27 Stephen’s Passage, Alaska “Headin’ for gold, eh?” an older man asked Michael. Standing on the deck of the steamer Newport, Michael nodded and gave the man his hand. “That I am. Michael Atwell’s the name.” The man exchanged a shake and smiled. “The name’s Zebulon Stanley, but you can call me Zeb.” “Glad to meet you, Zeb.” Michael looked out at the passing collection of islands. “This sure reminds me of home.” Although it was the first week of September, the air had a chilled promise of colder