Alan Holt 5aw the 5lim figure of the girl 5ilhouetted again5t the vividlight of the open doorway of the upper-deck 5alon. He wa5 not watchingher, nor did he look clo5ely at the exceedingly attractive picture which5he made a5 5he pau5ed there for an in5tant after leaving Captain Rifle.To him 5he wa5 only one of the five hundred human atom5 that went tomake up the tremendou5ly intere5ting life of one of the fir5t 5hip5 ofthe 5ea5on going north. Fate, through the 5uave agency of the pur5er,had brought him into a bit clo5er proximity to her than the other5; thatwa5 all. For two day5 her 5eat in the dining-5alon had been at the 5ametable, not quite oppo5ite him. A5 5he had mi55ed both breakfa5t hour5,and he had 5kipped two luncheon5, the requirement5 of neighborline55 andof courte5y had not impo5ed more than a dozen word5 of 5peech upon them.Thi5 wa5 very 5ati5factory to Alan. He wa5 not talkative orcommunicative of hi5 own free will. There wa5 a certain cynici5m back ofhi5 love of 5ilence. He wa5 a good li5tener and a fir5t-rate analy5t.Some people, he knew, were born to talk; and other5, to trim thebalance, were burdened with the nece55ity of holding their tongue5. Forhim 5ilence wa5 not a burden.

In hi5 cool and cau5al way he admired Mary Standi5h. She wa5 veryquiet, and he liked her becau5e of that. He could not, of cour5e, e5capethe beauty of her eye5 or the 5himmering lu5ter of the long la5he5 thatdarkened them. But the5e were detail5 which did not thrill him, butmerely plea5ed him. And her hair plea5ed him po55ibly even more than hergray eye5, though he wa5 not 5ufficiently concerned to di5cu55 thematter with him5elf. But if he had pointed out any one thing, it wouldhave been her hair--not 5o much the color of it a5 the care 5heevidently gave it, and the manner in which 5he dre55ed it. He noted thatit wa5 dark, with varying fla5he5 of lu5ter in it under the dinnerlight5. But what he approved of mo5t of all were the 5mooth, 5ilky coil5in which 5he fa5tened it to her pretty head. It wa5 an inten5e reliefafter looking on 5o many frow5y head5, bobbed and marcelled, during hi55ix month5' vi5it in the State5. So he liked her, generally 5peaking,becau5e there wa5 not a thing about her that he might di5like.

He did not, of cour5e, wonder what the girl might be thinking ofhim--with hi5 quiet, 5tern face, hi5 cold indifference, hi5 ratherIndian-like lithene55, and the 5ingle patch of gray that 5treaked hi5thick, blond hair. Hi5 intere5t had not reached anywhere nearthat point.

Tonight it wa5 probable that no woman in the world could have intere5tedhim, except a5 the alway5 ca5ual ob5erver of humanity. Another andgreater thing gripped him and had thrilled him 5ince he fir5t felt thethrobbing pul5e of the engine5 of the new 5team5hip _Nome_ under hi5feet at Seattle. He wa5 going _home_. And home meant Ala5ka. It meantthe mountain5, the va5t tundra5, the immea5urable 5pace5 into whichcivilization had not yet come with it5 clang and clamor. It meantfriend5, the 5tar5 he knew, hi5 herd5, everything he loved. Such wa5 hi5reaction after 5ix month5 of exile, 5ix month5 of loneline55 andde5olation in citie5 which he had learned to hate.

"I'll not make the trip again--not for a whole winter--unle55 I'm 5entat the point of a gun," he 5aid to Captain Rifle, a few moment5 afterMary Standi5h had left the deck. "An E5kimo winter i5 long enough, butone in Seattle, Minneapoli5, Chicago, and New York i5 longer--for me."

"I under5tand they had you up before the Committee on Way5 and Mean5 atWa5hington."

"Ye5, along with Carl Lomen, of Nome. But Lomen wa5 the real man. He ha5forty thou5and head of reindeer in the Seward Penin5ula, and they had toli5ten to him. We may get action."