Klondike Nuggets | Page 8

of the
Yukon, all crossing by separate paths the range of mountains along the
coast. They are the Dyea or Chilkoot Pass, the Chilkat, Moore's or
White Pass, and Takon. At this writing the Chilkoot is the favorite,
because it is better known than the others, but the facilities for passing
through this entrance or doorway to the new El Dorado are certain to be
greatly increased at an early day.
It was learned on inquiry that another day would have to be spent in the
town before the little steamer would leave for Dyea. While Tim and
Jeff stayed at the hotel, talking over old times and laying plans for the
future, the boys strolled through the streets, which were knee-deep with
mud.
The curio shops on Front and Seward streets were interesting, and from
the upper end of the latter street they saw a path leading to the Auk
village, whose people claim to own the flats at the mouth of Gold
Creek. On the high ground across the stream is a cemetery containing a
number of curious totemic carvings, hung with offerings to departed
spirits. It would cost a white man his life to disturb any of them.
It was early in the afternoon that the cousins were strolling aimlessly
about and had turned to retrace their steps to the hotel, when Frank
touched the arm of his companion and said, in a low voice:
"Roswell, do you know that a strange man has been following us for
the past hour?"

[Illustration: "ROSWELL, DO YOU KNOW THAT STRANGE MAN
HAS BEEN FOLLOWING US FOR THE PAST HOUR?"]
"No; where is he?"
"On the other side of the street and a little way behind us. Don't look
around just now. I don't fancy his appearance."
A minute later, Roswell managed to gain a good view.
"I don't like his looks as well as he seems to like ours. Shall we wait for
him and ask him his business?"
"No need of that, for he is walking so fast, he will soon be up with us.
Here he comes, as if in a great hurry."
A few minutes later the boys were overtaken by the suspicious stranger.
CHAPTER III.
UP THE LYNN CANAL.
Roswell and Frank were standing in front of one of the curio stores,
studying the interesting exhibits, among which was a pan of Klondike
gold, but they kept watch of the stranger, who slouched up to them and
halted at the side of Frank.
"I say, pards," he said in the gruff, wheedling tones of the professional
tramp, "can't you do something for a chap that's down on his luck?"
As the lads turned to face him they saw an unclean, tousled man, very
tall, with stooping shoulders, protruding black eyes, spiky hair, and a
generally repellent appearance.
"What's the trouble?" asked Frank, looking into the face that had not
been shaven for several days.
"Had the worst sort of luck; got back from Klondike two days ago with
thirty thousand dollars, and robbed of every cent. I'm dead broke."

"You seem to have had enough to buy whiskey," remarked Roswell,
who had had a whiff of his breath, and placed no faith in his story. The
man looked angrily at them, but restrained himself, in hopes of
receiving help.
"There's where you're mistaken, my friends; I haven't had anything to
eat for two days, and when a stranger offered me a swallow of whiskey
to keep up my strength, I took it, as a medicine. If it hadn't been for that,
I'd have flunked right in the street--sure as you live. What are you
doing, if I may ask, in Juneau?"
"We are listening to you just now, but we are on our way to the gold
fields," replied Roswell.
"Not alone?"
"We are going with two men, one of whom has been there before."
"That's more sensible. Let me give you a little advice--"
"We really do not feel the need of it," interposed Roswell, who liked
the man less each minute. "You must excuse us, as we wish to join
them at the hotel. Good-day."
"See here," said the fellow angrily, as he laid his hand on the arm of
Frank; "ain't you going to stake me a bit?"
The lad shook off his grasp.
"Even if we wished to do so, we could not, for our friend at the hotel
has all the funds that belong to our party. Perhaps if you go there, and
he believes the story, Mr. Graham may do something for you, but Tim
McCabe has not the means with which to help anybody."
At mention of the Irishman's name the fellow showed some agitation.
Then, seeing that he was about to lose the expected aid, he uttered a
savage