“You’re only an amateur. You just repeat words you have heard others use. You had ought to coin your words, have them nice and fresh and new all the time.”
“That’s a hard thing to do,” said the officer, gloomily.
“Pshaw, it’s easy,” Alex declared. “Just buy an automobile and run it yourself for six months and you’ll be a different man.”
The roar of laughter from the crowd above was as incense to Alex’s soul.
“The lad’s right,” said a serious-minded little man. “I used to own one in the States and I would hate to say half the things I used to think when I used to have to lay on my back under the car in maybe six inches of mud, wrastling away with a monkey wrench.”
Just then the Kid slid nimbly down a rope to the Rambler’s deck. Clay shouted to Alex to steer off from the steamer and as soon as he saw the order was obeyed, he moved the timer ahead at full speed and the Rambler shot away from her big, clumsy sister.
“Good-bye,” shouted Alex to the officer. “We hate to leave you but we got tired of staying in one place all the time. We’ll see you at Dawson if you’re lucky enough to get up there before the river freezes over.” But the officer was standing speechless, his mouth agape at the Rambler’s wonderful burst of speed.
As for the Yukon Kid, he slipped down on the deck and grabbed the funnel with both hands as though afraid the boat would slip out from under him. Gradually the startled look died out of his eyes to be replaced by a glint of humor. “This is one on me, boys,” he acknowledged. “It’s more than one, it’s a full baker’s dozen,” he grinned. “Just think of my begging the captain to slow up until I got safe back aboard. And me being so sure that we must have passed you during the night. I never dreamed a boat so small could run so fast, but I must go back on the steamer. I’ve got the mail locked up in my cabin, but I am supposed to guard it all the time.”
“Was that some mail you was guarding so close up there, Mr. Kid?” asked Ike, innocently.
The Kid ignored the question though he blushed deeply. “I’ve got something to give you that may be some use to you. I’ve got a copy of it at Nome so you needn’t hesitate about taking it. It’s pretty well thumbed and torn, but I guess you can make it out all right.” He unrolled a stiff paper and spread it out on the deck. It was a complete map of the Yukon. “I made it and it’s true to a hair,” said the Kid with pride. “Take it and keep it. It can be trusted where the government charts can’t. I’ve marked in red ink where the best Indian villages are.”