e; Sal died 'fore any come. Thet's why I'm here.' Belden
abstractedly began to light his pipe, which had failed to go out, and
then brightened up with, 'How 'bout yerself, stranger--married man?'
For reply, he opened his watch, slipped it from the thong which served
for a chain, and passed it over. Belden picked up the slush lamp,
surveyed the inside of the case critically, and, swearing admiringly to
himself, handed it over to Louis Savoy. With numerous 'By gars!' he
finally surrendered it to Prince, and they noticed that his hands
trembled and his eyes took on a peculiar softness. And so it passed
from horny hand to horny hand--the pasted photograph of a woman, the
clinging kind that such men fancy, with a babe at the breast. Those who
had not yet seen the wonder were keen with curiosity; those who had
became silent and retrospective. They could face the pinch of famine,
the grip of scurvy, or the quick death by field or flood; but the
pictured semblance of a stranger woman and child made women and
children of them all.

'Never have seen the youngster yet--he's a boy, she says, and two years
old,' said the stranger as he received the treasure back. A lingering
moment he gazed upon it, then snapped the case and turned away, but not
quick enough to hide the restrained rush of tears. Malemute Kid led
him to a bunk and bade him turn in.

'Call me at four sharp. Don't fail me,' were his last words, and a
moment later he was breathing in the heaviness of exhausted sleep.

'By Jove! He's a plucky chap,' commented Prince. 'Three hours' sleep
after seventy-five miles with the dogs, and then the trail again. Who
is he, Kid?' 'Jack Westondale. Been in going on three years, with
nothing but the name of working like a horse, and any amount of bad
luck to his credit. I never knew him, but Sitka Charley told me about
him.' 'It seems hard that a man with a sweet young wife like his should
be putting in his years in this Godforsaken hole, where every year
counts two on the outside.' 'The trouble with him is clean grit and
stubbornness. He's cleaned up twice with a stake, but lost it both
times.' Here the conversation was broken off by an uproar from Bettles,
for the effect had begun to wear away. And soon the bleak years of
monotonous grub and deadening toil were being forgotten in rough
merriment. Malemute Kid alone seemed unable to lose himself, and cast
many an anxious look at his watch. Once he put on his mittens and
beaver-sk