“I guess I’ll be making Dawson to-morrow.”
“Nonsense! If you succeed in getting food there, it will be at famine price. Better stay. 275 Nay, I insist. It isn’t often we have the pleasure of meeting good company, and we claim you as guests for at least two days.”
Jim glanced at Angela and saw her mouth twitch. For some reason Angela was keen to get away, but nevertheless there was sound reasoning in Devinne’s argument. At Dawson food would fetch a fabulous price, until the freights could bring in bigger supplies. Devinne, with his acute business acumen, had insured a certain supply by ordering the stuff at the close of the last season and paying freightage in advance.
Jim intimated that he would wait for the arrival of the food, much to Angela’s chagrin and to Natalie’s unconcealed joy.
“We’ll have to rig you up a bed in the next room, Conlan,” said Devinne. “We only boast one spare room upstairs, and ladies come first—even in Alaska.”
“Sure!”
“So you’ve no luck at prospecting?”
“Nope. I guess we came too late.”
Devinne shook his head.
“This country is full of gold, but it’s just luck in finding it. I know old-timers who have 276 mushed their legs off without striking a cent. On the other hand young Cheechakos, without a grain of experience, have gone straight to the gold and made millions. You aren’t giving up?”