“Good,” approved Clay, “while you are gone Ike and I will cook up a big supper. We have been on rather short rations today.”
“Ike,” he said, as soon as the meal was well started, “come on up on deck with me, I want to talk with you a little.”
“Now, Ike,” he said as soon as they were seated close together on the cabin top. “I don’t want to pry into your personal secrets, but I do want to know something about those two men and why they are following us so closely. They nearly finished us off today. Next time they may be more successful. Now we want to know all we can about these men so as to know how to deal with them when we meet them again, as I feel sure we will. Wait a minute and I’ll read you something.” He took out a slip of the papers they had bought the morning they left Chicago and read the account of the holdup and robbery. “Pretty desperate men I should call them,” he commented. “Highway men, burglars, and almost murderers, in our case, at least. I think you had ought to tell us all about them.”
Ike’s face filled with trouble and anxiety and it was a full minute before he replied. “You are a man, may own a secret and be so bound by promise laid on him by some one else, that he is not free to tell it, you understand, but all I am free to tell you, I’ll tell you, Clay, tell it to you honestly.”
“I’ll believe you, Ike,” said Clay quietly.
“Well, you hear me speak often of my uncle. My uncle was a great man in the old country, a student and a scientist. He was rich, too, very rich, but instead of spending his time at court, he was all the time going amongst the poor, teaching, helping, and giving money where it was needed most. It’s a crime in Russia for a Jew to do like that, so the Little Father pretty soon takes away all his moneys and sends him to the mines in Siberia to work all his life, but, after eight years, they let him go, and we sent him the money to come to us in good America. But, after he come, he was not content. He wanted so bad to work, but his fingers were twisted and stiff from handling pick and shovel in the cold, so he could not get work in the sweat shops. That made him sad. Then one day comes the news of gold in Alaska and next morning uncle was gone, just leaving a little note saying that he was not going to be a burden on us any longer.” There was a dry sob in the lad’s throat at the recollection of the note, but he bravely conquered his emotion and went on. “About eight months later, we got a letter saying he had got to the Yukon and would send us some money in the spring, soon as the mining commenced. About every six months after that there comes a kind, cheery letter, but no money. Uncle’s not what you call a business man, he all the time dreams big dreams about helping the people, you understand. I believe he finds but little gold and much suffering on the Yukon.”
“But where do those two men come in?” asked Clay.
“They bring me a letter from him last fall. The moment they gave it to me I see it had been opened, but I kept quiet, and reads it while they keeps telling me they were my uncle’s partners and what a good friend they were of his. Then they ask me what was in the letter and I tells them I can’t say until I see my uncle and that I don’t understand it plain because there was a big piece torn off the bottom. All that winter they keep at me about that letter and all the time I tell them the same thing.
“I did some worrying that winter and I gets to thinking about the long trips you boys take every summer and makes no money, and I thinks that there’s a good chance for them boys to make a little money and a good chance for me to go too. So I kept at you about going till I gits you interested and you decided to go. I’m sorry now. Clay, honestly, Clay, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” said Clay cheerily. “Jump down into the kitchen and stir up that stew and set the coffee back. I can smell it boiling.”