“Bein’ partners,” he said, “we’ve got to consult together; but I take it you won’t feel bad, Sam, if I do most of the consultin’. I went down East to Batteraft to talk my plans with your father, but he slipped his cable an’ I’ve got to talk ’em to you. If you see I’m wrong, anywhere, jest chip in an’ stop me; but otherwise the less you say the more good we’ll get out’n this ’ere conference.” “Very well, sir.” “To start in with, we’ve got a ship, an’ a crew, an’ plenty o’ loose money. So what’ll we do with ’em? Our business is to trade, an’ to invest our money so we’ll make more with it. What’s the best way to do that?” He seemed to pause for an answer, so I said: “I don’t know sir.” “Nobody _knows_, of course. But we can guess, and then find out afterward if we’ve guessed right. All business is a gamble; and, if it wasn’t, most men would quit an’ go fishin’. After I got back from Japan I met a lot o’ fellows that had been to Alaska huntin’ gold. Seems like Alaska’s full of gold, an’ before long the whole country’ll be flockin’ there like sheep. All ’Frisco’s gettin’ excited about the thing, so they tell me, and if fortunes is goin’ to be made in Alaska, we may as well speak for one ourselves.” “But we are not miners, Uncle; and it’s bitter cold up there, they say.” “Well put. We’ll let the crowds mine the gold, and then hand it over to us.” “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” said I, weakly. “No call for you to try, Sam. I’m your guardeen, an’ so I’ll do the understandin’ for us both. Folks has to eat, my lad, an’ gold hunters is usually too excited to make proper provisions fer their stomachs. They’re goin’ to be mighty hungry out in Alaska, before long, an’ when a man’s hungry he’ll pay liberal fer a square meal. Let’s give it to him, Sam, an’ take the consequences—which is gold dust an’ nuggets.” “How will you do it, Uncle Nabe?” “Load the ‘Flipper’ with grub an’ carry it to Kipnac, or up the Yukon as far as Fort Weare, or wherever the gold fields open up. Then, when the miners get hungry, they’ll come to us and trade their gold for our groceries. We’re sure to make big profits, Sam.” “It looks like a reasonable proposition, sir,” I said. “But it seems to me rather dangerous. Suppose our ship gets frozen in the ice, and we can’t get away? And suppose about that time we’ve sold out our provisions. We can’t eat gold. And suppose——” “S’pose the moon falls out’n the sky,” interrupted Uncle Naboth, “wouldn’t it be dark at night, though!” “Well, sir?” “If the gold-diggers can live in the ice fields, we can live in a good warm ship. And we’ll keep enough grub for ourselves, you may be sure of that.” “When do we start?” I asked, feeling sure that no arguments would move my uncle to abandon the trip, once he had made up his mind to undertake it.