you are, old sport. I fixed all that. Come on, I want
to talk to you. I went home and did the returned prodigal stunt. The old
man was mighty decent when I told him it was no good, I couldn't go into
the glue factory yet awhile. Told him I had the gold-bug awful bad and
nothing but a trip up there would cure me. He was rather tickled with
the idea. Staked me handsomely, and gave me a year to make good. So here
I am, and you're in with me. I'm going to grubstake you. Mind, it's a
business proposition. I've got to have some one, and when you make the
big strike you've got to divvy up."

I said something about having secured employment as an under-gardener.

"Pshaw! you'll soon be digging gold-nuggets instead of potatoes. Why,
man, it's the chance of a lifetime, and anybody else would jump at it.
Of course, if you're afraid of the hardships and so on----"

"No," I said quickly, "I'll go."

"Ha!" he laughed, "you're too much of a coward to be afraid. Well, we're
going to be blighted Argonauts, but we've got to get busy over our
outfits. We haven't got any too much time."

So we hustled around. It seemed as if half of San Francisco was
Klondike-crazy. On every hand was there speculation and excitement. All
the merchants had their outfitting departments, and wild and vague were
their notions as to what was required. We did not do so badly, though
like every one else we bought much that was worthless and foolish.
Suddenly I bethought me of Salvation Jim, and I told the Prodigal of my
new friend.

"He's an awfully good sort," I said; "white all through; all kinds of
experience, and he's going alone."

"Why," said the Prodigal, "that's just the man we want. We'll ask him to
join us."

I brought the two together, and it was arranged. So it came about that
we three left San Francisco on the fourth day of March to seek our
fortunes in the Frozen North.

BOOK II

THE TRAIL

Gold! We leaped from our benches. Gold! We sprang from our stools.
Gold! We wheeled in the furrow, fired with the faith of fools.
Fearless, unfound, unfitted, far from the night and the cold,
Heard we the clarion summons, followed the master-lure--Gold!

CHAPTER I

"Say! you're looking mighty blue. Cheer up, darn you! What's the
matter?" said the Prodigal affectionately.

And indeed there was matter enough, for had I not just received letters
from home, one from Garry and one from Mother? Garry's was gravely
censorious, almost