"Not when I heard that cat-call, an' the bow-wow."
"Heard 'em before, eh? Guess this isn't the first scrape I've got ye out of, is it?"
"Should say not. But where in h—— did ye drop from, Sam? I didn't know ye were on board."
"Oh, I'm jist on a visit from the outside. An' it's mighty lucky that I'm here, or else I don't know what 'ud have happened. Better leave cards alone, Curly, if ye can't play without fightin'. They make people act like a bunch of kids."
"It was those d—— fools' fault, though, Sam."
"Thar, now, don't make excuses an' blame others, Curly. That's jist what kids allus do. An' cut out them unholy words. There might be a parson around."
Curly flung himself down upon a seat, and lighted a cigarette. He cast a furtive glance at Reynolds, thinking that perhaps he might be the "parson."
"What have ye been doin', Curly?" the old man asked. "An' why was ye driftin' out under that fog-bank? Ye nearly got left, let me tell ye that."
"I know we did, and I thought that d——, excuse me, Sam," he apologized, as he again glanced toward Reynolds. "I mean, I thought that the fog-bank would never lift. We've been doing some of the islands for several months."
"Strike anything?"
"Nothing, an' nearly starved in the bargain. If it hadn't been fer an
Indian mission, we wouldn't be alive now."
"Then missionaries are of some use after all, Curly. You was allus hard on 'em, if I remember right."
"Umph! They're all right when one's starving. If they'd only leave the Gospel dope out, it wouldn't be so bad."
"Got a dose of it, eh?"
"Should say I did. Morning, noon an' night I had to go to church with the Indians. I've had enough to last me the rest of me life. Say, weren't we glad to get away!"
"Goin' north agin? I thought ye was through, up thar?"
"So did I. But we heard of the new strike at Big Draw, an' decided to try our luck once more."
"Think ye'll hit it this time?"
"I hope so. But it isn't altogether the gold that's taking me back.
There's something more attractive."
"So I imagined."
"I thought you would understand." Curly's voice was eager now. "She'll not escape me this time. Gad, she's a beaut! But as wild as a hawk."
"An' so ye think ye'll corner her, eh?" There was a peculiar note in Samson's voice which Reynolds was quick to detect, but which Curly missed.
"Just you wait an' see," the latter reminded. "That old cuss thinks he's got a regular Gibraltar behind those hills with his lousy Indians. But I'll show him a thing or two."
"Ye've never been thar, have ye?" Samson queried.
"Never. But the bird comes out of her nest sometimes, ye know, an' then——"
"You'll be the hawk, is that it?" Samson asked as the other paused.
"Oh, I'll be around," Curly laughed. "One doesn't run across the likes of her every day, an' she's the gold I'm really after."
"Wall, all I kin say is this," the prospector replied, as he rose slowly to his feet, "that ye'd better be mighty keerful, young man. That Giberalter, as ye call it, is guarded by a lion that ain't to be fooled with. He's got claws that reach from sun-up to sun-down as several smarter ones than you have found out to their sorrow. Leave him alone, an' he'll bother nobody. But interfere with that lass of his, an' the hull north won't be big enough to hide ye. That's my warnin', an' if yer not a fool ye'll heed it."
Reynolds had a good long sleep that afternoon. He had been much disturbed the night before by several men in the next room, who shouted and sang until early morning. During the evening he went out upon deck, well forward, as he wished to be alone, and away from the men who were drinking and gambling in other parts of the steamer. It was a beautiful evening, with scarcely a ripple disturbing the surface of the water. The air was mild, and when the sun went down, the moon rose big and cheery above the dense dark forest away to the right. Reynolds thought over the conversation he had heard between Frontier Samson and the man known as "Curly." That the latter was a scoundrel he had not the slightest doubt. His face alone would have betrayed him even if he had not spoken a word. He was curious concerning the reference to "Gibraltar," the "lion," and the "lass."
As he thus sat and mused, listening to the zip-zip of the vessel as it cut through the water, his mind naturally drifted off to her of the street crossing incident. He wondered what had become of her. Why had she left the railing in such a hurry, and what was the cause of the sudden pallor that had come upon her face? Had Curly anything to do with her agitation, and was it possible that she was the girl to whom he referred? As this idea flashed into his mind, he sat bolt upright in his chair. It did seem reasonable when he considered it. In fact, it gave him a certain degree of pleasure as well. If his suspicions were true, then the girl needed protection from that brute, and was it not his duty to keep a sharp lookout, and if necessary to protect her from all harm?
And as he thought of this, the girl herself came upon deck, and walked at once toward the bow close to the tall flag-staff, which pointed upwards like a quivering slender needle. Reynolds could see her plainly as she stood looking straight before her. A cloak was thrown carelessly over her shoulders, and her head was bare. What a perfect picture of gracefulness she presented to the admiring young man as he watched her by the light of the full-orbed moon. How he longed to go forward, speak to her, and listen to her voice. But, no, he did not dare to do that. He must adore her at a distance and wonder what she was thinking about.
Presently an idea leaped into his mind that thrilled his entire being. He was pushing out into the Great Unknown, with all its dangers and uncertainties. But standing there before him was his guiding star, the one girl in all the world who unconsciously had inspired and stirred him to action. Was she really to be his guiding star? Anyway, the sight of her standing before him seemed to be a favorable portent of the future.
For almost half an hour the girl stood silently at the bow, apparently unconscious that anyone was near. Reynolds remained a long time after she had gone. It was good to be there on such a night, with no one to disturb him, alone with a fair vision before him, and a sweet peace in his soul.
CHAPTER IV
BEYOND THE GREAT WHITE PASS
"All aboard!"
The train was on the point of pulling out from the little coast town of Skagway on its run inland of one hundred and ten miles. There had been much bustle and excitement ever since the steamer landed early that morning. But now everything was in readiness, the signal had been given, and the train began to move.
Reynolds was comfortably seated and looking out of the open window, when Frontier Samson came and sat down by his side. The old prospector was much out of breath and panting heavily.
"I nearly missed the train," he explained. "She was movin' when I swung on board."
"Sight-seeing, eh?" Reynolds queried.
"That's about it, I guess. Watchin' a mix-up, an' gittin' Curly out of a scrape. That's what delayed me."
"What was the trouble?"
"Oh, the same old story. Curly kin never mind his own bizness. He's allus pokin' his nose into other people's affairs. He's too sassy."
"Where is he now?"
"In the smoker. I had to drag him along with me, an' that's what made me late."
"Why