Where the prophecy of Old Man Gordon had met only with laughter and derision, the same words from the lips of Burr MacShane were accorded nothing but respect by the men of the high North. For these men knew MacShane. His spoken word carried weight. And when he said that they would see from two to five hundred dollars taken from a pan, not a man who heard the words but believed implicitly that he would see from two to five hundred dollars taken from a pan. “God,” breathed Bettles, and there was a nervous quaver in his voice, “then we’re a bunch of millionaires, right here!” MacShane nodded: “There’s men in this crowd that’ll clean up more than a million--maybe double, and treble a million. But you want to remember that the gravel is spotted. It ain’t all rich. The first hole I put down didn’t show anything better than wages at twelve foot. A thousand foot from there I panned out one hundred an’ forty dollars at five foot. An’ I took out a half an’ ounce at the grass roots.” Camillo Bill stared at Gordon: “You old son-of-a-gun!” he grinned, “Was you guessin’? Or, how did you know?” “It was a hunch,” replied the old man, “I could feel it. As the Gude Book says, it was a vision.” Camillo turned to MacShane: “But about the boiler?” he asked, “There ain’t nothin’ in that boiler business, is there?” “I don’t know anything about boilers,” admitted MacShane, “I do know that winter minin’ is so damned new that we’d be fools to think we’ve learnt all there is to know about it. You can bet that if steam thawin’ will work, an’ will save time an’ labor, it’s bound to come. Trouble with us is we’re plumb ignorant. We’ve got a thing here that’s so big we don’t know what to do with it. We can’t even realize the bigness of it yet, let alone how to handle it. Why, I ain’t even begun to think, an’ I can see a hundred ways to clean up big without ever puttin’ a pick in the gravel.” “What do you mean?” they cried, crowding close. MacShane laughed and waved them back: “Look a here you all malamutes an’ sourdoughs! What do you think this is, a business meetin’? This here is Christmas eve, an’ we’re here to celebrate it. I’m goin’ to have another drink, an’ then I’m goin’ to dance! Horse Face ain’t woke up yet. Plenty time to talk business after a while. Let’s get Horse Face where he belongs, an’ whoop her up!” Someone called for the drinks, and Old Man Gordon drew on his mittens: “I’m goin’ home,” he announced. “Ye young devils can go ahead wi’ ye’re hullabaloo. Tomorrow is Christmas, an’ I’m goin’ to be sober. The wife an’ kid, ye know.” “Wife an’ kid!” exclaimed MacShane, “You got a wife an’ kid here in this camp? A kid, did you say? A real honest to God little kid?” “You bet he has!” cried a chorus of voices, “Purtiest little thing you ever seen,” announced Moosehide, “’Bout so high, ain’t she, Camillo?” He held his hand about four feet from the floor.