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Show The Fiction TRAPPER JOE ;wita Corner ently Trapper Joe slept. Time passed. The storm diminished in volume, died. The figure near the fire stirred, sat up, listened to Trapper Joe's deep breathing and reached for a stick of firewood. Trapper Joe returned to consciousness con-sciousness to find himself bound in his bunk. He struggled at his bonds. ' After an intermittently long time he freed himself, chafed his wrists, flexed his muscles. Then he built up the fire. There was a note above the mantel. "Sorry, old timer, I've been dreaming of a strike like this for years. I'm young and can enjoy en-joy the money. There's not enough for two. I've tied you lightly and left enough supplies to see you through the winter. Thanks for the lift." Trapper Joe folded the note and put it in his shirt pocket. "Time to celebrate," he said aloud. " 'Sides, I'M be wantin' to travel light so's I can reach the Indian village In three days' time." Before sitting down to his feast he lifted a loose board behind the chimney and hoisted up a gallon can. He opened the can and his eyes lighted at sight of the yellow gleaming particles of dust there. He chuckled and replaced the can. "Well," he soliloquized, "the kid had a chance to play fair, and didn't take it. If he'd been willin' to split I'd have come half way. It'll take him a week to reach the post. By that time I'll be safe and sound. THE BLIZZARD, first of the season, sea-son, was roaring fitfully when Trapper Joe climbed over the river bank and approached his cabin. Midway across the intervening clearing he stumbled over something some-thing and almost fell. The something, some-thing, he discovered, was a man, almost buried by I I snow, uncon- 3 -Minute scious. Fiefian Trapper Joe , ricnon rolled fljg stm form over and saw a huge pack strapped to the man's back. He grunted, picked up pack and man, and carried both into his cabin. Trapper Joe examined the pack and found that it contained con-tained five pouches, each filled to capacity with gold dust. There must, he reflected, be thousands of dollars worth. PRESENTLY the blanket-swathed figure stirred. Trapper Joe stared down at it solemnly. The unconscious man's eyelids fluttered, flut-tered, then opened. "Take it easy, pardner," said Trapper Joe. "You're coming around." The man stared at Trapper Joe, then sat bolt upright. "Where am I?" he demanded. your cabin, but " "What happened? I remember setting set-ting out for the Post. It began to snow. I kept falling. Then I saw "But you didn't have the strength to make it. I found you almost dead. I lugged you back here and nursed life back into your body. You're safe, and so's your gold." "Sure. Some of it spilled out. You must have made a rich strike." "I did. A pocket. I stayed too late in order to get it all out. My name's Tim McLeary." He eyed Trapper Joe curiously. "Kinda queer having this happen; waking up and finding myself alive and up and finding myself alive and " Trapper Joe nodded. "You're wondering why I didn't leave you there to die and appropriate the dust, eh? Well, I considered it Then thought of what a chance I'd be taking. I thinks: When he wakes up he'll see I saved his life wakes up he'll see I saved his life. McLeary brushed a hand across his face. His lips tightened. "I get it. You were scared to snitch the stuff. You figured I'd give you half of it on account of you saved my life. "You're a cool one all right." McLeary twisted his thin lips into a grin. "Mebbe it was good figurin' at that. Mind If I take a sleep? I feel sorta weak." "Drink some more soup first. Warm you up inside." OUTSIDE the storm beat and tore at the tiny cabin. Pres- |