"No."
Rod turned his back upon the scene and began to take off his coat as coolly as though it were the commonest thing in the world for him to bring silver foxes into camp. Only when Wabi gave a suppressed yell did he turn about, and then he found the Indian standing erect and holding out the silver to the astonished gaze of Mukoki.
"Is it a good one?" he asked.
"A beauty!" gasped Wabi.
Mukoki had taken the animal and was examining it with the critical eyes of a connoisseur.
"Ver' fine!" he said. "At Post heem worth fi' hundred dollars—at Montreal t'ree hundred more!"
Wabi strode across the cabin and thrust out his hand.
"Shake, Rod!"
As the two gripped hands he turned to Mukoki.
"Bear witness, Mukoki, that this young gentleman is no longer a tenderfoot. He has shot a silver fox. He has done a whole winter's work in one day. I take off my hat to you, Mr. Drew!"