Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1937-08-27
CHAPTER 5

Jeanne" he said quietly, care you
asleep?"
The voice fought dull fatigue.
"No, Mr.. Hammond"
"My names Jack"
"Oh," came with an air of sur
prise.
"Listen," he cut in. give just
thought of something funny. You're
none of my business"
"I@
"What I mean,'" he added hastily,
ais that Pm not trying to butt in or
ask questions. You understand that,
don't yOu?"
"Yes-I've known that"
"Just the same" the man went on,
"I've thought of something funny.
Suppose, for instance, l lent you a
little. money-you know, to build a
shack with. And then" he added,
shilling her acknowledgements I
did what I could to get things going
for you. I've just been thinking that
It really would be a whale of a joke
on somebody, if you'd take this bunch
of supplies you've been dragging
through for me, and really start that
grocery store
Five minutes later, Jack Hammond
turned away, with hand at his
throat.
81 didn't think she'd cry about ii"
he mumbled, once more back at the
fire. He sat there long time. Then
ut hast he stretched, went over to the
dogs, disturbed them with a moccas-
ined foot, and rolled in with them. The
sun shone the next morning. They
were back at camp in an hour. The
endless journey began anew.
Six days later, a struggling mass
of humans slipped and slid across the
hummocked ice of the Liiken river.
Hammond came along, passed Jeanne
Towers. asked CHEEKY question, and
went onward.
His thick clothing smeared by frost
and soil, Jack Hammond worked with
pick and shovel at the bottom of
deep pit. He filled moosehide bucket
with boulders and stony soil and sig
nailed to Mckenzie Joe to raise and
dump it. Joe obeyed, turning the
rough handle of an equally crude
WIndSeSs. He was a beaverlike man
of huge shoulders and stocky frame;
with a great effort he carried the
bucket away and emptied it. Return
ing he called down:
"Hey, Jack. Ride the bucket up"
"Knocking of work early, aren't
wg%" Hammond queried, when he
poked. &is head out of the crude
shaft:
"Look," answered McKensie Joe.
With movements of his eyes he in
dicated the far-away camp.
1t was a new trek from Fourcross.
Men were shouting, and hurrying a
bout, mushing their dogs to the first
open space unoccupied by the tents of
other gold seekers, and tearing at
their Eobogaan loads as though they
had only a matter of minutes iN which
to begin life in a new land. At this
distance, they looked like so many
black, two-legged ants, outlined a.
gainst the white of the snow-covereo
Sapphire lake. Mckenzie Joe TOOK
off his thick cap and rubbed heavy
fingers through matted, gray hair.
"There amt nothin' crazier'n
bunch of pushed placer miners" ne
xaid at last. Lets clean out that phi
and knock off work for the day."
Sure" said Hammond. "Then 60
down to town and find out how tt
make a million"
He glanced toward the bed OF tn
frozen Big Moose. Great fires burne'
there. dozens of them, where men, ant
the few women who had made tn
CALLING journey, worked at dream o
fortune. 1t was tough going now. Tn
gravel must be thawed out. Waite
for panning must come by dog tear
from the community water hole, Gu
through the four-foot thickness of lax
ice.
swell, let 'em work down creek a
they want" said Joe. "The real gold
somewhere else. The Big Moose didn
always ride along over against thos
mountains. It travelled over hel
xomewhere-and here's where We
find the bonanza"
big as hens eggs!" Harmon
laughed.
make it a goose; it's just as easy
They returned to work, finally,