ome on!" he called back to Lisle.

He sometimes wondered afterward how he endured throughout the day. He was
half dazed; he blundered forward, numbed in body, with his mind too
dulled to be conscious of more than a despairing dejection. As he
scarcely expected to reach the post, it did not matter how soon he fell.
Yet, by instinctive effort stronger than conscious volition, the struggle
for life continued; and Lisle's keen anxiety concerning him diminished as
the hours went by. Every step brought them nearer warmth and shelter, and
made it more possible that help could be obtained if the lad collapsed.
That was the only course that would be available because they were now
crossing a lofty wind-swept elevation bare of timber.

It was afternoon when they entered a long valley, and Lisle, grasping
Crestwick's arm, partly supported him as they stumbled down the steep
descent. Stunted trees straggled up toward them as they pushed on down
the hollow, and Lisle surmised that the journey was almost over. That was
fortunate, for he had some trouble in keeping his companion upon his
feet. At length a faint howl rose from ahead and Lisle stopped and
listened intently. The sound was repeated more plainly, and was followed
by a confused snarling, the clamor of quarreling dogs.

"Malamutes; the freighters can't have started yet with their sledges," he
said to Crestwick, who was holding on to him. "I don't think they can be
more than half a mile off."

"I'll manage that somehow," replied the lad.

They went on through thickening timber, until at last a log house came
into sight. In front of it stood two sledges, and a pack of snapping,
snarling dogs were scuffling in the snow. Lisle was devoutly thankful
when he opened the door and helped the lad into a log-walled room where
four men, two of whom wore furs, were talking. The air was dry and
strongly heated, besides being heavy with tobacco smoke and Crestwick
sank limply into a chair. Gasping hard, he leaned forward, as if unable
to hold himself upright; but Lisle was not alarmed: he had suffered at
times, when exhausted, from the reaction that follows the change from the
bitter cold outside to the stuffiness of a stove-heated room.

"Played out; I'd some trouble to get him along," he explained to the men.
"We're going on to the claims at the gulch to-morrow." Then he addressed
the two in furs: "I guess you'll take me out a letter?"

"Why, of course; but you'll have to hustle,"