“It’s the old Topeka back again. She’s early 271 this season, which is fortunate, for we’re badly in need of that consignment. ’Chips’ will have to get up to Dawson to-morrow and bring the stuff back. Maybe the piano is aboard.”
“Was it wise to get the piano, when we are leaving next fall?”
“We can sell it—at a profit, too.... What’s that?”
“That” was a sharp rap on the outer door. It was repeated again in a few seconds. Callers were unusual at that time of the day, but all callers were welcome enough in Alaska. Natalie ran out and unbarred the door. In the dim light she saw the figure of a big man supporting a woman, who was obviously on the verge of utter collapse.
“Why, vat is it?” she ejaculated in her broken English.
“It’s all that’s left of us,” growled a voice. “I guess we’re nearly beat.”
He staggered, and Natalie ran to the mute figure of Angela. “Father, father!” she cried.
Devinne appeared in a second, and took in the situation at a glance. While Jim relinquished 272 Angela to the excited Natalie, Devinne took him by the arm and led him into the sitting-room.
“It’s good fortune that led you here. How long have you been without food?”
“Two days.”