50 THE UPPER YUKON 



I insisted upon a start without any further 

 delay. 



Then a stout woman came up to me and 

 told the story of her experience in White 

 Horse. She was a cook — had been six weeks 

 in the town. She was "Oh, so lonely," and 

 wanted to go back home to St. Paul, Minn. 

 She was willing to go in "any old way." 

 Wouldn't I take her with me when I came 

 back? If I did she would never forget me as 

 long as she lived. Couldn't I pack her in my 

 big trunk — bore holes in it, so that she w^ould 

 get air — then when the trunk was put on the 

 steamer and the steamer had started she would 

 get out on the deck and nobody would know 

 that she hadn't paid her fare? The woman 

 had all she could do to keep from crying right 

 there in the open street. Of course, I only 

 laughed at her — that being the best tonic to 

 give her. 



Before leaving my home city, I had ordered 

 a pair of riding breeches to be made of the best 

 and heaviest moleskin, and I had pictured to 

 myself much ease and comfort as well as 

 warmth in wearing them. I had very hard 

 work to get them on. The tailor's plans had 

 evidently "gone aglee," for they were so tight 

 that the buttons from the knees down could 



