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 Dick and Silversheene had the advantage and they meant to keep it.

Half a mile from the coveted goal Richard again flung himself on the sled. He could scarcely breathe and his eyesight was dim. He had just sense enough left to guide his team.

"Mush! Silversheene! Mush!" he gasped in a wheezy voice and Silversheene cried to his team mates and they opened up another burst of speed.

Gradually they drew away from the Baldies while the waiting crowd cheered itself hoarse.

"The Huskies," they cried, "Henderson's Huskies. They are going to win. The Scotchman is beaten. The Huskies have won."

For with a rush of eager feet and a tinkle of bells old Silversheene had carried his team by the winning flag two hundred feet ahead of the seven-times winner and won the sweepstake for his dear master.

Men shouted and laughed and threw their