Vanderlip had gone? He had agreed to supply that gentleman with a big string of dogs by a certain time; but that shameless one, the German trader Meyers, had been buying up the brutes and skimped the market.It was very necessary he should see Mr.Vanderlip, because of the shameless one he would be all of a week behindhand in filling the contract.She did know where he had gone? Up-creek? Good! He would strike out after him at once and inform him of the unhappy delay.Did he understand her to say that Mr.
Vanderlip needed the dogs on Friday night? that he must have them by that time? It was too bad, but it was the fault of the shameless one who had bid up the prices.They had jumped fifty dollars per head, and should he buy on the rising market he would lose by the contract.He wondered if Mr.Vanderlip would be willing to meet the advance.She knew he would? Being Mr.
Vanderlip's friend, she would even meet the difference herself?
And he was to say nothing about it? She was kind to so look to his interests.Friday night, did she say? Good! The dogs would be on hand.
An hour later, Freda knew the elopement was to be pulled off on Friday night; also, that Floyd Vanderlip had gone up-creek, and her hands were tied.On Friday morning, Devereaux, the official courier, bearing despatches from the Governor, arrived over the ice.Besides the despatches, he brought news of Flossie.He had passed her camp at Sixty Mile; humans and dogs were in good condition; and she would doubtless be in on the morrow.Mrs.
Eppingwell experienced a great relief on hearing this; Floyd Vanderlip was safe up-creek, and ere the Greek girl could again lay hands upon him, his bride would be on the ground.But that afternoon her big St.Bernard, valiantly defending her front stoop, was downed by a foraging party of trail-starved Malemutes.
He was buried beneath the hirsute mass for about thirty seconds, when rescued by a couple of axes and as many stout men.Had he remained down two minutes, the chances were large that he would have been roughly apportioned and carried away in the respective bellies of the attacking party; but as it was, it was a mere case of neat and expeditious mangling.Sitka Charley came to repair the damages, especially a right fore-paw which had inadvertently been left a fraction of a second too long in some other dog's mouth.As he put on his mittens to go, the talk turned upon Flossie and in natural sequence passed on to the--"er horrid woman." Sitka Charley remarked incidentally that she intended jumping out down river that night with Floyd Vanderlip, and further ventured the information that accidents were very likely at that time of year.
So Mrs.Eppingwell's thoughts of Freda were unkinder than ever.
She wrote a note, addressed it to the man in question, and intrusted it to a messenger who lay in wait at the mouth of Bonanza Creek.Another man, bearing a note from Freda, also waited at that strategic point.So it happened that Floyd Vanderlip, riding his sled merrily down with the last daylight, received the notes together.He tore Freda's across.No, he would not go to see her.There were greater things afoot that night.Besides, she was out of the running.But Mrs.Eppingwell!
He would observe her last wish,--or rather, the last wish it would be possible for him to observe,--and meet her at the Governor's ball to hear what she had to say.From the tone of the writing it was evidently important; perhaps-- He smiled fondly, but failed to shape the thought.Confound it all, what a lucky fellow he was with the women any way! Scattering her letter to the frost, he mushed the dogs into a swinging lope and headed for his cabin.It was to be a masquerade, and he had to dig up the costume used at the Opera House a couple of months before.Also, he had to shave and to eat.Thus it was that he, alone of all interested, was unaware of Flossie's proximity.
"Have them down to the water-hole off the hospital, at midnight, sharp.Don't fail me," he said to Sitka Charley, who dropped in with the advice that only one dog was lacking to fill the bill, and that that one would be forthcoming in an hour or so."Here's the sack.There's the scales.Weigh out your own dust and don't bother me.I've got to get ready for the ball."Sitka Charley weighed out his pay and departed, carrying with him a letter to Loraine Lisznayi, the contents of which he correctly imagined to refer to a meeting at the water-hole of the hospital, at midnight, sharp.
Twice Freda sent messengers up to the Barracks, where the dance was in full swing, and as often they came back without answers.
Then she did what only Freda could do--put on her furs, masked her face, and went up herself to the Governor's ball.Now there happened to be a custom--not an original one by any means--to which the official clique had long since become addicted.It was a very wise custom, for it furnished protection to the womankind of the officials and gave greater selectness to their revels.
Whenever a masquerade was given, a committee was chosen, the sole function of which was to stand by the door and peep beneath each and every mask.Most men did not clamor to be placed upon this committee, while the very ones who least desired the honor were the ones whose services were most required.The chaplain was not well enough acquainted with the faces and places of the townspeople to know whom to admit and whom to turn away.In like condition were the several other worthy gentlemen who would have asked nothing better than to so serve.To fill the coveted place, Mrs.McFee would have risked her chance of salvation, and did, one night, when a certain trio passed in under her guns and muddled things considerably before their identity was discovered.
Thereafter only the fit were chosen, and very ungracefully did they respond.
