Jason's Gold by Will Hobbs Page A

brothers, by any chance?”
    The first man nodded. “Abe and Ethan Hawthorn.”
    Jason was thunderstruck. “When did they get to Lake Bennett?”
    â€œFour days ago.”
    â€œCan I catch them before they get a boat built?”
    â€œDoubtful. It’s like this all the way. Your brothers were lucky to be on the front end, before all this happened.”
    â€œWhat if I try the Chilkoot?”
    â€œIf you travel light, you might catch them. The Chilkoot’s mostly rock, not slime like this.”
    â€œThanks. Thanks a lot.”
    With no hesitation. Jason shouldered his pack and started downhill. People were letting him around, as long as he was retreating. Finally he could fly, put this nightmare behind him.
    Descending Porcupine Hill, he passed through a slot between two boulders. On one side of the trail was a horse’s head, on the other its hind legs. This, he realized, was the horse he’d seen killed with the ax blow to the head. This was all that remained: the rest had been ground into the mud.
    A few minutes later, where a stream plunged across the trail, he came across a man in an utter rage, a burly man with red suspenders who seemed to be holding one of his dogs underwater. That’s exactly what he was doing—he was drowning the dog!
    Jason’s eyes went to the bodies of three dead dogs among the rocks downstream. In the cursing, roaring height of passion, the man was drowning every one of his dogs!
    The human serpent, meanwhile, was passing by with only mild curiosity.
    Jason couldn’t pass by. Mouth agape, he stepped away from the line. The dog in the madman’s huge hands was dead now; it floated downstream toward the others. With a bearlike roar, the man turned to unbuckle his fifth and last dog from the tug line. It was a black-and-white husky, a big male, big enough that it should have been trying to resist.
    Jason was trembling. His face was flushing hot, his fists clenching and unclenching helplessly.
    Like the horses on the trail, the dog seemed to recognize its fate, and had accepted it. The husky simply lay on its side and rolled its eyes away from the spectacle of the man who’d lost his reason. The man with the red suspenders grabbed up the dog by its harness and plunged its head and shoulders under the water, pinning the husky with his knee.
    Jason could stand no more. He’d seen too much cruelty, had played his part in it. No matter the consequences, he had to do something. He threw his pack to the ground and waded into the creek hollering, all out of control. Seizing the man by his collar and an elbow, Jason spun him around and screamed “No! No!” into his face.
    The huge man rose menacingly over Jason, and as he rose he released the dog. Eyes blazing like burning coals, he pulled out a pistol, put it to the side of Jason’s head, and cocked it.
    â€œIf you don’t want him,” Jason pleaded, “leave him be. I’ll take him!”
    The man pushed him away, then looked at him crazily. A weird smile began to play at his cracked lips. “Take him, then. He’s yours!”
    The dog drowner started laughing maniacally. “He won’t pull! Two hundred dollars and he won’t pull. Take him!”
    Jason tugged at the dog’s harness. “Let’s go,” he said to the animal.
    His eyes met the eyes of the dog, and Jason recognized a flicker of hope in their amber depths. “Come with me,” Jason said. The husky got to its feet and waded tentatively out of the stream, keeping a wary eye on its tormenter. Jason grabbed up his packsack and started walking down the trail. “Come on,” he encouraged, beckoning. The husky came with him, and neither looked back.
    A few moments later there came an explosive pistol shot. Jason jerked his head around, wondering if he was being shot at. The big man had blown his brains out.

NINE
    In little more than a week, Skagway had grown