to smoke?  Don’t you see?  All worked out, every bit of it, all parts fitting snug.  Before I was born, like as not.  I’ll put the sack I never hope to get on it, before I was born.  That’s why!  That’s why John Randolph passed the word and his checks in at the same time.  Damn him!  It served him well right!  Why didn’t he keep his tongue between his teeth and give me a chance?  He knew I was next to broke.  Why didn’t I hold my hand?  Oh, why?  Why?  Why?”

And Fortune La Pearle would roll upon the floor, vainly interrogating the scheme of things.  At such outbreaks Uri said no word, gave no sign, save that his grey eyes seemed to turn dull and muddy, as though from lack of interest.  There was nothing in common between these two men, and this fact Fortune grasped sufficiently to wonder sometimes why Uri had stood by him.

But the time of waiting came to an end.  Even a community’s blood lust cannot stand before its gold lust.  The murder of John Randolph had already passed into the annals of the camp, and there it rested.  Had the murderer appeared, the men of Nome would certainly have stopped stampeding long enough to see justice done, whereas the whereabouts of Fortune La Pearle was no longer an insistent problem.  There was gold in the creek beds and ruby beaches, and when the sea opened, the men with healthy sacks would sail away to where the good things of life were sold absurdly cheap.

So, one night, Fortune helped Uri Bram harness the dogs and lash the sled, and the twain took the winter trail south on the ice.  But it was not all south; for they left the sea east from St. Michael’s, crossed the divide, and struck the Yukon at Anvik, many hundred miles from its mouth.  Then on, into the northeast, past Koyokuk, Tanana, and Minook, till they rounded the Great Curve at Fort Yukon, crossed and recrossed the Arctic Circle, and headed south through the Flats.  It was a weary journey, and Fortune would have wondered why the man went with him, had not Uri told him that he owned claims and had men working at Eagle.  Eagle lay on the edge of the line; a few miles farther on, the British flag waved over the barracks at Fort Cudahy.  Then came Dawson, Pelly, the Five Fingers, Windy Arm, Caribou Crossing, Linderman, the Chilcoot and Dyea.

On the morning after passing Eagle, they rose early.  This was their last camp, and they were now to part.  Fortune’s heart was light.  There was a promise of spring in the land, and the days were growing longer.  The way was passing into Canadian territory.  Liberty was at hand, the sun was returning, and each day saw him nearer to the Great Outside.  The world was big, and he could once again paint his future in royal red.  He whistled about the breakfast and hummed snatches of light song while Uri put the dogs in harness and packed up.  But when all was ready, Fortune’s feet itching to be off, Uri pulled an unused back-log to the fire and sat down.