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Here's the chance of your life--the very thing
you want--a letter from your Uncle Matt. He's going up North, to the end
of civilization. Started at his old business of fur-trading again. He
says here"--and Mr. Cornwall referred to the letter, reading--"'But
there's something else taking me north besides otter and mink skins.
I'll tell it to you when I return, but just now the secret must be mine
alone. I only wish I had some decent chap to go with me; but in this
chasing-for-the-dollar age, no one seems to be able to leave their
miserable little shops for mere adventures into the wilds. I suppose
I'll have to hunt up some strapping boy as a partner, but the trouble is
to get one who is strong enough to work and starve alternately; one who
will sleep in the open, live on rabbits and beans, let his clothes dry
on him when they get wet, and who will keep his mouth shut and his ears
open. They aren't making young men like that now, I'm afraid.'"
"Yes, they are, father! Yes, they are!" cried Jack, springing to his
feet, his eyes gleaming with excitement.


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