The Tomahawk., 1918-01-24
CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER I.
-1-
Going "In."
The midnight sun had set, but In
crotch between two snow peaks 1t had
kindled q vast caldron from which rose
q mist Of jewels, garnet and turquoise,
topaz and amethyst and opal, all
swimming in sea Of molten gold. The
glow of it still chung to the face OF the
broad Yukon, as flush does to the
soft, wrinkled cheek of a girl just
reused from deep sleep.
Except for faint murkiness in the
air 1t was still day. There was light
enough for the four men playing pi'
nochle on the upper deck, though the
women Of their party, gossiping in
chairs grouped near at hand. had at
last put aside their embroidery. The
girl who sat by herself at little dis
lance held q magazine still open In
her lap.
Gordon Elliot had taken the boat at
Pierre's Portage, fifty miles farther
down the river. He had come direct
from the creeks, and his impressions
Of the motley pioneer life at the gold
diggfngs were SO vivid that he had
found an isolated corner of the deck
where he could scribble them in note
book while still fresh.
But he had not been too busy to see
that the girl in the wicker chair was
as much Of an outsider as he was.
Plainly this was her first trip in. Cor
don was stranger in the Yukon coun-
try, one not likely to be overwelcome
when it became known what his mis-.
sion was.
From where he was leaning against
the deckhouse Elliot could see only a
fine, chiseled profile shading into a
mass of crisp, black hair, but some
quality in the detachment Of her per-
sonality stimulated gently his magma
ton. He wondered who she could be.
A short, thickset man who had ridden
down on the stage with Elliot to
Pierre's Portage drifted along the deck
toward him. he wore the careless
garb of a mining man in a country
which looks first to comfort.
Bound for Kusiak?" he asked, by
way of opening conversation.
EYES," answered Gordon.
The miner nodded toward the group
under the awning. "That bunch lives
at Kusiak. They've got on at different
places the last two or three days
except Selfridge and his wife; they've
been out. Guess you can tell that from
hearing her talk-the little woman In
red with the snappy black eyes. She's
spillin' over with talk about the styles
in New York and the cabarets and the
new shows. That pot-bellied little fel-
low in the checked suit is Selfridge.
He is Colby MacdOnald's man Friday"
Elliot took in with a quickened in
terest the group bound for Kusiak. He
had noticed that they monopolized as
q matter of course the best places on
the deck and in the dining room. They
we're civil enough to outsiders, but
their manner had the unconscious self
jshness that often regulates social &C.
I.vities. It excluded from their gay
ETY. everybody that did not belong to
the proper set.
''That sort of thing gets my goat" the
miner went on sourly. 'Those women
over there have elected themselves
Society with capital s. They put on
all the airs the Four Hundred do in
New York. And who are they any
how?-wives to q bunch of grating
politicians mostly"
THAT'S the way Of the world, isn't
It? Our civilization is built on the
group system" suggested Elliot.
"Maybe so," grumbled the miner.
"But I hate to see Alaska come to it.
Ne, ! saw this country first in ninety
seve,l-packed an outfit in over the
pass. Every man stood on his own
hind legs then. He got there if he
was strong-mebbe; he begged down
on the trail good and plenty if he was
weak. We didn't have any of the ar
tifieial stuff then. A man had to have
the CUTS to stand the gaff."
Il suppose it was a wild country,
Mr.. Strong"
The little miners eyes cleaned.
'sBest country in the world. We didn't
stand for anything that wasn't on the
level. It was a poor mans country
wages fifteen dollars a day and plenty
of work. Everybody had a chance.
Anybody could stake claim and
gamble on his luck. Now the big cor
porations have slipped in and grabbed
the best. 1t amt prospector's prcpo-
siticn any more. Instead of faro banks
we've got savings banks. The wide
open dance hall has quit business in
favor of moving pictures. And, as I
said before, we've got Society,"
AN frontier countries have to come
to It"
"Hmp' In the days I'm telling you
about that crowd there couldn't a
hustled meat to al their bellies three
meals. Parasites, that's what they
are. They're living OF that bunch Of