“Indeed you would not,” said Dallas warmly. “No gold would have bought him.”
The dog was laid down by the fire, but Tregelly shook his head.
“Might as well save his skin, youngsters; but you’ll have to thaw him first.”
“Is he dead?” asked Abel feebly.
“No doubt about that,” replied Tregelly. “It’s a pity, too, for he was a good dog. Those Eskimo, as a rule, are horrid brutes, eating up everything, even to their harness; but this one was something. I’d come up to bring Mr Wray here half one o’ my hams, but you won’t want it now.”
“No,” said Dallas; “and I can send you back loaded, and be out of debt.”
“Well, I can’t say what I lent you won’t be welcome. My word, though, you brought a good load.”
“Set to and play cook,” said Dallas, “while I tidy up. I’m sure you could eat some breakfast, and I’m starving.”
“So am I,” cried their visitor, laughing. “Beginning to feel better, master?” he added, turning to Abel.
“Yes; only I’m so stiff, and my throat is so painful.”