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Updated: May 25, 2025
They were strong and hardy fellows, and although frost covered their clothing and hung in icicles about their faces, they ran contentedly behind the dog-teams in the semi-darkness, as only the snow-light remained. "Hello!" called out Swanson finally to his companion. "Is that the place, do you think?" pointing to the dim shape of a log cabin a little ahead. "Guess it is, but we'll find out.
He steadied himself and said into the speaking grille: "I am Eliot Leithgow Master Scientist Eliot Leithgow. Once you knew me. Professors Geinst, Estapp and Norman, Dr. Swanson and Master Scientist Cram do you remember me? Do you remember how once we worked together; how, long ago on our Earth, we were friends? Do you remember your old colleague, Leithgow?" He stopped, deeply shaken.
"It is not well that our brother should be tied that way," and drawing his keen knife, he cut the thongs, and Swanson freed his arms. His arms free, all of Swanson's courage returned. Hastily glancing around the circle, he suddenly shot out his right arm. Reeling backward, Eagle Claw fell to the ground, and the Indians saw something pass them like the wind, straight for the pony herd.
"Well, how do you know but that man Swanson saw him when he went in?" "I don't know it," replied Merrick. "But even if he did see Percival go in, these 'Mergency men won't never say a word to me about it, kase they know well enough that if they should hurt a hair of my head, some of my friends would bushwhack 'em to pay for it.
His face flushed, his eyes hardening. "Ay ban Nels Swanson!" he exploded, beating the air with clenched fist. "Ay ban Lutheran! Ay ban shovel-man by Meester Burke. Ay get two tollar saxty cint! Ay not give won tamn for you! Ay lick de fellar vot ask me dot again!" The sheriff stared at him, much as he might have examined a new and peculiar specimen of bug.
This being the case with the Juggins boy it was not to be wondered at that there could be traced a vein of actual gratification in his voice when he suddenly electrified his companions by exclaiming: "Hugh! fellows, I tell you I saw it right then, just as that Swanson farmhand vowed to me he did once on a time this last summer it was a light, waved up and down, back and forth, and just like they teach you when you join the Signal Corps, and learn how to wigwag with a flag or a lantern.
He had long been suspected of such methods of procuring his stock, but so cunningly had he managed to cover his tracks that he had escaped being caught lip to this time. His day of punishment had arrived, and his executioners were gathered around the ranche awaiting his return. The cowboy had failed to find him, and the early morning found Swanson returning home.
High above his head the strands of the wireless, swinging from the towering masts like the strings of a giant Aeolian harp, were swept by the wind from the ocean. To Swanson the sighing and whispering wires sang in praise and thanksgiving. The God of Coincidence is fortunate in possessing innumerable press agents. They have made the length of his arm a proverb.
There was Oscar Swanson, heavy, slow-moving, blond as Harold Haarfagar, a veritable Scandinavian colossus; Wyndham, clean-bred, clean-built, an English gentleman to his fingers' tips; old Ike James, whose tongue carried the idiom and soft-slurring drawl of his native South; Eugéne Brulé, three parts Quebec French and one part Cree; Carter, O'Gara, Bullen, Westwick, and half a dozen others.
Beneath the witching spell of her eyes the man's cheeks reddened. He took the way of savagery out of unexpected embarrassment. "Th-that 's enough, now, Swanson," he commanded, the stutter largely vanishing before the requirement of deeds. "Th-this is no c-continuous vaudeville, an' ther curtain's rung d-down on yer act.
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