Woke up at Carcross. Up at seven-thirty and had breakfast on the boat. Our baggage was again sealed in the car for shipment to the boat. As the train did not leave for several hours, Art and I took another look at the town.

We were passing the hotel window and one of the crowd mentioned to us to come in. It was Greenabaum, from Chicago. A noisy person and apparently wealthy. He was drinking beer with a few others. We accepted his invitation and quaffed a quart. We intended to return his treat, but--the crowd had increased to fifteen and they were charging a dollar a bottle for the beer. We treated him in Prince Rupert where beer was fifteen cents a pint.

Art and I visited the fox farm and I bought a picture of an Alaskan husky by the name of Prince. It was to be my Alaskan souvenir. On returning to the hotel we found the crowd in a playful mood. Several had movie cameras and an overacted drunken orgy was being filmed. We joined in. I staggered out the door with Greenabaum's wife, in a realistic manner. She had not been very familiar before this and paid no attention to me later on. She was not snobby, just distant. A little beer makes friends of those who might otherwise have remained at a perpetual distance.

The train left at ten-forty-five. We were at Lake Bennett in time for lunch and a short stop-over. The lake is about twenty-six miles long, reaching to Tagish Lake. The town of Bennett had a population of ten thousand at the time of the rush to the Klondike. The people came up over the White Pass and camped on the shores of the frozen lake in the snow. The stampeders built rafts and crude boats and continued their journey along Lake Bennett to Carcross, thence into Tagish Lake, through Marsh Lake and down White Horse Rapids. Many died when their boats broke up in Lake Bennett and a great many of those who went down the Yukon perished before reaching the Klondike.

All that is left at Bennett now is the railroad station and an old church building overlooking the Lake. Several of the crowd climbed the church tower to take some pictures. When we were at the top we saw the train start. There was a mad scramble to get back to the station. Just as we arrived we found that they were only switching to a siding to let another train pass. What a relief--we might have missed the boat. The girls were rewarded for being back early. A red-coated Canadian mounty was strutting his stuff. Just like the movies.

We were soon on our way again. The trip was uncomfortable. Contrary to the preceding day the weather was warm. I travelled outside on the platform to get some fresh air and take pictures of the White Pass, trail of '98 and the mountains. The engine is a coal-burner and before long I had some of their soft coal in my eye. So, I went inside to listen to Greenabaum bawl out the Kibitzer Lissner in a game of bridge. He is deaf and his "friends" call him names and swear at him in a most entertaining way.

Arrived at Skagway at three this afternoon and had five hours to look around. The population there is about five hundred and most of the houses are empty. The main street is typically American. Soda fountains, steamship offices, grocery stores and other institutions not fitted to the general impression of Alaska in the bonanza days.

The Pullen House is the big hostelry. It is really an inviting place and would be a good place to stay. In the entrance they have a small museum of by-gone days. There are several pictures of famous sheriffs and their prey. "Soapy Smith's" picture is there beside that of the sheriff who shot him. The story fits fiction. they shot it out one day and killed each other. In taking the pictures, the photographer sat his expired subjects in a chair with their heads propped up, quite life-like.

On our way back we tried our luck on a punch board, the only evidence of gambling, and Art won a box of candy. We ate it on the way back to the ship.

It was good to get back to the ship and hot water to wash with. The crowd is smaller and we have picked up some new passengers. I arranged with the steward to seat me with Art on the return trip. Fine.

We sailed at eight tonight. A steamer of the Alaska Steamship Line with my mail for home on board was docked ahead of us. It could not leave until we did because of the shallow water. It looks like we will beat it to Seattle and my mail will not arrive until after I do.

The sun was still up at eleven tonight. I was walking on deck trying to make up my mind to turn in. The two girls from Berkeley and Oakdale wanted me to play bridge. Not for me--but I lent them my cards and went off to bed.