A chorus of “Ayes” ratified the suggestion, with here and there a word of dissent by those who favored more drastic measures. But the dissenters were in the minority, and Enright silenced them. “All right, boys, she’s carried.” “And now, Dalzene, you listen to me, an’ if yer judgment’s good you’ll act accordin’. Yer dogs bein’ tired, you’ll be give twelve hours to leave Nolan, an’ leave it fer good. It’s six-thirty now. By six-thirty tomorrow mornin’ you’ll be mushin’ down the river. An’ you’ll keep on mushin’ till yer plumb off the Koyukuk. An’ you ain’t never to show yer face on the river, nor no part of it, nor no river nor crick that runs into it, from now on. Yer outlawed on the Koyukuk. From six-thirty tomorrow mornin’ it’s open season fer you the year around. An’ any man ketchin’ you on the Koyukuk from then on, an’ don’t kill you on sight, is shirkin’ his public duty, an’ a traitor to the Territory of Alaska. You ain’t the kind of man that’s wanted on this river. News of the rulin’ of this here meetin’ will go down river clean to the Yukon with the mail carrier, an’ they ain’t a man on the Koyukuk but what will abide by it. If you’ve got anything to say, say it now.” Dalzene had recovered his nerve to a great extent as the course of Enright’s remarks drew away from the idea of the rope. For he knew the temper of miner’s meetings, and well he knew that had Enright seen fit to have put the suggestion of hanging to a vote it would have carried as easily as the order to stay off the river had carried. And he also knew that having passed sentence the men would abide by their decision, and that, for the present, he was in no danger of physical violence. So it was with an air of truculence that he addressed Enright: “Yer a hell of a bunch of sports, you be! Frame a man, an’ bust him, an’ then start him off on a six hundred mile trail without grub enough to git him half ways! You, Pete Enright, you’ve warned me off one of the best tradin’ grounds I had, an’ how do you expect me to make Rampart without grub nor dog feed?” Enright grinned: “Well, Dalzene, it looks from here like you was the one to worry about that, not me. An’ as fer knockin’ you out of yer tradin’ grounds, it’s time us white men begun to give a little thought to the Siwashes. I was thinkin’ mostly of them when I was passin’ sentence.” “What damn business is it of yourn if I make an honest livin’ off’n the Injuns?” “Try it on the Koyukuk Injuns an’ you’ll have a long time in hell to figger that out fer yerself.” With a snarl, Dalzene turned to Crim, the trader: “Am I good fer a couple hundred pounds of grub an’ dog feed?” “If you got the dust to pay for it you are,” answered Crim. “I tell you I’m broke!” whined Dalzene. Crim shrugged, and turned away. “I suppose you’ll stand me off fer a couple of drink’s Wilcox, seein’ we’re in the same business.”