“Danged if I know,” came the disconsolate3 answer. “Wisht I did. They ain't nothin' to take me anywheres. I've set two hours in the deadest game of draw—nothing excitin', no hands, an' broke even. Played a rubber of cribbage with Skiff Mitchell for the drinks, an' now I'm that languid for somethin' doin' that I'm perambulatin' the streets on the chance of seein' a dogfight, or a argument, or somethin'.”
“I've got something better on hand,” Smoke answered. “That's why I was looking for you. Come on along.”
“Now?”
“Sure.”
“Where to?”
“Across the river to make a call on old Dwight Sanderson.”
“Never heard of him,” Shorty said dejectedly. “An' never heard of no one living across the river anyway. What's he want to live there for? Ain't he got no sense?”
“He's got something to sell,” Smoke laughed.
“Dogs? A gold-mine? Tobacco? Rubber boots?”
Smoke shook his head to each question. “Come along on and find out, because I'm going to buy it from him on a spec, and if you want you can come in half.”
“Don't tell me it's eggs!” Shorty cried, his face twisted into an expression of facetious4 and sarcastic5 alarm.
“Come on along,” Smoke told him. “And I'll give you ten guesses while we're crossing the ice.”
They dipped down the high bank at the foot of the street and came out upon the ice-covered Yukon. Three-quarters of a mile away, directly opposite, the other bank of the stream uprose in precipitous bluffs7 hundreds of feet in height. Toward these bluffs, winding8 and twisting in and out among broken and upthrown blocks of ice, ran a slightly traveled trail. Shorty trudged9 at Smoke's heels, beguiling10 the time with guesses at what Dwight Sanderson had to sell.
“Reindeer? Copper-mine or brick-yard? That's one guess. Bear-skins, or any kind of skins? Lottery11 tickets? A potato-ranch?”
“Getting near it,” Smoke encouraged. “And better than that.”
“Two potato-ranches? A cheese-factory? A moss-farm?”
“That's not so bad, Shorty. It's not a thousand miles away.”
“That's as near as the moss-farm and the potato-ranch.”
“Hold on. Let me think. I got one guess comin'.” Ten silent minutes passed. “Say, Smoke, I ain't goin' to use that last guess. When this thing you're buyin' sounds like a potato-ranch, a moss-farm, and a stone-quarry, I quit. An' I don't go in on the deal till I see it an' size it up. What is it?”
“Well, you'll see the cards on the table soon enough. Kindly13 cast your eyes up there. Do you see the smoke from that cabin? That's where Dwight Sanderson lives. He's holding down a town-site location.”
“What else is he holdin' down?”
“That's all,” Smoke laughed. “Except rheumatism14. I hear he's been suffering from it.”
“Say!” Shorty's hand flashed out and with an abrupt15 shoulder grip brought his comrade to a halt. “You ain't telling me you're buyin' a town-site at this fallin'-off place?”
“That's your tenth guess, and you win. Come on.”
“But wait a moment,” Shorty pleaded. “Look at it—nothin' but bluffs an' slides, all up-and-down. Where could the town stand?”
“Search me.”
“Then you ain't buyin' it for a town?”
“But Dwight Sanderson's selling it for a town,” Smoke baffled. “Come on. We've got to climb this slide.”
The slide was steep, and a narrow trail zigzagged17 up it on a formidable Jacob's ladder. Shorty moaned and groaned18 over the sharp corners and the steep pitches.
“Think of a town-site here. They ain't a flat space big enough for a postage-stamp. An' it's the wrong side of the river. All the freightin' goes the other way. Look at Dawson there. Room to spread for forty thousand more people. Say, Smoke. You're a meat-eater. I know that. An' I know you ain't buyin' it for a town. Then what in Heaven's name are you buyin' it for?”
“To sell, of course.”
“But other folks ain't as crazy as old man Sanderson an' you.”
“Maybe not in the same way, Shorty. Now I'm going to take this town-site, break it up in parcels, and sell it to a lot of sane20 people who live over in Dawson.”
“Huh! All Dawson's still laughing at you an' me an' them eggs. You want to make 'em laugh some more, hey?”
“I certainly do.”
“But it's too danged expensive, Smoke. I helped you make 'em laugh on the eggs, an' my share of the laugh cost me nearly nine thousan' dollars.”
“All right. You don't have to come in on this. The profits will be all mine, but you've got to help me just the same.”
“Oh, I'll help all right. An' they can laugh at me some more. But nary a ounce do I drop this time.
“What's old Sanderson holdin' it at? A couple of hundred?”
“Ten thousand. I ought to get it for five.”
“What for?”
“So I could preach the gosh-dangdest, eloquentest sermon on a text you may have hearn—to wit: a fool an' his money.”
“Come in,” they heard Dwight Sanderson yell irritably22, when they knocked at his door, and they entered to find him squatted23 by a stone fireplace and pounding coffee wrapped in a piece of flour-sacking.
“What d'ye want?” he demanded harshly, emptying the pounded coffee into the coffee-pot that stood on the coals near the front of the fireplace.
“To talk business,” Smoke answered. “You've a town-site located here, I understand. What do you want for it?”
“Ten thousand dollars,” came the answer. “And now that I've told you, you can laugh, and get out. There's the door. Good-by.”
“But I don't want to laugh. I know plenty of funnier things to do than to climb up this cliff of yours. I want to buy your town-site.”
“You do, eh? Well, I'm glad to hear sense.” Sanderson came over and sat down facing his visitors, his hands resting on the table and his eyes cocking apprehensively24 toward the coffee-pot. “I've told you my price, and I ain't ashamed to tell you again—ten thousand. And you can laugh or buy, it's all one to me.”
To show his indifference25 he drummed with his knobby knuckles26 on the table and stared at the coffee-pot. A minute later he began to hum a monotonous27 “Tra-la-loo, tra-la-lee, tra-la-lee, tra-la-loo.”
“Now look here, Mr. Sanderson,” said Smoke. “This town-site isn't worth ten thousand. If it was worth that much it would be worth a hundred thousand just as easily. If it isn't worth a hundred thousand—and you know it isn't—then it isn't worth ten cents.”
Sanderson drummed with his knuckles and hummed, “Tra-la-loo, tra-la-lee,” until the coffee-pot boiled over. Settling it with a part cup of cold water, and placing it to one side of the warm hearth28, he resumed his seat. “How much will you offer?” he asked of Smoke.
“Five thousand.”
Shorty groaned.
“You ain't no fool,” Sanderson announced to Smoke. “You said if it wasn't worth a hundred thousand it wasn't worth ten cents. Yet you offer five thousand for it. Then it IS worth a hundred thousand.”
“You can't make twenty cents out of it,” Smoke replied heatedly. “Not if you stayed here till you rot.”
“I'll make it out of you.”
“No, you won't.”
“Then I reckon I'll stay an' rot,” Sanderson answered with an air of finality.
He took no further notice of his guests, and went about his culinary tasks as if he were alone. When he had warmed over a pot of beans and a slab30 of sour-dough bread, he set the table for one and proceeded to eat.
“No, thank you,” Shorty murmured. “We ain't a bit hungry. We et just before we come.”
“Let's see your papers,” Smoke said at last. Sanderson fumbled31 under the head of his bunk32 and tossed out a package of documents. “It's all tight and right,” he said. “That long one there, with the big seals, come all the way from Ottawa. Nothing territorial33 about that. The national Canadian government cinches me in the possession of this town-site.”
“None of your business,” Sanderson answered sourly. “There ain't no law against a man living alone on his town-site if he wants to.”
“I'll give you five thousand,” Smoke said. Sanderson shook his head.
“I don't know which is the craziest,” Shorty lamented35. “Come outside a minute, Smoke. I want to whisper to you.”
Reluctantly Smoke yielded to his partner's persuasions36.
“Ain't it never entered your head,” Shorty said, as they stood in the snow outside the door, “that they's miles an' miles of cliffs on both sides of this fool town-site that don't belong to nobody an' that you can have for the locatin' and stakin'?”
“They won't do,” Smoke answered.
“Why won't they?”
“It makes you wonder, with all those miles and miles, why I'm buying this particular spot, doesn't it?”
“It sure does,” Shorty agreed.
“And that's the very point,” Smoke went on triumphantly37. “If it makes you wonder, it will make others wonder. And when they wonder they'll come a-running. By your own wondering you prove it's sound psychology38. Now, Shorty, listen to me; I'm going to hand Dawson a package that will knock the spots out of the egg-laugh. Come on inside.”
“Hello,” said Sanderson, as they re-entered. “I thought I'd seen the last of you.”
“Now what is your lowest figure?” Smoke asked.
“Twenty thousand.”
“I'll give you ten thousand.”
“All right, I'll sell at that figure. It's all I wanted in the first place. But when will you pay the dust over?”
“To-morrow, at the Northwest Bank. But there are two other things I want for that ten thousand. In the first place, when you receive your money you pull down the river to Forty Mile and stay there the rest of the winter.”
“That's easy. What else?”
“I'm agreeable.” Sanderson turned to Shorty. “Folks said I was a fool when I come over here an' town-sited,” he jeered40. “Well, I'm a ten thousand dollar fool, ain't I?”
“The Klondike's sure full of fools,” was all Shorty could retort, “an' when they's so many of 'em some has to be lucky, don't they?”
Next morning the legal transfer of Dwight Sanderson's town-site was made—“henceforth to be known as the town-site of Tra-Lee,” Smoke incorporated in the deed. Also, at the Northwest Bank, twenty-five thousand of Smoke's gold was weighed out by the cashier, while half a dozen casual onlookers41 noted42 the weighing, the amount, and the recipient43.
In a mining-camp all men are suspicious. Any untoward44 act of any man is likely to be the cue to a secret gold strike, whether the untoward act be no more than a hunting trip for moose or a stroll after dark to observe the aurora45 borealis. And when it became known that so prominent a figure as Smoke Bellew had paid twenty-five thousand dollars to old Dwight Sanderson, Dawson wanted to know what he had paid it for. What had Dwight Sanderson, starving on his abandoned town-site, ever owned that was worth twenty-five thousand? In lieu of an answer, Dawson was justified46 in keeping Smoke in feverish47 contemplation.
By mid-afternoon it was common knowledge that several score of men had made up light stampeding-packs and cached them in the convenient saloons along Main Street. Wherever Smoke moved, he was the observed of many eyes. And as proof that he was taken seriously, not one man of the many of his acquaintance had the effrontery48 to ask him about his deal with Dwight Sanderson. On the other hand, no one mentioned eggs to Smoke. Shorty was under similar surveillance and delicacy49 of friendliness50.
“Makes me feel like I'd killed somebody, or had smallpox51, the way they watch me an' seem afraid to speak,” Shorty confessed, when he chanced to meet Smoke in front of the Elkhorn. “Look at Bill Saltman there acrost the way—just dyin' to look, an' keepin' his eyes down the street all the time. Wouldn't think he'd knowed you an' me existed, to look at him. But I bet you the drinks, Smoke, if you an' me flop52 around the corner quick, like we was goin' somewheres, an' then turn back from around the next corner, that we run into him a-hikin' hell-bent.”
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 forage53 free through the night, he knew that he had administered another jolt54 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, and he purposely made the rounds. Saloons filled up after his entrance and emptied following upon his departure. If he bought a stack of chips at a sleepy roulette-table, inside five minutes a dozen players were around him. He avenged56 himself, in a small way, on Lucille Arral, by getting up and sauntering out of the Opera House just as she came on to sing her most popular song. In three minutes two-thirds of her audience had vanished after him.
At one in the morning he walked along an unusually populous57 Main Street and took the turning that led up the hill to his cabin. And when he paused on the ascent58, he could hear behind him the crunch59 of moccasins in the snow.
For an hour the cabin was in darkness, then he lighted a candle, and, after a delay sufficient for a man to dress in, he and Shorty opened the door and began harnessing the dogs. As the light from the cabin flared60 out upon them and their work, a soft whistle went up from not far away. This whistle was repeated down the hill.
“Listen to it,” Smoke chuckled61. “They've relayed on us and are passing the word down to town. I'll bet you there are forty men right now rolling out of their blankets and climbing into their pants.”
“Ain't folks fools,” Shorty giggled62 back. “Say, Smoke, they ain't nothin' in hard graft63. A geezer that'd work his hands these days is a—well, a geezer. The world's sure bustin' full an' dribblin' over the edges with fools a-honin' to be separated from their dust. An' before we start down the hill I want to announce, if you're still agreeable, that I come in half on this deal.”
The sled was lightly loaded with a sleeping- and a grub-outfit. A small coil of steel cable protruded64 inconspicuously from underneath65 a grub-sack, while a crowbar lay half hidden along the bottom of the sled next to the lashings.
Shorty fondled the cable with a swift-passing mitten66, and gave a last affectionate touch to the crowbar. “Huh!” he whispered. “I'd sure do some tall thinking myself if I seen them objects on a sled on a dark night.”
They drove the dogs down the hill with cautious silence, and when, emerged on the flat, they turned the team north along Main Street toward the sawmill and directly away from the business part of town, they observed even greater caution. They had seen no one, yet when this change of direction was initiated67, out of the dim starlit darkness behind arose a whistle. Past the sawmill and the hospital, at lively speed, they went for a quarter of a mile. Then they turned about and headed back over the ground they had just covered. At the end of the first hundred yards they barely missed colliding with five men racing68 along at a quick dog-trot. All were slightly stooped to the weight of stampeding-packs. One of them stopped Smoke's lead-dog, and the rest clustered around.
“Seen a sled goin' the other way?” was asked.
“Nope,” Smoke answered. “Is that you, Bill?”
“Well, I'll be danged!” Bill Saltman ejaculated in honest surprise. “If it ain't Smoke!”
“What are you doing out this time of night?” Smoke inquired. “Strolling?”
Before Bill Saltman could make reply, two running men joined the group. These were followed by several more, while the crunch of feet on the snow heralded69 the imminent70 arrival of many others.
“Who are your friends?” Smoke asked. “Where's the stampede?”
Saltman, lighting71 his pipe, which was impossible for him to enjoy with lungs panting from the run, did not reply. The ruse72 of the match was too obviously for the purpose of seeing the sled to be misunderstood, and Smoke noted every pair of eyes focus on the coil of cable and the crowbar. Then the match went out.
“You might let Shorty and me in on it,” Smoke urged.
Somebody snickered sarcastically76 in the background.
“Where are YOU bound?” Saltman demanded.
“And who are you?” Smoke countered. “Committee of safety?”
“Just interested, just interested,” Saltman said.
“Say,” Shorty put in, “I wonder who's feelin' the foolishest?”
“Come on, Shorty; we'll be getting along,” Smoke said, mushing the dogs.
The crowd formed in behind and followed.
“Say, ain't you-all made a mistake?” Shorty gibed79. “When we met you you was goin', an' now you're comin' without bein' anywheres. Have you lost your tag?”
“You go to the devil,” was Saltman's courtesy. “We go and come just as we danged feel like. We don't travel with tags.”
And the sled, with Smoke in the lead and Shorty at the pole, went on down Main Street escorted by three score men, each of whom, on his back, bore a stampeding-pack. It was three in the morning, and only the all-night rounders saw the procession and were able to tell Dawson about it next day.
Half an hour later, the hill was climbed and the dogs unharnessed at the cabin door, the sixty stampeders grimly attendant.
“Good-night, fellows,” Smoke called, as he closed the door.
In five minutes the candle was put out, but before half an hour had passed Smoke and Shorty emerged softly, and without lights began harnessing the dogs.
“Can't shake you, Bill, I see,” Smoke replied cheerfully. “Where're your friends?”
“Gone to have a drink. They left me to keep an eye on you, and keep it I will. What's in the wind anyway, Smoke? You can't shake us, so you might as well let us in. We're all your friends. You know that.”
“There are times when you can let your friends in,” Smoke evaded82, “and times when you can't. And, Bill, this is one of the times when we can't. You'd better go to bed. Good-night.”
“Ain't goin' to be no good-night, Smoke. You don't know us. We're woodticks.”
Smoke sighed. “Well, Bill, if you WILL have your will, I guess you'll have to have it. Come on, Shorty, we can't fool around any longer.”
Saltman emitted a shrill83 whistle as the sled started, and swung in behind. From down the hill and across the flat came the answering whistles of the relays. Shorty was at the gee-pole, and Smoke and Saltman walked side by side.
“Look here, Bill,” Smoke said. “I'll make you a proposition. Do you want to come in alone on this?”
Saltman did not hesitate. “An' throw the gang down? No, sir. We'll all come in.”
“You first, then,” Smoke exclaimed, lurching into a clinch84 and tipping the other into deep snow beside the trail.
Shorty hawed the dogs and swung the team to the south on the trail that led among the scattered85 cabins on the rolling slopes to the rear of Dawson. Smoke and Saltman, locked together, rolled in the snow. Smoke considered himself in gilt-edged condition, but Saltman outweighed86 him by fifty pounds of clean, trail-hardened muscle and repeatedly mastered him. Time and time again he got Smoke on his back, and Smoke lay complacently87 and rested. But each time Saltman attempted to get off him and get away, Smoke reached out a detaining, tripping hand that brought about a new clinch and wrestle88.
“You can go some,” Saltman acknowledged, panting at the end of ten minutes, as he sat astride Smoke's chest. “But I down you every time.”
“And I hold you every time,” Smoke panted back. “That's what I'm here for, just to hold you. Where do you think Shorty's getting to all this time?”
Saltman made a wild effort to go clear, and all but succeeded. Smoke gripped his ankle and threw him in a headlong tumble. From down the hill came anxious questioning whistles. Saltman sat up and whistled a shrill answer, and was grappled by Smoke, who rolled him face upward and sat astride his chest, his knees resting on Saltman's biceps, his hands on Saltman's shoulders and holding him down. And in this position the stampeders found them. Smoke laughed and got up.
“Well, good-night, fellows,” he said, and started down the hill, with sixty exasperated89 and grimly determined90 stampeders at his heels.
He turned north past the sawmill and the hospital and took the river trail along the precipitous bluffs at the base of Moosehide Mountain. Circling the Indian village, he held on to the mouth of Moose Creek91, then turned and faced his pursuers.
“Hope we ain't a-forcin' you,” Saltman murmured politely.
“Oh, no, not at all,” Smoke snarled93 with an even better imitation, as he passed among them on the back-trail to Dawson. Twice he attempted to cross the trailless icejams of the river, still resolutely94 followed, and both times he gave up and returned to the Dawson shore. Straight down Main Street he trudged, crossing the ice of Klondike River to Klondike City and again retracing95 to Dawson. At eight o'clock, as gray dawn began to show, he led his weary gang to Slavovitch's restaurant, where tables were at a premium96 for breakfast.
“Good-night fellows,” he said, as he paid his reckoning.
And again he said good-night, as he took the climb of the hill. In the clear light of day they did not follow him, contenting themselves with watching him up the hill to his cabin.
For two days Smoke lingered about town, continually under vigilant97 espionage98. Shorty, with the sled and dogs, had disappeared. Neither travelers up and down the Yukon, nor from Bonanza99, Eldorado, nor the Klondike, had seen him. Remained only Smoke, who, soon or late, was certain to try to connect with his missing partner; and upon Smoke everybody's attention was centered. On the second night he did not leave his cabin, putting out the lamp at nine in the evening and setting the alarm for two next morning. The watch outside heard the alarm go off, so that when, half an hour later, he emerged from the cabin, he found waiting for him a band, not of sixty men, but of at least three hundred. A flaming aurora borealis lighted the scene, and, thus hugely escorted, he walked down to town and entered the Elkhorn. The place was immediately packed and jammed by an anxious and irritated multitude that bought drinks, and for four weary hours watched Smoke play cribbage with his old friend Breck. Shortly after six in the morning, with an expression on his face of commingled100 hatred101 and gloom, seeing no one, recognizing no one, Smoke left the Elkhorn and went up Main Street, behind him the three hundred, formed in disorderly ranks, chanting: “Hay-foot! Straw-foot! Hep! Hep! Hep!”
“Good-night, fellows,” he said bitterly, at the edge of the Yukon bank where the winter trail dipped down. “I'm going to get breakfast and then go to bed.”
The three hundred shouted that they were with him, and followed him out upon the frozen river on the direct path he took for Tra-Lee. At seven in the morning he led his stampeding cohort up the zigzag16 trail, across the face of the slide, that led to Dwight Sanderson's cabin. The light of a candle showed through the parchment-paper window, and smoke curled from the chimney. Shorty threw open the door.
“Come on in, Smoke,” he greeted. “Breakfast's ready. Who-all are your friends?”
Smoke turned about on the threshold. “Well, good-night, you fellows. Hope you enjoyed your pasear!”
“Hold on a moment, Smoke,” Bill Saltman cried, his voice keen with disappointment. “Want to talk with you a moment.”
“What'd you pay old Sanderson twenty-five thousan' for? Will you answer that?”
“Bill, you give me a pain,” was Smoke's reply. “I came over here for a country residence, so to say, and here are you and a gang trying to cross-examine me when I'm looking for peace an' quietness an' breakfast. What's a country residence good for, except for peace and quietness?”
“And I'm not going to, Bill. That affair is peculiarly a personal affair between Dwight Sanderson and me. Any other question?”
“How about that crowbar an' steel cable then, what you had on your sled the other night?”
“It's none of your blessed and ruddy business, Bill. Though if Shorty here wants to tell you about it, he can.”
“Sure!” Shorty cried, springing eagerly into the breach108. His mouth opened, then he faltered109 and turned to his partner. “Smoke, confidentially110, just between you an' me, I don't think it IS any of their darn business. Come on in. The life's gettin' boiled outa that coffee.”
“Say, Saltman,” one man said, “I thought you was goin' to lead us to it.”
“Not on your life,” Saltman answered crustily. “I said Smoke would lead us to it.”
“An' this is it?”
“You know as much about it as me, an' we all know Smoke's got something salted down somewheres. Or else for what did he pay Sanderson the twenty-five thousand? Not for this mangy town-site, that's sure an' certain.”
“Well, what are we goin' to do now?” someone queried dolefully.
“Me for one for breakfast,” Wild Water Charley said cheerfully. “You led us up a blind alley114 this time, Bill.”
“I tell you I didn't,” Saltman objected. “Smoke led us. An' just the same, what about them twenty-five thousand?”
At half-past eight, when daylight had grown strong, Shorty carefully opened the door and peered out. “Shucks,” he exclaimed. “They-all's hiked back to Dawson. I thought they was goin' to camp here.”
“Don't worry; they'll come sneaking115 back,” Smoke reassured116 him. “If I don't miss my guess you'll see half Dawson over here before we're done with it. Now jump in and lend me a hand. We've got work to do.”
“Aw, for Heaven's sake put me on,” Shorty complained, when, at the end of an hour, he surveyed the result of their toil—a windlass in the corner of the cabin, with an endless rope that ran around double logrollers.
Smoke turned it with a minimum of effort, and the rope slipped and creaked. “Now, Shorty, you go outside and tell me what it sounds like.”
Shorty, listening at the closed door, heard all the sounds of a windlass hoisting117 a load, and caught himself unconsciously attempting to estimate the depth of shaft118 out of which this load was being hoisted119. Next came a pause, and in his mind's eye he saw the bucket swinging short to the windlass. Then he heard the quick lower-away and the dull sound as of the bucket coming to abrupt rest on the edge of the shaft. He threw open the door, beaming.
“I got you,” he cried. “I almost fell for it myself. What next?”
The next was the dragging into the cabin of a dozen sled-loads of rock. And through an exceedingly busy day there were many other nexts.
“Now you run the dogs over to Dawson this evening,” Smoke instructed, when supper was finished. “Leave them with Breck. He'll take care of them. They'll be watching what you do, so get Breck to go to the A. C. Company and buy up all the blasting-powder—there's only several hundred pounds in stock. And have Breck order half a dozen hard-rock drills from the blacksmith. Breck's a quartz120-man, and he'll give the blacksmith a rough idea of what he wants made. And give Breck these location descriptions, so that he can record them at the gold commissioner's to-morrow. And finally, at ten o'clock, you be on Main Street listening. Mind you, I don't want them to be too loud. Dawson must just hear them and no more than hear them. I'll let off three, of different quantities, and you note which is more nearly the right thing.”
At ten that night Shorty, strolling down Main Street, aware of many curious eyes, his ears keyed tensely, heard a faint and distant explosion. Thirty seconds later there was a second, sufficiently121 loud to attract the attention of others on the street. Then came a third, so violent that it rattled122 the windows and brought the inhabitants into the street.
“Shook 'em up beautiful,” Shorty proclaimed breathlessly, an hour afterward123, when he arrived at the cabin on Tra-Lee. He gripped Smoke's hand. “You should a-saw 'em. Ever kick over a ant-hole? Dawson's just like that. Main Street was crawlin' an' hummin' when I pulled my freight. You won't see Tra-Lee to-morrow for folks. An' if they ain't some a-sneakin' acrost right now I don't know minin' nature, that's all.”
Smoke grinned, stepped to the fake windlass, and gave it a couple of creaking turns. Shorty pulled out the moss-chinking from between the logs so as to make peep-holes on every side of the cabin. Then he blew out the candle.
“Now,” he whispered at the end of half an hour.
Smoke turned the windlass slowly, paused after several minutes, caught up a galvanized bucket filled with earth and struck it with slide and scrape and grind against the heap of rocks they had hauled in. Then he lighted a cigarette, shielding the flame of the match in his hands.
“They's three of 'em,” Shorty whispered. “You oughta saw 'em. Say, when you made that bucket-dump noise they was fair quiverin'. They's one at the window now tryin' to peek124 in.”
Smoke glowed his cigarette, and glanced at his watch.
“We've got to do this thing regularly,” he breathed. “We'll haul up a bucket every fifteen minutes. And in the meantime—”
Through triple thicknesses of sacking, he struck a cold-chisel on the face of a rock.
“Beautiful, beautiful,” Shorty moaned with delight. He crept over noiselessly from the peep-hole. “They've got their heads together, an' I can almost see 'em talkin'.”
And from then until four in the morning, at fifteen-minute intervals125, the seeming of a bucket was hoisted on the windlass that creaked and ran around on itself and hoisted nothing. Then their visitors departed, and Smoke and Shorty went to bed.
After daylight, Shorty examined the moccasin-marks. “Big Bill Saltman was one of them,” he concluded. “Look at the size of it.”
Smoke looked out over the river. “Get ready for visitors. There are two crossing the ice now.”
“Huh! Wait till Breck files that string of claims at nine o'clock. There'll be two thousand crossing over.”
“And every mother's son of them yammering 'mother-lode,'” Smoke laughed. “'The source of the Klondike placers found at last.'”
Shorty, who had clambered to the top of a steep shoulder of rock, gazed with the eye of a connoisseur126 at the strip they had staked.
“It sure looks like a true fissure127 vein128,” he said. “A expert could almost trace the lines of it under the snow. It'd fool anybody. The slide fills the front of it an' see them outcrops? Look like the real thing, only they ain't.”
When the two men, crossing the river, climbed the zigzag trail up the slide, they found a closed cabin. Bill Saltman, who led the way, went softly to the door, listened, then beckoned129 Wild Water Charley up to him. From inside came the creak and whine130 of a windlass bearing a heavy load. They waited at the final pause, then heard the lower-away and the impact of a bucket on rock. Four times, in the next hour, they heard the thing repeated. Then Wild Water knocked on the door. From inside came low furtive131 noises, then silences, and more furtive noises, and at the end of five minutes Smoke, breathing heavily, opened the door an inch and peered out. They saw on his face and shirt powdered rock-fragments. His greeting was suspiciously genial103.
“Wait a minute,” he added, “and I'll be with you.”
Pulling on his mittens132, he slipped through the door and confronted the visitors outside in the snow. Their quick eyes noted his shirt, across the shoulders, discolored and powdery, and the knees of his overalls133 that showed signs of dirt brushed hastily but not quite thoroughly134 away.
“Rather early for a call,” he observed. “What brings you across the river? Going hunting?”
“We're on, Smoke,” Wild Water said confidentially. “An' you'd just as well come through. You've got something here.”
“If you're looking for eggs—” Smoke began.
“Aw, forget it. We mean business.”
“You mean you want to buy lots, eh?” Smoke rattled on swiftly. “There's some dandy building sites here. But, you see, we can't sell yet. We haven't had the town surveyed. Come around next week, Wild Water, and for peace and quietness, I'll show you something swell135, if you're anxious to live over here. Next week, sure, it will be surveyed. Good-by. Sorry I can't ask you inside, but Shorty—well, you know him. He's peculiar107. He says he came over for peace and quietness, and he's asleep now. I wouldn't wake him for the world.”
As Smoke talked he shook their hands warmly in farewell. Still talking and shaking their hands, he stepped inside and closed the door.
They looked at each other and nodded significantly.
“Sure. An' his shoulders. He's been bumpin' an' crawlin' around in a shaft.” As Wild Water talked, his eyes wandered up the snow-covered ravine until they were halted by something that brought a whistle to his lips. “Just cast your eyes up there, Bill. See where I'm pointing? If that ain't a prospect-hole! An' follow it out to both sides—you can see where they tramped in the snow. If it ain't rim80-rock on both sides I don't know what rim-rock is. It's a fissure vein, all right.”
“An' look at the size of it!” Saltman cried. “They've got something here, you bet.”
“An' run your eyes down the slide there—see them bluffs standin' out an' slopin' in. The whole slide's in the mouth of the vein as well.”
“And just keep a-lookin' on, out on the ice there, on the trail,” Saltman directed. “Looks like most of Dawson, don't it?”
Wild Water took one glance and saw the trail black with men clear to the far Dawson bank, down which the same unbroken string of men was pouring.
“Well, I'm goin' to get a look-in at that prospect-hole before they get here,” he said, turning and starting swiftly up the ravine.
But the cabin door opened, and the two occupants stepped out.
“Hey!” Smoke called. “Where are you going?”
“To pick out a lot,” Wild Water called back. “Look at the river. All Dawson's stampeding to buy lots, an' we're going to beat 'em to it for the choice. That's right, ain't it, Bill?”
“Sure thing,” Saltman corroborated137. “This has the makin's of a Jim-dandy suburb, an' it sure looks like it'll be some popular.”
“Well, we're not selling lots over in that section where you're heading,” Smoke answered. “Over to the right there, and back on top of the bluffs are the lots. This section, running from the river and over the tops, is reserved. So come on back.”
“That's the spot we've gone and selected,” Saltman argued.
“But there's nothing doing, I tell you,” Smoke said sharply.
“Any objections to our strolling, then?” Saltman persisted.
“Decidedly. Your strolling is getting monotonous. Come on back out of that.”
“I just reckon we'll stroll anyways,” Saltman replied stubbornly. “Come on, Wild Water.”
“I warn you, you are trespassing,” was Smoke's final word.
“Nope, just strollin',” Saltman gaily retorted, turning his back and starting on.
“Hey! Stop in your tracks, Bill, or I'll sure bore you!” Shorty thundered, drawing and leveling two Colt's forty-fours. “Step another step in your steps an' I let eleven holes through your danged ornery carcass. Get that?”
“He sure got me,” Shorty mumbled to Smoke. “But if he goes on I'm up against it hard. I can't shoot. What'll I do?”
“Look here, Shorty, listen to reason,” Saltman begged.
“Come here to me an' we'll talk reason,” was Shorty's retort.
And they were still talking reason when the head of the stampede emerged from the zigzag trail and came upon them.
“You can't call a man a trespasser139 when he's on a town-site lookin' to buy lots,” Wild Water was arguing, and Shorty was objecting: “But they's private property in town-sites, an' that there strip is private property, that's all. I tell you again, it ain't for sale.”
“Now we've got to swing this thing on the jump,” Smoke muttered to Shorty. “If they ever get out of hand—”
“You've sure got your nerve, if you think you can hold them,” Shorty muttered back. “They's two thousan' of 'em an' more a-comin'. They'll break this line any minute.”
The line ran along the near rim of the ravine, and Shorty had formed it by halting the first arrivals when they got that far in their invasion. In the crowd were half a dozen Northwest policemen and a lieutenant140. With the latter Smoke conferred in undertones.
“They're still piling out of Dawson,” he said, “and before long there will be five thousand here. The danger is if they start jumping claims. When you figure there are only five claims, it means a thousand men to a claim, and four thousand out of the five will try to jump the nearest claim. It can't be done, and if it ever starts, there'll be more dead men here than in the whole history of Alaska. Besides, those five claims were recorded this morning and can't be jumped. In short, claim-jumping mustn't start.”
“Right-o,” said the lieutenant. “I'll get my men together and station them. We can't have any trouble here, and we won't have. But you'd better get up and talk to them.”
“There must be some mistake, fellows,” Smoke began in a loud voice. “We're not ready to sell lots. The streets are not surveyed yet. But next week we shall have the grand opening sale.”
He was interrupted by an outburst of impatience141 and indignation.
“We don't want lots,” a young miner cried out. “We don't want what's on top of the ground. We've come for what's under the ground.”
“We don't know what we've got under the ground,” Smoke answered. “But we do know we've got a fine town-site on top of it.”
“Sure,” Shorty added. “Grand for scenery an' solitude142. Folks lovin' solitude come a-flockin' here by thousands. Most popular solitude on the Yukon.”
Again the impatient cries arose, and Saltman, who had been talking with the later comers, came to the front.
“We're here to stake claims,” he opened. “We know what you've did—filed a string of five quartz claims on end, and there they are over there running across the town-site on the line of the slide and the canyon143. Only you misplayed. Two of them entries is fake. Who is Seth Bierce? No one ever heard of him. You filed a claim this mornin' in his name. An' you filed a claim in the name of Harry144 Maxwell. Now Harry Maxwell ain't in the country. He's down in Seattle. Went out last fall. Them two claims is open to relocation.”
“Suppose I have his power of attorney?” Smoke queried.
“You ain't,” Saltman answered. “An' if you have you got to show it. Anyway, here's where we relocate. Come on, fellows.”
Saltman, stepping across the dead-line, had turned to encourage a following, when the police lieutenant's voice rang out and stopped the forward surge of the great mass.
“Hold on there! You can't do that, you know!”
“Can't, eh?” said Bill Saltman. “The law says a fake location can be relocated, don't it?”
“Thet's right, Bill! Stay with it!” the crowd cheered from the safe side of the line.
“It's the law, ain't it?” Saltman demanded truculently145 of the lieutenant.
“It may be the law,” came the steady answer. “But I can't and won't allow a mob of five thousand men to attempt to jump two claims. It would be a dangerous riot, and we're here to see there is no riot. Here, now, on this spot, the Northwest police constitute the law. The next man who crosses that line will be shot. You, Bill Saltman, step back across it.”
Saltman obeyed reluctantly. But an ominous146 restlessness became apparent in the mass of men, irregularly packed and scattered as it was over a landscape that was mostly up-and-down.
“Heavens,” the lieutenant whispered to Smoke. “Look at them like flies on the edge of the cliff there. Any disorder102 in that mass would force hundreds of them over.”
Smoke shuddered147 and got up. “I'm willing to play fair, fellows. If you insist on town lots, I'll sell them to you, one hundred apiece, and you can raffle148 locations when the survey is made.” With raised hand he stilled the movement of disgust. “Don't move, anybody. If you do, there'll be hundreds of you shoved over the bluff6. The situation is dangerous.”
“But there are only two disputed claims,” Smoke argued. “When they're relocated where will the rest of you be?”
He mopped his forehead with his shirt-sleeve, and another voice cried out:
“Let us all in, share and share alike!”
Nor did those who roared their approbation150 dream that the suggestion had been made by a man primed to make it when he saw Smoke mop his forehead.
“Take your feet out of the trough an' pool the town-site,” the man went on. “Pool the mineral rights with the town-site, too.”
“But there isn't anything in the mineral rights, I tell you,” Smoke objected.
“Then pool them with the rest. We'll take our chances on it.”
“Fellows, you're forcing me,” Smoke said. “I wish you'd stayed on your side of the river.”
But wavering indecision was so manifest that with a mighty151 roar the crowd swept him on to agreement. Saltman and others in the front rank demurred152.
“Bill Saltman, here, and Wild Water don't want you all in,” Smoke informed the crowd. “Who's hogging153 it now?”
And thereat Saltman and Wild Water became profoundly unpopular.
“Now how are we going to do it?” Smoke asked. “Shorty and I ought to keep control. We discovered this town-site.”
“That's right!” many cried. “A square deal!” “It's only fair!”
“Three-fifths to us,” Smoke suggested, “and you fellows come in for two-fifths. And you've got to pay for your shares.”
“Ten cents on the dollar!” was a cry. “And non-assessable!”
“And the president of the company to come around personally and pay you your dividends154 on a silver platter,” Smoke sneered155. “No, sir. You fellows have got to be reasonable. Ten cents on the dollar will help start things. You buy two-fifths of the stock, hundred dollars par19, at ten dollars. That's the best I can do. And if you don't like it, just start jumping the claims. I can't stand more than a two-fifths gouge156.”
“No big capitalization!” a voice called, and it was this voice that crystallized the collective mind of the crowd into consent.
“There's about five thousand of you, which will make five thousand shares,” Smoke worked the problem aloud. “And five thousand is two-fifths of twelve thousand, five hundred. Therefore The Tra-Lee Town-Site Company is capitalized for one million two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, there being twelve thousand, five hundred shares, hundred par, you fellows buying five thousand of them at ten dollars apiece. And I don't care a whoop157 whether you accept it or not. And I call you all to witness that you're forcing me against my will.”
With the assurance of the crowd that they had caught him with the goods on him, in the shape of the two fake locations, a committee was formed and the rough organization of the Tra-Lee Town-Site Company effected. Scorning the proposal of delivering the shares next day in Dawson, and scorning it because of the objection that the portion of Dawson that had not engaged in the stampede would ring in for shares, the committee, by a fire on the ice at the foot of the slide, issued a receipt to each stampeder in return for ten dollars in dust duly weighed on two dozen gold-scales which were obtained from Dawson.
By twilight158 the work was accomplished159 and Tra-Lee was deserted160, save for Smoke and Shorty, who ate supper in the cabin and chuckled at the list of shareholders161, four thousand eight hundred and seventy-four strong, and at the gold-sacks, which they knew contained approximately forty-eight thousand seven hundred and forty dollars.
“But you ain't swung it yet,” Shorty objected.
“He'll be here,” Smoke asserted with conviction. “He's a born gambler, and when Breck whispers the tip to him not even heart disease would stop him.”
Within the hour came a knock at the door, and Wild Water entered, followed by Bill Saltman. Their eyes swept the cabin eagerly, coming to rest on the windlass elaborately concealed163 by blankets.
“But suppose I did want to vote twelve hundred shares,” Wild Water was arguing half an hour later. “With the other five thousand sold to-day it'd make only sixty-two hundred shares. That'd leave you and Shorty with sixty-three hundred. You'd still control.”
“But what d' you want with all that of a town-site?” Shorty queried.
“You can answer that better 'n me,” Wild Water replied. “An' between you an' me,” his gaze drifted over the blanket-draped windlass, “it's a pretty good-looking town-site.”
“But Bill wants some,” Smoke said grudgingly164, “and we simply won't part with more than five hundred shares.”
“How much you got to invest?” Wild Water asked Saltman.
“Oh, say five thousand. It was all I could scare up.”
“Wild Water,” Smoke went on, in the same grudging165, complaining voice, “if I didn't know you so well, I wouldn't sell you a single besotted share. And, anyway, Shorty and I won't part with more than five hundred, and they'll cost you fifty dollars apiece. That's the last word, and if you don't like it, good-night. Bill can take a hundred and you can have the other four hundred.”
Next day Dawson began its laugh. It started early in the morning, just after daylight, when Smoke went to the bulletin-board outside the A. C. Company store and tacked166 up a notice. Men gathered and were reading and snickering over his shoulder ere he had driven the last tack55. Soon the bulletin-board was crowded by hundreds who could not get near enough to read. Then a reader was appointed by acclamation, and thereafter, throughout the day, many men were acclaimed167 to read in loud voice the notice Smoke Bellew had nailed up. And there were numbers of men who stood in the snow and heard it read several times in order to memorize the succulent items that appeared in the following order:
The Tra-Lee Town-Site Company keeps its accounts on the wall. This is its first account and its last.
Any shareholder162 who objects to donating ten dollars to the Dawson General Hospital may obtain his ten dollars on personal application to Wild Water Charley, or, failing that, will absolutely obtain it on application to Smoke Bellew.
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收听单词发音
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1
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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2
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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3
disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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4
facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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5
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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6
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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7
bluffs
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| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
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8
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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9
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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10
beguiling
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| adj.欺骗的，诱人的v.欺骗( beguile的现在分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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11
lottery
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| n.抽彩；碰运气的事，难于算计的事 | |
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12
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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13
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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14
rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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15
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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16
zigzag
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| n.曲折，之字形；adj.曲折的，锯齿形的；adv.曲折地，成锯齿形地；vt.使曲折；vi.曲折前行 | |
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17
zigzagged
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| adj.呈之字形移动的v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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20
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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21
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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22
irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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23
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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24
apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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25
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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26
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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27
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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28
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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29
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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30
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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31
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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32
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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33
territorial
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| adj.领土的，领地的 | |
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34
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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35
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
persuasions
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| n.劝说，说服（力）( persuasion的名词复数 )；信仰 | |
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37
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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39
rebate
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| v./n.折扣，回扣，退款；vt.给...回扣，给...打折扣 | |
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40
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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42
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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43
recipient
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| a.接受的,感受性强的 n.接受者,感受者,容器 | |
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44
untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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45
aurora
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| n.极光 | |
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46
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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47
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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48
effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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49
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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50
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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51
smallpox
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| n.天花 | |
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52
flop
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| n.失败(者)，扑通一声；vi.笨重地行动，沉重地落下 | |
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53
forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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54
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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55
tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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56
avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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57
populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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58
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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59
crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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60
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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61
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
graft
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| n.移植，嫁接，艰苦工作，贪污；v.移植，嫁接 | |
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64
protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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66
mitten
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| n.连指手套，露指手套 | |
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67
initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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68
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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69
heralded
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| v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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70
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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71
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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72
ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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73
rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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74
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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75
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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76
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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77
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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78
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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79
gibed
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄( gibe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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81
loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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82
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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83
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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84
clinch
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| v.敲弯，钉牢；确定；扭住对方 [参]clench | |
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85
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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86
outweighed
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| v.在重量上超过( outweigh的过去式和过去分词 )；在重要性或价值方面超过 | |
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87
complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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88
wrestle
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| vi.摔跤，角力；搏斗；全力对付 | |
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89
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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90
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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91
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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92
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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93
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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94
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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95
retracing
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| v.折回( retrace的现在分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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96
premium
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| n.加付款；赠品；adj.高级的；售价高的 | |
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97
vigilant
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| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
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98
espionage
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| n.间谍行为，谍报活动 | |
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99
bonanza
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| n.富矿带，幸运，带来好运的事 | |
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100
commingled
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| v.混合，掺和，合并( commingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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102
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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103
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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104
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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105
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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106
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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107
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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108
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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109
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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110
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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111
sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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112
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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113
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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114
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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115
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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116
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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117
hoisting
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| 起重，提升 | |
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118
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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119
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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120
quartz
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| n.石英 | |
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121
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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122
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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123
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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124
peek
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| vi.偷看，窥视；n.偷偷的一看，一瞥 | |
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125
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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126
connoisseur
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| n.鉴赏家，行家，内行 | |
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127
fissure
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| n.裂缝；裂伤 | |
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128
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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129
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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130
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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131
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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132
mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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133
overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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134
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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135
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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136
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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137
corroborated
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| v.证实，支持（某种说法、信仰、理论等）( corroborate的过去式 ) | |
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138
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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139
trespasser
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| n.侵犯者；违反者 | |
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140
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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141
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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142
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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143
canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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144
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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145
truculently
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146
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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147
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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148
raffle
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| n.废物，垃圾，抽奖售卖；v.以抽彩出售 | |
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149
hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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150
approbation
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| n.称赞；认可 | |
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151
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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152
demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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153
hogging
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| n.弯[翘]曲，挠度，扭曲；拱曲 | |
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154
dividends
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| 红利( dividend的名词复数 )； 股息； 被除数； （足球彩票的）彩金 | |
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155
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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156
gouge
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| v.凿；挖出；n.半圆凿；凿孔；欺诈 | |
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157
whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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158
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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159
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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160
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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161
shareholders
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| n.股东( shareholder的名词复数 ) | |
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162
shareholder
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| n.股东，股票持有人 | |
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163
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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164
grudgingly
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165
grudging
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| adj.勉强的，吝啬的 | |
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166
tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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167
acclaimed
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| adj.受人欢迎的 | |
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