"When they do," smiled Dillon. "Yes, it's the old Russian Post Trail, I believe. South of Kadiak Island the sea is said to be open as early as the first of March. We'll get a steamer to Sitka, and from Sitka, of course, the boats run regular."
"Seattle by the middle of March!" says the General. "Come along, Dillon; the sooner you get to Seattle, and blow in a couple o' hundred thousand, the sooner you'll get back to Minóok."
Dillon went out and roused up the dogs, asleep in the snow, with their bushy tails sheltering their sharp noses.
"See you later?"
"Yes, 'outside.'"
"Outside? No, sir! Inside."
Dillon swore a blood-curdling string of curses and cracked his whip over the leader.
"Why, you comin' back?"
"Bet your life!"
And nobody who looked at the face of the Yukon pioneer could doubt he meant what he said.