“Don’t say that!” Her finger touched his lips. “It’s all very real to him.”
“Well, anyway, we are now across the river, and if we follow the route the Corporal has marked out for us we will be going almost directly toward the spot your grandfather has marked for Timmie’s cabin.
“So,” he said, reading the surprise and joy in her eye, “the longest way round is the shortest way home, after all! See!” He pointed to a spot on the map. “See. There is the camp of the Eskimo. And here, just a short way across the tundra, then over these low mountains, is Timmie’s cabin and the—the green gold.”
“So in choosing to be of service to the natives, Grandfather was really serving himself,” the girl said as they returned to their places before the fire. “How often life is like that.”
“Green gold.” She repeated the words thoughtfully after a time. “Do you suppose there is any such thing?”
“Yes, of course there is,” said Johnny. “They use it for making jewelry, rings, watch-cases and the like. But where it comes from I haven’t the least notion.”
“Is—is it very valuable?”
“Why yes, it must be.”
“And if there was a lot of it, a mine or something, and Grandfather has a share, we would be—might be—”
“Quite rich.”