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No share in any mine save that the knowledge that he was not among the vast majority who sit dully to the end beside what things they were born to the earnings of other men, the savings of other women, afraid to go seeking after better lest they lose the good they have. They had failed, but it could never be said of a Klondyker that he had not tried.
They gathered at the docks and told one another they wouldn't leave Dawson for fifty thousand dollars, then looked at the "failures" with home-sick eyes, remembering those months before the luckiest Klondyker could hear from the world outside. Between now and then, what would have come to pass up here, and what down there below! The Boy had got a place for Muckluck in the A. C. Store.
Never stirring, he found a voice to say, "I'm not askin' you to stay" the other turned and whistled, for Nig had retired again to the seclusion of the gray blanket screen "I only want to tell you something before you go." The Boy frowned a little, but rested his pack against the table in that way in which the Klondyker learns to make a chair-back of his burden.
"You better be glad you've got a whole skin of your own and ain't smellin' brimstone," said the Colonel, pouring a little more whisky down the unthankful throat. "Pretty sort o' Klondyker you are go and get nearly drowned first day out!" Several Pymeut women came in presently and joined the men at the fire, chattering low and staring at the Colonel and the Boy.
The rich Klondyker and the poor one stood together looking in at the water, still low, still slipping softly over polished pebbles, catching at the sunlight, winking, dimpling, glorifying flint and jasper, agate and obsidian, dazzling the uncommercial eye to blind forgetfulness of the magic substance underneath. Austin gathered up, one by one, a handful of the shining stones, and tossed them out.
"I ain't," said another with a dazed expression a Klondyker carrying home his frying-pan, the one thing, apparently, saved out of the wreck. "You think you ain't comin' back? Just wait! Once you've lived up here, the Outside ain't good enough fur yer." "Right!" said an old Forty-miler, "you can try it; but Lord! how you'll miss this goll-darn Yukon."
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