"Nothing at all!" cried a score of voices, and then volley after volley rang forth, until it seemed as though every man there must have carried a loaded gun and emptied it of all six shots in honor of the occasion. Men came running from all directions, and before the shooting ceased the entire population of the camp, some three hundred in number, were eagerly crowding about the new-comers, plying them with questions, and struggling for the honor of shaking hands with the first arrivals of the year. "Are we really the first to come up?" asked Phil. "To be sure you are. Not only that, but the first ones to reach the diggings from any direction since navigation closed. But how did you come? Not by the river, I know, for when I heard your shooting 'twas away up the creek." "We came by the Tananah and across the Divide," answered Phil. "There is another party coming by way of the river, though." "Hark to that, boys! One train just arrived and another coming! I tell you, old Forty Mile is right in it. Daily express from all points; through tickets to Europe, Arup, and Arrap; morning papers and opera-houses, circus and theaytres. Looks like the boom had struck us at last. But say, stranger, what _is_ the news from below?" "New steamer on her way up the river, with saw-mill, mining machinery, and best stock of goods ever seen in Alaska," replied Phil, quick to seize the opportunity, and anxious to make his business known while he still had the field to himself. "We have come from her, and are on our way to San Francisco to send up a new stock for next season. So we have only stopped to take your orders and find out what will be the most acceptable." "Hurrah!" yelled the crowd, wild with excitement. "Send us a brass band," shouted one. "In swaller-tails and white kids," added another. "What's the matter with moving the Palace Hotel up here?" suggested a third. "Come, fellows, let up," cried the man who had been the first to welcome the new arrivals, and whose name was Riley. "We mustn't keep these gentlemen standing out here in the cold any longer. I reckon they're hungry, too, and wondering why we don't invite 'em to grub. So, men, just come into my shebang and make yourselves at home. There isn't much to it, but such as it is it's yours, so long as you'll honor yours truly." "No, come with me," cried another voice. "I've got beans, Boston baked, fresh from the can." "I've got molasses and soft-tack," and "I've just made a dish of scouse." "Come with us," shouted others. "No, you don't!" roared Mr. Riley. "They're my meat, and they are going to bunk in with me." [TO BE CONTINUED.] [Illustration] TYPICAL AMERICAN SCHOOLS. ANDOVER. BY WILLIAM PHILLIPS GRAVES.