Quite an exodus took place in Dawson in the spring.

Men, because they had made stakes, and other men, because they had made none, bought up the available dogs and rushed out for Dyea over the last ice.
Incidentally, it was discovered that Dave Harney possessed most of these dogs.
"Going out ?" Jacob Welse asked him on a day when the meridian sun for the first time felt faintly warm to the naked skin.
"Well, I calkilate not.

I'm clearin' three dollars a pair on the moccasins I cornered, to say nothing but saw wood on the boots.

Say, Welse, not that my nose is out of joint, but you jest cinched me everlastin' on sugar, didn't you ?" Jacob Welse smiled.
"And by the Jimcracky I'm squared! Got any rubber boots ?" "No; went out of stock early in the winter." Dave snickered slowly.
"And I'm the pertickler party that hocus-pocused 'em." "Not you.

I gave special orders to the clerks.