t can be done, however," and I
returned to my room.

What should I do! I knew of no place of safety on shore for me during
the night if the steamer remained, and I dared not stay in my stateroom.
I had no revolver, no key to my door. I might be murdered before
morning, and my friends would never know what had become of me. There
was no one on board to whom I could appeal but the lawyer, and he might
be powerless to protect me in such a drunken rabble. With a prayer in my
heart I made my nerves as tense as possible and shut my teeth tightly
together. It was best to appear unconcerned. I did it. Suggesting away
all fright from my face I watched proceedings in the dining room through
the cracks in the wall. It was a sight such as I had never before seen.
It was six o'clock and dinner was being served by the flushed and
flustered waiters. Probably a hundred persons sat at the tables in all
stages of intoxication. Hilarity ran high. Most of them were wildly
jolly and gushingly full of good will; but all seemed hungry, and the
odors from the kitchen were appetizing.

I now hoped that the dinner, and especially the hot tea and coffee would
restore some of these people to their senses in order that they might
get up steam in the engines and pull out of this terrible place before
they were too far gone. Dinner was well over in the dining room and I
had not yet eaten. A waiter passed my door. He stopped.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"No, I have not."

"Don't you want some?"

"Well, yes. I think I could eat something."

"I'll bring you some." And he was gone.

A few minutes later he entered my stateroom with a big tray, and putting
it upon the edge of the upper berth he left me. I ate my dinner from the
tray while standing, and felt better.

An hour afterward the drunken officials had been coaxed into going
ashore; the furnace in the engine room was crammed with wood; the
partially sobered pilot resumed his place at the wheel; the captain had
pulled himself together as best he could under the threats of the lawyer
from Seattle, and the steamer moved away from the bank, going with the
current swiftly towards Dawson. Nothing of further importance occurred
until next morning when our steamer pulled up alongside the dock at
Dawson. It was Monday morning, the thirtieth of July, 1899, and the
weather was beautifully clear. I had been fourteen days coming from
Seattle. Hundreds of people waited upon the dock to see us land, and