“Indians.”
That was all Frank said, but it was sufficient. Over the faces of Mr. Hampton, Farnum and the two men, Dick and Art, came looks of alarm.
“In camp,” asked Jack, a sudden thought striking him. “Maybe they’re just visitors.”
But Farnum shook his head decisively, before Frank could reply.
“The only Indians in this country hate the white man,” he said. “They have had some cause, goodness knows. But the point is, they hate us.” Turning abruptly to Frank, he said:
“Do they know where we are? Were you seen?”
“I was approaching our camp from this side,” said Frank, who had recovered his speech. “I was in search of a handkerchief, for I’ve got a little cold, and found I did not have one with me. Anyway, my feet made no sound on the pine needles, and I was screened from the camp by the trees. Suddenly,as I neared the last fringe, I saw a dozen Indians or more steal out of the trees on the other side of the clearing. They fell upon our belongings and started going through them. I hurried away to warn you.”
“Quick,” said Farnum, “there is no time to lose. We are seven and all armed. They saw us depart and probably thought this was a grand chance to rifle our camp. Waited a while to see if we were coming back at once. I imagine they are just thieves. Well, we’ll give them a lesson. Come on.”
Mr. Hampton laid a detaining hand on Farnum’s arm.
“Even if they are thieves,” he said. “We want no bloodshed. Shoot over their heads, if shooting is necessary.”
Farnum’s face fell.
“All right, sir,” he said. “Just as you say. But we’ll have to hurry, or they’ll get away with everything and escape in our canoes. Then we would be out of luck, indeed.”
With beating hearts, the party stole back through the trees, spread out with intervals of several yards between each. Dick and Art, who never stirred anywhere without their rifles with them, being old-timers who knew what it meant to be separated from their weapons in this wild land, were on the ends of the line. The boys had left their rifles behind,as had Mr. Hampton. Farnum, however, had brought his, and held the middle position. The other four were armed with their revolvers.
As they neared the fringe of trees forming the last rampart between them and camp, crouching behind tree trunks as they stole forward, they could see a group of Indians still busy over their disordered luggage, which had been opened and tossed about near the fire. Another group was at the water’s edge, loading the canoes which had been drawn up on the sand.
“Just in time,” thought Jack.
Then his eye was caught by a picturesque figure of a man emerging from the little tent which Mr. Hampton employed, because he was a sufferer from rheumatism and wanted some shelter to keep off night chills in case they were late in getting out of the country, but which at present frequently was not set up on their halts. The present occasion, however, a whim to sleep under canvas rather than the fir trees had possessed him, and the tent had been set up.
The man who caught Jack’s attention differed little in dress from Dick and Art, but about his head was bound a red bandanna handkerchief in piratical fashion, and this suggestion was increased by his long, drooping black mustaches. Jack could see him clearly, and thought that seldom had helooked upon a more villainous countenance. The fellow held a piece of paper in his hand, and was reading it with evident satisfaction.
A low exclamation from Farnum, next in line on his left, drew Jack’s attention. He looked at the latter, crouching behind a tree. Farnum’s eyes were ablaze. He had raised his rifle and was pointing it at the man before the tent. The next moment there was a report, the paper fell from the fellow’s hand, and he emitted a howl of surprise and pain.
“Just the hand,” Jack overheard Farnum say in a tone of vexation, as he prepared to fire again. But the other, seizing his wounded hand in the unwounded one, did not wait for the attack. Running low and in zigzag fashion, he darted for the cover of the trees on the other side of the camp, at the same time shouting an unintelligible warning to his companions.
“Fire,” shrieked Farnum, pumping another shot after the fleeing man, that kicked up the dirt at his heels. “That’s Lupo the Wolf. Shoot to kill.”
Jack shot with the rest, but remembering his father’s exhortation fired high. The volley was general. From the rifles of Art, Dick and Farnum came deeper notes of heavy weapons, while from the four revolvers of the others poured a succession of shots. It sounded as if an army were opening fire from the woods.
The Indians did not stay upon the order of their going. Those grouped about the luggage ran after the disappearing man Farnum had called Lupo the Wolf, while the other group at the canoes dashed away along the graveled bank of the stream. One, however, sought to launch the canoes into the swift current before departing, but his first effort was ineffectual, and any further attempt was stopped by a bullet from Mr. Hampton’s revolver, which winged him in an arm and sent him scurrying after his fellows.
“Dick, Art, here,” cried Farnum, peremptorily.
The two ran to his side.
“That was Lupo the Wolf,” Farnum explained rapidly, his voice betraying his excitement. “You can guess what that means?”
The others nodded, with compressed lips.
“I want you to trail them. Don’t run into danger, but see if their camp is nearby.”
With nods of understanding, the two frontiersmen were off at the run, not crossing the open camp, but circling it amongst the trees. Then Farnum turned to Mr. Hampton, and the boys crowding at his heels.
“That wasn’t just an attack from Indian thieves,” he said. “Mr. Hampton”—and his voice took on a solemn tone—“that was a blow from the enemy.”
“What do you mean?”
“They were desperadoes under the personal leadership of Lupo the Wolf.”
“And he?”
“He is a cross-breed, half Indian, half white, and the most notorious bad man in the north. He is known not only throughout the length and breadth of Alaska, but throughout the Yukon of Canada, too. From Ketchikan to Arctic City, and from Nome to Dawson, he has gambled, fought, knifed, murdered, and never been brought to book. Ah, you consider Alaska is law-abiding these days. To a certain extent, the towns and mining camps have grown more orderly and there are sheriffs ‘north of 54.’ But might still rules in the camps.”
Farnum spoke bitterly, and leaned a moment on his rifle. As it was evident, however, that he had not yet finished, the others did not interrupt. Presently he resumed.
“Lupo recruits his men from the fisheries. Men of the lowest type come there in Summer, in droves, lured by the high wages. They form temporary alliances with the native women. Then in the Fall, they depart. You can guess what the children of such lawless unions are like. They are cross-breeds, inheriting the most vicious and lawless characteristics of the human race. It is from them Lupo recruits his following.”
“But why should they be away over here, in thisunpeopled wilderness?” asked Mr. Hampton. “Unless—” He paused and looked questioningly at Farnum.
The latter nodded.
“That’s it,” he said. “Why? Unless, if you will let me finish for you, Lupo is on our trail. And that I believe to be the case. When Frank here first came with word of Indians in camp, I considered them merely raiders from some passing body of hunters. But when I found Lupo at their head, I knew better. The wonder to me is,” he said, growing thoughtful, “that he did not send men to trail us and kill us or take us prisoner.”
Mr. Hampton shrugged.
“Even the cunningest slip up now and then,” he said. “Perhaps his men wanted to loot first. And, anyway, they had only been here a few moments when, thanks to Frank, we were able to surprise them. Well, thanks to our good angel, we came off as well as we did. Nothing stolen, our canoes still here, nobody hurt.”
“Ah,” said Farnum, darkly, “we’re not out of the woods yet. If Lupo the Wolf is after us, well—there is trouble ahead.”
While Mr. Hampton and Farnum turned in to take inventory to discover what, if anything, had been stolen, the boys went back to take down and pack their radio outfit. As it lay in the opposite direction from that taken by the Indians who, moreover, were being tracked by Dick and Art and could not double back without warning being given, it was considered safe for the boys.
When they returned to camp, they found the two frontiersmen ahead of them. These reported the Indian camp pitched some two miles in their rear and that, upon arrival, Lupo and his men had packed up and taken canoe on the back track.
“Now what does that mean?” asked Farnum, thoughtfully. “It is probable that Lupo has been behind us all the way, if what I suspect is true, namely that they have been trailing us. But why should they be fleeing now?”
“They can’t have been close to us all the time,Mr. Farnum,” said Bob, “or why weren’t we attacked before?”
Farnum nodded.
“That’s true enough,” he said. “It may be that Lupo started late and has been all this time catching up with us.”
Breaking a thoughtful silence, Mr. Hampton said:
“As a matter of fact, that seems the most probable explanation. The other side, Farnum, probably has a spy at Nome, of whom you are unaware. But the spy knows your identity. Your story of taking us into the wilderness to hunt may have deceived this spy. But then, later, word would reach him from Seattle of my identity. Not that it is commonly known. But if some traitor close to Anderson is trading on Farrell’s secret, my connection with Anderson would be suspected, especially as several years ago I worked with the Anderson oil crowd in New Mexico. So words would reach Nome to watch me. Then someone would start out on our trail.”
“And that someone was Lupo,” said Farnum. “A fine cutthroat.”
An earnest discussion followed. What did this turning back of Lupo the Wolf mean? Did he intend to stick to their trail, but at a greater distance in the rear? Or did he plan to encircle them andlie in ambush ahead? That his retreat was other than momentary, and meant he intended giving up their pursuit, nobody believed.
“Look here, Dad,” said Jack, during the course of this discussion, “don’t you consider it quite likely that Lupo intends to take us by surprise and attack us, rather than to retreat?”
Mr. Hampton nodded.
“I do, indeed, Jack,” he said. “A cutthroat such as Lupo would have brought his band of desperadoes here for only one purpose, and that is, to dispose of us. We were lucky this time by reason of the fact that they came upon our camp first, and stopped to loot. But from now on we shall have to be continually on our guard.”
“It’s a good thing, Mr. Hampton, that this is the long Summer, when daylight never fails,” said Frank. “That makes it easier to guard against a surprise attack.”
“Yes,” Mr. Hampton agreed, “that makes it easier. But from now on, we shall have to be on the watch continually.”
He was silent a moment, thinking. Then he turned to the other members of the party, Farnum, Dick and Art being gathered about him as well as the boys, preparatory to the launching of the canoes, which were ready loaded.
“Are we making a mistake in letting these fellowsout of sight?” he asked. “Would it be better to set Dick and Art to watch them, and appoint a rendezvous where we can come together later?”
The two Alaskans were silent. Their faces, however, showed approval of the plan. Farnum struck his forehead with clenched fist in a characteristic gesture.
“Just what I would have proposed myself, if I had been awake,” he confessed. “Dick, Art, do you think you could pick up their trail?”
The two nodded.
“They won’t back track far,” said Dick. “Art an’ me can follow ’em afoot. That last portage is only four miles back, an’ we can catch up with ’em there. Now about where to meet up with you again?”
“None of us know this country,” said Farnum, “and so it will be difficulty to appoint a rendezvous. But, look here. Lupo undoubtedly intends to continue our pursuit, and won’t let our trail go cold. Consequently, you will be near us. I think the best plan will be to report to us at every camp. One of you can keep watch on Lupo while the other brings in a report.”
“Good enough,” said Dick, the more loquacious of the pair. “Look for us at tomorrow’s camp.”
Supplied with bacon and a little flour sufficient for a meal or two, guns at the trail, the pair struckswiftly on the back trail, disappeared among the trees at the bend and were gone from sight.
“All right, boys,” said Farnum. “Let’s get going. Can you manage your canoe all right by yourselves?”
Mr. Hampton laughed.
“I think they can scrape along, Farnum,” he said. “Probably we’ll be asking one of them to help us before long. Well, come on.”
Paddles dipped into the stream once more, the canoes shot away, and, with Farnum leading to set the course, the boys fell in behind. In the leading canoe, as the two men settled down to the stroke a low-voiced conversation began that lasted a long time. What Mr. Hampton and Farnum were saying could not be heard, for the gap between the two canoes, though not great, was considerable. Moreover, they spoke in low tones. But the boys sensed an undercurrent of anxiety felt by both the older men. As for themselves, however, they were not worried. On the contrary, the excitement of finding themselves trailed had brightened them wonderfully.
“Old expedition was getting too monotonous, anyway,” said Bob presently.
“Oh, I suppose you’ll want to challenge the best Indian wrestler now, won’t you?” said Jack, in a tone of mock seriousness.
“Yes, Bob, why didn’t you go back with Dick and Art and send in your challenge?” asked Frank, in the same jollying manner. “You know you haven’t been in a match with anybody for some time. Here was your chance, and you went and let it slip away from you. But, don’t worry, perhaps the Indians will return. Who knows? You may even have a chance to exchange courtesies with no less a personage than Lupo the Wolf himself.”
The big fellow grinned, but made no reply. And so the two canoes swept on between the low banks of the stream, one weighted with anxiety, the other filled with light-heartedness. The boys were not simpletons. They realized, indeed, that they were in a precarious situation. They were deep in the far northern wilderness. An enemy of superior numbers dogged their heels. In all that vast country, was none to whom they could look for help. But, for all that, they saw no occasion to worry. It was not the first time in which they found themselves in a ticklish situation. They had come unscathed out of other perils, even winning some honor in the encounter. They would do the same again. Thus they put the matter to themselves.
Hour after hour passed, during which period they twice encountered slight rapids, up which they waded with the canoes instead of portaging. All were tiring rapidly, for not only was their numberreduced by the absence of Dick and Art, and the work made correspondingly heavy, but in addition they were traveling now on reserve strength, as prior to making the last camp they already had done a big day’s work.
Farnum, however, pushed ahead until at the end of four hours of travel they came to the shore of a small lake. Here, in a secluded cove, convenient to the stream on which they had been traveling, they were about to make camp, when Frank approached Mr. Hampton and Farnum and indicated an island a half mile away.
“Isn’t that smoke over there?” he asked, pointing.
Farnum stared, and in a moment his keen eyes confirmed Frank’s observation. Mr. Hampton put up the field glasses which he always carried strapped to him, and also saw the smoke. But he saw something more—a skin kayak drawn up on the shore of the island.
“Hard to tell from that what sort of man is camping out there,” said Farnum, when informed of the kayak. “Everybody uses ’em in this country—Indian, Eskimo, and the occasional prospector. That smoke doesn’t indicate a big fire. Must be only one man, or maybe, two. Let’s investigate. If we decide to make camp out there, well, that island would be a good place and it would be hard to surprise us there if we kept guard.”
Once more, paddles were plied, and the two canoes cut diagonally across the waters of the lake towards the island. As they approached, Farnum raised his voice in a hail. A moment later an answering shout came back. Then a figure stepped from the trees to the little stretch of sand upon which the kayak was drawn up and stood, watching their approach, hand shading eyes against the glare of the sun, head bare.
“Great Godfrey’s ghost,” exclaimed Farnum in a low voice, turning his head slightly to address Mr. Hampton, “it’s a policeman.”
“What?”
“A member of the Northwest—of the Canadian Mounted Police.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know. But we’ll soon find out.”
“Welcome, strangers,” said the other, a tall bronzed man, as they approached. “Just in time for a snack.”
He advanced to the water’s edge, and stood ready to help. Farnum’s appraising eye took in the approach. Shoal water and a sandy beach! He decided to drive the canoe up on the sands. Shipping his paddle, he leaped from the bow into the water, as the forefoot of the canoe grated lightly. Relieved of his weight, the canoe rose at the bow and sank at the stern under Mr. Hampton. Seizing the bow,Farnum ran it up on the beach, the uniformed man lending a hand. A moment later, Jack, who was in the bow of the boy’s canoe, repeated the maneuver. The two craft were drawn up side by side.
“MacDonald’s my name,” said the Canadian simply.
“Know Arkell of Dawson?” asked Farnum.
“Know him well,” said the other. “One o’ the best on the Force.”
“Friend of mine,” said Farnum.
The two clasped hands warmly. Then Farnum introduced Mr. Hampton and the boys. MacDonald led the way to a sheltered spot among the trees, where a fire burned.
“Just about to broil some fish,” he said. “Lucky there’s plenty. I’m crazy about fishing,” he continued, “and when they bit here I pulled out mor’n I could use. Was wonderin’ what to do with ’em when I heard your hail. Guess I don’t need to worry about that any longer.”
As he spoke he busied himself about preparations for dinner, and soon an appetizing odor of frying fish rose to assail the twitching nostrils of the hungry boys.
“Suppose I get another pan and help, sir,” proffered Bob.
His comrades laughed, for the big fellow’s appetite was proverbial among them. MacDonald nodded with agrin of understanding. Bob tore back to the canoes, and soon returned with a pan in hand. In a short time the fish were fried, and all hands fell to right heartily.
“Long way off your beat, aren’t you?” asked Farnum, of MacDonald, as they ate.
The other nodded. Then he regarded them sharply.
“Same to you,” he said. “First white men I’ve seen in many days.”
Mr. Hampton read a challenge in the straight blue eyes under the grizzled brows, and met it promptly.
“Yes, and I’ll tell you why we are here,” he said. “I think our meeting with you was providential. If you have been in this country long, you may have heard something that will help us. At any rate, here’s our story.”
Whereupon, he proceeded to relate the reason for their presence. He made a clean breast of it, keeping back nothing, telling MacDonald of the alleged oil discovery by Farrell and Cameron, Cameron’s death, Farrell’s return as guide to Thorwaldsson’s expedition, and their presence now in an attempt to trace the missing men.
“So that’s that,” said MacDonald. “So that’s the reason for Thorwaldsson’s ‘Lost Expedition.’ And it was into this country he come! Well, well.”
In conclusion, Mr. Hampton told of their recent adventure with Lupo the Wolf. MacDonald manifested keen interest. His hand, as he poured tobacco into a pipe, shook slightly, and he spilled a little of the precious tobacco.
“You ain’t heard of it likely,” he said. “You wouldn’t. But this Lupo killed my partner on the Force, an’ I asked the Inspector to let me go after him myself. I followed him in from Dawson an’ lost his trail several days ago. Now, well—”
MacDonald averted his face, rose and walked down towards the lake shore, and the others respected his evident desire to be alone and did not follow.
“Out after Lupo single-handed,” whispered Frank. “And the desperado surrounded by all his men, too.”
Farnum nodded.
“That means nothing to the Mounted,” said he.
So tired were all members of the party after their unexpected exertions of moving camp and trekking on, coming at the end of a day filled with fatiguing labor, that now a haven had been reached and they had relaxed from their tension, they were ready to go to sleep at once. First, however, preparations had to be made not only to keep guard but to keep watch also for Dick and Art. Although the latter did not know definitely, of course, where they were encamped, yet it would not be difficult for them to follow the trail at least to the shore of the lake.
“Look here,” said MacDonald, returning to join the conference, “I’m not near as tired as the rest of you. I’ll keep watch for your friends for a couple of hours while the rest of you get some sleep.”
“All right,” said Farnum, gratefully, “that is, if you promise to wake me at the end of two hours. I can use a little sleep right now.”
“Turn in, then,” said MacDonald. “Thesespruces give you enough shade. And, anyway, I guess you don’t need much inducement to go to sleep.”
“I could sleep right out in the open sun with my face turned up to the sky,” said big Bob, yawning. “Well, nighty night, folks.”
Nothing occurred during MacDonald’s watch, and at the end of the two-hour period he awakened Farnum, in keeping with the agreement.
“Thought some of letting you sleep on,” he said. “But, to tell you the truth, I been travelin’ hard myself, and need a little sleep, too.”
“Right,” said Farnum. “I’d have been peeved if you hadn’t waked me.”
Several hours later, Farnum keeping lonely vigil among the bushes by the lake shore, descried a canoe shoot out of the mouth of the stream down which they, too, had come and swing into the lake. At first, as only the bow of the canoe appeared, he was startled, believing Lupo’s Indians already were on the trail. But a moment later, with relief and yet surprise to see them there, he made out the two figures in the boat as those of Dick and Art.
The pair rested on their paddles a moment, scanning the shore and also, Farnum noted, apparently casting anxious glances behind them. He was too far away, however, to see whether that were really the case. Farnum realized that, withthe skin kayak belonging to MacDonald now drawn safely out of sight among the bushes, beside their own canoes, Dick and Art would not have the same indications pointing to the island that had he on arrival. Therefore, he stepped from the bushes and was just about to set his cupped hand to his mouth and call when the unexpected occurred.
Dick and Art already had dipped their paddles into the water again and were making a wide swing with the evident intention of bringing the canoe parallel to the shore but some distance out, when Farnum’s startled eyes beheld another canoe arrive at the mouth of the stream behind them.
Action was as quick as thought. Dick and Art evidently had managed to obtain one of Lupo’s canoes and were being closely pursued. How closely, moreover, apparently they did not know. He must warn them, not only of his presence and of help close at hand, but also of the danger behind them. The course they were taking would bear them away from the island and, unless changed at once, would make it possible for Lupo to cut them off from their friends.
Although he had left his rifle at camp, as he stumbled out with sleep filling his eyes and dulling his brain, Farnum had his automatic swinging in the holster at his belt. Whipping it out, he shot three times in rapid succession.
At the sound, Dick and Art stared towards the island where Farnum, stepping into the open, was vigorously waving his hat to attract their attention. Lupo’s men also set up a shout, as they churned the water racing to cut off their quarry.
“What is it?” cried Frank, first of the aroused camp to gain Farnum’s side.
Then his glance took in the situation.
“Look here, those fellows might pick off Art and Dick before they can gain safety, even if they don’t succeed in cutting them off,” he said. “Let’s get our rifles, fellows, and open fire. A long shot, but they’re coming closer.”
“Anyway, it will make them draw in their horns,” said Farnum. “Tell you what, you boys run and get the rifles, and Mr. Hampton and I will launch one of our canoes. We’ll go out to help Dick and Art, if those fellows keep closing in on them.”
The three boys sped away, nothing loath, but when they returned they found Farnum’s plan unnecessary. As the two canoes had swept along, Dick, who was in the stern, suddenly had thrown down his paddle, and taken up his rifle, while Art had swung the canoe about with one dexterous stroke. Dick immediately had opened fire, and Art had followed suit.
The boys heard the shots as they ran down towards the shore. When they reached the sandthey found Lupo’s men already had faced about and were hurrying towards the mainland. One of their number evidently was hit.
“Main good shootin’ at long range a’ so quick after paddlin’,” commented MacDonald appreciatively.
Content with having beaten off their enemies, the two desisted, resumed their paddles and soon were within hailing distance. Greetings and congratulations were exchanged, and Dick and Art ran their canoe on shore. As soon as the first hubbub of exclamations died away, Mr. Hampton led the way to the camp. MacDonald put the coffee pot on the fire and between draughts of the strong, hot liquid Dick told their story.
After leaving the previous camp, they had gone back to where they seen Lupo break camp and start on the back trail. The meaning of this move, they had discussed. It seemed to them folly to believe Lupo was relinquishing the chase. They believed he would suspect Mr. Hampton and Farnum would spy on him, and was merely trying to throw them off guard by creating the impression that he was abandoning the chase. Therefore, they had gone warily, convinced that at the end of a short withdrawal Lupo would call a halt and prepare to ’bout face.
This suspicion proved correct. Some two milesfarther on they discerned the four canoes of the half-breed halted alongshore while Lupo harangued their occupants.
“We wanted to listen powerful bad to what he was a-sayin’,” explained Dick. “But we couldn’t get close enough. There wasn’t much cover near ’em and we had to lay hid where the trees was thickest, quite a ways off. Art and I lay there, a-strainin’ our ears but without any luck when suddenly somethin’ happens. Most of ’em was on shore, listenin’ to Lupo but in one canoe was one man a-huntin’ around like he’d lost somethin’.
“What it was we never did know. But suddenly, this fellow shoves off with a shout to Lupo. Lupo answers like he was agreein’. So then this fellow comes a-paddlin’ down stream like mad. As he goes by where we’re a-layin’ low, Art whispers to me: ‘This is where Lupo turns his gang around. That’s sure. Best thing we can do is to beat it back an’ warn our crowd. An’ my legs is tired. I’d like to let my arms work for me. Let’s go.’
“I nods, and without any more words we backed out and started down stream after that canoe. The fellow is goin’ like mad, which means he ain’t intendin’ to go far. He’s lost somethin’ or other and thinks it may be floatin’ on the water or, maybe is layin’ on shore where he touched. Anyway, that’s what we thought. We never did get to know. Forafter we’d made a bend in the stream and put some distance between Lupo and us, we decided it was no use runnin’ any farther.
“‘Here goes,’ said Art. And he let fly over the Indian’s head. That fellow didn’t wait for more. He just jumped out of the canoe an’ started swimmin’ for the other shore. So then Art give me his rifle an’ he swims out and brings in the canoe. Last we seen of that Indian he was streaking it back on the other bank. I got in and—well, here we are.”
MacDonald, who had listened in silence, suddenly interrupted:
“How many men has Lupo got with him?”
“A dozen.”
MacDonald looked at Mr. Hampton.
“You know why I want him,” he said. “For murder. And then there’s this raid on you. There are eight of us, includin’ these husky young fellows of yours. Will you help me capture him an’ his gang?”
Mr. Hampton looked thoughtful.
“But, MacDonald, what would you do with them? We can’t turn aside from our own object long? We couldn’t help you guard them. And you couldn’t get twelve or thirteen men back to your Post single-handed, especially if any of them are wounded.”
MacDonald’s face fell.
“Guess you’re right,” he said. “But when I thinko’ that skunk—murderin’ the best pal a man ever had—well, I see red, that’s all.” His head sank to his clenched hands and he sat on a fallen tree, staring moodily at the ground between his feet.
“Certainly is a problem, Mr. Hampton,” said Farnum, slowly. “If we don’t do something, Lupo will continue to hang to our trail as we proceed, a constant danger.”
“I know,” said Mr. Hampton. “Let me think.”
He, too, sat silent, staring meditatively at the ground.
The boys had been listening with interest. Now Frank nudged Jack, with whom he was standing by the fire, and whispered in his ear. Jack’s face brightened and he nodded.
“I’ll bet they have,” he whispered. “Ask MacDonald.”
Frank turned to the ranger.
“Mr. MacDonald, how far away is your Post?” he inquired.
MacDonald looked up puzzled, but answered readily enough.
“A good four hundred miles to the South.”
“Why do you ask, Frank?” Mr. Hampton wanted to know.
“Just a minute, sir, please,” begged Frank, once more turning to MacDonald. “And how many men are at the Post?”
“Captain and five men.”
“Oh, is that all?”
Frank’s tone was one of disappointment. MacDonald smiled slightly.
“People think the ‘Mounties’ must be as many as an army,” he said. “Well, we keep this wilderness clean with a handful. O’ course, when necessary, too, we can swear in deputies.”
“Have you got wireless at the Post?” asked Frank.
MacDonald nodded.
“Captain equipped us some time back,” he said. “All posts or forts, as we call them sometimes, have wireless now.”
“Good for you, Frank. I see what you’re driving at now,” said Mr. Hampton. “You—”
Frank nodded.
“Yes, sir. I thought if we helped Mr. MacDonald capture Lupo and his gang, we could call his Post by wireless and have them send men to help him take his prisoners in.”
“Now,” said Jack, “is the time that I wish I had my 20-kilowatt radio tube that I have been working on so long.”
Mr. Hampton, Bob and Frank nodded sympathetically. An enthusiast on radio, Jack had developed a number of new appliances. The latest of these was not yet completed. He had worked on it in the laboratories at Yale during the Winter and Spring. The lateness of his return to his classes, however, inasmuch as he did not arrive at college until after Christmas, due to the delay occasioned by his adventures in South America in search of “The Enchanted City of the Incas,” compelled him to devote most his time to catching up in his studies. He did not, therefore, have as much time to devote to laboratory experiments as he desired. As a consequence, the 20-kilowatt tube had not yet been perfected, when time came for him to depart for Alaska with his father.
Jack’s 20-kilowatt tube, when completed, would be the most powerful in the world, and he expected, moreover, to construct others of greater kilo-wattage. A 75-kilowatt tube had been produced in England, it is true, but it had not been found practicable. Jack’s tube was to be steel-jacketed and equipped with a water-cooling device, due to the heat produced when in operation. His big dream was that this tube, when used as an amplifier in conjunction with an alternator, would make trans-atlantic telephonic communication as common as cabling or wireless telegraphing.
“If I only had one of my 20-kilowatt tubes now,” he mourned, “we would be able to talk not only with Mr. MacDonald’s Post but with Dawson or even Nome.”
“Well, Jack,” said Frank, “it’s too bad. Just the same, let’s get busy. For, with our 50-watt oscillator tube set we will be able to communicate by telegraph up to 500 miles. And, as the Post is only 400 miles away, we can reach it easily.”
For sending up to 500 miles, the boys knew they could use either three or four 5-watt oscillator tubes in parallel, or one 50-watt oscillator tube. They had decided on the latter method, in making their preparations for departure in faraway Seattle. For one thing, and the biggest, transportation was the most important item. And the 50-watt tube set was themore compact. Quickly, then, with Mr. Hampton helping, they got out the various parts from their baggage and made the connections.
Farnum, the Northwest policeman, MacDonald, and Dick and Art, watched with puzzled interest and even awe as the four, working in unison, put together the aerial series condenser, the blocking condenser, the grid condenser, the telegraph key, the chopper, the choke coil in the key circuit, the filament volt-meter, the protective condenser in the power circuit, the storage battery and the motor generator.
Farnum and MacDonald asked questions, although Dick and Art were content to sit silent and watch, keen-eyed, as the construction work progressed. Several times, too, Dick arose and went to the water’s edge to keep watch against surprise. That any would be attempted for the time being, nobody believed, as they figured the enemy would consider them on guard.
As they worked, Jack explained for the benefit of the others. His description of how the low voltage current from the storage battery flowed into one of the windings of the generator and drives it as a motor thus generating higher voltage in the other winding both puzzled and interested them. By the time, the set was ready for use, Farnum, who was something of a mechanic by inclination, had a fairunderstanding of the set, but MacDonald, though interested, was bewildered.
“I’m fair beat,” he confessed. “Anyhow, just so you boys can make it work!”
“Oh, we’ll make it work, all right,” Frank assured him. “Well, now, to try to call the Post. What’s its call, Mr. MacDonald?”
“I happen to remember,” said MacDonald. “We were all so interested when wireless was put in that Captain Jameson gave us a little lecture on it. He said our call would be JSN, abbreviation for his name. We were to remember it, in case of need, when we were able to get to a wireless station. Well, this is a case of need.”
“I’ll say it is,” said big Bob. “Well, come on, fellows, who’s going to call?”
It was an honor or distinction that each was eager to have, yet each wanted to force it on the others. A friendly argument developed, to which Mr. Hampton, smiling, put an end.
“Look here, boys, we are wasting time. Suppose you draw straws for the privilege. You all know the Morse and Continental codes, so there is no question of ability involved. Here—” breaking three matchsticks into varying lengths and offering them—“take your choice. Longest wins.”
Frank drew the winning stick. The others laughed, clapped him on the back, and withoutmore ado he began pressing the key and sending out the signal.
“Is somebody on duty at the Post wireless station, do you think, MacDonald?” asked Mr. Hampton.
“Somebody there all the time,” the latter replied. “Captain Jameson has found wireless so useful in policing his vast district that he wonders how he ever got along without it.”
“Hurray,” shouted Frank, “listen. They’re answering.”
To those who understood the code, the answer was plain:
“JSN answering. Who are you?”
“MacDonald,” tapped off Frank, grinning mischievously.
The receptor sounded almost angry.
“Quit your kidding.”
“No, I mean it,” replied Frank. “This is MacDonald of the Mounted.”
“Prove it.”
“That’ll stump old Frank,” chuckled Bob, in an aside. But he was mistaken.
“All right,” replied Frank, confidently. “Do you know what my assignment is?”
“Yes,” answered JSN, impudently. “Do you?”
“I’m after Lupo the Wolf,” tapped Frank. “Now call Captain Jameson.”
“You’re not MacDonald,” replied JSN, “because he doesn’t know the code. But you must be speaking for him, for that’s right about his assignment. I’ll call Captain Jameson. You wait.”
“All right,” tapped Frank.
Then he turned to the eager MacDonald, who was itching to inquire what was occurring, but had restrained himself until he should be appealed to by Frank, in order not to interrupt. Like all men unfamiliar with telegraphy, whether wireless or by wire, he stood in awe of an operator, and believed it would be terrible, indeed, to interrupt that superior being. Frank took pity now on his curiosity, as well as on that of Farnum, Dick and Art, crowding behind him, and explained what had happened.
“And you actually got the Post?” asked MacDonald, doubt in his voice.
Frank nodded.
“My God,” said the big policeman. “Think of the weeks I spent toiling up here, and now you come along and talk across that distance without the loss of a minute’s time. Wonderful, well I reckon.”
“When Captain Jameson arrives,” said Frank, smiling, “I want you to stand close and I’ll translatewhat he says, and you help me with the replies, will you?”
“Won’t I be interrupting you?”
“Oh, no,” smiled Frank. “You just come close and wait until I speak. It’ll be all right. Well”—as the receptor began to click—“I guess this is Captain Jameson now. Yes,” with a nod, “it’s he, all right. He’s asking where you are, Mr. MacDonald.”
“Tell him I’m four hundred miles away and close on Lupo. Tell him about yourselves and the fight, and that we’re going to round up Lupo’s gang and ask him how soon he can send men to help me out with any prisoners we take, and if he can send any at all, and—”
“One minute,” said Frank. “I understand. Just wait a bit now, while I telegraph.”
To explain at length the details of that telegraphic conversation is unnecessary. Suffice it to say, that the situation was fully explained to Captain Jameson, and that the latter agreed to start a half dozen deputies under a Sergeant to MacDonald’s aid, as soon as he should hear again as to the outcome of the expedition against Lupo.
“It’ll take a while for the men to reach MacDonald,” said Captain Jameson. “But with game plentiful and the season open, he can camp untilthey arrive, and thus keep watch over his prisoners, providing he makes any. You people go ahead with your rounding up of Lupo’s gang, and then let me hear from you again.”
On that agreement, Frank finally closed the conversation, as there was nothing further to be said.
“MacDonald, I’ll agree to help you round up Lupo and his gang,” said Mr. Hampton.
They were all sitting in conference, so to speak, about the camp fire, over which Dick was busy broiling fish which he and Art and the boys had just pulled out of the lake. The appetizing odor made the nostrils of the three hungry boys twitch with anticipatory delight.
“Fine,” said the big ranger, “that’s the way I like to hear you talk.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Hampton, meditatively, “I’ve got a very good reason why we should cast in our lot and help you, even supposing Lupo flees and draws us off our course.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, it’s an easy enough one to guess. Lupo evidently is after us. That means that he is being paid by somebody to do us in, or at least thwart us in our search. I want to know who that somebodyis. And the only way to find out is to make Lupo prisoner and question him. Moreover, it is possible we may be able to learn something about the mysterious fate of Thorwaldsson and his expedition.”
Farnum had been listening closely. He nodded with satisfaction.
“Just what I was thinking myself.”
“You’re right, Mr. Hampton,” said MacDonald. “But such being the case, we’ll have to be mighty careful that Lupo doesn’t get shot, as then your prospective source of information would vanish.”
“True enough, MacDonald,” said Mr. Hampton. “We’ll all have to be on guard against that misfortune, for misfortune it would be.”
He raised his voice, calling the boys and Dick and Art to him. Then he explained how matters stood.
“As soon as we finish breakfast,” he said, “we’ll start, and you must all be very careful not to shoot Lupo, if it comes to a battle.”
As they ate breakfast, Bob who seldom spoke but always to the point, raised a question which had been puzzling him.
“Mr. Hampton, what will we do with all our outfit?” he asked. “And with our radio transmitter, especially? Shall we dismount it? Must we take all our outfit along?”
“It would be too bad to dismount the radio, afterour trouble in getting it erected,” said Mr. Hampton. “And to take all our outfit with us would be to hamper our movements. On the other hand, we can’t very well leave everything here, for some of Lupo’s men might slip away from the main body, in fact, they may already have done so, and they would put us in a terrible plight if they raided the camp, in our absence.”
There was silence for a minute or two, then MacDonald spoke.
“We can certainly travel faster without your outfit to hold us back,” he said, “especially if Lupo tries to run away. For then we could gain on him at the portages, by traveling light. Look here, Mr. Hampton, this island is easily defended. We’ve been going to the shore to keep watch on the mainland against surprise. But just a little ways through the trees is a little rise, a knoll, from which you can see the waters all around the island. One man alone could keep guard here.”
“But one man couldn’t keep off an attack in numbers,” objected Mr. Hampton.
“I don’t know,” said MacDonald. “With them high-powered rifles of yours, it might be done. They carry far, farther than any guns Lupo’s Indians and breeds will have. Anyway, two men certainly could manage to hold this place against all comers.”
“And three,” added Farnum, with a significant look at Mr. Hampton, “could do it even better.”
The boys again were at the fire some distance away, helping Dick broil more fish. Mr. Hampton looked at them. He understood the significance in Farnum’s tone.
“You don’t think they would be in danger here?”
“Less than they would be in with us, Mr. Hampton,” said Farnum, lowering his voice as the other had done.
Mr. Hampton considered. The proposal hinted by Farnum, namely, that the boys should be left at camp, tempted him. It was most assuredly true that they would be in far less danger than if they accompanied him against Lupo. And that appealed to him, appealed powerfully. He was grateful to Farnum in his thoughts for his solicitude for the boys’ welfare.
On the other hand, he knew them for resourceful in an emergency, and good fighters. And since the idea that information might be obtained from Lupo had come to him it had taken firm possession of his thoughts. Lupo must be captured. Would it not be folly to weaken their force by leaving three young huskies, each of whom, moreover, was a fine rifle shot, behind?
Besides, what would the boys say? If necessary, he could command and they would obey. But Mr.Hampton was not one to exercise his authority dictatorially.
“I confess I don’t know what to do, Farnum,” he said finally.
At that moment, a laughing hail from the boys announced the completion of the second batch of food, and their imminent return.
“Make it a post of honor and danger,” whispered Farnum, urgently. “Tell them the radio must be guarded, and the outfit, and that if we take these things along our movements will be so hampered that Lupo might escape. Tell them there is a big possibility, too, that some of Lupo’s gang may attempt to raid the camp while we are absent.”
The boys were so close at hand that Farnum desisted. Mr. Hampton nodded. As they ate, he broached the subject of leaving a guard in camp.
“Three of us ought to stay behind,” he added. “That will give sufficient protection for each other, and provide a sure safeguard against surprise. Also, that leaves five of us to go after Lupo. Four of us can go in that bigger of our canoes easily, without any baggage. It carried three of us, with baggage, so far, MacDonald can go in his kayak. So we can hit a fast pace, and make speed at the portages, if any are necessary.”
“Who do you intend to leave behind, Dad?” asked Jack quietly.
Mr. Hampton realized from his son’s tone that Jack understood his thoughts.
“Well, you three boys would be the natural ones to be selected,” he said.
“Oh, I say,” protested Bob.
“That’s not fair, Mr. Hampton,” cried Frank.
Jack was silent. He knew his father. Close association of the motherless boy with the older man since boyhood had attuned their minds. He understood how troubled his father was over the possibility of running them into danger. And he decided he would not add to his difficulties, but would keep quiet, although inwardly he felt dismayed at the prospect of “missing the fun.”
“You see how it is, fellows,” said Mr. Hampton, and he proceeded to elaborate on the theme furnished him by Farnum. “It’s a post of honor and danger combined.”
Bob and Frank, however, were not convinced. They started anew to protest But Jack silenced them.
“All right, fellows, let’s be sports,” he said. “If the older heads decide they don’t need us, we won’t force ourselves on them.”
“But, Jack,” cried Bob and Frank in chorus.
“No, I mean it, fellows,” said Jack. “Come over here with me, and I’ll tell you something.”
Drawing them out of earshot, he added:
“Don’t let us make it hard for Dad. He’s got troubles enough. He’ll feel a lot easier if we aren’t along. I know how you feel. I feel the same way about it. But let’s make it as easy for Dad as we can. Besides, there is something in what he said, after all. There is no guarantee that some of Lupo’s men won’t attempt to raid us. For my part, I believe some of them must be watching this island right now, and the minute they see the others safely out of sight, they’ll attack us. For they know our numbers, and they will realize the three of us are here alone.”
“All right,” grumbled Bob. “Have it your own way, let’s get some more to eat. I haven’t filled up yet.”
“This outdoor life makes me ravenous, too,” agreed Frank. “And I used to be such a dainty eater. Why, I just pecked at my food.”
“You mean you ate food by the peck,” said Bob. “For a little guy, you’re the heftiest eater I ever saw.”
“Little guy, is it?” cried Frank. “I like that.”
And without more ado, he made a flying tackle, his arms locking about Bob’s knees. The big fellow came down in the brush and Frank piled on top of him with a shout of glee.
“Come on, Jack. We haven’t had a good rough-house for a long time.”
Grinning, Jack joined in, and the three went rolling and threshing about the bushes like a trio of young bears.
At the fireside, Mr. Hampton’s worried look relaxed, and he grinned with enjoyment.
“It’s all right, now,” he said contentedly. “They’ll take their disappointment out in a grand wrestling jamboree. Well, let’s pack up a little grub and get ready to go.”
In no time at all, Mr. Hampton and his party were ready to set out. Of one thing they were reminded by Jack, the individual radio sets constructed along his own lines, the instrument of which was so small and compact it was contained in the panel of a ring.
“Only trouble with these,” Jack said, “is that you can receive but can’t transmit. However—”
“However,” his father interrupted, “that is all that will be necessary.”
“Why?” asked Farnum.
“It is hardly likely that the five of us will get into such a predicament that we shall fail to return,” explained Mr. Hampton. “But the boys may be attacked when we are gone, and may be placed in a bad position. Then they can call for us.”
“At least we could send out a hurry up call over those sets,” said Jack. “As for your calling us, well, that will be a little more complicated, Dad, but itcan be done, if necessary. I insist on your taking that army field set. It came in mighty handy in South America. It is no great job to set it up. And it weighs little. You are taking no other equipment, and you can afford to take it along. It won’t be in your way. Here it is, you see, all boxed up complete, handle on the box and everything.”
“Right, Jack,” said his father. “Now we can communicate with each other easily enough. Well”—looking about him—“are we ready?”
The others nodded.
“Then,” Mr. Hampton said, “I propose that we bring our canoes back through the trees, cross the island and make for the mainland on the other side.”
Farnum and MacDonald nodded agreement.
“This island is pretty long,” said MacDonald, “and it will screen our departure on the other side, in all likelihood. It is hardly likely, as a matter of fact, that we will be seen, for Lupo’s party has not shown itself since we beat off that canoe, and probably is somewhere back up that stream out of which your party came.”
“You think they cannot see the mainland on the other side of this island from there, Dad?”
“I don’t believe so,” said Mr. Hampton.
“Even if they do catch a glimpse of us,” suggested Farnum, “isn’t it probable they’ll believe we are pushing on? As a matter of fact, however, we’llland on the mainland, and carry our canoes inland and then up along the lake till we are out of sight, when we can cross again, I suppose that’s your idea, Mr. Hampton?”
“My idea exactly,” answered the other. “Well, let’s get the canoe and MacDonald’s kayak. They have been pulled well up into the bushes, and we can bring them across the island without detection easily enough.”
“Wait a minute, Dad,” said Jack, laying a detaining hand on his arm. “If they do see you crossing the channel to the mainland, on the other side of the island, they’ll know the whole party isn’t along, and will realize you aren’t leaving, but merely carrying out some maneuver.”
“Maybe, that’s what they will think, Jack. On the other hand, they might figure some of the canoes got across beforehand. Anyway, leaving by the back door, so to speak, is our wisest plan, I am sure. The channel to the mainland on the other side is only a narrow one, and the probabilities of our escaping detection are all in our favor.”
The largest of the canoes, together with MacDonald’s kayak were dragged back through the underbrush and carried across the island to be launched on the other side. Nor did Jack neglect to load the compact field transmitting set in the canoe, as the party pushed off. Then, amid farewells from bothsides, Mr. Hampton and his party set out for the mainland.
Jack watched the canoe and the kayak depart, with something of a sinking of the heart. The same feeling, he suspected, possessed his father. Neither, however, presented other than a brave and cheerful front. As for Bob and Frank, they had gotten over their disappointment at not being permitted to accompany the expedition, to a certain extent, and, cast for the first time since the start of the trip, on their own resources were beginning to enjoy the situation.
“First thing, fellows,” said Frank, as the party reached the mainland, hauled up canoe and kayak and struck into the trees, “first thing is to go to this knoll about which MacDonald spoke, and take a view of the field.”
“Yes,” said big Bob, “then let’s divide up into watches, so that the pair of us not drawn for the first watch can get some rest.”
“You certainly were born in the Land o’ Nod, Bob,” scoffed Frank.
“Yes,” said Jack, grinning, “if you’re as sleepy as all that, we’ll count you out right away. Frank and I will draw for the first watch, and you can hit the hay.”
“Not so fast,” said Bob. “I’ll take my chance with the rest of you.”
Meantime, they had been mounting the tree-covered hill to which MacDonald had referred and now, reaching the top, found that, despite its low elevation, it was still so much higher than the rest of the island and than the shores of the lake as well, that they commanded a sweeping view not only of the nearer shore to which Mr. Hampton had gone but also of the farther one whence they had come.
Not a sign of human occupation, however, was anywhere apparent. Eastward, although they knew Mr. Hampton and his companions could not have progressed far, yet the trees rimming the lake shore were sufficiently dense to hide any sign of movement. Westward, toward the farther shore, was a thick belt of trees about the mouth of the stream, thinning out farther along the shore in both directions. Neither among the trees nor on the glades, could they discern anybody although Jack, who had been thoughtful enough to bring along their field glasses, scanned the prospect through them a long time before passing them on to the others, who did likewise.
“Well, so far so good,” said Jack, with a sigh of relief. “Evidently, or so far as we can see, anyway, Dad and the rest got across undiscovered and now stand a fair chance of crossing the lake farther up undetected.”
“Maybe so,” said Frank. “Maybe, too, Lupo got discouraged and quit.”
“Retreated you mean?” asked Jack.
Frank nodded.
“Oh, you fellows are full of prunes,” said Bob. “Why should he quit now, just because we have added one more man to our forces? He’s hung to our trail a long time. That means he’s not going to quit in a hurry. No, we’ve got to keep our eyes open.”
“That’s right,” said Jack, thoughtfully, “It won’t do to get overconfident and relax our guard.”
“Just the same there’s no sign of trouble now,” said Frank. “And I’ve got a suggestion.”
“Don’t lose the idea,” said Bob, anxiously. “Hold on to it. Ideas are rare.”
“With some people yes,” said Frank, grinning. “Not with me.”
“Huh.”
Bob clutched at Frank, but the other wriggled out of his grasp.
“My idea,” he said, “is to take a plunge in the channel your father crossed, Jack. I’m hot and sticky and tired, and a swim would go fine just before I turn in and leave Bob on watch. What do you say?”
“So I’m to have the first watch, hey?” said Bob. “It’s been all decided, has it? Well, well. All right,run along, Frankie, me lad. I’m not so anxious for a swim. I’ll just start my watch here and now.”
“Bob, you’re a good sport,” said Frank, throwing an arm over the shoulders of his big chum, between whom and himself was a depth of feeling which seldom was expressed in words.
“Oh, run along and take your swim.”
Bob playfully shoved the pair of them down the hill. Laughing, they obeyed. As they disappeared among the trees, Bob selected a spot at the base of a spruce on the top of the knoll, sat down with the glasses in his lap and his eyes on the westward shore of the lake, where Lupo’s half-breeds had last been seen, and prepared to keep watch. His back was against the trunk of the tree, and he made himself as comfortable as possible.
It was a really comfortable position and, when one is tired and sitting idle, a comfortable position is conducive to drowsiness. It was so with Bob. He had had but little sleep in the last two days. He had worked hard. The air was warm and drowsy, as only the air of the short hot Summer of the north country, when the sun never sets, can be. Presently his head began to nod, and there was a buzzing in his ears as of the drowsy hum of bees. He caught himself, and sat bolt upright, rubbing his eyes vigorously with his fists. Then he leaned back against the tree trunk again, and again began tonod. This time, the jerk with which he awakened was longer in coming.
Bob got up and stretched.
“Mustn’t go to sleep,” he reflected. “Nothing in sight, though. Not much use to worry. Ho, hum.”
He resumed his seat. Imperceptibly, his eyes drifted shut. He sat through the transition period between sleeping and waking, unaware that he was yielding to slumber, merely pleasantly conscious of relaxed limbs and thoughts. Before he was aware his head nodded, his eyes closed, his chin touched his chest, and he slept.
Meanwhile Jack and Frank were thoroughly enjoying their plunge. The water was warm, there was no wind, and they swam, dived, floated to their heart’s content. Neither realized the passage of time until Frank, suddenly filled with compunction at their long absence, while Bob kept watch, scrambled ashore and looked at his watch, laid out on top of his clothes.
“Great guns, Jack,” he announced, “we’ve been gone an hour. Good old Bob. He was mighty nice about sending us off to swim while he kept watch, but you know he likes to swim, too. He’ll be thinking it’s a low trick on our part to stay so long. Maybe he’ll want to come and take a plunge himself, when one of us gets back to relieve him.”
Jack also had a guilty feeling and, as is the way with most of us, attempted to make excuses.
“He might just as well have come along,” he said. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
They were pulling on their clothes.
Suddenly they heard Bob’s voice raised in a distant shout, calling their names. Then followed a brisk outbreak of rifle shots.