Shortly after noon of the day following Chicago was reached. Here they had a three hours' stop and spent the time in a ride on State Street, and a trip to the roof of the great Masonic Temple, where a grand bird's-eye view of the entire city was to be seen, spread out far below them. And so the long trip westward continued. To tell of all the places stopped at would be impossible. All day long for nearly a week they sat at their car window taking in the sights of cities, towns, prairies, and mountains. There were wonderful bridges to cross and perilous turns to make, at which both held their breath, expecting each moment to be dashed to pieces. In the mountains a severe storm was encountered, and the rolling of the thunder was awe-inspiring, so long was it kept up. But all journeys, long and short, must come to an end, and one fine morning the boys found themselves safe and sound in San Francisco, and on their way to the Palace Hotel. The trip overland had brightened them a good bit, and they no longer looked as green as when they had started. They had just stepped from a Market Street car in front of the hotel when they saw a youth coming down the hotel steps who looked strangely familiar, in spite of the somewhat ragged clothing he wore. "Randy, who is that fellow?" questioned Earl, quickly, as he caught his brother by the elbow. "Why, if it isn't Fred Dobson!" burst from Randy's lips. "How in the world did he get away out here? Fred Dobson! Fred Dobson! Stop, we want to talk to you!" he called out, as the youth in question was on the point of hurrying off. CHAPTER VI. PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE. "Randy Portney!" came from the lips of the boy addressed, as he turned to stare at the person who had called out his name. "And Earl, too! Where--where did you come from?" "From Basco, of course," returned Randy. "How did you get away out here?" "I--I came out on a train from Chicago," stammered Fred Dobson, but he did not add that the train had been a freight, and that the stolen ride had been both uncomfortable and full of peril. "We met your father in Boston," put in Earl. "He said if we should ever run across you to tell you to come home." "I'm not going back," was the reply of the squire's son. "I came out here to make my fortune." "I'm afraid you'll find it rather hard work," ventured Randy, and he glanced at Fred's shabby suit. Around Basco the youth had dressed better than any one else. "I've been playing in hard luck lately," was the slangy reply. "But say, what are you two fellows doing out here?" "We came on to join our uncle," said Randy. "He is going to take us to Alaska with him." "Alaska! To those new gold fields a fellow reads about in the daily papers?" "Yes." "I'd like to go there myself," said the runaway, readily. "It costs a good deal of money to go, Fred," remarked Earl. He rather liked the squire's son, in spite of his wild ways. "A fellow must take along a year's provisions."