"My father was allers called Honest Ben Edwards out here on the Third
Beach Line, an' Mother says she'd ruther have that mem'ry o' him than
all the fortunes that's been made in Alaska by lyin' an' steal-in' an'
jumpin' other people's claims."

"Right again, Ben. Nothing can take that from her, and a name like that
is the best thing a man can leave his son."

"This mornin' she gave me some money fer a new pair o' mittens fer her,
an' shoes fer me; an' the cook asked me t' buy a kitchen knife an' a few
pans fer him. I walked inter town t' git 'em, an' Baldy come with me,
though she said I was foolish t' be bothered with him. But I told her it
was awful lonesome on the trail, an' she said I could take him this
time." He paused for breath, visibly embarrassed.

"And you forgot all about your errands," hazarded the Woman.

"No, ma'am, I didn't exac'ly forgit, but when I was passin' the Court
House an' I seen a big crowd inside, I went in, too, ter listen a
minute.

"That lawyer Fink, that got up the Kennel Club, an' has the bully dog
team, an' Daly, the feller with the smile that makes you feel like
there's sunshine in the room, was a-talkin' agin each other; an' their
fightin' was so excitin' an' so smooth an' perlite too, that everybody
was a-settin' on the edges o' their chairs a-waitin' fer what was
a-comin' next."

"So you were interested in what the lawyers had to say?"