Publisher's Synopsis
"All ready, Miss Welse, though I'm sorry we can't spare one of the steamer's boats."Frona Welse arose with alacrity and came to the first officer's side."We're so busy," he explained, "and gold-rushers are such perishable freight, atleast-""I understand," she interrupted, "and I, too, am behaving as though I wereperishable. And I am sorry for the trouble I am giving you, but-but-" She turnedquickly and pointed to the shore. "Do you see that big log-house? Between theclump of pines and the river? I was born there.""Guess I'd be in a hurry myself," he muttered, sympathetically, as he piloted heralong the crowded deck.Everybody was in everybody else's way; nor was there one who failed to proclaim itat the top of his lungs. A thousand gold-seekers were clamoring for the immediatelanding of their outfits. Each hatchway gaped wide open, and from the lower depthsthe shrieking donkey-engines were hurrying the misassorted outfits skyward. Oneither side of the steamer, rows of scows received the flying cargo, and on each ofthese scows a sweating mob of men charged the descending slings and heavedbales and boxes about in frantic search. Men waved shipping receipts and shoutedover the steamer-rails to them. Sometimes two and three identified the samearticle, and war arose. The "two-circle" and the "circle-and-dot" brands causedendless jangling, while every whipsaw discovered a dozen claimants."The purser insists that he is going mad," the first officer said, as he helped FronaWelse down the gangway to the landing stage, "and the freight clerks have turnedthe cargo over to the passengers and quit work. But we're not so unlucky as theStar of Bethlehem," he reassured her, pointing to a steamship at anchor a quarter ofa mile away. "Half of her passengers have pack-horses for Skaguay and White Pass, and the other half are bound over the Chilcoot. So they've mutinied andeverything's at a standstill
