“He visited New York on this trip, and caused something of a sensation even there while his money held out. His diversions are innocent, turning largely to investments in food and drink, a tendency born, I suppose, of long privations in the Arctic. His most humorous exploit on this trip was entering the most fashionable restaurant in the metropolis, and ordering fifty dollars worth of ham and eggs, after vainly attempting to make out the French of the bill of fare.”
Colonel Snow and the boys laughed, and the former said:
“I presume little of his money is really spent on himself.”
“No,” said the Captain. “He is the soul of generosity and scatters it right and left. Of course, a good deal of it goes to the leeches who cluster around such characters in the cities. Still, although he has the average pioneer’s contempt for Indians and Eskimos he has given liberally to the missions which are civilizing them. He may make another fortune, but I believe he will die poor.”
“D-d-did he eat all that order of ham and eggs?” asked Pepper with interest.
“Well, I hardly think so,” smiled the Captain. “I doubt if the order was really served. Head waiters of these big restaurants have very diplomatic ways.”
“Captain Huxley, what is a ‘Sourdough’? I heard you apply the word to Swiftwater Jim,” said Jack, on the alert for information.
“The aristocracy of the Alaskan mining camp,” replied the officer. “The man who has been at least a year in the territory, and is ‘wise’ as you boys say, to its methods and manners, and inured to its hardships and its climate. For a time you’ll belong to the ‘Chee-chak-O’ class.”
“What is that?” asked Rand.
“The Indian name for what the men on the Canadian ranches called ‘tenderfeet,’” replied Colonel Snow.