And Dugan? He worked, too, and his eyes glistened at the size of his clean-ups. He filled one poke, then another, and still another as time went on. But Dugan would never be satisfied with what was his own. He went over to Holliday’s cabin now and then, and listened while Holliday told him excitedly of the miracle that would happen. He was going Outside! In a little while longer. He would see the girl.
He told the whole course of his progress to the man who had murdered his friend, while Cheechako sat between his feet and regarded Dugan speculatively. Cheechako could not understand why Dugan so consistently ignored him. It seemed illogical to the dog, because he remembered that in this same cabin——
And at last Holliday came back from the cradle, singing at the top of his voice.
Cheechako had caught some of his festive spirit and danced clumsily about him. Dugan was sitting on the bench before the cabin and his eyelids flickered when Holliday came into view.
“I’m through!” shouted Holliday, at sight of his visitor. “Dugan, I’m through! I’m going down-river in the morning with a fat poke in my pack to see the most wonderful girl in the world!”
Dugan grinned. He had been at the cabin for some little time, and there was a surprise he had prepared for Holliday inside. It was the same surprise he had prepared for Carson.
“I’m going down tomorrow myself,” he said. “Closed up my shack and quit my workings.”
“We’ll celebrate,” said Holliday exuberantly. “Man! I’m going Outside to the most wonderful——”
Cheechako sniffed the air in the cabin. Dugan did not smell normally human. He smelled as if he were afraid. And yet he was grinning and cracking jokes as if he shared in Holliday’s uproarious happiness.