"Yes, we'll have rather an open field," answered Foster Portney. And then followed a long discussion about the new gold fields and what might be expected when Dyea was reached and the terrible climb over the mountains began. The discussion lasted until ten o'clock, and the boys listened with interest and picked up many stray bits of information. Both concluded that the overland trip to the mines would prove every bit as rough and dangerous as they had pictured it. The distance from San Francisco to Juneau, Alaska, is, in round figures, one thousand miles. The _Golden Hope_ was not as large as a regular ocean liner, yet she was a fast boat, and it was expected that she would cover the distance inside of four days. Much, of course, would depend upon the weather encountered, for she was heavily loaded with both passengers and freight. The freight had given even the owners concern, for much of it was piled high on the outer decks. On the second day out, and some time after Cape Blanco had been sighted through the glass, the sky to the westward began to darken, and the sailors announced an approaching storm. Soon the sun went under a heavy bank of clouds and a stiff breeze sprung up which threw the long, heavy swells of the ocean into millions of whitecaps, dancing and skipping on every side as far as eye could reach. "We are in for it now," was the announcement which went the rounds. Presently it began to rain, and all endeavored to seek the shelter of the cabin, which speedily became crowded to suffocation. The boys, their uncle, and Captain Zoss were in the forward part of the boat, and they saw the course changed, so that the _Golden Hope_ stood out straight to meet the blow. "We are going to have no fun of this," said Foster Portney, with a grave shake of his head. "If I know anything about matters, that storm will be an extra heavy one." And the events of the next hour proved that he was right. CHAPTER IX. THE FATE OF A STOWAWAY. "My gracious! We're going to the bottom sure!" It was Randy who made the observation. The storm had struck the steamer in all its fury, and the pitching of the vessel made it almost impossible for a person to keep his feet. Randy clutched a handrail fastened near by, and Earl did the same; while Mr. Portney and Captain Zoss braced up against a ceiling post. The only thing that kept many from falling was the fact that there was no vacant floor space. "They were in it like sardines in a tin," as Randy expressed it. "Some of the outside freight is bound to go," remarked Foster Portney, a minute later. "Ah, as I thought--the captain has ordered it cut away. There goes some poor fellows' outfits! Too bad!" "I hope our stuff isn't among it!" cried Earl. "But they'll be responsible, won't they?" "Yes, they'll be responsible, Earl. But we don't want their money--we want our goods, for it may be difficult, if not impossible, to duplicate the things at Juneau. But I imagine our goods are in the hold."