“Well, it’s the middle of March,” the Kid enlightened him. The worst of the winter is over now. Along the last of April the ice should begin to go out.”
“And as soon as it goes out, we will be bound for home,” said Alex, happily.
“And all the fun and excitement of the city,” sighed Clay, blissfully.
“And the news stand for me and Abe,” Ike declared. “Maybe, when Abe picks up the business good, I set him up in a little stand for himself.”
As for Abe, he had nothing to say. He was content to follow fadder. Never in his whole young life had he ever been so kindly treated as since when fadder had bought him from his uncle.
At last the long cold spell broke and they awoke one morning to find the thermometer at twenty degrees below—warm weather for the Yukon.
With the break of the cold spell, the days flew past with flying footsteps, for there was always something to pass the time out in the bracing cold of the gradually lengthening days. There were snow shoe races and even dog racing, in which the Yukon Kid’s team was always beaten, much to Kid’s disgust. But most entertaining of all was the search for the treasure which the boys all firmly believed in, though the Kid only smiled at their fruitless efforts. “Go to it,” he advised them. “It keeps you busy and makes the time pass quicker,” and go to it they did with all their youthful ardor. First they cleaned out the snow heaps in the lonely cabin, but found nothing to reward their search but a few pitiful battered cooking utensils and a scanty store of food. But they built a fire in the cabin and with shovels heated over it, dug up the frozen ground inside in search of concealed riches. In the center of the shore of the cove, they sank a prospect hole, keeping a fire going all the time, except when they raked it to one side to remove the thawed-out earth. In time they reached bed rock and tested thoroughly the pile of dirt they had accumulated, only to find that not a trace of color appeared in the pans.
While they had worked a change had slowly been taking place around them. The air had been growing sensibly warmer and the heat of the sun was gradually making itself felt. The snow was slowly melting from the knolls and forming tiny rivulets that trickled their way down to the river. Spring was at hand.
It was after the failure of the prospect hole they had sunk, that they all gathered together on the Rambler’s deck one noon for a little after dinner chat.
“Well, I expect we might as well give up looking for the treasure,” said Alex, disconsolately. “We have done all we can.”