The Crimson Gardenia and Other Tales of Adventure

by Rex Beach

  Her real name was June--well, the rest doesn't matter; for no one evergot beyond that point. It was the Scrap Iron Kid who first bore news ofher coming to the Wag-boys. Knowing him for a poet, they put down hisperfervid description as the logical outpouring of a romantic spirit.

  Reddy summed it up neatly by saying, "The Kid has fell for anotherquilt, that's all."

  "I 'ain't fell for no frill," the Kid stoutly declared. "I've saw toomany to lose me out. This gal's a thoroughbred."

  "Another recruit for Simons, I suppose," Llewellyn yawned. "I'll drop inat the theater and look her over."

  "An' she ain't no actor, neither," Scrap Iron declared. "She's goin' tostart a hotel."

  "Bah! If she's as good-looking as you claim, some Swede will marry herbefore she can buy her dishes."

  "Sure! They must all pull something like that to start with," said theDummy, who was a woman-hater; "then when you've played 'em straight theyh'ist the pirate's flag and go to palmin' percentage checks in somedance-hall."

  But again the idealistic Scrap Iron Kid came stubbornly to the defenseof the new-comer; and the argument was growing warm when Thomasville andthe Swede entered with two caddies of tobacco which they had managed toacquire during the confusion at the water-front, thus ending thediscussion.

  There were six of the Wag-boys, six as bold and unscrupulous gentlemenas the ebb and swirl of the Northern gold rush had left stranded beneaththe rim of the Arctic, and they had joined forces, drawn as much,perhaps, by their common calling as by the facilities thus afforded forperfecting any alibis that a long and lonesome winter might rendernecessary. Nor is it quite correct to state that they were stranded; forit takes more than the buffets of a stormy fate to strand such men asthe Dummy and George Llewellyn and the Scrap Iron Kid and their threecompanions.

  Llewellyn was the gentleman of the outfit, owing to the fact that thepolish of an early training had not been utterly dulled by a four years'trick at Deer Lodge Penitentiary. The Dummy had gained his name from anadmirable self-restraint which no "third-degree" methods had ever servedto break; Thomasville was so called because of a boyish pride in hisGeorgia birthplace; while Reddy and the Swede--But this is the story ofthe Wag-lady, and we digress.

  To begin with, June was young, with a springtime flush in her cheeks,and eyes as clear as glacier pools. Yet with all her youth and beauty,she possessed a poise that held men at a distance. She also had acertain fearlessness that came, perhaps, from worldly innocence and wasfar more effective than the customary brazenness of frontier women. Shewent ahead with her business, asking neither advice nor assistance, and,almost before the Wag-boys knew what she was up to, she had leased theP. C. Warehouse near their cabin and had carpenters changing it into abunk-house.

  In a week it was open for business; on the second night after it wasfull. Then she built a tiny cabin near her "hotel," and proceeded tokeep house for herself, sleeping daytimes and working nights.

  "Say, she's coinin' money!" the Scrap Iron Kid advised his companionssome time later. "She's got fifty bunks at a dollar apiece, and each oneis full of Swede. You'd ought 'o drift by in business hours--it soundslike a sawmill."

  "If she's getting the money so fast, why don't you grab her, Kid?"inquired Llewellyn.

  "You cut that out!" snapped the former speaker. "There ain't nobodygoing to grab that dame. I'd croak any guy that made a crack at her, andthat goes!"

  Seeing a familiar light smoldering in the Kid's eyes, Llewellyn desistedfrom further comment, but he made up his mind to become acquainted withJune at once.

  Now, while he succeeded, it was in quite an unexpected manner; forbefore he had formulated any plan Thomasville came to him with aproposition that drove all thoughts of women from his mind and sent themboth out to the mines shortly after dark, each provided with asix-shooter and a bandana handkerchief with eyeholes cut in it.

  Jane had returned to her cabin the following morning, and was preparingfor bed, when she heard a faltering footstep outside. She glanced downat her money-sack filled with the night's receipts of her hotel, then atthe fastenings of her door. She knew that law was but a pretense andorder a mockery in the camp, but the next instant she slid back the boltand let in a flood of morning sunlight.

  There, leaning against her wall, was a tall, dark young man whose headwas hanging loosely and rolling from side to side. His hair beneath thegray Stetson was wet, his boots were sodden and muddy, one arm wasthrust limply into the front of his coat as if paralyzed. She saw thatthe sleeve was caked with blood. Even as she spoke he sagged forward andslid down at her feet.

  She was not the sort to run for help, and so, taking him under thearmpits, she had him on her bed and his sleeve cut away before he openedhis eyes. It was but an instant's work to heat a basin of water; thenshe fell to bathing the wound. When she drew forth the shreds of cloththat had been taken into the flesh by the bullet, the man's face grewghastly and she heard his teeth grind, but he made no other sound.

  "That hurt, didn't it?" she smiled at him, and he tried to smile back."How did it happen?" she queried.

  "Accident."

  "You have come a long way?"

  He nodded.

  "Why didn't you ask for help?"

  "It--wasn't worth while."

  She looked at him wonderingly, admiring his gameness; then was surprisedto hear him say:

  "So you're June!"

  "Yes."

  He closed his eyes and lay still while she poured some brandy for him;then he said:

  "Please don't bother. I must be going."

  "Not till you've eaten something." She laid a soft, cool palm upon hisforehead when he endeavored to rise, and he dropped back again, watchingher curiously.

  He had barely finished eating when another footstep sounded outside anda heavy knock followed.

  "Hey, June!" called a voice. "Are you up?"

  It was Jim Devlin, the marshal, and the girl rose, only to stop at thelook she saw in the wounded man's face. His dark eyes had widened;desperation haunted them.

  "What is it, Mr. Devlin?" she answered.

  "Have you seen anything of a wounded man within the last half-hour?"

  She flashed another glance at her guest, to find him staring at herdefiantly, but there was no appeal in his face. "What in the world doyou mean?"

  "There was a hold-up at Anvil Creek, and some shooting. We're prettysure one of the gang was hit, but he got away. Pete, the waterman, sayshe saw a sick-looking fellow crossing the tundra in this direction. Ithought you might have noticed him."

  Again June's eyes flew back to the pale face of the stranger. He hadrisen now and, seeing the frank inquiry in her gaze, he shrugged hisshoulders and turned his good hand palm upward as if in surrender,whereupon she answered the marshal:

  "I'm sorry you can't come in, Mr. Devlin; but I'm just going to bed."

  "Oh, that's all right. I'll take a look through your bunk-house. Sorryto disturb you."

  When the footsteps had died away the stranger moistened his lips andasked, "Why did you do that?"

  "I don't know. You are brave, and brave men aren't bad. Besides, Icouldn't bear to send any person out of God's sunshine into the dark.You see, I don't believe in prisons."

  When Llewellyn told the other Wag-boys of June's part in his escape hisstory was met with exclamations that would have pleased her to hear, butthe Scrap Iron Kid broke in to say, menacingly:

  "Look here, George, don't aim to take no advantage of what she done foryou when you was hurt, or I'll tip her off!"

  "Aw, rats!" cried Llewellyn, furiously. "What do you take me for?" Then,staring coldly at the Kid, he said, "And it won't do her any good tohave you hanging around, either."

  June's action toward Llewellyn, and her mode of life, gained theadmiration and respect of the Wag-boys, and although they avoided hercarefully, they watched over her from a distance. Nor was it long beforethey found a means of serving her, although she did not hear of it formany months.

  The Dummy came home
one night to inform his partners that SammySternberg, who owned the Miners' Rest, was boasting of his conquest ofJune, whereupon Sammy was notified by Llewellyn, acting as a committeeof one, that his lies must cease. Sammy got a little drunk a few nightslater and boasted again, with the result that the Scrap Iron Kid, whowas playing black-jack, promptly floored him with a clout of his .45,and the Swede who was standing near by kicked the prostrate Sternberg inthe most conspicuous part of his green-and-purple waistcoat, therebyloosening a rib.

  It was not long before the sporting element of the camp learned to treatJune with the highest courtesy, and, since she had been adopted in ameasure by the Wag-boys, she became known as the Wag-lady.

  Meanwhile June was prospering. The homeless men who patronized her placebegan to intrust their gold-sacks to her care; so she went to HarryHope, the P. C. agent, and bought a safe in which to deposit herlodgers' valuables. Frequently thereafter she sat guard all night overconsiderable sums of money while the owners snored peacefully in the bigback room.

  When winter closed down June began to see more and more of Harry Hope.And she began to like him, too; for he was the sort to win women'shearts, being big and boyish and full of merriment. He had spent severalyears in the Northland, and its winds had blown from him many of thecity-born traits, leaving him unaffected, impulsive, and hearty. Whilethe frontier takes away some evil qualities it also takes some goodones, and Harry Hope was not by any means a saint. As the nights grewlonger he gained the habit of dropping in to talk with June on his wayup-town. One evening he paused before leaving and asked:

  "Can you take care of something for me, June?"

  "Of course," she answered.

  He flung a leather wallet into her lap, laughing. "You're the banker forthe community; so lock that up overnight, if you please."

  "Oh-h!" she gasped. "There are thousands of dollars! I'd rather not."

  "Come! you must! I didn't get it in time to put it in the company'ssafe, and if I carry it around somebody will frisk me."

  "Where are you going?"

  "Down to Sternberg's. I'm going to outguess his faro-dealer. This is mylucky night, you know."

  Realizing full well the lawlessness of the camp, June felt a bit nervousas she laid the money away. In the course of the evening, however, shegradually lost her fears.

  Some time after midnight, when the big front room of the bunk-house wasempty, the outside door opened, admitting a billow of frost out of whichemerged two men. They were strangers to June, and when she asked them ifthey wished beds they said "No." They backed up to the stove and beganstaring at their surroundings curiously.

  It had never been June's practice to forbid any man the comfort of hercoal-burner, even though he lacked the price for a bed, but, rememberingthe money in her safe, she sharply ordered these two out.

  Neither man stirred. They blinked at her in a manner that sent littlespasms of nervousness up her spine.

  "I tell you it's too late--you can't stay!"

  "That's too bad," said one of them. He crossed toward the desk behindwhich she sat, at which she softly closed the heavy safe door. It gaveout a metallic click, however, which caused the fellow's eyes to gleam.

  "That safe ain't locked, eh?" he inquired.

  "Yes, it is," she lied.

  He smiled as if to put her at her ease, but it was an evil leer and sether heart to pounding violently. She was tempted to cry out and arouseher lodgers, but merely flung back the fellow's glance defiantly.

  The stranger ran his eye over the place and then said, "I guess we'llset awhile." Drawing a chair up beside the door, he motioned to hispartner to do the same. They tilted back at their ease, and June fanciedthey were listening intently. For a half-hour, an hour, they sat there,following her every movement, now and then exchanging a word in a tonetoo low for her to hear.

  She was well-nigh hysterical with the strain of waiting, when she sawboth men lower the front legs of their chairs and rise together. Thenext instant the door swung violently yet noiselessly inward and amasked man with a gun in his hand leaped out of the night. Another manwas at his heels, and they covered her simultaneously. Then a mostamazing thing occurred.

  June's mysterious visitors pounced upon them from behind, there was abrief, breathless struggle, and the next instant all four swept out intothe snow amid a tangle of arms and legs. Followed the sounds of afurious scuffle, of heavy blows, curses and groans, then a voice:

  "Beat it now or we'll croak the two of you! And peddle the word that norough stuff goes here. Do you get that?" There was the impact of a bootplanted against flesh, and the next instant June's deliverers hadre-entered and closed the door.

  One of them was sucking a wound in the fleshy part of his hand where afalling revolver hammer had punched him, but he inquired in a thoroughlybusiness-like tone, "Got a little hot water, June?"

  June emerged weakly from behind her desk. "W-what does it all--mean?"

  "Oh, it's all right. They won't trouble you no more."

  "They came to--rob me, and you knew it--"

  "Sure! Harry Hope got full and told about leaving eight thousand dollarswith you; so we beat 'em to it."

  "But why didn't you say so? You frightened me."

  "We wasn't sure they'd try it, and we didn't like to work you up."

  "Please--who are you?"

  "Us? Why, we're Wag-boys! Llewellyn's our pal. I'm Charley Fitzhugh;they call me the Dummy. And this is Thomasville."

  Thomasville nodded and mumbled greetings without removing his thumb fromhis mouth, whereupon June began to express her gratitude. But thanksthrew the Wag-boys into confusion, it seemed, and they quickly bade heran embarrassed good night.

  Now that they had removed the weight of obligation that had rested uponthem, the Wags became more neighborly. Llewellyn and the Scrap Iron Kidcalled to explain that the Dummy and Thomasville had broken all rules offriendship by "hogging the spotlight" and to express their own regret athaving been absent during the attempted hold-up.

  June was eating her midnight lunch when they came, and after they hadleft Llewellyn said:

  "She didn't have any butter, Kid. Notice it?"

  "Sure. Butter's peluk. Rothstein cornered the supply, and he's holdingit for a raise."

  "Where does he keep it?"

  "In that big tent back of his store, along with his other stuff."

  Now, the Wag-boys did nothing by halves. About dusk the following daythe Rothstein watchman was accosted by a stranger who had just muched infrom the creek. The two gossiped for a moment. Then, as the strangermade off, he slipped and fell, injuring himself so painfully that thewatchman was forced to help him down to Kelly's drug-store. Uponreturning from this labor of charity the watchman discovered, to hisamazement and horror, that during his absence two men had entered thetent by means of a six-foot slit in the rear wall. They had brought asled with them, moreover, and had made off with about five hundreddollars' worth of Rothstein's heart's blood, labeled "Cold BrookCreamery, Extra Fine."

  The next morning when June returned to her cabin she found a case ofbutter.

  A few days later the Dummy discovered a string of ptarmigan hangingbeside the rear door of a restaurant, and, desiring to offer June somedelicate little attention, he returned after dark and removed them. Asptarmigan were selling at five dollars a brace, he was careful toprotect the girl; he sat on the back steps of the restaurant and pickedthe birds thoroughly, scattering the feathers with a careless hand.

  Scarcely a day passed that June did not receive something from the Wags,but of course she never dreamed that her gifts had been stolen. As forher admirers, it was the highest mark of their esteem thus to lay at herfeet the choicest fruits of their precarious labors, and, although theywere common thieves--nay, worse than that--they stole rather from loveof excitement than for hope of gain, and the more fantastic theadventure the more it tickled their distorted fancies.

  They were most amusing, and June grew to like them immensely. She beganto mother them in t
he way that pleases all women. She ruled them like afamily of wayward children, she settled their disputes, and theysubmitted with subdued, though extravagant, joy. She asked Llewellynonce about that wound in his arm, but he lied fluently, and she believedhim, for she was not the kind to credit evil of her friends.

  Once they had received encouragement, they fairly monopolized her. Shewas never safe from interruption, for the Wag-boys never slept. Theycame to her cabin singly and collectively at all hours of day or night,during her absence or during her presence, and they never failed toleave something behind them.

  Reddy was a good cook, but he loathed a stove as he loathed a policeman,yet he donned an apron, and at the cost of much profanity and sweatproduced a chocolate cake that would have done credit to a New Englandhousewife. Furthermore, it bore June's name in a beautiful scrollsurrounded by a chocolate wreath, and she found it on her bed when shecame home one morning.

  Chancing to express a liking for oysters in the hearing of the ScrapIron Kid, she mysteriously received a whole case of them when she knewvery well that there were none in camp. Of course she did not dream thatin securing them the Kid had put his person in deadly peril.

  On returning from her duties at another time she found that during thenight the interior walls of her cabin had been painted, and, althoughshe did not want them painted and although the smell gave her a violentheadache, she pretended to be overcome with delight. In order tobeautify her little nest Reddy had burgled a store and stolen all thepaint there was of the particular shade that pleased his eye.

  Now, the Wag-boys pretended to be care-free and happy as time went on.In reality they were gnawed by a secret trouble--it was June's growingfondness for Harry Hope. After careful observation they decided that theP. C. agent would not do at all; he was too wild. He had undeniably losthis head and was gambling heavily, tempted perhaps by the lax moralityof the camp and the license of good times.

  It was the Dummy who finally proposed a means of safeguarding June'swandering affections.

  "Somebody's got to split her away from this Hope," he declared. "It's upto us, and Llewellyn's the only one in her class."

  The Scrap Iron Kid's face assumed an ugly yellow cast as he inquired,quietly, "D'you mean George is to marry her?"

  "Hardly!" exploded the Dummy. "Just toll her away."

  "Why shouldn't I marry her?" Llewellyn demanded.

  "I can think of five reasons," the Kid retorted. He tapped his chestwith his finger. "Here's one, and there's the other four." He pointed tothe other Wag-boys. "D'you think we'd let you marry her? Huh! I'd soonermarry her myself."

  Llewellyn ended the discussion by stamping out of the cabin, cursing hispartners with violence.

  Business of the P. C. Company took Harry Hope to Council City inFebruary; so the Wags felt easier--but only for a time. They found thatJune was grieving for him, and were plunged into deep despair untilScrap Iron came home with the explanation that the lovers had quarreledbefore parting. It was a signal for a celebration during which Reddycooked wildly for a week, making puddings and pies and pastries, most ofwhich were smuggled into June's cabin. Thomasville journeyed out to acertain roadhouse run by a Frenchman, and returned with a case of eggswrapped up in a woolen comforter. It required the combined perjury ofthe other Wags to prove an alibi for him, but June had an omelet everymorning thereafter.

  Then, just as they were weaning her away, as they thought, the blowfell. It came with a crushing force that left them dumb andpanic-stricken. June took pneumonia! The Scrap Iron Kid brought thefirst news of her illness, and he blubbered like a baby, while Dummy,the woman-hater, cursed like a man bereft.

  "How d'you know it's pneumonia?" queried Thomasville.

  "The doc says so. Me 'n' George dropped in with some beefsteaks wecopped from the butcher, and found her in bed, coughing like the devil.She couldn't get up--pains in her boosum. We run for Doc Whitingand--fellers, it's true! George is there now." The Kid swallowedbravely, and two tears rolled down his cheeks.

  The Wag-boys broke out of their cabin on the run, then strung out downthe snow-banked street toward June's cabin, where they found Dr.Whiting, very grave, and Llewellyn with his face blanched and his lipstight drawn. They tiptoed in and stood against the wall in a silent,stricken row, twirling their caps and trying to ease the pain in theirthroats.

  The Wag-lady was indeed very ill. Her yellow hair was tumbled over herpillow and she was in great pain, but she smiled at them and made afeeble jest--which broke in her throat, for she was young and all aloneand very badly frightened. It was too much for the Scrap Iron Kid, whostumbled out into the freezing night and fought with his misery. Hetried to pray, but from long inexperience he fancied he made bad work ofit.

  An hour later they assembled and laid plans to weather the storm.

  "She's worried about her hotel," Llewellyn announced. "If that was offher mind she'd have a better chance."

  "Let's manage it for her," the Dummy offered. "I'll watch it to-night."

  "An' who'll watch you?" queried the Kid.

  "D'you reckon I'd run out on a pal like June?" stormed the Dummy,whereat Scrap Iron assured him he was positive that he would not, forthe very good reason that he and Reddy would take care that noopportunity offered.

  "You run the joint like you say, an' we'll lookout her game for her;then to-morrow night the other three can do it. We'll take turn an' turnabout, an' them that's off shift will nurse her. I've been thinkin'now--if only we knowed something about women folks--"

  "I been married once or twice, if that's any good," Thomasville venturedto confess; whereupon he was elected head nurse by virtue of hisexperience, and accordingly they went to work.

  Dr. Whiting had promised to secure a woman to care for the sick girl,but women were scarce that winter and he was only partly successful, sothe greater portion of the responsibility fell upon the Wags. He alsospoke of removing June to the excuse for a hospital, but they would nothear to this. And so the battle for her life began.

  It was a battle, too, for she grew rapidly worse and soon was delirious,babbling of strange things which tore at the hearts of the Wag-boys. Dayafter day, night after night, she lay racked and tortured, fighting thebrave fight of youth, and through it all the six thieves tended her.They were ever at her side, coming and going like the wraiths of herdistorted fancy, and while three of them divided the day into watchesthe other three ran the bunk-house, keeping strict account of everypenny taken in. They O. K.'d one another's books, and it would havefared badly indeed with any one of them had he allowed the leastdiscrepancy to appear in his reckoning.

  It was a strange scene, this, a sick and friendless girl mothered by agang of crooks. When June's condition improved they rejoiced with a deepferocity that was pitiful; when it grew worse they went about hushed andterror-stricken. Through it all she called incessantly for Harry Hope,and it was Llewellyn who finally volunteered to go to Council City andfetch him--an offer that showed the others he was game.

  But before the weather had settled sufficiently to allow it, Hope came.He arrived one night in a blinding smother which whined down over thetreeless wastes, driving men indoors before its fury. Hearing of June'sillness, he had taken the trail within an hour, fighting his way for ahundred trackless miles through a blizzard that daunted even a Wag-boy,and he showed the marks of battle. His face was bitten deeply by thecold, his dogs were dying in the harness, and it was evident that he hadnot slept for many hours. He whimpered like a child when Llewellyn methim at June's door; then he heard her wearily babbling his name, as shehad done these many, many days, and he went in, kneeling beside her withhis frozen breath still caked upon his parka hood.

  Llewellyn stood by and heard him tenderly calling to the wandering girl,saw the peace that came into her face as something told her he was near;then the Wag-boy who had once been a gentleman came forward and gaveHope his hand, and thanked him for his coming.

  June began to mend after that, and it was not long before Whiting saidshe mi
ght recover if she had proper food. She would, however, neednourishment--milk; but there was only one cow in camp, and other sickpeople, and not sufficient milk to go round. The Wag-boys lumped theirbank-rolls and offered to buy the animal from its owner, but he refused.So they stole the cow and all her fodder.

  Now it is no difficult matter to steal a cow, even in a mining-camp inthe dead of winter, but it is not nearly so easy for a cow to remainstolen under such conditions, and the Wags were hard put to preventdiscovery. It would have been far easier, they realized, to steal atwo-story brick house or a printing-office, and then, too, not one ofthem knew how to secure the milk even after they had gained the cow'sconsent. They made various experiments, however, one of which resultedin Reddy's having the breath rammed out of him, and another causingThomasville to adopt crutches for a day or so. But eventually June gother milk, a gallon of it daily. Every night or two the cow had to bemoved, every day they gagged her to muffle her voice. Then, whendiscovery was imminent, they made terms of surrender, exactingtwenty-five per cent. of the gross output as the consideration for herreturn.

  They breathed much easier when the cow was off their hands.

  Spring was in sight when June became strong enough to take up herduties, and she was surprised to find her hotel running as usual, also aflour-sack full of currency beneath her bed, together with a set ofbooks showing her receipts. It was signed by Llewellyn and witnessed bythe other Wags. There was no record of disbursements.

  One day Whiting advised her to get out in the air, and the Scrap IronKid volunteered to take her for a dog ride.

  "I didn't know you had a team," she said.

  "Who? Me? Sure! I got as good a team as ever you see," he declared, andwhen she accepted his invitation he proceeded to get his dogs togetherin a startling manner. He tied a soup-bone on a string and walked theback streets; then, when he beheld a likely-looking husky, he draggedthe bone behind him, enticing the animal by degrees to the Wag-boys'cabin, where he promptly tied it up. He repeated the performance seventimes. The matter of harness and sled was but a detail; so June enjoyeda ride that put pink roses into her cheeks and gave the Scrap Iron Kid afeeling of pure, exalted joy such as he had never felt in all hisadventurous career.

  The day she walked over to the Wag house unassisted was one of such wildrejoicing that she was forced to tell them shyly of her own happiness, ahappiness so new that as yet she could scarcely credit it. She was to beMrs. Harry Hope, and asked them to wish her joy.

  Llewellyn made a speech that evoked the admiration of them all, even tothe Kid, who was miserably jealous, and June went home with her heartvery warm and tender toward these six adventurers who had been so trueto her.

  It was to be expected that Hope would share in his sweetheart'sextravagant gladness, for he loved her deeply, with all the force of hisbig, strong nature, yet he acted strangely as time went on. Now he wassad and worried, again he seemed tortured by a lurking disquietude ofspirit. This alarmed the Wag-lady, and she set out to find the secret ofhis trouble.

  The ice was breaking when he made a clean breast of it, and when he hadfinished June felt that her heart was breaking also. It was thecommonplace story of a young man tempted beyond his strength. Hope'spopularity had made him a host of friends, while his generosity had made"no" a difficult answer. He had plunged into excesses during the earlywinter; gambled wildly, not to win, but for the fun of it. He had lostcompany money, trusting to his ability to make it good from his ownpocket when the time came. The time was coming, and his pockets wereempty. Spring was here, the first boats would arrive any day, and withthem would come the P. C. men to audit his accounts. It was possible tocover it up, to be sure, but he scorned to falsify his books.

  "I should have stayed in Council City," he said, "but when I heard youwere--sick--" He buried his brown face in his hands.

  The girl's lips were white as she asked, "How much is it?"

  "Nearly twenty thousand."

  She shook her head hopelessly. "I haven't nearly that much, Harry, butperhaps they would let us pay off the balance as we are able."

  "June!" he cried. "I wouldn't let you! I'll go to jail first! I--Isuppose you won't want to marry me, now that you know?"

  "I love you more than twenty thousand dollars' worth," she replied."We'll face it out together."

  "If only I had time I could pay it back and they'd never know, for Ihave property that will sell, once the season opens."

  "Then you must take time."

  "I can't. Sternberg will tell."

  "What has Sternberg to do with it?"

  "I lost the money in his place--his books will show. He suspects, evennow, and he's talking about it. He doesn't like me, you know, since heheard of our engagement."

  The days fled swiftly by; the hills thrust their scarred sides upthrough the melting snow; the open sea showed black beyond the rim ofanchor ice. As nature awoke and blossomed, June faded and shrank untilshe was no more than the ghost of her former self. Then one day smokewas reported upon the horizon, and the town became a bedlam; for thedoor of the frozen North was creaking on its hinges, and just beyond laythe good, glad world of men and things.

  June could stand it no longer; so she told her sorrow to Llewellyn, whohad half guessed it, anyhow, and he in turn retold it to hisfellow-Wags.

  The Scrap Iron Kid was for killing Hope at once, and argued that it wasby far the simplest way out of June's trouble, carrying with it also anagreeable element of retribution. Hope had hurt the Wag-lady, thereforethe least atonement he could offer was his blood. But Dummy, the foxyold alibi man of the outfit, said:

  "I've got a better scheme. Hope wants to do the right thing, and June'llmake him if she has a chance. The company will get its coin, she'll gether square guy, an' nobody'll be hurt, provided he has time to swinghimself. The ace in the hole is Sammy Sternberg; he's got the books. Nowwhat's the answer?"

  "Steal the books!" chorused the Wags; and Dummy smiled.

  "Why, sure."

  "You can't stick up no saloon full of rough-necks and sleepers," saidScrap Iron. "Sammy caches his books in the safe when he's off shift, andwe can't blow the safe, 'cause the joint never closes."

  But the Dummy only grinned, for this was the sort of job he liked, andthen he proceeded to make known his plan.

  Those were terrible hours for June. She prayed with all the earnestnessof her earnest being that her lover might be spared; repeatedly shestrained her tear-filled eyes to the southward. As for Hope, he hadtasted the consequences of his guilt, and his face grew lined andhaggard with the strain of waiting. He could have met the future withsome show of resignation had it not been for the knowledge of hissweetheart's suffering; but as the hours passed and that thin black lineof soot still hung upon the horizon, he thought he would go mad.

  On the second day a steamer showed, hull down, having wormed her waythrough the floes, and Nome marched out upon the shore ice in a body.

  June and Harry went with the others, hand in hand, and the man walked asif he were marching to the gallows. It was not the P. C. steamer, afterall; it was the whaler _Jeanie_. The fleet was in the offing, however,so she reported, and would be in within another twenty-four hours, ifthe pack kept drifting.

  Hope ground his teeth, and muttered: "Poor little June! I wish it wereover for your sake!" and she nodded wearily.

  But as they neared the shore again they heard rumors of strange doingsin their absence. There had been a daring daylight hold-up at theMiners' Rest. Six masked men had taken advantage of the exodus to enterand clean out the place at the point of the gun, and now Sammy Sternbergwas poisoning the air with his complaints.

  Details came flying faster as they trudged up into Front Street, and DocWhiting paused to say:

  "That's the nerviest thing yet, eh, Harry?"

  "Was anybody hurt?"

  "No damage done except to Sammy's feelings."

  "They surely didn't get much money?"

  "Oh, no! Their total clean-up wasn't a hundred dollars;
but they luggedoff Sammy's books."

  June felt herself falling, and grasped weakly at her lover's arm, forshe saw it all. "Come!" she said, and dragged him up to her own cabin,then on to the Wag-boys' door. They were all there, sprawled about andsmoking.

  "You did this!" she said, shakingly. "You did it for me!"

  "Did what?" they asked in chorus, looking at her blankly.

  "Oh, we know," said Harry Hope. "You've given me a chance--and I'll makegood!" His own voice sounded strange in his ears.

  There was an instant's awkward pause, and then the Scrap Iron Kid said,simply, "You'd better!" and the others nodded.

  Llewellyn spoke up, saying, "Reddy is our regular chef; but I'd like tohave you see me cook a goose." Then he drew from his inside pocket whatseemed to be a leaf torn from a ledger, and, unfolding it, he struck amatch, then lighted it.

  "I suppose I ought to be a man and face the music," Hope managed tostutter, "but I'm going to cheat the ends of justice for June's sake.I'm much obliged to you."

  When they had gone off, hand in hand, the Scrap Iron Kid noddedapprovingly to George, saying, "That was sure some cookin' you did,pal."

  And Llewellyn answered, "Yes, I cooked your goose and mine, but she'llbe happy, anyhow."

  "MAN PROPOSES--"

  THE STORY OF A MAN WHO WANTED TO DIE