TIBERIUS SMITH
"'Telegram for you, sir,' said the portly crook who mismanaged our hotel.
"'The boss says we are to catch the Saucy Liz, sealer, at Vancouver, and take a mild little run north to Kinack, on the tip of Point Barrow,' mused Tib, eying me furtively.
"'Not to win several bets,' I protested, indignantly
"'I'll wire him a refusal,' he declared, stoutly.
"Inside of two hours he was back, smiling genially. 'Pay Monsieur Garçon Whang-Bang and pack up,' he cried, joyously.
"And, to abbreviate, that night found us on the C. P., booming, so far as I was concerned, very disconsolately westward.
"It seems that my patron's exchange of wires with the chief had revealed an errand so dear to the inclination of my leader that he had recanted and had tossed in an enthusiastic affirmative, signed by our joint names. I was disgruntled, of course, as we were not strapped to the ultimate coin yet, and I had wanted to enjoy a straw hat and forget chilblains a bit before allowing the bleak Arctic environment to again encompass our clustered activity.
"But Tib was all gayety, playful as a kitten, little realizing we were about to glide from the perpetual embrace of the chilly tomb solely through my second-hand varsity lore. It transpired we were on our
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