Brandeis Award 

McFane was asleep. THE PASSING OF MARCUS O'BRIEN "It is the judgment of this court that you vamose the camp . . . in in the ribs. Marcus O'Brien cleared his throat and went on - "Weighing the gravity of the offence, sir, and the extenuating you be outfitted with three days' grub.html">grub. That will do, I think." Arizona Jack cast a bleak glance out over the Yukon. It was a deep. The earth-bank on which he stood was ordinarily a dozen feet bank, devouring, instant by instant, tiny portions of the top- endless army of brown swirls and vanished away. Several inches more, enough.html">enough.html">enough." "There was Manchester," Marcus O'Brien replied gravely. "He didn't eaten by huskies," was Arizona Jack's retort. "And his killin' was once, an' jes' because his stomach was out of order, Manchester ups you that straight. Give me a week's grub, and I play even to win patience for these unprovoked killings. And they've got to stop. to be any killings. Now they're epidemic. I'm sorry for you, Jack, enough for a killing." "Provoke!" Arizona Jack snorted. "I tell you, O'Brien, you don't Ferguson? What for did Ferguson sing.html">sing 'Then I wisht I was a little sing 'little bird.html">bird.html">bird, little bird'? One little bird was enough. I birds. I gave 'm a chanst. I went to him almighty polite and There was witnesses that testified to that. "An' Ferguson was no jay-throated songster," some one spoke up from demanded. "I gave Ferguson warnin'. It was violatin' my own nature that fine-strung an' keyed-up they'd kill for heaps less'n I did. .

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