Part 33 (2/2)

”Unless I'm a bad prophet you'll get the answer you want when she comes back, Colby.”

He thought her reply to his indiscretion superb. It admitted complicity, reproached, warned, and at the same time ignored. Never before had she called him by his given name. He took it as a token of forgiveness and renunciation.

Why was it not Genevieve Mallory that he wanted to marry? It would be the wise thing to do. She would ask nothing of him that he could not give, and she would bring to him many things that he wanted. But he was under the spell of Sheba's innocence, of the mystery of her youth, of the charm she had brought with her from the land of fairies and banshees. The reasonable course made just now not enough appeal to him.

He craved the rapture of an impossible adventure into a world wonderful.

The mine-owner carried with him back to his office a sense of the futile irony of life. A score of men would have liked to marry Mrs. Mallory.

She had all the sophisticated graces of life and much of the natural charm of an unusually attractive personality. He had only to speak the word to win her, and his fancy had flown in pursuit of a little Puritan with no knowledge of the world.

In front of the Seattle & Kusiak Emporium the Scotchman stopped. A little man who had his back to him was bargaining for a team of huskies.

The man turned, and Macdonald recognized him.

”h.e.l.lo, Gid. Aren't you off your usual beat a bit?” he asked.

The little miner looked him over impudently. ”Well--well! If it ain't the Big Mogul himself--and wantin' to know if I've got permission to travel off the reservation.”

Macdonald laughed tolerantly. He had that large poise which is not disturbed by the sand stings of life.

”I reckon you travel where you want to, Gid,--same as I do.”

”Maybeso. I shouldn't wonder if you'd find out quite soon enough what I'm doing here. You never can tell,” the old man retorted with a manner that concealed volumes.

Those who were present remembered the words and in the light of what took place later thought them significant.

”Anyhow, it is quite a social event for Kusiak,” Macdonald suggested with a smile of irony.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SITUATION AT LEAST WAS PIQUANT, EVEN THOUGH IT WAS AT HER EXPENSE]

Without more words Holt turned back to his bargaining. The big Scotchman went on his way, remembered that he wanted to see the cas.h.i.+er of the bank which he controlled, and promptly forgot that old Gid existed.

The old man concluded his purchase and drove up to the hotel behind one of the best dog teams in Alaska. He had paid one hundred dollars down and was to settle the balance next day.

Gideon asked a question of the porter.

”Second floor. That's his room up there,” the man answered, pointing to a window.

”Oh, you, seven--eighteen--ninety-nine,” the little miner shouted up.

Elliot appeared at the window. ”Well, I'll be hanged! What are you doing here, Old-Timer?”

”Onct I knew a man lived to be a grandpa minding his own business,”

grinned the little man. ”Come down and I'll tell you all about it, boy.”

In half a minute Gordon was beside him. After the first greetings the young man nodded toward the dog team.

<script>