'I've a batch of bread in the cabin, and I don't want it to fall.
Besides, my feet are getting cold.' The rest of the men
manifested their impatience in various suggestive ways.
'But the rope, Kid' It's bran' new, an' sure yer bread's not that
heavy it needs raisin' with the like of that?' Bettles by this
time had faced around. Father Roubeau, the humor of the situation
just dawning on him, hid a smile behind his mittened hand.
'No, Lon; this rope was made for a man.' Malemute Kid could be
very impressive on occasion.
'What man?' Bettles was becoming aware of a personal interest.
'The other man.' 'An' which is the one ye'd mane by that?'
'Listen, Lon--and you, too, Bettles! We've been talking this
little trouble of yours over, and we've come to one conclusion.
We know we have no right to stop your fighting-' 'True for ye, me
lad!' 'And we're not going to. But this much we can do, and shall
do--make this the only duel in the history of Forty-Mile, set an
example for every che-cha-qua that comes up or down the Yukon.
The man who escapes killing shall be hanged to the nearest tree.
Now, go ahead!'
Lon smiled dubiously, then his face lighted up.
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