of traffic flowed, he began to feel a fretful eagerness to join in
it, to be up and going. 'Way yonder through those hills towered
the Chilkoot, and beyond that was the mighty river rushing toward
Dawson City, toward Life and Adventure, for that was what the
gold-fields signified to Phillips. Yes, Life! Adventure! He had
set out to seek them, to taste the flavor of the world, and there
it lay--his world, at least--just out of reach. A fierce
impatience, a hot resentment at that senseless restriction which
chained him in his tracks, ran through the boy. What right had any
one to stop him here at the very door, when just inside great
things were happening? Past that white-and-purple barrier which he
could see against the sky a new land lay, a radiant land of
promise, of mystery, and of fascination; Pierce vowed that he
would not, could not, wait. Fortunes would reward the first
arrivals; how, then, could he permit these other men to precede
him? The world was a good place--it would not let a person starve.

To the young and the foot-free Adventure lurks just over the hill;
Life opens from the crest of the very next divide. It matters not
that we never quite come up with either, that we never quite
attain the summit whence our promises are realized; the ever-
present expectation, the eager straining forward, is the breath of
youth. It was that breath which Phillips now felt in his nostrils.
It was pungent, salty.

He noted a group of people gathered about some center of
attraction whence issued a high-pitched intonation.

"Oh, look at the cute little pea! Klondike croquet, the packer's
pastime. Who'll risk a dollar to win a dollar? It's a healthy