"Good-by, Tess," he said, standing at the open door.
She turned on him, struggling for speech but too frantic to word the passion that burned in her.
"Good-by, Tess," he repeated gently.
"Beast!" she managed to articulate.
She turned and tottered to the bunk, flinging herself face down upon it, sobbing: "You beasts! You beasts!"
John Messner closed the door softly behind him, and, as he started the dogs, looked back at the cabin with a great relief in his face. At the bottom of the bank, beside the water-hole, he halted the sled. He worked the sack of gold out between the lashings and carried it to the water-hole. Already a new skin of ice had formed. This he broke with his fist. Untying the knotted mouth with his teeth, he emptied the contents of the sack into the water. The river wa
