The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1937-04-29
CHAPTER IV-Continued

all they want" said Joe. 1.-THE real
COLDS somewhere else. The Big
Moose didn't always ride along over
against those mountains. 1t trav-
eled over here somewhere-and
here's where we'll find the bonan-
"a"
big as hens eggs!" Hammond
laughed.
make it a goose; it's just as
easy"
They returned to work, finally, to
clean out the pit. 1t was a test
job-the first of dozens, maybe a
hundred, which they knew they
must sink in their search for an
age-old river bed, long covered by
the overburden of erosion. At last,
with the moosehide bucket raised,
they started back toward "town."
The days were growing longer.
Spring already had arrived in eli
mates farther south; summer was
on the way. But up here, every
thing remained under burden of
white. Hammond glanced far to
the right.
Zone less moose" he said.
There's Olson with a supply of
meat! The pack that man can car
ry!"
They watched him angle across
the drifts toward the main trail, his
rife dragging, the hind quarters of
an Alaskan moose on his back.
''Think I'll go beg some of that"
Mckenzie Joe said. "The way those
wild men are coming into this coun-
try, there won't be a lot of game
left"
Get an extra piece, will your"
"Sure. For that girl?" Mckenzie
Joe started away. "Guess you're
right-guess she's just like the rest
of us-tired of her own grub and
fed up with the stuff they hand out
at the Slumgullion."
Soon Mckenzie Joe, two great
hunks of moose meat freezing in
his grasp, halted beside his part
ner.
"Well, here's the meat and there's
the last of the snow burners" he
said. Sergeant Terry came along
with 'em. Break-up's hit below.
Wet snow most of the way until
the last forty or fifty miles"
Hammond took the unwrapped
meat and started away. His course
led through a maze of tents, dog
hutches, dirty snow piles, hastily
shoveled away to reveal the founda-
ton for a moss-chinked cabin or
shacks and uprights of new build
ings, the latter an output from a
portable sawmill brought in over
the snow. At last, he sighted a tiny
log cabin; he and Joe had built it
for Jeanne Towers. Then he saw
the girl.
She broke from the door at his
approach, running, almost sprawl
ing over the crusted snow. She
cried out; Hammond saw that she
waved something in one hand. In
the doorway behind her was framed
the bulky figure of man. On
came the girl; she stumbled,
Strengthened, and continued to run.
1--WE got two hundred dollars!"
she cried out. 1--WE got two hun
dred dollars!"
She was Transformed; almost
childish in her excitement. There
were tears on her cheeks.
1--WE got two hundred dollarsi"
came again, as she reached him. 81
can begin to pay you back" Ham
mond stared down at the money in
her hand. ooh, it isn't counterfeit.
It's all good money - see - it's
real.
He caught her by the arm, laugh
ing.
"Of course, Jeanne. But where
did you get it?"
GIVE sold my claim. You told
me it wasn't any good. But I got
two hundred dollars for it-see it"
she waved the money again. Then
turning, as the stranger came to
them from the doorway, Here's
the man"
The sentence was cut short. Ham
mond had said:
"You look like someone I met In
Seattle"
"And you look like-why, you're
Hammond, aren't you? My names
Bruce Kenning."
eyes, I remember" For al In
slant Hammond travelled far away,
back to the dock in Seattle, with the
sun throwing its morning CLEAN on
smooth waters, with Kay in his
arms
'You didn't happen to bring me a
letter-or anything?"
Kenning laughed. He was sure
appearing man, muscular, at home
in breeks and boots, just as he had
been at home in dinner clothes.