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Updated: June 12, 2025
Nort and Dick, though "tenderfeet" at the beginning, had quickly fallen into the ways of the west, and in the first volume of this series, "The Boy Ranchers," I was privileged to tell you how they helped solve a mystery that revolved around Diamond X. This mystery had to do with two college professors, and a strange, ancient animal.
The Irishman forged his way through the crowd like a pile-driver, and Frona followed easily in the lee of his bulk. The tenderfeet watched them reverently, for to them they were as Northland divinities. The buzz of conversation rose again. "Who's the girl?" somebody asked. And just as Frona passed inside the door she caught the opening of the answer: "Jacob Welse's daughter.
They wrapped themselves in heavy coats or blankets against the biting chill of an October night after a day so hot the tenderfeet sweltered and blistered under the midday sun. The next morning there was frost, with the air sharp and fresh. The Smiths tried to feed the shivering, hungry seekers. The seekers always seemed to be hungry.
"You can't last long at that, my boy." Phillips smiled cheerfully. "I don't have to last much longer. I sent a thousand dollars to Dyea this morning by Jim McCaskey, one of the fellows I live with. He's going to put it in Healy he's altogether different to us tenderfeet. He made me rather ashamed of myself." The elderly man nodded. "Most pioneers are big-calibered.
Hardy, for they felt their new guide was watching them closely. If he had any fault to find he did not mention it. It was a pleasant afternoon, and, once they were out in the open country, after ascending a slight rise, the boys let their animals out. They found them plenty speedy enough. "Not so bad for tenderfeet," muttered Rattlesnake Jim, under his breath.
"I have something to say, Hank, and it's about them young tenderfeet: I've seen Motoza." "When?" "This morning." "Did you give him my message?" "Every word of it, as I received it from Bok-kar-oo; I made it as strong as I could." "You couldn't make it any too strong; how did he take it?"
The party consisted of Sile J., Old Al, Eli J. and the writer. The two first were gray-haired men, the others past thirty; all the same, they called us "the boys." The weather was not inviting and there was small danger of our camp being invaded by summer outers or tenderfeet.
He allowed one word only to escape his lips "Johnson!" "What tenderfeet we are!" I groaned. "Lineal descendants of the Good Samaritan. Well, he has had a long start, but we must catch him." "If it should not be Johnson?" "Conan would have nailed anybody else." This was unanswerable, for Conan guarded our safe whenever there was anything in it worth guarding.
"Oh! well, the more the merrier," came from a third, whom Paul knew to be the scout leader of the "Eagles" in person, "and after all, we don't mind showing these tenderfeet scouts how to do stunts. None of us want to be hogs, boys. There's room enough for all, even if some do have to eat the husks." Paul had to laugh out loud at this.
He met Courtrey face to face in Corvan one day and spoke to him civilly, but Courtrey did not speak. Wylackie Bob did, however a sneering salutation that was a covert insult. Kenset touched his hat with dignity and passed on. "Of all th' tenderfeet!" said Baston, watching the small by-play. "I b'lieve you could spit on him, boys."
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