In them days, when you-all come around makin' poor mouths..." He heaved a sigh of resignation.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to give you-all a grub-stake or soup, or something or other." Daylight had vision.

His scope had been rigidly limited, yet whatever he saw, he saw big.

His mind was orderly, his imagination practical, and he never dreamed idly.

When he superimposed a feverish metropolis on a waste of timbered, snow-covered flat, he predicated first the gold-strike that made the city possible, and next he had an eye for steamboat landings, sawmill and warehouse locations, and all the needs of a far-northern mining city.