The latter stood in the doorway of a low log shack, his great hands cupped over large blue goggles through which his eyes showed dimly, the lids screwed together, leaving only slits for the admission of the dreaded glare of light from the snow. His hands were crusted with dirt. His face, bearded to the rim of the goggles, was grimy, and the beard matted. His hair hung uneven and uncombed to his thick rounded shoulders. He wore a colored flannel shirt, a sheepskin coat, and corduroy trousers thrust into the knee-high tops of old shoes. In response to Steele's greeting and introduction Weimer extended his hand, peered at Ross a moment, and then asked eagerly in a throaty, husky voice of Steele: "D'ye pack any tobac' over?" "Lots of it," cried Steele jovially. "Enough for your use and some for you to give to your neighbors." Immediately Weimer's sagging, middle-aged figure became straight and stiff, and his high forehead wrinkled in a heavy frown. "Give dem McKenzies anyting! Ven I do, it'll be ven my name ain't Shake Veimer." Steele stepped quickly in front of the older man, and spoke forcefully. "There's one thing, Uncle Jake, that you're givin' 'em as fast as you can, and that's these claims." "Nein! Nein!" Weimer shouted. "Das ist nicht so!" His uneven black hair bobbed wildly about his shoulders. He pumped his powerful arms up and down as if the McKenzies were beneath them. Steele thrust his face near that of the agitated man, and demanded roughly, "How many shots have you put since you were over to Camp to get me to write to young Grant's father? Say, now!" Weimer's manner became cringing. He backed into the cabin. "If your eyes----" he began, but Steele cut him short. "You know you've not taken one pound of ore out of your tunnel since. You know you have sat around here waitin' for Grant to send some one to help you out----" Weimer put up a great hand, and shrank back as a child would have retreated before his mother's upraised slipper. Steele followed him into the cabin, and Ross slowly followed Steele. "The snow ist come," whimpered Weimer; "und I can't see ven the snow comes, und the tunnel so far ist to valk----" But Steele cut short his complaints sternly. "Now," he declared, "all your excuses must come to an end. Here is some one to help. Young Grant here is going to put this work through, and you've got to brace up and help him. I should be ashamed to sit down and let a couple of McKenzies take away my claims." At once Weimer became alert and combative. The McKenzies should not take the claims.