"A folding cot--new patent--good and strong. (It'll need to be strong to hold you up, won't it, dearie?) Now, please take your tea like a good girl, to brace up your courage. Or would you like a drop of sherry?" To all this Mrs. R. shook her head, but she did not speak, neither did she attempt to eat, for there was a big lump in her throat which prevented. The rest of our party enjoyed the supper. Some sat on boxes, others stood up, but we ate ham and eggs, bread, butter and cheese, tea and crackers, pickles, jellies and jams, as being the greatest "comforts" we could find in the camp, and we made them speedily disappear. At last the supper things were cleared away, and remaining food repacked in the baskets. The patent cot was unrolled, set up and made ready for Mrs. R., who was the only one favored with a bed. The others finally faced the proposition and prepared, as best they could, their chosen floor spaces for their beds. All slept in their clothing, for we had no bedding and the night was cold. The two men were banished to the outer air, where together they smoked and talked of affairs of the day, while we women unbuttoned our shoes, took out a few hairpins, cold-creamed our sunburned faces, and then, between jokes, stories and giggling, we settled ourselves, with much difficulty and hard snuggling, among our bags, raincoats, steamer rugs and wraps on the rough board floor for the night. Coming in later, the judge spread his borrowed fur robe upon the floor beside his wife's cot, covered himself with one-half of the same, chuckling as he did so. "I'm glad my bones are well cushioned with fat, and that I'm old and tough and like this sort of thing. I say, wife, isn't it jolly?" And the portly and sunny old judge dropped off to sleep to keep me awake most of the night by his snoring. If I slept little that night I did not waste my time. My brain was busy forming plans of action. It was not wise to have only one plan, for that one might fail. Better to have several, and some one of these would probably succeed. I felt a good deal of anxiety to know whether my father or brother had or would come to Nome. If either or both of them came I would have no further difficulty because I would work for and with them, but if they did not come what was I to do? I had little money. I would not go home. I would work. I was a good cook, though I had never done such work except for our own home folks. I knew that cooking was the kind of service most in demand in this country from women, for my travels in Alaska the year before had taught me that. I could teach music, and I could paint passably in water colors and oils; in fact, I had been a teacher of all three, but in Alaska these luxuries were not in demand. I could not expect to do anything in these directions, for men and women had come to Nome for gold, expected to get lots of it, and that quickly. They had no time for Beethoven's sonatas or water color drawings.