"But look at the country we'd see! And the fun we'd have!"
"Ain't they country enough to see here in Alaska? An' as fer fun—some folks idee of humour gits me! Who ever heard of anyone goin' 'leven hundred miles into nowheres for to have fun? I tell you, son, I've know'd stampedes to start on mighty slim information, but never as slim as what you've got. I read your book, an' all them old parties had to go on was the stories of some Injuns—an' the whole mess of 'em's be'n dead most two hundred years! An' I think the book's a fake, anyhow—'cause I don't believe gold's been invented that long! No, sir, take it from me, it's the dog-gonedest wild goose chase ever undertook by anyone—but, at that—if it wasn't for this game laig of mine, I b'lieve I'd go 'long!"
After dinner Connie started to overhaul his trail outfit while Waseche looked on. After a while the man rose, and put on his mackinaw.
"I've got to go back to the office," he said. "Me an' Roarin' Mike O'Reilly has got to tackle that mail."
Connie shot his big partner a long, sidewise glance. "He must be some rough bird to earn a name like that over on the Tanana."
"Rough as pig iron," answered Waseche solemnly. "He eats 'em alive, Roarin' does."
"What—pancakes?"
"Yup—pancakes, an' grizzlies. Roarin' Mike, he takes 'em as they come. Didn't you see him lay holt of your wolf-dog?"
"Yes," answered the boy, as solemn as an owl. "And I don't like folks to be so rough with Leloo."