you’ve seen the dogs romping in harness till the sled runners ring; and the distant mountain-ranges come out like beautiful carvings, so close you can reach them—­well, there’s something in it that brings you back—­that’s all, no matter where you’ve lost yourself.  It means health and equality and unrestraint.  That’s what I like best, I dare say—­the utter unrestraint.

“When I was a school-boy, I used to gaze at the map of Alaska for hours.  I’d lose myself in it.  It wasn’t anything but a big, blank corner in the North then, with a name, and mountains, and mystery.  The word ‘Yukon’ suggested to me everything unknown and weird—­ hairy mastodons, golden river bars, savage Indians with bone arrow-heads and seal-skin trousers.  When I left college I came as fast as ever I could—­the adventure, I suppose....

“The law was considered my destiny.  How the shades of old Choate and Webster and Patrick Henry must have wailed when I forswore it.  I’ll bet Blackstone tore his whiskers.”

“I think you would have made a success,” said the girl, but he laughed.

“Well, anyhow, I stepped out, leaving the way to the United States Supreme bench unobstructed, and came North.  I found it was where I belonged.  I fitted in.  I’m not contented—­don’t think that.  I’m ambitious, but I prefer these surroundings to the others—­that’s all.  I’m realizing my desires.  I’ve made a fortune—­now I’ll see what else the world has.”

He suddenly turned to her.  “See here,” he abruptly questioned, “what’s your name?”

She started, and glanced towards where Dextry had stood, only to find that the old frontiersman had slipped away during the tale.

“Helen Chester,” she replied.

“Helen Chester,” he repeated, musingly.  “What a pretty name!  It seems almost a pity to change it—­to marry, as you will.”

“I am not going to Nome to get married.”

He glanced at her quickly.

“Then you won’t like this country.  You are two years too early; you ought to wait till there are railroads and telephones, and tables d’hote, and chaperons.  It’s a man’s country yet.”

“I don’t see why it isn’t a woman’s country, too.  Surely we can take a part in taming it.  Yonder on the Oregon is a complete railroad, which will be running from the coast to the mines in a few weeks.  Another ship back there has the wire and poles and fixings for a telephone system, which will go up in a night.  As to tables d’hote, I saw a real French count in Seattle with a monocle.  He’s bringing in a restaurant outfit, imported snails, and pate de joies gras.  All that’s wanting is the chaperon.  In my flight from the Ohio I left mine.  The sailors caught her.  You see I am not far ahead of schedule.”

“What part are you going to take in this taming process?” he asked.

She paused long before replying, and when she did her answer sounded like a jest.

“I herald the coming of the law,” she said.