Before many days had passed Angela realized how wisely Jim had traded in Vancouver. At the time she had wondered why he had been so prodigal in the matter of food. It seemed to her sheer lunacy to travel over icy mountains with what appeared to be enough food for a traveling circus. Now she saw that but for his foresight they might have felt the fine edge of starvation as others were doing.

With remarkable suddenness the cold had vanished and the thermometer mounted daily. A dank, warm atmosphere embraced the country. Under the vanishing snow were green buds that burst into bloom at the first direct rays of the sun. An unwelcome visitor invaded the camp—the mosquito. He rose from the swampy river in myriads, and made life a torture. 128

Jim had got his usual hustle on. Very quickly he became a popular figure in the town. But two days after his arrival he met an old friend—a gaunt, lanky figure, with a beard a foot long.

“Why, darn me if it ain’t Colorado Jim!”

He turned and saw Dan, late owner of the Medicine Bow Hotel, looking wonderfully prosperous and happy.

“Hello, Dan!”

“Gosh, you ain’t altered none. Come and hev’ some poison.”

They pushed their way into a crowded saloon, and Dan flung down a small poke of gold-dust for a bottle of whisky, from which he received no change.

“What’s your lay, Jim?”

“Prospectin’.”

“Wal, yore sure a queer cuss. Why in hell d’ye want to go prospectin’ with a million of the best in the bank?”

Jim laughed.

“I’m broke, Dan.”

“What!”

“Yep. An’ I’m married.” 129

Dan nearly choked. Then he clapped his hand on his leg and roared with delight.

“Married. Wal, I guess she’s a lucky gal, even if you are bust. But how’d it happen?”

“Bad speculation. But I’m through with that. See here, Dan, I’m wantin’ to stake a couple of claims, but every darn piece of dirt seems pegged out.”

Dan stroked his beard.

“Yore late. I got wise to what it’d be like, so I hiked up here early. Staked twenty-two on Bonanza and sold out yesterday to the Syndicate. Five hundred thousand I got, and never thawed out more’n a square yard of dirt. And now I’m mushing for the bright lights.”

Jim’s face contracted.

“I hope you’ll like ’em, Dan. They sure gave me the croup. Maybe I ain’t built that way, and you are. ’Pears to me that the Klondyke is a mission-hall compared to London or New York. They’ll take the gold filling from yore false teeth out there.”

Dan surveyed him carefully.

“What’s wrong, Jim? You seem kinder moody like. Someone kicked you in the hip?” 130

“You got it.”

“Wal, I guess you’ll git over it,” said Dan philosophically. “Mebbe you’d like me to take some message back, eh?”

“She ain’t back there,” said Jim. “She’s right here.”

Dan looked as though he had been shot.

“What’s that? You ain’t telling me——?”

“Why not?”

“This is a hell of a place for ladies.”

Jim frowned. He knew that perfectly well. Now and again a feeling of self-reproach came, but he strangled it by reflecting upon the trick that had been played upon him. After all, he had bought her at her own price, and he meant to keep her.

Two or three of Dan’s lucky friends were scanning Jim’s enormous figure with obvious interest.

“Say, boys, ’member I told you about a husky guy at Medicine Bow who made a pile and sold out?”

“Sure!”

“Wal, this is him all right. Ain’t he a beaut?”

They shook hands with Jim and ordered more 131 whisky. Like Dan they were overburdened with money, and remarkably free with it. They were beguiling the time in innocent “jags” pending the arrival of the boat in the river that was to take them out of the Klondyke.

“Looking for a claim?” inquired one of them.

“Thet’s so.”

“Nothin’ doing this side of Blackwater, but there’s a dinky little creek five mile up-river. What do they call that creek where Dave staked, Whitey?”

“Red Ruin,” replied Whitey.

“Yep, Red Ruin. There’s a mile or so at the lower end unstaked, and if there ain’t gold there, my name ain’t what it is. Dave staked 250 feet yesterday, and he’s sure nuts on gold.”

Dan nodded.

“You hike there, Jim, afore it goes to someone else.”

“Ain’t a healthy sort of name—Red Ruin,” said Jim with a laugh.

“Names don’t count.”

Jim was finally persuaded to try his luck there. He left the party, followed by their best wishes for success, and made for the camp up the hill. 132 He found Angela in a fit of revolt. She had done nothing since he left that morning. Dirty pans and dishes littered the ground and blankets were lying in heaps all round.

“Angela!”

She looked at him.

“You ain’t bin hustling overmuch.”

She flared up in an instant.

“I’m sick of this. You brought me here by brute force. I won’t go on with it. Do you understand? I’ve tramped over that icy wilderness with you. I’ve suffered until I can suffer no longer. You never were a gentleman, and ordinary courtesy and respect for a woman are unknown to you, but surely you have a heart somewhere within you. Can’t you see this is killing me? Do you want to break my heart?”

“Hearts are hearts, ain’t they? And breaking one ain’t no worse than breaking another. No, I’m no gentleman—not the kind you bin used to. That’s why I came here—because here they’re only men, and I’d jest as soon be a man as anything else on earth. I reckon that where a man goes his woman should go too.”

She flushed at the appellation “woman.” 133

“You talk like a barbarian. I’m not your woman—you understand? Not your woman.”

“Figure out how you may,” he retorted, “when you buy a thing, you buy it, and it’s yours until someone pays you to git it, or someone is hefty enough to take it from you. As for that, if any guy thinks about cuttin’ in, he’s welcome to try.”

The true sense of his position was made patent. His rough philosophy was good. Had she been his by mere conquest, no man in the Klondyke would have disputed it. Being his wife, legally, his position was doubly strong. Only cunning could win through. She meant to exercise that faculty as soon as opportunity presented itself. And the opportunity was close at hand.

“I’m going up-river to-morrow,” he said, “to prospect a creek, and to stake two claims if it’s a promising place. I’ll be back before sundown.... Ain’t you goin’ to git supper?”

She was on the point of refusing to carry out the necessary abhorrent domestic work, but the chance of escape which his words gave rise to brought discretion to the forefront. She cooked a dish of beans and opened some canned fruit, 134 and they took their meal, thrusting it beneath the shielding mosquito-nets which seldom left their heads.

Half an hour later they made ready for sleep, in very close proximity to the hard ground, with a hanging canvas curtain between them.

“Good-night, Angela!” he said.

She returned no answer.

Down in the town things were just beginning to wake up. No one worried about time in Dawson City. The nights were like the days, the only difference being that the nights were more noisy. Time was stretched and manipulated with as much ease as an elastic band. Men went to bed at eight in the morning, and woke up to take their breakfast at three or four in the afternoon. Thereafter came dancing, drinking, mirth, and boisterous song. The conditions of the northern summer aided and abetted this queer juggling with time, for it was never dark, and 3 A.M. was not much different to 3 P.M. And as a rule, the life of the saloons was too busy a thing to take notice of any changes in the position of the sun.

The next morning Jim, armed with a pick 135 and shovel and some stakes, left for Red Ruin. Angela watched him disappear over a bluff, and immediately prepared to put into operation her scheme for escape. She packed a small sack with the few things she would require, and wrote a short note which she pinned to the flap of the tent.

She took the sack and descended to the crowded town. The river was still belching ice into the Bering Sea, but the last floes were leaving the upper reaches, and she knew that in a few hours navigation would be possible, up-stream. Whilst many parties were content to wait for the steamer’s arrival, others, less patient, were preparing to “make out” up the river and lakes and over the Chilcoot.

She began to put out a few furtive inquiries, and secured the names of several men who were preparing for immediate departure. She was wise enough to take a look at these worthies before committing herself to their charge, and most of them did not please her. Wandering in the back areas at noon, she noticed a rough shack 136 bearing an obviously new announcement “For Sale.” Already a queue of prospective purchasers was lining up. When the owner—a sallow man of about fifty—appeared, he was besieged. The shack was sold in a few minutes to the highest bidder. Angela, nervous but determined, interrogated the sallow man.

“Excuse me, but are you leaving?”

He ran his keen eyes over her, immediately impressed by her beauty and her bearing.

“I am.”

“Soon?”

“To-morrow morning if the river’s clear.”

“Alone?”

“No—two others.”

Angela breathed a sigh of relief. There was safety in numbers.

“I want to go to England—or to New York. Will you take me? I’ve no money or food, but I’ll pay you well when I get away.”

The man stared.

“As soon as I can cable to my people they will send me money,” she resumed. “Take me as far as the first cable station, and in forty-eight hours 137 I will get money to recompense you,” she added quickly.

His brows contracted.

“What’s the hurry?”

“I want to get away from someone.”

“Ah—I see.”

“Will you—will you take me? I’ll work.”

He looked at her soft, exquisite face and figure, and grinned as he reflected that the work she could do was negligible; but the suggestion had its fascination. She was beautiful—and beautiful women were rare in the Klondyke. He opened the door of the shack and called “Tom!” Tom appeared in his shirt-sleeves—a big awry figure with a face like a chimpanzee.

“Got a grub-staker. What do you say?”

Tom’s face relaxed into a smirking smile as he also took a long survey of Angela.

“Canoe’s purty full up, but I dare say we can find room. Where’d ye want to go?”

“Anywhere out of this. Some place from where I can cable to England—for money.”

He looked at “Connie,” the sallow man, and nodded. The latter turned to Angela. 138

“We’re off in the morning. Is that your grip?”

“Yes.”

“Better leave it in the shack. There’s a small room at the back you kin hev’ to sleep in to-night.”

She thanked him and went inside the shack. Big bundles lay on the floor ready for the journey, and from the window in the back room she saw a long, newly made canoe. She put down her sack, and decided to get some food in the town with the few dollars she possessed, before taking refuge in the shack from Jim, who would doubtless return by the evening.

When she returned the third man was present. She smiled at the three of them as pleasantly as she knew how, and repaired to the back room. She imagined Jim’s amazement and wrath when he discovered she had gone. But it was extremely doubtful if he would find her in the short time that remained before her departure.

Time passed slowly enough. From outside came the sound of low voices. She crept to the keyhole and saw her three future companions 139 sitting round the rough table engrossed in a game of cards—poker. Close to hand were two bottles and three mugs. Now and again a low curse came to her ears. She began to wish the door possessed a lock and key!

She went back to the mattress and endeavored to get to sleep, but her brain was too full of the impending adventure to permit its flight into unconsciousness. Moreover, the card party began to get boisterous. She wondered if they were going to keep it up all night. A few minutes later there was a loud crash. She sat up and heard fierce arguments proceeding from the inner room. All three of them were talking at once, and she could not hear any intelligent sentence, but it was all to do with the “deal.” She went again to the keyhole just as they settled down again to play.

To her amazement they were playing with matches. The big chimpanzee man, Tom, had a huge pile in front of him. In the center of the table was another pile. She saw Tom put down his cards and growl “Three Queens,” picking up the matches in the pool with a triumphant laugh.

“Last deal,” said Connie. 140

“Yep. It’s between me and you, Connie, but I guess she’s mine.”

“Chickens ain’t hatched yet.”

“She ain’t no chicken—she’s peaches. Gee—some stake that!”

Angela suddenly felt sick as the truth came to her. She saw now the meaning of those matches. They were not playing for money, but for her! She sprang to the window, but escape that way was impossible, for it was not more than a foot square. Her heart beat in terrible suspense. She realized her dreadful position—out here, a mile or more from the town, she was utterly at the mercy of these brutes. They considered her fair prey, as most women were considered in the Klondyke at that time. Pleading a husband would make no difference. A woman ought to know better than to leave her husband. Unwittingly she had placed herself in that position.

There was only one way out, and that way lay through the inner room. She resolved to take it. She took the small sack and approached the door. A look through the keyhole revealed them engrossed in the decisive “hand.” With heaving 141 bosom she turned the handle and walked swiftly through the door.

She was almost past the table before they recovered from their surprise. Then the chimpanzee man put out a huge arm and caught her by the wrist.

“’Ere, what’s this?”

“Let me go.”

He grinned maliciously.

“I should say. Why, I’ve jest won you!”

She struggled in vain in his iron grip.

“Git back to thet room!” he ordered, and flung her towards the door.

It was the first time any man had laid hands on her, and it aroused the devil. Her face and neck went crimson. Some of the fear vanished under this storm of violent repugnance. She noticed a naked hunting-knife on a ledge by the window. She flew to it and gripped it menacingly.

She came nearer and raised it to strike any obstructors. Then Connie’s lean figure leapt forward. The knife rattled to the floor and her wrist ached from the blow he had dealt it. He took her by the shoulders. 142

“Cut that! Tom’s won you, and you’d better get wise to that.”

“You brutes! Do you think you can——”

Her voice petered out as she saw the horrible expression in Tom’s eyes. There was no hope of mercy there. Words were lost on this monster. All the evening he had dwelled with rapture upon the object of the gamble. He took her from Connie and held her fast in his arms. Connie laughed.

“You allus had the luck. Wal, perhaps she’ll transfer her affections later!”

“Let me go!” she cried, now thoroughly panic-stricken. “Oh, God!—let me go!”

The chimpanzee-man merely gurgled in his throat. He lifted her from the ground and made for the inner room. One of her hands became free. She seized a bunch of his hair until it was wrenched from his hard scalp.

“Ugh!” he grunted. “Go on—it’s my turn in a minnit.”

“You monster!”

“Good-night—boys!” he cried mockingly.

“Happy dreams!” sneered Connie. “Don’t forget we start——” 143

The third man, a silent, morose individual, suddenly gave a gasp as the outer door was flung open. The others turned and saw the enraged face of Colorado Jim behind a big six-shooter.