“No, but you won’t have no trouble sellin’ the six yer goin’ to fetch up to Nolan. They’re sold already. An’ a couple of more, too, if you had ’em. Joe McCorkill, he’s in need of four to fill out his team, an’ the mail carrier needs two, an’ so does Johnny Atline. They’s plenty dogs fer sale around the camp, but they won’t none of ’em have no dogs but yourn. An’, say, let me give you a tip, hold out fer a hundred apiece fer ’em. You’ll git it. They all kin afford to pay it, an’ they’d ruther pay it fer the kind of dogs they’ll be gittin’, than to pay twenty or twenty-five fer mongrels or Siwash dogs.” “And, did you mush all the way down here to tell me that?” smiled the girl. “No, that ain’t the p’int--not altogether. The facts is, Nolan’s figgerin’ to pull off a reg’lar celebration this Chris’mus. A sort of winter carnival, they call it, an’ they’ll be contests of every kind we kin think up, an’ prizes fer the winner of each one. Everyone has kicked in an’ doneated what he could afford to, an’ we’ve got quite a sight of dust fer prize money. They’ll be wrastlin’, an’ boxin’, which owin’ to the facts that there ain’t no boxin’ gloves on the Koyukuk, is looked fer to produce a bloody pastime. Then, they’ll be snowshoe an’ ski races, a football game between the Kobuk Eskimos an’ the Injuns, whirlin’ down contests, an’ a dog race--mebbe.” “A dog race!” cried the girl, her eyes lighting with sudden interest. “Oh, I wonder if I could enter my team?” Enright smiled: “That’s what I come to see about--that, an’ the trimmin’s.” “The trimmings?” asked the girl, with a puzzled frown. “Yeh, you see, Miss Lou, they’s a little bit more to this here race than jist runnin’ the dogs. Sort of a little--what you might call politics.” The girl’s face darkened: “You mean--you don’t mean that there’s going to be anything crooked about it? That a certain team will be _allowed_ to win?” “No, no! Nothin’ like that! Why, Miss Lou, you ort to know we wouldn’t stand for nothin’ like that on the Koyukuk.” “Of course I do! But, what in the world do you mean?” “Hello! Here comes yer pa. We kin talk it over after supper an’ then I’ll mush on to my old cabin up the crick.” “Indeed you’ll do nothing of the kind!” laughed the girl. “We’ve got plenty of room right here. You bunk with dad. I’ve got a room of my own all curtained off.” Gordon gained the top of the low bank, and came toward them in the gloom. “Dad,” called the girl. “Here’s Pete Enright come to make us a visit!” The old man quickened his step and extended his hand: “Aye, Pete, lad, ye’re welcome back on Myrtle. How’s thing’s up river? An’ have ye seen Burr MacShane?” “No, Burr MacShane ain’t be’n saw nor heard tell of on the Koyukuk, fer it’s goin’ on four year or better. Nolan’s all right. They’s talk of a strike on Hammond River, further up the Koyukuk.”