting for you, me lad," Shane assured
the dog as he pulled the last quill. "For the very first fine day we
have we're off for the Island of Kon Klayu and divil a thing you'll