Chapter 12Autumn passed, and winter fixed its icy grip on Alder Gulch. The miners could no longer make their claims yield gold, as water would have frozen in their sluices, so they relied on their savings from the warmer months—at least those who had been wise enough to save anything. A storekeeper, or a man who worked in a sawmill like Bob Canary, could still ply his trade, but the need for his goods and services was diminished. With more time on the men's hands, the prostitutes and dance hall girls still did a brisk business, though their prices came down some. For her part, Jane dealt Faro and bantered with the men around the table. She thought of Lo sometimes as she pulled cards from the silver box he had taught her to use, and hoped he was well on his way to San Francisco.
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