"In de middle of snow-storm? Dis tam de night? No. Dey makin' run for de Line an' it's goin' tak' fas' team for pull 'em down."
"Well, I've got the best dogs in town."
Rock's caller smiled. "M'sieu', dey goin' travel some if dey keep in sight of me."
"YOU?" Rock straightened himself. "Will you go along? Jove! I'd like that!" he cried, heartily. "I've heard you own a lively bunch of mutts."
"I give you tas'e of Injun travel. Better you dress light an' buckle up dat belt, for I got reason to fin' out who keel Courteau. I ain't goin' sleep no more till I know."
The officer smiled as he declared: "That suits me exactly. We may not catch them, but—they'll know they've been in a race before they thumb their noses at us from across the Boundary. Now see how fast you can harness up."
It was considerably after midnight when 'Poleon swung his dog-team into the lighted space in front of the Rialto; nevertheless, many people were about, for Dawson was a city of sleep-haters. The sight of a racing-team equipped for a flying trip at this hour of the night evoked instant interest and speculation, pointing, as it did, to a new gold discovery and a stampede. Stampedes were frequent, they never failed to create a sensation, therefore the woodsman was soon the center of an inquisitive crowd. Not until he had fully explained the nature of his business was suspicion allayed; then his word that Joe and Frank McCaskey had fled for the Boundary ran up and down the street and caused even greater excitement.
Rouletta came hurrying forth with the others, and to her 'Poleon made known his intention of accompanying the fleet-footed Rock.
"Nobody is able to catch dem feller but him an' me," he explained. "Dey got too long start."
"You think they may get across?" she queried, apprehensively.