"Too bad," Britton mused. "Pierre's worth three ordinary men en route. Many's the mile we've paddled, and many's the moose we've missed. Bon camarade is Giraud, if there was ever one."
"I saw him beat two blaggards on the stampede into Nome," Laurance began reminiscently. "The guys started in to argue the right of way with Pierre. Weighty beggars they was, too, but Giraud put 'em both out of action in ten seconds. Shiftiest man on the route, less it's yourself, Britton."
Rex shook his head as disclaiming the honor. Outside a shrill howl broke the night silence and started a hundred echoes. Rex lifted his head sharply.
"What's the matter with the husky?" he asked. "The moon's not up."
"Someone's coming," Laurance answered, listening intently to a musical sound.
The faint tinkle of bells grew clearer. The rushing sound of a laden dog-train made the cabin walls vibrate.
"Arrêtes!" commanded a leonine voice in the yard, and the noise died suddenly.
"It's Pierre," cried Laurance, jumping to his feet.
CHAPTER IX.
The door was kicked open without ceremony, and Pierre's head popped in.