l, free of
the rabies, but crazed with fright, whipped Bettles off his feet and
flashed on up the street. Malemute Kid took a flying shot at Yellow
Fang. The mad dog whirled a half airspring, came down on his back,
then, with a single leap, covered half the distance between himself and
Bettles.

But the fatal spring was intercepted. Lon McFane leaped from the
woodpile, countering him in midair. Over they rolled, Lon holding him
by the throat at arm's length, blinking under the fetid slaver which
sprayed his face. Then Bettles, revolver in hand and coolly waiting a
chance, settled the combat.

''Twas a square game, Kid,' Lon remarked, rising to his feet and
shaking the snow from out his sleeves; 'with a fair percentage to
meself that bucked it.' That night, while Lon McFane sought the
forgiving arms of the Church in the direction of Father Roubeau's
cabin, Malemute Kid talked long to little purpose.

'But would you,' persisted Mackenzie, 'supposing they had fought?'
'Have I ever broken my word?' 'No; but that isn't the point. Answer the
question. Would you?' Malemute Kid straightened up. 'Scruff, I've been
asking myself that question ever since, and--'

'Well?'

'Well, as yet, I haven't found the answer.'

In a Far Country

When a man journeys into a far country, he must be prepared to forget
many of the things he has learned, and to acquire such customs as are
inherent with existence in the new land; he must abandon the old ideals
and the old gods, and oftentimes he must reverse the very codes by
which his conduct has hitherto been shaped. To those who have the
protean faculty of adaptability, the novelty of such change may even be
a source of pleasure; but to those who happen to be hardened to the
ruts in which they were created, the pressure of the altered
environment is unbearable, and they chafe in body and in spirit under
the new restrictions which they do not understand. This chafing is
bound to act and react, producing divers evils and leading to various
misfortunes. It were better for the man who cannot fit himself to the
new groove to return to his own country; if he delay too long, he will
surely die.

The man who turns his back upon the comforts of an elder civilization,
to face the savage youth, the primordial simplicity of the North, may
estimate success at an inverse ratio to the quantity and quality of his
hopelessly fixed habits. He will soon discover, if he be a fit
candidate, that the m