in him fawned to the lash.
“That is to say, ah, afterward. To-morrow, Mrs. Eppingwell; yes,
to-morrow. That is what I meant.” He solaced himself with the
fact, should he remain, that more embarrassment awaited. Also, he
had an engagement which he must keep shortly, down by the water-
hole off the hospital. Ye gods! he had never given Freda credit!
Wasn’t she magnificent!
“I’ll thank you for my mask, Mrs. McFee.”
That lady, for the nonce speechless, turned over the article in
question.
“Good-night, Miss Moloof.” Mrs. Eppingwell was royal even in
defeat.
Freda reciprocated, though barely downing the impulse to clasp the
other’s knees and beg forgiveness,–no, not forgiveness, but
something, she knew not what, but which she none the less greatly
desired.
The man was for her taking his arm; but she had made her kill in
the midst of the pack, and that which led kings to drag their
vanquished at the chariot-tail, led her toward the door alone,
Floyd Vanderlip close at heel and striving to re-establish his
mental equilibrium.
Tales of the Klondyke
107
V
It was bitter cold. As the trail wound, a quarter of a mile
brought them to the dancer’s cabin, by which time her moist breath
had coated her face frostily, while his had massed his heavy
mustache till conversation was painful. By the greenish light of
the aurora borealis, the quicksilver showed itself frozen hard in
the bulb of the thermometer which hung outside the door. A
thousand dogs, in pitiful chorus, wailed their ancient wrongs and
claimed mercy from the unheeding stars. Not a breath of air was
moving. For them there was no shelter from the cold, no shrewd
crawling to leeward in snug nooks. The frost was everywhere, and
they lay in the open, ever and anon stretching their trail-
stiffened muscles and lifting the long wolf-howl.
They did not talk at first, the man and the woman. While the maid
helped Freda off with her wraps, Floyd Vanderlip replenished the
fire; and by the time the maid had withdrawn to an inner room, his
head over the stove, he was busily thawing out his burdened upper
lip. After that he rolled a cigarette and watched her lazily
through the fragrant eddies. She stole a glance at the clock. It
lacked half an hour of midnight. How was she to hold him? Was he
angry for that which she had done? What was his mood? What mood
of hers could meet his best? Not that she doubted herself. No,
no. Hold him she could, if need be at pistol point, till Sitka
Charley’s work was done, and Devereaux’s too.
There were many ways, and with her knowledge of this her contempt
for the man increased. As she leaned her head on her hand, a
fleeting vision of her own girlhood, with its mournful climacteric
and tragic ebb, was vouchsafed her, and for the moment she was
minded to read him a lesson from it. God! it must be less than
human brute who could not be held by such a tale, told as she
could tell it, but–bah! He was not worth it, nor worth the pain
to her. The candle was positioned just right, and even as she
thought of these things sacredly shameful to her, he was
pleasuring in the transparent pinkiness of her ear. She noted his
eye, took the cue, and turned her head till the clean profile of
the face was presented. Not the least was that profile among her
virtues. She could not help the lines upon which she had been
builded, and they were very good; but she had long since learned
those lines, and though little they needed, was not above
advantaging them to the best of her ability. The candle began to
flicker. She could not do anything ungracefully, but that did not
prevent her improving upon nature a bit, when she reached forth
and deftly snuffed the red wick from the midst of the yellow
flame. Again she rested head on hand, this time regarding the man
thoughtfully, and any man is pleased when thus regarded by a
pretty woman.
Tales of the Klondyke
108
She was in little haste to begin. If dalliance were to his
liking, it was to hers. To him it was very comfortable, soothing
his lungs with nicotine and gazing upon her. It was snug and warm
here, while down by the water-hole began a trail which he would
soon be hitting through the chilly hours. He felt he ought to be
angry with Freda for the scene she had created, but somehow he
didn’t feel a bit wrathful. Like as not there wouldn’t have been
any scene if it hadn’t been for that McFee woman. If he were the
Governor, he would put a poll tax of a hundred ounces a quarter
upon her and her kind and all gospel sharks and sky pilots. And
certainly Freda had behaved very ladylike, held her own with Mrs.
Eppingwell besides. Never gave the girl credit for the grit. He
looked lingeringly over her, coming back now and again to the
eyes, behind the deep earnestness of which he could not guess lay
concealed a deeper sneer. And, Jove, wasn’t she well put up!
Wonder why she looked at him so? Did she want to marry him, too?
Like as not; but she wasn’t the only one. Her looks were in her
favor, weren’t they? And young–younger than Loraine Lisznayi.
She couldn’t be more than twenty-three or four, twenty-five at
most. And she’d never get stout. Anybody could guess that the
first time. He couldn’t say it of Loraine, though. SHE certainly
had put on flesh since the day she served as model. Huh! once he
got her on trail he’d take it off. Put her on the snowshoes to
break ahead of the dogs. Never knew it to fail, yet. But his
thought leaped ahead to the palace under the lazy Mediterranean
sky–and how would it be with Loraine then? No frost, no trail,
no famine now and again to cheer the monotony, and she getting
older and piling it on with every sunrise. While this girl Freda-
-he sighed his unconscious regret that he had missed being born
under the flag of the Turk, and came back to Alaska.
“Well?” Both hands of the clock pointed perpendicularly to
midnight, and it was high time he was getting down to the water-
hole.
“Oh!” Freda started, and she did it prettily, delighting him as
his fellows have ever been delighted by their womankind. When a
man is made to believe that a woman, looking upon him
thoughtfully, has lost herself in meditation over him, that man
needs be an extremely cold-blooded individual in order to trim his
sheets, set a lookout, and steer clear.
“I was just wondering what you wanted to see me about,” he
explained, drawing his chair up to hers by the table.
“Floyd,” she looked him steadily in the eyes, “I am tired of the
whole business. I want to go away. I can’t live it out here till
the river breaks. If I try, I’ll die. I am sure of it. I want
to quit it all and go away, and I want to do it at once.”
She laid her hand in mute appeal upon the back of his, which
turned over and became a prison. Another one, he thought, just
throwing herself at him. Guess it wouldn’t hurt Loraine to cool
Tales of the Klondyke
109
her feet by the water-hole a little longer.
“Well?” This time from Freda, but softly and anxiously.
“I don’t know what to say,” he hastened to answer, adding to
himself that it was coming along quicker than he had expected.
“Nothing I’d like better, Freda. You know that well enough.” He
pressed her hand, palm to palm. She nodded. Could she wonder
that she despised the breed?
“But you see, I–I’m engaged. Of course you know that. And the
girl’s coming into the country to marry me. Don’t know what was
up with me when I asked her, but it was a long while back, and I
was all-fired young–”
“I want to go away, out of the land, anywhere,” she went on,
disregarding the obstacle he had reared up and apologized for. “I
have been running over the men I know and reached the conclusion
that–that–”
“I was the likeliest of the lot?”
She smiled her gratitude for his having saved her the
embarrassment of confession. He drew her head against his
shoulder with the free hand, and somehow the scent of her hair got
into his nostrils. Then he discovered that a common pulse
throbbed, throbbed, throbbed, where their palms were in contact.
This phenomenon is easily comprehensible from a physiological
standpoint, but to the man who makes the discovery for the first
time, it is a most wonderful thing. Floyd Vanderlip had caressed
more shovel-handles than women’s hands in his time, so this was an