Charlie Anderson’s claim was No. 29 Eldorado and it cost him six hundred dollars. He had saved this money from his wages as a pick-and-shovel miner at Forty Mile, and bought the mine one night when he was too drunk to know what he was doing. When he awoke the next day he wept bitter tears and asked the men who thought they had swindled him to take back the claim and give him his money. They refused, and so Anderson walked eighty miles to the Klondike and started work. He found only a hole in the ground, but he thawed and dug eighteen feet deeper and came upon a fortune. When he made the first strike the men who had sold him the claim were near by and asked with a sneer what he had found. He replied: “Ay tank Ay got some gold here,” and showed them his pan. There were fourteen hundred dollars’ worth of gold nuggets in it, and the claim eventually yielded between one and two million dollars. But, like other Klondikers, Anderson ran through his money as fast as it came. He was cheated by every one, and ended as a day labourer somewhere in the States. In coming down the Yukon to Dawson the captain of the steamer told me many stories about Charlie Anderson, whom he had known well. Said he: “Anderson had been doing railroad work in the States, but was discharged, and that drove him to Alaska. When he struck it rich he took out more than two hundred thousand dollars the first year, and during the next four years his claim yielded him almost two million dollars.” “What did he do with the money?” I asked. “He spent it as fast as he got it. He kept a gang of gamblers and dance hall girls about him and gave away thousands. When he was at the height of his fortune and had an income of a half million a year, he fell in love and was married. He took his wife to San Francisco, where he bought her a house and gave her all the money she could spend besides. When he was about at the end of his fortune he told me she had cost him a quarter of a million. He then pulled out of his pocket a garter with a clasp set with a diamond as big as the end of your thumb, and said: “‘And this is all I have to show for it. I am almost broke now, but I will go back and find some more.’ “Anderson’s claim was then played out,” the captain continued. “He tried to find others, but failed. In his first trips with me he travelled in state, buying all the liquor and cigars that the ship had and standing treat to the passengers. On his last trip he booked in the steerage. He was dead broke. Shortly after we started I saw him, dressed in rough clothes, sitting at the prow of the boat. I went up to him and said: “‘Well, Charlie, it is different with you from what it used to be.’ “He looked up and his eyes filled with tears. “‘Yes,’ said he,’ I am travelling steerage, for I have not enough money to pay first class.’ “I was so sorry for him that I put him in one of the first cabins and took him home without charge.”