“No smoke,” she murmured.
“Yes, one smoke,” Attatak said, pointing.
It was true. From one long cabin there curled a white wreath of smoke.
For a moment Marian hesitated. No dogs had come out to bark, yet they might be there.
“You stay with the deer,” she said to Attatak. “Tether them strongly to the sleds. If dogs come, beat them off.”
She was away like an arrow. Straight to that cabin of the one smoke she hurried. She caught her breath as she saw a splendid team of dogs standing at the door. Someone was going on a trip. The sled was loaded for the journey. Was it the Agent’s sled? Had she arrived in time?
She did not have long to wait before knowing. She had come within ten feet of the cabin when a tall, deep-chested man opened the door and stepped out. She caught her breath. Instantly she knew him. It was the Agent.
He, in turn, recognized her, and with cap in hand and astonishment showing in his eyes, he advanced to meet her.
“You here!” he exclaimed. “Why Marian Norton, you belong in Nome.”
“Once I did,” she smiled, “but now I belong on the tundra with our herd. It is the herd that has brought me here. May I speak to you about it?”