the outstretched hand of the boy. "I'll take him in, all right," he said. "They might be some chanst that strawberries'll be ripe along this here river tomorrow, but they ain't no chanst I won't take Brek Wiley into Headquarters—an' don't you ferget it! So long, kid. We'll sure miss you back here. You've done some big things over here in the Yukon—things that'll be remembered an' talked about. But they's other things—things that mebbe won't be talked about, that you've done. An' mebbe them things is bigger than the ones that is. An' say, kid," he added, as Connie swung his dogs toward Eagle, "whenever you get one of them hunches—you play it—see!"
Finding the police station at Fortymile vacant, Connie took the receiver from the hook, called Headquarters, and for an hour held earnest conversation with the Superintendent.
Late the following evening Constable Peters turned Brek Wiley over to the officer in charge of the guard room and proceeded to make out his report. At its conclusion he noticed that a light still burned in the office of the Superintendent. He opened the door and crossing to the desk saluted and turned in his report. The grey-
