Part 10 (1/2)

It was many minutes before he was calm enough to tell them the simple truth of the matter, which was, of course, that the wireless message was that one sent by the Doctor on the Aleutian Islands, telling of his intended journey Northward; also that this same doctor was a hated rival explorer, whom he had beaten a few years before; that he had not intended going North at this time, but this action of his rival made it imperative that he do so now. Finally, that the trading gasoline schooner, Gussie Brown, was frozen in the ice three hundred miles north of Conjurer's Bay and Great Bear Lake, and had an ample supply of gasoline.

”But after all, I guess we're beaten,” said the Major wearily. ”If we succeed in getting out of this sc.r.a.pe alive we'll be fortunate.”

”Cheer up! The worst is yet to come,” smiled Barney. ”Let's turn in.”

Two interesting problems awaited the party in the morning. Was the man who had been accidentally shot the night before the anarchist trader? If so, who was the person whose bones lay in the ruins? Was the infernal-machine a genuine affair, and if so, would it explode? While the Major was still brooding over his disappointment, the boys were so eager for these investigations that they quite forgot the affair of the wireless message.

The ident.i.ty of the dead man was soon established by papers found in his pockets. He was the trader. The skull found in the ruins was unmistakably that of an Indian. A break in this skull showed that the person had died a violent death and had not been caught by the fire. The conclusion the boys arrived at was that the trader had killed the Indian and had fled to the woods. The Indians in revenge had burned his trading station. That he had intended to destroy the explorers was beyond question. He had, therefore, met a well-deserved fate. His body was buried, Eskimo-style, on top of the ground, with stones piled over it to protect it from wolves.

When this work had been completed, the two boys took the infernal-machine down to the frozen surface of the lake where there could be no danger from an explosion, and connected it with wires which they laid along the surface from the steep, snow-buried sh.o.r.e.

”Must be twenty feet of snow in there!” exclaimed Bruce, as for the third time he lost his footing and slid to the bottom of the slope.

Presently they were well behind the ridge in the forest, and out of range of any flying splinters of machine or ice.

”I feel as I used to when I was a schoolboy, and hid with the rest of the gang out in the woods and shot off charges of gunpowder in a gas-pipe bomb,” grinned Barney, as he screwed one wire to a post of a battery.

”Now we'll--” he exclaimed breathlessly.

His last word was lost in the roar of a tremendous explosion. The sh.o.r.es of the bay took up the sound and sent it echoing and reechoing through the forest. Fine bits of ice came rattling down through the trees, while a great cloud of smoke and mist floated lazily over their heads.

”Whew! Some explosion!” murmured Barney.

Bruce was silent. His face was white.

”What's up?” asked Barney.

”Nothing. I'm all right,” Bruce smiled grimly. ”I was only thinking what might have happened yesterday.”

”Forget it,” grumbled Barney. ”C'mon, let's see the ruins.”

”Fis.h.!.+” exclaimed Bruce, as they emerged from the forest. And a.s.suredly there were fish in abundance. The thirty-foot wide pool, from which the ice had been blown, was white with them. There were salmon, salmon-trout, white-fish, lake-trout, flounders, and others the boys did not know.

Hundreds and hundreds of them, stunned by the explosion, floated on the surface only waiting to be harvested.

”We'll have to work carefully,” said Barney, starting forward. ”The ice is pretty well shattered. A plunge in that water, and the temperature at thirty below, wouldn't be pleasant, but I believe we can save every one of them. Get a pole.” He began cutting a large branch from a spruce tree.

Bruce followed his example.

”Now!” Barney exclaimed, preparing to slide down the bank. But he paused in surprise. The snow-bank, shattered by the blast, had gone tumbling down to the surface of the lake. And what was that protruding above what remained of the snow? It was dark and V-shaped, like the gable of a roof.

Barney was for investigating at once, but Bruce was more practical; the fish must be secured immediately. This food might yet stand between them and starvation.

They were soon whipping the pool with their poles, and, as the fish came to the ice edge, they gathered them in. Some were monsters, two or three feet in length. It was, indeed, a great haul. They piled them on the ice like cord-wood. Already they were freezing; they would remain fresh for months.

CHAPTER VI

THE RACE IS ON

”And now for the lakeside secret,” exclaimed Barney, tossing the last fish upon the pile, and throwing his frosty pole aside.