“Didn’t sleep much.” “Where did you stay?” “In the station.” “Station!” Visions of his being “run in” assailed Mrs. Mar. “What station?” “The G. N. W.,” he said indistinctly. “The Great North Western Railroad Station,” Harry translated, with a reassuring look at the man. “You slept in the waiting-room?” “Some of us slept.” “Oh, dear, I hope you’ve got nice quarters at last?” said Hildegarde. “Wa-al, we got three rooms. But,” gloomier than ever, “we got to pay for ’em.” “What do you want of three?” demanded Mrs. Mar. “Three ain’t too many fur twenty-eight people.” “Twenty-eight! What are you doing with so many?” “Takin’ ’em to Nome.” Had the destination been the nether regions, he couldn’t have said it more as one who had left hope behind. “Bless my soul!” said Mrs. Mar, with a vision of the crowded train she’d come by, and the yet more crowded streets she’d hunted through for this same Blumpitty. “What are they all going to do there?” Blumpitty smiled a faint world-weary smile. “They kind o’ think they’d jest natchrully like to get a share o’ this gold that’s layin’ around up there.” “Oh, you’re a prospecting party.” “I guess we’ll do some lookin’ around.” “Twenty-eight of you!” exclaimed Hildegarde under her breath. “In three rooms!” The man nodded slowly, and his yellow-gray eyes seemed to have a vision of them. “Layin’ in rows,” he said sadly. “How dreadful!” breathed Hildegarde. In truth it had a morgue-like sound. “No—o,” he drawled. “No—o. Me and Mrs. Blumpitty, we do kind o’ miss it, not havin’ any winder. It’s only a closet though,” he said, as if not wishing to hurt the feelings of anything so small and unpretentious. “And the rest of our people are all right. Some parties have had to mix up, but I been able to get a room for the men, _and_”—he spoke with a weary pride—“_and_ one for the ladies.” “Ladies in your party!” exclaimed Harry. “Ya-as. Five, not countin’ Mrs. Blumpitty.” “What kind?” demanded Mrs. Mar, at the same moment as Harry asked, “What are _they_ going to do up there?” “Oh, they’re all right,” said Blumpitty, thinking he answered both. “Miss Leroy Schermerhorn’s goin’ to keep the books, and be secretary and business woman to the Company.” “What company?” says Mrs. Mar. “Blumpitty & Co.,” says Mr. Blumpitty. “Bless my soul!” says Mrs. Mar. “Remember Mr. Dorn,” whispered Hildegarde. “Do I understand your wife is going along—” Mrs. Mar began on a lower note. “Yes, oh, yes. I couldn’t do it without Mrs. Blumpitty.” “Where does she come in?” “Everywhere. Little bit o’ woman, so high. You’ve seen her.” He turned to Hildegarde. She nodded, smiling. “Don’t weigh more’n ninety-six pounds. Worth twenty or’nary size people.” “What does _she_ do up there?” “Everything. Keeps it all together.” He looked round with a melancholy wistfulness, as if he felt keenly the need of Mrs. Blumpitty to keep the present situation together. “And the other women?” said Mrs. Mar.