Yuh smell him coming, do yuh ?" he snarled.

"It's about _time_ he was coming--me here eating dried apricots and tapioca steady diet (nobody but a pilgrim would fetch tapioca into a line-camp, and if he does it again you'll sure be missing the only friend yuh got) and him gone four days when he'd oughta been back the second.

Get out and welcome him, darn yuh!" He gathered the coat under one arm that he might open the door, and hurried the dog outside with a threatening boot toe.

The wind whipped his brown cheeks so that he closed the door hastily and retired to the cheerless shelter of the cabin.
"Another blizzard coming, if I know the signs.

And if the Pilgrim don't show up to-night with the grub and tobacco--But I reckon the dawg smelt him coming, all right." He fingered uncertainly a very flabby tobacco sack, grew suddenly reckless and made himself an exceedingly thin cigarette with the remaining crumbs of tobacco and what little he could glean from the pockets of the coat he was mending.