THE KLONDYKE

Auckland Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 184, 6 August 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE KLONDYKE

By JOHN E. MUSICK,

! GOLD MYSTERY.

author of 'Mysterious Mr Howard,' ,j<], e Dark Stranger,' 'Charlie Allen-

dale's Double,' etc.

cvNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS INSTAL- " • MENT. t n order that new readers of the 'Star* _ty begin with the following: instalment i this story and understand it just f« though they had read it from the Canning, we here give a synopsis of ♦hat portion of it which has already been pushed: The story opens in the icy Cions of the Yukon. Ralston, an tmerican, who had once been a sailor, rporse W. Cormack, an adventurous EnAshman nicknamed 'Lucky George,' rid Myers, Porter Allen, known as Big sort,-and 'a young fellow from Fresno, Jamed Paul Miller, called by his companions 'Crack Lash, are mining for rtfd with indifferent success. At last a ireat discovery is made by Lucky George through a tip given him by a 'squaw In1, named Lattimer. Paul Miller also struck tt very rich, and.his claim turned out to be the richest on the Klondike Paul Is ■■engaged to be married to a young &irl a.4 nis home in Fresno. He jas a rival in Theodore Lackland. The latter failing in his attempt to win the f-iri, resolves to have his rival removed from his path. Clarence Berry and his youngl bride flhom he has just married, are about to start for the Klondike to seek their fortune. They are friends of Laura Bush and her lover Paul Miller. Laura bess tfem to seek Paul and warn him of the machinations of Lackland.

CHAPTER IX.

THE WALRUS HIDE. Se waited until he got able to. navigate,' Glum Ealston continued, in his Jialf sailor and half frontier jargon, 'an' lie and I set out alone to catch the men who robbed him and so nearly gave him passage to Davy Jones.

■Well, I won't tell you all about our journey through the country, over hill aid mountains. One day we came upon the three sharks sailin' up the talley. We got within lead throwin' distance and calls to 'em to halt, but they tacked ship, clapped on all sail and scud before the wind, though we Knt two bullets after 'em. The precious scamps parted company, two goin' to the right, round one side o' tie mountain; and the other one to the left. /

'I told Crack-lash to follow the one led winged, and I'd answer for the other two, and I crowded all canvass after 'em. I came in sight twice arid banged away at 'em, but they were co far I couldn't hit 'em to save me. JM, the upshot o' the story is they got away, hid like the red fox somevhere in the holes" in the mountains. I .spent two days tryin' to find 'em, then set out to find Crack-lash. But it ain't no use. The snow covered up Ms tracks, an' I aint been able to come onto'em again. What become of him I.don't know, bait it's my opinion he's fed. Either fell in some great mountain chasm or been killed by them Sranks who went to detain him in the Bondyke, or else, like my poor captain, he's just gone off, an' we don't know where he is!'

Ethel Berry listened with the keenest interest to the story of Glum Balstbn,; and tears gathered in her ejeg. She knew the missing cpmMon.., ..was none other.-thanv Paul Miller;whose fate would perhaps sever be known. She did not think ft much of Paul, lying cold and dead ia some mountain chasm or, .perhaps, onried .countless fathoms of feet beneattithe eternal snows of Alaska, as ™ didZof her poor friend. Paul's. beTfrothed, back in Fresno.

•JOK,, heaven, poor Laura! how shall «c Break this terrible news to her. Oarence?'she sobbed. ■■ :-:. ■

, The young husband made no answer, and Glum Ealston, lighting =his pipe, proceeded^ to smoke in silence;-: Paul Miller ran two or .three hundred paces' into the cavern, until it Pw so dark he had to grope his way. Be trickling of water told him he *as again near the stream and he came to a halt. ,Froni. around a projecting stone he ntrned his gaze back to the chamber Much was lighted by the lamp. . He saw the hermit come at a run ward the inner chamber, three men pursuing him. They were so close on that he halted by the side of the much and turned at bay. Though pursuers were armed, they seemed JMtp.wish. to harm the old man, for 'fley constantly implored him to surrender.

shan't be harmed.' We don't want to hurt a hair o' Nr head.l

'Come, put down that gun; it's CDlPty now.' The hermit raised his clubbed rifle J™ struck a blow at the nearest captor, who dodged it, and j stock broke off against the stone

tome, that's all foolishness,' cried on^°f the assailants. "•We hermit threw th% barrel at him, "« he ducked his head and it struck wall of the cavern and '■|Uattliag. down on the stone- floor. nothing bunted, the hermit snatch- ™, a, boat pistol from his belt, but a (i 11 - SIS at J;his moment appeared,g;n U- Ss!^''fin'4- seizeci?fiis arms' from ."wnd':and hurled him to the cavern loor.

~??anl: Miller had all along watched -Z.^nting- contest. He thought he S UO>V solve the mysteiT of .the lt- He was some notorious crimitonn * Qrliad been hiding among the wilds, and those three men fj\?° doubt, officers come to cap,^.Jj;m. This conclusion brought to * m ind a wild desire to secure the .T °f these men to assist him in the sbrT* 1 of the three robbers. He toward the chamber where Wfl " Were tne hermit's hands !'aC i ps of walru!s skin, and was C°& Dear enough to call out when halted and. gave them a

J^&.are the robbers themselves!' fe? asPed in a whisper. 'What in & does this mean!' He quickly -Jjs away behind some masses of tsven, en frOm the side of the a£ mP]etely concealed from the tea* m tllis singular drama, Paul :* enabled to observe all that went Wn re seemed to be only viptft,! t enou Sn on the part of the capjjf.'l r efl ect the capture of the her- ■^ When this was effected, they with him to do somelerrnu 01 * make some revelation. The ji^t was determined, and, in a voice ;"?""#*, cried: thon«L° U>t■■— I swear 1 won't do its taint you kee P me in these moun" 'W ni 1*31 tJie day of judgment.' ' "'■■■:■ W kee P you until you die and ; y?Uito the polar bears,' cried one ■* ifij «Blwrs. !•■ |. hear enough to form as to their designs. He

SsS^fe^-xiety, and ancVfears 1!^ %vlth ™S™ hopes know whit Sur s °° + much Pu^«i to After * ll course to pursue. Plied Mm^vith Uv en' + ?iS CaPtors refused 'to answ^ questlons a^ he last; leavLo nS r •aiiy^of then>. At man, the X^tJ, n h 6harg? °f one space and wW +? i subterranean stream, they halted for a few moments th e «Srre a?° Ut- came back Past the lock behind which he crouched. said o S liere' that is <luite evident,'

'No, the old fellow's not been here long enough. He couldn't brin^ it away.' ~;■,■■, \ °

. 'Wonder what became 6''that youn<* land.shark that chased you up the mountain side?' *

'Don't know, but I hope he broke his neck.' • >■_:'. ...

. We ought not to have had anything .t do with him. We got enough on liand without gettin' mixed up in that mess."'

'Yes, but Morris and Belcher said it must be done. He fit like a devil and I reckon Belcher'll die or swing- for his part.'

Tljen as they passed on 'one of them mentioned a name which caused him to start so violently as to almost discover himself to them. It was Lackland.

Lackland was the wealthy banker and speculator of his own town, who had been a rival for the heart and hand of Laura Bush. What did these mysterious men of the Klondyke know about him, or what had he to do with them? Paul only heard a part of their conversation, and what he did hear was so disconnected that he failed to form an3 r idea- of the subject.

They passed him without discovering him, and went back to the prisoner. Then they held a long consultation, after which they seemed to come to some definite conclusion, and started with the prisoner from the cavern.

The hermit went without littering a sing-le word of complaint. A sigh, however, reached the listener's ear—a sigh that seemed to come, from : the utmost. depths of a troubled heart. Paul had undergone a complete change toward the hermit. He no longer suspected that he had-any evil intent,toward him, and the looks which he had at first interpreted as glances of evil from his eyes were now.softened into friendship or affection. , , _ 'I was wrong. I made a great mis-, take,' he mentally declared. 'The hermit was my friend and not my enemy. Oh, Heaven, how I wish 1 was armed. I would.fly to his rescue—but it is useless to attempt ;.anything now. They are three to one, and that one not armed. Oh, Ealston—Glum Kalston—where are you? Why don't you come, help me and end this maddening mystery.' . He fell upon his knees and furiously beat his "■ breast with his hands while, the captors led the prisoner away. ■'. .■ " ■ --. ■ .-..,. , ... .- ..i. They had tiaken "P the 011 IW-V d carried it with them, and Paul was soon in total darkness. In his fit of desperation he rose and followed them. Far in the distance the .receding gleam told him the lamp was going away. "',..■ 'V ■ V -c He followed that distant, speck of lio-ht, and at last the captors, with the hermit, came to the outside of the cavern. Here they ««*ixi«xiislied. the lamp and placed it on a shelf of rock in the wall of the cavern. ■Paul hurried rapidly forward, and at the entrance of the cavern halted and gazed off after the captors and Prisoner A thousand tumultous emotions swayed his heart, and again m despaix hi beat his breast with his tam!'cruel, cruel fate!. Why did'l not know he was my friend and defe?tdwl?too late for him to aid the hermit, for he was already gone. Alas it istoo often the case with us pooi, "i mortals. We do not know or apprecSte a friend until it is too late f° O nrm we P S pm-ned while living .take* the stS n£ uJZ^Jo a blaze and ISii Storied out and found not only hifweapons and knife, b^his belt Zfe I^ulcTSSed Sf poor old hermit' A little farther away-as his blanlrUfravTbut° ehe XmlmbeVed HI mOOSe + - H Sic?Sre o?f all. It was a full •T, hlSaTandxno°re acquainted with SfaHs than the one that had painte^ was huL Pit Uto e make out anything * ™ the hide, and rolling it up Srust t in on; of his capacious pocSte aid, taking some of the proviS left in the cavern, went out and sionsleiwi shoe s to leave Se See forever. By this time it was Sowing, and he gave up all hope of fonSg the trail of the captors and rescuing1 the hermit. ■ : Buckling, on his snow shoes, he left +h e caven?and entered the valley from whidh aTmall stream flowed into the

Yukon. The whole region was dreary and,unfamiliar to the young wanderer. He tramped until night and then, spreading a blanket on the snow, slept soundly. The snow fell during the night, and when he awoke he shook off the Avhite gown of nature, and ate seme of the roasted moose meat he had brought with him. He had been so fortunate as to find some matches in the cavern, with which he kindled a fire when he had need for one.

For over a week he wandered about in the wilderness, subsisting on fish lie caught in the river, and a deer which he shot, but not seeing a human being. Paul had no compass to steer his course, and was often lost among the mountains.

He suffered no little uneasiness on account of Glum Ealston, of whose jfate he was uncertain. He was often inclined to return to Dawson City, but dared not leave the valley until he knew more of his companion. One day he. came upon a fresh trail in the snow, as if a party with Indian porters, dogs, and sledges had made their way over the snow toward Forty Mile Camp. 'Some new party going to the Klondyke!' he thought. 'More to suffer cold, disappointment, and perhaps die in this far-off country.', . He sat down at the side of the path to rest, and think. A slight crunching of snow but a short distance from him caused him to look up, arid he saw a man coming on snow shoes, a rifle on his shoulder. A single glance at those familiar features,, and he cried: 'Glum—Glum Ealston!' The solitary traveller paused, started back in surprise, clutching' his gun for an instant as if he would use it; then, dropping it on the snow, gave vent to a whoop that would have done credit to a wild Indian, and bounding forward had Paul about the neck, crying: j 'Crack-lash alive, by th' trident o' Neptune.' 'Where have you been?' asked Paul. 'Cruisin' about lookin' for you,' he answered. 'Where you been?' Paul told the story of his adventures, concluding with his escape from the cave. 'I have found the mystery about me thickening all the time, and this walrus hide covered with strange pictures and hieroglyphics is the chief of all mysteries.'

Glum Kalston took the walrus hide, unrolled it, and gazing at it with wildly dilating eyes which indicated his strange interest, demanded: 'Where did you get it?' 'From the hermit.'

Th' hermit —the hermit —the man that owns this hide—the man who saved you, is my old captain!' cried the excited prospector, with a shout. 'Where is he? where is he! It's my old captain—l'll go home to Kate yet. Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?' he shouted almost fiercely, while Paul was too much dumbfounded to utter a word.

CHAPTER X.

A SEARCH FOR THE HERMIT.

'Be calm, Glum, and explain what you mean!' cried Paul, at last controlling his astonishment.

'The hermit, or the man in the cave, is my old captain, who was coaxed away over twenty years ago by the infernal Injuns.'

'How do you know he is your captain?'

'-'This piece'-of walrus hide tells; the whole :story.' •. 'Can you read it?'

'Yes, and what's more, a part o' itwas made by the captain himself. This schooner is his own work. It is our ship, the "Eleanor," as is'painted on this corner,' and he pointed at- the schooner on the walrus skin. '<

The old fellow wafc so much elated ttiat'he hugg-ed the bit of walrus hide to his bosom.

'He lives; I alters said he lived, and now I know it,' he declared. 'I'll go home. Kate is waitin' for me; she's waited all these years —I've grown old, an' she's stayed young and waited and waited for me. Oh, it'll be like the day o' kingdom come when I find my captain an' go home. An' think his wife an' the little baby awaitin' for him! Won't they .be happy? I suppose the baby's growed up to be a good, big fellow now, an* may - not reineniber him, but its mother will.'

'Glum, how you do talk!' said Paul, half inclined to believe the old man had suddenly lost his senses. 'Sit down and explain what you mean.' Holding up the piece of walrus hide, he said:

'I've seen this before.' 'WheTe?' 'On board the "Eleanor." ' •'When?' ■ 'More'n twenty years ago.' 'Who had it there?' 'The red-skin chief as had the stran o' gold nuggets about his neck.' Paul's interest in the walrus hide increased. He waited for the ebullition of joy on the part of the old exsailor to subside before he began to ply him with questions. The old man continued in a gleeful tone: 'Oh, he lives, he lives! I will find him, tell him I've been true to him all these years and- take 'inr home. Won't the wind whistle joy through the rig-o-jn' o' the ship that takes us out o* this frozen. CQuntry to. Ma. wife : an' baby, an' my Kate,' Suddenly he became more composed, and, turning his eyes on Paul, asked, 'Where is he?' 'I don't know.' 'What! have you seen him and let him-escape?' ~fl could not help myself; they came and dragged him away.' ■■ ■•'

'Who?' . 'The very men who. robbed me. The reaction which came over the old man was terrible to witness. He realised that after all he might lose his beloved captain, whose life was still in danger, for he was once more a prisoner. He gave way with a groan and sank upon the snowcovered earth. Paul explained again how the hermit had been captured in the cavern after making a gallant de-

fence. 'Well, well, all may yet be lost!' he sighed. 'I yelled and danced too soon, I reckin'. Poof Kate, she'll have to wait a while longer, for I promised him I wouldn't leave until he came back, and I : won't. But, Crack Lash, let's go and hunt him. Now that! we know he is alive, we got something to hunt for, and we'll hunt him. Come, Crack Lash!'

'But the day is spent and we are both tired,' suggested Paul. 'Would it not be better for us to sit and rest a while1 before we begin this hunt? It will take deliberation to find them. Don't rush off with some unmatured plan.' After considerable persuasion he induced him ;to wait until next morning; so they built a camp fire and prepared to pass the night. 'Who made this trail?' asked Paul, alluding to the trail made by the Berry party.' :'.. , , _ \ ..

1 'It was some fejlers from the States goin' t' the Klondyke.' 'Were there many?' 'Yes, eight or ien, I reckon, an' the ijiots have got a woman in their crew.*

'A cook or washerwoman perhaps,* said Paul, absent-mindedly. .

'No, yer off the. course, mate,' the ex-sailor answered. 'She was 'no wash-woman. Only a little mite o'ia gal, fresh an' young, with cheeks like roses an' teeth white as ivory. Hope the scurvy will let 'em alone.'

Paul gave the new-comers little thought, for hisi mind was on the strange events through which he had passed, and the hope they had of finding the man who held the key to all the Klondyke gold mystery. • ; .

Next morning they were early astir, and Paul said:

'Now, Glum, before we start let's talk about where we are to go, lay out some plan, and not go blind.' 'You're right,' Crack Lash. My opinion is when a feller don't know what he is doin', he betted do nothin'.*

'Those men who robbed me and have taken the hermit away" have had him a prisoner before.'

'How d'ye know?' * ...»., . 'I gained that much by listening to their conversation.' ,

'Eeckin yer right, Crack Lash.' 'Now, where would they be most likely to take him?' 'Which way war they goin' ?'

'In a north-west direction.'

: Old Glum Kalston bowed his head in thought for a few moments and said: 'They ain't makin' for Dawson City, nor Forty Mile Gamp.' 'They wouldn't'dare go. there wjth the prisoner.' ■". 'I dun know. Believe they* just about do anything in the line o' meanness.' : v 'Have you no notion or opinion a& to who they are?' 'No.' 'Nor why they make; him a prisoner?' 'It's to keep him from goin' away from here,' said the ex-sailor. 'They won't let him leave this part 6' the> world for some reason. I know they won't. Why, I dun know. It's allers been my opinion that some one was a-keepin' him a prisoner in Alaska.' They had packed their knapsacks and were about ready to start, when Paul suggested: 'Perhaps the Walrus hide will tell something about this mystery. Let us take a look at.it.'

He unrolled the walrus hide, and the ex-sailor, who had long studied the picture writing of the Alaskan Indians, bent over it and began' to .slowly and carefully, decipher tihe pictures in the following language: 'When the sun was high on the water (that is, sh6rtly after the dawning of the long- arctic day) the old man, a woman, a young man and boy went out hunting with four sledges, drawn by dogs, driving a herd of reindeer with them. The boy strayed away and the wolves chased him, but the old.man and the young man came up and killed three wolves. The woman cang-ht some shell-fish, and altogether they loaded up five sledges with wolf-skins, walrus and seal meat.

'Then a three-mast schooner came near, put out four boats and caught seals, and the sailors came ashore, killed five deer, and took them to the ship.' At this point Glum Ealston looked up from his work of interpreting and .said: '._. •.' "*■■- ~. .:.„,,...-..-..,..., , 'That's, pur schooner the "Elei|n'qr. I remember mighty well bein' one o' the party that went ashore and helped kill the "deer."

'Go on and read it,' siaid Paul 'What else does it tell ?'...

Ealston then pointed to an .Indian with beads about his neck and continued his interpretation;

'The chief man went to the ship and had g-old' beads on his neck. The captain and two sailors went with him to find the place where the g-old was—' Here Ealston suddenly stopped a nd cried: 'It was his own sailors, the rascals, as turned on him and knocked him down. They did not kill him; see here, he is in a cave and they have guns at the door guarding him.' 'Do you think the men who recaptured him could be two of your 'former ship's crew?' 'Like as not! Like as not!' Ealston declared. • 'Why should they turn against him?

'Well, ye see, shipmate, them Injuns were onto the secret o' this Klondyke gold, which was such a mystery to us, you know. The chief—no, look h ere L_g- 0 back a little in the picture-^----it's a little Injun girl tellin' the captain soinethin'. See, here is a lot o" piles—gold, no doubt. He is diggin* an' coverin' somethin' up. The chief'B daughter told him something about the gold. They go- alone and he buries it in the ground, and they keep him a prisoner in the cave -to tell where it is. There's the story in a. nutshell.'

'But there is more.' 'Where?'

'In that corner, around the schooner. Read that.' The old man had to put all his knowledge of picture writing to the severest test to read this, for.it had been mad© Isy a different hattd1 tttaffl the Indian. There was a picture of the schooner' 'Eleanor' with- the name faintly en> craved/and over.all a fine web-like map had been drawn. There was a large river, which, after considerable effort, he managed, to make out to bb the Yukon. . " ' ■ • 'It's the Yukon, no doubt 'bout it,* said Glum Ralston; 'but why did he put the Yukon river on the drawing?' :: 'There was a reason for it.' 'I'don't see why.'., ■ - 'Perhaps this was to show the exact spot where the gold is buried.'-.; 'Yer right, Crack Lash, yer better at solvin' puzzles'n me.' 'Look at those streams,' said Paul. 'Where?' 'The branches or tributaries of the Yukon.' 'Yes.' ''■'"■!',' 'Don't you see there is a path running up from the Cbilkoot Pass?' 'Yes.' 'Now the lakes—can't you count them and tell their names?' 'Clear sailin' there, shipmate.' 'Well, look at that stream or tributary. Count from Lake Bennet and tell me what it is.' 'The ' Klondyke,' declared the exsailor. . 'Let us study this branch carefully, for there may be much in it that is useful.' 'Here is the captain and the little Injun gal pullin' sledges.' 'They contain gold, but there are four captains and four little girls.' 'That means they went four times,* 'Yes, yes, I understand. Now what do the figures here mean—a net work of them?' \ 'There's digging.' 'Don't you see-these mounds?' 'Yes.' 'What do you interpret it to mean?"

'Where the gold is buried.'

'On this creek, which is Bonanza Creek, three days from the Klondyke, the gold is buried,' declared Paul. 'Why, Glum, with this walrus hide I could find it myself.' - 'So could I.' 'No wonder the hermit, or your captain, as you choose to call him, was so particular about it.' , :, 'If them rascals got it, they would know the secret and rob the captain.' said Ralston. 'It explains what they were pleading with him to do,' said Paul. 'They were asking him to reveal the hiding place of this buried treasure.'' 'I know my captain well, and he won't do it,' declared Glum Ralston. -But here are only two sailors, and j'ou- say there was three.'

Paul thought he could account for the third, and perhaps a fourth, as additional recruits since the picture was painted on the walrus hide.

The walrus hide bid fair to prove a key that would solve the great mystery of the Klondyke, but it could give them no hint as to the whereabouts of the three men and their prisoner. 'It ain't no use to study that chart, mate,' the ex-sailor declared. 'Them chaps are hid somewar in some part not down on it, and we've just got to cruise about until we find 'em. It niay take weeks, and may take years, but we've g*ot to do it.'

Paul suddenly rolled up the walrus hide, and stuffing it into his knapsack, said:

'That piece of hide is a key to millions, I have no'doubt, and in all probability the scoundrels were trying to make him give it to them.'

'Let's *go, Crack Lash. Let's go, fur I itch to git- my fingers about the throats of the cusses.'

They hastily packed up, broke camp and" were soon on their way up the mountain, engaged in a dangerous search, the result of which they knew to be doubtful.

CHAPTER XL BERRY'S SUCCESS.

We will for the present take leave of Paul Ralston and return to Berry's party on their way to the Klondyke.

On the morning after the visit of Glum Ralston to the camp the guide awoke them and told them' to make ready for an early start.

Ethel Berry opened her eyes to gaze round on the strange wild scenery which surrounded them. She had been dreaming of civilisation and all its comforts, but awoke to find herself still in the land held in the eternal chains of ice. 'Clarence, is the Klondyke miner gone?' she asked after breakfast. 'No.' 'Do you suppose we could find Paul?' 'My dear, we dare not think of even pausing to hunt for him.' 'But think of poor Laura. She will suffer s\ich dread for him she will go insane.' Clarence was silent a few moments, and then said:

'My dear, you cannot help her, so 1 pray you do not think of it. Poor Laura; I would willingly do anything I could for her or Paul, but I am helpless.'

The strong common sense of Clarence Berry came to his aid. He knew it would be fatal to his young wife to engage in a search, for the sooner they reached camp the better it would be for them, so he repeated:

'We k must push on, my dear; we iaust push 6p»'- .•,.:••.■- She took, her place on the sledge, and he carefully wrapped the robea about her, while Umstich harnessed the dogs, all the while whistling his popular air, 'Ta-ra-boom-de-a.' 'Make the straps secure, Umstich!' said the anxious husband.--'Urn all tight—Ta-ra-boom—!' ,'You will look after this team yourself, and see that the best dogs are harnessed to it.' 'Urn do it, suah! Ta-ra-boom!' answered the Esquimaux. The Indians were taking up their packs and had already started. Clarence wrapped Ethel's scarf about her head and neck, so as to secvire her from the biting cold, and cried: 'All read}' —go!' The dogs had for some time been barking in their impatience to be away over the snow. 'Holt!' yelled the Esquimaux, and his terrible whip cracked with a report like a pistol on the frosty air. •The wild yelping steeds went bounding over the snow, which rose in a cloud-like shower behind the sledge. Some in sledges and some on snowshoes followed in the path made by the dogs and sledges. Though it was exceedingly cold, Ethel Berry had become used .to . it, and did not suffer very much. A great difficulty which they stillhad to overcome was to follow the trail. The snow continued to .fall so heavily and the" wind to blow so fiercely that they could only follow the trail with the greatest difficulty. . >, Ethel wrote to Laura that the most remarkable experience she had during the overland journey was the trip over Lake Labarge. When they reached that, point they found the lake broken up in the day time, though at night there was a thin ice, which jmade travel possible.- They saw it would be impracticable to make the portage from thereto the river, so they determined to make the trip during- '.the night,. They arrived first at Forty Mile camp, but here found nothing to do. Clarence staked out a claim anc! went to digging. It was a slow process .and the reward was poor. He took out a little gold, but not nearly enough to pay him for the hardships. Though they had their supplies, .what he made on; this first claim was hardly sufficient to pay expenses. But Clarence was not one to despair, so he kept on probing and-poking the earth and hoping for better luck. Then followed weeks of discouragement. No gold worth mentioning was taken out, and Clarence Berry began to feel,depressed. But the little woman at his side kept telling him that success was bound to come.

She proved to be no false prophet, for there came reports of the wonderful finds in the Klondyke district.

'Now is your time, Clarence,' said the brave little woman. 'Go at one& and make all you can, while there are so few in the country.'

'What shall I do with you?' he. asked. 'Leave me behind.'

'Ethel,! cannot think of doing that,* he declared.

'You must, Clarence. I will follow as soon as possible, but hasten on now and stake • out a claim for us. Stake out two, one for you and one for me. I feel that this is the turning point in our careers.' And so it proved. He was becoming discouraged over the outlook and was very imdecided what to do, because there had been so many false rumours. When he heard of the ■big' find on Bonanza Creek he was averse to taking the expensive -trip to the

country, but his wife continued to urge him to go., 'Go, Clarence; j'ou are brave ana shrewd. Use ' your judgment and hands, and you will win where many others fail.'

It was the saddest day. of his life when Clarence Berry bade adieu to his young- wife and started alone for the distant mining camp. She did not allow him to see the tears that she shed, but greeted him with a smile and bade him God-speed.

'I will soon be with you,' she said. 'Have you written t(# Fresno ?' he asked. ■t

'Yes, told Laura all about our journey from Juneau.'

'Did you mention Paul?' Then a shadow came over her pretty face, and she answered: m 'No, I said we had not seen Paul yet.' a sad shake of the head he answered: 'Ah, my dear, I fear we shall never see him. There has been no news of him since that mysterious old man came to our camp and told us of his robbery and pursuit of the robbers.' . 'Poor Laura, I pity her, and Mrs Miller, the widow. It was' cruel enough for her to lose her husband in Alaska, without the same region claiming her,son also.' 'Yes, yes—but let us n.ot think of it, dear; it will do no good.'

The parting of the husband .and wife, as the reader may imagine, was affectionate, but there were no tears. Ethel restrained them and smiled cheerfully as long as she was in sight, to run ■ into her shanty and have a little cry the moment she could see him no more.

She was not one to be long despondent. Next day she was busy breaking up the old camp and getting ready to follow him to the region where gold was reported to be so plentiful, with all the stores, and provisions left to her care. She had the faithful Umstich and two Indian porters to aid her in her .preparations. The river, which must be crossed before she could reach the Klondyke, was already beginning to show signs of floating ice, and she, knew it wquld only be. a short time before it would be completely frozen over. So she worked with a will and got everything packed and started on the little steamer 'Arctic' for the neAv land of gold. Her , husband and his party joined her on the way up the river.

It was late in the season, when thia devoted, daring- couple struck gold of any consequence. Then it came in a torrent. All through the winter Clarence Berry was piling up wealth. His wife was at the mines evey day, and as the great chunks of frozen earth were dumped on, the ground her fair fingers were busily at work picking out the nuggets. Duing the season she -picked out ten thousand dollars* worth of golden pebbles with her fingers. She had a sharp stick, which she thrust into the clods until they broke apart and gave up their treasure. The largest nugget Mrs Berry found in this way was worth two hundred and thirty-one dollars, and turned out to be the best individual prize found in. the diggings. * Though. absorbed in gold digging, she never forgot Paul, who with Glum Ralston had not been heard from since those two persons left in search for the bold men who had l-obbed the jrotith. Often, after a hard; day's toil, as they, sat by. the roaring fire in' then* shanty and listened to the howling' storm without, they discussed the fate of their young friend, whom they supposed lying dead and frozen in the mountains.

Gid Myers and Big Port had pointed out his claim and'shanty. Dick Ronold's claim was the next above it and was yielding him a fortune. One night, as they sat about their cheerful fire, there came a rap at the door of their shanty, and they found Dick Ronold asking for admission.

'Come in, Dick. What brings you out such a night and in such a storm?' asked Clarence.

'Now ye're talking, Clarence,' began. Dick, in* his peculiar mixture of Bowery and Western slang. 'This weather makes me sultry under the collar.' With this the long miner shook the snow from his fur coat, hung it up, and threw himself on the stool in front of the fire.

There was a puzzled look on Dick's honest face, and for several moments he preserved a silence while his eyes were fixed on the fire. At last he raised his head, and, looking- Clarence in the face, asked:

'Didn't I hear ye say somethin' once about knowin' the fellow called Crack Lash Paul, who used to live back there in Fresno?'

'Yes, Paul Miller,' cried Ethel, eagerly. 'We know him. What of him? Has he been found?' 'No, not as' I know of.' .. ; , 'Heard of then?' :; ■ 'No.'

'Then, what do you mean, Dick? Speak out and make yourself plain.' 'Well, if you don't drive me so fast I will. I was just goin' to say that I'm of the opinion that there's more back o' this . story about this Cracklash robbery, an' loss than before it. You know they're got one of the fellows tight and' fast whotried to help do up Paul. Well, the fellow's cocoas'ince that night's been a little rancid, Though his mental chimney is smoky an', his wick needs trimmin', I rather think that down at the bottom he ain't such a idiot as he looks. ,Fact is most anybody'd rather be a live fool than a dead philosopher, an' as soon as he shows signs enougii o' bein' on his trolley so he can enjoy it they're goin' to el&vate him so high he'll get a bird's-eye view o' the New Jerusalem, I think '

'Hold on, Dick,' cried Clarence, 'What has all this to do with. Paul? Come down to it at once.'

'Never light too soon, Clarence; it kinder jars a feller. Bub I was goin' t' tell ye that. I was set to guard him last night, and his mental train for a, minute or two seemed on the track. Then I remembered seem' him in 'Frisco. His name is Belcher, and he's one of the men that the feller from Fresno called Lackland hired the room in 'Frisco to talk with.'

At the sound of Lackland's name Ethel was on her feet, gasping:

'Lackland, Lackland! Clarence, he is Paul's rival'and enemy!'

'Hush, dear; don't draw any conclusion,' whispered her husband. 'I won't, I won't —that is, I won't now —but I am determined to see this prisoner called Belcher.' 'When do you intend to call on him?' 'To-morrow.'

'I will go with you,' said Clarence. Dick, gazing into the fire a few moments in silence, said:

'I don't know as that'll do much, good, for the feller may be crazy enough for a United. States Senator by that time.' *

They decided to run the'risk of the prisoner's lucidity, and shortly after

breakfast set off through the fallingsnow to the building set apart for a prison. The miners had agreed to each take his turn in guarding the captive, in the vain hope that he would sufficiently recover his intelligence to expose the mystery of the attack and robbery. Ethel Berry, with her husband, entered the prison, and gazed on the pale yet fierce fade* of the prisoner, and cried: 'I know him, Clarence; I know him! I saw him in Fresno in consultation with Theodore Lackland. They have planned the murder of poor Paul.' With a fierce oath the prisoner leaped at his fair, accuser, but the strong young husband seized him by the throat, and hurled him to'the opposite side of the room.

(To be Continued.)