<h2 id="c21"><br/>CHAPTER XXI <br/>FADING HOPES</h2>
<p>Just at dawn of a wonderfully crisp morning,
Marian found herself following her reindeer
over a trail that had recently been travelled by
a dog team. She was just approaching the Trading
Station where the questions that haunted her
tired brain would be answered.</p>
<p>Since leaving the cabin in the forest above the
rapids, she and Attatak had travelled almost day
and night. A half hour for a hasty lunch here
and there, an hour or two for sleep and for permitting
the deer to feed; that was all they had
allowed themselves.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_173">[173]</div>
<p>An hour earlier, Marian had felt that she
could not travel another mile. Then they had
come upon the trail of the dog team, and realizing
that they were nearing their goal, her
blood had quickened like a marathon racer’s at
the end of his long race. No longer feeling
fatigue, she urged her weary reindeer forward.
Contrary to her usually cautious nature, she even
cast discretion to the winds and drove her
deer straight toward the settlement. That there
were dogs which might attack her deer she knew
right well. That they were not of the species
that attacked deer, or that they were chained,
was her hope.</p>
<p>So, with her heart throbbing, she rounded a
sudden turn to find herself within sight of a
group of low-lying cabins that at one time had
been a small town.</p>
<p>Now, as her aged host had said, it was a town
in name only. She knew this at a glance. One
look at the chimneys told her the place was all
but deserted.</p>
<p>“No smoke,” she murmured.</p>
<p>“Yes, one smoke,” Attatak said, pointing.</p>
<p>It was true. From one long cabin there curled
a white wreath of smoke.</p>
<p>For a moment Marian hesitated. No dogs had
come out to bark, yet they might be there.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_174">[174]</div>
<p>“You stay with the deer,” she said to Attatak.
“Tether them strongly to the sleds. If dogs
come, beat them off.”</p>
<p>She was away like an arrow. Straight to that
cabin of the one smoke she hurried. She caught
her breath as she saw a splendid team of dogs
standing at the door. Someone was going on a
trip. The sled was loaded for the journey. Was
it the Agent’s sled? Had she arrived in time?</p>
<p>She did not have long to wait before knowing.
She had come within ten feet of the cabin when
a tall, deep-chested man opened the door and
stepped out. She caught her breath. Instantly
she knew him. It was the Agent.</p>
<p>He, in turn, recognized her, and with cap
in hand and astonishment showing in his eyes,
he advanced to meet her.</p>
<p>“You here!” he exclaimed. “Why Marian
Norton, you belong in Nome.”</p>
<p>“Once I did,” she smiled, “but now I belong
on the tundra with our herd. It is the herd that
has brought me here. May I speak to you about
it?”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_175">[175]</div>
<p>“Certainly you may. But you look tired and
hungry. The Trader has a piping Mulligan stew
on the stove. It will do you good. Come inside.”</p>
<p>An Indian boy, who made his home with the
Trader, was dispatched to relieve Attatak of
her watch, and Marian sat down to enjoy a delicious
repast.</p>
<p>There are some disappointments that come
to us so gradually that, though the matters they
effect are of the utmost importance, we are not
greatly shocked when at last their full meaning
is unfolded to us. It was so with Marian. She
had dared and endured much to reach this spot.
She had arrived at the critical moment. An
hour later the Agent would have been gone. The
Agent was her friend. Ready to do anything he
could to help her, he would gladly have gone
back with her to assist in defending her rights.
But duty called him over another trail. He had
no one, absolutely no one to send from this post
to execute his orders.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_176">[176]</div>
<p>“Of course,” he said after hearing her story,
“I can give you a note to that outlaw, Scarberry,
but he’d pay no attention to it.”</p>
<p>“He’d tear it up and throw it in my face,”
asserted Marian stoutly.</p>
<p>“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said the Agent,
rising and walking the floor. “There is Ben
Neighbor over at the foot of Sugar Loaf Mountain.
His cabin is only three days travel from
your camp. He’s a good man, and a brave one.
He is a Deputy Marshal. If I give you a note to
him, he will serve you as well as I could.”</p>
<p>“Would we need take a different trail home?”</p>
<p>“Why? Which way did you come?”</p>
<p>Marian described their course. The Agent
whistled. “It’s a wonder you didn’t perish!”</p>
<p>“Here,” he said, “is a rough map of the
country. I will mark out the course to Ben’s
cabin. You’ll find it a much safer way.”</p>
<p>“Oh, all right,” she said slowly. “Thanks.
That’s surely the best way.”</p>
<p>She was thinking of the treasure left at the
cabin. She had hoped to return by that route
and claim it. Now that hope was gone.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_177">[177]</div>
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