The other waived the suggestion.
“Sour-belly’s pretty good tack when y’ can’t get any better. Been many days on the road?”
“Three weeks.” The traveller was conscious of three pairs of eyes fixed upon his face.
“Hoofing right along?”
“Yes. I missed the trail nearly a week back. 10 Followed the track of a dog-train. It came some distance this way. Then I lost it.”
“Ah! Food ran out, maybe.”
The half-breed had now turned away, and was gazing at the stove as though it had a great fascination for him.
“Yes, I meant to make the Pass where I could lay in a fresh store. Instead of that I wandered on till I found the empty pack got too heavy, then I left it.”
“Left it?” The half-breed raised his two little tufts of eyebrows, but his eyes remained staring at the stove.
“Oh, it was empty––clean empty. You see, I didn’t trust anything but food in my pack.”