Frank Corte, "mushing" through to Dawson from Dominion Creek, took his time comfortably and arrived on the second evening. He danced till five in the morning, after which, as was natural, he lay down and slept. Accordingly it was not until the evening after his arrival that he gave a thought to his three companions, and began to search for them by visiting the Borealis, and going the round of the dance-halls and gambling-saloons. He found George and Hugh, who were together, but not John.

Something must surely have happened to him! George Bruce had visited his den several times lately; he was not there. At last by inquiry at the police station they learnt that he had hurt himself by falling when climbing to the Dome, and had been taken to St. George's Private Hospital.

It was about nine in the evening when the three friends visited him in the ward.

"Hello, what's wrong now?" Frank cried; "better than typhoid anyway."

Alice rose in indignation at the noise and clatter; but seeing John smile, reseated herself. Frank was broadly grinning.

"Alice, this is Frank Corte, my good friend, George Bruce and Hugh Spencer, my pards; now you know personally the good fellows I've told you about."

Alice shook hands with them, and there was a moment of some awkwardness, which Frank broke by saying, "Here," as he laid a large poke of gold on John's chest.

"Where did you get it?" asked he.

Frank took a sly glance at Alice—in fact, he had already taken several. She was certainly attractive, and had impressed him. His usual vocabulary was insufficient in the circumstances. He gave a sniff.

"I applicationed the principles of childish lore to the exigencies of existence in a land of graft and corruption; I lubricated the wheels of the flow of justice and distracted this here gold-dust from Poo-Bah."

"Who?" inquired Alice, frankly laughing.

"Poo-Bah—he's the high mucky-muck round here, sort of 'man Friday' to the Octopus who's got his tentacles round these here environs."

"How did you get the dust?" asked John again, as with critical eyes he estimated the value of the contents of the poke.

"Well, I was sitting in front of our cabin on the claims with my brain working and my eyes on the 'quivi-vivi,' as them Frenchers would say, and I was ebolluting hot, and then I thought of grease! So I gets some lubricating oil, and then Nature does the rest; of course I was the instrument whereby the oil was placed in the sluices."

John grasped Frank's meaning and method. It flashed upon him at the mention of the lubricating oil.

"What do you mean to do with this gold?" Berwick asked.

"You are going to keep it."

"Oh, no, I can't do that; why give it to me? Why to me more than to Hugh?"

"Oh, he can get more. He's coming with me to God's country."

"Where?" asked Alice, more than ever bewildered.

"To God's country—the new strike down in Alaska; there'll be no Poo-Bah there, and plenty of shot-gun justice."

"But there's George's interest."

"George! Oh, he will put his up with ours O.K., I guess." Here Frank again looked at Alice. "I guess you'll be needing that stuff if parsons charge like other folks do!"

John smiled at this, and Alice blushed. Leaving the friends together, for she knew they would wish to talk, she went from the room.

"No, no, Frank, it won't do." Then, seeing that Corte looked troubled, he added, "I'll take a quarter if you like; you've proved yourself a comrade. But what's this about the new strike?"

"Big gold excitement—richer than Bonanza and Eldorado, and, best of all, in God's country; you'll be coming?"

"I—no, you must remember my work. Are you for giving up our enterprise to get justice done here and in other goldfields?"

"Sure thing, me and Hugh, in fact, everything that don't wear hobbles is going."

"And leave all this wrong unrighted?"

"Sure thing; this ain't my country. I'm going where things can be made right overnight, and there ain't no yellow-legs."

"And you, Hugh, are you going to Alaska?"

"Yes, I think so; you see the chances of getting in on a new strike seem good—and—well, our great show has melted right away. It was a fine effort, but it failed. I don't mind running chances—in fact, I'm used to it; and, after all, that's all Poo-Bah and his chums know, is grafting. Let them keep their dirty money."

"It's a pity, a pity." John was thoughtful for a time. They were looking at him. "I don't know what I shall do if you and Frank desert me," sighed John.

"Get married and settle down," Frank said bluntly.

"You'll do all right," interposed Hugh, "you and George got record for two claims on the left limit of Bonanza working out your quartz proposition right against discovery. Well, this is Chechacho Hill, now reckoned amongst the richest ground in all the Klondike. You and George don't need to worry about Poo-Bah and Dominion Creek hillsides, nor your daily bread, no more. I thought I would not tell George the news till I caught you two together. Frank and I will try our chances again, and George can stay here and watch you 'live happy ever afterwards.'"

John frowned; his mind reverted to his "Mission." He believed that his duty was to the great portion of the Klondike's population whom Poo-Bah and the system of grafters had wronged. He refused even yet to recognize the game was up.

"Our people——" he began.

"Our people are mostly down the river striking for God's country, where there ain't no yellow-legs, and a shot-gun holds down your claim!"

"Frank is right," interposed Hugh, "our whole big following has gone."

John knew this to be only too true. Alas! alas! the fickleness of man.

"Just like the Siwash, Si-Ya Creeks, Hi-u Chickaman, we're all much alike, yes—yes, except some"—and Frank glanced at Alice, who then entered the room with refreshment for the visitors.

"Frank says that far-away creeks appear to hold much gold," John translated for the benefit of Alice.

"Well, you're all right with your gold on Chechacho Hill," said Hugh. "I might have known it was there if I had only thought."

"Why?" asked Bruce.

"Because of Carmack finding gold on top of twenty feet of muck. I might have known that the gold slid down the hill. It wasn't creek gold Bonanza was discovered on—no, sir, it was hillside. And that accounts for its being above the muck there and nowhere else. If a fellow could only think right before he knows!"

"We'll try and know right down in God's country, Boss. Hugh and I must be going now. George won't be going with us; he has his claim in this yellow-leg country."

In the way of the goldfields, they proceeded at once to say good-bye. Corte and Spencer took their shares of the gold Frank had brought from Dominion Creek, and went, carrying all manner of wishes for good from those they were leaving behind.