Disregarding the interruption, MacShane proceeded: “It was way back--I don’t remember the year. The lower river was plugged with rough ice, an’ a certain freighter thought he could figure out a new trail--up the Innoko, through the Kaiyuh Mountains, an’ hit Kaltag by way of Kaiyuh Slough. It might of worked if the freighter could have got through the mountains before he run out of grub. When he was on his last dog----” Bill Ames leaped from his chair, and stood before MacShane, staring straight into his eyes: “Just a minute!” he cried, excitedly pointing a forefinger into MacShane’s face, “You tell me this, an’ By God, I’ll know it’s _you_! What happened about a year or two after that, in a cabin at the big bend of the Anvik?” MacShane grinned: “Why, Bill, me an’ you come onto _Kultus_ McCormack an’ a breed girl that he’d toled off from the mission--an’ we gave him--what he had comin’!” “_Burr MacShane!_ By all the gods that’s swore by! Burr MacShane! You damn old sourdough! Where in hell you be’n fer the last twenty years, or so? You was only a kid, then, you might say--but you was some man! Them was the days--when I had my two legs in under me, an’ the country wasn’t all gummed up with _chechakos_!” “You’re right, Bill! But, do I drive those dogs? Do you think I can handle ’em?” “That’s right, damn you, rub it in! Mebbe I was a fool, Burr ... but somehow, that gal----” “Fool--hell! You done just right.” “An’ did you know me all the time? An’ never let on!” “Sure, I did,” laughed MacShane, “You ain’t any older than you was then, but I’m twice as old. I’ve never forgot you, Bill.” “All Alaska used to be talkin’ about what a hell of a trail musher you was. Gosh sakes! If them other mushers know’d who was goin’ to drive them dogs, they’d all quit! You’ll win--but look out fer Johnson an’ Scotty Allen. They’re both damn good men, an’ they’ve got damn good dogs--but you’ll win. You’ve got to win--er you don’t git the gal----” “What do you mean?” cried MacShane. Ames laughed, knowingly: “Go on with you! I’m fer you. An’ take it from me--they ain’t another woman in the North that’s deuce-high with her, anyways you look at it. You’re a lucky dog, Burr.” “You’re crazy as hell!” exclaimed MacShane, displaying real annoyance, “If you think Miss Gordon could ever--ever care that way, for an old sourdough like me, you’re a fool--an’ as for me--we’re just good friends--or were till she got the idea I poisoned her--an’ that’s all there is to it.” “All right--have it yer own way. But I’ve kind of had a chanct to see which way the wind was blowin’ fer a couple of weeks--an’ I’m tellin’ it to you if you don’t want to be in love with that gal, an’ don’t want her to be in love with you--then you’re in a hell of a fix--that’s all I got to say.”