Chapter VIII. Wherein Boyd Admits His Failure - Page 2

Chicago." Boyd smiled.

"Fingerless" Fraser came to them from the lighted regions amidship, greeting them cheerfully.

"Well, we're pretty near there, ain't we? I'm glad of it; I've about cleaned up this ship."

The adventurer had left his companions alone much of the time during the trip--greatly to Boyd's relief, for the fellow was an unconscionable bore --and had thus allowed them time to perfect their plans and thresh out numberless details.

"I grabbed another farmer's son at supper--just got through with him. He was good for three-fifty."

"Three hundred and fifty dollars?" questioned Balt.

"Yep! I opened a little stud game for him. Beats all how these suckers fall for the old stuff."

"Where did you get money to gamble with?" inquired Boyd.

"Oh! I won a pinch of change last night in a bridge game with that Dawson Bunch."

"But it must have required a bank-roll to sit in a game with them. They seem to be heavy spenders. How did you manage that?"

"I sold some mining property the day before. I got the captain of the ship." Fraser chuckled.

"Did you swindle that old fellow?" Emerson cried, angrily. "See here! I won't allow--"

"Swindle! Who said I 'swindled' anybody? I wouldn't trim my worst enemy."

"You have no mining claims."

"What makes you think I haven't? Alaska is a big country."

"You told me so."

"Well, I didn't have any claims at that time, but since we came aboard of this wagon at Juneau I have improved each shining hour. While you and George was building canneries I was rustling. And I did pretty well, if I do say it as shouldn't."

Emerson shrugged his broad shoulders. "You will get into trouble! If you do, I won't come to your rescue. I have helped you all I can."

"Not me!" denied the self-satisfied Fraser. "There ain't a chance. Why? Because I'm on the level, I am. That's why. But say, getting money from these Reubs is a joke. It's like kicking a lamb in the face." He clinked some gold coins in his pocket and began to whistle noiselessly. "When do we pull out for Chi?" he next inquired.

"We?" said Emerson. "I told you I would take you as far as Seattle. I can't stand for your 'work.' I think you had better stop here, don't you?"

"Perhaps it is for the best," Fraser observed, carelessly. "Time alone can tell." He bade them good-night and disappeared to snatch a few hours' sleep, but upon their arrival at the dock on the following morning, without waiting for an invitation he bundled himself into their carriage and rode to the hotel, registering immediately beneath them. They soon lost sight of