The man swept himself free of the débris and started to run. Instantly he pulled up in his stride, as amazed to see those in the car as they were to see him.
Out of the house poured a rush of men. They too pulled up abruptly at sight of Macdonald and his guests.
A sardonic mirth gleamed in the eyes of the Scotchman. "Do you always come out of a house through the wall, Mr. Elliot?" he asked.
"Only when I'm in a hurry." Gordon pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at some glass-cuts on his face.
"Don't let us detain you," said the Alaskan satirically. "We'll excuse you, since you must go."
"I'm not in such a hurry now. In fact, if you're going to Kusiak, I think I'll ask you for a lift," returned the field agent coolly.
"And your friends-in-a-hurry--do they want a lift too?"
Big Bill Macy came swaying forward, both hands to his bleeding head. "He's a spy, curse him. And he tried to kill me."
"Did he?" commented Macdonald evenly. "What were you doing to him?"
"He can't sneak around our claim under a false name," growled one of the miners. "We'll beat his damn head off."
"I've had notions like that myself sometimes," assented the big Scotchman. "But I think we had all better leave Mr. Elliot to the law. He has Uncle Sam back of him in his spying, and none of us are big enough to buck the Government." Crisply Macdonald spoke to Gordon, turning upon him cold, hostile eyes. "Get in if you're going to."
Elliot met him eye to eye. "I've changed my mind. I'm going to walk."
Gordon shook hands with Diane and Sheba, went into the house for his coat, and walked to the stable. He brought out his horse and turned it loose, then took the road himself for Kusiak.
A couple of miles out the car passed him trudging townward. As they flashed down the road he waved a cheerful and nonchalant greeting.
Sheba had been full of gayety and life, but her mood was changed. All the way home she was strangely silent.
The days grew short. In sporting circles the talk was no longer of the midnight Fourth of July baseball game, but of preparation for the Alaska Sweepstakes, since the shadow of the cold Arctic winter had crept down to the Yukon and touched its waters to stillness. Men, gathered around warm stoves, spoke of the merits of huskies and Siberian wolf-hounds, of the heavy fall of snow in the hills, of the overhauling of outfits and the transportation of supplies to distant camps.