"Hey, where you goin'?" wailed the man on the bunk.
"I'm going out and tend to my dogs," answered the boy.
"Build a fire first, an' cook me some grub! I ain't had nothin' since yesterday."
"After the dogs," said Connie as he banged the door behind him.
"Le's mush," said 'Merican Joe, when they returned to the dogs.
Connie grinned. "No, we can't do that. I've seen some pretty raw chechakos, but never one like him. If we pulled out they'd probably both die."
'Merican Joe gave an expressive shrug. "S'pose we ain't got no grub. He ain' care we die."
"No, but we're men, and he——"
"He ain' so good lak Injun dog," interrupted 'Merican Joe.