"Kobuk, go fetch Pete Mateese. An' don't let Misteh Squigg know yo' fetchin' him." The Indian arose and passed noiselessly out into the night. A quarter of an hour later he returned, closely followed by a huge half-breed with mild, ox-like eyes, who smiled broadly upon the assembly.
"Heem Pete Mateese," grunted the Indian, and sank again to his blanket. Waseche Bill regarded the big, simple-minded half-breed intently, and then flashed the question:
"Wheah is Carlson?" Instantly the smile faded from the man's face and a look of deep sorrow darkened his eyes.
"Lillimuit," he answered, sadly. "On Ignatook he dig for de gol'." The half-breed looked about him upon the faces of the men who wondered what it was all about.
"Go on," encouraged Waseche, "tell more."
"De Ignatook, she don' freeze—she wa'm. De white Injun, she don' go dare—she 'fraid. We go dare, me an' Carlson, she ma pardner, an' she say de gol' ees here. Bimby, de grub git low an' Carlson sen' me for more. Dat two winter ago. I tak' de gol' een one can an' I mak' eet t'rough to Eagle by Tatonduk divide. Den I see Meestaire Squeeg. He say he tak' de gol' an' buy de grub so I not git cheat. Den she los' de gol'. She ver' sorry, an' she say y'u com' work for me, fi' dollaire a day an' grub, an' pret' soon y'u mak' 'nough to go back to y'u pardner. Meestaire Squeeg, she buy my dog—feefty dollaire apiece—four hunder' dollaire—an' she say she keep de money so I no los'—I no git cheat. An' she say de money she hav' eentrees', ten p'cent. So me, I go 'long an' work for heem an' we clean oop good on Turtle Creek. Den we com' Ten Bow an' Meestaire Squeeg, she buy de claim, an' I say I lak de money now, I got 'nough. I tak' de grub to Carlson. But Meestaire Squeeg she say, no, y'u ain't got no money—de eentrees' she eat dat money all oop. She count oop fas', ten p'cent, she say. So I work som' more, but all de tam de eentrees' she eat me oop. Eef eet ain't for de eentrees' I mak' 'nough to tak' de grub to Carlson."
The big men and the one small boy in the little cabin listened intently to the half-breed's simply told tale. When he finished Waseche Bill cleared his throat and glanced from one to the other of the silent listeners.
