Page:The Pacific Monthly vol. 14.djvu/87



The tiian appeared to answer with difficulty or else to deliberate on the nature of his communications; but which I could not determine.

"WTiat is your name? From where do you come?"

"John — Bixbee." A long pause. "From Dawson."

He was too much exhausted for further conversation, and we assisted him to a bunk near mine. Being the idlest person on board, for several days I acted in the capacity of nurse to the man. As his strength returned he grew less taciturn, and I found him an intelligent, agreeable gentleman.

He displayed a peculiar reticence concerning himself. Never once did he refer to the wreck. In some inexplicable manner we inferred that Bixbee must have been aboard a Dawson steamer, although we saw no further signs of her. I was greatly surprised when Bixbee approached me toward the end of the voyage.

"Scott," he began rather diffidently, "have you any definite business plans when you reach JSTome?"

"Xone in particular. I am going to prospect. I have some money and a good outfit, and I thought I could 'grub-stake' some man to go out with me."

"Will you take me?" he asked eagerly. "Of course I lost all — in the wreck. I made considerable money mining near Dawson, but I never did the actual work; Still T am strong and willing and would like you to give me a trial."

"Done," I answered, and we sealed the agreement with a hearty hand-clasp.

For two years John Bixbee and I labored early and late. Slowly our little pile grew. By the time we Avorked out our last claim w^e felt an insistent longing for civilization, and concluded we had enough money to start us in business. We had grown to depend on each other, Bixbee and I, and our intercourse was unruffled. We had no thought of separation.

"Dick," observed Bixbee on the southbound steamer, "we have discussed various business enterprises without making a choice. Why not try life insurance?"

"T don't know a thing about it."

"I feel as if I were familiar with the subject, although I must possess my knowledge intuitively. I have a friend in the business in Seattle, Harrison Lud- low. We might interview him."

On reaching Seattle we hunted up the insurance company for which Bixbee's friend worked as a special agent. We found the manager, who gazed at Bixbee in wide-eyed amazement as he answered the inquiry for Ludlow.

"Harrison Ludlow? You gave me an awful start. Bless me, man, I took you for his ghost."

"T beg your pardon. Not — "

"Dead these two years. Went down on the Eobert Boyd."

Bixbee was visibly overcome.

"A dreadful calamity," continued the manager. "I saw Ludlow board the steamer on that fateful trip."'

"I remember," I interrupted. "He was telling you he was going to Victoria to meet a friend from Alaska to whom he expected to sell an annuity."

"Probably mvself," said Bixliee.

"And now that you have called my attention to it, Mr. Wells," I went on, "I notice the resemblance between Bixbee and Lutllow. I always fancied I had seen Bixbee before."

"How strange," remarked Bixbee. "Xo one else ever spoke of our being alike, and we were college chums."

"There is a difference," ol)served Wells, studying Bixbee critically. "You are much older; yet that might be due to your white hair. Y'our features are much the same. But your manner is entirely different."

We talked business for awhile, and ended by each writing his name on an

agent's contract. A desk was assigned to each of us. By a strange chance the

one formerly used by Ludlow was given to Bixbee. He was seated at it Mhen

several of the old agents entered the room. As one man they stopped and stared.

We were at the hotel but a few davs when Bixbee informed me he had found