"A pretty predicament," Miss Gastell laughed, at sight of his mud-
covered face.

"Not at all," he replied airily. "My favourite physical exercise
stunt. Try it some time. It's great for the pectoral muscles and
the spine."

He wiped his face, flinging the slush from his hand with a snappy
jerk.

"Oh!" she cried in recognition. "It's Mr--ah--Mr Smoke Bellew."

"I thank you gravely for your timely rescue and for that name," he
answered. "I have been doubly baptized. Henceforth I shall insist
always on being called Smoke Bellew. It is a strong name, and not
without significance."

He paused, and then voice and expression became suddenly fierce.

"Do you know what I'm going to do?" he demanded. "I'm going back to
the States. I am going to get married. I am going to raise a large
family of children. And then, as the evening shadows fall, I shall
gather those children about me and relate the sufferings and
hardships I endured on the Chilcoot Trail. And if they don't cry--I
repeat, if they don't cry, I'll lambaste the stuffing out of them."



VIII.