Sam had listened to what was going on and now he and Dick walked to the far end of the cabin, to talk in whispers.
"He isn't over it yet, Sam. And it almost looks as if he never would get over it, that is, altogether." Dick's face showed his deep concern.
"Oh, Dick, don't say that! He's got to get over it! Oh, if only we could get some first class doctor to do something!"
"Well, we've got to get to some city first—Dawson or some other place."
"Here is news!" cried Jack Wumble, coming forward at that instant. "Tony tells me that there will be a party going through to Dawson inside of a week or ten days. He advises that we wait till they go and go with 'em."
"It will be much safer," said Tony Bings "It's a fearful journey alone—in sech weather."
"Who are those folks who are going?" asked Dick.
"One of the men who run the Yukon Supply Depot at Crovet, twenty-four miles from here. He will come along with four or five of his helpers, and most likely a dog train, and he always stops here."
"That will be all right—but a week or ten days—that's a long time to wait," and Dick sighed.
After that Tony Bings told his story, how he had come to that neighborhood and "struck it rich," as he confided to Jack Wumble. He was very enthusiastic about the diggings back of his cabin, and in the end got Wumble to promise to join him in his hunt for gold in the Spring.