They tried the trick, and, doubling back around the second corner, encountered Saltman swinging a long trail-stride in pursuit.
"Hello, Bill," Smoke greeted. "Which way?"
"Hello. Just a-strollin'," Saltman answered, "just a-strollin'. Weather's fine, ain't it?"
"Huh!" Shorty jeered. "If you call that strollin', what might you walk real fast at?"
When Shorty fed the dogs that evening, he was keenly conscious that from the encircling darkness a dozen pairs of eyes were boring in upon him. And when he stick-tied the dogs, instead of letting them forage free through the night, he knew that he had administered another jolt to the nervousness of Dawson.
According to program, Smoke ate supper downtown and then proceeded to enjoy himself. Wherever he appeared, he was the center of interest, a
