Jake Dalzene’s surprise at meeting Lou Gordon on the trail between Nome and Soloman swiftly gave place to an outburst of rage that found vent in an outpouring of meaningless curses and a senseless abuse of his dogs during the remaining journey to Nome. Dalzene’s presence on the Seward Peninsula had but indirectly to do with the Alaska Sweepstakes. With the escape of Skookum on Dall River, had vanished all thought of entering the great race. An infection in his mangled hand held him at Fort Gibbon in care of the Army surgeon who had saved the member only to have it heal into a twisted, and all but worthless, claw. It was while at the fort that Dalzene learned of the appearance on the Yukon of a United States marshal who was as proficient as he was persistent in the extermination of hooch-runners. And so it was that when the hand had healed sufficiently for travel, he quietly slipped up to Rampart City, loaded his remaining stock of liquor onto his sled and hit the trail for Nome. It was a long trail. Dalzene would have much preferred a trip up the Koyukuk. But, far rather would he have taken chances with the marshal and the Yukon, than to show up on the Koyukuk in the face of the protocol of the miner’s meeting. With hate-smouldering eyes he promised himself that some day he would quietly slip up to Myrtle and, in his own way, even up the score with the Gordons--but not yet. The upper Yukon, policed as it was by the Mounted would prove equally unhealthy, and the Tanana hardly less so. The lower coast had been closed to him for years, so perforce, he must hit for Nome. There were plenty of natives along the coast. If he made good time he could get rid of his hooch to the Eskimos and, by judicious betting on the big race, would have a chance to retrieve the fortune he had lost on the Koyukuk. Taking with him an Indian from Rampart, he made good time on the trail, despite the fact that, swath it as he would, his injured hand was so sensitive to the cold that it gave him almost constant pain. From Unalaklik north he managed to trade all of his hooch for fur. At Council he learned through careful inquiry that it was almost a foregone conclusion that John Johnson would win the Sweepstakes. Whereupon he placed several bets, and continued his journey to Nome.