Well, we're as good as off now," remarked Maurice, with a long breath.
"Our train goes at eight. We've got two hours, and now I guess I'll go
home and have supper with my folks and say good-bye. We'll all meet at
the depot."

Neither Fred nor Macgregor had any relatives in the city and no
necessary farewells to make. They had supper together at a downtown
restaurant, and afterwards met Maurice at the Union Depot, where they
took the north-bound express.

Next morning they awoke from uneasy slumbers to find the train rushing
through a desolate landscape of snowy spruces. Through the frosted
double glass of the windows the morning looked clear and cold, but they
were relieved to see that there was only a little snow on the ground,
and glimpses of rivers and lakes showed clear, shining ice. Evidently
the road was still open.

It was half-past ten that forenoon when they reached Waverley, and they
found that it was indeed cold. The thermometer stood at five above
zero; the snow was dry as powder underfoot, and the little backwoods
village looked frozen up. But it was sunny, and the biting air was
full of the freshness of the woods, and the spirits of all the boys
rose jubilantly.

The laden toboggan had come up on the same train with them, and they
saw it taken out of the express car. Leaving it at the station, they
went to the village hotel, where they ate an early dinner, and changed
from their civilized clothes to the caps, sweaters, and Hudson Bay
"duffel" trousers that they had brought in their suit-cases.

They had been the only passengers to leave the train, and their arrival
produced quite a stir in Waverley. It was not the season for camping
parties, nor for hunting, and no one went into the woods for pleasure
in the winter. The toboggan with its steel runners drew a curious
group at the station.

"Goin' in after moose?" inquired an old woodsman while they were at
dinner.

"No," replied Peter.

"Goin' up to the pulpwood camps, mebbe?"

"No."

"What might ye be goin' into the woods fer?" he persisted, after some
moments.

"We might be going in after gold," answered Maurice gravely.

He did not mean it to be taken seriously, but he forgot that gold is
mined in several parts of northern Ontario. Before many hours the word
spread that a big winter gold strike had been made up north, and a
party from the city was already going to the spot, so that for several
weeks the village was in a state