"W'en you go?"
"Just as soon as I can get an outfit together."
"Me—I'm goin' 'long."
"Going along! Will you go?"
'Merican Joe nodded: "You skookum tillicum. 'Merican Joe, she dead—she starve—she froze—you com' 'long, mak' de fire—give de grub—I ain' dead no mor'. I go 'long."
"Do you think there's a good chance to prospect over there? What's the formation?"
"I ain' know mooch 'bout dat, w'at you call, fo'mation. Plent' riv—plent' crick. Mebbe-so plent' gol'—I ain' know. But, on de barrens is Injuns. W'en I com' way from de Innuit, I fin' um. Dey got plent' fur. Eef you got nuff stake for tradin' outfit you mak' de beeg money—you ain' care eef de gol' aint' dere."
"You meaning trading with the Indians—free trading?"
"Yes—de free traders skin 'em—dey cheat 'em—an' sell de hooch——"