JEFF.
"Jeff, you can't be in earnest; you are past threescore—"
"Sixty-four last month," he interrupted; "let's git it right."
"And you are in no need of money; besides it is a hard matter to find any place in California where it is worth your while—"
"But it ain't Californy," he broke in again; "it's the Klondike country. No use of talking," he added with warmth, "there's richer deposits in Alaska and that part of the world than was ever found hereabouts. I've got a friend, Tim McCabe, at Juneau; he's been through the Klondike country, and writes me there's no mistake about it; he wants me to join him. I'm going to do it, and your boy Roswell and his cousin Frank are to go with me. Oh, it's all settled," said Jeff airily; "the only question is how soon you can git him ready. A day oughter be enough."
The husband and wife looked at each other in astonishment. They had not dreamed of anything like this; but if the truth were told, Mr. Palmer had been so wrought up by the wonderful stories that were continually coming from Alaska and British Columbia, that he was seriously thinking of joining the northward-bound procession.
Startling as was the announcement of Jeff Graham, a discussion of the scheme brought out more than one fact to recommend it. The youths were in perfect health, strong and athletic. Jeff volunteered to provide all the funds needed, and his early experience in mining and his love for the boys made him an invaluable guide and companion despite his years. He had turned over in his mind every phase of the question, and met each objection the affectionate mother brought forward, alarmed as she was at the thought of having her boy go so many miles from under her care.
"It will be necessary to talk with Roswell about it," said the father, after the conversation had lasted a considerable while.
"No, it won't; I've talked with him, and he's as crazy as me to go."
"But what will Frank's mother say?"