That Frank, Hugh, and George had not returned to their tent the night after the council of war on the Dome was due to nothing more than the fact that they had gone to town with Long Shorty, and had stayed the night in his cabin. They did not appear in the saloons and dance-halls because they had decided upon Baxter's Free Library as down-town headquarters. Hence it was that two astute policemen had made wrong deductions; and while Constable Hope was haunting the resorts on the creeks for them, they were actually in the heart of the metropolis.

The selection of Baxter's Free Library was the result of the astuteness of Long Shorty. He knew the place. Only in Dawson would it have been worthy of the name of library, as the number of volumes was limited to a score or so. There were also several newspapers there, which, though thumbed and scrawled upon and tattered, were the latest the camp contained.

Access to these newspapers and books was free, the revenue of the establishment being derived from a lunch counter. As the building was located one street back from that which ran along the water front, the rent paid was comparatively small; and the proprietor was able to serve a roll and a cup of coffee for fifty cents, and a plate of stew, made of bully beef, or pork and beans, for a dollar and a half, which was about 33 per cent. cheaper than fashionable prices!

The combination of comparatively cheap food and free reading drew to Baxter's many of those who had ample time upon their hands, with little or no money in their pockets, and who were unwilling, or unable, to perform the heavy labour of mining operations on the creeks. They were of the educated and semi-educated classes; and among their motley members Long Shorty guessed that many desperate characters might be found. A winter—the most severe in which white people lived—would be upon them in a few short months.

The plan of campaign decided upon was that each of the four conspirators should enter the reading-room, engage in reading, and gradually draw possible recruits into conversation—which in free-and-easy Dawson would not be difficult to do.

Long Shorty was not long in picking out his man. He seemed the ordinary type of prospector, well-set-up and muscular; his dress was of good quality, by which it was to be inferred that his outfit would be large, and in all probability would include a rifle or two with ammunition. He was reading a copy of Shakespeare.

Long Shorty sat beside him, and picked up a copy of the Bible. Bibles and the works of William Shakespeare were the most common volumes in Dawson in the summer of '98. Long Shorty turned over the pages, read a verse, then put down the book, and sighed.

"Well, stranger," he said, "what do you think of things?"

"Damned bad."

"They sure are; but what are you going to do about it?"

"Just about the same as the rest; get out of the country as soon as I can. Isn't that what you're going to do?"

"I guess so—after I've made my pile!"

"Well, if you get away with a pile, I reckon you'll have to make two: one for yourself and one for the grafters."

"There may be a change."

"You must have been listening to the fellow down at the Borealis the other night."

"Perhaps I was," said Long Shorty significantly.

"And you think those fellows will ever do more than talk?"

"Well, you know how many police there are, and how many there are of the others. The police are armed with old Winchesters, twenty years behind the times! Looks like the insurrectoes might have a chance if they got together and had ammunition and rifles."

"There are lots of both among the crowd, I guess. I have a 303 and a thousand cartridges; that is, five shots for every policeman in the country." He spoke with some bitterness.

Long Shorty rightly concluded that here was a spirit who only wanted a leader. To make doubly sure he thought he would draw him a little and see how much real mutiny was in his heart; so he said,

"But there are the claim-owners, grafters, and other civilians who might aid the police."

"Not much! The claim-owners wouldn't, except possibly those who got their holdings through Poo-Bah. The fellows who got their claims straight would know a new Government would do them more good than harm."

The speaker then, as if tired of politics, pointedly went on with his reading; his mind was absorbing the philosophy of the melancholy Jacques.

Long Shorty's sensibilities were not of the finest, and he refused to consider the conversation closed; so he asked the direct question,

"What would you do if the boys got up?"

"Nothing!—I'd do nothing. It's no use considering it: I'm off down the river on a steamer leaving to-morrow. I'm going to work my way as a wood-passer to St. Michael's, after which I'll trust to luck for getting to 'Frisco. But if the boys are really going to rise, they have my good wishes. I tried to sell my rifle to-day, and the best offer I could get was five dollars—and I told the fellow I'd chuck it into the Yukon first. If you are going to stay I'll make you a present of it, to be given to the boys if they want it."

The man was going home. Long Shorty felt there was no use in attempting to hold him; so he answered in such a manner as to accept the offer, and yet not compromise himself. He said, "I don't mind taking the rifle and the cartridges and holding them in case things do happen—though I may be away on the creeks at the time."

"All right, I leave them with Baxter here; you can call for them to-morrow." Again he returned to the Forest of Arden, and Long Shorty permitted the conversation to close.

In the meantime, the other three had been hard at work. George met one Australian whose sentiments were so pronounced that he quickly closed with him; and as the recruit knew several others in the library, the agitation made good progress.

It was agreed by the reformers and the new recruits that they should all meet later in the day at Lookout Point, which was the angle of the Klondike Bluffs, where the valley of the Klondike met that of the Yukon. In later years a seat and a flag-staff were erected there, and it became a favourite trysting-place for young men and maidens engaged in another quest than that of gold.

This arrangement settled, George set off to report to Berwick, while the others, still looking for more of the rightly disaffected, drifted into the different saloons.

Berwick was delighted at their present success, and was eager to meet the party at Lookout Point. He felt that if so many adherents could be gained by such a small canvass, three or four thousand devoted armed men, at least, could be recruited from Dawson and its environs. The outlook was hopeful.