ds of devoted followers saw to it that the evilly disposed were
rolled in the snow and hustled off to bed. In the great world, where
great captains of industry die, all wheels under their erstwhile
management are stopped for a minute.

But in the Klondike, such was its hilarious sorrow at the departure of
its captain, that for twenty-four hours no wheels revolved. Even great
Ophir, with its thousand men on the pay-roll, closed down. On the day
after the night there were no men present or fit to go to work.

Next morning, at break of day, Dawson said good-by. The thousands that
lined the bank wore mittens and their ear-flaps pulled down and tied.
It was thirty below zero, the rim-ice was thickening, and the Yukon
carried a run of mush-ice. From the deck of the Seattle, Daylight
waved and called his farewells. As the lines were cast off and the
steamer swung out into the current, those near him saw the moisture
well up in Daylight's eyes. In a way, it was to him departure from his
native land, this grim Arctic region which was practically the only
land he had known. He tore off his cap and waved it.

"Good-by, you-all!" he called. "Good-by, you-all!"

PART II

CHAPTER I

In no blaze of glory did Burning Daylight descend upon San Francisco.
Not only had he been forgotten, but the Klondike along with him. The
world was interested in other things, and the Alaskan adventure, like
the Spanish War, was an old story. Many things had happened since
then. Exciting things were happening every day, and the
sensation-space of newspapers was limited. The effect of being ignored,
however, was an exhilaration. Big man as he had been in the Arctic
game, it merely showed how much bigger was this new game, when a man
worth eleven millions, and with a history such as his, passed unnoticed.

He settled down in St. Francis Hotel, was interviewed by the
cub-reporters on the hotel-run, and received brief paragraphs of notice
for twenty-four hours. He grinned to himself, and began to look around
and get acquainted with the new order of beings and things. He was
very awkward and very self-possessed. In addition to the stiffening
afforded his backbone by the conscious ownership of eleven millions, he
possessed an enormous certitude.

Nothing abashed him, nor was he appalled by the display and culture and
power around him. It was another kind of wilderness, that was all; and
it was for him to learn the ways of i