“It was even possible our captain might have reached shore and betrayed us. In that case you might be the forerunners of an army of invaders. We couldn’t take the chances, sir. We’ve been disappointed too many times. But it appears that you were merely the victims of the elements, and like ourselves were driven to this shore in a gale. So the only danger to be feared from you is your getting away before we’re ready to go with you. That was why we hesitated between murdering you and using your services to enable us to accomplish our task sooner than we otherwise could. We are not cut-throats, believe me, nor do we care to be responsible for the death of so many decent men. But the lust for gold has made my fellows desperate, and with immense fortunes within their grasp they will stick at nothing to protect themselves and their treasure.” “That’s only natural,” growled Uncle Naboth. “I’m glad to find you so reasonable,” said the Major. “Having discovered this field ourselves, we do not intend to share the gold with anyone; but we will make you a reasonable proposition. We will pay each one of you two dollars a day, in grains of gold, for your labor, and you must buckle to and help us to get out the gold. We will also pay you, in gold, for whatever provisions you have on your ship, or other supplies we may need. And when we have enough to satisfy ourselves, and are ready to sail back to civilization, we will pay you a reasonable price for passage in your ship. That seems to me to be fair and square. What do you say?” “Why,” answered Uncle Naboth, with a gasp, “that’s all we could look for if we got to Alaska. We’re traders, sir, an’ expect to make our money in trade. The only thing we object to is workin’ like dogs to wash gold for somebody else.” “You’ll have to put up with that objection,” returned the man, dryly. “Your labor will shorten our stay here a full year, and it’s the penalty you must suffer for being in our power.” My uncle turned to his crew. “What do you say, boys?” he asked. Some grumbled, and all looked grave; but a glance at the lowering faces of the miners assured them that discretion was the better part of valor, so they yielded a reluctant consent to the arrangement. “There’s one p’int, howsomever, as I should like to argufy,” said Uncle Naboth. “This here lad’s too small an’ delicate to work at the washin’, an’ somebody’s got to give out the provisions an’ collect the pay for ’em. Let him out o’ the deal, sir, an’ make him clerk o’ the supplies.”