It's a lottery.

Every claim I buy is a ticket.

And there's sure going to be some capital prizes." Jacob Wilkins, standing in the open door, sniffed incredulously.
"Now supposing, Wilkins," Daylight went on, "supposing you-all knew it was going to rain soup.

What'd you-all do?
Buy spoons, of course.
Well, I'm sure buying spoons.

She's going to rain soup up there on the Klondike, and them that has forks won't be catching none of it." But Wilkins here slammed the door behind him, and Daylight broke off to finish the purchase of the claim.
Back in Dawson, though he remained true to his word and never touched hand to pick and shovel, he worked as hard as ever in his life.