Cover

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Title Page, Frontispiece, Copyright

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Contents

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pp. v-vi

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Lost Face

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pp. 1-30

It was the end. Subienkow had travelled a long trail of bitterness and horror, homing like a dove for the capitals of Europe, and here, farther away than ever, in Russian America, the trail ceased. He sat in...

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Trust

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pp. 31-60

All lines had been cast off, and the Seattle No. 4 was pulling slowly out from the shore. Her decks were piled high with freight and baggage, and swarmed with a heterogeneous company of Indians, dogs, and...

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To Build a Fire

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pp. 61-98

Day had broken cold and gray, exceedingly cold and gray, when the man turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank, where a dim and little-travelled trail led eastward through the...

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That Spot

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pp. 99-122

I don't think much of Stephen Mackaye any more, though I used to swear by him. I know that in those days I loved him more than my own brother. If ever I meet Stephen Mackaye again, I shall not be responsible for...

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Flush of Gold

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pp. 123-158

Lon McFane was a bit grumpy, what of losing his tobacco pouch, or else he might have told me, before we got to it, something about the cabin at Surprise Lake. All day, turn and turn about, we had spelled each...

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The Passing of Marcus O'Brien

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pp. 159-188

“It is the judgment of this court that you vamose the camp . . . in the customary way, sir, in the customary way.”
Judge Marcus O’Brien was absent-minded, and Mucluc Charley nudged him in the ribs. Marcus...

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The Wit of Porportuk

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pp. 189-241

El-Soo had been a Mission girl. Her mother had died when she was very small, and Sister Alberta had plucked El-Soo as a brand from the burning, one summer day, and carried her away to Holy Cross Mission...