CHAPTER IX

THE VISITORS

"Do you think it quite fair to make one little brute fight seven big huskies, worked until they are as hard as iron, Major?"

"He's got to do it or die," said the Major. The Kid, however, seemed to have lost all interest in the dog fight. "Remember that murder up on the Stewart when some one did up Old Joe and made off with the whole of the gold dust that the old man had cleared up? Remember it, Major?"

"I don't exactly remember it," said the Major, uneasily.

"'Course you remember it," said the Kid softly. "I met you just south of the Stewart and you were driving as though the devil was after you. Queer, ain't it?" he continued, "that the police could not find out who the murderer was, while I knew in less than a week. Strange tales from the Indians reached my ears and one of them brought me a lot of things he had found around the cabin before the mounted police came. There was a mitten, an empty 45-50 shell, and a handkerchief with a man's name on it, and, well, there were a lot of other things. But what's the use of bringing up old scores. Joe was so mean that the poison in his heart would have killed him pretty soon anyway. Look here," he said abruptly. "I reckon this dog fight has gone about far enough. That white bull is dead game, but he can't go another battle."

"You want the fight called off?" the Major asked with head bent.

"I reckon that's about it," said the Kid cheerfully, "and you might as well untie that youngster's hands and feet. It ain't no ways comfortable for a boy to be trussed up that way."

"All right," said the Major listlessly, and he walked over to the referee and spoke a few words.

"All right," the referee replied sullenly, "you're the boss. Match declared off for personal reasons," he shouted to the crowd outside. "All bets on this fight declared off." There was an angry murmur from the crowd outside. The Kid slashed away Case's bindings. "Bring your dog and keep close to me. There's no telling how that crowd will act. There are some bad men amongst them." A hundred men surrounded them with angry threats as they broke out of the circle. The Kid took Captain Joe and held him up to the view of the crowd. "Here's a poor, little four-legged American citizen," he said. "He's game, if he is a chekako. He's killed three of your trail-hardened huskies. That ought to be enough, but now you want him to tackle four more. Is that a square deal? Is that the American spirit of fair play?"

"You Americans are always boasting about what you do," sneered an Englishman. "Why, that dog isn't an American. It's an English bull dog."

"I will admit his ancestors came from England and that he has inherited his awful looking mug from them, but he isn't to blame for that. He's got the true American spirit."

The Americans in the crowd laughed at the Kid's retort, and one of them shouted: "Hurrah for the stars and stripes."

"You blooming braggers," shouted the Englishman. "You'll never stand straight up and fight fair with odds even."

"We, as a nation, never get the chance," retorted the Kid. "We always have had to give odds of five to one at least. Remember the wars of 1776 and 1812?"

The cheering over the Englishman's discomfiture rose uproariously until a big Swede stilled it by raising up his brawny arms above the crowd as a signal for silence.

"Ay tank day United States ban all right. Ay tank day American dog with the ugly face ban all right too. How you all like to fight four more mens after you already lick three? Ay tank we better let the dog and boys go."

The air rang with applause from the now good-natured crowd. "Let 'em go," shouted a hundred voices, and the two boys worked their way through the ropes into the open once more, followed by the Yukon Kid.

Once distant from the circle of tents, the Kid stopped. "I guess you can find the boat all right," he said. "I'm going to take a short cut home. I've traveled fifty miles today and only eaten one meal. I'll rest a bit and then get something to eat."

"I wish you would take your rest and then come down to the boat and have supper with us," Clay said earnestly. "We have got a lot of dainties, and we brought up loads of books and magazines."

"I'll go you," said the Kid boyishly. "I have been living on bacon and beans all winter--and magazines and books! Have you really got them? I had almost forgotten that there were such things in the world. Why, I got hold of a New York paper last winter and I read it and read it until I wore it out. Sure, I'll be down just as soon as I can catch a couple of hours' rest. So long, boys, till supper."

Clay and Case made their way down to the Rambler without any difficulty. The ancient mariner was still sitting on the post, watching, with delight, Ike and Alex pouring pail after pail of water on Teddy Bear, who, up in the prow in the sunshine, was snoring loudly. The only effect the water seemed to have upon him was to make him roll over on the other side and resume his loud snoring.

The veteran prospector beckoned to Clay to approach him. "Say," he said in a hoarse whisper. "There's been strange goings on in your boat since you left. I never expected to see anything like it around here. Just after you left, two men came down the dock and went aboard your boat. I didn't take much notice of them, 'cause the latch string is always hangin' out in the North and I could see that they were sour dough boys and reckoned they were some friends of yours. But they staid down in the cabin so long that I made up my mind that I'd step down and tell 'em that you-alls wouldn't be back for a couple of hours. Soon as I peeked into the cabin, I saw what they was up to. There they was with all the lockers pulled out looking through your things and throwing your clothes out on the floor. One of them was just putting a battered silver watch in his pocket. I got a bead on him with my old 44 and let out a yell. He dropped the watch like it was red hot. I marched 'em out of the cabin and up on the dock. Then I says to 'em, 'Hike for shore and don't be long getting there, for my fingers are getting shaky with old age and might press the trigger too hard, any minute.'"

"Did they run?" questioned Clay, with a grin.

"I could not have caught them if I had been forty years younger, and, believe me, I used to be some runner," said the old prospector with open admiration at the speed the two fugitives had displayed. "But the further they got the madder I got to thinking old sour doughs would act meaner than a chekako. One of them was marked with a red scar across one cheek, and, just as they made the shore, I decided I'd mark the other one so I'd be sure to know him the next time I saw him."

"Did you hit him?" asked Clay, still grinning.

"I reckon I'm getting an old fellow. I aimed for the lobe of his ear and only just nicked it."

"We're mighty grateful to you for defending our property," Clay said. "Stay and have supper with us," he urged. "We are fixing to have quite a spread."

"No, thankee," refused the old man. "I've got a pot of bacon and beans cooked up down at my cabin. I've eaten them and pertatoes and now and then a piece of moose meat for forty years, and I've got so a meal don't taste right without 'em."

"We have got beans, plenty of them," urged Clay.

"I know the kind," said the man, scornfully. "Come in a can with a little slice of bacon on top that you can see through, it's so thin, and the beans below 'em are so weak and pale that they always color 'em up with tomato juice to make 'em look healthy and deceive you. No, no such kind of beans for me; just the raw kind. Put 'em in a pot with at least a third of their bulk in sizable cubes of bacon. Then fill the pot plumb full of water and sit on the fire to simmer. When they are done you have got beans what is beans. Come right handy on the trail in winter, too. You can freeze them into sticks an' pack 'em on your sled an' when you want to cook dinner, just chop off as much as you want and thaw it out in the frying pan. Well, good-night. Reckon I'll see you afore you leave."

Clay turned back to his friends, a gentle smile on his lips, for the quaint, honest Old Timer. He found his three companions washing and doing up Captain Joe's numerous wounds, while the dog licked their hands in dumb gratitude.

"It does not need all three of you to fix up Captain Joe," he observed. "Someone got into our cabin while we were gone and messed up things a good bit, though I don't believe they got away with anything. I should like Ike to put things back in their place. All I can see that he's doing is to look at Captain Joe's teeth to see if there are any gold fillings. When you get through with Joe, both of you come up and help me for we are going to have the biggest feast we ever have had in the _Rambler_, tonight. We are going to have a visitor to supper."

"Who?" Alex asked, smearing ointment over one of Captain Joe's wounds while Case applied a clean white bandage to another.

"The Yukon Kid," said Clay. "I invited him down and he accepted."

"Hurrah," shouted all three boys, and Ike added thoughtfully: "That Kid, he knows a lot about the country; you understand, maybe he can tell us where there be more miners what like to give away souvenirs."

Ike's face went deathly pale when he caught sight of the scattered things that littered the cabin. He rushed to the pile near his bunk and pawed it out pantingly. The battered old silver watch lay near the pile and Ike pounced on it with delight. "I don't care so much about the rest, but this my uncle gave me. I wish I had a good safe place to put it."

"We fixed up a safe place to put our valuables while we had spare time this winter. Come here and I'll show it to you." Clay lifted up a square of flooring right behind the stove, disclosing a cavity about a foot square and the same in depth, the whole carefully lined with moisture-proof oil cloth. "That's a mighty good place," said Ike with satisfaction. "Soon's I get time, you understand, I wraps up my watch, that nugget, and them bills I've got in the seat of my pants and put them here." Clay replaced the bit of flooring. It fitted so carefully that the cracks could only be discovered with a close scrutiny. "We always put a couple of old sacks or an old piece of carpet over it and Captain Joe sleeps there most of the time, so you see there is but little chance of its being discovered. By the way, one of the chaps that raided the _Rambler_ had a red scar on his face, and the other one had a face that would hang him without a trial."

Ike's face grew downcast. "Dem must have been them two low-lifes that tried to rob me in Chicago. I wonder how they gets here. They had no money."

"I guess I know how they managed it," said Clay, thoughtfully. "I'll show you something when I get the time. We have talked too long now. Let's get to work."

Ike with deft fingers folded and replaced the scattered things in their lockers, while Clay started a fire in the stove and began preparations for the grand feast. He was soon joined by Case and Alex followed by Captain Joe. Alex was grinning. "You had ought to have seen Captain Joe," he said, "the minute we turned him loose: he made for Teddy Bear, I guess, to tell him his trouble and gain a little sympathy. He looked puzzled when he found he could not rouse him. He walked all around him sniffing until he got to Teddy's head, then he caught a good smell of Teddy's breath. He turned away and came with us with such a comical look of disgust on his face, that it would have made you laugh.

Captain Joe lay down behind the stove on the secret hiding place, while Case and Alex hastened to Clay's assistance. The boys had brought along with them a small stock of dainties with which to help celebrate on special days, and this they broke into with rude hands. Soon the table, covered with a white cloth, was laden with cream cheese, jars of preserves, jellies, a fruity fruit cake, jams, and even a jar of anchovy paste. A plate heaped with nuts, figs and raisins, stood in the middle, while at each individual plate was one each of their precious stock of oranges and apples.

Over the stove Clay labored, steaming sausages and frying canned beefsteak with onions, while big, mealy potatoes already cooked were placed on the back corner of the stove to keep warm.

"He's coming now," said Alex, as a light, vigorous step rang on the dock, and a moment later the Kid's cheery face appeared in the cabin door. He looked more like a man who had slept fifty hours and traveled two miles, than like one who had just traveled fifty miles and slept two hours. His brief rest had removed all weariness from his face.

His keen eyes swept from the boys to the laden table. "Gee! boys," he said, boyishly. "This isn't a supper. It's a banquet, and me here without my dress suit on."

##