se to call himself--saw his dream come
true. The first stampeders came in August; gaunt fellows worn by
sleepless days and nights during which they had fought the swift waters
and the fear of pursuit. They were followed by a tiny river boat, then
an A. C. packet, loaded heavy and carrying Hopper with his bar-fixtures
and fifteen barrels of whisky. She had been aground a hundred times and
had passed other stranded craft laden with men who cursed her as she
gained the lead. A city of tents sprang up on the flats; it changed to
one of cabins when the first snow flew. John Daniels Creek was overrun,
at nights its tortuous course was lit by glowing fires, smoke hung above
it constantly, it became pitted with prospect holes. Trails were broken
to adjoining creeks where similar scenes were enacted. But of all who
came, few saw, and almost none spoke to, John Daniels himself, for he
never went to town and there was no welcome at his cabin. Of course his
name was on every tongue, but he toiled underground by day and hid
himself by night. Sometimes Hopper, on his way to or from Number Four
Above, would stop over and spend an evening with him, but not often.

Meanwhile great ash-gray pay dumps grew upon Discovery, and there were
rumors of a fabulous bed-rock, inlaid with gold, but Daniels did all his
own sampling, so there was no way of verifying the reports. When the
spring sluicing was finished it was said that he had cleaned up half a
million.

Daniels himself, huge, gaunt, gray-bearded, and silent, saw his gold
loaded aboard the first steamer and accompanied it to the
"outside"--this being his first trip to the States in ten years.

During his absence the new camp of Arcadia grew, for its fame had
spread. It changed from a formless cluster of log shacks to a small city
of sawed lumber and paint. One season had made the wilderness into a
frontier town, the next made of it a metropolis. With the current that
flowed thither from the distant camps came the scum of the north
country. Following the first tide of venturesome, strong-limbed men came
the weaklings, the maimed and crooked of body and soul, the parasites
and idlers. Among these there were women of the customary kind and a
number of men who lived upon their earnings. Barclay was one of them.

Arcadia was in the fullest riot of its growth when John Daniels
returned, late in the autumn. He had expected to find a change, but he
was unprepared for the startling transformat