“What, sell Skookum! No sir! There isn’t dust enough on the Koyukuk to buy Skookum. No dog in that team is for sale. But, that reminds me, Pete Enright said you wanted to buy a couple of dogs. The six that he is driving are for sale.” “No, mom, they ain’t,” grinned Atline. “Enright he said how you was holdin’ ’em at a hundred apiece. It’s a pretty stiff price fer dogs when they ain’t no stampede on, but we know your dogs is worth more’n the common run, so I bought two, an’ Joe McCorkill, took two, an’ the mail carrier took two. The dust’s waitin’ fer you in Crim’s safe. Here comes Enright, now.” “Come on, Enright!” yelled a man in the crowd, which having witnessed the start, was already dispersing and straggling back into the camp. Others took up the cry, and standing upon his sled whirling his whip high above his head, Enright dashed cross the finish line amid a chorus of good-natured banter: “Hooray fer Enright!” “Five minutes an’ two seconds! That’s the world’s record fer fifty miles!” “Enright wins a can of corn!” “Wait till I thrash my bananas, an’ I’ll hang a wreath of ’em around yer neck!” “Watermelons would look better!” “Much obliged, gents!” laughed Enright, “But, what’s more to the p’int, while these here decorations is bein’ got ready, let’s go up to the Aurora Borealis an’ I’ll buy a drink!” “That sounds reasonable!” agreed Rim Rock, “an’ then we kin go ahead with the wrastlin’ match an’ the fist fight.” “Boxin’ exhibition, you rough neck!” corrected Wilcox. “Why sure,” seconded Enright, “The idee of callin’ it a fist fight! Rim Rock, you bloodthirsty devil, you ain’t fit to be heard talk in p’lite society! This here is goin’ to be a strictly scientific sparrin’ match--bare fisted, with gougin’, bitin’, an kickin’ not barred, an’ pulled off all in one round of an hour and ten minutes, onless a knockout is secured in the meantime. Come on you malamutes! The dance hall for us till time fer the finish of this race!” Hailing the three men who had bought the six dogs, Enright turned them over. “Here you all, divide up yer dogs. We sure had Dalzene fooled good an’ proper with ’em. They’re good dogs, too, but they wasn’t no use runnin’ ’em over the trail agin them other teams, so when they got out of sight, I hauled out.” On the walk back to camp, Enright fell in beside Lou Gordon: “Well, Miss Lou, the last I seen of ’em yer pa was leadin’ by about a good pistol shot, an’ goin’ strong. I believe he’s a-goin’ to win this race.” “If he can keep well ahead so he won’t think he has to use his whip he will probably make it almost as fast as I could. The dogs are a little bit used to having him drive them. But, if Dalzene should overtake him and try to pass, I’m afraid something will happen. Dad will get excited and the first thing he will do will be to use the whip, and then the whole team will go to pieces.” “Yes, but if that dirty hound of a Dalzene fouls him, we win anyhow.”