"All ready Miss Welse though I'm sorry we can't spare one of the steamer's boats." Frona Welse arose with alacrity and came to the first officer's side. "We're so busy" he explained "and gold-rushers are such perishable freight at least--" "I understand" she interrupted "and I too am behaving as though I were perishable. And I am sorry for the trouble I am giving you but--but--" She turned quickly and pointed to the shore. "Do you see that big log-house? Between the clump of
pines and the river? I was born there."