Then it was that Swanson gathered all that was left of his fast disappearing courage, and said: "In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, are you demon, man or ghost?"
Suddenly the door opened and in the uncertain, misty light the apparition raised its hands to the stars as if in prayer, then it grew dark and the ghostly visitor vanished as if the earth had engulfed it forever.
While turning this tale over in mind later, I came to the conclusion, which seems a reasonable one, that some fortunate miner had, in all probability, hidden an amount of golden treasure in or about the cabin on the creek, and wishing to keep others away, had circulated the ghost story with good effect.
When Eagle City was reached I telegraphed my brother to meet me at the steamer's dock in Dawson, and my message was sent by one of Uncle Sam's boys in blue in charge of the office.
The town had grown considerably in the two years since I visited it, and now boasted new government buildings, officer's quarters, and a Presbyterian church, besides new stores and shops.
After Cudahy and Forty Mile, came Dawson, and we steamed up to the city's dock in the morning fog, and were met by the usual multitude of people, I having been seventeen days out from Golovin Bay. There, among others, waited my brother and his little son, and my joy at meeting them was great. Landing, it was only a walk of a few minutes to my kind old father, and my brother's wife was not far away.
I was now practically at home, for home is where our dear ones are, and surroundings are matters of small moment.
Three happy weeks followed, I went everywhere and noted well the improvements in the camp since I last saw it. It was now a cleaner town every way, with better order, good roads and bridges, new government buildings, post-office and fine large schoolhouse. New frame churches replaced the old log ones in most cases. There was the governor's new palatial residence which would never be graced by the presence of its mistress as she and her babe had gone down to death a few weeks before in the Islander disaster in Lynn Canal; and there was the same steady stream of gold from the wondrous Klondyke Creeks, which I was now determined to visit.
