“I almost wish I hadn’t told dad to rest them at the turn. That may give Dalzene a chance to pass, and I’m afraid dad never could regain the lead without mixing up.” “He’ll be so fer ahead at the turn that he kin rest ’em fer an hour an’ still keep the lead,” opined Enright. “Anyways, I’m satisfied my money’s on the right team. An’ now about these here wrastlin’ an’ boxin’ stunts. Do you want to see ’em? If you do, I’ll see that you git a good seat.” “No, thank you. I’ll visit with Mrs. Crim until the ski and snowshoe races, and the tug of war come off.” “All right, Miss Lou, an’ don’t worry about that race. I really believe we’re a-goin’ to win. An’ if we do, she’s worth about nineteen hundred dollars to you.” “Nineteen hundred dollars!” cried the girl, stopping and peering into the man’s face in wide-eyed surprise. “Nineteen hundred dollars! What do you mean?” “Why, don’t you remember I told you that in case we win the boys thought that it wouldn’t be more than fair to add ten percent of their winnin’s to the prize? Well, Dalzene’s got fifteen thousan’ bet on this race. An’ ten percent of that is fifteen hundred, an’ the race stakes is four hundred, an’ that makes nineteen hundred.” “Nineteen hundred dollars,” breathed the girl, as they walked on through the gloom, “That’s a lot of money.” “Yes, Miss Lou, it’s quite a heft of dust fer a girl to clean up. But it ain’t nothin’ to what you could make if your dogs win this race--an’ I ain’t so sure I wouldn’t try it if I was you, even if you don’t win.” “Try what? What do you mean?” “I mean the Alaska Sweepstakes. Take them dogs over to Nome in the spring an’ run ’em agin’ some real dogs. An’ if they win today they’ll be plenty of Koyukuk dust over there to back ’em. They don’t know nothin’ about your dogs over there, so the odds ort to be right promisin’.” “Oh, do you think I could--really? I--win the Alaska Sweepstakes!” They had reached the door of the Aurora Borealis through which the men were already crowding. “Well, Miss Lou, I ain’t sayin’, of course, that you could win. But, I will guarantee that them dogs of yourn will give anything they’ve got over there a run fer their money.” And, as Enright turned to enter the door, Lou Gordon proceeded on toward the trading store, with her brain in a whirl. CHAPTER XIV THE FINISH At three-thirty in the afternoon, with the other events of the celebration out of the way, all Nolan once more collected upon the river. Great bonfires of spruce tops and loppings were built upon the ice behind the finish line. For a half-mile or more up river, the first and the last half-mile of the race trail, the ice was bare of snow, or rather, the snow had become incorporated into the ice by reason of a great overflow which had taken place several days before. It was an ideal stretch for the finish, broad as the river itself, and with a surface smooth, but not the glassy smoothness of glare ice.