THE BARRIER

BY

REX BEACH

AUTHOR OF "THE SPOILERS"

ILLUSTRATED BY DENMAN FINK

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

"GREAT LOVELY DOVE!" EJACULATED BURRELL, FERVENTLY ... WONDERING IF THIS GLORIOUS THING COULD BE THE QUAINT HALF-BREED GIRL OF YESTERDAY

"I MISSED YOU DREADFULLY, DADDY," SAID NECIA. "THERE WASN'T ANY FUN IN THINGS WITHOUT YOU"

POLEON FOLLOWED HER WITH HIS EYES. "AN' DAT'S DE END OF IT ALL," HE MUSED. "FIVE YEAR I'VE WAIT—AN' JUS' FOR DIS"

"LET ME OUT OF HERE!" THE GIRL DEMANDED, IMPERIOUSLY

THE COMBATANTS WERE DRAGGED APART ... "I GOT YOU, BENNETT!" CRIED THE TRADER, HOARSELY. "YOUR MAGIC IS NO GOOD"

NECIA SAW RUNNION RAISE HIS GUN, AND WITHOUT THOUGHT OF HER OWN SAFETY, THREW HERSELF UPON HIM

THE BARRIER

CHAPTER I

THE LAST FRONTIER

Many men were in debt to the trader at Flambeau, and many counted him as a friend. The latter never reasoned why, except that he had done them favors, and in the North that counts for much. Perhaps they built likewise upon the fact that he was ever the same to all, and that, in days of plenty or in times of famine, his store was open to every man, and all received the same measure. Nor did he raise his prices when the boats were late. They recalled one bleak and blustery autumn when the steamer sank at the Lower Ramparts, taking with her all their winter's food, how he eked out his scanty stock, dealing to each and every one his portion, month by month. They remembered well the bitter winter that followed, when the spectre of famine haunted their cabins, and when for endless periods they cinched their belts, and cursed and went hungry to sleep, accepting, day by day, the rations doled out to them by the grim, gray man at the log store. Some of them had money-belts weighted low with gold washed from the bars at Forty Mile, and there were others who had wandered in from the Koyukuk with the first frosts, foot-sore and dragging, the legs of their skin boots eaten to the ankle, and the taste of dog meat still in their mouths. Broken and dispirited, these had fared as well through that desperate winter as their brothers from up-river, and received pound for pound of musty flour, strip for strip of rusty bacon, lump for lump of precious sugar. Moreover, the price of no single thing had risen throughout the famine.

Some of them, to this day, owed bills at Old Man Gale's, of which they dared not think; but every fall and every spring they came again and told of their disappointment, and every time they fared back into the hills bearing another outfit,