had imagined that the six hundred pounds of freight must be divided
between the three, but soon learned that six hundred pounds was the
limit for each person.

"We'll never carry that much, will we?" he queried. "Why, how are we
going to get all that stuff over the pass you mentioned?"

"We'll get Indians to pack it over. They'll charge twenty or thirty
cents a pound, but it's the best that can be done. Some hire pack mules
and dog teams, but my experience has been that Indians are the most
reliable."

Dinner was now had, and then the three proceeded to the outfitting store
Foster Portney had previously mentioned. On the way their uncle asked
the boys what they had in their trunks, that nothing not needed might be
purchased.

Two hours were spent in buying clothing, and both Earl and Randy thought
their uncle would never get done adding to the pile. First came a dozen
suits of flannel underwear, and with them a dozen pairs of heavy socks
and half a dozen of light ones. Then came two suits of woollen clothing,
strongly made and with large pockets, two pairs of strong shoes and a
pair of arctics, and two pairs of walrus-hide boots--heavy, it is true,
but strong as iron. Finally came a suit of furs and two caps, each with
a guard which could be pulled down to the neck, leaving only two holes
for the eyes.

"I reckon you've got handkerchiefs and such extras," said Mr. Portney.
"So now all you want, so far as wearing is concerned, is a few pairs of
smoked glasses, to prevent snow-blindness."

The general outfitter was also able to supply these, and he suggested
they take along about ten yards of mosquito netting.

"Mosquito netting!" cried Randy. "What for?"

"During the short summer mosquitoes are exceedingly thick in Alaska,"
said his uncle; and made the purchase suggested.

It was now getting late, and Foster Portney said they had best wait
until the following morning before buying the camping-out things,
bedding, and other necessities. "I'll make a careful list to-night," he
added.

They returned to the Palace Hotel, where Randy and Earl found Fred
Dobson awaiting them.

"Say!" was the greeting of the squire's son. "Is half of Basco moving
out to San Francisco?"

"What do you mean?" questioned Earl, with a puzzled look.

"Why, I was down at the railroad station about an hour ago, and I saw a
train come in from Chicago with Tom Roland and Jasper Guardley on
board."

CHAPTER VII.

BUYING THE OUT