Keno heard him make a sound as of one in terrible pain.
The miner turned a face, deadly white, towards the table.
"Keno," he cried, "he's gone!"
CHAPTER VIII
OLD JIM DISTRAUGHT
For a moment Keno failed to comprehend. Then for a second after that
he refused to believe. He ran to the bunk where Jim was desperately
turning down the blankets and made a quick examination of that as well
as of the other beds.
They were empty.
Hastening across the cabin, the two men searched in the berths at the
farther end with parental eagerness, but all in vain, the pup meantime
dodging between their legs and chewing at their trousers.
"Tintoretto!" said Jim, in a flash of deduction. "He must have got out
when somebody opened the door. Somebody's been here and stole my
little boy!"
"By jinks!" said Keno, hauling at his sleeves in excess of emotion.
"But who?"
"Come on," answered Jim, distraught and wild. "Come down to camp!
Somebody's playin' us a trick!"
Again they shut the pup inside, and then they fairly ran down the
trail, through the darkness, to the town below.
A number of men were standing in the street, among them the teamster
and Field, the father of Borealis. They were joking, laughing, wasting
time.
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