Part 88 (2/2)
”It's money in your pocket pretty nearly every time you don't take up a claim. Why, on Hunter alone they've spent twenty thousand dollars this winter.”
”And how much have they taken out?”
With index-finger and thumb Salaman made an ”O,” and looked shrewdly through it.
”It's an awful gamble,” he repeated solemnly.
”It doesn't seem possible there's _nothing_ left,” reiterated the Boy, incredulous of such evil luck.
”Oh, I'm not saying you may not make something by getting on some other fellow's property, if you've a mind to pay for it. But you'd better not take anything on trust. I wouldn't trust my own mother in Alaska.
Something in the air here that breeds lies. You can't believe anybody, yourself included.” He laughed, stooped, and picked a little nugget out of the dump. ”You'll have the same man tell you an entirely different story about the same matter within an hour. Exaggeration is in the air.
The best man becomes infected. You lie, he lies, they all lie. Lots of people go crazy in Alaska every year--various causes, but it's chiefly from believing their own lies.”
They returned to Rampart.
It was decidedly inconvenient, considering the state of their finances, to have thrown away that five hundred dollars on McGinty. They messed with Keith, and paid their two-thirds of the household expenses; but Dawson prices reigned, and it was plain there were no Dawson prizes.
”Well,” said the Colonel in the morning, ”we've got to live somehow till the ice goes out.” The Boy sat thinking. The Colonel went on: ”And we can't go to Dawson cleaned out. No tellin' whether there are any proper banks there or whether my Louisville instructions got through.
Of course, we've got the dogs yet.”
”Don't care how soon we sell Red and Spot.”
After breakfast the Boy tied Nig up securely behind Keith's shack, and followed the Colonel about with a hara.s.sed and watchful air.
”No market for dogs now,” seemed to be the general opinion, and one person bore up well under the news.
But the next day a man, very splashed and muddy, and obviously just in from the gulches, stopped, in going by Keith's, and looked at Nig.
”Dog market's down,” quoted the Boy internally to hearten himself.
”That mahlemeut's for sale,” observed the Colonel to the stranger.
”These are.” The Boy hastily dragged Red and Spot upon the scene.
”How much?”
”Seventy-five dollars apiece.”
The man laughed. ”Ain't you heard the dog season's over?”
”Well, don't you count on livin' to the next?”
The man pushed his slouch over his eyes and scratched the back of his head.
”Unless I can git 'em reasonable, dogs ain't worth feedin' till next winter.”
”I suppose not,” said the Boy sympathetically; ”and you can't get fish here.”
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