you where you'll find some grub caches if you happen to be going that way."
"We can't make no fifteen mile a day. Not with no deck cargo o' dead dogs."
"Then you won't eat so often," answered Connie. "So long! I must be going."
It was long after dark the next night when Connie pushed open the door of the Hart River cabin. Rickey lay on the bunk and stared in surprise as the boy unloaded the missing supplies.
"Where's the rest of your dogs?" he asked.
"Poisoned!" answered the boy laconically.
"But how did you git the grub?"
"Outguessed 'em."
"But didn't they have no guns? An' where are they at?"
"Yeh, they had guns," answered Connie, "but I took 'em away from 'em. They'll be along day after tomorrow. They're travelling kind of slow, 'cause they got a big load and a bad sled. But they'll get here."
"But who's with 'em? Who's bringin' 'em in?" persisted Rickey.
"Oh, they're just coming of their own accord. You see there's no place else for 'em to go. I
