The Lakewood boys in the frozen North

By L. P. Wyman

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Title: The Lakewood boys in the frozen North

Author: L. P. Wyman

Release date: July 15, 2024 [eBook #74044]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: A. L. Burt Company, 1925

Credits: Al Haines


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAKEWOOD BOYS IN THE FROZEN NORTH ***







[Transcriber's note: Unusual spellings are as printed.  A Contents
has been added for reader convenience.]





[Frontispiece: "White boy be heap careful," was Lucky's parting word
as Bob started off. (_Page 117_)
("_The Lakewood Boys in the Frozen North_")
]





  THE LAKEWOOD BOYS
  IN THE FROZEN NORTH


  By L. P. WYMAN, Ph.D.

  Dean of the Pennsylvania Military College


  AUTHOR OF
  "The Lakewood Boys on the Lazy S," "The Lakewood
  Boys and the Lost Mine," "The Lakewood Boys
  and the Polo Ponies," "The Lakewood
  Boys in the South Sea Islands,"
  "The Golden Boys Series," etc.



  A. L. BURT COMPANY
  Publishers New York

  Printed in U. S. A.




  The Lakewood Boys Series

  A SERIES OF STORIES FOR BOYS 12 TO 16
  YEARS OF AGE

  BY L. P. WYMAN, Ph.D.

  Dean of the Pennsylvania Military College

  The Lakewood Boys on the Frozen North
  The Lakewood Boys on the Lazy S
  The Lakewood Boys and the Lost Mine
  The Lakewood Boys and the Polo Ponies
  The Lakewood Boys in the South Sea Islands

  Copyright, 1925
  By A. L. BURT COMPANY

  THE LAKEWOOD BOYS IN THE FROZEN NORTH

  Made in "U. S. A."




  Contents

  Chapter

  I. Shipwrecked
  II. The Struggle
  III. The Cabin by the Shore
  IV. The Boys Start Again for Alaska
  V. Off for the North
  VI. A Northern Blizzard
  VII. A New Kind of Bed-room
  VIII. Timber Wolves
  IX. The Rescue
  X. The Eskimo
  XI. Lucky Brings Back the "Bacon"
  XII. Visitors
  XIII. Lucky Acquires an Arsenal
  XIV. Homeward Bound




  THE LAKEWOOD BOYS IN
  THE FROZEN NORTH



CHAPTER I.

SHIPWRECKED.

G-R-R-R--R!  Thump!

"What was that?"

Jack Lakewood stuck his head out from the lower bunk as he almost
yelled the question.

"What's the matter now?" came in sleepy tones from the upper bunk.

"Sounded as though we'd struck something."

"Oh, go back to sleep, you've been having a nightmare."

"Night-mare nothing.  Listen."

A faint sound of voices reached their ears and, a moment later, the
sound of hurrying footsteps past the door of their state-room brought
Jack out into the middle of the room.

"I tell you we hit something," he cried.  "Don't you notice that the
engines have stopped?"

"You're right about that anyhow," Bob Lakewood replied as he slid
from the upper bunk to the floor.  "We'd better get dressed so as to
be on the safe side."

"I'll say we had," Jack agreed pulling off his pajamas.  "I don't
suppose it's anything--"

"All hands on deck, quick!"

The order was shouted outside their door to be repeated an instant
later further down the corridor.

"That sounds ominous," Bob declared pulling on his trowsers.

"I'll say it does.  We'd better make it snappy."

"Don't forget your money."

"And we'd better slip on a life preserver," Jack added as he pulled
two of them out from beneath the bunk.

"Wonder what we hit?" Bob asked as he strapped the life preserver
over his coat.

"Iceberg likely, or maybe a derelict."

"More likely the latter," Bob said.

"You ready?"

"Come on."

Bob pulled the door open and they stepped out into the corridor.  The
sound of voices some shrill and others low and gruff seemed to fill
the ship.  As they started toward the stairway, a little way back, a
half dressed woman, her arms filled with clothes, rushed up to them.

"Oh, what has happened?" she gasped.

"I'm afraid we hit something," Bob told her.

"Is the ship going to sink?" she cried.

"I hope not," Bob tried to reassure her.  "But you had better get
back to your state-room and finish dressing and put on a preserver."

"Are you sure there'll be time?"

"I think so.  Where is your room?"

"Just around the corner."

"Are you alone?"

"Yes, all alone.  Oh, this is awful.  I know the ship is going to
sink and we'll all be drowned."

"Come quick," Bob ordered taking hold of her arm and drawing her
along.  "Is this your room?" he asked as he turned a corner and saw a
door half open.

"This is it, yes."

"Then lose no time.  Put on the warmest thing you have and, as soon
as you're ready, I'll strap on your life preserver."

The woman slipped into the room and closed the door while he was
speaking.

"All hands on deck, and make it quick."

Doors were opening all along the corridor now and people, some fully
dressed and others only half clothed, were rushing toward the
stairway.

"Better put on life preservers," Bob yelled.

Some turned back at the suggestion while others in a state of frenzy
rushed along the corridor intent only on getting to the upper deck.

"Why doesn't she hurry?" Jack asked impatiently as he glanced both
ways.

"I'm ready."

The door was pushed open and the boys stepped in.  The woman, or
rather girl, for she could not have been more than twenty, was now
fully dressed and, reaching beneath the bunk, Bob dragged out a life
preserver and, an instant later, had it strapped securely about her.

"It's so brave and kind of you to wait for me," she whispered.

"Got a bag?" Bob asked.

"All my valuables are in this little bag," she replied picking up a
small leather bag from the bunk.  "I suppose I'll have to leave my
trunk here," she sighed.

"I'm afraid so," Bob said.  "And you'd better take the bag as we may
be separated," he added.

"All hands out on deck.  No time to lose."

"I'm ready," she cried, and the next moment they were hurrying along
the corridor evidently the last of those who had rooms in that part
of the ship.

"Do you think we're too late?" she gasped as they reached the foot of
the stairway.

"No, they'll have boats enough to hold everybody.  Have to since the
Titanic went down, you know," Bob told her as they started to mount
the stairs.

On deck the scene was one of indescribable confusion.  Officers were
rushing about shouting out orders and trying to calm the excited
passengers, while the creak of ropes as the life boats were lowered
added a sinister note to the occasion.  Cries of men trying to locate
their wives or children and of women separated from their loved ones,
added also to the confusion.

"Women and children first.  Stand back there or I'll fire."

The deck was lighted by many lights and the boys could see the
captain of the ship, close by the rail, as he endeavored to hold back
the swarm of fear crazed men from the steerage as they fought for a
place in each boat before it was lowered to the water.

But he might as well have tried to hold back the tide itself.  The
crowd, many of them foreigners, fought like wild beasts and there was
immediate danger that the brave captain would be overpowered.

"Come on, Jack boy, we've got to take a hand in this," Bob said in a
low voice as he grabbed the girl by the arm and urged her forward.

Holding her close as possible he pushed into the fighting mob closely
followed by Jack.

"Way for the lady," he shouted pushing a big Swede aside.

With a snort of anger the man aimed a blow for Bob's head but he saw
it coming in time to duck and the next instant he had planted a
beautiful right, with all his strength behind it, on the point of the
Swede's chin.  The man went down as though a sledge hammer had struck
him and, for an instant, the crowd gave way enabling them to reach
the captain's side.  A boat was just being lowered and, as Bob spied
an empty seat close up by the bow, he shouted:

"There's room for one more there, Captain."

"All right, but hurry," the captain cried.

Both boys helped the girl over the side into the boat and, a moment
later she vanished as it quickly slid down to the water.

There had been a moment's pause in the mad struggle for a place in
the boats but now, as another was swung over the side, the rush began
again.

"Back, you men.  Women and children first," the captain again shouted
waving his revolver.

"I've as mooch right ter save my life as a woman," shouted a big
German as he reached for the side of the swinging boat.

"Not on this boat, you haven't," Bob yelled as he seized the man by
the coat collar and yanked him back.

The man fell sprawling on the deck and, before he could scramble to
his feet, Bob had leaped onto the rail where he stood holding onto a
rope.  Lifting his free hand high in the air he shouted at the top of
his voice.

"Are you all cowards?  There are still women and children to go in
the boats.  Let's be men."

"Hurrah for the kid," shouted a voice some feet away.

The effect, whether of Bob's short speech or of the man's cheer, was
magical and Jack, who was directly in front of his brother, was quick
to take advantage of the lull in the mad struggle.

"Make way, now, for those women behind there," he shouted as he urged
aside those in front of him.

Like children the foreigners obeyed and in an instant he had opened
up a lane and was beckoning to a dozen women and as many children who
had been standing back despairing of being able to get to the boat.

"Quick, now," he ordered, motioning them to come.

They rushed after him and, a moment later another boat load was
lowered to the water.

Much the same scene had been taking place in other parts of the ship
where the boats were being filled under the supervision of the
officers, but nowhere had the confusion been so great as here.  And
now, it being pretty certain that all the women and children had been
placed in the boats, the men were allowed to take their places and
boat after boat was quickly filled and lowered.  In this work Bob and
Jack assisted the captain in keeping some semblance of order and that
officer was loud in his praise of their action.

"I don't know what I would have done had it not been for you," he
panted as, all the passengers in sight having found a place in the
life boats they had a moment's breathing spell.

"You think she'll go down?" Bob asked.

"No doubt of it.  See how she's settling in the bow."

A single glance was enough to convince even a land lubber that the
big ship was doomed.  Already the deck sloped sharply toward the bow
and in addition there was a decided list to port.

"You boys get into this boat," the captain ordered as two sailors
swung the last boat in sight over the side.  "I must make sure that
no one is left behind."  And, before they could say a word he was off
down the stairway.

There seemed nothing to do but obey his order and they lost no time
in climbing into the boat.

"Is this the last one?" Jack asked one of the sailors who was holding
on to the rope.

"No, there's three or four more on the upper deck but I reckon we
won't need 'em.  Most of the crew has gone already."

"Will he have time to make the round of the ship?" Bob asked
anxiously.

"Reckon so.  The mates are helpin' him.  She ought ter hold up
another fifteen minutes or so."

"What did we hit?" Jack asked.

"Nobody knows fer sure, but it must have been a derelict an' a sunken
one at that 'cause the lookout swears as how he was on his job an'
that there wasn't a thing in sight an' Toby's a good man all right."

"Probably you're right," Bob agreed.

At that moment two men came running from the stern of the ship and
Bob noticed that they wore the uniforms of first and second mates.

"Hasn't the captain come back yet?" the first mate asked anxiously.

"Not yet," one of the sailors replied.

"It's strange.  We left him below and he didn't have as much of the
ship to look through as we did, and he ought to be here."

"He'll have to hustle or he'll be too late," the second mate
declared.  "She's going to take her last dive before many minutes."

As he finished speaking all the lights suddenly went out.
Fortunately it was moonlight and they could see for some distance.

"Water's got up to the dynamos," the first mate announced.

"And what's more the wind's getting up too," the other mate said.

When the boys had first reached the deck there was only a light
breeze blowing, but it had been steadily increasing and now had grown
to a strong wind.

"We can't wait much longer," the second mate declared.  "What in the
world do you suppose is keeping him?"

"But you wouldn't go without him?" Bob suggested.

"I'd hate to, but there's no use in all of us going down."

"Which we're going to do if we're not off in less than ten minutes,"
the other added.  "I tell you she's going down mighty soon."

"Then let's go."

"But we can't leave him," Bob insisted.

"You jest watch us, matey," one of the sailors broke in as he sprang
over the rail into the boat still holding the lowering rope.

"Give me five minutes and I'll go see if I can find him," Bob
proposed.

"All right, but yer've got to hustle," the sailors agreed grudgingly.

Bob waited no longer, but dashed for the stairway.

"You go back, Jack," he shouted as he turned at the head of the
stairs and saw his brother close at his heels.

"Back nothing," the boy yelled.  "Now, don't stop to argue because it
won't do any good."

Bob knew his brother well enough to know that it would be useless to
say anything more so he leaped down the stairs and Jack followed.

"Oh, Captain!" he shouted as soon as he had reached the foot.

There was no answer.

"He must be up forward somewhere," Jack shouted as he started toward
the bow.

Fortunately the boys had had the foresight to slip into their pockets
their flashlights and, with their aid, they quickly located a door on
the far side of the large hall, which opened into a corridor leading
to the bow.  On both sides of this corridor were staterooms and into
these they peeped, Bob taking those on the right side while Jack
followed suit on the left.  But the captain was in none of them and
they reached the open deck in the bow without having discovered him.
From time to time they had called at the top of their voice without
result.

"If he's in this part of the boat he must be dead or unconscious,"
Bob declared as he threw the light from his flash over the deck.

"Well, there's no use standing here," Jack returned.  "There's a
passage on each side close to the rail.  You take one and I'll take
the other."

As Bob reached the right hand rail he noticed with a shudder of alarm
that the water was nearly on a level with the deck.  "She can't stay
afloat much longer," he thought as he pushed open the door of the
first room.

He had covered about half the rooms in the row when he heard a faint
cry from the other side of the ship.

"Bob--Bob.  This way, quick!"

Like a flash he sped down the corridor and, as he reached the other
side of the ship, he saw Jack standing about half way down the
passageway.

"Found him?" he yelled.

"Yes, he in this room, but I'm afraid he's dead."

By this time Bob was at the door of the stateroom and, a moment
later, was bending over the body of the captain who was stretched on
the floor face up.

"He isn't dead," he announced after he had laid his head on his chest.

"Then we've got to get him up.  You take his head and I'll take his
feet.  Quick now."

Fortunately the captain was not a large man and could not have
weighed over one hundred and forty pounds so they had little trouble
in carrying him.

"Wonder if they've waited," Jack panted as they came to the foot of
the stairs.

"We've been gone mor'n five minutes," Bob told him.

A moment later they had reached the middle deck and their first
glance was toward the rail where they had left the two mates and the
two sailors.

"They've gone!" Bob gasped.

"What do you know about that?  The cowards!" Jack added.




CHAPTER II.

THE STRUGGLE.

Ten days previous to the events related in the preceding chapter Bob
and Jack Lakewood were preparing to return East for the fall term at
College.  They had spent the summer on the Lazy S ranch a few miles
from the little town of Cold Springs in the State of Texas, except
for a few weeks during which they had been in Mexico, hunting for a
lost mine.  It was late in October and ordinarily college would have
opened several weeks before but, owing to a serious outbreak of
influenza, the opening had been delayed, giving them several weeks
more of vacation.

The day before they were to start a telegram had come from their
father, bidding them to delay their departure until a letter, which
he had already sent, should reach them.

"That's funny," Bob said as he handed the telegram to Jack.

"What do you suppose is up?" Jack asked as soon as he had read it.

"Curiosity killed a cat, you know."

The last remark came from a girl with bobbed hair and a slightly
turned up nose, who had read the message over Jack's shoulder.  Her
name was Sue Stebbins and her father, Jeb Stebbins, was manager of
the large ranch which was owned by a Mr. Leeds who lived in the East.
Sue, who was something of a tomboy when it came to out-of-doors
sports, ruled all hands, including her father, with, as the latter
often declared, a rod of iron.  But her rule was a generous one and
she was a general favorite with all the hands from the manager down
to the Chinese cook.

"If that was so you'd have been dead long ago," Jack retorted.
"You've only got one life, you know, and a cat has nine."

"But I'm not curious," Sue pouted.

"Oh, no, not a bit," Jack jeered.

"Well, anyhow, it gives you a few days more before you have to go
back to that horrid old college," she smiled.

"Who said it was horrid?" Jack demanded.

"I did.  Anything that takes you two away from the ranch is horrid,
so there."

"I reckon that settles it," Bob broke in laughingly.  "But, honestly,
Sue, we hate to go worse than you can possibly hate to have us."

"Well, we won't argue the point.  Come on, there's just time for a
gallop before supper."

It was three days before the letter came and Bob read it with Jack
and Sue looking over his shoulder.  It was as follows:


My dear boys:

My wire undoubtedly was a great surprise to you and, of course, you
have been wondering what it was all about.

You will, no doubt, recall hearing me speak many times of my brother,
Silas, who lives in the State of Washington.  You have never seen him
as he is a bit queer and has not been East for nearly thirty years,
although he has always been a great rover.  About six months ago he
wrote me that he was going to take a trip to Alaska and try his hand
at mining.  Three months later I received a second letter from Nome
stating that he was about to start for the upper waters of the Yukon
with another man by the name of Long and that they would be gone a
month.  He promised that he would write as soon as they returned, but
I have no word from him and, frankly, I am worried.  He should have
been back two months ago and I should have heard from him a few days
later.

I have wired several times to Nome to find out if he had returned,
but each time have received a reply stating nothing had been heard
from them.

How would you like to take a trip up there and see if you can find
out what has become of him?  I know you ought to be in college, but
you are well up in your studies and the trip will be a new one for
you.  I would go myself, but business will not let me get away just
now.  If your friend, Slats Magee, can go with you so much the
better.  I am so sure that you will want to go that I am inclosing
check for expenses.  Wire what you will do.  Mother sends lots of
love as do I.

Your loving father.


"Do we go?" Bob asked as he finished reading.

"Does a duck swim?" Jack laughed.

"But Slats is laid up with a broken leg," Bob said mournfully.

"And, of course, that's too bad, but I reckon it needn't stop us from
going.  Father didn't say for us not to go without him, you know."

"I know, but--"

"But nothing.  Father wants us to go whether Slats can go or not and
that settles it."

"How about taking me along to take care of you?" Sue asked.

"Huh," Jack snorted.  "Anyone'd think we were a couple of babies."

"And I reckon we'd have to have a chaperon along if we took you," Bob
laughed.

"Well, of course, I didn't mean it, but just the same, I wish I was a
boy and then I could go," Sue pouted.

Mr. Stebbins, or Jeb as everyone called him, shook his head when they
showed him the letter.

"Your father has a lot of confidence in you for a fact and I'm not
saying that it's misplaced, but I can't help thinking that it's risky
for you two boys to go away off up there.  If Slats could go along
I'd feel better about it but, of course, that's out of the question.
Yes, I know your father wants you to go," he added as Bob was about
to speak, "and of course, the thing for you to do is to go only--"

Within an hour a wire was on its way to Mr. Lakewood, saying that
they were starting as soon as they could get ready.  Then followed a
busy time looking up routes and making reservations, to say nothing
of outfitting themselves with clothing suitable for wear in the far
North.

Slats Magee, just beginning to hobble around, on crutches, was loud
in his bewailment of the fate which kept him at home.

"If it was only an arm, now," he groaned.  "I'd put it in a sling an'
go anyhow."

They found that they could get a boat from Seattle on a Monday and as
that was only three days off, they were kept busy the most of the
time.  Finally the moment came to say good-bye and, as the train
pulled out from Cold Springs, Sue waved her hand from the platform
and shouted:

"Look out you don't fall in love with an Esquimo girl."

* * * * * * * * *

Hoping that the lifeboat might not have left the side of the ship the
boys laid the form of the captain on the deck and rushed to the rail.

"Too late," Jack cried as he pointed to a spot of light dancing up
and down some distance from the ship.

"Yes, they've gone all right," Bob agreed.

"What'll we do?"

"There must be another boat.  Didn't one of the mates say there were
others on the upper deck?"

"Yes, he said so, but do you suppose we can get it over in time?"

"We can try."

Rushing back to the head of the stairway they again picked the
captain up and a moment later were on the upper deck.  There they
were encouraged to find three lifeboats hanging from their davits
and, placing their burden gently down, they set about getting it
ready to lower.

"Hurry," Jack gasped as the boat gave a sickening lurch.  "She's
going in a minute or two."

Jack had quickly succeeded in getting his rope clear, but Bob was not
so fortunate.  His had gotten caught and it took him some time to get
it free.

"I'm doing the best I can," he panted pulling frantically at the
stiff rope.  "There, she's free.  Now you hold them while I drag him
over."

He handed his rope to Jack and rushed back a few feet for the
captain.  It was hard work getting him into the boat, but it was
finally accomplished and, springing in after him, they quickly began
to lower away.  As the boat touched the water a heavy wave dashed it
against the side of the ship and all but upset it, but Bob grabbed an
oar and succeeded in fending it off before the next wave hit them
and, a moment later, he was pulling on both oars with all his
strength.

They were not twenty feet away from the ship when a loud explosion
told them that the water had reached the boilers.

"Guess that'll finish her," Bob gasped.

Hardly had he spoken when the stern of the ship rose in the air and a
moment later the ill-fated ship slid beneath the waves.

"Good-bye, Majestic," Jack groaned.

Now that the danger from the suction, caused by the big ship, was
over, Bob rested on his oars and looked about him.  The sea was rough
and the lifeboat danced up and down, but he knew there was no danger
unless the wind increased in strength.  Far away he could see several
points of light which he knew marked the location of the other
lifeboats, but the boats themselves he could not see as heavy clouds
had obscured the moon.

"Guess we'd better pull toward them," he said as he again bent to the
oars.

"Let me take them," Jack suggested.

"You see if you can bring the captain around first.  I'm not tired
yet."

The form of the captain lay on the bottom of the boat at Jack's feet
and the boy slid from his seat and took his head in his lap.

"He's still breathing," he announced.

"Good.  Get some water on his head."

Under his ministrations the man soon sighed and, a moment later
opened his eyes.

"Where am I?" he whispered.

"You're safe," Jack replied.  "How do you feel?"

"I'll be all right in a minute.  The ship?  Did it--"

"Yes, she went down," Jack told him.

The captain closed his eyes and for a moment did not move.  Then he
again opened them and, in a much stronger voice, asked:

"How did I get in this boat?"

"Why, we put you in."

"But the others?"

"They're in another boat."

"They didn't wait?"

"No."

"Then how--"

"Better wait till you're a bit stronger, sir," Jack suggested as the
captain hesitated.

"I'm all right now," he insisted as he raised his head from the boy's
lap.

Seeing that he was determined to sit up Jack helped him to the seat
on which he had been sitting.

"Now suppose you tell me about it," he said.

"Well, there isn't much to tell," Jack began.  "When you didn't come
back we went to find you and--and found you."

"But where were the two mates?  Did they get back before you left?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, why didn't they go?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Well, I guess I can see about the way it was and I guess I owe my
life to you two boys.  But, tell me, didn't they agree to wait till
you came back?"

"Well, they said they'd wait five minutes, but I guess we were
considerable longer than that," Jack told him.

"And they went off without you, eh?"

"I'm afraid they did, sir."

"I know it, but perhaps it's best not to judge them too harshly.  I
suppose a man has a right to save his own life."

"But what happened to you, sir?" Bob asked as he rested on his oars
for a moment.

"I must have fainted," the captain told them.  "You see I was subject
to fainting spells some years ago and had to give up the sea for
several years but, after I had gone five years without a single one,
I thought I was over them and persuaded the owners to let me have a
command again.  This was my first voyage," he groaned.  "But I
suppose the excitement and severe strain was responsible for the
relapse.  I shall never try it again."

"Do we seem to be getting any nearer the other boats?" Bob asked a
little later.

"It's hard to say," the captain replied.  "But I don't think we're
gaining much if any."

"Let me spell you now," Jack said as he rose from his seat.

While they had been talking the wind had been steadily rising and now
it was blowing almost a gale making it difficult to keep the boat's
head into the wind.

"Just a minute," Bob cried pulling strongly on his right oar.  "It
won't do to let her get broadside," he added as he moved over on his
seat to give Jack room.

It was a fortunate thing that they were used to boats else it is
doubtful if they would have been able to change places without
allowing the craft to wallow in the trough, but they finally
accomplished it and Bob was glad to rest his aching arms.

"Have you any idea how far we are from shore, sir?" he asked as soon
as he had settled himself in the seat beside the captain.

"A matter of twenty-five or thirty miles.  As you know we were about
twelve hours out, but we've been running not far from land."

In spite of his warm clothing Bob's teeth soon began to chatter as
the night was cold and he had been sweating from the violent exercise
of rowing.  Fortunately the captain had on his heavy coat and,
although he acknowledged that he was none too warm, he was not
shivering.

"What do you think of the weather, sir?" Bob asked a few minutes
later.

"I don't like it.  I'm afraid we'll have snow before morning."

As if to confirm his words Bob felt a snow flake strike his face.

"I'm afraid you're right, sir," he said.

The first flake was quickly followed by others and in less than ten
minutes they were flying thick and fast driven by the strong wind,
and so great was their velocity that they stung like needles as they
struck the skin.

"Getting tired, Jack?" Bob shouted.

"No, not yet," Jack called stoutly back.

"Well, I'm coming anyhow so move over.  There's no use in taking too
long shifts and, besides, I want to get warmed up a bit," he added as
he reached the seat by his brother's side.  "We've simply got to take
it as easy as we can for goodness knows how long we'll have to keep
this up."

The lights from the other boats had disappeared soon after it had
begun to snow and now there was nothing to be seen about them save
the swirling snow and the white foam of the water as the wind blew
off the tops of the waves.

"Wonder if there's anything to eat or drink in this boat," Jack said
as soon as he had reached his former seat beside the captain.

"There should be both food and water," the latter replied.  "All the
lifeboats are kept stocked in case of an emergency such as this."

"Where would it be?"

"Right back of you in the locker."

Jack turned half around and, reaching beneath the seat in the stern
lifted the cover of a small box fitted in the narrow space.  But it
was empty and, with a sinking heart, he turned back.

"Guess they forgot to stock this boat," he announced.

"You mean there's nothing there?"

"Not a thing."

"It's criminal negligence," the captain declared.  "It's the purser's
business to see that the lifeboats are kept stocked, but the fellow
we have is always neglecting his work, but, as he's some relative of
the owners it's been overlooked and now we've got to suffer for it."

The storm seemed to increase and Bob was having all he could do to
keep the boat head on.  He had lost all sense of direction and had no
idea whether he was rowing toward the shore or out to sea.  They were
running with the wind and he judged that they must be making several
miles an hour.

"It's my turn now," the captain shouted a few minutes after Jack had
discovered the lack of food and water.

Both boys protested against the move, but the man declared that he
was all right and well able to do his share of the work.

"Besides I need to get warmed up a bit," he added as he shifted his
position to the rower's seat.

"Looks like we might not get out of this scrape," Jack said in a low
tone as soon as Bob was seated beside him.

"Never say die," Bob replied hopefully.  "I've seen sicker cats than
this get well, and don't forget, Jack boy, that God can take care of
us just as well out here as He can on the land."

"I know it and, believe me, I've been asking Him to do that very
thing."

"So have I, and I believe He will."

The dismal night wore on.  At times the snow slackened until it had
almost ceased only to swirl down harder than ever a few minutes
later.  The wind kept about the same.  Every half hour they changed
shifts, as Jack called it, an arrangement which gave each an hour's
rest after a half hour of strenuous labor.  And each welcomed the
chance to row in spite of the hard work as he suffered with the cold
while resting.

"It'll be daylight in another hour," Bob announced as he moved to
Jack's side to take his shift.

"But I don't believe we'll be able to see much better than we can now
unless this snow lets up," Jack declared as he gave up the oars.

"Well, it can't keep on snowing forever," Bob added hopefully.

Just at that instant, as they were changing places, an extra strong
gust struck the boat and Bob, feeling the bow swing off, put all his
strength into his left oar in a desperate effort to straighten his
course.  Snap!  The oar broke like a pipe stem and the boat was
wallowing in the trough in an instant.  Almost instantly a huge wave
broke over it filling it half full of water and nearly throwing it
over.

"She'll go over in a minute," Bob shouted.

An instant later and his words proved true for the very next wave
caught the boat just right and over she went.




CHAPTER III.

THE CABIN BY THE SHORE.

The water was icy cold and as Bob went beneath the surface it seemed
to him that his blood froze in his veins.  Thanks to the cork jacket
which he had kept on his head bobbed out of the water almost
immediately and, as he rose on the top of a wave, he looked about for
Jack, and saw him only a few feet away.

"Where's the captain?" he shouted.

"Don't know," Jack shouted back shaking the water from his eyes.

Both boys were expert swimmers and, with the help of the life
preservers, they had no difficulty in keeping afloat although the big
waves dashed over their heads filling their eyes with salt water.

"I'm afraid he's a goner," Bob gasped as he fought his way to his
brother's side.  "He didn't have on a preserver, you know."

"And I reckon we're goners too in spite of them," Jack chattered back.

Bob felt in his heart that Jack was right unless a miracle happened
as he well knew that no one could live long in that cold water which
seemed to penetrate to the very marrow of the bones.

"Swim hard so as to keep up the circulation," he began and then
paused as his eyes caught sight of something floating in the water
only a few feet to his right.  A few powerful strokes brought him to
the spot, but the object had disappeared.  With a prayer on his lips
he dove and swam downward with all his strength.  Down, down, he
struggled until he knew that he had reached his limit.  Then, just as
he was about to turn, his outstretched hand came in contact with
something and he knew he had found what he was after.  The memory of
that awful struggle to the surface haunted his dreams for months
afterward.  But, although it seemed as though his lungs would burst
with pressure and he more than once nearly lost his hold, he finally
succeeded and, to his great relief, he came up close beside Jack.

"Hold him a minute," he gasped.

As Jack relieved him he drank in great gulps of air and immediately
felt the strength pouring bade info his body.

"Is he dead?" Jack shouted.

"Don't know, but we must keep him up as long as we can."

"You bet."

Holding the form of the captain between them they fought the waves
striving to protect him from their fury as much as possible.  The
wind had swept the overturned boat far beyond their reach and they
knew it would be useless to try to reach it.

"I--I'm about all in," Jack gasped after they had fought but a few
minutes.

Bob knew that he himself was in about the same condition, but he
would not give up as long as an ounce of strength remained.

"Let me have him while you rest a bit," he said trying to keep his
teeth from chattering and the weakness from his voice.

"Not--much," he heard Jack murmur.

Bob did not have enough strength to insist and so they kept on until
it seemed he could not possibly take another stroke.  Was this to be
the end?

"I--I've got to--give--" he heard Jack cry but, at the same moment
his heart gave a great leap for his feet touched something and, the
next instant he was standing only waist deep in the water and helping
Jack to recover his footing while holding the captain's head above
water with one hand.

"Just in time," he encouraged his brother.

"I--I'll say--it was," Jack's teeth chattered so that he could hardly
speak.

Between them they managed to drag the unconscious form of the captain
through the shallow water to the shore, which was covered to a depth
of several inches, with snow.

"What are we going to do?" Jack panted as he looked about him.
"We'll all be frozen stiff in a few minutes if we stand here.
Suppose we can get a fire going?"

"I've got a waterproof box of matches somewhere but I'm afraid we'll
not be able to find anything that'll burn."

"Well we'd better--" Jack began and then uttered a cry of joy.
"There comes somebody," he shouted.

Through the gloom they could see a point of light swinging in such a
way that they knew someone was approaching with a lantern.

"This way, quick," Bob shouted, and, a moment later a tall, thickset
man stood beside them.

"Whar from you come, oui?" he asked.

"We were wrecked and--and, is there a house near?" Bob replied.

"Oui, ver' close by," the man told them and then, putting his hands
to his mouth shouted: "Hey Jacques, Pierre, come queek, queek."

It seemed that he had hardly called before an answering shout came
through the night and two forms, dimly seen at first, soon joined
them.

"You tak' heem to the house queek," the man ordered, and as the
others picked up the captain as though he was a child, he turned to
the boys.

"You think you walk heem?  Eet's just behind that bush clump."

"Sure, we're all right," Bob assured him as they started off through
the snow.

As they rounded the clump of bushes a good sized log cabin loomed
before them and, in another minute, they were inside in front of a
roaring fireplace.

"You geet dem wet things off queek now and tak' one bon rub with
deese towel," their benefactor ordered as he pulled a couple of
coarse, but clean towels from a chest.  "Dem boys dey look after
heem," he added nodding toward the other side of the fire where
Jacques and Pierre were already at work stripping the wet clothing
from the captain.

"Is--is he alive?" Bob asked.

"Oui, heem still breath some, but heem one mighty close call.  Mebby
heem geet well, mebby not.  Eet for the bon Dieu to say.  We do the
best we can."

"God must have sent you out to us," Jack declared rubbing his body
till it glowed.

"Oui, Le Dieu, heem tell me go out.  Me go."

A few minutes later wrapped in heavy blankets they were toasting
their feet in front of the fireplace and drinking hot coffee while
the captain, also wrapped in blankets, had been placed in one of the
bunks which lined one side of the cabin, after everything possible
had been done.  He was still unconscious and they knew that his life
hung in the balance.

"I never thought I'd be so warm again," Jack sighed contentedly as he
sipped his second dipper of hot coffee.

"Nor did I," Bob agreed.  "It was little short of a miracle.  But
what I can't understand is why there wasn't more surf where we came
ashore."

"That's so.  I never thought of it, but it does seem strange.  Maybe
we drifted into a cove or something."

"Reckon we must have."

"We'll ask one of the men when they come in," Jack said as he
listened to the sounds which came from a back room, which he supposed
was the kitchen and which indicated that they were getting a meal.

"Wonder what became of the other boats."

"They didn't come in where we did, that's sure."

"Maybe they were picked up."

"I hope so."

The faint light of the coming dawn was just beginning to steal in
through the window when, a little later, they heard a low moan from
the bunk where the captain had been laid.  Bob hurried across the
room, closely followed by Jack, and bent over the bed.  The captain's
eyes were open, but in them was no sign of recognition.

"Hard to the starboard," he muttered.  And then, "Starboard I said,
not port."

Bob laid his hand on the man's forehead and, as he expected, found it
very hot.

"He's burning up with fever," he told Jack.

"You--you think?"

"Pneumonia, most likely."

Just then the door opened and Pierre came in with the announcement
that breakfast was ready.

"The captain has recovered consciousness, but he's out of his head,"
Bob told him.

"Oui, we thot he would be.  Jacques, heem gone for doctor."

"How long will it take?"

"Eet tak' long time--too bad--eet thirty mile an heem have to walk,
but heem go ver' fast an' come back wid horse, mebby gas wagon."

"But he may die before he gets the doctor here."

"I think not.  We geeve heem medicine."

"Pray God he may live," Bob sighed.

"Oui, we pray.  Now you geet eats.  I watch heem."

Had food ever tasted so good as those baked beans and hot biscuit to
say nothing of the huge wedge of apple pie which followed?  Both boys
agreed that if it had they had forgotten when or where.

"If I eat another mouthful I'll burst," Bob declared as he pushed
back his chair.

"Well, I can still chew, but that's the limit.  There won't another
bit go down," Jack added.

Breakfast over they found that their clothes had dried and they were
soon, as Jack put it, clothed in their right minds once more.  The
three Frenchmen, they soon learned, were trappers and had lived here
for years as they were brothers and none had married.

The captain was raving as they came again info the big living room
and, at times, Pierre was having his hands full to hold him in the
bunk.

"Heem ver' bad, but heem got lots strength an' that bon sign," he
said as they approached.

"You think he'll pull through?" Bob asked anxiously.

"No can tell."  Pierre shook his head.

"Can we do anything?"

"Non.  I geeve him medicine, all we can do."

As they walked slowly around the clump of bushes and looked out over
the tumbling water they saw that their conjecture regarding the surf,
or rather the lack of it, had been correct.  A small cove, the points
of which were only a few yards apart, broke the violence of the
waves, making the water inside comparatively still.

"It's lucky we hit the opening," Bob said as he watched the rollers
come in and break outside the cove.

"I'll say it was.  I doubt if we could have gotten ashore outside
without having the life knocked out of us," Jack agreed.

"It's awful when you think what may have happened to the rest of
them," Bob said as they turned back.

"But they may have been picked up or got ashore all right."

"We'll hope so at any rate."

It was nearly two o'clock when the doctor came in a small touring car
with Jacques.  After a hasty examination he confirmed their fears
that it was pneumonia.

"Both lungs are congested," he told them.  "But his heart action is
strong and he's evidently lived a clean life, two very important
factors in a case of this kind."

"Then you think he has a chance?" Bob asked.

"Sure he has," the doctor assured him.  "But, of course, you never
can tell how pneumonia is going to turn out.  Much depends on the
nursing."

"Can we get a trained nurse?"

"You've got one."  The doctor nodded toward Pierre who had stepped
over to the fireplace.  "What that fellow doesn't know about nursing
hasn't yet been learned.  I'd rather have him than anyone I know."

"He was the captain of the steamer."

"Is that so?  How did it happen that you three were together?"

Bob told him the story of their escape.  "Did you hear anything of
any of the other boats?" he asked when he had finished.

"Yes, three of them came ashore about ten miles down the coast and
the others were picked up early this morning a few miles out."

"Then there were no deaths?"

"Not unless some of them die from the effects."

"It's good to know that," Bob assured him.

The doctor left an hour later promising to come again the next day
and somehow the boys felt encouraged although they realized that the
captain was a very sick man.

"We'll have to stay here till it goes one way or the other," Bob
whispered to Jack as the doctor drove off.

"Of course, unless we'll be in the way."

But Baptist, the older of the three brothers and the one who had
found them, assured them that so far from being in the way, they
could do much to help as they had their traps to see to.  So they
remained and did all they could to help about the place.  When the
doctor came the next day he found his patient about the same and told
them that in all probability there would not be much change for
another week at least.  When he left the boys asked him to take a
message to wire to their father and also to the ranch that they were
safe.

Day followed day with little or no change in the sick man.  Pierre
was untiring in his nursing and the boys soon found that the doctor's
praise had not been misplaced.  No woman could have been more tender
than was this rough appearing Frenchman.  Night and day he watched by
the bed of the stricken man leaving his post only long enough to
snatch a few hours' sleep each day.  At times the captain was in his
right mind for a few minutes and then he recognized them with a faint
smile of gratitude.  But for the most part he lay in a stupor.  Only
occasionally did he rave and then his mutterings were all of the sea.

Once his heart nearly stopped beating and Pierre thought, for a
moment that he was gone, but an injection of a powerful stimulant
brought him around.  Then, a few days later, came the crisis and the
two boys waited with bated breath while Pierre bent over the bunk
watching for the slightest sign of change.

"Queek.  The blankets," he shouted suddenly, and they grabbed from
before the fireplace the thick woolen blankets which had been hanging
there for several hours.

"Shut the windows," Pierre ordered as he snatched them from their
hands.

Quickly he wrapped the man in the warm folds and then sat with his
fingers on his pulse.

"Heem will live."  Pierre sprang to his feet as he made the
announcement and the boys never forgot the look on his face as he
closed his eyes.  They knew he was praying and they bowed their heads.

"See heem sweat."

Bending over the captain, who lay with closed eyes, they could see
the great drops of sweat on his forehead and knew that Pierre had
spoken the truth.  The fever was broken and, barring the unexpected,
the captain was on the road to recovery.

"Thank God," Bob breathed as they moved away.

"Amen," Jack added.

Great was the joy of Baptist and Jacques, when they returned from a
trip to their traps shortly before dark, to learn the good news.

"And it's all due to your nursing, Pierre," Bob declared.

"Non--non.  Le Bon Dieu, heem watch over heem," the Frenchman
insisted.

"Yes, he'll pull through all right now," the doctor said when he came
the following day.  "Didn't I tell you he was a good nurse?"

"He's the best ever," Bob assured him.

Another week and the captain was able to sit up though still very
weak.

"I owe my life twice to you boys," he said slowly as Bob pushed his
chair nearer to the fire.

"But most of all to Pierre," Bob reminded him.

"I know, and he shall have his reward if he will accept it.  I am not
a poor man by any means, but what do you think?  Can I offer him
money?"

"I don't think he would accept it?"

"Nor do I.  And yet I must do something.  What would you suggest?"

"Wait till you get home and then send them all a good present."

"I'll do it.  You don't find men like them very often."

It had been arranged that the boys were to leave the next day.  Now
that the captain was well out of danger they felt that they must not
delay longer and the doctor was to take them back to the little town
thirty miles down the coast, where they could get a train for Seattle.




CHAPTER IV.

THE BOYS START AGAIN FOR ALASKA.

"Well, we're off again."

It was two days after they had left the log cabin by the sea and the
steamer, on which they had, for the second time, engaged passage, was
drawing slowly away from the wharf.

"And here's hoping we have better luck than last time," Bob returned
and he leaned over the rail.  "But I might as well confess that I
feel a bit squeemish."

"But lightning never strikes twice in the same place you know," Jack
laughed.

"And, by the same token, I don't suppose we're likely to hit that
same derelict but there are others, you know," Bob smiled back.

"I know, but let's not borrow trouble."

"Pardon me, but are you Bob and Jack Lakewood?"

The boys turned quickly at the question and were much surprised to
see the captain of the ship standing before them.

"Yes, sir."

Both boys answered at the same time.

"I thought so," the captain smiled, holding out both hands which the
boys, although greatly puzzled, were quick to grasp.  "I am Richard
Blake and, as you have probably noted by my uniform, have the honor
to command this ship."

"Yes, we noticed it," Jack said as the captain paused.

"But you probably do not know that the man you saved is my brother."

"No, sir, we did not.  He told us that his name was Blake and that he
had a brother who was also a captain, but you do not look like him."
Bob smiled.

"That's true," the captain smiled back.  "Frank is light and small
while I am dark and rather above the average in size, but he's my
brother just the same and more than that he's the best brother a man
ever had."

"I can easily believe that, sir," Bob began and then stopped short.
"No, I don't either," he corrected.  "Make it as good a brother as a
man ever had and I won't say a word, but he can't be any better than
the one I've got."

The captain again reached out his hand and, as soon as Bob had
grasped if, said:

"That's one of the finest things I ever heard, and I'll accept the
suggestion.  Son," he added turning to Jack whose face was flushed,
"you also have a good brother so we might as well make it a trio."

"All I've got to say is that if you've got as good a brother as I
have you've got as good as they make," Jack grinned.

"I'm not going to try to thank you," the captain continued after a
moment's pause and both boys noticed that his eyes were dim with
tears.  "There are some things which are beyond thanks and--and I
know you know how I feel."

"Indeed we do, sir," Jack assured him.

"But, during this trip you are my guests.  I have already arranged
for you to sit at my table."

"That's very good of you, sir, and we certainly do appreciate it,"
Bob assured him.

"But please don't tell anyone about it," Jack begged.

"I won't," the captain smiled.

But in some way or other the truth leaked out and before the trip was
a day old they, much to their disgust, found themselves regarded as
heroes by crew and passengers alike.  But, in spite of it, the trip
proved most enjoyable.  The weather was perfect and the captain
seemed to take great delight in showing them the different parts of
the ship and in answering their many questions.  They, in turn, took
him into their confidence as to the object of their journey and he
expressed great surprise that their lather had sent them on such a
mission.

"Alaska is a mighty big place," he told them, "and in the winter it's
a very rough place let me tell you."

"You think it's dangerous: the trip up the Yukon, I mean?" Bob asked
him.

"Well, for you two boys to take such a trip at this time of the year
would be decidedly dangerous, not to say foolhardy, but if you get a
good native to go with you the risk will, of course, be much less."

"And do you think we can get one?"

"I guess there's little doubt about that provided you can afford it.
They charge a pretty stiff price these days."

"I'm sure father would want us to have a guide and will be willing to
pay whatever is right."

"Then by all means do it."

"Do you know of a man we can get?"

"Not personally, but I know a fellow up there who will know where to
get the right man and I'll attend to it."

"That's very good of you, and--"

"Good nothing," the captain interrupted.  "You forget what I owe you
two boys."

It was late in the afternoon when, a few days later, the ship steamed
up to her wharf at Nome.

"My, it's quite some city," Jack declared as he stood with Bob and
the captain in the pilot house.

"Largest in Alaska," the captain assured them.

"What's the population?" Bob asked.

"It was about 2,600 the last census and I guess it hasn't changed
much since."

The captain had invited them to remain on board as his guests while
the ship remained in port instead of going to a hotel and they had
been glad to accept the invitation.

"The ship will be here for three days and I won't have much to do so
we can put in the time together getting your outfit in shape," he
told them.

"That'll be fine if you can spare the time," Bob assured him.

"It'll keep me out of mischief," the man laughed.

"But don't you think it would be a good idea to see if we can find
someone who knew my uncle?  You see he was here for several weeks and
he must have gotten acquainted with somebody who would know something
about where he started for," Jack suggested.

"Of course, and I think I can name the very man to go to.  If he got
well acquainted with anyone here the chances are a hundred to one
that it was Pete Slinger.  Pete's a character, but a good reliable
man all the same.  I don't believe there's a man, woman or child in
Nome that doesn't know Pete well enough to call him by his first name
and as for Pete--well, he can tell you the life history of about
everyone who has spent upwards of two days in Nome during the past
ten years."

"Is he Irish?" Bob asked.

"Irish and French."

"What does he do?" Jack asked.

"Keeps a store and sells everything from tooth picks to second hand
pulpits."

"He ought to do some business," Bob remarked.

"He does.  He looks like a tramp, but I guess there's little doubt,
but that he's a got a good sized roll laid up against a rainy day.
We'll go and see him right after supper tonight."

As the three friends walked up the main street of the town that night
the boys were much surprised to find that it differed but little from
towns with which they were familiar in the northern part of Maine.
Except for an occasional Esquimo the people also seemed much the same
being largely French Canadians with a liberal sprinkling of Americans.

"Gee, I expected to see polar bears running about the streets," Jack
laughed.

"And reindeer pulling the pungs I suppose," the captain added.

"Sure thing," Jack assured him whereat they all laughed.

"Well, here we are," the captain said as they stopped in front of one
of the largest buildings on the street.  "This is Pete's place."

There were several men and two or three women in the store as they
entered, but no sooner did the proprietor catch sight of the captain
than he dropped a sugar scoop back in the barrel and, pushing his
customers right and left, came rushing up.

"Faith an' yer a sight fer sore eyes so yer be," he cried as he
grasped the captain's hands in both of his.

"And, believe me, I'm glad to see you again," the captain laughed.
"But I want you to meet my two friends, Bob and Jack Lakewood."

The Irishman, a small man standing not over five feet two or three
inches and weighing less than a hundred and twenty pounds, looked at
the two boys for a full minute before speaking.

"Don't be after tellin' me thot they're the byes what saved Frank,"
he said at last.

"But they are," the captain assured him.

Without a word the small man threw his arms about Bob's neck and gave
him a hearty hug at the same time kissing him on both cheeks.  Then,
releasing him he gave Jack the same treatment.

"The store's yer's, the house's yer's, bless me heart the whale
blamed town's yer's, yes wid all uv Canada throwed in," he cried.
Then turning to the people who were standing looking wonderingly on,
he shouted: "Did yer hear ut?  These be the byes whot saved Cap'n
Frank whin his ship went down.  What yer standin' thar fer loike a
lot uv dummies?  Come up here forninst and shake hands wid 'em ivery
mother's son uv yer."

The people needed no second invitation and in another moment the boys
were busy shaking hands and murmuring their thanks.

"Now git out uv here all uv yees an' let me talk wid me friends," the
storekeeper ordered and the boys were amazed at the meekness and
celerity with which the order was obeyed.

"Don't let us interfere with your business," Bob said.

"Interfere nuttin'.  They'll all be back inside an hour," the man
assured him as he led the way back to one corner of the store which
was fitted up as an office.  "Sit down wid yer an' tell me all about
it," he ordered.

Bob gave him an account of the wreck keeping himself and Jack out of
it as much as he could and when he had finished the storekeeper
turned to Captain Blake and said:

"'Tis modest they are as well as brave an' thot's a mighty good
combination let me tell yer.  I've heard uv thim Canucks down toward
Seattle whot took Frank an' the byes in but I've niver seen 'em.
Believe me, they're goin' ter git a good presint from old Pete.
Can't yer see I'm busy the minute?"  This last was shouted at a man
who had just come in the store and was noisily drumming on the
counter in an effort to attract attention.  Without a word he turned
and went out.

"You've sure got your customers well trained, Pete," the captain
smiled.

"They know better'n ter fool wid me," Pete grinned.  "Jerry's sick
wid a bad cold an' it laves me all alone in the store," he explained.
"By the way," he added as though with a sudden thought, "I wonder if
you bye's are related iny ter a man what was here a few weeks ago..
His name was the same as yourn, front name was Silas, Silas Lakewood."

"He is our uncle," Bob told him.  "And we've come up here to find
him.  Did you know him?"

"I did thot.  He used ter come in a lot an' chin wid me an' a mighty
interstin' chinner he was too, let me tell yer.  Guess he'd bin about
all over the world."

"Yes, Uncle Silas was a great traveler and the funny part of it is
that we've never seen him."

"Is thot so?  It do seem strange.  He's a kinder queer loike feller
too: didn't seem half the time ter know jest what he did want, but
allys seemed ter be wantin' sumpin'."

"Did you know he was going up the Yukon with a man by the name of
Long?" Bob asked anxiously.

"Yep, he told me all about it a few days afore he left an' I did all
I could ter keep him from goin'."

"Why was that?"

"Cause I didn't trust thot man, Long, what was a goin' wid him, not
none I didn't.  But his mind was made up and thar was no sech thing
as changin' him.  He thought Long was all thot he made hisself out
ter be an' yer couldn't say a word agin him."

"But do you know where they were going?  He wrote father that they
would be gone only a month."

"An' he told me the same thing an' here he's been gone, let me see,
it must be most three months.  He told me thot they were goin' up the
Yukon as fer as whar the Koynkuk empties inter it an' thin they were
goin' ter follow thot river up a piece, but he didn't say jest how
fer."

"How far is the Koynkuk from here?" Bob asked,

"Matter uv 250 or 300 miles more or less."

"And he only expected to take a month for the trip.  It seems to me
that that wouldn't leave them much time to prospect after they got up
there."

"Jest whot I told him, but he said Long said they could do ut in thot
time an' he sure did trust thot man worse luck."

"What's the score against Long?" Captain Blake asked.

"I dunno thar's anything agin him thot yer could lay yer finger on,
but he's kinder slippery loike an eel an' I niver did cotton ter him.
He may be all right, but I'm bettin' he ain't."

"Did they take a good store of supplies with them?" Jack asked.

"'Bout enough fer a month I should say."

"Well, Pete," Captain Blake said after a short pause, "the boys want
to go after him and it's up to you to get them a good guide, a man
you can trust."

"Sure an' it's meself as knows jest the man if he's at home.  I
haven't seen him fer two or three days, but he's prob'ly round
somewhars.  Yer sit here a minute an' I'll find out."

Pete left the store by the front door and was gone about ten minutes.

"Lucky Hogan'll be here in a few minutes," he announced when he
returned.  "He's in town an' it's three men I sent ter find him."

"He's Irish?" Captain Blake asked.

Pete laughed.  "Thot's the funny part uv it.  Thar's not a drop uv
Irish blood in him: he's pure Injun: a full blooded Crow."

"Then that isn't his real name?"

"I dunno.  S'pose not, but it's what iveryone calls him."

"He's reliable?"

"Yer don't s'pose I'd sent fer him if he wasn't do yer?" Pete replied
a bit nettled.

"Of course not," the captain hastened to assure him.  "I just asked
the question without thinking."

"I'd trust Lucky wid me own life an' so would anyone else what knows
him," Pete affirmed.

"And you think he'll go?" Bob asked.

"Sure, but yer'll have ter pay him five dollars a day.

"We'll be glad to," Bob assured him.

"Why do they call him Lucky?" Jack asked.

"I dunno.  He niver's had iny great luck not's fer's I know."

"I suppose you can fit them out all right, Pete?" Captain Blake asked.

"Lave ut ter me.  Whin do you want ter start?" he asked, turning to
Bob.

"Why, the sooner the better, I suppose.  Let's see, today's Friday.
Do you think we could get off on Monday?"

"Nuthin' ter prevent fur's I can see."

"Is the Yukon froze over yet?" Jack asked.

"Sure it is wid five or six inches uv ice on it.  If it wasn't fer
the snow yer could make foine time on skates, but thar's apt ter be a
big snow storm iny time now."

"How cold do you boys think it is now?" the captain asked.

"Must be pretty near down to freezing," Jack replied.

Pete laughed.

"Did you notice the thermometer when you went out?" the captain asked.

"Ut was ten below."

"You mean below zero?" Jack asked doubtfully.

"Sure I do."

"Well, it doesn't seem possible.  It must be mighty dry up here.  It
would seem colder than this at that temperature in Maine and it's
pretty dry there."

"Wait till it gets fifty below thin yer'll know it's cold," Pete
laughed.

"We've seen it forty below in Maine," Bob told him.

Just then the front door opened and a man stepped in and, after
looking about for a moment, came over toward the office.  That he was
an Indian there could be little doubt.  Tall and straight as an arrow
his coal black hair and piercing black eyes gave to him a dignity
which at once caught their attention.  At the same time there was
that about the man which inspired trust and this they both felt
instinctively.

"Sam say you want see Injun heap queek," he said as he stood before
them.

"An' Sam said jest right, begorra.  Lucky, this is Cap'n Blake,
you've prob'ly seen him, but yer niver saw these two byes afore an' I
want yer should understand as how they're particular friends uv mine.
They saved Cap'n Frank's life that's what they did."

Both boys had risen from their chairs as Pete started his
introduction and now they both held out their hand with a smile.

"Injun heap glad know friends of Pete's an' Cap'n Frank, heem heap
fine man.  Injun know heem long time.  Heem good to Injun."

"Now I remember hearing Frank speak of you," the captain said as he
in turn shook the Indian's hand.  "It seems rather strange that I've
never met you before."

"Cap'n Frank, your brother?" the Indian asked.

"Yes, but we don't look much alike."

"You heap bigger."

"And darker too," the captain added.

"Sot yerself, Lucky, an' it's meself as'll tell yer what we want,"
Pete said and explained the situation to him.  "You can go, eh?" he
asked when he had finished.

"Oui, Injun go if Pete wants," he said without hesitation.

"I'd rather trust these byes ter you than ter iny man I know," Pete
said and the boys could see that the Indian was pleased at the
compliment although he tried not to show it.  "Your dogs in good
shape?" he asked.

"They all right."

"Good.  Then you be ready ter start Monday morning."

"Injun be ready."

"I'll bet he's a fine fellow," Jack declared as soon as the Indian
had left the store.

"Yer can tie ter him," Pete assured them.

"He inspires trust," Bob added.

"He sure deserves ut too."

"Well, Pete, we won't keep your trade away any longer," the captain
said as he got up from his chair.

"Thar's no need ter hurry," Pete told them.

"Come on board and take dinner with us tomorrow," the captain invited.

"What time?"

"We dine at one o'clock."

"Faith an' I'll be thar wid bells on.  Have ter close up store, but
thot don't matter iny."

"It is a bit cold," Jack said when they were half way back to the
ship.

They had stopped at the telegraph office long enough to permit the
boys to send a wire to their father telling of their safe arrival and
that they had secured a good guide.

"What a man that storekeeper is," Bob remarked as they walked along.

"I told you he was a character," the captain smiled.

"And that Indian," Jack added.  "He may be a Crow, but here's betting
that he's a man and a mighty good one."

"If Pete recommends a man you can bank on it that he's all right,"
the captain assured them.  "As I said awhile ago I remember hearing
Frank speak of him as one of the most trustworthy Indians he had ever
met."

"Then I reckon we'll be safe with him," Bob declared.

"As safe as you could be with anyone," the captain said soberly.




CHAPTER V.

OFF FOR THE NORTH.

Monday morning dawned bright and clear with the temperature fifteen
below zero.  Late Saturday night and nearly all day Sunday it had
snowed and nearly eighteen inches were added to the little which had
covered the ground when they had landed.  The intervening days had
been busy ones.  What with getting everything in readiness for the
start and spending as much time as was possible with Captain Blake,
who seemed loath to let them out of his sight, their time had been
fully occupied.  They had seen much of Pete Slinger and had come to
love the little Irishman.  And not only that, but their respect for
him grew by leaps and bounds as they had frequent exhibitions of his
wonderful ability along many lines.

"I wonder if there's anything he can't do," Jack said after he had
seen him put a barrel of flour on to his shoulder with apparent ease.

"I don't know what it is if there is," the captain told him.

Pete, on his side, fairly seemed to worship the boys and there was
nothing too much for him to do for them.

The ship was to sail at noon that day and Captain Blake had said the
night before that he was glad as the place would seem very lonesome
to him after they had gone.

It was only a few minutes after seven o'clock and still dark when
they reached the store.  As they approached they saw a long narrow
sled loaded nearly three feet high with all sorts of packages.
Hitched single file to it were six dogs who growled ominously as they
came up.

"Lucky's on time all right," the captain said as he mounted the steps.

"Those dogs don't seem very much pleased to see us," Jack declared as
he followed close at his heels.

"I guess they'll be all right when they get acquainted," Bob said.

"Here yees are," Pete greeted them as the captain pushed open the
door.  "I was jest tellin' Lucky thot he'd have ter go an' pull yees
out uv bed."

Everything was all ready for the start and the good byes were quickly
said.  Outside once more Lucky grasped one of the handles, which
stuck out breast high at the rear of the sled, with one hand while
with the other he swung the long raw hide whip which cracked with a
report like that of a forty-five.

"Mush," he ordered and the dogs started off up the street while the
boys fell in behind.

"Good bye an' good luck to yees," Pete shouted.

"God keep you," the captain called after them.

"Good bye, good bye," the boys called back.

Lucky Hogan had explained the night before that they were to cut
across country for a distance of some 250 miles where they would
strike the river at about the same distance from the coast.  As they
left the town the stars above were just beginning to pale while in
the east a faint glow told of the coming day.

"If I go too fast let me know heap soon," Lucky called back over his
shoulder.

"We will that," Jack assured him.

Although they had started fairly early several teams had left ahead
of them and the trail was in fairly good shape.  Nevertheless it was
hard traveling from the start.  The snow was light and dry and the
footing anything but secure, and inside of an hour they were both
puffing hard.

"That fellow must think we're used to this all right," Jack panted,
glancing back over his shoulder at Bob who was a few feet behind.

"Tell him he'll have to slow up a bit," Bob suggested.

The Indian stopped the team as soon as Jack called to him and waited
for them to catch up.

"We go too fast, eh?" he asked.

"Just a little," Jack told him.  "You see, we're a bit soft and it'll
take a few miles to get our muscles hardened up."

"Injun try remember, go slower," he promised.

"Hope he doesn't think we're lazy," Bob whispered as Lucky started up
the dogs again after allowing them to rest for a few minutes.

About nine o'clock the sun came up and it began to warm up a little
and soon the boys were forced to discard their heavy mackinaws.  The
country, through which they were passing, was hilly and Jack declared
that they were going either up hill or down all the time and he was
not far wrong.  About every hour the Indian stopped the team and
allowed the dogs to rest for some ten minutes and the boys were glad
of the breathing spells.

When noon came they halted at the foot of a long steep hill and ate
their lunch which Pete had provided, washing it down with hot coffee
from a thermos bottle.

"How far have we come?" Jack asked.

"'Bout twenty mile," the Indian told him.

"Gee, is that all?"

"No mak' fast time in deep snow."

"Well, we've been going fast enough to suit me," Bob laughed.

"Same here," Jack added.

The Indian, before eating, had fed the dogs, giving each a frozen
fish, and they were now lying in the snow.  Jack, as soon as he had
finished, went toward them thinking that it would be a good time to
get acquainted.  But an ominous growl caused him to stop and look
back inquiringly.

"Better wait," the Indian cautioned him and he came back.  "Them dog
heap bad when them no know you.  Them know you ver' soon then you
touch um," he explained.

"Would they bite me now?"

"Plenty apt bite now, not after while."

"Then I reckon I'll wait," Jack grinned as he sat down on the snow
beside the trail.  "But, I say, Lucky, they look like fine dogs."

"Them heap best dogs ever was," the Indian replied proudly.  "They
all one litter, oui.  Injun had der father an' mother, raise um."

"How old are they?" Bob asked.

"Two year come summer."

"They're little more that pups then?"

"But they ver' strong and heap fast."

"I'll bet they are," Jack agreed.

"That lead dog heem Lightning an' next Thunder," the Indian told them.

"Those are good names," Bob said.  "What do you call the others?"

"Next one Pete, den Kish, den Slack an' der sled dog heem Jim."

"Did you name that one after Pete Slinger?" Jack asked.

"Oui, heem bon friend to Injun an' Pete heem ver 'bon dog."

"But how about Slack?  Why do you call him that?" Bob asked.

"Heem lazy, heem strong like moose, but heem lik' hang back.  Call
heem Slack."

"What breed are they?"

"Mother was Esquimo dog, heap beeg girl an' father heem timber wolf."

"You mean they're half wolf?"

"Oui."

"But where did you get him?"

"Injun catch um when ver' leetle pup."

"But I always thought you couldn't tame a wolf," Jack broke in.

"No geet ver' fame, but heem know Injun, no other man touch heem,
jest Injun."

"Have you got them now?" Jack asked.

"No got.  Heem break chain one night, go off an' no come back.  Mebby
geet shot.  She geet seek ver' soon an' die, seex moons gone."

They had met no one all morning, but they were only about half way up
the hill when, almost without warning, a team swept around a bend in
the trail.  Coming down the hill they were traveling fast and, before
Lucky could get his team out of the way, the two leaders had met.
The boys were some thirty feet behind the sled and by the time they
reached the scene of action the air seemed, as Jack afterward
declared, full of dogs.  The yelps and growls of the combatants
drowned the voices of the Indian and the driver of the other team as
they shouted orders to which the dogs paid not the slightest
attention.  There were six dogs in the other team and, for a moment,
they seemed well matched so far as the boys could see, but soon even
they could tell that the strangers were getting far the worst of it.

"Our dogs'll kill them," Bob shouted.

But the fight was over almost as quickly as it had started.  The
stranger's dogs, evidently realizing that they were outclassed, soon
gave up the combat and shrank back whining piteously.  Lucky's dogs
did not press their advantage being apparently satisfied with the
result.  But the driver of the beaten team did not show as good
judgment.  He was a large burly man whose dark skin and high cheek
bones indicated that he was a half breed.  No sooner had the dogs
separated than, with a snarl of rage, he drew an ugly looking
revolver from his belt and aimed it at Lightning.

"Don't shoot him," Jack gasped.

Then an amazing thing took place.  Lucky was about twelve feet from
the breed when the latter drew his gun and, with a movement of his
arm incredibly swift, his whip lash darted out and the end wrapped
itself about the barrel of the revolver.  Another quick movement and
the gun was snatched from the man's hand and sent flying through the
air to fall in the snow twenty feet away.  The entire scene took
place so swiftly that it was all over before the boys realized what
had happened.

"Did you see that?" Bob gasped.

But before Jack could answer the breed had leaped for the Indian with
a hoarse cry of rage.  The boys held their breath wondering what was
coming next, but they did not have long to wait.  They had suspected
that the Indian was possessed of great strength, but what they saw
amazed them.  As the breed rushed toward him the Indian bent his body
slightly to meet the attack and the next instant they saw the
stranger lifted bodily and thrown several feet to fall sprawling in
the snow.

"How'd he do it?" Jack whispered.

"He did it all right," Bob replied.  "Wonder if he's had enough."

The breed was slowly picking himself up a look of blank amazement on
his face.  First he looked toward the boys and then turned to Lucky
who stood with a look of calm stoicism on his face.

"Better not," he said calmly as the breed took a step toward him.

There was something in the Indian's voice that gave the other pause
for he stopped and, for a moment stood as though undecided what to
do.  Then he turned and started toward where the revolver had fallen.

"Stop."

At the order the breed turned his head but kept on.

"Stop."

This time he halted and growled:

"I'm goin' ter geet my gun."

"Injun geet eet," and he sprang from the trail and a moment later
picked the revolver from where it had fallen in the snow.

Removing the cartridges he threw them away and then, stepping close
to the breed, handed him the gun.  For a second it seemed that the
breed was about to jump at the Indian's throat in spite of the lesson
he had already received, but he evidently thought better of it for he
snatched the gun from his hand and, thrusting it into his belt,
turned and went quickly back to where his dogs were lying in the
snow.  Lucky followed and at his command his dogs rose and soon, with
the help of the boys, the team was out of the trail enough to permit
the other team to pass.  Low rumbling growls came from the throats of
the dogs of both teams as they passed, but there was no move toward
another attack.

"Do you know that fellow?" Bob asked as soon as the stranger had
gotten out of hearing.

"Non, heem heap bad man."

"He's a heap disagreeable one," Jack added.

"But he tackled the wrong customer when he tackled you," Bob said
with an admiring glance at Lucky.  "That was the prettiest throw I
ever saw: wish you would teach me how to do it."

"Oui, Injun show white boy sometime."

Lucky examined the harness, but found it had not been injured during
the fight and, at his cry of "mush" the dogs were off again.

"My, what a man," Bob said in a low tone as he and Jack fell in
behind.

"And then some," Jack added.

"It seems queer," Bob continued.

"What seems queer?"

"Why, Lucky."

"But what do you mean queer?"

"Well, he looks like an Indian and he acts like an Indian and we have
it from no less authority than the great Pete Slinger that he is an
Indian, but he talks like a Canuck and has an Irish name.  Can you
beat it?"

"But he says heap once in a while and just a minute ago he referred
to you as a white boy.  That's Indian all right."

At last they reached the top of the long hill and the trail dipped
down on the other side in an almost endless reach.  It was four
o'clock when they reached the edge of a thick growth of trees and, as
it was nearly dark, Lucky proposed that they make camp for the night.
Both boys greeted the suggestion eagerly for, although they would
hesitate to acknowledge it, they were tired.  Beneath the broad
branches of a giant spruce, which stood just within the edge of the
forest, the ground was nearly bare of snow and Lucky choose it as a
good place.

"White boys cut plenty boughs while Indian unpack stuff," he
suggested as he pulled two small, but sharp axes from beneath the
canvas which covered the load.

By the time they had enough of the fragrant boughs cut to satisfy
him, the Indian had the dogs fed and fixed for the night, what they
needed unpacked and a fire started.

"Talk about efficiency," Jack declared as he brought in his third
armful of boughs.

"He's it," Bob laughed.

"Hope he's as good a cook as he is at other things," Jack whispered.

"It'll be funny if he isn't."

"You mean it'll be a tragedy."

But their fears were groundless for in less than an hour from the
time they had reached the woods the Indian announced that supper was
ready.  Venison steak and potatoes baked in the camp fire constituted
the main part of the meal and both boys declared that nothing had
ever fasted better.  The Indian seemed pleased at their words of
praise and urged them to eat until both declared that they could not
get another mouthful down.  They washed the dishes in melted snow
water which had been heating in a large iron kettle set in the hot
ashes.

It was now pitch dark and a light wind had sprung up during the last
half hour.

"You think it's going to storm?" Bob asked a little later as they sat
by the fire.

"Oui, Injun 'fraid so."

The wind had been increasing slowly, but steadily and now the moan of
the trees, as their tops swayed to and fro, filled the night.  For an
hour or more they sat by the fire while, at Bob's invitation, the
Indian entertained them with stories of his early life.  He was a
good story teller and they listened with bated breath as he told of
one adventure after another.

"Time to sleep now," he finally declared.

"I reckon," Bob agreed.

"You think it'll snow before morning?" Jack asked as he got to his
feet.

The Indian hesitated a moment.  "Wind getting round Nor East, mean
snow," he finally declared.

From the sled, which had been left beneath the branches of another
spruce near by, he brought three sleeping bags, huge canvas affairs,
lined with bear skins and fitted with a flap, which could be drawn
completely over the head, but which was equipped with air holes so
that the sleeper would be able to breath easily.

"We ought to sleep warm in those things," Jack declared.

"Oui, sleep heap warm," Lucky assured them.

How long he had been asleep Bob did not know but, sometime in the
night, he awakened with a sudden start.  For an instant he wondered
where he was and then, as memory returned, he wondered what had
disturbed him for he rarely woke up in the night unless there was a
cause.  But, after listening intently for a moment and hearing
nothing save the sighing of the trees and an occasional low growl
from one of the dogs, he decided that he had been mistaken and was
about to go to sleep again when, far off in the forest, he heard a
low but distinct howl.

"That sounds like a wolf," he thought.

And then, from a direction more to the right, came an answering howl
a little louder than the other.

He was lying close to Jack who was between him and the Indian and, as
the second howl rang through the forest, he felt his brother stir.

"Did you hear it?" He asked.

"Sure did."

"Sounded like a wolf."

"That's what I thought."

Then came the answer from the first wolf and now it was apparently
much nearer.  Low menacing growls from the dogs indicated that they
too had heard the ominous sounds.

"They're coming this way," Jack declared.

"Sounds like it."

"Think there's any danger?"

"Injun build up fire.  No come ver' near fire."

So Lucky also was awake.  Bob had thought it a bit strange that the
Indian had not been awakened as he knew that most forest bred men
were light sleepers.

"Can we help?" he asked as he heard him crawling out from his
sleeping bag.

"Non.  Plenty much wood.  Injun feex heem."

The fire, as Bob could see from where he lay, had not entirely died
out and, as Lucky had said, there was plenty of wood, and soon it was
blazing up brightly the fight casting weird shadows.

"Wolf no come near fire," the Indian told them as he crawled back
into his bag.

"What time is it?  Did you look?" Bob asked.

"Oui, three o'clock."

"Will that fire last till morning?"

"Injun keep heem feexed.  White boys go sleep," he assured them.

"Is it snowing?" Jack asked.

"Oui, heem snow leetle, not hard--yet."

As they could tell by the sound of the howls the wolves were coming
nearer and, in spite of the Indian's assurance, the boys were unable
to go to sleep again.

"That fellow wasn't far off," Jack whispered a few minutes later.

"Neither was that one," Bob replied.

"Hope they know that they're supposed to be afraid of fire."

"Same here."

The dogs were getting more and more uneasy as the wolves came closer
and soon the boys heard the Indian again moving.  He threw some more
wood on the fire and then, going to where the dogs were stationed, he
spoke to them in a low tone as if fearful that he would awaken the
boys.  At his words the dogs ceased their growls, but a low whining
told that they were not fully reassured.

"We're not asleep," Bob called out.

"How many of them are there should you say?" Jack asked as the Indian
came back beneath the tree.

"Mebby ten, mebby more."

Howl now answered howl in rapid succession as the wolves came nearer
and, a few minutes later Bob, who was sitting up, thought he could
see a shadowy form on the other side of the fire and some twenty feet
away from it.

"Look, Jack," he whispered.

"I can't see anything."

"Just the other side of that big tree."

"I see it now."

"Heem no come nearer," the Indian assured him.

"How about trying a shot at him?" Bob whispered.

But before he could get out of his bag at his automatic, which was in
his belt, the wolf had disappeared.

"He saved his hide," Jack said.

That the roaring fire had been too much for the wolves to face was
evident as their howls grew; fainter and fainter and finally died out
altogether.

"I'm mighty glad they were educated wolves," Jack sighed as he
snuggled down in his bag.

"What you mean, educated?" Bob asked him.

"Why, that they were brought up to be afraid of fire."




CHAPTER VI.

A NORTHERN BLIZZARD.

It was still dark when Bob awoke again, but the smell of frying
bacon, which came to his nostrils as he raised his head, told him
that it was morning and time to get up.  The wind was blowing hard as
he could tell by the sound of the tree tops and a fine snow was
drifting in even beneath the tree and he saw that both Jack and
himself were nearly buried in it.

"Time to get up," he said giving his brother a shake.

"Huh."

"I said it's time to get up," Bob repeated.

"Oh, all right," and in another minute Jack had wiggled out of his
bag.  "Gee, it's storming all right, isn't it?"

"I'll say it is.  Hear that wind."

"Heap beeg snow outside," Lucky declared as they came close to the
fire.

"It must be coming down pretty fast," Bob agreed as he noticed that
even in the thick woods several inches had fallen.

"Will it last all day?" Bob asked.

"Mebby."

"But we can keep on just the same?"

"Oui, in the woods heem not so bad."

"How long'll we be in the woods?" Jack asked.

"Fifty, seexty mile."

"Then we won't be out today, that's certain."

It was eight o'clock when they started and still dark.  The going was
much harder than the day before as the newly fallen snow made the
footing even more insecure.

"We'll be lucky if we make twenty miles today," Bob told Jack before
they had gone a mile.

Although the thick trees sheltered them to a large extent from the
fury of the storm, which had now nearly assumed the proportions of a
blizzard, yet the sharp particles of snow stung their faces like
needles whenever an open space allowed the wind to reach them with
anything like its full force.  The snow was also getting deeper and
deeper and for the last half mile the Indian had been breaking trail
ahead of the team.

"It must be fierce out in the open," Jack declared as they paused for
a rest shortly after nine o'clock.

"Heem heap bad," Lucky agreed.

"And it seems to be getting worse instead of better," Bob added as he
glanced up through an open space between the trees.

"It's sure howling some," Jack agreed.

"I think you better put on snow-shoe now," Lucky advised as they were
about to start off again.  "White boys know um?"

"You bet," Bob assured him.  "We were raised in Maine you know and,
believe me, they have some snow up there."

"But you can't break trail with snow-shoes on," Jack objected.

"Non, no can.  Injun no put um on."

"Then we're going to take turns at it," Bob declared.

"Injun break trail."

"Not now, he won't," Bob insisted shaking his head as Lucky held out
a pair of snow-shoes which he had taken from the pack on the sled.
"You put them on, I'm going to break trail for awhile."

"But Injun--"

"I know, you'd do all the work if we'd let you, but we're going to do
our share," Bob insisted.

Seeing that the boy was determined the Indian did not insist further,
but thrust his feet into the straps and motioned Bob to go ahead.
There was still enough of the trail left so that he had no trouble in
keeping the path, but it was filling rapidly and in places the snow
was already drifted even across it.  He had expected to find it hard
work, but it was harder than he had thought it would be.  But he was
strong and not afraid of hard work so he kept at it until Jack sang
out that it was his turn.

"It's getting pretty hard to see the trail and you'll have to be
careful," he advised as he slipped his feet into the shoes which Jack
had been wearing.

"Injun know heem get off trail," Lucky assured them.

Bob judged that they had been making about two miles an hour and the
Indian agreed with him when he mentioned it.

"And I reckon we'll go slower before we go faster," Jack said.  "Just
listen to that wind."

"Do you suppose those wolves are following us?" Bob asked the Indian
a few minutes later.

"Mebby."

"I thought I heard one howl just then, but perhaps it was only the
wind."

"Injun hear heem."

"Are they timber wolves?"

"Oui."

"Will they attack a man?"

"Mebby."

"But not likely?"

"Them geet a man alone them go for heem, not likely three mans."

Bob was not frightened, but he always liked to know just what he was
up against and he had read so many stories in which wolves, and
especially timber wolves, had attacked men that he was a bit worried.

"I suppose one could get up in a tree if they should attack us," he
suggested.

"Oui, but them no geet us," the Indian assured him.

At noon they halted in a sheltered place for dinner and several times
while eating they heard the howls of the wolves, but they were at
some distance and the Indian assured them that there was no danger.

During the afternoon the storm increased in violence but they kept
steadily on breaking trail by turns in short shifts.  The old tracks
had disappeared sometime ago and the Indian was obliged to
continually shout directions when either of the boys were in the
lead.  In spite of the fact that one or the other always went ahead
of the dogs it was hard work for them to drag the sled along and at
three o'clock Lucky decided that they had better call it a day.

"Them dog heem ver' tired," he said.

"And it's no wonder," Bob agreed.

"They got nothing on me at that," Jack declared.

Although still early in the afternoon dusk was already beginning to
creep over the forest and they knew that it would be dark in another
hour.

As on the previous day the boys cut boughs for the beds while the
Indian attended to the dogs and started the fire.

"We geet heap plenty wood," he told them as soon as they had brought
in enough boughs.  "Fire burn plenty fast in wind."

"You bet we want plenty," Jack agreed.

"Enough to entertain all comers," Bob added.

"We'll get it while you're getting supper," Jack told him and the
Indian nodded assent.

But it was not so easy to keep his promise as he had thought.  The
snow was now so deep that all the dead underbrush was buried out of
sight and the darkness was rapidly increasing.

"Looks kind of dubious," Jack said after they had been hunting for
several minutes.

"I'll say it does, but we've got to find some and that's all there is
to it," Bob replied.  "I don't want those wolves nibbling at my toes
tonight."

"I reckon they'd nibble more than your toes if they got that close,"
Jack declared.  "But here's what we want so I guess your tootsies are
safe."

He had found a dead tree almost ready to fall over and, as he spoke
he gave it a shove and down it came.

"If it hasn't all gone to punk," Bob said as he came up.

A quick examination proved that, although the tree had been dead for
some time, it was still fit for firewood and they set to work to cut
it up so that they could drag it to the camp some fifty feet away.

"Think this one'll be enough?" Jack asked as he started off with the
butt.

"I don't know, but we'd better get more if we can."

But by the time they had dragged the different parts of the tree up
to where Lucky had started a fire with some dead branches which he
had found close by, he told them that they had enough.

"You sure?" Bob asked anxiously.

"I think so but mebby you find one more."

"Come on, Jack," Bob said as he started back.  "I think I saw another
dead one close by that one."

It was now so dark that they could see but a few feet ahead of them
and they were obliged to be very careful with the axes to avoid an
accident, but they finally got the other tree cut up and dragged into
camp.

"Now I feel better," Bob declared.

"Supper heem ready," came the welcome announcement just as they were
putting away the axes.

All that night the storm raged.  Several times during the night they
heard the howls of wolves above the noise of the storm, but they did
not come very near thanks undoubtedly to the fire which the Indian
kept burning brightly all the time.  It was eight o'clock when Lucky
awoke them to find that the storm had nearly blown itself out and
that breakfast was ready.  Over a foot more of snow had fallen and
they knew that their progress would be slow that day.

"It's almost as bad as the case of the frog jumping out of the well,"
Jack declared as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"How was that?" Bob asked.

"Why, every time he jumped up two feet he fell back three."

"Well, we're more'n holding our own and that's better than he did."

Four more days passed and Saturday night came.  In spite of the deep
snow they had on the whole made fairly good time as their muscles
were hardening and they were able to maintain a faster pace.  There
had been no more snow and that which had fallen had drifted so hard
that in most places it held the sled and dogs though, of course,
Lucky and the boys were obliged to wear snow-shoes.  In view of the
fact that they were on a trip where time might mean a man's life they
had decided that they were justified in traveling on Sunday although
under other circumstances they would not have considered it.  The
weather had been cold, the thermometer rarely getting above ten below
zero and one morning it had sunk to thirty below.

Each night they had heard the howls of timber wolves and a number of
times they had caught sight of a slim gray form in the distance.  The
knowledge that the pack was still following them was far from
comforting but, being well armed with both rifles and revolvers, they
had no real fear.

Thursday morning Jack had shot a small buck deer and the meat was a
very welcome addition to their larder as they had brought with them
only enough fresh meat for a couple of days.  Their respect and
liking for the Indian increased every day for they found him not only
abounding in resourcefulness, but he had proved, as Jack put it, a
mighty likeable fellow.

"I always thought Indians were solemn and never laughed or anything
of that sort," he said to Bob one day as they were some distance
behind the sled, Lucky leading the way.

"They usually are more or less that way, but Lucky can laugh as well
as the next fellow."

"You bet he can.  Probably it's the way he's been brought up," Jack
suggested.

"We heet river one more day," Lucky told them that night as they were
washing up after supper.

"You mean we'll be there tomorrow night?" Bob asked.

"Heem 'bout forty mile," Lucky said.

"Then we'll make it sure," Jack declared.

Besides the Canuck they had encountered their first day out they had
seen but two men and these they had met the day after the storm.
They had seemed well disposed Canucks and, learning that they had
come from up the river, they had inquired if they had seen anything
of their uncle.  But neither of them had.

It was just as dusk was beginning to settle the next day that they
came in sight of the river.  For a couple of miles they had been
climbing a gentle slope, and, as they reached the top, they could see
two rivers about a mile away.

"Big one heem Yukon an' leetle one Kayakuk," Lucky told them pointing
with his hand.

"But how do we get down to it?" Bob asked.  "It looks as though it
went off almost perpendicularly here and it must be a drop of nearly
a hundred feet."

"Path down off jest leetle way.  Injun show you."

Bob was about to turn back when a startled cry from Jack, who had
been standing a few feet nearer the edge of the hill, made him look
around just in time to see his brother disappear over the edge
together with a vast smother of snow.  For an instant he was
petrified with fear.

"He--he's gone," he gasped.  Then, as reason returned, he shouted:

"Jack!  Jack!"

But there was no answer.  The Indian had said nothing, but Bob could
see that he was shaking as with the palsy.

"Where's that pass down?" he shouted.  "Maybe he's not dead."

The question seemed to galvanize the Indian to action and, leaving
the dogs, he led the way a little to the right where a more gentle
descent offered.

"White boy be careful," the Indian cautioned as Bob started down, but
he had no thought but to get to the bottom as quickly as possible.

It was very steep even here and several times he lost his footing and
fell, once turning over three or four times before recovering
himself.  Only one thought was in his mind--Jack was in danger,
perhaps dead.  It seemed to the frantic boy that ages passed before
he reached the bottom, but in reality it was only a few seconds.  The
last twenty feet or so was the steepest and, in his rush, he tripped
and rolled to the bottom.  But he was not hurt and, quickly picking
himself up, he started as fast as he could go for the place where
Jack had gone over.  A projection cut off his view until he was
within a few feet of the spot.

"O, God, don't let him be dead," he prayed as he hurried along.

With his heart in his mouth he rounded the turn and the next instant
a low cry of joy burst from his lips.  There, not twenty feet away
sat Jack rubbing his eyes as though he had just woke up.  At Bob's
cry he turned.

"Why didn't you come down by the short route?" he grinned.

"Thank God," Bob breathed as he hastened to Jack's side.  "Jack, boy,
I--I thought you were killed," he sobbed.

"Well, not so you'd notice it," Jack assured him.

"White boy sure no hurt?  Heap bad fall."

Lucky was standing just behind Bob a look of intense relief on his
face.

"Well, I haven't had time yet to take account of stock, but so far's
I know I'm all here."

"It's a miracle you weren't killed."

"Oh, I don't know.  You see, so much snow came down with me that I
lit as light as a feather." Jack grinned.

"Didn't you hear me yelling?" Bob asked.

"No.  You see I was about six feet more or less underneath when I
landed and about the time you were yelling I reckon I was pawing my
way surfaceward."

"Where are your snow-shoes?" Bob asked.

"Down below.  I'm afraid they didn't come through as well as I did."

"White boys stay here Injun git team, git shovel."  Lucky turned and
was gone before they had time to say anything.

"Believe me, he was one scared Indian when he saw you go over that
cliff.  Don't ever tell me that Indians have no feelings or that they
never show them.  If ever I saw fear and sorrow on a human face if
was then."

"I'd like to have seen him," Jack said as he got to his feet.

"Well, I never want to see it again," Bob assured him.

"And, of course I wouldn't want anything to happen to bring it there.
I didn't mean that.  Only I've always thought that Indians never did
show their feelings, you know."

It was nearly half an hour before Lucky came around the bend with the
team as he had to go some little distance before finding a place
where he could get the sled down safely.  Stopping the team he
quickly got a shovel from the stores and in a few minutes had
recovered the shoes.  As Jack had thought they had not come off as
well as he.  One of the frames was broken and several of the strips
of rawhide had snapped in the other.

"Not much bust," the Indian told them as he held them up.  "Injun got
one more pair an' heem feex dees in queek time tonight."

If was almost dark by the time the Indian had found the extra pair of
snow-shoes and they were ready to start once more.  About a mile up
the smaller river from where it emptied into the Yukon they had seen
a small piece of woods and the Indian told them that they would make
camp there for the night.

"Leetle town 'bout twenty mile up river," Lucky told them after they
had eaten supper and were sitting around the fire.

"What's its name?" Bob asked.

"Heem name Red Shirt."

"Red what?" Jack demanded.

"Heem Red Shirt."

"Some name."

"How big a town is it?" Bob asked.

"Not beeg.  You mean how leetle heem be, eh?"

"All right, how little is it?" Bob laughed.

"Heem seex mebby seven cabin.  Mebby twenty Injuns an' Canucks."

"Wonder if they have movies there?" Jack smiled.

"What heem?"

"Didn't you ever see moving pictures?"

"What heem?" the Indian asked again.

Jack described the moving picture as well as he was able, but it was
evident that the Indian did not get a very good idea of what he was
talking about.




CHAPTER VII.

A NEW KIND OF BED-ROOM.

It was shortly after noon the following day when they reached the
town of Red Shirt.  The half dozen or so log cabins were huddled
closely together at the foot of a fairly high mountain and the first
person they saw, a huge bulk of a man with a thick shaggy red beard,
wore a shirt of the brightest red.

"That must be the shirt," Jack whispered to Bob.

"It's red enough anyway," Bob whispered back.

The man was standing on the porch of the largest of the cabins which,
somewhat to the boy's surprise, proved to be a store well stocked
with goods.

"Howdy," he greeted them as they came to a stop an front of the store.

"How do you do," both boys answered his salutation while Lucky
grunted "how."

"Why, eets Lucky Hogan," the man said as he recognized the Indian
who's back had been turned until he spoke.

"Oui, it's me," he said holding out his hand which the other grasped.
"An' them boys dey Bob an' Jack Lakewood.  Heap fine boys."

"Ver' glad know yer," the big man smiled shaking hands with them in
turn.  "Come in where eet be warm."

A huge stove, its sides red hot, in the center of the room made the
heat seem almost stifling to the boys after the long continued cold
outside.

"Whar yer go, eh?"

They were hardly inside before the man asked the question.

"We hardly know," Bob told him.  "You see, we are looking for my
uncle who came up here ten or twelve weeks ago and has not been heard
from since.  We thought you might have seen him."

"Heem name Lakewood?"

"Yes, Silas Lakewood and he was with a man by the name of Long."

"Jeem Long?"

"I do not know his first name."

"That heem, Jeem," Lucky broke in.  "You know Jeem," he added turning
to the big man.

"Oui, I know heem," he replied in a tone which expressed dislike if
not hatred.

"Did you see them?" Bob asked a bit impatiently.

"Oui, I see 'em both."

"Do you remember how long ago it was?"

"Eet quite some long time, mebby tree month, mebby only two, I dunno."

"They stopped here?"

"Oui, two mebby tree day."

"And did they say where they were going?"

"Non.  They seem have beeg secret.  No tell whar dey go."

"But they went up river?"

"Oui."

"And you haven't seen or heard from them since?"

"Non.  No see, no hear."

"What do you know about this man, Long?" Bob asked after a moment's
silence.

"Heem no bon.  Heem one bad man."

"You mean he's a thief?"

"Mebby.  Heem bad man.  No bon."

Just then the door opened and a man entered.

"Thees Jere Laduc," the storekeeper introduced him.  "Heem jest come
from up river.  Mebby heem seen 'em."  Then turning to the new-comer
he asked: "Yer see Jeem Long up river, Jere?"

The Canuck, a small wiry looking man, with a smooth face, took off
his cap and scratched his head thoughtfully before answering.

"Oui," he said finally.  "I see Jeem Long."

"Was there another man with him?" Bob asked.

"Oui, beeg man."

"Do you know his name?"

Jere scratched his head again.

"I forget.  I hear heem, oui, but no remember."

"Was it Lakewood?"

"Dat eet, Lakewood."

"Where did you see them?"

"Eet was 'bout ten mile above Batzahakat."

"Is that a town?"

"Oui."

"How far from here?"

"Hunered mile."

"And how long ago was it that you saw them?"

The breed scratched his head a long time before answering.

"Eet must be two month," he finally concluded.

"You know him, this man, Long?"

"Oui, heem no bon."

There was no hesitation this time.

"Testimony seems to be unanimous on that point at any rate," Jack
whispered.

"Did he tell you where he was going?" was Bob's next question.

"Non, heem no say."

"Do you know if they went north?"

"Dunno.  Dey leave early in mornin'.  Me no see 'em go."

"I guess that's about all the information we'll get here," Bob
whispered to Jack.

"Looks that way," Jack agreed.

The storekeeper invited them to stay over a night in the settlement
but, after a brief conference, they decided that time was too
precious and that they would push on.  So, after thanking him and
purchasing a few things they needed, they said good bye and started
off up the river.  Altogether they had stopped an hour and, although
they had learned nothing which was very definite except that their
uncle had really been there, somehow the boys felt slightly
encouraged.

"Evidently that man Long's a bad egg," Jack said as they trudged out
of the village.

"Everyone seems to think so," Bob agreed.

"The inhabitants of this burg seem to keep pretty close indoors,"
Jack remarked just as they struck the river.

"Them eat dinner now," Lucky told him.

On the river the traveling was good and they made twenty-five miles
before camping for the night.

"River tak' heap beeg bend leetle way above here an', in the mornin'
we go east, cut off mebby twenty mile," the Indian told them.

For the past three days they had heard nothing from the wolves and
both boys hoped that they had given up following them.  Lucky
shrugged his shoulders when Bob mentioned it as if to say that it did
not matter to him one way or the other.

"Any fish in this river, Lucky," Jack asked as soon as they had cut
the wood for the night.

"Oui, heap beeg salmon.  Some trout."

"Suppose I could catch one through the ice?"

"Dunno, mebby."

"Well, I've got a hook and line and I'm going to make a stab at it.
Fresh fish won't go bad."

They were camping in a clump of woods just a few yards from the river
and, taking one of the axes, Jack was soon cutting a hole in the ice.
This took longer than he had thought for the ice was nearly eighteen
inches thick and it was pretty dark by the time he was ready to drop
in his hook which he had baited with a piece of pork.

"Hope they like pork," he said to himself as he dropped in the hook.

His hope was quickly realized for before the bait had sunk more than
five or six feet he felt a strong yank and pulled in a trout nearly
fifteen inches long.  Quickly he rebaited the hook and dropped it
back through the hole.  This time he had to wait a little longer, but
inside of twenty minutes he had landed three more trout and two
salmon of about five pounds weight each.

"Not bad for the first time," he chuckled as he strung them together
on a bit of line which he found in his pocket.

"Yer catch um feesh?" Lucky asked as he came whistling up in the
gathering darkness.

"What did I go after?" he asked.

"Feesh."

"Well, when I go after fish, fish is what I bring back.  Ask Bob if
you don't believe it."  And he held up the string in the light of the
fire.

"Yer catch um," Lucky declared.

"He always does," Bob assured him.  "That boy could catch fish in a
water bucket."

Soon the two salmon were sizzling in the frying pan and they proved a
very welcome addition to their fare.

The next morning they were up early and just as day was breaking,
they left the river and struck off due east.  The sun came up thickly
overcast and Lucky gave it as his opinion that it would snow before
noon.

"You're a good weather prophet, Lucky," Jack said when, a little
after ten o'clock, the first flakes began to fall.

There was no wind and the snowflakes at first drifted lazily to the
earth as if in no hurry to get there.  Soon they were coming in
greater abundance and, although there was still no wind, the boys
noticed that the Indian was casting an anxious eye toward the sky.

"You think it's going to be a bad storm?" Jack asked him.

"No wind all right.  Wind heem begin blow be heap bad.  No woods for
many mile."

"Well, the snow has held off for a good while for this time of year
so I suppose we ought not to kick if we do get it now," Bob said
philosophically.

"I reckon it's going to blow some at least," Jack said an hour later
as he felt a slight breeze fan his face.  "Those flakes aren't coming
down straight any more."

It was snowing hard and there was a fairly strong breeze when they
stopped for dinner at twelve o'clock although it was not yet strong
enough to cause the snow to sting.

"About how far from here is there a piece of timber," Bob asked as
they were getting ready to start off again.

"Mebby twenty mile, mebby leetle more."

Enough snow had already fallen to make it hard going and within an
hour they were taking turns breaking trail for the dogs.  The wind
was steadily increasing in force and the snow showed no sign of
abatement.

"We'll never make that woods tonight at the rate we're going," Jack
declared.

"Non, we no mak' heem.  We look for bon place mak' camp.  Heem goin'
blow heap hard soon."

Lucky was right again for they had not been traveling an hour before
the wind had risen to the force of a gale and was driving the sharp
particles of snow against their faces with stinging violence.

"Whew, but this is work," Jack panted as he came back from breaking
trail to allow Lucky to take his turn.

"I'll say you're right," Bob agreed.

It was impossible to see more than a few feet ahead and it was a
mystery to the boys how the Indian could keep a straight course
especially as the wind seemed to change its direction frequently.
But he seemed sure of his way and the boys had no reason to doubt his
judgment.

By half past two the dogs began to show signs of distress and the
Indian gave it as his opinion that they had better stop.

"No must keel um dog," he declared.

"I'll say we mustn't, but how are we going to camp here in the open?"
Bob asked.

"Injun show white boys."

All day they had been traveling over a flat country and there was not
even a hill to give them the slightest protection.  Still they felt
sure that Lucky knew best and if he said camp why, camp it was.

"We mak' um house," he said as he pulled the shovels from the sled.
"We sleep all right, but have eat cold supper, no got wood."

The prospect was anything but pleasant, but the boys were not unused
to hardships and there was no grumbling as they set to work digging a
hole in the snow under directions from the Indian.

"Mak' heem 'bout eight feet long an' seex wide," he told them, as he
turned to care for the dogs.

There was now about four feet of snow on the level, and, as the old
snow was packed down very hard, it took them some little time to
complete the task.

"Reckon it'll drift in about as fast as we can shovel it out," Jack
grumbled as he threw out the last few; shovelfuls of snow.

"Then we can have the pleasure of shoveling it out again," Bob
laughed.

"I believe you'd laugh if you were going to be hanged."

"Not quite that bad, but might as well laugh as cry, you know."

Thanks to Lucky's thoughtfulness in bringing along a small alcohol
stove they were able to make coffee which made the supper seem a
little more cheerful.

"What about the dogs?" Bob asked.

"Dog all right.  No mind snow if not too tired," the Indian assured
them.

It was only a little after four o'clock when they finished supper,
but it was already dark.  Not that it made so much difference, as
Jack declared, seeing that the snow was coming down so fast that they
could only see a short distance anyhow.

"You shovel um out again and we feex roof," Lucky said as soon as the
meal was finished.

"What you going to make a roof out of?" Jack asked.

"I show white boy.  You geet snow out."

The snow was already several inches deep in the dugout, as Jack
called it, but they made short work of it and finished just as the
Indian dragged up a piece of canvas about twelve feet long and eight
wide.

"I see what our roof's to be now," Jack laughed.

When spread over the dugout the canvas overlapped about three feet on
each side and on it they shoveled snow, stamping it down good and
hard with their feet.

"Now heem hold some snow," the Indian declared when they had two feet
or more of hard packed snow on either end.

"But it won't hold up all night if it keeps up like this," Bob said
doubtfully.

"We clean heem off one two time, mebby."

"Mebby is right," Bob laughed.

It was very cold, but after they had crawled info the dugout and into
their sleeping bags they were plenty warm.

"If we only could have gotten some boughs," Jack complained.  "This
ground was laid hard side up."

"You ought to be thankful that you've got any ground to lie on," Bob
told him.

"Is that intended for a joke?"

"No.  Why?"

"I thought there was no ground for it."

"Smarty."

"Well, don't blame me.  I was born that way, you know."

"Just hear that wind," Bob said a few minutes later.  "I can't help
feeling sorry for the poor dogs outside."

"Them dog all huddle up together.  Keep um all warm," Lucky assured
them.

"But they'll be buried before morning," Jack objected.

"Sure, snow heap warm.  No mind that."

"Well, I'm glad to know that they won't suffer.  It's snug as a bug
in a rug in here," Jack declared.

"How about a story, Lucky?" Bob asked.

For more than two hours, while the storm howled and blew outside, the
Indian entertained them with wonderful stories of the North Land.  He
was a splendid story teller in spite of his broken English and they
could hardly believe it when he announced that it was nearly eight
o'clock and time they were asleep.

"Injun shovel off snow an' den we go sleep," he said as he wiggled
out of his bag.

"Is it snowing as hard as ever?" Bob asked when he slid back into the
dugout.

"Heem come down heap hard."

"Guess we'll have to hole up here for the rest of the winter," Jack
said.

"Not so bad if we could sleep all the time," Bob laughed.

In spite of the hard ground they were soon fast asleep.  Bob awoke
some hours later and felt the Indian moving at his side.

"Anything wrong?" he whispered

"Injun shovel off snow one time more.  Roof heem sag some," Lucky
whispered back.

Reaching up with his hand Bob could tell that the roof was indeed
sagging.

"Let me go this time," he said.

"Non, Injun no mind eet."

Bob was asleep when the Indian returned and did not hear him.  Some
time later he dreamed that he was lying at the foot of a high
precipice.  Overhead, jutting out from the top of the cliff, hung a
volume of snow which he knew was about to fall on him.  And yet he
was unable to move try as he might.  He could see the immense mass,
slowly slipping at first, and then gathering speed as it approached.
He wondered why it did not fall more rapidly.  It seemed to take a
fearful long time getting down, but, finally it was just above his
head and he closed his eyes as he realized that he would be buried in
another instant.  Then it struck.

"What the Sam Hill!" he heard some one say in tones which sounded far
off.

"Roof heem fall in," another voice answered.

Realizing at last that he was awake and that his dream had, in a
measure, come true almost before it was over, he began to paw his way
out.  But the others were also pawing and soon they were all tangled
up in a mass of canvas and snow.

"Wait till I get my bearings, you fellows," he shouted.

"Get 'em quick then or I'll suffocate," Jack gasped.

After what seemed an interminable time, and during which Jack urged
him to hurry, he succeeded in getting hold of an edge of the canvas
and crawling out from beneath it Then he quickly pulled it from off
the others and soon they were all standing up.  It was still snowing
hard and the wind seemed to be blowing hard as ever.

"Some spill, that," Jack declared.

"Spill is right," Bob agreed.

"Heap lot snow," Lucky added.

"Well, what'll we do?" Jack asked after a moment's pause.

"What time is it?" Bob asked.

"Half past five."

"Better dig out and fix the roof again, hadn't we?" Bob proposed.

"What do you say, Lucky?"

"Oui, better do."

It was very dark, but they had flashlights with them and by their aid
they quickly located the shovels in one corner of the dugout and the
two boys fell to work while the Indian busied himself getting the
strip of canvas straightened out.

It took the better part of an hour to get their home cleaned out and
the roof on again, but it was finally accomplished and they were once
more, as Jack put it, stowed away again.  None of them were inclined
to sleep so they fell to discussing the situation.

"Will it pay to start out while it's storming?" Bob asked.

"Non.  Eet too hard on dog," the Indian told them.

"To say nothing of the effect on us," Jack chuckled.

"But we can't stay here forever," Bob objected.

"Wind, heem changing.  Snow stop leetle while."

"Hope you're right," Jack said.

"Which he usually is," Bob put in.

And this time was no exception to the rule for, shortly before seven
o'clock, the Indian, after sticking his head out, declared that it
was only snowing a "leetle" and that the wind was dying down.

"We geet hot coffee an' a bite an' den we start, eh?"

"So say we all of us," Jack sang.

Their progress that day was distressingly slow to the boys who were
ever fearful that, if they found their uncle at all, it would be too
late.  But they were obliged to consider the dogs.  They were willing
to do all that could be asked of them, but there was a limit to their
endurance and dragging the heavily loaded sled through the deep snow
was no easy task.  Still, as Jack put it, they were more than holding
their own and, about four o'clock they came to woods and here they
decided to make camp, cheered by Lucky's assurance that they would
reach the town the next day.

They had brought the rest of the fish Jack had caught, with them and
how good a hot meal did taste.

"I tell you, you never appreciate a thing till you have to do without
it," Bob declared as he readied for his third helping.




CHAPTER VIII.

TIMBER WOLVES.

The town of Batzahakat is very much like Red Shirt.  A few log
cabins, one of which serves as a store, huddled together on the bank
of the river.  It was growing dark when two very tired boys and six
nearly played out dogs and an Indian, who acknowledged that he had
been more rested, dragged themselves up the bank and made their way
along the single short street to the store.

"Do you know the man who keeps the store?" Bob had asked the Indian
earlier in the day.

"Oui, Injun know heem.  Heem name Jules Lamont.  Heem Frenchman, no
breed," Lucky told them.

"Is he all right?" Bob had asked.

"Oui, heem bon man," Lucky had assured them.

And now they soon found that he was again right for, as soon as they
had entered the store, Jules Lamont gave them a hearty welcome and
assured them that he had plenty of room for them in his cabin just
out behind.

Jules Lamont had a wife who was fully as kind in her welcome as was
he and she was a splendid cook as they soon learned.

"Gee, but it seems kind of good to get into a bed once more," Jack
said when, soon after supper, their host had shown them to a well
furnished room above the living room.  There were two beds in the
room and Lucky occupied the other.

Yes, he remembered Silas Lakewood very well and the man Long as well,
he told them the next morning when, while eating breakfast, they told
him of their errand.

"They stay here three four days," he told them in almost perfect
English.

"Did they say where they were going?" Bob asked.

"They say they go up river, but not how far."

"And you haven't seen them since?"

"Not since."

"Do you remember just how long ago it was they were here?" was Bob's
next question.

"Pretty hard say.  Time goes ver' slow up here an' I forget.  Mebby
seven weeks, mebby eight or nine, but no more than nine sure."

"Do you know Long?" Jack asked.

"Oui, I know him long time."

"What kind of a man is he?"

"Not good.  I not trust him."

"He's sure got a bad reputation," Jack said.  "We haven't heard a
single good word about him yet."

"After breakfast over we go see some other men an' ask them what they
know," Jules told them.

He had urged them the night before to stay over a day and they had
agreed after Lucky had assured them that a day's rest would be of
great benefit to the dogs and that they would more than make up for
the lost time.

"One day geeve snow time to settle an' mak' more bon goin'," he
assured them.

By noon they had interviewed probably nearly everyone in the village,
Jules going with them and introducing them.  They found the people
universally courteous and eager to be of service, but they learned no
more than they already knew.  It was evident that neither their uncle
or Long had confided in anyone, keeping their destination a secret.

The next morning they got an early start.  Although it would be
several hours before the sun would make its appearance, it was not
dark as the moon was full.  The dogs had indeed profited by their
day's rest and had fully recovered their eagerness or pep as Jack put
it.  It was twenty-five degrees below zero when they drove off after
thanking their host and hostess for their kindness.

"We ver' glad to have you an' hope you find your uncle all right an'
hope you stop longer time on way back," Jules Lamont told them as he
shook hands.

"We'd sure like to and will if we can," they assured him.

"He's a mighty fine man," Bob said as soon as they were out of the
village.

"And his wife's a queen if there ever was one," Jack added.

"If you've got any more friends like them up this way just lead us to
them," Bob told Lucky.

"Jules, heem best, but they some others," Lucky said.

Their way now lay straight up the river and, as the snow had settled,
they were able to make better time especially as they found that two
or more teams had been ahead of them and broken a fairly good trail.

They had been traveling for about three hours and the sun was just
beginning to show itself when Jack, who was walking slightly ahead of
the Indian, turned to ask him a question.  Instead of answering him,
to his surprise Lucky grabbed up a handful of snow and the next
instant he was vigorously rubbing Jack's nose with it.

"Hey, there, what's the b-b-big idea?" he sputtered.

"White boy hold still."

"Like f-f-fun I w-w-will.  I-I-I want t-to know--"

"Don't get excited, Jack," Bob laughed.

"But--"

"Your nose was freezing."

"Freezing nothing.  I didn't feel a thing," Jack retorted.

"And that's just what the trouble was.  But I reckon you can feel it
now."

"I'll say I can.  It hurts."

"That's the frost coming out of it.  It'll be all right after a bit,"
Bob assured him.

"Jack have heap bad nose, Injun no rub heem," Lucky explained.

"And I'm much obliged," Jack grinned realizing now that the Indian
had indeed done him a good turn.

They were two days making the next town about eighty miles farther
north.  This was Arctic City, so called because of being situated
exactly on the Arctic Circle.  The weather had held clear and cold
and they had made good time and were in good spirits as they entered
the town about three o'clock.  Although only the middle of the
afternoon it was dark enough for lights in the cabins.  Indeed there
was only about five hours a day during which the sun was above the
horizon.

Arctic City much resembled the other towns through which they had
passed and they found the people much the same type.  They were
kindly received and secured a comfortable room for the night.  During
the evening they interviewed several of the men of the place most of
whom were known to the Indian.  But it was just as they were about to
start off the next morning that they received their first real clue.

The dogs were harnessed and Lucky had already given the order to
"Mush" when a very small man dressed in a heavy bearskin coat shouted
to them to wait a minute.

"Wonder what he wants," Bob said as Lucky ordered the dogs to stop.

"Reckon we'll know in a minute," Jack told him.

"Yer lookin' fer two mans, eh?" the little man asked as he came
puffing up.

"Yes," Bob told him.  "Can you give us any information regarding
them?"

"Mebby.  What der name?"

"Silas Lakewood is one and the other is a man named Long."

"Oui, I see 'em."

"When?" Bob asked the question with much eagerness in his voice.

"'Bout seex week ago."

"And where did you see them?"

"Een Mountain nor' of Beaver."

"Where is Beaver?" Jack broke in.

"'Bout feefty mile nor' here."

"And how far from Beaver are the mountains?"

"'Bout same."

"Please tell us what you knew."

"Oui.  'Bout seex week ago me go up dar hunt bear.  No find heem an'
stay long time, ten day, mebby two week.  Go round ver' mooch.  One
day I see leetle cabin an' smoke come out heem.  I been dar before
an' never see cabin so I know heem new.  I go up an' go to knock on
door when I hear mad man talk.  I leesten an' hear heem say 'you sign
dat paper or you no go away from here.  I leesten an' hear nodder man
say, 'I no sign heem'.  Den odder man heem sware ver' mooch an' I
come away.  I think eet not my beeseness an' I stay mebby I geet
hurt."

"But what makes you think they were the men we are after?" Bob asked
when he had finished.

"I hear one man call odder dat name, Lakewood," the man told them.

"Then I reckon they were the men all right," Bob said turning to Jack
and Lucky.

"No doubt about it," Jack agreed while the Indian nodded his head.

"And do you think they are still there?" Bob asked.

"I dunno 'bout that.  I come away: no see 'em any more."

"Do you know where that place is?" Bob asked turning to Lucky.

"Oui, I been there."

"And you think you can find that cabin?"

Instead of replying the Indian turned to the small man and asked:
"You tell me where heem be, eh?"

"Dar two beeg mountain up dar.  You know heem?"

"Oui."

"Cabin right 'tween 'em 'bout half way een."

"Bon.  I find heem."

Bob pulled a five dollar bill from his pocket and offered it to the
man, but he shook his head.

"Please take it," Bob urged.  "Your information is worth a lot to us
and I want to make you a little present.  Just take it and buy
yourself something."

After a little hesitation the man accepted the bill thanking Bob with
a great display of feeling.

"Well, it looks as though we had something definite to go on now,"
Jack declared as soon as they were once more on the river.

"Do you know that man?" Bob asked the Indian.

"Non."

"You never saw him before?"

"Non."

"Then we don't know whether he was telling the truth or not."

"But why would he lie to us?" Jack asked.

"I don't know unless it was to get some money."

"But he didn't want to take it."

"He didn't seem to you mean."

"Well, maybe, but he looked honest to me."

"And he did to me too.  What do you think, Lucky?"

"I think heem straight."

"Then I reckon it's all right.  We'll take it for granted anyhow
until we find out to the contrary."

Greatly to their disappointment they got no more information in the
little village of Beaver which they reached late that night.  No one
seemed to have seen the men although they found several who said that
they knew Long, but none of them had seen him for more than a year.

"Looks as though they had given this burg the go-by," Jack said when
they were in the little room which they had secured for the night.

"It does look that way," Bob agreed.  "I wonder why?"

"Probably too near the scene of their operations."

"Maybe."

"But the farther north we go the worse that man Long's reputation
seems to get."

"He must be a bad egg for a fact.  He's certainly not popular."

They camped the next night at the beginning of the pass which led
between the two mountains which reared their snowy summits far up
toward the sky.

"Cabin not more'n 'bout two mebby three mile from here," Lucky told
them as he halted the team.  It was only two o'clock, the place not
being so far from the town as they had thought from what the little
Frenchman had told them.  Lucky had told them when starting out that
morning that he thought the man was mistaken as to the distance but,
as he had not been there for a number of years, he was not sure.

They had found a splendid place for a camp.  Beneath an overhanging
rock, the ground was almost free from snow as a circle of thick
spruce trees in front and about twenty feet away had protected it on
the open side.  Here they made beds of thick spruce boughs and a
roaring fire soon warmed the face of the rock by its reflection so
that it seemed impossible that the temperature outside was nearly
forty below.  Before leaving the river early the preceding day, they
had stopped long enough to cut a hole in the ice and allow Jack to
catch a dozen large trout and five or six salmon, enough, as Bob
said, to last them a couple of weeks.

After supper was over they sat for some time in front of the fire and
discussed plans for the morrow.

"We got be ver' careful," Lucky told them.  "Dat man, Long, heem bad
man an' heem get mad he shoot, oui."

"But we'll be three against one, not counting Uncle Silas," Jack
reminded him.

"But heem got gun an' bullet go ver' fast."

"Lucky's right, Jack," Bob declared.  "We must play it safe.  Of
course there may not be any trouble and everything may be all right
and I sure hope it is but if he's keeping Uncle up here against his
will, the way it looks, he's probably playing for big stakes."

"But why should he want to keep him up here?"

"That's what we've got to find out.  According to what that man said
he was trying to get him to sign some paper.  Now, if that's right,
my guess is that they've found gold and he was trying to get him to
sign away his rights to it.  Of course, that's only a guess."

"Heem ver' bon guess," Lucky added.

"Couldn't make a better myself," Jack assured him.

"Then I'm flattered," Bob smiled.

"Then what do you think we'd better do?" Jack asked, turning to the
Indian.

"I tink you better stay here an' Injun go up see what doin'."

"Don't you think it would be better for me to go?" Bob asked.

"White boy no know way," Lucky objected.

"But I couldn't help finding it if it's between these mountains.  You
see, it's this way.  That man Long knows you and if he should see you
he'd smell a mouse, but he's never seen me."

Although the Indian saw the force of the argument and made many
objections to the plan he finally gave in and it was settled that as
soon as it was light enough to see Bob should start to spy out the
land.

That night, for the first time in several days, they heard wolves,
but they were far off and Lucky did not think that they had scented
them.

"White boy be heap careful," was Lucky's parting word the next
morning, as Bob started off just as it was beginning to get light.
It was nearly ten o'clock and he had waited impatiently several hours
for the time to start.  Besides his automatic he took with him a 38
Remington with which he was an expert shot.  It was his favorite
rifle and he was very choice with it.  More than one buck had fallen
before it in the woods of Maine and once it had brought down a large
moose.  With it he felt safe.

Although he could hardly believe it the thermometer said forty below
when he left the camp, but so clear and dry was the air that it
hardly seemed cold at all.

The passage between the mountains was very narrow, in fact, there was
hardly any level ground between them, one seeming to rise at the foot
of the other, so he had little fear of missing the cabin provided it
was really there.  The dry snow creaked pleasantly beneath his
snow-shoes as he strode along humming a favorite song.  Tall trees
grew so closely together that he was unable to keep to anything like
a straight course, but this gave him no worry.  He had the day before
him and there was no hurry.

He had gone perhaps three quarters of a mile when he was brought up
short by a long drawn out howl, seemingly not very far away.

"That was a timber wolf," he thought as he peered anxiously through
the trees.

The howl was answered almost immediately from the side of the other
mountain and, for a moment, he wondered if he would not be wise to
turn back.

"I don't belive ther's more than two of them," he thought as he
listened.

But even as the thought passed through his mind a third howl broke
the stillness and this one was surely behind him.

"Seem to have me surrounded," he muttered, as he started on again.

Whether there were more than three of the wolves he was unable to
tell, but that they were coming nearer there was no doubt.  Soon,
peering through an opening in the trees, he caught sight of a
skulking gray shape just as it raised its head and sent its mournful
howl through the forest.  But that howl was its last for, before it
was finished, he had raised his rifle and sent a bullet crashing
through its head.  The wolf dropped in its tracks, gave a convulsive
kick or two and was still.

"One less anyhow," Bob muttered as he ran forward to where the wolf
was stretched.

About ten yards from where he was standing was a large tree with low
branches and, as another howl rang out not hundred yards away, he ran
toward it resolved to make a stand there knowing that wolves could
not climb a tree and that, if worst came to worst, he could find
temporary safety at least in its branches.

By this time he knew that there were more than three of the beasts
and, by the sounds he judged that there must be nearly a dozen.  Soon
he caught sight of another gray form and, quickly raising his rifle,
fired his second shot.  The wolf fell but, almost before he was
stretched on the snow, from all sides, gray shapes sprang upon him
and in an incredibly short time the dead wolf was torn in pieces and
devoured.  A moment later and the first one killed was discovered and
had shared a like fate.  And still the ravenous beasts were not
satisfied and in less than ten minutes from the time he had fired the
second shot the pack was gathered in a semi-circle about twenty-five
feet away, snapping and snarling and gradually closing in.  He had
not fired again hoping that they would be satisfied with the feast
already provided and go away.  But their appetite seemed only to be
whetted and he fired again.

"Here's where little Bobby seeks safer quarters while they're busy,"
he muttered as he swung himself up onto the lowest branch of the
tree.  "I imagine Jack and Lucky'll hear the rumpus and come to my
rescue," he thought.  "Anyhow I'm safe enough and can pick them off
at my leisure, if they choose to stay around."

The third wolf was quickly dispatched and the pack, about fifteen in
number were soon gathered beneath the tree voicing their
disappointment in mournful howls.  Taking careful aim at the largest
beast he pulled the trigger but, to his surprise, only a slight click
resulted.  Thinking there might be a defective cartridge in the rifle
he pulled back the ejector.  But to his dismay it stuck when half way
back.

"Now I am in a fix," he said half aloud.  "Mighty funny the thing had
to stick at just this time especially when it's never done it before."

All this time he had been working feverishly in an effort to remove
the cartridge, but he soon found that, without the aid of a
screwdriver, it could not be done.

Then the thought that he had his automatic came to him and he took
new heart.  But his joy was short lived for the revolver was gone.
He couldn't understand it, he told himself over and over again.  He
distinctly remembered shoving it into place in his belt just before
starting.  Then he remembered that, a short time before he heard the
first wolf, he had tripped and fallen headlong.

"It must have dropped out when I fell," he told himself.  "Wouldn't I
have been in a nice fix if there had been no trees anywhere around?"
And he shuddered as he looked down at the hungry beasts only a few
feet beneath him.

He knew that he was safe so far as the wolves were concerned, but the
intense cold was beginning to work through his clothing.  Hustling
along on snow-shoes at forty below zero was one thing, but roosting
up in the branches of a tree at the same temperature was quite
another, he told himself.  He wondered why Jack and Lucky had not put
in an appearance and then, for the first time he noticed that a
strong wind was blowing and that it was coming from the direction of
the camp.

"Perhaps that wind's so strong that they haven't heard the wolves or
the shots," he thought.

It seemed that his last thought must be correct for a full hour
passed and there was no sign of his friends.  He knew it would be of
no use to shout for if they had not heard the wolves and his shots it
was dead certain that they would not hear him.  If they had heard
anything to give them the idea that he might be in trouble they would
have had no trouble in following his tracks as they were the only
ones visible.  Hence, he reasoned, they had heard nothing.  He did
not know whether it was growing colder or not, but he was quite sure
that he was, and, having a firm seat in a crotch, he spent much of
the time beating his body with his arms in an effort to keep out as
much of the cold as possible.

The wolves showed no signs of giving up.  To be sure they were no
longer leaping and howling, but had assumed an attitude of what he
called watchful waiting.  It was, he knew, only a question of being
able to stand the cold long enough.  Jack and Lucky would be after
him when he did not return soon after they would expect him.

Another hour passed and he began, for the first time, to be really
frightened.  For a long time he had been shaking with the cold, but
now he did not feel nearly so cold and a peculiar drowsiness was
stealing over him, an almost overwhelming desire to sleep.  He knew
what that meant and, with all the force of his will, he fought
against it.  For awhile he kept changing his position, but now he
feared to move for fear he would fall.  So he wedged himself in a
crotch between the trunk and a large limb in such a way that in case
he lost consciousness his body would be held.

"God grant that they may come in time," was his last conscious
thought and then he drifted off into nothingness.




CHAPTER IX.

THE RESCUE.

"Isn't it about time Bob was getting back?"

Jack looked at his watch as he asked the question.

"What time heem be?" Lucky asked

"Quarter past one."

"Oui, heem ought be here ver' soon."

"You don't suppose anything has happened to him?" Jack asked
anxiously.

"Non, but wind heem change.  We goin' have snow."

"Well I wish he'd come.  Somehow I feel uneasy."

"Heem come soon."

For another half hour they waited, Jack getting more and more uneasy.

"Hark!"

"That wolf."

"And it came from up that way."  Jack indicated the direction which
Bob had taken.

"Geet gun, we go queek."

Throwing some wood on the fire so that it would last until they
should return they quickly tied on their snow-shoes and, taking their
rifles, were off at the fastest pace they could muster.

"You think the wolves are after him?" Jack asked as they hurried
along.

"Mebby.  But heem climb tree."

"But he'd have shot and we didn't hear any shots."

"Wind, heem wrong."

They had gone but a short distance when Jack's quick eye caught sight
of something lying nearly concealed in the snow.  Stooping he picked
up Bob's automatic.

"It's Bob's," he gasped holding it out so that the Indian could see
it.

"Oui, heem Bob's."

"But how did it come here?"

"See, heem fall here.  Mebby gun heem fall out."

"But I don't see how it could have," Jack objected.

"Heem fall here," Lucky insisted.

"Sure he did, but I don't see how he could have lost this gun.  But
it won't do any good to stand here talking about it."

They had heard the mournful howl of the wolves several times since
they started, and Jack grew more and more alarmed as they advanced
and he could see that the Indian was not entirely easy in his mind
although he was doing his best to conceal it.

"We ver' near where wolf be," Lucky declared as a long drawn out howl
came from only a short distance ahead.

"Sounds that way," Jack agreed.

"Have gun ready."

"You bet."

They hurried along for a few minutes and then Lucky, who was a few
feet ahead of Jack, suddenly stopped and raised his rifle.  Instantly
a shot rang through the woods followed by a loud yelp of pain.  Jack
hurried to his side and from there could see the pack as they
gathered about the foot of the tree.  But at that moment they were
engaged in a mad fight to see which should get the choicer portions
of their fallen comrade.

"Let heem have eet," Lucky shouted, and Jack began pumping lead into
the pack as rapidly as he could work the ejector.

Wild yelps of pain mingled with the fierce growls of combat filled
the air.  Then, just as Jack had emptied the magazine of his rifle,
one of the wolves saw them and with a sharp bark of anger left the
pack and sprang toward them.  Jack saw that the wolf would be upon
them before he could get his rifle loaded and cast a quick glance at
the Indian.  But he too had exhausted his magazine and was hurriedly
loading.  The wolf was now only a few feet away and behind him were
several others and he knew there was not an instant to lose.
Dropping his gun he snatched his automatic from his belt and, just as
the leading animal was about to take the final spring, he fired.  The
huge wolf fell dead at his feet a bullet in his brain, but another
was upon them almost instantly.  Jack fired again, but this time he
must have missed for the wolf did not stop and before he could fire
again he was upon him.  As they came to the ground Jack succeeded in
getting a firm hold on the long hair at the beast's neck and, pushing
with all his strength, he was able to keep the huge jaws away from
his throat.  Over and over they rolled in the snow, but almost at
once the boy heard the crack of Lucky's rifle and knew that the
Indian had loaded and was firing again.

After what seemed a long time and just when it seemed that he could
not hold those terrible jaws away another instant he heard a muffled
shot close at hand and instantly he felt a convulsive shudder pass
through the wolfs body and the head fell forward in his grasp.
Flinging it from him he sprang to his feet.

"Heem hurt you?"

"Only a few scratches I reckon," Jack panted.  "Where are the rest of
them?"

"Them run, but we kill most all."

Jack quickly glanced toward the tree, but only the still forms lying
on the snow met his gaze.

"Bob must be up that tree," he said as he looked about for his
automatic which had fallen from his hand when the wolf hit him.  He
located it almost at once and, shoving it into his belt, he picked up
his rifle and started for the Indian who was already nearly to the
tree.

"Bob!  Bob!  Oh Bob!" he shouted as he ran.

But there was no answer and his heart almost stopped beating as he
joined Lucky beneath the branches of the tree.

"You--you don't--" he began, but the Indian interrupted.

"Heem must be up thar."

"Take my rifle and I'll have a look," Jack said as he handed over the
gun and swung himself up.

"He's here," he called a minute later.  "But--but I can't seem to
wake him."

The Indian was beside him almost before he had finished speaking.

"Heem no dead," he declared after he had laid his ear over his heart.
"We geet heem down an' back to camp queek."

It was hard work getting the heavy body down out of the tree, but
they did it quickly knowing that a moment more or less might well
mean his life.  The ground seem literally covered with the bodies of
the wolves, but they took no heed of them as they quickly fastened on
their snow-shoes and started back, the Indian carrying Bob over his
shoulder.  Fortunately Jack's shoes had not been damaged in the fight
and he went ahead carrying their rifles.  Not once did the Indian
stop and he refused to allow Jack to carry him or to help, asserting
that they could make better time that way.  Jack was amazed at the
Indian's strength and the speed which he was able to maintain with
such a heavy load.

Arrived back the Indian laid the still form on a blanket over the bed
of boughs and started rubbing his limbs while Jack hurried to get out
their medicine case.  For fully fifteen minutes they worked before
the first sign of returning life rewarded them.  Over and over Jack
moaned that he was dead, but the Indian insisted that it was not so
and they kept on.  Then Jack noticed a slight twitching of one eyelid
and fell to work with renewed hope.

"Heem heart geet stronger," Lucky assured him.

"He's opening his eyes," Jack declared a moment later.

A low moan followed Jack's words and Bob opened his eyes.  A faint
smile played about his mouth, but he was too weak to speak.

"Don't try, old man," Jack cried.

"Tank de Bon Father," Lucky murmured.

They continued to work on him for some time and as the color returned
to his face Jack thanked God over and over again for His great
goodness.

"We see him feet froze," Lucky said after a little.

Quickly they unlaced the moccasins and pulled off the heavy woolen
socks.

"Oui, dem froze," Lucky declared.

"Badly?"

"Non, no bad.  Rub wid snow."

Jack did as ordered and had the great satisfaction of seeing the
color come slowly back.

"Them be heap sore for 'while, but them geet well," Lucky declared
after a few minutes.

By this time Bob was able to whisper a few words, but the Indian
cautioned him to save his strength and soon he fell into a deep sleep.

"More heem sleep now the better," Lucky assured Jack.

"You think he'll be all right?"

"Oui, eef heem no have pneumonia."

"You think there's danger of it?"

"Some, but heem ver' strong an' clean.  Mebby heem no geet eet."

They took turns watching by his side through the long hours of the
night fearful lest the dreaded fever develop.  But Bob slept nearly
all the time, waking only to ask for water.  Once Jack was sure that
he had a temperature and awakened the Indian.  But he thought not and
a little later slight drops of moisture on his forehead proved that
he was right.

Morning came at last and with it the glad news from Lucky that the
danger was passed and that Bob would be all right.

"But eet one ver' close call," he said.

Bob was very weak, too weak in fact to talk much and the Indian
insisted that he keep perfectly quiet.  With the light came the first
flakes of snow presaging the coming of the storm which the Indian had
been expecting.

"Injun mak' hut, you tend heem," he ordered.

He took one of the axes and went off into the woods to return a few
minutes later dragging a number of long poles which he had trimmed
clear of branches.  With these and a lot of spruce boughs he quickly
fashioned a rude, but strong tepee large enough to accommodate the
three of them.

"You think it's going to be a bad storm?" Jack asked after they had
placed Bob inside.

"Mebby.  Most storm some bad up here."

"How long will it be before Bob is able to go on?"

"Two, mebby three day."

"Well, we must wait till he's all right."

"Oui, we wait."

In less than an hour if was evident that they were in for another
blizzard and they spent the greater part of the day getting in a
large supply of firewood.  Fortunately they found a number of dead
trees only a short distance off and by dark Lucky was certain that
they had enough to last for at least three days.  Bob had slept most
of the time and seemed stronger every time he awoke.  About four
o'clock he awoke and wanted to know if it wasn't most time to eat.
He ate all the Indian would let him and then declared that he was
strong enough to tell them of his adventure.

"All right, but you stop queek you geet tired," Lucky cautioned him.

"I know I was going to sleep, simply couldn't help it, and I was
almost equally sure that I wouldn't wake up in this world," he told
them when he had finished.

"We must have gotten there very soon after you went to sleep," Jack
said.

"Oui, ver' queek or heem no wake," Lucky added

"How many wolves did you kill?" Bob asked.

"We didn't stop to count them," Jack laughed.  "But we must have shot
all of a dozen.  What do you think, Lucky?"

"Mebby dozen, mebby more.  Two three got 'way."

"Well, I hope I never see another wolf as long as I live," Bob
declared.

"Same here," Jack added.

"We see heap more," Lucky shook his head.

"I suppose so," Jack agreed.

"Injun do wrong let boy go."

"None of that stuff now," Bob said quickly.  "I'd have been all right
if I hadn't been clumsy enough to lose my gun and that wasn't your
fault."

"But Injun--"

"Forget it," and Lucky never mentioned the subject again.

All that night and all the following day it snowed and blew.  How the
wind did blow outside, but beneath the overhang of the cliff where
they had pitched the tepee it was comparatively still and thanks to
the thick circle of trees, only a small amount of snow found its way
to them.  At one side, but beneath the overhang, Lucky had
constructed a rough shelter for the dogs and they were, as Jack had
said, "well stabled."

Long before both Jack and Bob had made warm friends with the members
of the team and although it would be extremely dangerous for a
stranger to touch any of them, they found they could do anything with
them.  In fact, as Lucky declared, "Them dog adopt you white boys
ver' queek."

It had been the Indian's intention to start out on a reconnoitering
expedition himself the morning following Bob's adventure, but so
fierce was the storm that he knew it would be folly to attempt it.
Bob passed a good night and in the morning insisted that he was all
right and wanted to get up, but Lucky would not hear of it.

"Mebby you geet up tomorrow, mebby not.  No geet up today an' that
flat, oui."

"All right, you're the doctor," Bob laughed good naturedly, but he
chafed at the restraint.

It was still snowing hard when they went to bed that night, but Lucky
declared that the wind was working around into the west and that it
would clear before morning.  And he was right for the morning dawned
clear and cold.

"Forty below," Jack announced as he looked at the thermometer which
he had placed on the other side of the tepee.

"That's kind of chilly around the edges," Bob laughed as he pulled on
his moccasins.

He had insisted on getting up and Lucky, after a show of reluctance,
had given in.

"How much snow has fallen?" Jack asked the Indian who just then
entered the tepee.

"Heap lot.  Eet drift ver' much, but must be four feet on level.
Breakfast heem ready."

"And so are we and hungry too," Bob told him.

"You feel all right, oui?"

"Fine's a fiddle."

"No weak?"

"No weak."

"Bon."

"Bon is right," Bob smiled.

"And now what's the program?" Jack asked as soon as the meal was
finished.

"We all go find cabin?"  Lucky looked at Jack and then at Bob.

"Fine."  Both the boys spoke the word at the same time.

They left in about a half hour just as the sun was casting its first
rays into the defile.  They found the traveling extremely hard as the
snow was light and their snow-shoes sank several inches at every
step.  But they took it easy, Lucky in the lead, for he was afraid,
that, in spite of Bob's declaration, the boy had not as yet fully
recovered his strength.  It took them the better part of an hour to
reach the scene of Bob's adventure and he was unable to prevent a
shudder as he caught sight of the tree in the branches of which he
had so nearly perished.  The bodies of the wolves were, of course,
buried deep beneath the snow and there was nothing except remembrance
to recall the terrible experience.

"You tired?" Lucky asked Bob as they stopped beneath the tree.

"Little bit," Bob replied reluctantly.

"We rest leetle beet, oui?"

"Guess we better, but I'm all right."

"You feel bon, eh?"

"I sure do," Bob assured.  "Only a bit puffed."

"How far do you suppose it is to the cabin?" Jack asked.

"No can say.  Eet may be mile mebby two, mebby three.  Fellers up
here no sure of distance."

"In which respect they haven't a thing on a lot people back home,"
Jack laughed.  "Remember that farmer, Bob, up near Jackman, who told
us it was only a little over a mile to town when it was exactly four
and a half?"

"And he'd lived there all his life," Bob laughed.

After a short rest they started off again, Bob taking the lead with
strict orders from Lucky to go slow and not get tired.  Not a breath
of wind stirred the branches of the trees and not a sound save the
crunch of their snow-shoes on the dry snow.  All nature seemed at
rest and, although the sun was low in the sky, its rays had raised
the temperature noticeably since they left the camp.

"My, but it's getting real hot," Jack laughed as he took off his cap
and went through the motions of fanning himself.  "I don't believe
it's much more than thirty below."

They had stopped again for a breathing spell and Bob, in spite of his
efforts to conceal it, was breathing heavily.

"You no so strong you tink, eh?" Lucky asked anxiously.

"Oh, I'm all right only I seem to get out of wind rather easily," Bob
asserted.

"We tak' heem more easy."

"All right.  You're the boss."

"We've made about two miles don't you think?" Jack asked, turning to
Lucky.

"'Bout."

"Then I suppose we're apt to run into that cabin most any time now."

"Mebby."

But another long mile lay before them before they came to the end of
their search.  Bob was again in the lead and he suddenly stopped and
held up one hand as a signal for the others to come to a halt.

"What is it?" Jack asked as he came back to where they were standing.

"The cabin is about fifty feet from where I was," he announced in a
low tone.

"You see heem?"

"Yes."

"You see smoke come from heem chimney?"

"No, there was none."

"White boys stay here while Injun go see."

Without waiting for them to object the Indian started off and was
almost at once lost to sight amid the thick trees.

"Was it a big cabin?" Jack asked

"Not so big."

"If there was no smoke it looks as though there was no one there, I
should say."

"It sure looks that way, but I reckon we'll know before long."

In less than ten minutes they heard Lucky shout for them to come.

"That settles that part of it," Bob declared as they started.

"Sure does," Jack agreed.

In another moment they were through the fringe of trees and in plain
sight of the little cabin which stood beneath the branches of one of
the largest spruces they had ever seen.  Lucky was standing a few
feet from the door and they could see that the snow was banked nearly
half way to its top.

"And there are no tracks except his," Jack declared as they advanced.

"No one home?" Bob asked trying to conceal his disappointment.

"Non, no one home," Lucky echoed.

The three looked at each other for a full minute before anyone spoke
again.

"We must get in," Bob finally said.

"It's going to be some job to get that door open without a shovel,"
Jack declared.

"How about a window?"

"Oui, we geet in window."

There were but two windows, one on each side, and they consisted of a
single pane of glass about fourteen inches square.

"Going to be a pretty tight squeeze even if we can get it open," Bob
said as they halted after making a circuit of the cabin.

"But I reckon we can make it," Jack declared as he stepped close to
the window and began to examine it.  "It's nailed fast," he announced
a moment later.

"Think we can drive it open?" Bob asked.

"Could if we had a hammer or an axe."

"Which we haven't, but there's a pile of wood out back.  You wait a
minute till I see what I can find."

He was back shortly with two sticks of wood one about a foot long and
an inch or more thick while the other was nearly four feet long and
about three times as thick.

"Here we are," he said as he handed the small piece to Jack.  "Now,
you hold that against one corner and I'll see what I can do."

Jack did as directed and Bob began to hammer the end of the stick
with his club, gently at first and then harder as the frame showed no
sign of yielding.

"Guess they must have used spikes," he said as he paused to examine
the frame after he had struck thirty or more blows.

"Mebby better try other one," the Indian suggested.

"Not a bad idea," Bob agreed.  "Come on, Jack, perhaps that one isn't
nailed so hard."

"I'm going to get in there if I have to break the glass," Jack
declared as he followed the others around to the other side.

"I hope it won't be necessary."

"She's giving a bit," Jack shouted after Bob had been hammering away
for about five minutes.

"Good."

"Bon."

"That's enough.  I think I can push it out the rest of the way," Jack
told them after a few more blows had made a large crack between the
window frame and the sill.

"All right.  Go to it," Bob panted.

Jack pushed with all his strength and finally had the satisfaction of
forcing the window completely out.

"Now for the squeeze," he said as he laid the window down on the snow.

"Better take a good look around inside there first," Bob cautioned.

"Don't see anything to be afraid of," he announced a moment later.
"So here goes."

Jack and Lucky had little difficulty in getting in, but Bob was
thicker and with him it was indeed a tight squeeze and they had to
help him.  But finally they were all in and ready to inspect the
cabin.

To be sure the small windows admitted but little light, but they were
able to see well enough after the first few minutes.  The cabin
consisted of but a single room and was meagerly furnished.  An old
rusty cook stove in the center, a rough table and three old straight
backed chairs together with a couple of rude bunks filled with spruce
boughs about completed the inventory, with the exception of a rough
closet at one end which contained a few pots and pans and a few
cracked dishes and three or four knives, forks and spoons.  The floor
was of dirt.

"Gee, it doesn't look as though anyone had lived here for a good
while," Jack said after they had made the complete circuit of the big
room.

"It sure doesn't look promising," Bob agreed.

"Heem look ver'--what you call heem--punk," Lucky added.

"Punk is right and then some," Jack told him.

"But the place looks mighty clean," Bob declared.

"But that doesn't mean anything, does it?"

"I don't know that it does," Bob acknowledged.

"How long since anyone has been here," Jade asked, turning to the
Indian.

"No can tell."

"But you can guess."

"Mebby week, mebby year."  Lucky shook his head.

"And that's not very definite,"

"Not ver'," Lucky confessed.

All this time the Indian had been moving about examining each object
with the utmost minuteness in an effort, he explained a few minutes
later, to get a clue as to what manner of men had last occupied the
cabin and how long ago they had been there.  But he was forced to
acknowledge that it was too much for him and that he was beat.

"Injun hate geev up," he said shaking his head sadly.  "But no can
tell."

"But I've found something."

Bob was at the other end of the room from the others as he spoke and
they hastened to where he was closely examining one of the logs which
was about on a level with his shoulders.

"What is it?" Jack asked eagerly.

Bob made no reply, but pointed with his finger.

"S. L."

Jack spelled out the letters slowly and then looked at his brother.

"Well?" he asked.

"S. L. stand for Silas Lakewood, don't they?" Bob asked a bit
impatiently.

"They could, of course, but don't forget that they could also stand
for a good many other names as well.  It doesn't look to me as though
those letters were cut there very recently.  What do you say, Lucky?"

The Indian looked at the letters for a long time before he made any
reply, but he finally turned to Jack and said:

"Heap hard tell, but Injun tink them not ver' old, mebby three, mebby
four week."

"Why do you think so?" Bob asked.

"Color wood tell Injun."

"Well, I think it's a pretty safe bet that he's been here anyhow,"
Bob declared.

"But we knew that before," Jack said.  "Or at least we have that
man's word for it."

"Yes and these letters make it pretty near certain, don't you think,
Lucky?"

"Oui, heem been here."

"Granted for the sake of the argument, and now what's the next step?"

"I'll never tell you," Bob said soberly.

"It kind of looks to me as though we're at the end of our rope so to
speak," Jack declared.

"What's your opinion, Lucky?" Bob asked.

"Eet not bon--what you call heem--situation," the Indian began after
a moment of deep thought.  "We no can track heem in fresh snow,
Lightnin' heem bon tracker, but no bon here."

"But we can't give up yet," Bob told him.

"We no geeve heem up."

"Then what?"

"Mebby we wait two, three day, mebby dey come back, eh?"

"And mebby they won't," Jack added.  "But I guess that's as good a
plan as any.  What do you say, Bob?"

"I reckon it is.  To try to follow them under the circumstances would
be mere guess work unless we can find some clue on the outside."

"That's a mighty good idea.  I never thought of that," Jack said.
"Let's get at it."

"Better wait till 'nother day," Lucky advised.  "Eet geet dark time
we geet back now an' we got nothin' eat."

So, after a little discussion it was decided that they would go back
to the camp and come again early in the morning and hunt all day if
necessary for a clue.




CHAPTER X.

THE ESKIMO.

"Now I reckon we'll need all the woodcraft we ever learned."

The sun was not yet up although it was after ten o'clock and they
were once more standing in front of the cabin.  The night before they
had seriously considered the plan of moving all their stuff into the
cabin and making it their headquarters, but Lucky had not been in
favor of it, pointing out that they would have to build a fire in the
stove and that the smoke would betray their presence in case the man
should return.  So the final vote had been against it.

It was Bob who made the above statement and both Jack and the Indian
readily agreed with him.

"Which way do you think they most likely went?" Jack asked looking
first at Bob and then at Lucky.

"North, I should say," Bob replied and Lucky nodded agreement.  "You
see, if they had gone south we would probably have run into them or
at least heard from them from someone who did," he explained.

"Then I reckon we'd better hunt up that way first," Jack proposed.

Both the boys, having spent a good part of their lives in the great
woods of Northern Maine, were very expert in reading the signs of the
forest and, as Jack had more than once declared, the Indian forgot
more about such things every night than they ever knew.  But in spite
of all this several hours of hard searching told them next to
nothing.  To be sure they found plenty of signs which told them that
someone had been there not many weeks previous but, as Jack put it,
there were altogether too many of them, for they found them not only
to the north, but on all other sides as well, and there was
absolutely nothing to indicate the direction they had taken when they
quit the cabin for the last time.

"Looks like a case of heads you win and tails I lose," Jack said a
bit discouragingly as they finally stopped to swallow the lunch they
had brought with them.

"Don't quite see the connection," Bob told him.

"Gray matter working a bit sluggishly today?"

"Maybe."

"Well, if we stay here we're not likely to find them and if we don't
we're not."

"Don't what?"

"Don't stay here."

"Oh.  Well, your comparison is very poor.  In fact it is not
applicable to the case in hand at all."

"Which may or may not be a matter of opinion," Jack grinned good
naturedly.

"Leesten."

The Indian suddenly held up his hand.

"Someone's coming," Bob declared a moment later.

"Queek, we geet out sight."

They were only a short distance from the cabin and it was but a
moment's work to gather up the remains of their lunch and slip around
to the other side of it.

"But they'll see our tracks," Jack said.

"Of course, but we can't help that," Bob told him.

It was but a few moments before they heard a loud voice calling on a
team of dogs to stop and Lucky whispered:

"Eet Eskimo."

"Then we might as well show ourselves," Jack suggested.

They at once stepped out from behind the cabin, the Indian in the
lead, and saw that he had been right in his estimate of the
nationality of the stranger.  He was a short fat man completely
swathed in furs and was accompanied by a team of four dogs with an
nearly empty sled.  He was busily engaged in examining their tracks
and they were within a few feet of him before he was aware of their
presence.

"How," Lucky said pleasantly as the man looked up.

"Ugh."

It was a grunt, but whether meant to be pleasant or hostile the boys
were unable to tell.

"Where you come?"

The Eskimo shook his head evidently not understanding the question.

The Indian repeated the question this time in French, but he again
shook his head at the same time saying something in a language
entirely new to the boys.  But Lucky understood him for he
immediately answered in the same language, and, for several minutes
they carried on a spirited conversation helped along by many eloquent
gestures on the part of the stranger.

"Heem say heem live three hundred mile nor' of here," Lucky told them
when the man stopped for a moment.

"Ask him if he's seen the men we're after," Bob suggested.

"Injun asked an' heem say oui, heem seen 'em."

"Where?"

"'Bout hundred mile nor'."

"How long ago?" Bob asked eagerly.

"Three day.  Heem say dey got leetle camp on Colville River."

"Have you ever been there?" Jack asked.

"Noo, Injun no go nor' more dan leetle way more."

"Ask him if he'll be our guest for the night," Bob directed.

"Heem say oui," Lucky announced as soon as he had given the
invitation and received his answer.

"Then I reckon we might as well be getting back to camp."

"Oui, we go."

They arrived back at camp just as it was getting dark and Lucky
directed the stranger to make himself at home.  The Eskimo took in
the location of the camp at a glance and then drove his dogs to a
thicket a few yards away where he quickly located them for the night.

"Heem no dare put heem dog near ours, fear dem fight," Lucky
explained.

"He seems to be a sort of a grouch," Jack declared a little later as
he noted how the stranger persisted in keeping much to himself.

"Probably he's bashful," Bob smiled.

But his shyness vanished quickly as soon as supper was ready and he
ate with great relish the food which Lucky heaped on his plate.

"Too bad we haven't any candles to offer him," Jack laughed.

"He seems to be doing very well as it is," Bob laughed back.

"I'd hate to have him for a steady boarder."

When it came time to turn in, Lucky, at Bob's suggestion, offered the
Eskimo a place in the tepee, but he declined on the ground that it
would be too warm.

"Heem say heem sleep out door, geet plenty air."

At Bob's suggestion the Indian had questioned the man further
regarding the two men they were hunting, but it seemed that he knew
no more than he had told them at first.  He had seen them as he came
by, but had stopped only to pass the time of day.

Shortly after six o'clock the following morning, Bob awoke with a
strange sense of impending disaster.  Had he heard someone prowling
about in the night or had he only dreamed if?  Careful not to disturb
the others, who were still sleeping, he wiggled out of his bag and
crept noiselessly outside.  For a moment he stood gazing into the
North where streamer after streamer sent an almost dazzling light far
up into the heavens.

"I never saw such a display of the Northern Lights," he murmured as
he gazed at the scene at most spellbound.

The fire was burning low only a few embers showing a dim light, but
it was not dark and he could see plainly for some distance.  There
was no sign of their guest and he concluded that he must have slept
over near his dogs.  Moving quietly he made his way toward the
thicket stopping every few feet to listen.  He did not want the man
to suspect that he was spying on him, but some inner sense told him
that all was not well.  And a moment later his suspicions were
strengthened when he found that both man and team were gone.

"It's strange," he thought as he looked at the place where they had
huddled together.

Then he turned and ran quickly over behind the tepee where their
stores were packed on the sled.  And now his suspicions were
confirmed.  He had heard someone prowling behind the tepee during the
night and he was disgusted with himself that he had not awakened
sufficiently to make an investigation.  Their stores had been rifled
and, it seemed to him, the greater part of them were gone.

"Jack!  Lucky!" he yelled.

There was no answer and he yelled again this time louder, and was
rewarded by a "huh" from Jack.

"Get out here and make it snappy."

"Where's the fire?" Jack asked sleepily a moment later as he poked
his head out of the tepee.

"He's gone."

"Who's gone?"

"That Eskimo."

"Well, why make such a fuss over a little thing like that?"  Jack was
out of the tepee with the Indian close behind him.

"Take a look here and you'll know," Bob snapped.

"The--the,"

"All that and some more," Bob interrupted.

"To think that he'd steal our food," Jack gasped.

"Heem one beeg thief," Lucky added.

"But we've got to have those things back.  He's taken nearly
everything we had," Bob declared after he had investigated a moment.

"Injun go geet heem."

"And we'll go with you," Jack added.

"Non," Lucky shook his head.  "Injun go faster heemself."

"You'll take the dogs?" Bob asked without arguing the point for he
knew Lucky was right.  They were no match for him when it came to
speed.

"Oui.  Tak' dog, bring back stuff."  The Indian was already hurrying
toward the dog shed and in less than five minutes he was ready to
start.

"You stay here till I come bac'," he ordered as he gave the order to
mush.

"How long do you expect to be gone?" Bob shouted after him.

"No can tell.  Be bac' as queek as can."

"And I hope it will be soon," Bob said turning to Jack.  "I'll be
mighty uneasy until he returns."

"Same here.  There was something about that guy that I didn't like a
little bit.  He had a bad eye."

"Also a bad disposition."

"Well, I hope Lucky gets him and gets the stuff back.  It'll be very
inconvenient for us to say the least if he doesn't."

"He'll do it if anyone could, and I don't imagine it will take him
very long to catch up with him as our dogs are well rested and his
must be tired."

"Not so very tired either.  Remember he's been traveling light."

"That's true too.  I wonder how long he's been gone."

"That's hard to say.  And, by the way, it's kind of strange that none
of us heard him."

"I did," Bob told him.

"You did?  Well, why in the name of common sense, didn't you stop him
or do something?" Jack demanded.

"Well, you see, I didn't get awake enough to really know that I had
heard anything.  I remember wondering if I had really heard it or had
just dreamed it.  It's too bad, of course, but there's no use crying
over spilled milk."

"Don't think I was blaming you, old man," Jack hastened to assure
him.  "It wasn't your fault.  But I'm hungry.  Let's get something to
eat if he's left us anything at all."

"Righto.  You build up the fire and I'll see what I can find."

Jack had the fire going in good shape by the time Bob was back with a
can of condensed milk and a small package.

"We'll have to make out with flapjacks," he announced.

"Is that all you could find?" Jack asked disappointedly.

"This is all he left us in the eating line.  I don't know how he came
to overlook these."

"He took all the coffee?"

"Every bit of it."

"He ought to be hanged."

"And then some."

"If he was in need of food and had taken a little I wouldn't have
blamed him so much, but to strip us clean up here in this
wilderness--well, it's little short of murder."

"You said it.  Believe me I would like to be with Lucky when he gets
him.  I'm afraid he won't do the case justice."

"Leave it to him.  I think he'll be equal to the occasion."

The flapjacks proved pretty dry eating without coffee to wash them
down, but they managed to make out with melted snow.

"What'll we do to pass the time?" Jack asked as soon as they were
finished.

"Let's go hunting," Bob suggested.  "We ought to be able to get a
deer; goodness knows we've seen plenty of tracks and we need the
food."

"Goodness knows that too," Jack laughed as he crept into the tepee
for the rifles and snow-shoes.

They struck out toward the north and had not been gone more than a
quarter of an hour when they came upon the tracks of a deer.  It was
yet dark and not for another two hours would the sun show itself, but
the moon, which was nearly full, gave sufficient light to see for a
long distance.

"They look pretty fresh," Bob announced after he had carefully
examined the tracks.

"Then I reckon we'd better follow them."

The tracks crossed their trail at right angles and led up the side of
the mountain to their right.  At this point, however, the assent was
not steep and, although they plunged at once into thick woods, they
found the going easier than they had expected.

"He's sinking in pretty deep," Jack said as they hurried along.

"Yes, we ought to catch up with him before long unless the tracks are
older than I think."

They had been climbing for the better part of an hour when the tracks
turned and lead parallel with the side of the mountain.  At first
they welcomed the change in direction, thinking that it would be
easier but, before they had gone a hundred yards farther, they found
themselves on a part of the mountain where it was much steeper and,
owing to the slant, it was extremely difficult to keep their balance.
But they went on as rapidly as possible, now and then falling
headlong in the snow as a shoe slipped and threw them off their
balance.  But they each time picked themselves up with a laugh and
hurried on confident that they must soon sight their quarry.

"Look over there," Bob said as he paused and pointed toward the east.

"It's beautiful," Jack declared as he watched the edge of the sun,
looking like a huge ball of fire, creeping over the top of the
opposite mountain.  "But there's something even more beautiful just
at present," he whispered a moment later as he clutched Bob's arm and
pointed to a spot about a hundred feet in front.

There, on a slight rise in the ground, stood a magnificent buck
facing them.  The animal stood up to its knees in the snow and did
not seem at all afraid.

"Isn't he a beauty?" Bob whispered.

"It's a shame to shoot him," Jack replied.  "But we've got to have
the meat so let's get it over with."

Raising their rifles they took careful aim and both fired at the same
time.  The deer fell in its tracks and never moved.

"He had an easy death at any rate," Bob said as they went toward it.

"He's too big to carry in whole so we'll have to cut him up here."

Both boys knew how to dress a deer as they had many times hunted in
the Maine woods and, in the course of an hour, they had selected the
choicest pieces and hung the rest well up in the branches of a tree
where it would be out of the reach of the wolves.

"So far so good," Jack said as they were fixing the meat so that they
could fasten it to their backs.  "Now if we get back all right and
find that Lucky has returned without stuff--"

"Hold on there," Bob interrupted.  "Don't tempt providence too far
with your ifs."

"Well, there's nothing like being optimistic as I've heard you say
many a time."

"Up to a certain point."

"And I reckon you think I'd reached that point," Jack laughed.

When they were ready to start each boy had nearly fifty pounds of
meat strapped to his back and the load made traveling doubly hard as
they soon found.  But their success had made them again light hearted
and they did not mind the hard work.

"I reckon Lucky'll be some surprised when he sees us come in with all
this meat," Jack said when they were about half way back to where the
trail had turned.

"If he's back," Bob reminded him.

"Don't you think he'll be back by the time we get there?"

"I doubt it."

"Well, here's hoping."

It was about one o'clock when they reached the place where the trail
had turned and both agreed that they had better take a rest before
starting down the mountain.

"I don't know how you feel about it, but I'm all in," Jack panted as
he unslung his pack.

"Same here," Bob agreed.  "That was about as hard a tramp as I ever
took."

They rested for a half hour and then started off again Jack taking
the lead.  They had taken but a few steps when Bob spoke to him and
in turning his head to reply Jack carelessly tripped himself and
pitched headlong into the snow.  It was by no means the first time it
had happened and Bob broke into a roar of laughter.  But the mirth
died on his lips as he heard Jack utter a loud groan.

"What's the matter?" he cried as he hurried forward.

"Afraid I've sprained or broken my ankle," he groaned.

"Maybe it's not so bad as you think," Bob encouraged as he put his
hands beneath his shoulders and helped him to get to his feet.

But Jack sank down again with a low moan of pain.

"I can't do it," he groaned.

"Let me have a look at it."

Bob unfastened the thongs which held the foot to the snow-shoe and
carefully unlaced the moccasin.

"Am I hurting?" he asked.

"Some, but it doesn't matter."

By the time he had drawn off the heavy sock the ankle had swollen
somewhat and, as carefully as possible, he examined it.  First aid to
the injured had been taught them at the military college and both
boys knew not a little about such injuries.

"Pretty sore, eh?"

"Some."

"I'm pretty sure it's not broken, but it looks like a pretty bad
sprain and that's almost as bad," he announced as he started to draw
on the sock.

"What'll we do?"

"Get back as soon as possible."

"But--but I can't walk."

"Of.  course you can't, but I reckon I can carry you."

"Not down this mountain you can't."

"I'm going to anyhow."

Seeing that his brother was determined Jack made no further objection
and, as soon as Bob had cached the two packs of meat in the branches
of a nearby tree, he set about getting ready for the start.

"You'll never make it."

"Don't you believe it."

It was hard work getting the injured boy onto his back without
hurting him, but finally it was accomplished and, as Jack declared,
without hurting a bit.

"Now you take it easy," he cautioned as Bob took the first step.

Even he had not fully realized how hard it would be.  The extra
weight caused his snow-shoes to sink much deeper in the snow and
going down hill made each shoe push itself forward into the snow thus
rendering it very difficult to lift it up for the next step.  But he
knew that it had to be done.  With the temperature nearly thirty
degrees below zero and getting lower all the time as he thought, he
knew it would be death to leave him for any length of time.

"Rest awhile," Jack begged after they had covered a few rods.

"I'm all right for a bit yet."

"Better do as I say."

"In a minute."

It was not much over the stated time when he was obliged to put him
down.

"Jack, heem heap heavy, as Lucky would say," he panted as he
carefully lowered him to the trunk of a fallen tree.

"I thought you'd find you'd bit off a bit more'n you could chew."

"Not a bit of it and that's three bits in two sentences.  I didn't
say I could carry you all the way in one jump."

"Well, take as many as you like."

"Does the foot hurt?"

"Not much: kind of a dull ache, but I'm afraid it's swelling some."

"No doubt of it and it'll continue to swell for some time yet."

He made the foot of the mountain in the next spell but was obliged to
rest again before going farther.

"It'll be a lot easier now we're on level ground," he panted.

"If only I was one of those skinny fellows now it wouldn't be so hard
on you."

"You're all right just as you are, that is all but your ankle."

Bob was resolved to make camp without stopping again, knowing that
the sooner he got Jack where he could treat the injured ankle with
hot water the better it would be.  So he took as short a rest as he
dared and, despite Jack's protests, he was soon on the go again.  As
he had said it was easier now, but it seemed as though every muscle
in his body was at the breaking point when finally he carefully
lowered him onto the boughs in the tepee.

"Now I'll get a fire going and heat some water as soon as I can," he
assured him.  "Is it hurting much?"

"Not bad."

"I'll bet it is just the same," Bob muttered under his breath as he
hurried out of the tepee.

He had a fire going in a few minutes, but it took considerable time
before the water was boiling hot.

"Now then," he said cheerfully as he re-entered the tepee with a
kettle of the steaming water.

"Didn't take you long."

"It seemed a long time to me.  I thought the water would never come
to a boil," Bob told him as he began to unlace the moccasin.  "Yell
if I hurt you."

"Don't be afraid.  I'll yell all right."

When he had removed the sock he found that the ankle had swelled to
an alarming extent and he could not repress a sigh.

"Rather bad isn't it?" Jack asked.

"It's not so good and that's a fact."

"I thought it was swelling pretty fast."

Wringing out a towel in the water he bound it as tightly as Jack
could stand about the ankle.

"You got it hot all right," Jack grinned.

"The hotter the better just so it doesn't burn."

"Guess I can stand it."

For an hour he continued the treatment changing the towel as soon as
it became cool and putting on a hot one and, at the end of that time,
had the great satisfaction of knowing that the swelling had subsided
considerably.

"There, I reckon we'll have to let nature take its course," he said
as he finished.

"Isn't it about time Lucky's getting back?" Jack asked.

"Great Scott, I haven't given him a thought since we got back.  Let's
see, it's just one o'clock and I hardly expect him before dark.  Now,
I'll get us a bite of flapjacks and then I must go back and bring in
that meat."

"Won't it be safe till morning?"

"Maybe, but a venison steak will go pretty good for supper tonight,
don't you think?"

"I reckon, but you're too tired to go way back there."

"Tired your grandmother.  I'll be back almost before you know I'm
gone.  It isn't far."

By a quarter of two they had eaten of the scanty fare and Bob was
ready to start.

"I'll leave your rifle right here by your side," he said.  "Now don't
you move that foot while I'm gone and I'll be back just as soon as I
can make it."

"Don't kill yourself.  I'll be all right."

"Good bye, then."  Bob bent and kissed his brother's cheek.

"You're the best in the world," Jack told him as he shook his hand.




CHAPTER XI.

LUCKY BRINGS BACK THE "BACON."

Although Bob had tried hard to conceal his fears he had been much
worried since Lucky had left them.  To be sure he had unbounded
confidence in the Indian, but he also realized that he was not
infallible and he had little doubt regarding the character of the
Eskimo who had stolen their food.  Any man who would do a thing of
that sort would not be likely to hesitate at even murder were his
safety threatened.  Should anything happen to prevent his return they
would be in a pretty desperate situation especially now that Jack was
helpless.

These thoughts filled his mind as he started off, but he whistled a
merry tune until he knew he was out of hearing.

"I do hope he'll be back when I return," he said half aloud.

He found the packs of meat as he had left them and decided to leave
one where it was as he was, in spite of his assurance in Jack's
presence, pretty tired and fifty pounds was about all he cared to lug
back under the circumstances.

"The rest'll be safe enough," he thought as he slung the pack to his
back.

Although it was not yet three o'clock when he stumbled into camp,
tired through and through, darkness had fallen.  He had started
whistling as soon as he knew that he was in hearing distance and
Jack's voice, as he shouted a welcome, assured him that all was well
so far as he was concerned.

"Lucky's not back yet," he said as he swung the pack to the ground
and entered the tepee.

"Not yet."

"Oh, well, he's likely to come any minute now," he said trying to
speak cheerfully.  "How's the foot?"

"The patient is doing as well as could be expected."

"Hurt much?"

"Not much.  But you must be about played out."

"Not so you'd notice it.  Think you can masticate a good juicy steak?"

"Lead me to it, or rather lead it to me."

There was still a good bed of coals and in a very few minutes Bob had
a huge steak sizzling in the frying pan.

"Thank goodness he didn't take both bags of salt," he said to himself
as he found a small sack of the precious material which the thief had
overlooked.  "Now, if he'd only left us a few spuds it wouldn't be so
bad, but perhaps Lucky'll be back with them by the time the steak's
ready."

But he was not and they had to eat it straight, as Jack put it.
However hunger is an excellent sauce and the thick juicy steak,
cooked to a turn, went down with no urging.

"Best thing I ever tasted," Jack declared after he had eaten all he
could manage.

"Not half bad, but I do wish Lucky'd come."

"If wishes were horses, you know," Jack quoted.

"Yes, I know.  But he ought to be getting along."

Although Jack objected strenuously Bob insisted on giving the ankle
another hot water treatment and it was close to six o'clock when he
had finished, and the Indian had not returned.

"Something's gone wrong with Lucky," Jack declared.

"I hardly think so.  You see, there's no telling how far he had to
chase him and you know Lucky."

"And we don't know that Eskimo.  There's the rub."

"But--"

"Honest Injun, now, aren't you worried?"

"Sure I am, but I honestly think he'll come back all right."

"How long do you think this old ankle will lay me up?"

"A week maybe."

"A week, your grandmother's eye.  Bet you I walk on it tomorrow."

"Maybe, but I doubt it."

During the past half hour Bob had been conscious that the wind was
rising steadily and the fact caused him no little uneasiness.  If
they should have another blizzard before the Indian returned it would
make their lot doubly hard.  As he went outside to replenish the fire
he cast an anxious eye upward and his fears were increased when he
was unable to see any stars.

"I believe it's going to snow again," he muttered as he threw a big
log on the fire.

As he again looked up a flake of snow struck his face and he turned
back and entered the tepee with a sinking heart.

"How's the weather?" Jack asked.

"Not so good."

"Snowing?"

"Starting a bit."

"I thought that wind sounded like it."

"Perhaps it won't amount to anything."

"Storms usually don't up here," Jack said sarcastically.

"But this one may be an exception."

"Maybe.  But, honest Injun, Bob, we're in rather a bad fix, don't you
think?"

"Bad, but not desperate.  We've got food enough, thanks to that buck,
to last a good while so we won't starve and, thank goodness, we had
sense enough to keep our ammunition in the tepee so he didn't get
away with that.  I don't see that we're in any great danger."

"Well, you'd better put that light out.  All the oil we have left is
in those two lanterns."

Bob blew out the light and for a long time they sat in the darkness
and talked.  The temperature had risen during the past few hours and
the heat reflected from the fire, which Bob kept going, made it very
comfortable in the snug tepee.  Each did his best to appear cheerful
but each knew that the other was far more anxious that he let on.
While they knew that they were in no great danger the thought that
their friend might be lying dead or wounded somewhere out in the
storm made the situation almost unbearable.  Several times Bob had
been out to replenish the fire and each time he reported that it was
snowing.  To be sure the storm had not as yet reached the height of a
blizzard, but each time he went out he realized that the wind was
stronger and the snow was coming down faster.

"It's ten o'clock," he announced.  "Shall we hit the hay?"

"Might's well I reckon.  He won't be back tonight."

Bob lit the lantern and helped Jack get into his sleeping bag.  Then
he went out and fixed the fire so that it would last for several
hours.

"It's going to be a blizzard all right," he muttered as he crept back
into the tepee and into his sleeping bag.

He blew out the light and for several moments there was silence and
each boy knew that the other was in communication with Him who is
conscious of the sparrow's fall.

Although very tired it was long before Bob slept.  Over and over
again he asked himself what could have happened to Lucky, and as
often came the thought that it must have been something very serious
or he would have returned.  He could tell by the sound of Jack's
breathing that he was asleep and he was glad.  That the storm was
increasing in violence he knew and the knowledge that it might last
for days added to his worry.  Finally he was almost off when the
faint, but unmistakable howl of a wolf, far off on the mountain side,
brought him wide awake.

"One would think we had trouble enough without that," he thought.

But second thought convinced him that they really had little to fear
from wolves.  The fire would keep them away and even though they
should brave that they had their guns and plenty of ammunition.  So
he put that thought from his mind and soon was asleep.  How long he
slept he did not know, but it must have been several hours for he
could not see the reflection from the fire as he reached out and
pulled aside a branch from one of the thick boughs.  The wind was
howling with almost demoniacal fury and, as he listened a moment,
above the noise of the storm came the dismal howl of a wolf and he
knew that the animal must be near.

"Was that a wolf?" Jack cried as he caught hold of Bob's arm.

"Guess so."

"What time is it?"

"Five o'clock," Bob told him after a glance at the luminous dial of
his wrist watch.

"Reckon the fire's about out, isn't it?"

"Must be.  I'll go out and build it up."

"Think its safe?" Jack asked as another howl reached their ears.

"Sure.  They're not that near and I'll take my gun."

"But--"

But Bob was already out of his bag and creeping from the tepee and
what Jack said was lost in the fury of the storm.  As soon as he was
on his feet he saw that only a small bed of coals remained of the
fire.

"And the snow would have put them out if it wasn't for the protection
of that cliff," he thought as he hurried to where they had piled the
supply of wood.  "I'll have to get in some more wood tomorrow
whatever happens," he muttered as he noted the small amount left.

The fire was so low that it took him some little time to get it to
blazing again, but he finally accomplished it with the aid of some
light stuff and had turned to get more when an angry snarl caused him
to glance over the fire.  There, about thirty feet from where he
stood, but plainly visible in the light of the fire, was the largest
wolf he had ever seen.  It was evident that the great beast feared
the blaze and dared not approach nearer, but it was also clear that
it was loath to retreat.  So it stood there baring its cruel fangs
and uttering snarl after snarl.

Bob had stood his rifle against a tree only three or four feet from
where he was and in another instant it was in his hand and he was
pressing the trigger.  Had it been daylight it would have been an
easy shot but the flickering fire must have disturbed his aim for the
wolf, with an angry snarl, either of rage or pain, he was not sure
which, turned and bounded off into the forest.

"Missed him," Bob groaned in disgust.

"Did you get him?"

He barely caught the words.

"No, I missed him, but he's gone."

"Hurry up, he may be back."

"There's no danger.  I'll be in in a minute."

But it was some time before he had the fire going to his satisfaction
and he would not leave it before.  He could hear, now and then, the
snarl or howl of the beasts and knew that there must be quite a
number of them around but, although he kept close watch, he saw no
more and, finally, he crept back into the tepee.

"Many of them?" Jack asked anxiously.

"There's a few, but the fire'll keep them off."

"How'd you miss?"

"Reckon the fire threw my aim off.  It was a good shot."

"Didn't you hit him at all?"

"I don't know.  He sounded as though he was kinder disappointed."

"Probably had his mind made up for a good meal," Jack chuckled.

"Well, he isn't going to get it off us," Bob assured him.

"You go to sleep and I'll wake you if there's any need."

"What's the matter with the other way around?"

"No, you need it and I don't.  You've been doing all the work and may
have to do it all for a day or two longer if this bum ankle of mine
gets to cutting up."

"How does it feel?"

"Pretty good.  But will you do as I say?"

"I would if I could, but the sleep's all knocked out of me and I
couldn't go to sleep if my life depended on it."

"All right then, we'll talk."

"You'd better sleep."

"Couldn't do it."

"You mean it?"

"Sure do.  I'm not a bit sleepy."

"All right, I'll be glad of your company."

"How's the storm?"

"It's still snowing."

"Hard as ever?"

"I'm afraid so but, to tell the truth, I didn't pay much attention to
it."

"It doesn't seem to be blowing quite so hard."

When Bob's watch told him it was seven o'clock he declared that he
was going to get breakfast wolves or no wolves.

"I haven't heard them for the last half hour and they've probably
gone," he told Jack.

The wind was still blowing a gale and the snow was driving with
unbated fury outside, but within the fringe of trees it was not so
bad and, after he had replenished the fire with almost the last of
the wood, he got the meat from where he had hung it in a tree and cut
off two thick steaks.  Then he melted some snow and mixed up a batch
of flapjacks with the water as the condensed milk was all gone.

"Venison steak and flapjacks," he announced a half hour later as he
brought the food in to Jade.  "What more could you want?"

"A cup of coffee."

"That would go good, but we'll have to make out without it this
morning, I reckon."

After they had eaten, Bob made an examination of the injured ankle
and was gratified to find that the swelling had nearly vanished.

"Is it very sore?" he asked.

"Not so very.  Let's see if I can stand on it."

"Better wait a bit."

"But--"

"No buts.  You'll only injure it if you tax it now."

Jack knew that Bob was speaking the truth and did not press the point.

"Don't you think, Bob, that you ought to go hunt for Lucky?" he asked
a little later.

"And leave you here?"

"I'd be all right."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"But the wolves have gone and they're not likely to return very soon."

"Well, I've got to get some more wood in first anyhow, so we won't
decide till that's done and perhaps he'll be back then."

The sun would not be up for another two hours or more, but it was not
so dark that he felt obliged to wait.  But once outside the fringe of
trees where the full strength of the storm struck him, he doubted his
ability to accomplish his purpose.  But he knew that there was plenty
of dead wood where they had been working before and it was only a
short distance away.  At every step he sank nearly to his waist and,
before he had gone twenty feet, he decided he had better go back and
put on his snow-shoes.  Fortunately the wind was directly in his face
and he knew that, although it took about all his strength to make
headway against it, it would be of great help when it came to
dragging the wood back.

"I'd never be able to drag much of a stick against this wind," he
muttered.

He remembered a large spruce which had fallen a little to the right
of where they had obtained the wood before and which they had not
touched and he felt sure that, could he but find it, he could get
enough to at least last through the day and the next night.

He located the tree without much trouble and was glad to see that the
snow was not quite up to the trunk.  This made it comparatively easy
to chop off the thick branches and he set to work after standing his
rifle, which he had not dared to leave behind, against the butt of
the tree.  He forced himself to work with exceeding care as he well
knew the danger of a slip of the axe under the circumstances and
should he cut himself they would be in a plight ten times more
serious than at present.  When he judged that he had cut as much as
he could drag he hastened the butts of the branches together with a
piece of rope and, picking up his rifle, started back.  It was only a
little over a hundred feet back to the fire, but he was all but
winded by the time he got there with his load.

"Coming along fine," he shouted sticking his head into the tepee
before starting back for a second load.

"How's the storm?" Jack asked.

"Still humming."

"No sign of a let up?"

"Not yet."

While working Bob had been trying to make up his mind what he ought
to do.  Lucky was undoubtedly in trouble and he felt that he ought to
go to his aid in case he could find him.  Then, on the other hand,
was his duty to his brother.  Would it be safe to leave him in his
present condition?  Suppose the wolves should come back while he was
gone and make an attack on him.  He shuddered as he thought what
might result in case he was not able to keep them off.  Then again,
suppose something should happen to him and he be unable to get back.
Jack would surely die and again a shudder ran through him.  It was a
situation which sorely taxed his mind, and he was unable to decide
where his duty lay.

He had dragged in his third load and was back at the tree and about
to start cutting again when he heard a sound which sent the blood
racing through his body.  At first he thought it was a wolf and then,
as it came again, he knew he had been mistaken.

"That's Lightning, or I'm a Dutchman," he cried as he put his hands
up to his mouth and gave a loud yell.

The yell was answered almost at once in the welcome tones of Lucky's
voice and for an instant Bob raised his eyes and thanked God.  Then,
grabbing up his rifle, he hastened back and burst through the fringe
of trees just as the dog team swept around the farther end.

"Thank God," he cried and the next minute he was hugging the Indian
as though he never intended to let him go.

"Whar Jack?" the Indian asked as soon as he could speak.

"I'm in here," Jack called out.

"He sprained his ankle yesterday," Bob explained.

"Dat bad, but I tank Le Bon Dieu you safe."

By this time he was inside the tepee where he received a welcome
fully as warm as Bob's.

"Did you get the stuff?" Jack asked after a bit.

"Oui, I geet heem."

"But what made you gone so long?"

"That can wait, Jack," Bob broke in.  "Can't you see he's tired and
hungry?"  Then, turning to the Indian, he said: "Now you lie down
here in your bag and I'll see to the dogs and get you something to
eat."

But the Indian would not hear to it insisting that he was all right
although he acknowledged that he was pretty hungry.

"Then you see to the dogs and I'll get you something to eat.  We got
a buck yesterday and I reckon you can get outside a good sized steak."

"Oui, I eat heem ver' quick."

Bob had the steak cooking in almost no time and Lucky declared that
it was the best thing he had ever eaten.  As soon as he had finished
they went inside the tepee where Jack was waiting impatiently.

"Thought you'd never come," he growled.

"Now, Lucky, tell us all about it."

"Oui, Injun tell.  Injun geet up with heem leetle past noon.  Heem
goin' ver' fast, but Injun's dog heem go faster, oui.  Heem no hear
me till I geet most up to heem.  Then heem see an' mak' to draw gun,
but Injun have gun out an' Injun tell heem hand up or heem geet keel
queek.

"And I'll bet he put 'em up in a hurry," Jack said as Lucky paused.

"Oui, heem put um up."

"Then what?" Bob asked as he paused again.

"Injun come close an' mak' heem put stuff back on sled.  Heem ver'
mad' an' watch ver' close chance to geet--what you call um--drop, but
heem no geet."

"I'll bet he didn't."

"Keep still and let him tell the story," Bob ordered.

"When heem stuff all put on my sled Injun tell heem start off ver'
queek.  Tell heem no look back an heem ver' glad go heem see heem no
geet drop on Injun.  Injun watch heem till heem geet long ways off
an' then Injun turn heem dog around an' we start back."

"What time was that?" Bob asked.

"Now, who's interrupting?" Jack demanded.

"Eet 'bout ein o'clock.  All go bon till we geet most half way back
an' then that Slack dog heem geet seek, ver' seek, an' we have stop.
Injun no know what matter with dog.  Heem act like heem got belly
ache ver' bad.  Got no medicine so have to rub heem belly ver' long
time an' tink mebby heem goin' die.  Injun no want dog die, dey too
bon dog.  So keep on rubbin' an' when eet begin geet dark dog begin
geet better, but heem still some seek.  So put heem on sled an'
start, but een leetle while Pete dog heem geet seek and have stop rub
heem long time.  When heem geet better have go ver' slow an' begin
snow, have go slow some more.  No geet here till leetle while ago.
But Injun geet here."

"You bet you did," Jack burst out.

"How ankle?  Heem ver' bad?"

"It's coming along fine now.  Reckon I can walk on it tomorrow."

"I'm not so sure about that," Bob said with a shake of his head.

"How long's this storm going to last, Lucky?" Jack asked.

"No can tell.  Mebby not ver' long."

"I don't see why it doesn't make a continuous performance of it and
be done with it.  Then one would know what to expect," Jack growled.

"Don't be pessimistic," Bob advised.  "Now that Lucky's back we can
stand a little snow, I reckon."

"A little, yes, but who said anything about a little?"

"Well, a lot then."

"That's a lot better."

"You no walk on that foot tomorrow I tink."

"But I could ride for awhile and we could go slow."

"Mebby, eef snow not too mooch.  We see mornin' heem come."

It seemed good to have a variety of food once more and they made a
bit of a feast of the dinner opening a number of things which they
had been saving for some special occasion.  In the short afternoon
they cut some more wood and dragged it in and as darkness was falling
the storm showed signs of breaking.

"Eet be bon day tomorrow," Lucky announced while they were eating
supper.

"Then we'll be off," Jack declared.

"Mebby, see how um foot be in morning."




CHAPTER XII.

VISITORS.

As Lucky had predicted the storm blew itself out during the night and
the stars were shining in a clear sky when they ate breakfast shortly
after seven o'clock.

"How um foot feel?" Lucky asked when the meal was over.

"Fine's a fiddle," Jack assured him and to convince him that he was
telling the truth he took a few steps with only a slight limp.

"You no can walk on foot today.  Mebby tomorrow, oui."

"Sure I can.  Why it doesn't hurt hardly any."

"Lucky's right, old man, and you know it.  As long as it hurts at all
it would be foolish to think of trying to walk on snow-shoes," Bob
added.

"But couldn't I ride on the sled?" Jack asked.

"No can do.  Too mooch snow mak' eet too hard for dog.  Eet keel um."

"Well, of course, I don't want to do anything like that, but I sure
do hate to be wasting time here.  By the time we get up there we'll
probably find they've left for the North Pole."

"Then it'll be the North Pole for us," Bob chuckled.

During the day Jack growled off and on at the enforced delay although
he knew that the Indian was quite right.  But the ankle was improving
rapidly, thanks to Bob's treatment, and he was resolved that it
should not keep them from starting out the next morning.

The next morning came at last and, although the Indian shook his head
and Bob advised waiting over another day, Jack insisted that the
ankle would stand it and, against their better judgment, they finally
gave in.

"You no keep on that ankle heem hurt," Lucky ordered as, shortly
after eight o'clock, they were all ready to go.  "That ankle heem no
strong an' you hurt heem some more mebby you no use heem again for
ver' long time."

The weather had continued warmer than was usual and the snow, which
had been heavy when it fell, had settled rapidly and was so well
packed in most places that the dogs sank in but a little and the sled
hardly at all.

"Eet ver' bon snow-shoen'," Lucky said after they were fairly on the
way.

"You bet," Bob replied.  Then, turning to Jack, he asked: "Does that
ankle hurt any?"

"Nothing to speak of," Jack assured him.  "Of course, I know I've got
one."

"You tak' heem easy.  I tink snow packed 'nough so you can ride some
on sled when you geet tired," Lucky told him.

"I'll let you know when I want to ride," Jack assured them.

The Indian had set a slow pace, knowing that Jack would not be able
to maintain a fast one for any length of time, and it was nearly ten
o'clock when they reached the scene of the accident and retrieved the
meat which Bob had cached there.

Lucky had estimated that they had made about twenty-five miles when
they stopped for the night shortly after five o'clock.  It had been
dark for several hours, but not dark enough to prevent them from
traveling.  Jack had rode a good part of the way although he had
protested strongly every time Lucky or Bob had proposed it, and his
ankle was in fairly good shape although he confessed that "it didn't
feel as good as new."

"But another night's rest will fix it all right," he assured them.

All day their way had led through the defile between the two ranges
of mountains and, for the most part, they had been ascending although
at no time had the way been at all steep.  They were off to an early
start the next morning resolved to make a long day of it, provided
Jack's ankle permitted, and when the sun showed itself over the top
of the mountain, Lucky declared they had covered not less than
fifteen miles.  Jack had walked nearly all the time, resorting to the
sled only a couple of times and then only for short distances.

Shortly after noon they emerged from the defile and found, stretching
out before them and sloping gently downward, an unbroken waste of
snow reaching as far as they could see.

"Great Scott!" Bob burst out.  "How are we ever going to keep a
straight course across all that?"

"We ought to have a compass," Jack added.

"Mebby heem not so far heem look," Lucky told them.  "Eet ver' what
you call hazy.  Mebby not ver' far 'cross."

"Here's hoping," Bob told him.

His hope was realized for just as it was beginning to get dark they
sighted a thick growth of trees and in another hour they were once
more traveling through woods.

"Are you sure we're on the right trail, Lucky?" Bob asked anxiously.

"Oui.  I tink so.  Eskimo heem tell me whar go."

"But how do you know that he was telling the truth.  Any man who
would do what he did wouldn't hesitate to lie."

"Mebby heem lie."

"Well, I suppose the only way to find out is to keep on."

"Oui, that only way."

How the Indian could keep anything like a straight course through the
deep forest, in which they were now traveling, and where he had never
been before, was a mystery to the boys.  But he never hesitated as he
led the way and they knew they were making good time.  It was about
half past five when he finally called a halt for the night and both
boys were glad to hear the order, Jack especially as his ankle, which
was still far from being strong, had been giving him considerable
pain during the last hour.

"We mak' eet tomorrow, mebby," Lucky told them as he set about making
the dogs comfortable for the night.

The temperature had been falling ever since morning and now the
mercury in their thermometer stood thirty degrees below zero and was
still falling.

"It's going to be a bit cold around the edges tonight," Bob declared
as he took the axe and started to hunt for firewood.

"Bet she'll go to forty," Jack agreed.

"How cold you ever know it to get up here, Lucky?" he asked a little
later as they were sitting around the fire eating supper.

"'Bout feefty-five, mebby seexty."

"Well, I hope it doesn't break that record while we're up here," Bob
laughed.

They reached Colville River soon after dark the following day and
made camp in a thick clump of trees close to the bank.

"Wonder if there's any fish in this river?" Jack asked.

"I 'spect um thar, but you find eet plenty hard work cut hole een
ice," Lucky told him.

"Do you fellows want some fresh fish for supper enough to do the work
here while I'm trying to get some?"

"Go to it," Bob told him.

If he had realized what it meant to get a hole through the ice it is
doubtful if Jack would have proposed fish for supper, but once
started he was resolved not to give up.  But it was all of an hour
and a half from the time he started before he was ready to drop in
his line.  However he felt amply repaid when he carried six good
sized salmon back to camp.

"You got 'em," Bob greeted him.

"Sure did, but I thought I'd hit the bottom of the river before I
struck water," Jack told him.

"How thick is the ice?"

"Must be nearly three feet and there's about four feet of snow on top
of that."

"Well, you ought to have a medal."

The fish proved a very welcome addition to their rations and they had
a good, if a rather late, supper.

"Do we go up or down from here?" Bob asked a little later.

"Up," Lucky replied.

"But have you any idea how far from here they are?"

"Not mooch.  That man heem say only leetle way from whar we strike
river."

"Then we ought to find them tomorrow?"

"Mebby.  No can tell."

Lucky and Bob had dug a hole in the snow and had covered the bottom
with an extra thick layer of spruce boughs as the night bid fair to
be the coldest they had yet encountered.  The sleeping room, as Jack
dubbed it, was long enough to permit a good sized fire to be built at
one end and, as the walls were nearly five feet high, it was really
cozy by the time they were ready to turn in.

"Forty-eight below," Bob announced as he glanced at the thermometer
just before crawling into his bag.

"I should worry," Jack, who had been "in bed" for some moments,
chuckled.

Jack was a sound sleeper and seldom awoke during the night unless
disturbed.  But this night it seemed to him that he had hardly fallen
asleep when he awoke with a sudden start.  For a moment he lay
wondering what had happened.  He could hear Bob breathing steadily on
one side of him while the Indian was snoring quietly on the other,
and knew they were both sleeping.  The fire had died down to a bed of
coals by which he knew that he had been asleep for some hours at
least.  He was about to shut his eyes again, convinced that he had
awakened without cause, when a low threatening growl reached his ears.

"That's Lightning," he thought as he strained his ears again.

For some moments he heard no other sound and drowsiness was stealing
over him when the sharp snap of a twig brought him wide awake.
Reaching over he touched his brother lightly.

"S-s-s-s-h.  Listen," he whispered.

"What is it?" Bob breathed.

"There's something or someone out there."

"I don't hear a thing," Bob whispered.

"Listen."

"I hear it now," as another twig snapped, answered by an angry snarl
from one of the dogs which awoke Lucky.

"What matter with dog?" he whispered as soon as he saw that the boys
were awake.

"There's something prowling around the camp," Bob told him.

"Injun go see."

"Reckon we'd better all go," Bob said as he began to squirm out of
his bag.

There was only a small rim of the moon showing, but the sky was
filled with stars and it was not dark.  In fact Bob could see for
some distance through the woods as he carefully raised his eyes over
the edge of the snow.  At first he saw nothing to cause him any
alarm, but after a moment of watching he caught sight of a shadowy
form stealing from behind a large tree about thirty feet away to the
security of another some ten feet nearer.

"It's a man," he whispered.  "And there's another and another," he
added a moment later.

The dogs were now growling almost continually.

"What'll we do?" Jack whispered.

"We wait, see what um do," Lucky whispered back.

"How many have you seen?"

"Six so far," Bob whispered, and a moment later added: "They're
working around where the dogs are."

"That no go," Lucky growled.  "Mebby um keel dog."

As he spoke the Indian leaped to the edge of the snow and shouted:

"Who you, eh?"

For a moment there was silence broken only by the snarls of the dogs,
then, from behind a tree, only about ten feet from where he stood,
stepped a man.  The boys could see that it was a man of large frame
standing well over six feet, but it was not light enough to guess at
his nationality until he spoke.

"Who you?"

"He's a breed," Bob whispered in Jack's ear.

"What you want in night here?" Lucky snapped the question in a tone
they had never before heard him use.

"You name Lareux?" the man asked ignoring Lucky's question.

"Non."

"What ees eet?"

"Hogan, Lucky Hogan."

"Dat sound Irish.  You Irish?  You no talk Irish."

"No Irish.  Me Injun."

"Your name Irish, you talk lik' breed an' say you Injun.  Eet too
mooch.  You step out here whar I geet good look.  You try funny
beesness an' my man heem shoot."

For an moment Lucky hesitated as though trying to make up his mind
whether or not to obey the order.

"Go ahead, Lucky," Bob whispered.  "I've got him covered."

"My man heem got you on de sight," Lucky said as he took a few steps
forward in the deep snow.

The other, who was on snow-shoes, advanced to meet him and in a
moment they were close together.  The stranger carried a rifle, but
he bore it over his shoulder as though he had no idea of using it at
present.  On his snow-shoes he towered nearly two feet above Lucky.

"You no Lareux," the boys heard him say.

"Who heem?" Lucky asked.

"Heem ver' bad mans.  Heem keel one of my mans an' we hunt heem."

"When heem keel heem?"

"Tree, mebby four day ago," the stranger answered somewhat evasively
Bob thought.

"Where you leeve, eh?" Lucky asked after a pause of a moment.

"Up nor'."

"How far?"

"What for you ask question so mooch?"  It was plain that the man was
rapidly loosening his patience of which he probably had no great
store.

"You ask first," Lucky told him pleasantly.

"Dat my beesness."

"Mine too."

"How many mans you got?"

"Some.  How many you?"

"You see some man yes'day?" the stranger next asked without replying
to the question.

"Non."

"Day 'fore dat?"

"Non."

"All right.  We go now.  You no man we want."

He turned and stole silently back into the forest and the boys could
see others slipping from behind trees and following him.

"What do you make of it?" Bob asked as soon as the Indian was back in
the "bed room."

For a moment Lucky hesitated.

"Injun no like dat man," he finally said.

"You think he's no good?"

"Mebby.  Injun tink heem--what you call heem?--one beeg bluff."

"You mean you think he was after us and not that man he mentioned?"

"Oui."

"Then why did he leave?"

"Heem heap big coward.  Heem no know how many here."

"You think he'll come back?"

"Mebby.  No can tell."

"Well, it's after three o'clock now.  I reckon we'd better keep an
eye open, eh?"

"Injun watch.  White boys go sleep."

But both declared they had had enough sleep and could not go to sleep
again anyway, so they built up the fire and, for the next two hours
the Indian entertained them with his stories of which he seemed to
have an inexhaustable supply.  But every few minutes one or the other
would get up and take a look around, not that they thought it at all
likely that they would return so soon, but they wanted to be on the
safe side.

"How about eats?" Bob asked when his watch told him that it was
nearly six o'clock.

"You wait leetle minute," Lucky said as he got to his feet.

"What you going to do?" Bob asked.

"Injun scout 'round leetle 'fore we geet eats.  Mebby they hide
somewhere, take shot, oui."

"You'll be careful?"

"Oui.  Injun look out ver' queek."

While talking the Indian had jumped out of the hole and was fastening
on his snow-shoes.

"You no geet out till Injun come back," he ordered.

"You're the boss," Jack told him and the next moment he was gone.

"Hope he isn't gone long," Bob said as he sat down again.

"He seems to think of everything," Jack said.  "You and I would have
gone right out and started breakfast and made a fine target of
ourselves without giving it a thought."

"Perhaps."

"Probably."

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps what?" Jack snapped.

"Perhaps, probably," Bob laughed and Jack joined in.

A half hour passed and they were beginning to get uneasy when the
Indian returned.

"All gone," he announced.

"Good.  Now we can get something to eat and, believe me, I'm about
starved."

"Same here," Jack added.

"Now we got be mighty careful," Lucky cautioned as they were about to
start off up the river an hour later.

"You think they may be coming back?" Bob asked.

"No can tell.  We--what you call heem?--play heem safe."

"You bet," Jack declared.  "That's my motto, 'play safe'."

"Since when?" Bob asked.

"Since--since--well, since I got a good look at that half-breed,"
Jack stammered.

"I thought it was of recent origin."

They had intended to travel on the river as it was much easier than
through the woods, but Lucky told them it would be safer to keep to
the woods declaring that they would make altogether too good a mark
out in the open.

"Injun goin' keep leetle way ahead an' white boys follow heem track.
No can geet lost."

"No, but you can get shot," Bob said soberly.

"Injun no geet shot.  Injun got eyes."

"I'll say you have," Jack testified.

When all was ready the Indian ordered them to give him a start of
five minutes and then to come on with the team.  Both boys had,
during the trip, taken turns at driving the dogs and, although they
still lacked much of Lucky's skill, they could manage very well.  The
Indian took a course nearer the river than that taken by their
visitors of the night so they had no trouble in following his tracks.

"Hope he don't get too far away," Bob said as he gave the order to
mush.

They had been on the way a little over an hour when, suddenly, the
sound of a rifle shot broke the silence of the forest.

"What's that?" Bob cried as he ordered the dogs to halt.

"There's no doubt about what it was," Jack answered.  "The big
question is why?"

"Was it Lucky's rifle, do you think?"

"Don't know."

They listened for a moment or two but there was no other shot.

"Maybe he shot at a deer or something," Jack suggested.

"If he did he'll be coming back in a minute because he'll know we
won't know what to make of it."

"Well, if he doesn't show up pretty soon I'm going on.  Perhaps he's
in trouble."

"We'll wait five minutes," Bob said glancing at his watch.

The five minutes were just up when they caught sight of the Indian
coming toward them at a rapid lope.

"What's up?" Bob asked.

"Did you shoot?" Jack asked.

"No shoot, geet shoot at," he told them.

"One of those fellows?" Bob asked.

"Injun 'spect so, no see um."

"Tell us about it," Jack said as Lucky paused.

"Not mooch tell.  Injun go 'long like when bang go gun, but no geet
heet, so come back."

"Well, what'll we do?" Bob asked.

"Do you think he meant to hit you?" Jack asked before the Indian
could reply to Bob's question.

"Tink heem mean scare Injun.  No hear bullet."

"Then I move we go on.  I don't belive they intend to kill us and
anyhow they can do it about as well in one place as another up here
if that's what they are after."

"What do you think, Lucky?" Bob asked.

"We run dey catch us, we stay here dey find us yer' queek.  Mebby we
go on."

But as it happened it was not left for them to decide for just then
another shot rang out followed by the thud of a bullet as it buried
itself in the trunk of a tree over Jack's head.

"Hey, what's the big idea?" he shouted.

In answer to the question a man, whom they all recognized as their
visitor of the night before, stepped out from behind a tree about
thirty feet away.  Instantly Bob had him covered with his rifle.

"No shoot," the man cried.

"Why not?" Bob demanded.  "You've had two shots at us."

"No shoot to hit."

"Well, that last one was a bit too close for comfort," Bob told him
still keeping his rifle leveled.

"My mans all 'round you.  You shoot we keel all."

"That's different."  Bob lowered his gun as he had little doubt, but
that the man was speaking the truth.  "What do you want with us?" he
demanded.

Instead of replying to the question the breed stepped forward after
giving a shrill whistle.  Then they saw that he had indeed spoken the
truth for instantly, from all sides, five other men stepped from
behind the trees and came toward them.

"Some reception," Jack whispered.

"You come wid us," the big man ordered as he motioned to his men to
start north.

"What's the idea?" Jack asked.

"Huh?" The man snapped.

"I mean what are you going to do with us?"

"You find dat out later."

"But I want to know now."

Jack was never one to be bossed unless the one who did it had a good
right and he was mad clear through.

"No geet heem mad now," Lucky whispered and taking the hint, Jack
added:

"All right, have it your own way.  I reckon you're the doctor."

"Huh?"

"I said you're the big boss."

"Oui, me boss."  It was clear that the man was pleased with the
acknowledgment.  "You do what me say no geet hurt.  Try funny
beesness an' you better not."

"I reckon you're right," Jack assured him.

He ordered them to follow after his men and he brought up the rear
keeping a few yards behind them.

"What do you make of it, Bob?" Jack whispered after they had gone a
short distance.

"Haven't an idea, but we'll probably find out sooner or later."

"I reckon."

They noted that they were traveling in a direction which made an
angle of some forty-five degrees with the river and the way was up a
gentle rise for more than an hour.

Suddenly, when they were nearly to the top of the hill, a large but
low log cabin loomed up ahead.

"Guess we're there," Bob said in a low tone.

"You mean here, don't you?"

"It's all the same."

The five men, all breeds, were standing about the door, as they came
up, as if awaiting further orders from their leader.  He spoke some
words to them, in a French dialect, which the boys, although they
were fairly conversant with the language, failed to understand, but
it was evidently an order for one of them to show the Indian where he
was to stable the dogs.  The man motioned for Lucky to follow him
around back of the cabin and, without a word, he drove the team after
him.  The leader pushed open the door and, after slipping off his
snow-shoes, told the boys to enter.

The cabin was roughly but almost luxuriantly furnished and consisted
of at least two rooms.  The front room, in which they found
themselves, contained a large massive table in the center and a half
dozen roughly built, but comfortable easy chairs, four of them being
rockers.  A huge fireplace occupied nearly the whole of one end while
the side away from the door was lined with bunks.  Several bear and
deer skins were on the floor and above the fireplace an enormous
moose head was fastened to the logs, the antlers touching the top of
the room.  Many skins of different animals adorned the walls.
Altogether it was a most homelike appearing room and, for a moment,
the boys gazed about spellbound.

"Nice place you have here," Jack finally declared.

"Oui, eet ver' bon," their host replied evidently pleased with the
praise.

"Did you build it?" Bob asked.

"Non, me no build heem."

"Bought it, eh?"

"Non, no buy heem."

Evidently the man did not intend to enlighten them as to the means by
which he had secured possession of the cabin and Bob quickly decided
that it would not be wise to press the matter.  Instead he asked:

"Are we to consider ourselves prisoners?"

For a moment the man did not answer then, then with a slight shrug of
his massive shoulders, he said:

"Mebby."

"What do you mean by that?" Bob demanded.

"You geeve word you no try geet away you no prisoner."

"And if we refuse?"

Again the man shrugged his shoulders.  "Den you prisoner, oui."

"Then I reckon we'll have to be prisoners.  But what's the idea?"

"Huh?"

"I mean why have you taken us prisoners?"

"You find dat out plenty time."

Before Bob could speak again the door opened and Lucky, followed by
the five breeds, entered the room.  The Indian seemed as much
astonished as had the boys at the room, but they could see that he
was trying not to make any show of his astonishment.

"Deese boy no promise not to geet away," the leader said turning to
Lucky.  "You mak' 'em promise, oui?"

"Non."  The Indian shook his head.

"Den we feex you so you no geet away."

"Mebby."

"For sure, no mebby."

Lucky shrugged his shoulders as much as to say that the incident was
closed so far as he was concerned, and the leader turned to one of
the men and gave an order.

"You mak' home," he said not unpleasantly turning again to Lucky and
the boys who were standing close together.  "Dinner be ready een jest
leetle while."

Evidently the big living-room served also for the dining-room for the
cover, a huge bear skin was removed by one of the breeds and dishes
substituted.

"Reckon they don't intend to starve us," Jack whispered a little
later as one of the breeds brought in a huge roast of venison and
placed it on the table.

"Perhaps they're going to eat and let us look on," Bob suggested.

But in this he was mistaken for, after the table had been loaded with
food of many varieties, they were invited to sit up and eat.

"They've got a good chef that's sure," Jack whispered soon after they
started eating.

"Both as to quality and quantity," Bob agreed.

Great as was the quantity of food provided it disappeared rapidly
before the attack of the half-breeds who ate voraciously and with
little regard for table etiquette.  There was no conversation except
a whispered word now and then between the two boys who sat side by
side.  The Indian, whether by accident or design they could not tell,
had been placed on the other side of the table.  Two large logs were
blazing in the fireplace and, as Bob looked about the room, he was
reminded of the many tales he had read of the old Norsemen and their
crude, but rugged civilization.  It seemed that history had been
turned back a thousand years.

As soon as all had finished eating two of the men began to clear the
table while the others, with the exception of the leader, began a
game of cards at a smaller table in one of the corners near the fire.

"What you do up here, eh?"

The leader shot the question at them so suddenly that both boys gave
a sudden start.  Bob cast a questioning glance at Lucky and tried to
read in his face whether or not he ought to divulge the object of
their trip.  But the Indian's face gave no sign and, after a moment's
hesitation, he decided that it could do no harm to tell him.

"We are looking for our uncle," he said.

"Oui?  What heem name?"

"Lakewood.  Silas Lakewood."

"What heem do up here, eh?"

"He came up here from Nome some months ago on a prospecting trip."

"He no geet back?"

"No."

"What heem look like?"

"It will probably seem strange to you, but the fact is we have never
seen him," Bob replied and went on to tell how it had all come about.

"Dat bon story," the man said when he had finished.  "You say dat
man's name what come wid heem ees Long, eh?"

"That's it.  Have you seen them?"

The man slowly shook his head.  "Non, me no see them."

A little later he joined the others at cards and the three friends
were left alone at the farther side of the room where they could
converse in low tones without danger of being overheard.

"It's a queer thing that they haven't taken our revolvers away from
us," Bob declared.

"I was just thinking that same thing," Jack added.  "What's the
matter with holding them up right now?"

But the Indian shook his head as he whispered.  "Eet no go.  Dey
watch us all the tam.  You reach for gun an' they geet you first."

"He's right, Jack," Bob agreed.  "I have an idea they wouldn't object
to an excuse for shooting us.  We'd better sit tight for the present
and play it safe."

"But I'll bet my last year's straw hat that that guy was lying when
he said he hadn't seen Uncle or Long.  Didn't you notice how he
hesitated when you asked him?"

"I did, and I think you're right about the lying.  He's seen them all
right."

About an hour later the other two men came in from the back room and
joined in the game which lasted until nearly six o'clock.  Then
another two set about getting supper while the others continued to
play.  Not a word had been said to the three prisoners during the
afternoon after their first conversation with the leader and, to a
casual observer, it would have appeared that they were taking no
notice of them.  But they knew that not a single motion escaped
observation and they were very careful to make no move which could
possibly be interpreted as hostile.

The supper, although not as elaborate as the dinner, was a good one
and, although they had eaten a big dinner, they did it full justice.
The meal over the game of cards was resumed and again the three were
left to their own resources.

"My, but this is getting monotonous," Jack declared when a clock on
the mantle over the fireplace struck nine.  "If we only had something
to read it wouldn't be so bad."

But there was neither paper nor book anywhere in the room so far as
they could see.  But soon after the game broke up and it was evident
that bed time had arrived.

"You geeve promise we no tie you up," the leader said, crossing the
room to their side.

"Nothing doing," Bob fold him without hesitation.

"Den we have tie you up."

"I reckon you'll have to do as you think best about that."

"Geeve me you guns."

It was an order they had been expecting and, knowing it would be
useless to refuse, they complied, after which the man searched each
one carefully.  Then he spoke a few words to one of his men who at
once left the room returning a few minutes later with some pieces of
rope about the size of clothesline.

"You geet een deese bunk," the man ordered pointing at the end of the
room away from the fireplace.

With no protest they complied and the man proceeded to tie their
hands behind their backs and their feet together.  Then he covered
them each with a heavy blanket and said:

"You no be ver' bon sleep, but you no geeve promise."

"That's all right," Bob told him cheerfully.

"You geet cold you call an' me geet you more blanket, oui."

"Thanks."

In another five minutes the lights had been extinguished and only a
feeble flicker from the dying fire illuminated the room.  Bob had
chosen the lowest of the three bunks and he knew that Jack was in the
one next above while the Indian occupied the top one.  He had
expected they would be tied during the night, but was not sure
whether or not a watch would be kept on them.  He had, for several
years together with Jack, practiced the art of freeing himself from
bonds and both boys were about as expert at the trick as the Great
Houdini himself.  During the evening he had cautioned Jack to be on
the watch for the move so, while the man was tying their wrists
together both boys were straining every muscle in order to get as
much slack as possible when they relaxed.  But Bob had sensed during
the tying that the man was no weakling at the job and he was not at
all sure that he could free his hands when the time came.

For an hour he made no effort to get his hands free and he had
cautioned Jack to wait until he should give him the signal.  When the
clock struck eleven he gave a slight cough which a moment later was
answered from the bunk above and he knew that Jack understood.  He
was certain that they had stationed no watch, relying on the security
of the ropes, and he was also quite sure that they were all asleep
and he knew that, as a rule, these breeds were sound sleepers.

From the feel of the rope about his wrists he knew he was in for a
long job even if he succeeded.  Although he had done his best there
was mighty little slack so tightly had the man tied the rope.  He
hoped that Jack had been able to secure more, but did not dare
whisper to find out.  The half hour struck and he was still striving
and about ready to give up the task as impossible when he felt rather
than heard Jack slip from his bunk.

"You untied?"

"No, he got 'em too tight."

"I just made it and that's all."

With Jack's assistance his hands were soon free and he quickly
released his feet.

"Be careful when you wake Lucky," Jack whispered.

But, although the Indian had made no movement he was wide awake and,
as soon as Bob had freed his hands and feet, he slipped to the floor
beside them.  The room was in darkness as the fire had gone out all
but a few live coals which gave no light.

"Stay right here till I get the rifles," Bob ordered.

He knew that their rifles had been stood in a corner to the right of
the fire and he stepped across the room in that direction his
moccasins making not the slightest sound.  In a moment he was back
with the guns and they lost no time in opening the door and stepping
outside.

"So far so good," Jack whispered with a sigh of relief.

"Have they got any dogs?" Bob asked Lucky.

"I tink not.  Injun see no dog."

"Then we probably can get ours without making any noise."

"Oui, I tink so."

"It would be a big item in our favor if we could take all their
rifles and revolvers away from them," Jack suggested as they moved
away from the door.

"Too risky," Bob whispered.

"What do you think, Lucky?" Jack asked.

"Bob right.  Eet too risky."

"You may be right but it seems to me that it would be worth the risk
for we'd then have them at our mercy."

"But they'll sleep till six o'clock and that'll give us about six
hours' start."

"Start for where?"

"Gee, that's so.  Where are we going to start for?  We haven't found
Uncle yet."

"And he's up here somewhere and something tells me that that man Long
has some kind of a connection with this gang."  Jack declared as they
reached the rear of the cabin.

"And, of course, we can't go till we find him."

"Of course not."

That they were in a predicament was evident to all.  To be sure they
had made good their escape for the time being, but they well knew
that, as things stood then, their recapture was only a matter of a
few hours and their captors would undoubtedly see to it that they did
not make their escape a second time.  If only their mission was
completed and they could leave at once, the chances were greatly in
favor of a complete get away, but, come what might, all three were
agreed that such action was out of the question.  While the men had,
in a way, treated them kindly they knew that they were men who would
hesitate at nothing to accomplish their purpose whatever that might
be.

"Well, we've got to do some tall thinking and do it quick," Bob
declared.  "What's your opinion, Lucky?"

"We must no geet caught again."

"That's easy to say," Jack said.  "But how are we going to help it?
We can't move a foot in this snow without leaving tracks and they're
six to our three and in a rough and tumble we wouldn't be in it for a
minute."

"Oui, you heet eet."

"Then what can we do?  It seems to me that my plan of getting all
their weapons is the only thing left for us."

"Eet ver' risky."

"Of course it's risky, but we've taken risks before."

"Their rifles are hanging on the walls and I reckon we could get them
easy enough," Bob said thoughtfully, "but when it comes to their six
guns it's a cat of another color.  They've got them in their belts
and it would take a miracle to get them all without waking any of
them.  If it was only one or even two it might be done, but six--it's
practically impossible."

"But not absolutely," Jack insisted.

"Well, what's your plan?"

"My idea is for all of us to go in and for one of us to frisk them
while the others stand guard with the rifles ready.  If one of them
wakes up we could simply tell them that the first one to move out of
his bunk would get a hunk of lead in his skin."

"But it's dark in there and we couldn't see them and they could shoot
from their bunks," Bob objected.

"And that's where the risk comes in.  Mind I didn't say it wasn't
dangerous."

"Let's see," Bob mused aloud.  "They've probably all got at least one
gun and with our three it makes nine and even then we couldn't be
sure we had them all.  What do you say, Lucky?"

"White boys stay out here an' Injun go in geet guns."

"Not so you'd notice it," Jack broke in and Bob agreed with him.

"But that the ver' best--" the Indian began, but Bob interrupted.

"No use to argue on that line, old man.  Either we all go in as Jack
proposed, or we try some other plan."

"And that's final," Jack added.

"If it was only light enough in there so that we could keep them
covered--" Bob began.

"But it isn't, so there's no use wishing it was," Jack interrupted.
"I tell you it's our only chance."

"And it's a mighty slim one."

"I grant you that but I still stick to it that it's the thing to do.
The way I look at it is this, if one of them wakes up and starts
shooting the chances are that he wouldn't hit us and, if it got too
hot, we could bolt the door and once outside we'd be no worse off
than we're going to be when they catch us in the morning as they're
going to do if we don't get those guns."

"I don't know, but you're right," Bob said slowly.

"Of course I am."

"Do you think so, Lucky?" Bob asked.

"Oui, I t'ink heem heet eet."




CHAPTER XIII.

LUCKY ACQUIRES AN ARSENAL.

Bob was far from convinced that the move, proposed by Jack, was a
wise one but, for the life of him, he was unable to suggest anything
else and, after a few more objections, he gave in.

"Who's going to do the frisking?" he asked.

"Injun do eet Injun ver' bon like that," Lucky told them.

"All right then.  We'll stand guard and, mind now both of you, if
they start any shooting make for the door as quickly as possible."

It was a desperate chance they were taking and Bob's heart beat
rapidly as they retraced their steps and once more stood before the
door.

"It's up to you, Lucky," he whispered as the Indian reached out his
hand to push the door open.

"Injun do heem best," Lucky whispered back.

"I know it," Bob assured him.

Another instant and they once more stood in the room.  They could
hear the heavy breathing of the men and one of them was snoring
loudly enough, Jack afterward declared, to wake the dead.  The two
boys at once took their position by the big table and the Indian
approached the nearest of the bunks.  It was so dark that they were
unable to see a hand before their eyes, a fact that Bob was undecided
whether to regard as an advantage or otherwise.  Plenty of light
would undoubtedly be to their advantage should any of the men awake
for it would enable them to keep them quiet in their bunks, but a
little light, perhaps, would throw the advantage to the other side.
Maybe, on the whole, it was just as well that it was dark.  Not a
sound save the breathing of the men and the stentorion tones of the
snorer broke the silence.  Lucky was doing his work with absolute
silence and, as minute after minute passed, Bob began to breath more
easily.  Perhaps they would succeed after all.

It seemed to him that a long time had passed when he felt a touch on
his arm and he knew that Lucky was thrusting revolvers into the
pockets of his coat.  He longed to ask him if he was through, but did
not dare and then he knew he was not for he did not give the signal
to leave.  Carefully feeling with his hands he counted six revolvers
and wondered if he had put any in Jack's pockets.  Then, suddenly,
his heart skipped a beat as he heard a movement in the direction of
the bunks.

"What de matter?" he heard one of the men grumble.

He reached out a hand and touched Jack's arm as a caution for him to
keep silent.

"Can't you no let feller sleep?" came, in sleepy tones from another
bunk.

"What for you touch me den?"

"Me no touch you, you have de dream, oui."

"Shut up you feller," came in louder tones which Bob recognized as
the leader's.

Then all was still again.

"That was a narrow one," Bob thought.

The minutes passed and he wondered if the Indian was again at his
work.  He knew he would wait some time to permit them to get to sleep
again.  Then, suddenly, he was conscious of a new sound which seemed
to come from the room at the rear.  It was so slight a sound that he
strained his ears uncertain whether or not he had really heard
anything.  It sounded like a very feeble groan and was repeated
several times so that finally he was convinced that it was no trick
of imagination.

"There's someone in that room," he thought, and wondered if Jack had
heard it.

Would Lucky never finish?  It seemed to the anxious boy that hours
had passed since they had re-entered the room when he at last felt a
tug at his sleeve and knew that the Indian was telling him that it
was over.

"Thank God," he breathed as he reached out his hand and caught hold
of Jack's arm.

A moment more and they were again outside.

"Did you get them all?" Bob whispered as soon as they were well away
from the door.

"No can tell.  Geet all could find."

"How many?"

"I t'ink ten."

"That's one apiece and one over," Jack said.  "Now what do you think
of my plan?"

"It turned out well, but if it hadn't--"

"Quit hanging crepe," Jack interrupted.  "They didn't."

"But they came mighty near it."

"I'll say they did and I was just on the point of ordering hands up
when you touched me."

"It's a good think I touched you then."

"I'll say it was."

"Say, Jack, did you hear anything while in there?" Bob asked suddenly.

"Heard one fellow snoring if that's what you mean."

"No.  I thought I heard something that seemed to come from that back
room."

"As if someone was groaning?"

"Yep, that was it."

"Now you speak of it seems as though I did.  Yes, I remember
wondering what it could be."

"Did you hear it, Lucky?"

"No, Injun too busy."

"Well, I'm convinced that there's someone there and I think we ought
to investigate," Bob declared.

"Maybe they've got Uncle Silas and that Long tied up in there," Jack
suggested.

"Just what I was thinking."

"Well there's a way to find out."

"I know, but I wish I was sure that Lucky got all their guns."

"You can't be, so what's the use of wishing?  Let's go out back and
see if there's a rear door."

"You didn't get hold of a flashlight did you, Lucky?" Bob asked as
they started around back.

"Oui, I geet one," and the Indian pulled it from his pocket and
handed it to Bob.

"Good."

They found a door at the rear as they had expected and, as they
reached it, Bob said:

"No need of more than one going in.  You two stay here and I'll see
what there is there."

"You leave door open," Lucky declared.

The door was not locked and yielded readily to his touch and he
quickly stepped inside leaving it wide open as the Indian had
ordered.  It was pitch dark inside and, for an instant, he listened.
Soon he was conscious of heavy breathing and, pressing the spring of
the flashlight, he threw its beams about the room.  As he had
expected it was the kitchen and in one corner, near the stove, lay
the body of a man.  As Bob bent over the form he perceived that it
was a man slightly past middle age.  He bent over and touched the man
lightly on the shoulder.

"S-s-s-s-h," he whispered as he moved.  "Don't make a noise."

"Who--who are you?" the man whispered.

"I'm a friend.  Are you tied?"

"Yes."

Bob knelt on the floor and in a moment had untied the piece of rope
with which the man's hands were tied behind his back.  Then he
released his feet which were also tightly bound together.

"Can you get up?" he asked.

"I--I guess so."

"Just a minute and I'll help you."

He turned off the light and thrust it into his pocket and then,
putting his hands beneath the man's shoulders he helped him to his
feet.

"You are pretty weak," he whispered.

"I'm starved.  Had nothing to eat for five days."

"The brutes."

By this time they had reached the door and in another minute were
outside.

"You found him," Jack whispered.

"Yes, and they've nearly starved him."

"Who--who are you?" the man again asked weakly.

"My name is Bob Lakewood and this is my brother, Jack and--"

"Lakewood, did you say?" the man interrupted.

"Yes, and unless I'm mistaken you are Silas Lakewood."

"And--and you--you are my nephews."

"Right, but we must not stand here talking now."

"They'll kill you if--if--" the man faltered.

"Not that bad," Bob assured him.  "You see we've got all their guns,
that is, we think we have and--"  Then he stopped short.  "Well of
all the dumb--"

"What's the matter now?" Jack interrupted.

"The rifles.  We forgot them."

"What do you know about that?"

"Injun no forgeet heem."

"You mean you got them, Lucky?" Bob asked quickly.

"Oui.  Them rifle all out whar dog be."

"But when did you do it?"

"After put leetle guns in your pocket.  Then geet rifles."

"And I thought you had gone back for the rest of the revolvers," Bob
told him.

While talking they had been walking toward the shed which stood about
forty feet to one side of the cabin, Bob and Jack supporting their
uncle one on each side.

"We'd better start now as soon as we can, eh Lucky?" Bob asked as
they stopped in front of the shed.

The Indian had gone ahead to make sure that the dogs made no noise
and assured them that he would have the team hitched in "a leetle
minute."

Among their stores were several bottles of malted milk and Bob
quickly rummaged in the pack and found one which he emptied into a
dipper and brought to his uncle.

"I reckon this is the best we can do just now," he told him, "and I'm
not sure, but that it's about the best thing you could have if you
haven't eaten for five days."

Mr. Lakewood drank the milk eagerly and declared that nothing could
have been better suited to his needs.  He had hardly finished when
Lucky announced that the team was ready to start.  Their snow-shoes
were quickly secured, having been stuck in the snow by the door of
the cabin and, as soon as they had arranged a place on the sled for
their uncle and had wrapped him in heavy blankets, they were ready
for the start.

"Where did you put their rifles?" Bob asked the Indian as the latter
picked up his long whip.

"Put 'em een binder pack on sled."

"Then I reckon we're all ready to start, eh?"

"Oui, we go queek."

But at that instant, just as Lucky was about to give the word to the
dogs, Jack grabbed Bob by the arm and whispered:

"Look."

At the same time he pointed toward the cabin and Bob's heart skipped
a beat as he saw that there was a light in the big room.

"Now the fat's in the fire," he gasped.

"But it isn't burnt, not yet," Jack told him.  "If Lucky got all
their guns they can't do much."

"If he only did," Bob repeated.

"What'll we do?" Jack asked turning to the Indian who stood staring
at the cabin, his hands on the handles of the sled.

"We go," he said stoically.  "Mush," he gave the order in a voice
little above a whisper, but the dogs heard it and bounded forward in
the traces.

"Have gun all ready," Lucky ordered.

In order to keep in the trail they were obliged to pass within a few
feet of the front door of the cabin and, as the two boys, who were
walking ahead of the sled, came opposite it, it flew open and the big
leader of the gang rushed out.  But he was not off the step before
both Bob and Jack had him covered.

"Hands up."

The order evidently was no new one to the man for he obeyed without
an instant's hesitation.

"You--you--" he started, then stopped as though at a loss for words
as he caught sight of the sled and the man seated on it as it passed
them.

"Well, what about us?" Bob demanded.

"You--you geet away?"

"Looks like it."

"But--but me--me tie you ver' hard," the man stammered.

"You sure did but not hard enough."

"How you geet untie?"

"That's telling.  Hands up there," he ordered sharply as another of
the breeds appeared in the doorway.

Instead of obeying the man dodged back into the room and Bob's heart
almost stopped.  What if the fellow had a gun?  He could easily shoot
them both from a window.

"You geet all our gun."

Bob was not sure whether the sentence was a question or a statement
of fact.

"I hope so," he said.

He was beginning to take courage again for no shot had come from the
room and he now was almost convinced that Lucky had indeed secured
them all.  Already the sled was some distance down the trail, and,
turning to Jack, he said:

"Let's go."  Then, turning back to the man who still stood "reaching
for the stars," he remarked:

"Yes, we've got your guns and I'd advise you not to follow us for,
believe me, we shall be on the watch and, after seeing how you have
treated that man you had in the back room, we'll not have the
slightest scruples against protecting ourselves."

"But you go leave us wid no gun we starve."

"That's your lookout, but I reckon it won't be as bad as that."

"You geeve me only one gun?"

"Do you think I'm a fool?"

"Me promise me no shoot."

"Nothing doing."

Seeing that his appeal was having no effect the man changed his
attitude and became threatening.

"You no geeve us guns we keel you," he stormed.

"I have no doubt but that you will if you can, but let me tell you
once for all that if you follow us we'll shoot the first man we see
and don't you forget it.  Come on, Jack."

Jack started off down the trail and Bob followed, keeping his head
turned and his gun trained on the man until they were some hundred
feet away.  Then he quickened his pace and quickly caught up with
Jack who was some distance ahead.

"Talk about your minutes of suspense," he said.  "When that guy
dodged back I expected to feel that sting of a bullet any second."

"So did I, but I reckon Lucky must have made a clean sweep of them,"
Jack declared.

"Well it sure saved our lives."

"You said it.  But do you think they'll follow us?"

"There's no telling.  I reckon they're a bit of a coward when the
cards are stacked against them."

"And Lucky sure stacked 'em that time," Jack chuckled.

"Unless they find a gun which he overlooked I don't see, but we're
safe enough.  All we've got to do is to be on our guard every minute
of the time."

"You bet."

While talking they had been hurrying along as rapidly as possible and
in a few minutes they had caught up with Lucky.

"They no follow?" he asked.

"I hardly think so," Bob told him.  "I tried to make in plain to him
that it would be dangerous to do so."

"Injun mebby ought not come on leave white boy thar but--"

"You did exactly the right thing," Bob assured him.

"Injun ver' sure he geet all um gun."

"And I reckon you did."

"Oui."

"Do you reckon they'll follow us?" Jack asked.

"No can tell."

"They'll follow us."  Mr. Lakewood made the last statement in a tone
that left no doubt as to his feelings in the matter.

"Why do you think so?" Bob asked

"Because they're scared to death of that man, Long."

"Where is he?" Bob asked eagerly.

"He left two days ago for town with a load of furs."

"On a dog sled?"

"Yes."

"It's rather strange that we didn't meet him."

"But you came up by the river didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Then that's why you didn't meet him.  You see there's another trail
back from the river and, as it's a bit shorter, he probably took it."

"Then he can't get back for at least three days more can he?" Bob
asked.

"It'll probably be four at the least, as he'll stay in town for a day
to rest the dogs and to fill up on booze."

"Then I reckon we don't need fear anything from him."

"No, I don't think so."

They had not stopped while talking, but had kept on at a slow pace
but now Lucky snapped his long lash and the dogs sprang forward at a
smart trot.

"We geet on ver' queek now," he said.

While there was no moon the sky was studded thickly with stars and,
in the north great streamers of light flashed from horizon to zenith
giving them plenty of light to travel by.  Hour followed hour and the
boys were beginning to wonder if Lucky was never going to stop for a
rest and for breakfast when he finally ordered the dogs to halt in
the middle of a large open space the first they had encountered for
some time.

"We eat," he announced.

"You bet we'll eat," Jack assured him.

"Have go some ways geet wood but no dare stop whar woods thick.  Bad
mans may be follow."

"We'll get the wood all right," Bob said as he and Jack started for
the edge of the clearing after Lucky had pulled an axe from the pack
and handed it to them.

They were fortunate in finding a dead tree almost at once and inside
of half an hour from the time they had reached the place a fire was
sending its dancing flames into the darkness.  They still had left
three of the fish Jack had caught and soon they were sizzling in the
frying pan while beside it a pot of potatoes was boiling.

"Reckon we'll have to omit the dessert," Jack chuckled as he turned
the fish.

"Who wants dessert for breakfast?" Bob laughed.

"Is this breakfast?  It's dark so much of the time up here that it's
hard to tell which is which."

Lucky, as soon as he had fed the dogs, had found another bottle of
malted milk and their uncle sat by the fire, slowly sipping the
beverage.

"Best thing I ever tasted," he told them.

"If that's good just wait till you get some of this fish," Jack
laughed.

"I suppose you are wondering how I came to be in that fix," Mr.
Lakewood said as, a little later, they started to eat.

"We sure are," Bob assured him.  "But you'd better wait till you get
a bit of your strength back before you tell us about it."

"This food is putting strength into me at the rate of a mile a
minute," he laughed, "and I'm plenty strong enough to talk.  Besides
I'll cut it short."

"And we'll be glad to hear about it," Bob assured him.

"Well, you probably know all about why I started up this way so I
won't go into that.  Oh yes, I was warned as to what kind of a man
Long is, but somehow I was drawn to him and didn't believe half that
was said against him.  But now I know it was all true and more.  He's
a rascal if ever there was one.  Everything went all right for
several weeks except that we didn't find any gold.  That didn't worry
me particularly as I came up here more from a love of adventure than
for the sake of the gold.  You see, I've got more money now than I
know how to spend, not that I mean to brag about it, you understand,
but I've always loved to hunt for gold and other things.  But our
failure to find any gold seemed to be gradually changing Long's
nature.  He became morose and actually abusive at times.

"I stood it for some time and then one day told him what I thought of
his actions and that, unless he cut it out, we'd part company.  Well,
he seemed to go almost crazy and, to make a long story short, he
finally blamed me for bringing him up here and swore that I must sign
over to him my interest in a very valuable gold mine in Colorado.  Of
course I refused and he knocked me down with his fist when my back
was turned.  I struck my back somehow in falling and have been nearly
helpless ever since although it's been getting better all the time
and is nearly well now."

"But what's his connection with those breeds?" Bob asked as he
paused.  "I suppose they're trappers."

"Yes, they're trappers and mighty good ones, judging from the stack
of pelts they've taken so far this year.  But, as to Long's
connection with them, I only know that he has some sort of hold on
them and that, strange as it may seem, they're scared to death of
him.  We stayed in that cabin you probably saw about half way between
here and Arctic City for several weeks and then he brought me up
here.  I don't know why.  We had been there about two weeks and the
breeds were kind enough to me when he wasn't around, but he tried in
every way he could to force me to sign that paper.  Why he even beat
me with a whip.  Finally he declared that I'd not get another
mouthful of food till I signed it.  That was five days ago."

"And you've been tied up since then?"

"Every minute."

"The brutes."

"You mean brute.  The breeds are really not so bad.  Two or three of
them are what you'd call good fellows and I know they wanted to help
me but they didn't dare."

"Not even after he'd gone?"

"Not even after he'd gone.  I suspect that they thought he might cut
short his trip or get back sooner than they expected and catch them
if they did for me what he'd ordered them not to do.  Oh, he owns
them body and soul all right but, as I said before, I don't know how
or why."

"I reckon it's lucky we got there about the time we did," Jack
grinned.

"It saved my life for I'd have died before I'd have given in to him.
Oh, I know that sounds foolish and I reckon it is, but I'm made that
way and can't help it."

By this time they had finished eating and Lucky declared that they
had better be on their way.  The Indian had not said a word while Mr.
Lakewood had been telling his story, but the boys knew that he had
not missed a sentence and that he was deeply impressed.  Mr. Lakewood
asked if they had an extra pair of snow-shoes, declaring that he was
strong enough to walk, but neither the boys nor Lucky would listen to
it and he finally consented to ride a little longer.




CHAPTER XIV.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

It was about an hour later when, as they were passing through a
particularly thick bit of woods, Lucky spoke softly to Bob, who was
striding close by his side.

"You drive heem leetle while?"

"Sure."

"Injun go back leetle piece.  Want see any them breed follow."

"All right, but you be careful now."

"Oui.  Injun be ver' careful."

Jack was walking some distance ahead of the team and it was a half
hour later when he glanced back and missed the Indian.

"Where's Lucky?" he asked after waiting for the team to catch up with
him.

Bob told him where the Indian had gone and for what purpose and Jack
agreed that it was a wise move but added:

"He ought to be catching up with us pretty soon don't you think?"

"I'm giving him an hour and he's only been gone about half that time."

"I imagine he can take care of himself," Mr. Lakewood added.

"He can if anyone can," Jack agreed.  "But you've got to remember
that, if they're all following us it's six to one."

"But the one is armed," Bob reminded him.

"I know but how do you know that they might not have found a gun or
two?"

"Who's hanging crepe now?" Bob asked.

"I'm not, only we don't want to take too much for granted, not this
trip we don't."

Since the Indian had turned back Bob had permitted the dogs to
gradually lessen their pace as he did not wish to get too far ahead
and, for the past few minutes they had been moving at a slow walk.

"Think we'd better wait here?" he asked.

"I would," Jack replied.  "You see, if he doesn't show up soon we'll
have to go back and see what's happened to him and the farther we go
on the farther we'll have to go back," he explained.

Bob at once ordered the dogs to halt and the willingness with which
they obeyed the word showed that they were far from rested.  There
was probably no stronger team in the state, but they had a heavy load
and for several hours Lucky had urged them on at a rapid pace so it
was not surprising that they were tired.

Another half hour passed and they were on the point of turning back
when, without warning, the Indian stood before them.

"Gee, but I'm glad you're back," Jack declared.

"We were beginning to think you had been captured," Bob added.

"Injun no geet caught."

"But did you see any of the breeds?" Bob asked.

"Non, no see um."

"Then I guess they decided to take my advice."

"Oui, I t'ink so.  Injun go back three, four mile, no see um."

"Then you think we're safe as far as they are concerned?" Mr.
Lakewood asked.

"Oui, I t'ink so."

They traveled at a slow pace until noon when they stopped to cook
dinner and to give the dogs a couple of hours rest, and at four
o'clock Lucky announced that they would make camp for the night.

"We come seexty mile an' dog heem heap tired," he said.

"And they've got nothing on me at that," Jack told him.

"Same here," Bob added.

"And I haven't walked a foot of the way," their uncle complained.

"No mind that," Lucky told him.  "You geet walk 'nough time we heet
Nome."

Seven o'clock found them ready to turn in with the exception of Bob
who was to stand the first watch.  They had decided to divide the
night into three watches of four hours each and Bob was to take the
first.  Mr. Lakewood had insisted on taking his turn but the others
had ruled him down, declaring that he needed the sleep and rest and
finally he had reluctantly given in.

"But beginning tomorrow I want it distinctly understood that I'm
going to do my share of the work," he told them.

At eleven o'clock Bob called the Indian, who was to take the second
watch and reported that nothing had happened.  His watch also passed
without incident as did Jack's and seven o'clock found them once more
on the trail all, including the dogs, well rested and in high spirits.

If was about two o'clock when Jack, who was some distance ahead and
out of sight of the others because of a clump of bushes, suddenly
appeared running back.

"What's up?" Bob asked aware that something had happened.

"There's a dog team coming this way," he told them.

"How far away?"

"Must be nearly a mile.  There's a big open space just ahead and he's
about half way cross it."

"How many men did you see?"

"Only one."

"Then it must be Long."

"That's what I think."

"What'll we do?" Bob asked turning to Lucky.

"We go 'long, meet heem in open."

"But I'd better keep out of sight," Mr. Lakewood proposed.

"Oui, that bon plan.  You geet on sled an' cover all up an' heem no
see you till we geet ready," Lucky agreed.

Mr. Lakewood had refused to ride except at short intervals where the
going had been exceptionally good, but now he quickly took off the
extra pair of snow-shoes and got on the sled, and the Indian covered
him up with a blanket so that one would never have suspected that the
sled bore human freight.

"You breathe all right?"

"Sure."

"Then we go.  Mush."

As they swept out into the open space they saw the other team coming
at a rapid pace and not more than a quarter of a mile away.

"That Long," Lucky assured them.

"Hello, Lucky, what you doing up here?" Long sang out as soon as he
was in easy speaking distance.

"We on trip," the Indian told him.

"Where you been?" was the next question, and it was plain that he was
much disturbed in his mind at meeting them.

"Up nor'."

"How far?"

"Some way."

"Did you see my gang of breeds?"

"Oui."

"Hope they treated you all right."

"Oui."

"That's good.  But, tell me, what are you up here for?"

"We come hunt for man."

"Whatman?"

"Heem name Lakewood.  Deese boy heem nephew."

"You mean Silas Lakewood?"

"Oui."

"But he started back for Nome more'n six weeks ago.  You knew he came
with me, didn't you?"

"Oui."

"We came on a prospecting trip, but we didn't find a thing and he got
cold feet.  I wanted him to keep on with me up to my trapping camp,
but he wouldn't do it and so I had to let him go.  He ought to have
got back to Nome long before you left."

The man was trying his best to put a lot of concern into his voice.

"Heem no geet thar."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear it but, after all, it's none of my business."

"I think it is."

The words came in a loud tone from the sled as Mr. Lakewood threw the
blanket off and got to his feet.

"You!"

"Yes, it is I."

"But how--how--"

"Never mind how," Mr. Lakewood interrupted.  "I'm here and do you
know what I'm going to do to you?"

"No, but seeing it's four to one, I suppose you'll take me back and
file a complaint against me."

"And that's where you're wrong.  Bob," he said turning to the boy,
"cover him with your gun.  Now, Jack, you frisk him," he ordered as
soon as Bob had obeyed.  "Now you can put up your gun," he added
after Jack had taken two revolvers from the man's belt.  "Long, you
struck me once when I wasn't looking and in falling I hurt my back, a
fact which put me in your power for a long time.  But the back's well
now and I'm going to give you the sweetest licking you ever had in
your life.  Then you can go your way and I'll go mine and the score
will be settled."

The boys started to remonstrate, but their uncle stopped them.

"No, it's no use.  I never had much use for the law when it came to a
thing of this sort and this is a pleasure I've been promising myself
for a long time."

As he spoke he had removed his heavy coat and now he ordered Long to
do the same.

"I give you my word of honor," he told him, "that this fight will be
between you and me alone and if you get the best of me you can go on
your way and I'll never take any action against you for what you've
done to me."  Then, turning to Lucky and the boys, he ordered: "Don't
one of you interfere whatever happens."

"Heem one--what you call--game sport," Lucky whispered.

"I'll say he is," Bob and Jack both agreed.

Long was several inches taller than his opponent and the boys knew
that his height would give him a big advantage especially in the deep
snow.  But they were soon to learn that their fears were entirely
without foundation.  The lanky trapper undoubtedly would have been
able to give a good account of himself pitted against almost any one,
but he was no match for Silas Lakewood.  Although nearing his
fiftieth year he had always kept himself in the prime of condition
and, as Jack after told Bob, what he did not know about boxing simply
did not exist Three minutes after the contest started Long knew he
was licked, but he had grit enough not to beg for mercy and he got
none.

As Mr. Lakewood had promised the licking was thorough and most
beautifully administered, as Jack put it, and when it was over one of
Long's eyes was closed completely and his face was battered almost to
a pulp, but he was not seriously injured.

"I didn't want to hurt him so that he couldn't travel," Mr. Lakewood
explained as he drew on his coat.

"You sure do--what you call heem--one bon job," Lucky declared.

As for Long, he stood by his sled slowly wiping the blood from his
face.  "I hope you're satisfied," he grunted.

"I am, perfectly and, so far as I am concerned, the incident is
closed."

"And you'll not take action against me?"

"I reckon I've taken action enough," he smiled.  "No, I'll never
bother you if you keep away from me."

"Can I have my guns back?"

"No.  And we're going to see if you have a rifle and if you have
we're going to take that too."

"But--"

"No buts about it.  I don't trust you not for a minute and we're not
going to take any chances.  You may as well know that we have all the
guns of your friends which probably explains why they are not
following us.  And for that matter they may be and we figure that
should you meet up with them and had a gun you'd be too dangerous.
No, we'll leave the guns at Pete's store when we get back and you can
get them any time."

Long made no further remonstrance and they searched his sled finding
a rifle which they added to the others beneath their pack.

"So long," Mr. Lakewood cried as Lucky started his team.

But Long, who had already started made no reply.

"I guess he's sore," he chuckled.

"His face must be anyhow," Bob laughed.

"Gee, but you did it easy," Jack declared as he looked at his uncle
with admiration in his eyes.

"And I'll bet my old hat you both thought I'd get licked," he laughed.

"Well, you see, he's so much taller than you," Bob said
apologetically.

"But size doesn't always count, you know."

"Don't we?" Jack laughed

"When we get back you'll have to teach me some of those blows," Bob
said.  "I thought I knew something about boxing, but after seeing you
the conceit is all knocked out of me."

"I'll teach you all I know gladly," his uncle promised and added:
"and when I get time I'll tell you how I just missed being a prize
fighter."

It was shortly after dark one afternoon about ten days later that
Lucky halted his team in front of Pete Slinger's store in Nome.  They
had made the return trip without noteworthy event.  Long's gang of
breeds as well as the man himself, evidently having decided to let
well enough alone.

As they entered the store, Pete came from the office to meet them
but, as he was at the same time, reading a book he did not see who it
was until he was close to them.

"Well, begorra, an' it's yerselves, so it is an' ut sure is a sight
fer sore eyes ter see yer.  An' yer found yer uncle, eh?" he added as
he caught sight of Mr. Lakewood who entered the store last.

"We sure did," Bob laughed as he grasped the man's hand.  "You know
him don't you?"

"Sure.  It's meself as knows him.  An' now tell us all about ut."

"But where can I leave these things?" Mr. Lakewood asked as he dumped
an armful of rifles and revolvers on the counter.

"Fer the luv of Mike, whar did yer pick up the arsenal?" Pete gasped
as he shook hands with Mr. Lakewood.

"That's a part uv the story," Mr. Lakewood smiled.  "When you get
time we'll be glad to tell you all about it."

"Whin I git time, eh.  Sure an' it's meself as would like ter ask why
I haven't got time right now," and, striding to the door, he turned
the key in the lock and led the way back to the office saying: "This
store is closed fer business till I get that story."

The story was soon told and when Bob, who, at Mr. Lakewood's request,
had acted as story teller for the party, had finished, Pete burst but
with:

"Sure an' it's meself as knew thot man Long was a bad one but I niver
thot as how he was thot bad.  I told yer not ter go up thar wid him
yer remember."

"Yes, I know you did," Mr. Lakewood assured him.

"Oh, but it's meself as would have liked ter have seen thot fight."

"You missed a good one let me tell you," Jack told him.

"And how soon can we get a boat for Seattle?" Bob asked a few minutes
later.

"Cap'n Dick got in two days ago an' I reckon he'll be goin' out aboot
day after ter-morrow an' it's barely possible he'll let yer go
along," Pete grinned.

They found Captain Blake on board his ship an hour later and the
reunion between the friends was warm indeed.  The captain confirmed
Pete's statement that he would sail the next day but one and assured
them that he would be most happy to have them as passengers.

"We ought to get to the ranch in time for Christmas," Jack declared.

"Sure you will if we have a fair trip down the coast," the captain
assured them.  "But have you wired your father?"

"What do you know about that?" Bob asked.  "Never thought of it, but
I'll go right up town and attend to it."

Two days later, after an affectionate parting with Lucky, who, in
spite of his protests was obliged to accept a handsome present in
addition to his wages, from Mr. Lakewood and the boys, they sailed
out of the harbor just as the sun was peeping over the edge of the
ocean.

"We'll have to come up here again sometime," Jack declared as he
stood leaning on the rail for a last hand wave to Pete Slinger who
was waving them good bye from the wharf.

"Maybe we will sometime," Bob said as he too waved good bye.



THE END.











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