e blue and gray plane that was carrying
plained as he read the worry wrinkles on the girl's
loved that word. Would she ever
air. One more half hour and their skis touch
. "Just in time for a feast. Tim Barber got a deer yesterd
dam Chi
your mother, milked the cow, fed the horse, hauled wood, everything. And now," he laughed, "I think she
-" Mary
er kettle, golden candlest
oth her hands. "How goo
k, David," Mary blush
anded in a bantering tone. "
aid with a friendly smile. "A
" Bill shuddered. "I'm off with th
ay not want to be a pioneer, but you'll be one all the same. The snow-peaked mountains, the timber that
t." For once Bill's fac
delicious odor of roast venison greeted their nostrils. Over that venison, now turning i
at Anchorage, shone. "Going with the Bowmans? Why, that's splendid. They are old friends of
son, beamed on Florence as they entered the small parlor to awai
o,
girl for that country. Healthy! Look at her c
Bowman, a large, ruddy-faced man, l
tted timidly. "But first I
rs. Bowman stared at
s,
dly. "This is Tom Kennedy's granddaughter
my dear," the
nce's mind went into a wild whirl. "I am
e. But such things do happen. Shall we
orward, "your grandfather is a
lorence stare
years. Found gold once and lost it again to save his partner's life. Yes, a prospector, but a long beard, hair to the shoulders,
in. "Never drinks a drop. I
ne, "he's doing a truly wonderful thing. He's got
oo," Mr. Bow
dog-teams, long, moonlit trails, the search for gold. He's tryi
think they'll win," he laughed good-naturedly. "Of course they won't. Smitty Vale
ted in that race, made them think they can win. They've put their best dogs together into a team. A boy named Jodie Joleson is going to drive it. I surely wish they
Club," Bowman explained. "
t they call the 'Fresh Dough Club' o
n at the table." It was their hostess who brough
e whispered to herself. "How st
e. I wonder how it will end?" How indeed? Seldom does a girl go in search of her grandfather. And how her ideas of that grandfather had changed! She had always known, in a sketchy manner, the story of he
hard for him. When at last life under his own roof became unbe
n the way, a letter reached him, saying that his wife was dead and that, without his cons
t Alaska," Florence thought, with a tightening at the throat,
ow here he was, not rich, but loved and respected. She was going to him. The large gray plane, drumming steadily onward, carried her over b
little breathless, but quite determined, she stood at th
large, hearty
at she lifted the iron latch, push
matched his well-trimmed beard, rose hastily to his feet. "I tho
was low with emotion. "I-I am Flo
aking a step backward, he drew a hand ac
d a wife. She was beautiful.... I loved her.... She died.... All t
hanged. The notion seemed unreal but pleas
e tried to smile, "
ong and earnestly. "Big for a girl," h
rence admit
es brightened, "yes, we do look alike. Welcome, child! Welcome to your grandfa
. "You must meet them all, meet them and get to know them. They're a fine lot, my gang. Fi
ith a smile, "I am sure i
r grandfather, and at once a whole n