"It was good of you," spoke the armful, "to send Mr. Devereaux with fresh
dogs after me, else I would not have been in till to-morrow."
The man looked blankly across at Freda, then the light breaking in upon
him, "And wasn't it good of Devereaux to go?"
"Couldn't wait a bit longer, could you, dear?" Flossie snuggled closer.
"Well, I was getting sort of impatient," he confessed glibly, at the same
time drawing her up till her feet left the floor, and getting outside the
door.
That same night an inexplicable thing happened to the Reverend James
Brown, missionary, who lived among the natives several miles down the
Yukon and saw to it that the trails they trod led to the white man's
paradise. He was roused from his sleep by a strange Indian, who gave
into his charge not only the soul but the body of a woman, and having
done this drove quickly away. This woman was heavy, and handsome, and
angry, and in her wrath unclean words fell from her mouth. This shocked
the worthy man, but he was yet young and her presence would have been
pernicious (in the simple eyes of his flock), had she not struck out on
foot for Dawson with the first gray of dawn.
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