was empty, and he was heavily in debt.

Curly Parsons bowed his head on the bar with a gesture of despair.

"What gets me," he moaned, "is what you're going to do with it all."

"I'll tell you-all in simple A, B, C and one, two, three." Daylight
held up one finger and began checking off. "Hunch number one: a big
strike coming in Upper Country. Hunch number two: Carmack's made it.
Hunch number three: ain't no hunch at all. It's a cinch. If one and
two is right, then flour just has to go sky-high. If I'm riding
hunches one and two, I just got to ride this cinch, which is number
three. If I'm right, flour'll balance gold on the scales this winter.
I tell you-all boys, when you-all got a hunch, play it for all it's
worth. What's luck good for, if you-all ain't to ride it? And when
you-all ride it, ride like hell. I've been years in this country, just
waiting for the right hunch to come along. And here she is. Well, I'm
going to play her, that's all. Good night, you-all; good night."

CHAPTER X

Still men were without faith in the strike. When Daylight, with his
heavy outfit of flour, arrived at the mouth of the Klondike, he found
the big flat as desolate and tenantless as ever. Down close by the
river, Chief Isaac and his Indians were camped beside the frames on
which they were drying salmon. Several old-timers were also in camp
there. Having finished their summer work on Ten Mile Creek, they had
come down the Yukon, bound for Circle City. But at Sixty Mile they had
learned of the strike, and stopped off to look over the ground. They
had just returned to their boat when Daylight landed his flour, and
their report was pessimistic.

"Damned moose-pasture," quoth one, Long Jim Harney, pausing to blow
into his tin mug of tea. "Don't you have nothin' to do with it,
Daylight. It's a blamed rotten sell. They're just going through the
motions of a strike. Harper and Ladue's behind it, and Carmack's the
stool-pigeon. Whoever heard of mining a moose-pasture half a mile
between rim-rock and God alone knows how far to bed-rock!"

Daylight nodded sympathetically, and considered for a space.

"Did you-all pan any?" he asked finally.

"Pan hell!" was the indignant answer. "Think I was born yesterday!
Only a chechaquo'd fool around that pasture long enough to fill a pan
of dirt. You don't catch me at any such foolishness. One look was
enough for me. We're pulling on in the morning for Circle City. I