On the Yukon Trail

  CHAPTER XXI A TENSE SITUATION

  If Curlie's knees trembled as he heard the heavy bar being lifted fromthe door, there was no trace of emotion on his face when at last the doorswung open and he stood facing his three captors.

  "Welcome in," he smiled, coolly. "I was just thinking of calling you.

  "You see," he explained, "I've just been talking to your old friendMcGregor of the U. S. Service."

  The men started back to stare about the small room, as if suspecting thatthe deputy was hidden somewhere within.

  "He's not here," smiled Curlie, who in spite of the grave danger whichconfronted him was enjoying the situation. "I was just speaking to himover the phone."

  "Phone!" The half-breed whispered the words.

  It was evident that the trio were more bewildered than before. They hadseen telephones and telephone wires in centers of civilization which theyhad visited. They knew what they were; knew, too, that there was not ayard of telephone wire within three hundred miles of their cabin. As fora telephone, had they not built this cabin? How then could it contain atelephone without their knowing it?

  "Huh!" grunted the older of the two Indians. He uttered a low laugh ofcontempt which showed plainer than words that he thought Curlie wasbluffing.

  Curlie's hand went to his side. He lifted a transmitter to his lips, thentouched a button at his belt.

  "Are you there, McGregor?" He pronounced the words distinctly.

  It was one of those periods of time in which one lives a year in thespace of a moment, a moment tense with terrible possibilities.

  Into Curlie's mind there flashed a score of questions. Was McGregorthere? Would he respond? Would the Indians be frightened to the point ofgiving him up if he did? Was the slender aerial still dangling in air andstill working? These and many others sped through his active brain asbreathlessly he waited.

  Then, suddenly, with a fervently whispered, "Thank God!" he caughtMcGregor's gruff voice:

  "Aye, here! Let me have 'em. Put 'em on."

  The older Indian was so surprised by Curlie's actions that the receiverwas on his head before he knew it.

  The next instant his mouth sagged open, his eyes bulged out, his kneesscarcely supported him. He was hearing McGregor's voice. He did not knowhow nor why, but he heard. It was enough. He was afraid.

  For three minutes they all stood there spell-bound. Then apparently thevoice ceased.

  "Wha--what do you want?" the Indian quavered.

  "Only my reindeer, my sled and a chance to get away from here," smiledCurlie.

  "Boz Peon, go get 'em." The Indian spoke to the half-breed. At once hewas away.

  "All right, McGregor," Curlie breathed into the transmitter. "Thanks alot. Hope I meet you sometime. If there's anything further you'll get myS. O. S."

  Turning to the window, he began hauling in on the wire and silk cord.Just as the reindeer arrived at the door, he replaced in his belt thelast bit of apparatus.

  "All O. K. for next time," he whispered to himself. "Trust the oldradiophone to pull you through."

  After leaving the cabin he was obliged to lead his reindeer for the firsttwo or three miles. Had he not done this the deer might have rebelledagain and gone racing back.

  "Wish I'd insisted on their giving me a rifle," he told himself. "Wishthere was some way of getting that reindeer herd from them," he thought afew moments later. "It's a shame that they should rob the Eskimo thatway. The reindeer are everything to the Eskimo, food, clothing, beddingand means of travel. It's a crime to rob them. Of course the rascals willbe caught and punished, but by that time the splendid herd may bescattered to the four winds."

  Little did he guess the strange circumstances under which he would seethat herd again, nor of the ways in which the herd would assist him incarrying out the purposes which were already forming in his mind.

  An exclamation of joy escaped his lips as he swung back on the trailrunning along the ridge.

  "They're after the outlaw! Good old Jennings and Joe! We'll get him yet.I'll catch up with them! Hooray!" He threw his hands in the air and gavesuch a lusty shout that the reindeer came near leaping out of hisharness.

  He had discovered that while he was being held prisoner by the Indians,Joe and Jennings in their pursuit of the outlaw had passed him.

  "All I've got to do," he told himself, "is to speed up this old whiteship of the Arctic desert and I'll be with them in twenty-four hours."

  In this he was mistaken, but since he did not know it he went bumpingmerrily along over the ridges. Now and then shouting at his reindeer, nowand then bursting forth into snatches of boisterous song, he appearedfilled with quite as much joy as a boy off for a fishing trip.

  So, for hours he traveled, until his reindeer was in need of rest andfood, then he turned off into the edge of the scrub-spruce forest. Here,after tethering the deer in an open spot where there was much moss, hebuilt himself a rude shelter of green boughs, kindled a fire, roastedsome strips of reindeer meat procured from the Indians, then crept intohis sleeping-bag.

  Here for a time, through a crack in his green canopy, he watched the bigdipper in its wide circle about the north star, which blinked down fromnearly straight above him. He at last fell asleep.

  In the meantime, in a camp some distance farther down the valley, beneatha cut-bank at the edge of a frozen river, his two companions werereceiving a strange and startling message. The message was once more fromMunson, the explorer. Again the expedition had met with disaster. Havingattempted the flight to shore in their airplanes they had made but halfthe distance when one of the planes became disabled and landed, to crashinto a pile of ice. With the remaining planes much overloaded, they hadbeen obliged to abandon all food. Two hundred miles from shore thegasoline had given out. Making fortunate landings on broad ice-pans, theyhad at once started on foot for shore. They had been carried to the rightby a strong gale and would doubtless reach land some twenty miles west oftheir food depot on Flaxman Island; that is, they would land there ifanywhere. Without food they were well nigh hopeless. Still they had twolight rifles and a hundred rounds of ammunition. There were seals inwater-holes and polar bears wandering over the floes. There was a chancefor life. If anyone listening in on this message were in a position tocome out and meet them they might be the instruments in saving lives.

  "That means us," said Joe. "And it means such a struggle as we have neverexperienced before."

  "Means we leave the trail of the outlaw at once," said Jennings.

  "Why--uh--" Joe stammered.

  "His trail will lead us twenty miles out of the way. Flaxman Island istwenty miles to the east of us; these explorers are straight ahead. Wefollow this stream straight to the sea. Hard-packed river trail all theway. The outlaw, unless I miss my guess, will turn off soon to cut acrossthe hills."

  "We haven't much food to take to them."

  "We have our dogs," said Jennings grimly. "Men eat dogs when they arestarving."

  Joe looked at his old leader, Ginger, who lay with feet stretched outbefore the fire. The dog rose, stretched himself, then walked over to rubhis cold nose against his young master.

  Joe gulped, "Y-e-s, I suppose they do."

  "We'll unload everything we don't need, all the radiophone equipmentexcept the light set, and cache them here. Then we'll make a flying tripof it. And," he said, noting Joe's discomfort at the thought ofsacrificing his faithful four, the team that had fought with him, starvedwith him and carried him so far, "we've got rifles and ammunition. Whoknows what game may bob up to take the place of our dogs?"