e done.

"You might as well stay at home," he continued. "It may be Norcross will
come back and reconsider matters."

"Not he!" exclaimed Randy; nevertheless, he promised to remain and look
over some clothing which needed mending, for these sturdy lads were in
the habit of doing everything for themselves, even to sewing up rents
and darning socks. Such are the necessities of real life in the
backwoods.

It was a bright sunny morning, well calculated to cheer any one's
spirits, yet Randy felt far from light-hearted when left alone. He could
not help but wonder what would happen next.

"We've got just twenty-eight dollars and a half in cash left," he mused,
as he set to work to replace some buttons on one of Earl's working
shirts. "And we owe about six dollars at the general store, three
dollars and a quarter for those new axes and the coffee mill, and twenty
to Norcross. Heigh-ho! but it's hard lines to be poor, with one's nose
continually to the grindstone. I wonder if we shouldn't have done better
if we had struck out, as Uncle Foster did six years ago? He has seen a
lot of the world and made money besides."

Earl had expected to be gone the best part of the forenoon, and Randy
was surprised, at half-past nine, to see his elder brother returning
from the village. Earl was walking along the road at the top of his
speed, and as he drew closer, he held up a letter.

"It's a letter from Uncle Foster!" he cried, as soon as he was within
speaking distance. "It's got such wonderful news in it that I thought I
ought to come home with it at once."

"Wonderful news?" repeated Randy. "What does he say?"

"He says he is going back to Alaska,--to some new gold field that has
just been discovered there,--and he wants to know if we will go with
him."

CHAPTER II.

THE BOYS REACH A DECISION.

"Uncle Foster is going back to Alaska?" said Randy, slowly.

"Yes; he is going to start almost immediately, too," added his elder
brother. "He says the new gold diggings are something immense, and he
wants to stake a claim at the earliest possible date."

Randy drew a long breath. To Alaska! What a tremendous trip that would
be--five thousand miles at least! And going to such an almost unknown
region would be very much like starting for the north pole.

He remembered well that his Uncle Foster had paid a visit to Alaska
three years previous, sailing from San Francisco to St. Michael's Island
and then taking a Yukon River