Dick Kent in the Far North

The crossing was made without mishap. (Page 131)
By MILTON RICHARDS
AUTHOR OF “Dick Kent with the Mounted Police” “Dick Kent with the Eskimos” “Dick Kent, Fur Trader” “Dick Kent and the Malemute Mail”
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY Akron, Ohio New York
Copyright MCMXXVII THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY Made in the United States of America
Three persons plodded along the snow-piled floor of a tiny canyon in the heart of the northern Canadian wilderness. The broad snow-shoes on their feet made their progress like that of so many huge crabs on a sea shore. In the fore was a tall, well-knit young man, whose weather-tanned face was that of Dick Kent, who for more than a year had sought and found adventure in the vast land where the sole guardians of the peace are the Royal North West Mounted Police.
“It can’t be very far from here,” he turned and spoke, his breath puffing out in white vapor.
Sandy MacClaren strained his eyes ahead. His stocky frame, no less hardened than that of his older chum, Dick Kent, seemed to bend forward with a little more eagerness as he replied:
“I hope we don’t pass it by.”
The man in the rear laughed. He was Sandy’s uncle, Walter MacClaren, an old Scotchman, and factor at Fort Good Faith for the Hudson’s Bay Company.
“I hardly think I could miss the cave,” he spoke. “I spent too many unpleasant hours in there without anything to eat.”
Dick Kent was about to respond to this, when he caught sight of what they were seeking, the mouth of a large cave in the wall of the canyon.