"'Sufferin' sluice-boxes! Are you plumb daffy? Bring a woman into
the Yukon--and a little baby.'

"'She'd follow me anywhere. She's awful proud; proud as a Kentucky
girl can be, and those people would make your uncle Lucifer look like
a cringing cripple, but she'd live in an Indian hut with me.'

"'Sure! And follerin' out the simile, nobody but a Siwash would let
her. If she don't like some other feller better while you're gone,
what're you scared about?'

"He never answered; just looked at me pityfyin', as much as to say,
'Well, you poor, drivelin, old polyp!'

"One day Denny, the squaw-man, drove up the creek:

"'Windy Jim is back with the mail,' says he, and we hit for camp on
the run. Only fifteen mile, she is, but I was all in when we got
there, keepin' up with Justus. His eyes outshone the snow-glitter
and he sang--all the time he wasn't roasting me for being so
slow--claimed I was active as a toad-stool. A man ain't got no
license to excite hisself unless he's struck pay dirt--or got a
divorce.

"'Gi'me my mail, quick!' he says to Windy, who had tinkered up a
one-night stand post-office and dealt out letters, at five dollars
per let.'

"'Nothing doing,' says Windy.