cached some grub in fifteen-mile spaces and they've got to keep humping or they'll get hungry."
Rickey regarded the serious-faced boy for a full minute. "Well I'll be doggoned!" he howled, bursting into a roar of laughter. "Lettin' prisoners bring in theirselves! Ow! My gran'mother! But how did you"
"They ain't prisoners!" Connie hastened to explain. "You see, I didn't arrest 'em."
"But what's the idee of makin' 'em bring in the dogs?"
"Those were good dogs," answered the boy, gravely. "They never knew what it was to quit. They died in the service. They're going to be buried right here in decent graves. And the men that killed 'em are going to bury 'em. You see, if I had arrested those men I couldn't make 'em work."
The next morning the MacPherson patrol came in, and three days later, when the whole outfit pulled out for Dawson, they had in charge four very sore and dejected prisoners. As they strung out onto the trail, Special Constable Connie Morgan dropped back, removed his cap, and turned for one last look at the cabin beside which
