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He was leaning on the trailer's shoulder and waiting for his turn in the line in front of the ticket window, when a tall, gawky, good- looking country lad sprang out of it and at him with an expression of surprise and anxiety. "Father," he said, "father, what's wrong? What are you doing here? Is anybody ill at home? Are you ill?"
He replied: "I'm not going to try anything wild, but I do intend to master the trailer's craft." "I'll teach you how to camp, if you'll let me," she continued. "I've been on lots of surveys with father, and I always take my share of the work. I threw that hitch alone." She nodded toward the pack-horse, whose neat load gave evidence of her skill.
Close to the trail Jim saw the fresh remains of a camp-fire beside the deep marks of a sled's runners. "Well, an' what of it?" said he to Jan, sharply. "'Tain't the first time you've struck another man's trail, is it? What 'n the nation ails ye to be so het up about it, anyway?" And then, with his practised trailer's eyes he began to examine these tracks himself. "H'm!
They wouldn't get on to you there at all. If you go, be sure and come this way. Your father went to Denver from here have you heard from him?" There was deep commotion in the trailer's brain that night. The hope he had was too sacredly sweet to put into words the hope that she still thought of him and longed for him.
Furthermore, I can testify, and can bring a competent witness, that while supposed to be estimating Government timber in the Basin, you were in communication with Pollock." "Saleratus Bill!" cried Bob, enlightened as to the trailer's recent activities in the Basin. "It will be easy to establish not only Pollock's guilt, but your own as accessory.
It was their living, and MacRae would not pass them up because their catch meant no profit compared to the time he spent and the fuel he burned making this round. He would drive straight up the Gulf from Bellingham to Squitty, circle the Island and then across to the mouth of the Solomon. The weather was growing cool now. Salmon would keep unspoiled a long time in a trailer's hold.
Trailer's motley crew catch a sniff of the trail and disappear in the darkness of the brushy woods, baying, barking, yelping, squealing, each after its kind. After them go the whooping hunters, following by ear as the dogs do by nose, for none can use the sense of sight.
To this the ranger made vocal answer, and they could soon see him moving athwart the hillsides, zigzagging in the trailer's fashion, dropping down with incredible swiftness. He was alone, and leading his horse, but his celerity of movement and the tones of his voice denoted confidence and health. The doctor laughed as he said: "I don't think a very sick man could come down a mountain like that."
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