in Bangor several times, so they did not
feel quite like strangers. Having obtained supper at a restaurant, they
made their way to the river docks and asked concerning the boat for
Boston, having decided to make that trip by water. The boat was in, and
having procured their passage, they were privileged to go on board and
sleep there over-night.

The trip to Boston was an uneventful one, although full of novelty to
Earl and Randy, who had never taken such a voyage before. They might
have enjoyed it still more had they not been so anxious concerning what
was before them. Alas! little did they dream of all the grave perils the
future held in store.

"We don't want to look too green," said Earl, when the steamboat was
tying up at her wharf and the passengers were preparing to go ashore.

"Oh, I guess we'll pass in a crowd," said Randy, laughing. "All we want
to look out for is that we are not robbed, or something like that."

Leaving their baggage on check, the two boys started from Foster's wharf
up into the city. They had no idea where the firm of Bartwell & Stone
were located, but Earl was certain they could easily be found by
consulting a directory.

The elder brother was on the point of entering a large store in quest of
the book mentioned when Randy pulled his arm and pointed down the
street. "There goes a fire engine, Earl!" he cried. "Let's follow it. I
should like to see how they manage a fire in a city."

Earl was willing, and away they went, easily keeping up with the engine,
which had to proceed slowly through the crowded thoroughfare. The fire
was in a paint and oil works, and burnt fiercely for over an hour
before it was gotten under control. The boys lingered around, watching
the movements of the firemen with keen interest, and it was two hours
later before Earl caught Randy by the shoulder and hauled him out of the
mob of people.

"Remember, we're bound for Alaska," he said. "We can't afford to stop at
every sight on the way."

A few blocks further on a directory was found in a drug store and the
address of Bartwell & Stone jotted down. They lost no further time in
hunting up the firm of bankers and brokers, who occupied the ground
floor of a substantial business structure.

"I am Earl Portney," explained Earl, to the clerk who asked them what
they wanted. "This is my brother Randolph. Our uncle, Foster Portney,
said he would send on some money for us from San Francisco. Has it
arrived yet?"

"