Mos' of dem is work in dance-halls.

Dere's one fine gal I see, name' Marie Bourgette.

I tell you 'bout her by-an'-by." "Oh, Poleon, you're in love!" cried Necia.
"No, siree!" he denied.

"Dere's none of dem gal look half so purty lak' you." He would have said more, but spying the trader at the entrance of the store, he went to him, straightway launching into the details of their commercial enterprise, which, happily, had been most successful.
Before they could finish, the crowd from the boat began to drift in, some of them buying drinks at the bar and others making purchases of tobacco and so forth, but for the main part merely idling about curiously.
Among the merchandise of the Post there were for sale a scanty assortment of fire-arms, cheap shot-guns, and a Winchester or two, displayed in a rack behind the counter in a manner to attract the eye of such native hunters as might need them, and with the rest hung a pair of Colt's revolvers.

One of the new arrivals, who had separated from the others at the front, now called to Gale: "Are those Colts for sale?
Mine was stolen the other day." Evidently he was accustomed to Yukon prices, for he showed no surprise at the figure the trader named, but took the guns and tested each of them, whereupon the old man knew that here was no "Cheechako," as tenderfeet are known in the North, although the man's garb had deceived him at first glance.
The stranger balanced the weapons, one in either hand, then he did the "double roll" neatly, following which he executed a move that Gale had not witnessed for many years.