Or, The Camp on the Glacier

To the North, the tangle of the Chugach Mountains; to the East, Bering Glacier; to the South, the purple waters of the Gulf of Alaska; to the West, Prince William Sound. All around, the grandeur of a world in the making—high mountains, rugged summits, deep cut valleys, creeping glaciers.

In a log cabin standing in the center of a small forested moraine four boys of about seventeen were grouped together. The one door and the two windows of the structure were covered with mosquito wire. The hum of insect life came into the room with the monotony of the murmur of the sea. Although it was after ten o'clock in the evening, the sun still rode high above the horizon.

A few hundred feet from the outer edge of the ice-cliff, the forested moraine became a "dead" glacier. When a glacier advances no longer, but draws back year by year, it is said to be "dead." The live glacier is simply a river of ice pouring down precipices and into gorges and fiords.

As a matter of fact, the log cabin was built upon a glacier, for under the luxuriant summer undergrowth, under the flowers, and under the bright green of the hemlocks, lay a great bed of ice which, however, was slowly receding. In times gone by the current of ice had flowed into the Gulf of Alaska, but now, because of drainage in another direction, the glacial ice swept off to the west, in the direction of Copper river.

The four boys in the cabin had just finished supper, the cooking having been done over a gasoline "plate," and they were now discussing the advisability of spending the remaining hour of daylight in the investigation of the strange, wild land in which they now found themselves.

Two days before they had landed at Katalla, and had spent the intervening time in transferring their supplies to the log house on the glacier. They had traveled northward by the inland route, and landed in the vicinity of Controller bay, bringing with them provisions sufficient for a long stay in the wonderful North.

Those who have read the previous volumes of this series will well remember the adventures of Will Smith, Charley (Sandy) Green, George Benton and Tommy Gregory. After startling experiences among the Pictured Rocks of Old Superior, in the mysterious swamps of the Everglades, in the rocky caverns of the Continental Divide, amidst the snows of the Hudson Bay wilderness, and in the coal caverns of the Pennsylvania anthracite region, they had decided to spend a portion of the summer in Alaska. They had reached Controller bay without serious accident, and now found themselves in one of the most picturesque sections of the great territory, with plenty of provisions and ammunition.

The lads were all dressed in the khaki uniform of the Boy Scouts of America, the badges showing membership in the Beaver Patrol of Chicago. Their coat sleeves showed medals proclaiming the fact that they had passed examinations and were well qualified to serve as Stalkers, Seamen, Pioneers, or in the Ambulance squad. The pennant of the Beaver Patrol flew above the door of the cabin.

Tommy Gregory separated himself from, the group about the supper table and walked to the heavily-screened doorway. His face was covered by an Alaska head-net, and he wore a pair of strong leather gloves.

"Why didn't some of you boys tell me that the mosquitos here are as large as robins?" he asked.

"Because they are only half as large," replied Sandy Green with a grin.

"If some one will hand me my gun off the table," Tommy went on, with a wrinkling of his freckled nose, "I'll shoot one, and we can have him for supper! One of the outlaws ought to make a good meal for us four!"

"Better do the killing with a handspike," advised Sandy, "for we haven't any ammunition to throw away. Besides," the boy went on, "I don't believe a thirty-eight would kill one of these wild animals, anyway!"

"Up on the Yukon," George Benton interrupted, "when they sentence a man to death, they don't hang him. They send him down the river in an open canoe, and give the mosquitos a crack at him!"

"You stated that in the way of an exaggeration," Will Smith suggested, "but it is the absolute truth, for all that! Men lost among the nigger-heads have been found later on with their bones picked dry."

"What's a nigger-head?" asked Tommy.

"A nigger-head is a bog," was the reply. "When I say a bog, I don't mean a swampy hole, either. I mean a grassy knoll sticking up out of a swamp full of mud. If you keep on the bogs, or nigger-heads, you are reasonably safe, but if you drop down into the mud, you are likely to go in over your head."

"How far down does this mud go?" demanded Sandy.

"Down to the ice," replied Will. "This entire country," he went on, "is lined with ice! Ten or twelve feet below the foundation of this cabin, the ice is almost as hard as steel. Sometimes the earth-crust over the ice is a foot thick, and sometimes it is ten feet."

"Are those brilliant flowers growing over a glacier?" asked Tommy, pointing to a group of violets growing not far away.

"Sure!" replied Will. "If it wasn't for the ice, there wouldn't be any violets here. The glacier supplies water as well as soil."

"What'd you say about going up to the end of the moraine?" asked Sandy, joining Tommy at the screened door of the cabin.

"Isn't it quite a climb?" asked Will.

"It isn't so very steep," replied Tommy, "but the way seems to be rather rocky. I'd like to know where all these round stones come from!"

"They are brought down by the glacier ice and rounded into shape by the same force which discharges the ice stream into the gulf. There is always a line of moraine at each side of a glacier, and usually several ridges in the middle of it. Those at the edge are called lateral moraines, those in the middle, medial moraines, and those at the end, terminal moraines. And that's about all I know of Alaska," Will added, with a smile.

The lads passed up the moraine for some distance, until, in fact, they came to a point where vegetation became thinner, and hemlocks of smaller growth. Then they turned toward the west and stood for a long time watching the yellow glory of the sunset.

But the heat of day passes swiftly in Alaska when the direct rays of the sun fail, and so the boys were soon glad to return to their cabin, which they had found standing unoccupied.

"I'd like to know the history of this old shack," Sandy said, as they paused in the gathering darkness at the doorway.

"There's no knowing how long it has stood here, waiting for us to come and gladden its dirty old walls with our presence and our scrubbing brushes!" laughed Tommy. "I've seen a good many cleaner cabins in my life!"

"And there is no knowing how many tragedies have been enacted here, either!" exclaimed George. "It must have witnessed many a queer sight!"

"It must have been built within a year or two," Will observed, "for the logs do not yet show decay."

"What I can't get through my noodle," George said, with a puzzled look, "is why any one should construct such a habitable little cabin in this out of the way spot, and then go away and leave it. We must be at least twelve or fifteen miles from the nearest neighbor."

"We're farther than that," observed Sandy, "judging from the time it took us to row our supplies over from the floating dock where we landed. I hope we'll be ready to go out by the time our provisions run short."

"Look here, Will," Tommy questioned, "did Mr. Horton direct you to this exact spot, or did he only tell you to locate somewhere in this vicinity? You never told us what he said."

"He told me," was the guarded reply, "that I might be able to find a deserted cabin on this moraine."

"And he told you right where to find the moraine?" asked Sandy.

"Of course he did!"

"And you said nothing to us about that, either," complained Tommy. "You're always holding something back from us!"

"Well, now that we're here," George suggested, "perhaps Will can be coaxed into telling us exactly what we're here for."

"I should say so!" exclaimed Tommy. "We don't, know at the present moment whether we're here to trap brown bears, or to box and ship Northern Lights to the eastern markets."

"Don't get sarcastic, boys!" replied Will. "I was instructed by Mr. Horton to communicate to you all the information in my possession on our first night in camp, and I'm ready right now to obey orders. Shall we go inside? The bugs are pretty thick out here!"

"I should say so!" shouted Tommy. "I'm pretty well hedged in from the blooming insects," he went on, "but it makes me nervous to hear them blowing their dinner horns every minute."

"Gee!" exclaimed Sandy. "Whenever I get into this anti-mosquito rig, I feel like an armored train!"

Twilight lay heavy over the landscape now, and so the boys were confronted by a dark interior as they stepped into the cabin.

"Who's got a searchlight handy?" asked Will.

Tommy replied that he would have a light on in a second, but before the finger of light from the electric shot into the room, Will half fell over a yielding figure which lay on the floor not for away from the table.

Then the circle of light, thrown hastily down, rested upon the white, drawn face of a boy not far from sixteen years of age. There was a little showing of blood on the floor, and his eyes were tightly closed, indicating that he had been rendered unconscious by a wound.

The lad was dressed in the khaki uniform of the Boy Scouts of America, and the badge on his hat showed that he was Leader of the Fox Patrol.

A long envelope torn open at one end and bearing the name of Will Smith, lay empty by the lad's side.

"Where did he come from?" cried Tommy, "and who is he?"

"Must have dropped out of the sky!" declared Sandy.

Chapter II

THE PRINT OF A THUMB

"The Fox Patrol!" exclaimed George. "I wonder if that means the Fox Patrol of Chicago? It doesn't seem to me that this kid could have followed on our heels across the continent!"

Will lifted the torn envelope from the floor and examined it critically.

"That's your name isn't it?" asked Sandy looking over his shoulder.

"It certainly is!" replied Will.

"Well, you've got the address left, anyhow!" said George.

"Say," Tommy suggested, opening his eyes very wide, "some gink followed the boy here, bumped him on the coco, and stole the communication! I reckon we're getting into the center of population again. Here we are, several hundred miles from nowhere, and we've unearthed an innocent messenger and a bold highwayman already!"

"Have you any idea what the stolen paper contained?" asked George.

"Not the slightest!" replied Will.

"Wasn't it arranged that Mr. Horton should communicate with you after we reached this point?" asked Sandy.

"Certainly not!" was the reply. "He gave me full instructions before we left Chicago. If I found a deserted cabin at this point, I was to make camp here. If I did not, I was to keep along the coast toward Bering Glacier until I discovered one answering this description."

"But where did this kid come from?" insisted Tommy. "How did he ever get here all by his lonely? We had two guides to help us in, and it seems that he came alone, that is, as far as we can see."

"I don't think he came alone!" replied Sandy pointing to the wound on the boy's head. "He never got a bump like that in a fall!"

"Oh, we'll have to wait until the kid wakes up!" Tommy cut in. "We'd better be doing something to help him out of his trance, instead of standing here guessing. He may be badly hurt!"

The limp figure was lifted from the floor and placed on one of the bunks fastened to the wall of the cabin. The lad groaned slightly as the change was made, but did not open his eyes.

"I guess he got a bad bump," Will suggested. "And I'm sorry to say that his wound requires a piece of surgery far beyond my ability to perform. I'm afraid we'll have to send out for a doctor!"

The boys used every means within their knowledge to bring the lad back to consciousness, but all their efforts proved unavailing. The lad lay in a comatose condition long after all their resources had failed.

So busily engaged were the boys in their efforts at resuscitation that they did not for a moment remember that they, themselves, might be in danger from the same hand which had struck down the boy.

As they worked over the lad, bathing the wound with hot water and endeavoring to force stimulating drinks between the set teeth, they did not observe a bearded face was pressed for a moment against a window pane. It was an evil face, and was gone on the instant.

After three hours of steady exertion, the boys relaxed their efforts and sat down to consider the situation. They had searched the boy's clothing, but had found nothing giving a clue to his name or residence.

"Right out of the air!" exclaimed Sandy. "If we should blunder into a camp devoid of a mystery, we'd have to move out or die of suffocation!"

"I'd like to know who the boy is, and where he came from," Will said, after a short pause, "but the principal question now is this: What was in the paper that was stolen from the envelope?"

"Probably some information directed to you," suggested Tommy.

"Undoubtedly," Will answered.

"And now, instead of coming into your hands," George remarked, "the warning, or the command, or whatever you may call it, passes over to the man who attempted murder in order to secure it!"

"That's just the size of it!" Tommy agreed.

"It strikes me," George suggested, "that we'd better set a guard through the rest of the night. The fellow who struck this blow may be waiting to strike another!"

"How long were we gone from the cabin?" asked Will.

"Less than an hour," replied Sandy.

"Then, if we had at once set up a search for the assassin," Will went on, "we might have discovered him."

"Not in a thousand years, in this wild country!" exclaimed Tommy.

Will went to the door and looked out toward the east.

"It will be daylight directly," he said, "and then we will see what can be accomplished in the way of finding clues."

"Nix on the clue!" argued Tommy. "The gink who bumped our friend on the cupola came after the paper. He got the paper and ducked, and that's all there is to it! If there were any secret communications concerning our mission in the paper, the robber got them!"

"And where does that leave us?" asked Sandy.

"Up in the air!" grumbled Tommy.

"So far as I can see," Will stated, "you boys have the situation sized up correctly! The boy was sent here to convey certain information to me. He made his way to the cabin before being attacked. Then he was struck down and the important paper abstracted from the envelope."

"I've got an idea!" cried Tommy springing to his feet and walking up and down the cabin floor. "I've got a bully idea!"

"Pass it around," advised Sandy.

"This lad wasn't followed in at all!" Tommy went on. "The man who attacked him and stole the paper was waiting for him at this cabin! The lad was mistaken for the boy whose name appears on the envelope, and so he got what was meant for some one else!"

"But look here," George argued, "if the assassin was waiting here for the boy to come, why didn't he jump us as soon as we made our appearance?"

"That's another question I can't answer," Tommy admitted. "I might say that the man reached the cabin and found this boy sitting here alone, but that would be only guess work."

Will arose and walked over to the bunk where the wounded boy lay.

"Half a dozen words from his lips would settle the whole question," he said, "but it appears to me that it will be a long time before he will be able to speak a word. All our Boy Scout learning in the matter of wounds is ineffective here!"

"There's one thing clear to me," George argued, "and that is that some one in this wild region now knows more about our mission here than we do ourselves. Of course, Will may know quite a lot regarding it," he added, with a wink, "but, if he does, he hasn't yet confided the story to us."

"That's a hint that you get busy and tell us what we're here for," suggested Tommy with another wink.

"I'll tell you what I know about the matter," Will answered, "but in the face of the fact that a more recent reading of the case is known to exist, the chances are that any explanations I may make may prove to be worthless."

"Can you answer a straight question?" asked Tommy.

"I think so," answered Will.

"Will you answer a straight question?" persisted the boy.

"Certainly!"

"Then answer it. What are we here for?"

"We are here," replied Will, "to secure the print of a thumb!"

"Has the shock of this incident turned your head?" asked Tommy.

"I answered the question correctly!" replied Will. "We came all the way from Chicago to find the print of a man's right thumb!"

"Where do you expect to find it?" demanded Sandy.

"Somewhere among the mountains and glaciers," smiled Will.

"I can get all the thumb prints I want on South Clark street!" declared Tommy. "Of course, it's fun to come out here, under any pretext whatever, but I think Mr. Horton might have given us a more sensible errand than that. This is worse than the trip to the coal mine!"

"Now tell us the excuse Mr. Horton gave for wanting this print of a man's right thumb," smiled Sandy.

Will arose and went to the door. The sun was lifting through a narrow pass in the mountains, and the creatures of the thickets and the air were astir. A flock of water fowl was winging swiftly to the north, and what seemed to be the keen eyes of a wolf looked out from the shelter of the undergrowth. The air was clear and invigorating.

"Why don't you answer my question?" asked Sandy.

"Did you hear footsteps outside?" asked Will.

Sandy shook his head, but the two boys, after drawing on their head-nets, stepped out into the glorious morning.

"There is no reason," Will decided, "why the person who attacked the boy and stole the paper should find it necessary to leave this section without trying to find out something more. I have an idea that whoever injured the lad is still in this vicinity—that he will remain in this vicinity as long as there is a prospect of his securing additional information."

"The mosquitos will eat him up if he remains around here without proper shelter!" Sandy suggested.

"That is one way of fighting off mosquitos," Will said, catching the boy by the arm and pointing off to the east, where a faint line of smoke was making its way through the still air.

"There's some kind of a camp there, all right!" exclaimed Sandy.

Tommy and George now came out of the cabin and the four boys stood for some moments watching the column of smoke which seemed to grow more dense every moment. While they looked, a second column appeared beside the first.

"If we were in a Boy Scout country," Tommy exclaimed, "I should say that was an Indian signal for help."

"In a Boy Scout country!" repeated Sandy. "If this isn't a Boy Scout country, what is it? Every inhabitant, so far as we know, belongs to the order!"

"Well, there's a Boy Scout call for assistance," urged Tommy, excitedly, "and I think we'd better get a move on and see what it means!"

Chapter III

A MESSAGE IN CODE

"We mustn't all go," Will said, as his companions started on a run in the direction of the smoke signals.

"I should say not!" exclaimed Sandy. "If we should all go away at one time we might find another wounded boy in the cabin on our return!"

"Suppose you keep watch, then," Tommy suggested.

"All right," Sandy agreed. "I'll stay if you'll stay with me."

Tommy grumbled a little at the idea of missing a little possible excitement, but the two lads entered the cabin and closed the door while Will and George started away toward the signals.

The moraine over which they passed was something like a floor of loose rocks of different sizes, with mats of mosses, lichens, sedges, and dwarf shrubs scattered here and there, so the traveling was by no means easy. Now and then the boys came to a place where the rocks were entirely bare, and here their progress was more rapid.

The columns of smoke grew more distinct as they advanced, and, after traveling a mile or more, they came to a position from which a figure could be seen moving back and forth between the two fires.

"That's a kid all right!" Will decided, watching the figure closely through a field glass. "And he's wearing a Boy Scout uniform, too!"

"I have an idea," George declared, with a sly wink at his chum, "that if we should ascend to the Mountains of the Moon and drop into a gorge a thousand feet deep, we'd find a Boy Scout in a khaki uniform at the bottom."

"I'm not kicking at the discovery of a Boy Scout," laughed Will. "The more Boy Scouts we come across in this desolate land the happier we shall be."

"I'm not kicking, either," replied George. "I was only commenting on the queer fact that we find Boy Scouts in every region we chance to visit."

"You'll find the little fellows scattered all over the world!" declared Will. "And they're always doing something wherever they are."

Will now handed the field glass to George and he, in turn, made a short study of the figure passing back and forth between the two fires, piling wood now on one and now on another.

"It's dollars to doughnuts," Will observed, "that the boy by the fires came in with the one who lies in the cabin with a busted head."

"I've been considering that proposition," George said.

"Then, perhaps, we may be able to solve a portion of the mystery as soon as we get into conversation with the lad," Will continued.

"I wonder why he didn't come to the cabin during the night?" asked George. "He surely must have seen the lights shining from the windows."

Will turned and looked back over the route they had followed.

"We can't see the cabin from here," he said.

"That's a fact," George agreed, "and if the smoke hadn't been going up good and plenty we would never have seen that!"

The next moment the lad at the fires saw Will and George approaching and ran forward to meet them, uttering as he ran the sharp, quick bark of the fox. The boys responded with the challenge of the Beaver Patrol.

The lad met the two with anything but a serious or anxious expression on his face. He grasped them heartily by the hand and pointed toward the columns of smoke, still rising into the sky.

"No matter where you start a signal fire," he said with a smile, "you're sure to find some Boy Scout who will understand and answer."

"Even in Alaska!" George grinned. "A thousand miles from nowhere you can dig up a nest of Boy Scouts by sending up an Indian sign for help."

"Are you Will Smith?" the boy asked after a few more words of greeting had been exchanged. "If you are, I've come along way to find you!"

"Yes, I am Will Smith," the boy answered.

"How'd you guess it?" asked George. "Why didn't you ask me if I was the boss of the bunch? Don't I look dignified enough?"

"I have a description of Will Smith lying nicely tucked in at the back of my brain!" replied the boy. "Mr. Horton told me where I'd be apt to find him. It seems that I've found him all right, but in doing so, I've lost my chum! Haven't seen anything of a stray Boy Scout, have you?"

Will did not reply to the question immediately, yet he did not care to convey to the boy the news of what had occurred until after a clear understanding of the situation had been reached.

"What's your name?" asked George.

"Frank Disbrow, Fox Patrol, Chicago," was the reply.

"And your chum?" asked Will.

"Bert Calkins, Fox Patrol, Chicago."

"Do you mean to tell me that you have followed us boys from Chicago?" asked George. "You've had a long chase if you have done so!"

"No," answered Frank, "we were very much surprised, one day, to receive a wireless telegram from my father, who is connected in various business operations with Lawyer Horton. The wireless stated that father had work for us to do in Alaska, and the result of it all was that we received a long message in code from Mr. Horton."

"In code?" asked Will, excitedly.

"Exactly! In code."

"In whose code?" asked Will.

"Father's," was the reply.

"I see," said Will. "And you, of course, understand your father's code?"

"Certainly!" was the answer.

"What did the message in code say?" asked George.

"It was addressed to Will Smith," was the answer, "and I, following instructions, did not translate it."

"The message to you simply requested the delivery of the code message?" asked Will.

"Yes, that's all it told us to do."

"Do you know what the code message contained?" asked Will.

"I do not!" was the reply. "You see," the boy went on, "Bert Calkins and I were at Cordova on a vacation. If the wireless message had been two hours later it would have found us on the way to Cook Inlet."

"Just traveling about for the fun of the thing, eh?" asked George.

"That's the idea," replied Frank.

"Perhaps we'd better return to the cabin before we get the history of this boy's life," suggested George, with a grin. "I don't like the way these mosquitos howl about my ears. I'm afraid they'll devour the net and begin on me."

"The cabin?" repeated Frank. "Did you find the cabin?"

"Sure we did," answered George. "And we left the cabin for an hour or so last night, and when we came back we found a member of the Fox Patrol asleep on the floor."

"So that's where Bert went, is it?" asked Frank. "You see," the boy went on, "I got separated from Bert just this side of Katalla. He loitered behind to view the scenery, or something of that sort, and I came on ahead."

"And he never caught up with you?" asked George.

"He never did," was the reply, "although I saw him at different times during yesterday. I thought he headed off in this direction, and so came here. I've had rather a bad night looking for him."

"He had the code message addressed to Will?" asked George.

"Yes," was the reply.

"The untranslated code message?" Will asked.

"Yes, the untranslated code message."

"Glory be!" shouted George.

Frank looked at the boy in wonder for a moment, and then turned to Will with a question in his eyes.

"It's a long story," Will said in answer to the look, "and we'd better wait until we get to the cabin before entering upon it."

"Is Bert all right?" asked Frank.

"He got a little bump on the head somewhere," answered George, "but he'll come out of that all right, in time. I wasn't rejoicing because your chum got a poke on the belfry," George went on, whimsically, "I was shouting because the man who stole the code message didn't accomplish anything."

Frank, who was now standing by the fire collecting such bits of wardrobe as had been removed from his handbag, and also collecting the remains of the solitary lunch of which he had partaken that morning, again turned to Will with an interrogation point in each eye.

"Was the code message stolen?" he asked.

"It certainly was!" Will answered. "At least a large envelope with my name written across the front was found, with the end torn open, by your friend's side as he lay on the floor."

"That's the work of the man who followed us in!" declared Frank.

"We'll get this story all out of you pretty soon," laughed George.

"Suppose we go to the cabin before we uncork the entire yarn," suggested Frank. "To tell you the truth, boys, I didn't have half enough breakfast, and I'm about starved to death!"

"All right," Will replied. "There's nothing to keep us here that I know of. Did you see any one around your camp in the night?" he continued. "What kind of a night did you pass?"

"A rotten, bad night!" was the answer. "I traveled a long way before I came to any wood suitable for building a campfire, and after I got one built it seemed to send out a bugle call to every wild animal within forty miles of the place. I guess I heard bears, and wolves, and wild dogs, and bull moose, and every other form, of wild life known to Alaska, at some time during the night!"

"And all the time," grinned George, "you were not more than a mile or so from our cabin. It's a wonder you didn't see our light."

"Well, I didn't," Frank replied. "But that's past and gone," he went on, in a moment, "and what I'm thinking about at the present time is this: Did the man who stole the code message from Bert force the boy to translate it for him? Tell me something more about the attack on the boy."

"We don't know anything about the attack," replied Will. "We found him lying on the floor of the cabin unconscious, and he has been unconscious ever since."

"Well," Frank went on, "Bert understands the code, for I taught it to him while we were translating the telegrams which came to me. Now, if this outlaw took the code before he struck the blow, the chances are that he ordered Bert to translate it for him. In that case, something which those opposed to you ought not to know is in the hands of your foes."

Chapter IV

THE LOST PLANS

"Well, there's a chance that the boy didn't translate the code message," George argued. "Anyway, we ought not to worry about that part of the case. Time enough to fret when real trouble comes."

By this time the boys had reached the cabin, after an exhausting journey over the moraine. They found Tommy and Sandy standing just inside the screened doorway, waiting impatiently for their arrival.

"Where did you find this one?" asked Tommy with a grin.

"Did he drop down out of the sky?" Sandy questioned.

Frank stood back for a moment, eyeing the two critically.

"I know you two kids," he said. "You're Tommy and Sandy. I've read about you in the Chicago newspapers, but I never expected to meet you out in Alaska. You seem to be getting plenty to eat, judging from your condition. And that brings back to my mind the condition of my own stomach."

"Boys," Will exclaimed, "this is Frank Disbrow. He started for our cabin in company with Bert Calking, the boy we found on the floor last night. The two were bringing a code despatch to me, and they became separated early yesterday morning."

"A code message, was it?" Tommy asked.

"Yes, a code message," Will answered, "but the bearer of the despatch may, for all we know, have been forced to translate the message for the benefit of the man who robbed him of it."

In a moment Frank was by the side of his chum, gazing down into a white and haggard face. He turned away in a moment with a little shiver of anxiety. His face, too, was pale.

"I'm afraid that's a serious wound!" he said.

"If we only had a surgeon," Sandy suggested.

"I'll go get one," offered Tommy. "I can cut across to Katalla in no time and bring back the best doctor there is in the country."

"I'll go with you," offered Sandy.

"Now, wait a minute, boys!" Will said in a moment. "Let's think this matter over. If you go to Cordova instead of Katalla, you can communicate with Frank's father at Chicago, and so get in touch with Mr. Horton. In this way, we can learn the contents of the code despatch. There surely was some strong reason for sending it, and it seems as if we ought to know its contents."

"That's a good idea, too," exclaimed Tommy. "We'll go to Katalla, and perhaps we can find a boat about ready to sail for Cordova. In that case we ought to get up to the wireless station and back in a couple of days. The distance isn't great, but it's rough traveling."

"I wish we could take Bert with us," suggested Frank.

"Are you thinking of going?" asked Will.

"Yes," was the reply, "if I could take Bert out."

"Bert is in no condition to be taken, out," Will answered, "and even if he were it would take so long to make the journey that we could get a surgeon out here before we could land him in a hospital."

"I think," Frank said, "that I ought to go with the boy who is sent out after a surgeon. It is not certain that father will communicate by wireless save to his son. Anyway, I can find out a great deal more by talking with him than could any one else."

"I guess that's right!" Will replied.

"Then I'll go with him!" Tommy shouted. "I want to see what's going on in the world of fashion, anyway!"

"All right," Will said. "Pack up your provisions and get ready to move. Of course you'll need provisions."

"I usually do!" grinned Tommy.

The lads packed up the good supply of sandwiches and started off towards Katalla. It was somewhere near noon when they left the cabin, and they expected to reach the town on the coast before twilight fell, the distance being not more than fourteen miles.

"If you don't get to town when night falls," Will warned, "don't try to camp out in the open, but keep going until you find some human habitation. You remember what happened to Bert!"

"Any one who comes within a half a mile of me in a lonely place," Tommy put in, "will scrape the acquaintance of a bullet."

"And here's another thing," Will advised, "don't travel without a wet cloth or a bunch of green leaves inside your hat. It'll be ninety in the shade before the afternoon is over!"

"Yes, and a hundred in the sun!" declared Sandy.

"That's a nice weather for the Arctic regions, isn't it?" asked Frank.

"We have to take it just as we find it!" replied Will.

The boys started away on a brisk walk, and were accompanied by their chums some distance down the faint trail which led to the coast. At one time in the history of the country one large glacier had completely covered that section. But now, thousands of subordinate canyons and hollows on the mountains were filled with independent masses of ice.

All that section of Alaska, from smoking Wrangell to the Pacific coast, shows volcanic peaks. There are many dead craters, and some which are not so dead! There are still peaks of fire as well as rivers of ice.

After the departure of the two boys, Will and the others devoted considerable attention to the wounded lad. They did their best with the simple means at hand, but never, for an instant, did the boy regain consciousness.

"I don't think we can do anything for him until the surgeon comes," Will said as he threw himself disconsolately into a chair.

"If we only knew whether he was forced to translate the code message for the benefit of the man who robbed him," Sandy suggested, "there wouldn't be so much doubt as to what course we ought to take."

"The code message," Will argued, "may change the whole scheme."

"Yes," Sandy complained, "and we won't know what to do until Frank comes back with the duplicate."

"We won't know what to do then unless Will loosens up!" laughed George.

"Referring, of course," Sandy laughed, "to the prospective story of the mark of the human thumb. Will was about to tell us all about it when we saw the signals sent up by Frank."

"That's a fact," Will replied. "I didn't get any further than the mention of the human thumb, did I?"

"We're waiting to hear the rest of it now!" declared Sandy.

"Well," Will began, "there was a safe robbed in Chicago one night, and two men were accused of the crime. The accused men were in the employ of the manufacturing concern whose safe was entered. They admit that they were in the private office of the firm during the night, but they deny that they opened the safe."

"Of course!" laughed George.

"Now don't form any hasty conclusions," Will went on. "There was a third person in the office that night, according to the stories told by the two men who are accused, but this third person says he wasn't there!"

"Then this third person may be the one who opened the safe."

"That is the theory of the defense," Will explained.

"But what's all this got to do with the mark of a man's right thumb?" asked George.

"I'm coming to that," Will went on. "The three men who were in the office that night—we are supposing for the sake of the argument that there were three men there, and that the man who says he wasn't there is lying about it—were looking over a set of plans for a new machine which the company was arranging to manufacture."

"I've got you now!" laughed Sandy. "The thumb print of the third man was left on the drawings!"

"That's the idea," admitted Will. "The two men say that they were not a little annoyed during the course of the evening because this man, Babcock, persisted in pawing over the plans with dirty hands. They declare that the marks of both thumbs are to be seen on drawings, not in plain dust and grime, but in ink."

"He must have spilled the ink," suggested George.

"That's what they say," Will replied.

"Well, go on!" urged George.

"The statement is made by the two accused men that they worked over the plans until after midnight, and that they left this man Babcock at the office when they went to their homes. Babcock denied that he was in the office at all that night."

"Where are the plans?" asked George.

"In Alaska," answered Will.

"But where abouts in Alaska?"

Will looked at the boy quizzically for a moment before he answered.

"That's just what we're here to find out!" he finally said.

"But why, when, where, how?" began the boy.

"One at a time!" laughed Will. "On the morning following the robbery, the plans having been rejected by the two men who were accused of robbing the safe, were sent to a mining company having an office at Cordova. So far as the defense is concerned, they have never been seen since that time."

"Were they actually sent?" demanded George.

"Yes, they were sent. The manager of the mining company admits having received them. He says they were turned over to a clerk for examination. From the time they passed into the hands of this clerk, no one had seen them. The clerk says he never had them."

"Do the manager and the clerk know what the defense in the robbery case expects to prove by the papers if they can be secured?" asked George.

"They are not supposed to know," Will answered.

"But you think that they may know, for all that?"

"At the time of leaving Chicago, I had no idea that there would be any trouble at all in securing the plans. In fact, until Bert was found lying on our floor last night, I believed that we should discover the papers as soon as we came upon one Len Garman, a miner who has, against the advice of his friends, been prospecting in this district, and who is known to have at one time occupied this cabin."

Chapter V

FISHING IN ALASKA

"Are you sure this is the same cabin?" asked George.

"Yes, I am sure this is the same cabin. At any rate, the description is perfect, both as regards the structure and the surroundings."

"I may be somewhat dense," George went on, "but I can't understand why a miner who is fool enough to prospect for gold on a dead glacier should take pains to conceal plans concerning the manufacture of a machine. What did he want of the plans?"

"I didn't say that he was concealing the plans," laughed Will.

"Well, you inferred as much!"

"As a matter of fact, I think he is hiding the plans."

"Does he expect to go into the manufacturing business?" grinned Sandy.

"I don't know about that," Will replied, "but there is talk that the clerk and the miner conspired to lose the plans."

"Because of the thumb prints?" asked Sandy.

"No; because the machine outlined in the plans is a mining machine, and because this clerk, Vin Chase, his name is, and this miner, Garman, have a notion in their head that they can steal the idea and bring forth a machine of their own. At least that is the supposition in Chicago."

"The plot deepens!" laughed George, "We'll be doing business with the Patent Office the first thing we know!"

"Are the plans which are claimed to hold the thumb prints of any value?" asked Sandy. "What I mean is, is the alleged invention of any account? You know there are plenty of inventions which are not worth the paper they are drawn on."

"Spaulding and Hurley, the two men accused of stealing the money," Will answered, "declare that the plans are absolutely without value."

"Why didn't you tell us all this before we left Chicago?" asked George. "I don't see any necessity for your keeping the story of the plans such a profound secret!"

"Well," answered Will, "the principal reason why I didn't tell you the whole story in Chicago is that I didn't care to clutter your minds up with a puzzling proposition which might be solved in a moment at the end of the journey. I expected to find Garman and the plans in this cottage. In that case, I should have shipped the plans back to Chicago and we should have gone with our playful little vacation under the North Star."

"Then you wouldn't have told us anything about the plans or the robbers?" questioned Sandy.

"Certainly not," was the reply. "You see, boys," Will went on, observing the injured look on the faces of his chums, "we've always been mixed up in some mystery, ever since the day we started out to visit the Pictured Rocks of Old Superior. So I thought you might like one trip free of puzzles and excitements."

"Don't you never permit us to lose sight of a mystery!" exclaimed George. "I eat mysteries three times a day, and then dream of mysteries at night! And Sandy," he went on, "just gets fat on mysteries!"

"All right," Will agreed. "If you want to tie your intellect all up into knots studying out such Sherlock Holmes puzzles as come to me, I have no objections."

"Well, we've found the cottage," George observed presently, "but we haven't found the man."

"Perhaps Bert Calkins found him," contended Will.

"Do you really think the miner is still hanging around this cabin?" asked Sandy. "Do you think he is the man who gave Bert the clout on the head? If you do think so, we'd better keep a sharp lookout."

"Garman wouldn't know anything about our coming here after the plans!" suggested George.

"Any man who steals another man's invention, or tries to steal it, will go to almost any length to protect the thing he has stolen. Even if Garman had no previous knowledge of our visit to this place our arrival here would at once excite his suspicions."

"I see that now," agreed George, "and the first thing the fellow would do would be to try to discover what we were doing here."

"Yes," continued Will, "and that would be sufficient motive for him to attack the bearer of the code despatch."

"I guess we've got it all doped out now," laughed George. "All we've got to do is to find this man Garman, take the original plans away from him, mail them back to Chicago, and go on about our business."

"And the lawyers in Chicago will do the rest!" grinned Sandy.

"It looks easy, doesn't it?" suggested Will.

"Why, if this miner doesn't know anything about what we're here for, we can tell him any story we're a mind to. We can tell him we're here on a vacation and have money to invest in a mine, if he can find the right kind of a mine for us," laughed George. "In twenty-four hours after we get hold of him, we can have him eating corn out of our hands, like a billy goat."

"You say it well!" laughed Sandy.

"That's all very well," Will agreed, "provided Garman isn't the man who took the code despatch from Bert Calkins."

"And provided, too," George declared, "that Garman didn't force the boy to translate the despatch for his benefit."

"And provided, also," Sandy cut in, "that the code despatch doesn't give away the whole snap to the miner. If he sees the machine plans referred to in any way, he'll think we want to get them away from him, because they are the stolen plans, and then it will be all off for us!"

"And so, when you come to round up on the proposition," Will argued, "we are not much further along than we were when we left Chicago, except that we have found the cabin."

"Who said anything about getting dinner?" asked Sandy, after a short pause. "I remember having a little snack about twelve o'clock, but that wasn't to be considered as a full meal, I hope."

"What have we got to eat?" asked Will.

"Nothing but a lot of canned stuff!" declared Sandy.

"Well, then, go out and get a deer, or half a dozen rabbits, or go back here to the little creek that runs into Copper river and see if you can get a mess of fish. There ought to be plenty of fish in Alaska!"

"What kind of fish can you get?" asked Sandy.

"Salmon!" answered Will.

"How far is it to the creek?" was the next question.

"Something over a mile, I should say," replied Will.

"It can't be any further than that," George cut in. "The glacier this cabin is built on supplies most of the water for it."

"All right, then," Sandy replied. "I'll get myself up a little lunch consisting of a couple of slices of bacon and three or four eggs, and go out and catch a ten-pound salmon for dinner. Want to go with me, George?" he added. "No need of all three staying here."

"Let Will go," replied George. "I'm tired, and there's a particularly interesting book I'd like to finish this afternoon."

Will went pawing among the fishing tackle, and finally called out to George who was just crawling into a bunk with his book:

"What do they catch fish with in Alaska?"

"Hooks!" replied George.

"Hooks and eyes?" asked Will, with a chuckle.

"Sure! Hooks and eyes! You see 'em with the eyes, and grab 'em with the hooks!"

"Aw, never mind that gink!" laughed Sandy. "He doesn't know any more about fishing in Alaska than a hog knows about Sunday! Bring along all the flies we've got and some red flannel, and some pieces of dirty bacon, and we'll manage to get fish. If one bait won't answer, another will."

"Do we have to cut a hole through the ice?" asked Will.

"Cut a hole through the ice!" repeated George. "Eighty or ninety in the shade! If you don't get this boy out of here, Sandy," George added, "I'll give him a poke in the eye!"

After selecting such flies, hooks, and lines as they thought might prove alluring to the fish, Will and Sandy started away in the direction of the little stream which ran out of the glacier a mile or so to the north and took a general direction toward Copper river.

After walking half a mile or more, they came to a line of rocks which seemed to extend from the open ice of the glacier to the coast, a distance of perhaps five or six miles. West of this line of moraine rocks the land sloped gradually to the northwest and here the headwaters of the little creek they sought were found.

Straight away to the north, west of the glacier, rose a range of wooded hills just now bright with blossoms and swarming with insect life. The little creek crept along to the south of this range, and, further down, separated the ground to the south from the hills.

Sandy leaped across the little rivulet as it came bubbling out of the ice hidden under the moraine and started down the bank next to the line of hills. Will kept to the other side.

"Why don't you come across?" shouted Sandy.

"What's the good of crossing over at all?" Will asked. "Before long the stream will be so wide that you can't cross back, and then you'll have to retrace your steps clear to the headwaters!"

"I can swim, can't I?" laughed Sandy.

"Not in that cold water!" replied Will.

Sandy only laughed in reply to the warning, and the two boys proceeded downstream, one on each side of the rivulet.

Within half an hour they caught half a dozen salmon of fair size, weighing from four to six pounds, using only red flannel for bait.

"What do you think of a fish in his right mind that'll try to eat red flannel?" asked Sandy, speaking from the opposite side of the creek.

"Boys do more foolish things than that!" answered Will.

"Explanation!" grinned Sandy.

"They smoke cigarettes, for one thing!" replied Will. "Even a fish that tries to make a meal off red flannel won't smoke a cigarette."

"We don't seem to get anything very big!" shouted Sandy.

"Well," Will answered back with a faint smile, "take a look up the hillside and see if that bear coming is large enough for you!"

Chapter VI

A MISSING BOY

"Bear nothing!" laughed Sandy. "There isn't a bear within a hundred miles of us! You can't fool your Uncle Isaac!"

"Look back and see!" advised Will.

Sandy paid no attention to the remark, but kept on fishing, following on down stream until he was some yards in advance of his chum.

So interested was he in the sport in which he was engaged that he thought no more of what had been said to him regarding the bear until a pistol shot reached his ears.

Then he glanced quickly in the rear, taking in the whole line of the hillside at one glance.

Just at that moment the whole landscape seemed to consist principally of bear! Will had wounded a great brown bear, and he was charging down toward the place where Sandy stood. The boy drew his automatic and faced about, hardly knowing what else to do, as the creek was too wide to leap across. The bear came on with a rush.

"Run!" shouted Will.

"I guess you'll have to show me a place to run to!" Sandy shouted back. "This bear seems to have taken possession of about all the territory there is on this side of the creek."

"Shoot, you dunce, shoot before he gets up to you!" shouted Will. "If he gets one swipe at you with that paw, you'll land out in the Gulf of Alaska! Fill him full of lead!"

Sandy began firing, but the bear came steadily on.

"You'll have to swim for it!" shouted Will in a moment. "You mustn't let that big brute get near enough to hand you one with that educated left of his. Jump in and swim and I'll help pull you out!"

Sandy looked at the creek and shivered. The water looked blue, as if shivering from the cold. He faced about and decided to take a few more shots at the bear before risking his life in the cold water.

"You'll have to jump!" Will shouted from the other side.

"I wouldn't have to jump," Sandy cried back, "If you'd do more shooting and less talking! Go on and use up your lead!"

In the excitement of the time, Will had, indeed, forgotten to keep his automatic busy. He now began shooting as fast as the weapon would carry the lead away, and bruin seemed to take offense at the activity with which the bullets flew about him. He was bleeding in several places, and was in a perfect frenzy of rage.

"I guess that's an armored bear!" Will shouted across the creek. "I don't believe our bullets have any effect on him!"

By this time the bear was within a few paces of Sandy. The boy's automatic was empty now, yet he obstinately refused to spring into the water. Bruin reached out one paw and Sandy ducked, coming up behind the clumsy animal and landed a blow with the butt of the automatic on his head.

The next few moments were something of a blank in the mind of the boy. He heard Will calling to him, he knew that he had been struck by the bear, knew that his chum's bullets were still flying across the river, and knew that things were turning black around him.

Then he felt a dash of cold water in his face, and looked up to see Will standing over him, pouring water out of his hat.

"What did I do to the bear?" he asked faintly.

"Wait till you get to a mirror and see what the bear did to you!" replied Will. "What you got was a plenty!"

"Why didn't I jump in and swim across?" asked Sandy feebly.

"Because you're the most obstinate little customer that ever drew the breath of life," answered Will. "You took a chance on being eaten alive by a bear rather than get your feet wet!"

"Did I get my feet wet?" asked Sandy.

"No, but I did!" answered Will. "I had to swim across. The bear handed you one between the eyes and then dropped dead. I was afraid you'd lie here all night if I didn't do something, so I swam over."

"So you're the one that got wet?" grinned Sandy.

"Yes, I'm the one that got wet, but you're the one that got beat up!" replied Will. "Do you think you can walk home now?"

"Sandy straightened out one arm at a time, then one leg at a time, then arose to a sitting position.

"I don't know why not!" he replied.

"Get up and see if you can walk!" advised Will.

"'Course I can walk!" replied Sandy. "I just went down for the count!"

He scrambled slowly to his feet and turned about to gaze at his late antagonist. The bear was lying stone dead close to the stream.

"He's a big one, isn't he?" he asked.

"He certainly is," was the reply. "If he'd got a good swipe at you before he became weak from loss of blood, you'd be in the 'Good-night' land all right now!" the boy added, with a grin.

"Well, I'm glad he didn't, then!" answered Sandy.

"Do you think we can carry the rug home?" asked Will.

"Perhaps you can," replied Sandy. "I don't feel as if I could carry an extra ounce. I guess Bruin did pass me a stiff jolt!"

"You bet he did!" replied Will. "Anyway," he added, "we'll have to leave the rug until some other time, because we've got quite a lot of fish to carry. If any one steals the hide, we'll have to stand it."

"We might skin the bear and put the hide up in a tree," suggested Sandy. "We'll have to tan the pelt in the sunshine, anyway!"

"That's a good idea, too!" exclaimed Will, getting busy at once with his knife. "And that reminds me that we can have bear steak for supper if we want it. We all like bear steak, you know!"

"I should say so!" replied Sandy.

It took the boys only a short time to remove the pelt from the bear and provide themselves with a few pounds of steak. Then leaving part of their fish, they started away up the creek toward the cabin.

Now and then Will stopped in the hurried walk to look toward Sandy and grin in the most provoking manner.

"If you see anything about me you don't like," Sandy said, half-angrily, on the third or fourth inspection, "you can just step over here and knock it out of me! What are you making fun of me for?"

"You look like you'd been through a battle with a cage of monkeys," replied Will. "You've got a swipe on the side of the face, and your cheek is scratched and bloody, and you got a swipe on your shoulder, and there's a tear on your shoulder, in the flesh as well as in your coat, and one eye will be black as soon as the blood settles under the contusion. Take it up one side and down the other, you're a pretty disreputable looking object!"

"You wait until you get into a fight with a bear, and see how you come out! I'll bet you won't look as if you'd just dropped in from a pink tea! You'll look about like thirty cents!"

"When I see a bear coming," replied Will, "I hope I'll have the sense to run! I won't stay and get into a knock-down argument with him!"

It was nearly sundown when the boys came in sight of the cabin. They looked eagerly through the twilight for a light, expecting that George would have the great acetylene lamp in working order.

But no light showed from the cabin, and all was still as they approached the door. When Will looked in he saw the interior was in confusion.

"I should think George might straighten things out a little bit," he grumbled. "I'll bet he's been asleep all the afternoon!"

"I presume he has," agreed Sandy.

Will reached to the top of a shelf for an electric flashlight and swung the circle of flame about the room.

"Why, look here!" he said excitedly, "what do you know about that?"

"About what?" demanded Sandy, who was looking the other way.

"About Bert's bed being empty!"

"That's another joke!"

"Not on your life!" exclaimed Will.

Sandy turned around, gave one glance at the vacant bunk, and dropped weakly back into a chair.

"Do you think he got up and walked away?" he asked.

"No," replied Will, "I don't!"

"Then, who carried him away?" demanded Sandy.

Will turned the rays of the searchlight on the bunk where he had seen George cuddle down and then walked over toward it.

"George didn't!" he answered, "because George is here sound asleep!"

"Sound asleep?" repeated Sandy. "Do you suppose he'd lie here and sleep and let some one come and carry away Bert?"

Will took hold of the boy's leg and half drew him out of the bunk.

"Wake up, here!" he shouted.

George yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"First good sleep I've had in a week!" he said.

"Did you sleep all the afternoon?" asked Will.

"I guess I did!"

"Hear any one around the cabin?"

"How could I, when I was sound asleep?"

"Well," Will went on, "while you were having that fine sleep, some one came to the cabin and carried off Bert Calkins!"

"What are you talking about?" demanded George.

"Look in his bunk and see!" advised Sandy.

"How was it ever done?" demanded George.

"I'm not asking how it was done," Will returned. "What I want to know is: Why was it done? What object could any one have in carrying away that kid? I wouldn't believe he was gone if I didn't see the empty bunk."

"It's something connected with that code message!" Sandy suggested.

"I've got it!" replied Will. "The man took the message away before he knew whether he could read it or not. When he found he couldn't read it, he came back to get Bert to read it for him."

"But Bert is in no condition to be kept prisoner," George insisted. "He won't give the information the man seeks, and the man will probably mistreat him because he can't! What we've got to do is to get a move on and find the boy before he is starved or beaten to death."

"That's just what we've got to do!" agreed Will. "We've got to drop everything until we find that boy!"

Chapter VII

A LOST "BULLDOG"

"How much do you know about this case?" asked Tommy of Frank, as the two stumbled over the uneven moraine.

"How much do I know about what?" asked Frank.

"Why, this case that your father talked with you about when he used the wireless; the case referred to in the code message."

"Why, I know that you boys are out here in search of the print of a man's right thumb!" laughed Frank.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, I know a little more than that. I know that two men are soon to be tried for burglary, and that the discovery of the thumb marks is quite essential to a successful defense."

"Did your father tell you all that?"

"Oh, we talked quite a lot by wireless."

Tommy considered the situation for a moment and then said:

"I wish you'd tell me all you know about it."

In as few words as possible, Frank related the story practically as told to George and Sandy by Will.

"Does Bert know all about this?" asked Tommy when the recital was finished. "Did you talk the matter over with him?"

"I certainly did."

"I hope," Tommy mused, "that he wasn't forced to tell anything about the thumb marks when the man robbed him."

"I don't think he would do that," suggested Frank. "He would be apt to plead ignorance."

The boys came, about nine in the evening, to the little station of Katalla, which is just a mite of a town sitting perched high above the Gulf of Alaska. The first thing they did was to make inquiries at the water front regarding transportation to Cordova.

As they passed swiftly from point to point, consulting a half-breed here, an Esquimaux there, and an American trader at another point, they noticed that they were being followed. Finally Tommy drew back and waited until the man who seemed to be pursuing them came up.

"Are you looking for me?" he asked.

"I would like to speak with you," was the reply.

"Well, then, why didn't you come up like a man and say so?" demanded Tommy. "You needn't have skulked along in the dark!"

"Fact is," the man answered, "that I heard you making inquiries regarding the possibility of getting to Cordova tonight."

"Yes, that's where we want to go."

"Have you secured transportation yet?"

"We have not!" Tommy answered.

"Well, I was going to let you inquire at one more place," said the other, "and then tender you the use of my boat."

"Why were you going to wait?"

"Because I wanted you to exhaust your last chance so that I could get my own price for the service."

"You must be a Yankee!" laughed Tommy.

"Right!" was the reply. "I'm a Yankee direct from Boston. I don't have many opportunities of acquiring wealth out here, and I smelt real money as soon as I saw you boys come to town a couple of days ago."

"What kind of a boat have you?" asked Tommy.

"A swift little motor boat."

"Can you get us to Cordova and back by seven or eight in the morning?"

"I don't think I can do the job as soon as that, but I'll do the best I can! Why are you in such a hurry?"

"There's a boy sick at the camp!" was the short reply.

"How much are you going to charge for the use of your boat?" asked Frank. "We're willing to pay for fast service."

"I think a couple of hundred dollars will be about right," was the reply. "It's a little bit risky going out in the night."

Tommy was about to protest against the exorbitant charge, but Frank motioned him to remain silent.

"The price is satisfactory," he said. "When can you start?"

"In an hour," was the answer.

After promising to meet the boys at the floating dock in an hour's time, the owner of the motor boat took his departure, and the two lads dropped into a smoky and smelly restaurant for supper.

The place was foul with evil language as well as evil smells, and the boys did not remain long. Instead of sitting down at the table and ordering their meal, they bought such provisions as they could get and took their way to the water front. When they sat down to eat their rather unpalatable repast, they saw that a boy of about their own size and age was loitering not far away.

"I'll gamble you a five cent piece," Tommy whispered to Frank, "that that is a Boy Scout! What do you say?"

"You're on!" exclaimed Frank.

Tommy struck three times on the planking of the dock with his open hand. Instantly there came back to his ears the low snarling voice of a bulldog. Then footsteps advanced down the dock, and the boy soon stood close to the others.

"You're a Beaver?" he asked.

"And you're a Bulldog!" said Tommy.

The boys presented their hands, palm out, in the full salute of the Boy Scouts and then stood examining each other's faces.

"Where's the Bulldog Patrol located?" asked Tommy.

"Portland, Oregon," was the reply.

"Do you live here now?" asked Frank, who had already been introduced as a member of the Fox Patrol.

"I'm obliged to live here," was the answer, "because I can't get out of town. I wish I could get away!"

"You may go with us," offered Tommy.

"Where?" was the question.

"To Cordova tonight, and to a camp out on a glacier tomorrow."

"Tickled to death!" exclaimed the boy.

"You're welcome!" declared Tommy;

"Who're you going with?" was the next question.

"He didn't give us his name, but he said he owned a fast motor boat, and he said he'd get us there and back before noon tomorrow!"

"Jamison is the only man here who has a motor boat, but you want to look out for him. He's as crooked as a corkscrew!"

"That's the impression I received when he fixed his price."

"Well," the stranger said in a moment, "I've got a little baggage up the street and I'll go and get it."

He was gone perhaps half an hour, and when he returned the boys saw an anxious expression on his face.

"Are you sure that man Jamison is going out with you tonight?" he asked.

"He said he would," was the reply.

"He's up there loading in whiskey," the boy, who had given his name as Samuel White, continued, "and has surrounded himself with about as tough a bunch of crooks as there is in all Alaska."

"Perhaps he wants them to help run the boat," suggested Tommy.

"No, there's something crooked on foot!" declared Sam. "The fellows are whispering together in a bar-room up the street, and pounding the tables, and letting cut great shouts of laughter as if they had a good joke on some one."

"Do you know any of the men with Jamison?" asked Frank.

"One of them," the boy replied, "is a crooked mine agent, and one is a fellow who hangs around town without revealing any business whatever, but seems to have plenty of money."

While the boys talked, Jamison, accompanied by two men who seemed to be somewhat under the influence of liquor, came down to the dock.

After nodding familiarly to the lads, he gave a signal with a lantern which he carried in his hand, and in a short time a very capable looking motor boat came puffing out of the darkness.

"There you are, boys!" he said. "Jump in, and I'll have you up to Cordova in no time. I've got a good crew on board, and I may be able to get you back long before noon."

The boys did not exactly like the looks of the "good" crew, but they said nothing as they took their seats in the little trunk cabin and waited for the boat to get under motion.

When at last the motors began whirling and the rocking motion told the lads that they were out among the high waves, Jamison came in and seated himself by Tommy's side.

"Little bit bumpy tonight," he said, "but you'll soon get used to that. If you have the money ready, I'll collect fares now."

Frank took two hundred dollars in bank notes from a pocket and passed it over to the owner of the boat.

"A hundred apiece," Jamison said. "I was to have a hundred for each passenger. You owe me a hundred more."

"Don't pay any hundred for me," Sam White exclaimed, springing to his feet. "I'll jump over-board and swim back."

Frank laid a hand on the boy's arm and pushed him back into a seat.

"It's all right," he said. "I did agree to pay a hundred dollars a passenger. You're quite welcome to the ride at my expense."

As Frank spoke he took a roll of bank notes from another pocket and stripped off one of the denomination of one hundred dollars.

Jamison saw large denominations, some as high as five hundred dollars, in the roll, and his evil eyes glittered greedily.

When Frank put up the roll, the fellow's eyes followed it until it passed out of sight in the pocket. Other members of the crew had seen the money also, and Tommy was decidedly uncomfortable as he thought of the situation they were in.

Having received his pay, Jamison grew very friendly and confidential, and began pointing out the show places along the dim coast.

Presently Sam whispered cautiously in Tommy's ear:

"He is headed for the Barren islands, and not Cordova," he said.

Chapter VIII

ON THE GULF OF ALASKA

"Where are the Barren islands, and why should he want to take us there?" asked Tommy, apprehensively.

"The Barren islands," replied Sam, "lie in the Gulf of Alaska, just south of the mouth of Copper river, west of Controller bay. They extend along the coast, only a short distance out, for twenty miles or more, and are just what the local name signifies, Barren islands."

"But why should he want to take us there?" insisted Tommy, slipping a hand toward his hip pocket to make sure that his automatic was ready for any emergency.

Sam did not answer the question, for Tommy's quick start of surprise, his low exclamation of dismay, checked the words which were on his lips. Instead, he pushed closer to the lad and asked:

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"My revolver has been taken!" replied Tommy.

Frank, sitting close to his chum on the other side, now pushed his hand into his hip pocket and brought it forth empty.

"So is mine!" he said.

The boys looked at each other for a moment in the gathering darkness without speaking. The situation was a serious one.

"Who did it?" asked Tommy presently.

"No one has been near me except that man Jamison," replied Frank.

"He's the only one who's been within reaching distance of me," Tommy observed. "He must be a clever pickpocket!"

"I saw him eyeing that roll of money rather greedily," Sam cut in, speaking in a very low tone, for Jamison had new turned back from the prow and was looking in their direction.

"I noticed that, too," Frank answered. "I'm afraid we're going to get into trouble with that gink. Anyway," he continued, "he's started in right. He did well to get our guns before he started anything!"

"He didn't get my revolver," Sam said with a low chuckle. "It's a little bit of a baby thing, but it's a great deal better than none!"

"It will shoot, won't it?" asked Tommy.

"It will shoot, all right, but it's only a twenty-two," replied the boy. "I've been trying for the last two days to get a square meal on it, but couldn't get even a ham sandwich. They don't look with favor on baby guns up in Alaska. They want the real thing!"

"Well, keep your gun where you can reach it at any moment!" advised Frank. "Even a twenty-two caliber may prove effective at short range."

"I presume," Sam went on, "that my coming on board in shabby clothes, and as an object of charity, convinced Jamison that I wasn't worth searching. I saw him looking me over, though!"

"Object of charity—not!" returned Frank. "We're mighty glad you're with us right now! You say he's taking us to the Barren islands. Well, we wouldn't know the Barren islands from any other place without you. You've put us on our guard, at least, and that's worth more than the price of the ticket! We're glad of your company, too!"

"Now, see here, boys," Tommy whispered, "we mustn't let this man Jamison know that we have discovered that we have been robbed. The minute he knows that we are suspicious of him, the matter will come to a focus immediately. We've got to have time to think this matter over before anything is done."

This plan of action was agreed to, and the boys sat for some minutes in silence. After a time Jamison came to where they were seated, just at the doorway of the trunk cabin, and began asking questions about the need for a doctor. Tommy explained that a member of their party had been injured by a fall, and that they were going to Cordova in quest of a surgeon. He again asked Jamison to put on full speed.

"There's a man over here on the coast, this side of Katalla, who is said to be a fine surgeon," Jamison explained, after Tommy had finished his statement. "He's a sort of a recluse, people say, and lives alone in a shabby hut, high up above the tide. You might stop and consult him. That would be better, it seems to me, than going away up to Cordova. Still," he went on with a grim smile, "I've been paid to take you to Cordova and back, and, if you insist, I mean to live up to my bargain!"

Sam gave Frank a quick poke in the ribs and whispered in his ear:

"Yes, he does!"

"Let him play out his string," whispered Frank in return.

"This surgeon," Jamison went on, "is a queer old fellow. Sometimes he'll take a case, and sometimes he won't. If he feels in an ugly mood, he's likely to kick us out of his cabin."

Tommy listened with apparent interest to what the treacherous Jamison was saying, but it is needless to remark that he did not accept it as truth. It was his belief that the fellow was manufacturing a pretext for getting himself and his friends quietly on shore as soon as one of the Barren islands was reached.

There were three men on board the motor boat besides Jamison. They were evil-looking fellows, and spent most of their time on the forward deck, where the steering wheel and the motors were located.

The men frequently drank out of a black bottle, and were fast becoming intoxicated. Instead of attempting to restrain the fellows, Jamison seemed to encourage them in their debauch.

"He's getting them in trim to start something," Sam whispered, as the three men broke into a rough drinking song.

"Yes," agreed Tommy, "I imagine that he wants whatever takes place on board the boat tonight to be regarded as the acts of men made irresponsible by whisky. You'd better keep your gun handy, Sam!"

"I've got my hand on it every minute!" replied the boy. "And if anything is started here, Jamison will be the first one to know that I've got it! He's the man that needs the lesson!"

It was very dark now, and the sea was rough. The motor boat plunged about like a leaf, tossing from wave to wave, and dropping into one trough after another. It was plain that the members of the crew were becoming too drunk to handle the boat.

Jamison finally approached the cabin doorway and sat down on one of the stationary seats. Notwithstanding the fact that the boat was taking water at almost every jump, the fellow's face bore a satisfied look.

"What are those fellows trying to do with the boat?" asked Tommy.

"Oh, they're all right!" answered Jamison.

"Looks to me like they were trying to drop us to the bottom," Frank said. "There won't be any boat left directly!"

"I guess they have got a little too much John Barleycorn on board!" laughed Jamison, as the boat gave a lurch which sent him head foremost from his seat. "I'd go and take the wheel myself, only I don't know much about running a motor boat under present conditions."

Frank gave Tommy a quick nudge in the side.

"I can run the boat," he whispered, "shall I?"

"If he'd let you, yes!" replied Tommy.

"Where shall I take her?"

"To Cordova, of course, but perhaps you'd better wait until the men get a little bit drunker. Jamison will become frightened for the safety of his boat before long, and then he won't object to your taking charge of her. He's beginning to look sick already."

"If I ever get hold of that wheel," Frank whispered to Tommy, "I'll send her flying toward Cordova! I hope the members of the crew will be too drunk to know which, way I'm taking them."

Directly the boat gave another tremendous lurch, soaking the boys with cold salt water. Jamison rose to his feet with an oath and, steadying himself by clinging to the top of the cabin, shook a fist angrily at the man at the wheel. The man frowned back.

"What are you doing, you drunken hobo?" shouted Jamison.

The man grinned foolishly but said not a word.

"I wish I knew how to operate a motor boat as well as he does when he's sober," gritted Jamison.

"The owner of a boat ought to know how to run her!" suggested Frank.

"I bought the boat only a few days ago," replied Jamison.

"Look here," Frank said, as the boat gave another sickening whirl, "I can run a boat all right. Shall I take hold?"

"No," replied Jamison sourly, "we've got to land!"

"But there is no place to land," urged Sam.

"There is a place on the point where the doctor lives," answered Jamison, "where we can land in a rowboat. I'm glad now that I brought the dinghy along with us. We can anchor the motor boat under the point and take refuge in the doctor's cabin until this storm blows over."

The boys were greatly disappointed at this decision on the part of Jamison, but they dare not argue the point with him for fear that he would suspect that they were watching his every movement.

In a few moments a dark bulk showed directly in front of the racing motor boat, and only the quick action of the man at the wheel prevented a collision with a bold headland which showed dimly under the light of the few stars which looked down from the cloudy sky.

In a moment the boys saw a light, and then Sam whispered to Frank:

"That's not a coast point," he said. "It's one of the Barren islands. I don't believe there's any doctor there, as he said! What shall we do if he asks us to go ashore?"

"We'll have to go, I suppose," returned Tommy, "but, all the same," he went on, "if we get a chance to get possession of the boat, we'll let these outlaws take a swim to the shore!"

Presently the boat came under the shelter of the headland, and then a member of the crew, in obedience to whispered orders from Jamison, dropped into the dinghy which had been trailing behind, and shouted to his mate to follow. Then Jamison himself stepped into the dinghy, which was swinging about wildly in the surf.

"Now boys," he said, "if you'll get aboard, we'll take you ashore for an interview with the doctor. He'll demand big pay, but he's skillful and you ought to secure his services if you can."

"Only one man on board now," cried Tommy, "Now's our chance!"

Chapter IX

THE CLUES WILL FOUND

"I wish one of you boys would give me a good swift kick," George exclaimed as the three lads stood in the cabin discussing the strange disappearance of Bert Calkins.

"I'd do that all right if it would accomplish anything!" laughed Will.

"I'll do it anyhow, if you insist upon it!" grinned Sandy.

"It was a rotten thing for me to do!" exclaimed George. "I never expected to go to sleep when I lay down in my bunk, but I did go to sleep, and some one walked into the cabin and carried Bert away! I'll never get over it if anything serious happens to him!"

"Aw, cut it out!" exclaimed Sandy. "We'll find him all right. The question before the house right now is whether we're going to get supper before we start out on a hunt for the kid."

"We may as well get supper," Will advised. "There's no use whatever of our running around in circles in the dark. We've got to sit down here and reason it out. Before we do anything at all, we ought to reach some conclusion as to why the poor kid was taken away."

"Why, I thought that was all understood," Sandy interrupted. "I thought we decided not long ago that the man who stole the code wireless came back to get Bert to translate it for him."

"There was some talk of that kind," Will agreed, "and I guess it's as near to the truth as we can get with our present knowledge of the incident. Anyway, I can conceive of no other reason for the abduction."

"Then we may as well get supper while we're studying out the proposition," George said, "and, by way of penance, I'll do the cooking!"

The lad turned to Sandy to ask a question regarding the sudden appearance of the bear steak, and then for the first time noted his dilapidated and generally disreputable condition.

"Where did you get it?" he asked, pointing to the bruised face and torn garments. "You've gone and spoiled a perfectly good Boy Scout suit."

"And the bear we're going to have for supper," Will chuckled, "came very near spoiling a perfectly good Boy Scout."

"Did the bear hand him that?" asked George.

"He certainly did!" replied Sandy. "And he put me out for the count, too!"

"Then I'll take great joy in eating him!" declared George.

While George fried the bear steak over the gasoline "plate," Sandy told the story of the fishing trip, while Will listened with a grin on his face, now and then interrupting with what Sandy declared to be an entirely irrelevant remark.

The big acetylene lamp which, had come in with the boys' baggage had not been set up, so the cabin was now lighted only by flashlights. This made cooking difficult, and George protested against it, so Will went to work setting up the tank and getting the big lamp into use.

"That's better!" exclaimed George, as the great light flashed out. "Now, while I'm cooking the supper, you might look about and see what you can discover in the way of clues. There is an old theory, you know, that no person can enter a room and leave it without their leaving behind some trace of having been there!"

"That's a part of the Sherlock Holmes business that I entirely overlooked!" laughed Will. "Come to think of it, the fellow must have left some clue here. We'll see if we can find it!"

While Sandy and George worked industriously over the gasoline "plate," frying bear meat and fish, and making toast and coffee, Will began a thorough search of the cabin floor. He moved about for some moments on his hands and knees, studying the rough boards through a microscope.

When he came to the bunk he examined that in the same careful and painstaking way. Sandy and George pretended to be very much amused at his alleged posing as an investigator, but the boy paid no attention to their smiles and sarcastic remarks.

All through the meal Will kept his own counsel as to what he had discovered, if anything. His chums quizzed him unmercifully, but he gave out no information regarding discoveries until after the meal was completed and they sat, wrapped in their heavy coats, before the stripped table, now bearing only empty dishes.

"Now tell us about it!" demanded Sandy. "How tall was this man who carried Bert, away?"

"Five feet six," replied Will.

"Black or white?"

"Black hair and eyes and whiskers."

"Fat or lean?"

"Neither, just heavily built."

"Come, Smarty," Sandy laughed, "perhaps you'll be kind enough to go on now and tell us the color of his necktie."

"He didn't wear any necktie!" answered Will. "He wore a leather hunting shirt and leather leggins. His hands were protected from the mosquitos by leather gloves. He wore moccasins."

"Will you be kind enough to tell us what he had for supper last night?" asked Sandy. "Also, can you tell us which side he sleeps on nights?"

"This is no joke!" Will answered. "I really think I have a good description of the man who abducted Bert. And I think, too, that the description will serve to locate him."

"That's all right!" laughed George, "when Tommy comes back, we'll have him get out his dream book and read you to sleep!"

"Yes," Will said gravely, "when Tommy comes back with the surgeon."

"It would be a rotten proposition, wouldn't it, if Tommy should get back with the surgeon before we found Bert?"

"It certainly would," answered Will.

"Tommy can't possibly get back before some time tomorrow night," Sandy argued, "and we ought to be able to find the boy before that time!"

"Especially as Will has a perfect description of the outlaw," said George with a wink at Sandy.

Then the boy added with a laugh:

"Go on, Will, and tell us how you know the man's size and weight."

"Yes," Sandy broke in. "Tell us how you know he's exactly five feet six. You weren't here to measure him!"

"The wall measured him!" replied Will.

"Oh!" exclaimed Sandy with a grin.

"Back there by the door," Will went on, "the man leaned against the wall for some purpose. Of course, I don't know why, but I suspect that he leaned there for a moment to get the boy well balanced in his arms before stepping outside. At any rate, he stood there for an instant with a broad back braced against the dusty logs. You can see where the top of his head came, without getting up."

"That's reasonable!" replied Sandy. "Now tell us how you know he has black hair and eyes."

"He left half a dozen hairs on the pillow at Bert's bunk," replied Will. "Also he left coarser black hairs which evidently came from his face. They lie there on the table."

The boys examined the hairs curiously, and then Will asked:

"What do you think of it?"

"I think," replied Sandy, "that Bert regained consciousness while he was being lifted from the bunk and got in a couple of digs at the fellow's hair and whiskers."

"The motion which removed the hair and whiskers," suggested George, "might have been entirely involuntary."

"That's very true!" answered Will. "It doesn't seem to me that the boy regained consciousness. If he had, he would have made such objections to being taken away that George would have been awakened. At any rate the hairs are here, and that is sufficient!"

"Now tell us how you know about the bulk of the fellow."

"The marks on the wall show that," replied Will.

"What do you know about his leather leggins, hunting shirt and gloves?" asked Sandy. "I know about the moccasins, because I saw the tracks on the floor myself. He must be an Indian if he wore moccasins."

"I never saw an Indian with long whiskers!" replied Will.

"Well, go on and tell us about the leather he wore," urged George.

"The hunting shirt," Will replied with a smile, as he pointed to a small piece of leather lying on the table, "was patched and in the struggle at the bunk the patch was torn away. A cloth garment, you know," he continued, "wouldn't be apt to be patched with leather."

The boys looked at the leather patch, not much larger than a silver dollar, and nodded their heads.

"The marks on the wall where the outlaw seems to have balanced his burden, show that he wore leather gloves," Will continued. "You can see the blunt mark where he threw up a hand to steady himself. The fingers of a cloth glove would have shown narrower."

"I guess you've got the Sherlock Holmes part of it all right!" said George, "so all we've got to do now is to find the boy!"

"But this will help!" Sandy argued. "At least we know what kind of a man to look for. By the way, how did you know that he wore leather leggins?"

"He lost a buckle!" replied Will. "I found it on the floor under Bert's bunk. And so, you see," the boy went on, "when we find a man wearing leather leggins from which a buckle has been lost, we'll be perfectly justified in keeping close watch of him."

"It seems as if there must have been a struggle here!" George argued in a moment. "The man lost hair, whiskers, a buckle, and a patch off his hunting shirt! I don't see how I could have slept through it all!"

"Well, you did!" returned Sandy, "and that's all there is to it!"

"Are we going out tonight?" asked George.

"Of course, we are!" answered Sandy. "We're not going to crawl into bed in comfort and leave Bert in the hands of some brigand!"

Will held up his hand for silence, and the boys sat looking at each other with questioning eyes as a soft knock came on one of the windows.

In an instant their eyes were turned in the direction of the sound, and what they saw caused them to spring excitedly to their feet.

During the silence which followed, the sound of a heavy footstep was heard at the door of the cabin. When they looked again nothing was to be seen at the window.

Chapter X

IN LUCK AT LAST

Instead of moving toward the dinghy, the boys sprang to the top of the trunk cabin and dashed forward toward the wheel.

With an oath Jamison tried to clamber back to the deck of the motor boat, but the dinghy was just then performing a bit of nautical gymnastics at the bottom of a trough and he did not succeed in reaching the desired footing. He fell back into the bottom of the boat, cursing the two rowers because they had not assisted him.

As Frank and Tommy sprang forward over the cabin the man at the wheel released his hold and reached for a pistol. The boat swung around and would have been capsized only that Frank seized the wheel and brought her head to the waves again.

The wheelsman struck a savage blow at the boy as he threw the wheel around, and was in turn the object of attack from Tommy. The two went to the deck together and came near being thrown into the sea.

When the short battle ended the wheelsman lay on the deck unconscious, his head rolling from side to side as the boat tossed about on the waves. In the fall his head had struck the rail.

Seeing that Jamison and the rowers were still trying to board the motor boat, Sam rushed to the after deck and threatened them with his revolver. In a moment Jamison presented a thirty-eight at the boy's head.

"This is piracy!" he shouted. "Surrender, or I'll blow your head off! This is piracy, I tell you!"

The only reply to the man's threat was the increased clatter of the motors. Tommy had turned on full power, and Frank was heading the craft for the mouth of Copper river. As she drew away from the dinghy, several harmless shots were fired.

"That was a close shave!" Tommy declared as the three boys gathered on the forward deck. "If Jamison hadn't been a fool, we couldn't have done it! Can you find your way to Cordova, Frank?" he added.

"Sure I can!" was the reply, "but I take it that we don't want to go there just now."

"And why not?" asked Tommy is surprise.

"Because this is piracy, all right!" exclaimed the boy. "Old Jamison was right, and he'll have all the officers along the coast after us as soon as he gets to land. We're in bad with the cops now."

"But Jamison won't be able to get to land tonight!" suggested Sam.

"Indeed he won't!" agreed Frank. "He'll have to pull in toward the island and lie there on his oars until daylight."

"Can't he land?" asked Tommy.

"I don't think he can land in the dark!" was the reply.

"Why can't we get to Cordova and get back here with the surgeon before he can communicate with the officers?" asked Tommy. "We can't afford to go into hiding just now. We've got to get the doctor up to the cabin, and we've got to find out what that code message contained."

"How far is it from here to Cordova?" asked Frank.

"It must be about thirty-five or forty miles," replied Sam. "If the waves wouldn't keep us traveling up and down all the time, we ought to make it in about three hours."

"Jamison was trying to make us believe he was doing a fine thing if he took us to Cordova and back in ten or twelve hours!" said Tommy.

"I don't think he intended to take us to Cordova at all!" insisted Sam.

"Well," Tommy argued, "there's no way he can stop us until we get to Cordova, and he can't stop us then unless he reaches the coast or gains the wireless station before we leave the town. Once out on the gulf again, with the surgeon on board, we'll reach Katalla in spite of Jamison, and start the doctor toward the cabin."

"Then here goes for the town!" cried Frank, turning on an extra bit of power and sending the boat through the waves like a meteor.

It was rough riding, but the boys were fairly good seamen and stood the shaking up well.

About midnight the wheelsman began showing signs of consciousness. He sat up on the swaying deck and motioned for water.

"Tip him overboard!" advised Sam.

"Aw, give him a drink," argued Tommy. "If you'd had had as much red liquor during the last few hours as he's had, you'd want to connect with the water cooler, I guess! Give the man a show!"

"Where are you taking the motor boat?" asked the wheelsman.

"Cordova."

"Is that right about your wanting a surgeon?"

"That is right!" replied Tommy.

"Where is he wanted?" asked the wheelsman, who had given the name of Boswell. "Why didn't you bring the sick boy out with you?"

"Because we thought it better to take the surgeon to him!" replied Tommy. "The boy really wasn't able to be moved!"

"Fever?" asked Boswell.

Tommy hesitated a moment before replying. He was in doubt as to just how much he ought to tell Boswell. The fellow seemed to be friendly enough, and might be useful in case the lads were arrested for piracy, as, if he saw fit, he could testify that Jamison was not carrying out his agreement with them, but, instead, was planning to maroon them on a barren island in the gulf. Owing to these considerations it seemed best to keep on good terms with the fellow, and yet Tommy did not care to describe in full what had taken place at the cabin.

"No, the boy isn't sick of fever," Tommy finally answered. "He received a wound on the head and lies unconscious."

Both boys thought they saw Boswell give a quick start, but in a moment his face was as impassive as ever.

"Do you know what Jamison was up to?" asked Sam after a short pause.

Boswell looked keenly at the boy before answering.

"I only know what he told me!" be replied.

"What did he tell you?"

"He said he had a joke on you boys; that he was charging you three hundred dollars for a trip to Cordova, and that he meant to leave you on the first little island in the gulf that he came to."

"Did he tell you why he was going to do that?" asked Tommy.

Again Boswell looked keenly at his questioner.

"I guess I'd better not answer that question," he said finally.

"I wish you would answer it," Tommy urged. "I ought to know just what motive the fellow has for throwing obstacles in my way.

"He thinks it's funny!" answered Boswell.

"That isn't the correct answer," Tommy insisted. "He has some motive for what he is trying to do. I'd like to know what that motive is."

"You can't find out from me!" declared Boswell.

"You must be a chum of his!" sneered Sam.

"I hate the ground he walks on!" replied Boswell. "I wouldn't have hired out to him at all if I hadn't been drunk. But I'm not going to repeat to any one what he told me in confidence!"

"We shall have to put you off some distance this side of Cordova," Tommy suggested, "because if we don't you're likely to make us trouble by reporting the case of alleged piracy as soon as we land."

"You needn't trouble yourself about my reporting anything," Boswell answered. "I'm not mixing with Jamison's affairs! If you boys are arrested for piracy, I'll tell all I know about it, and that won't do you any harm."

Dawn came slowly that morning, for heavy clouds were gathering in the sky. The short Arctic night came to an end at last, however, and in the murky distance the boys saw the long coast line. Shortly after three o'clock they passed the wireless station and landed, not without some difficulty at Cordova.

They found the town asleep, of course, but after a time an early riser directed them to the residence of a surgeon. They arranged with him to meet them later in the day and at once set out for the wireless station. It was two hours before they saw the operator coming to his post of duty.

He remembered Frank, and willingly promised to at once open communication with Seattle and take up the work of securing a duplicate of the code message. He explained that a copy had been kept, but that it had been destroyed by a careless janitor, who had said that he could make nothing at all of the jumble of words and letters!

As soon as Seattle answered the Cordova call, a duplicate of the code telegram was asked for, and Seattle undertook to place the request on the wire and cause it to be rushed through to Chicago.

"We ought to receive the answer some time this afternoon," the operator said as the boys started away.

Chapter XI

MAKING NEW PLANS

When the boys returned to the floating dock at which the motor boat had been tied during their absence at the station they found Boswell sitting in the cabin in a crouching attitude.

"Did you get what you wanted?" he asked.

Tommy shook his head.

"Then," continued the sailor, "you'd better give over trying to get it for the present and duck away from here! You'll have trouble if you don't!"

"What do you mean by that?" asked Frank.

"Do you see the tug coming up the bay?" asked Boswell.

"Certainly!" was the reply.

"Well, she's been signalling to have this boat held until she arrives! And the chances are that she picked up Jamison and his pirates somewhere near the island where you left them."

"Then, of course, Jamison will want us arrested for piracy?" asked Tommy tentatively. "I presume that's what it means."

"Well", Boswell replied, "when you take another man's boat and leave him afloat in a dinghy, you must expect something to come of it besides kisses. Of course you'll be arrested!"

Frank gave a long, low whistle of dismay.

"Then," he said, "we'll have to go and notify the surgeon of what's coming off and get him to go on to the cabin alone."

"Yes" Tommy added, "and we can tell him to inform the boys what's going on here. We may have to remain here for several days if we are actually arrested."

"But how about the code duplicate?" asked Sam.

"I presume that will have to remain with us unless it comes before the doctor leaves for the cabin," Tommy answered.

"Look here," Sam said, "you two boys are the fellows Jamison wants. He won't put up much of a search for me. You go back to the wireless station and tell the operator to deliver the code duplicate to me and I'll see that it gets to the cabin."

"It's all right of you to make the offer," Tommy replied, "but there's no one at the camp that can read it."

"Then why can't Frank slip away and get the message to camp?" inquired Sam.

"Will certainly ought to have it," suggested Tommy.

"I'll tell you what we'd better do," Frank advised. "We'd better make a rush for the Cordova dock before that tug gets in. Then we can arrange with the doctor to go on to the cabin by any conveyance he can secure while we take a sneak into the wilderness and get back when we can and as we can. That's better than being arrested."

"I'm for it!" declared Sam. "But how will you obtain possession of the wireless when it comes if you duck away in advance of the arrival of the tug? The message won't be here as soon as the tug is."

The boys pondered over this proposition for a moment, and then Frank came to the front with another suggestion.

"I'll go back to the wireless station," he said, "and arrange for the operator to leave the message in some secret hiding place where we can get it after nightfall."

"I don't like this fugitive-from-justice business!" exclaimed Tommy.

"I don't either," replied Frank, "but it's a long ways better than lying in some dirty old jail. We can arrange here with father's agent to find out what sort of a case they've got against us, and pick out a good lawyer to represent us, so we'll be all ready to defend ourselves when the arrest is finally made."

"Your father has an agent here?" asked Tommy, regarding Frank suspiciously. "What business is he in?"

"Oh, quit it!" replied Frank. "We haven't any time to talk about private affairs. What we've got to do right now is to find out how we're going to escape arrest at this time. I'll go and make the arrangement with the operator, and we'll all make the arrangements with the doctor, and then we three boys will start across country to the little old log cabin in the lane!"

"There ain't no lane there!" grinned Tommy.

"There may be some time, when that part of the country becomes a suburb of Cordova!" laughed Frank. "But I reckon I'd better be getting back to the wireless office. That tug's coming in hand over hand!"

The boy was back from the office inside of ten minutes, but by that time the tug was so near that the motor boat was obliged to shoot ahead at full speed in order to keep clear of her. The boys saw Jamison standing by the captain urging him to greater efforts in the speed direction, and saw him shake a huge, ham-like fist in their direction as the motor boat left the tug behind.

"I'll tell you why I want to leave the case in the hands of a lawyer here," Frank said, as the boat shot toward the Cordova dock, "Jamison doesn't want to prosecute us boys for piracy. He's interested in some way in this case you are here to handle, and he wants to keep us under lock and key until something he wants done can be accomplished."

"I'm sure that's right!" Tommy answered.

"I don't know much about this thumb-print case," Frank went on, "but I believe that this man Jamison is trying to make sure that you boys don't get hold of the drawings you are looking for. Of course I have no proof, but I'm sure that, in the long run, you'll find that I'm right?"

The motor boat made such good time in the run for the Cordova dock that the tug was nearly out of sight when the boys climbed into the main street of the town.

"Now," Tommy said, as they all stood together at the principal business place of the town, "Frank can go and make sure that the doctor will start for the cabin immediately, and Sam and I will go and buy provisions for the cross country trip. We may be two or three days in making it, and we'll surely want to eat on the way."

"But we can't get the wireless until night!" urged Frank. "He's going to bring it to Cordova tonight and leave it in the old blacksmith shop just back of the line of store buildings."

"Well, we can get all ready to go," Tommy urged. "We don't want to take any chances on being pinched just as we get ready to leave!"

"We'll meet at the old shop in half an hour," Frank suggested, "and then we can make all the plans necessary."

Tommy noticed that afternoon that a strange fatality seemed to accompany all of Jamison's efforts to cause the arrest of the boys. First, there was no Federal officer in the town. Next, there was no judicial or ministerial officer before whom a complaint of piracy could be made. Next, the motor boat owner and his two outlaws accosted Boswell on the street and made to him insulting remarks concerning his championship of the boys.

Following this there was a general mixup, in which Boswell was not permitted to fight alone, and the result was that Jamison and his two sailors were badly beaten up. However, while the lads knew exactly what was taking place, and understood the hostility of the town toward Jamison, they understood, too, that it would be the duty of almost any officer to arrest them if they should make their appearance on the public street.

Tommy wondered vaguely at the hostility displayed toward Jamison, but Frank explained it all by saying that the fellow was a common loafer and hadn't a friend in town.

The boys might have been arrested a dozen times that day had the hostility to Jamison and his men not taken such positive form. But while Jamison, half-intoxicated, roared about the street, the boys kept as quiet as possible and so escaped general notice.

About two in the afternoon the boys were very much surprised to see a gentleman who had been pointed out to them as the surgeon walk into the old blacksmith shop where they sat. He beckoned Frank to one side and the two engaged in a short but apparently satisfactory conversation, at the conclusion of which the doctor shook the boy's hand heartily.

"All right," he said on taking his departure, "I'll attend to the matter at once! I know the operator and it'll be all right there."

"Now, what's up?" demanded Tommy suspiciously.

"I've got a new scheme!" replied the boy.

"Pass it around!" urged Tommy.

"Now, you just wait until I see whether the doctor gets the message or not!" replied Frank. "If he does, it's us for a ride home!"

"I'd like to steal that old drunkard's motor boat!" Tommy said.

Frank broke into a hearty laugh.

"You just wait and see!" he said. "We've got to be mighty careful to keep away from the Federal officers, for a deputy marshal has been sent for. Can you get up a good hot run if you have to?"

"You bet I can!" answered Tommy.

"Well, we may get a signal to make a hot foot to the dock directly," the boy went on, "and if we do, there mustn't be any mistake about the pace you set."

"Are you really going to steal the motor boat?" asked Sam.

"I don't know!" replied Frank. "We've been waiting around here all day for something to take place, and I guess it's about time there was something doing."

"I thought you were going to wait until night before sneaking out with the despatch," suggested Tommy, eyeing his friend suspiciously.

"When we made those plans," replied Frank with a grin, "I didn't know how many friends I had in town."

"Is the doctor going with us?" asked Tommy.

"No," was the reply, "we are going with him!"

"Aw, have it your own way," Tommy exclaimed. "I never could get any satisfaction talking with you!"

The doctor returned to the old blacksmith shop in an hour and called Frank outside. The two talked together for a moment, and then the boy called out the wonderful news that they wouldn't even have to run to the dock; that a carriage was waiting for them!

"Something mighty funny about this!" mused Tommy. "I'd like to know who that boy is that has such luck in Alaska! Anyone would think he owns the town, the way things are shaping themselves here!"

A moment later a wagon drawn by a pair of sturdy horses made its appearance in front of the old blacksmith shop, and the boys took their seats. As they did so the sound of a pistol shot came from around the corner and Jamison dashed into view, hatless, coatless, very red in the face and very excited as to manner.

By his side appeared a man whom the doctor at once recognized as a Federal officer. He came to a halt when he saw the boys in the wagon.

"Wait!" he commanded, "I have warrants for your arrest!"

Chapter XII

ANOTHER LOST "BULLDOG"

The step outside the cabin door halted, and the boys stood silent for a moment, hardly knowing whether to dispute the stranger's entrance or to admit him with a show of courtesy.

While they waited, Will glanced at the window and saw the flutter of a white hand on the pane.

"That's the Boy Scout salute!" he said.

"Another Boy Scout?" whispered Sandy. "I wonder if it rains Boy Scouts up here in Alaska!"

"I wish there were a thousand here!" George declared.

"I don't care how many Boy Scouts show up just now," Will argued, "but I would like to know where they all come from!"

There now came a knock on the door and a gruff voice demanded admittance.

"Shall I open the door?" whispered Will.

"May as well," answered George.

When the door swung open, a stout man of middle age presented himself in the opening. After casting a keen glance about the interior he stepped inside and closed the door.

"You boys seem to have taken possession of my home!" he said.

"We found the cabin unoccupied, and took the liberty of using it," Will answered in a conciliatory tone.

"Oh, it's all right!" returned the other. "That's the way I took possession of the place! I found the cabin deserted and just moved in."

"We can vacate if necessary," Will suggested.

"Oh, there's room enough for all of us, I take it!" answered the stranger. "My name is Cameron, and I spend only a day or two here occasionally. I was hoping when I saw your light that you were having a midnight supper. How about something to eat?"

"There's plenty in the cabin!" George replied. "We can give you either fish or bear steak for supper."

"Then I'm glad to find you here!" laughed the other, "for I've been traveling all day and I'm as hungry as a wolf!"

The visitor threw himself into a chair and began a careful survey of the interior, far more searching than the one made from the doorway.

"My name is Cameron, as I said before," he said, "and I'm prospecting for gold."

"Prospecting for gold on a glacier?" asked Will.

"Young man," Cameron replied, "there is plenty of gold in this vicinity. The ice brought it here. I'm being laughed at by my friends," he continued, "because I'm searching for the mother lode. But, all the same, I've every prospect of discovering it!"

"The mother lode in a glacier?" asked Sandy.

"It is my theory," Cameron went on, "that the range of mountains to the north holds gold in large quantities. It is a part of my theory, too, that the drifting ice brought tons of it down to the moraine. If I find any gold here at all, I'll find it in quantities sufficient to clog the money markets of the world!"

Cameron looked from face to face as he spoke, apparently anticipating a burst of enthusiasm from his listeners.

"Up on the Yukon," he went on, "the gold was found under the ice, where it had been deposited by glaciers which are now dead. The same conditions exist here. For all we know, there may be tons of the precious metal at the bottom of the first layer of ice."

"That's very true!" replied Will. "And if you don't mind, we'll stick around a short time and see what you discover."

"Remember," Cameron said then, "that this is my claim!"

"Of course," Will answered, "we wouldn't attempt to rob you of any legitimate discovery."

In the meantime George and Sandy were preparing a supper for the visitor. With their heads bent low over the gasoline "plate," they discussed the personality of the man and his theory in low conversation.

"How tall should you say that fellow was?" asked Sandy.

"About five foot six!" was the reply.

"And he's stout!"

"Decidedly so."

"And he wears a leather hunting shirt, and leather leggins, and he took off a pair of serviceable leather gloves when he entered?"

"I see what you're getting at," George replied, "Can you see whether there's a buckle missing from his leggins?"

"There is!" answered Sandy.

"And a patch missing from his hunting shirt?"

"Just as sure as you're a foot high!"

"Did you ever see such nerve?" whispered George. "He comes here and steals a sick boy, and then has the nerve to return and claim the cabin!"

"Well, I'm glad he came," Sandy whispered back. "All we've got to do now is to play the sleuth when he leaves the cabin."

"You mean that if we follow him in his journeys over the country we'll be apt to find Bert?" asked George.

"That's just the idea!" replied Sandy. "I wonder if his mug is sore where Bert extracted the whiskers?"

"I wonder if he expects to get a good night's sleep, with Bert lying in some uncomfortable hiding place?" George asked. "I'd like to poke him in the mug, just for luck!"

"That wouldn't help us find Bert," Sandy cautioned. "We've just got to be good to him and follow him wherever he goes."

"Watch me put him off his guard," George suggested.

"How long have you been in this neighborhood?" he asked, turning to Cameron. "I ask," the boy continued, "because one of our chums wandered away from the cabin while we were out fishing and hasn't returned."

Cameron's eyes sought the floor for a moment.

"I have just returned from the coast," he said, "so, unless your friend strayed off in that direction, I wouldn't have caught sight of him. Do you mean that he strayed away in the darkness?" he asked.

"No," replied George, "he strayed away this afternoon while temporarily out of his mind. My friends were out fishing, and I was asleep at the time. He received a slight wound on the head, from a fall, not long ago, and that is probably the cause of his aberration of mind."

The boys thought they saw a sudden expression of satisfaction creep over Cameron's face as George finished his explanation.

"If you'll serve Mr. Cameron's supper," Sandy said, giving George a sly wink, "I'll go with Will, and we'll take different directions so as to cover more ground. We are getting anxious about Bert."

Of course the object of the boys in leaving the cabin was to meet the Boy Scout who had signalled to them from the window. When they turned the corner of the cabin, they found a thin, pale lad in a torn and faded khaki uniform leaning against the outer wall.

"Why don't you come in?" asked Will.

"Is the miner in there yet?" asked the boy.

"Yes, he says the cabin belongs to him, and he's going to remain all night! What do you know of him?"

"Nothing at all!" replied the boy, "except that I've been following him for half a dozen miles in the hopes that he would lead me to some place where I could eat and sleep."

"Did you call out to him?" asked Will.

"No," was the answer. "I was afraid he would send me back if I did. Miners in this section are not fond of leading strangers to their claims."

"Where do you belong?" asked Sandy pointing to the Bulldog badge displayed on the boy's ragged coat.

"Bulldog Patrol, Portland," was the reply.

"How'd you get out into this country in such a plight?" asked Will.

"My chum and I," was the reply, "started out to seek our fortunes. We got to Katalla and couldn't get a thing to do. Sam—his name is Sam White—insisted on remaining in town, but I made a break for the country."

"How long since you've had anything to eat?" asked Sandy.

"About twenty-four hours," was the reply.

"Well, come on in, then, and we'll feed you up."

"Of course I'll go, now that I know that you are running the camp," replied the boy. "I suppose I should have gone in anyway, directly, for just as I came up I heard the man knocking at the door. I was still afraid I'd get kicked out if I put in an appearance at any miner's cabin and asked for food, but I should have risked it."

"I didn't know that miners did such things," Sandy observed.

"Some of them do, and some of them don't," replied the boy.

"You haven't given us your name yet," suggested Will.

"Ed Hannon," was the reply.

"Well come on in the cabin, Ed Hannon," laughed Sandy, "and we'll fill you up, but you mustn't say a word about having seen that miner, and if he talks to you about the route by which you approached the cabin lie like a thief! Which way did he come from, anyway?"

"He came from the west," was the reply. "I plumped into him not far from one of the little rivulets which joins Copper river not very far away."

"There!" said Sandy. "Now I guess we've got something tangible".

Chapter XIII

THE BEGINNING OF THE TRAIL

When Will and Sandy entered the cabin with Ed Hannon, Cameron sprang up to meet them. There was a show of excitement in his manner as he exclaimed:

"So you found the lost boy, did you?"

"No," Will replied, "this is not the lost boy, but it is a lost boy!"

"Where did you come from?" asked Cameron hastily, regarding Ed with a pair of bold, black eyes. "How long have you been in this district?"

"I came from Katalla today," answered the boy.

"Tonight, you mean," corrected Cameron.

"I started early this morning," replied Ed, "but I guess I've been wandering around the country a good deal. It seems that I came up to the cottage from the north."

Cameron sank back into his chair with a look of satisfaction on his face. The boys now busied themselves getting a substantial meal for Ed, and the boy was soon attacking a generous slice of bear steak.

If Cameron had the plans bearing the thumb marks, he was certainly the man to keep them concealed if he believed them to be of any value whatever to any one. If he did not have charge of the plans, then the chances were that Vin. Chase, the crooked clerk, had them and that any reference to them in the presence of Cameron would be communicated as soon as possible to the actual holder.

Will was certain that Cameron was the man who had given the name of Len Garman by Mr. Horton in the interview in which he had received his instructions. At that time he did not believe that Cameron, or Garman, whichever his name was, knew anything whatever of the thumb prints on the plans.

He did believe, however, that the fellow would fight to the death for the drawings, not because he believed them to be of value as evidence, but because he believed them to be of great value to one in quest of mining machinery suitable for that section of the country.

Directly Cameron began pacing to and fro in the cabin and occasionally glancing out of the window. There were only a few stars in sight and no moon, but for all that the fellow appeared greatly interested in the landscape outside.

"Are you expecting some one?" Will finally asked.

"Certainly not," was the reply. "Why do you ask such a question?"

"Because you seem anxious about something."

"I am anxious about something," replied Cameron seating himself by Will once more. "I don't like the idea of this boy coming in here with his story of being lost on the moraine.

"You think he came here for a purpose?"

"I must say that I do!"

Will saw that Cameron was fearful that Ed had brought in a message of some kind, and so talked to the point for some moments in the hope of drawing the miner out. But the miner only stared at Ed with his evil eyes and said nothing of importance.

"I know what's eating you, old fellow," Will thought to himself. "You think that there's a gang of Boy Scouts scattered over the moraine looking for Bert, and you're afraid they'll find him!"

Sure enough this prognostication seemed to be the true one, for directly Cameron drew on his head net and leather gloves and walked to the door. He paused there a moment and turned back to say to Will:

"It will soon be morning, and I desire to get to the point of my investigation before daylight. I have been very courteously entertained and shall return to your cabin at night, with your permission."

"I guess it's your cabin rather than mine!" replied Will with a smile. "I think you are acting very decently about our taking possession of it. Of course you'll always find food here as long as we remain."

With a wave of the hand at the group of boys gathered about the table, Cameron went out and closed the door. They heard him moving heavily along toward the east and then came silence.

"He's stopping to see if he's watched," suggested Sandy.

"He'll be watched all right!" George declared.

"But how?" asked Sandy.

"I'm the original sleuth!" George replied with a grin. "I can follow the fellow by the sound of his footsteps, even if he is wearing moccasins!"

"Does any one doubt that Cameron is the man formerly known as Len Garman?" asked Will.

The boys all shook their heads, but Ed turned an inquiring face toward the speaker.

"He gave the name of Cameron here, did he?" he asked.

Will nodded.

"Well, that isn't the name I heard him called by at Katalla," Ed declared.

"So you saw him at Katalla, did you?" asked Sandy.

"Yes, I saw him at Katalla two days ago. He seemed to have a lot of business with a young fellow who appeared to be a stranger in the town."

"What name did ho give there?"

"Brooks!" replied Ed.

"Well, we mustn't stand here chinning while the fellow is getting out of sight," suggested George. "I'm going to take after him right now!"

"Wait," Sandy suggested, "and I'll go with you."

"Do you think he will go straight to Bert?" asked Will.

"I have no doubt of it!" was the reply.

"It's just this way," George went on, "Cameron is suspicious that a great effort is being made to discover the whereabouts of the kidnapped boy, and he can't rest easy until he knows that he is safe. Besides, the fellow would like to know whether Bert had regained consciousness."

"Yes, I presume he is anxious to learn what the code despatch he stole contains," Will answered.

"There was some talk," Sandy said, directly, "about Bert regaining consciousness before he left the cabin. Do you think that possible?"

"No, I don't!" replied George. "I should have heard a struggle had anything of the kind taken place. The fact of the matter is," the boy went on, "that Cameron thinks some one is after the drawings he values so greatly. He found Bert here with the code message and naturally concluded that the cipher referred in some way to his plans."

"Well, come on, then," Sandy urged. "We'll have to be moving if we follow Cameron. I think we've talked too long already."

"Don't you worry about that," Will declared. "Cameron will hang around the cabin for half an hour or more in order to see if any one leaves. Before any one goes out, we'll turn off the light and make a noise like going to sleep. Then, when all is good and dark, you two can slip out and locate the miner if you can."

"Locate him?" repeated Sandy. "We've got to locate him. He'll go straight to Bert and that's exactly where we want to go."

The boys made a great commotion in the cabin as if preparing for bed, and finally the lamp was extinguished, leaving the room in complete darkness.

"Now, be careful when you open the door," whispered Will.

For a wonder the door opened noiselessly on its hinges, and was closed without the slightest jar. Directly Will heard a soft tap at the window and pressed his face against the pane.

"Cameron is still in sight," Sandy's voice said, "and not very far away. He seems to be satisfied that we've all gone to bed, and is heading for the west. Looks like he was following the trail we followed when we went out after fish."

"Go to it, then," Will said. "Don't expose yourselves by being too rash, and don't come back in the morning without bringing Bert with you."

"You watch me!" Sandy replied, and then he was gone.

Chapter XIV

THE LAD WITH THE "DRAG"

When the federal officer appeared in front of the spirited team, announcing that he had a warrant for the arrest of the boys, Tommy and Sam both whispered to the driver to cut loose with the whip.

"Run him down!" Tommy insisted.

"Jump the rig over him!" Sam advised.

The doctor, however, stretched forth a detaining hand and the driver held in the horses.

"That's right!" Frank exclaimed.

"You mustn't get into any quarrel with the officers," Dr. Pelton suggested. "We can soon settle this matter."

"Je-rusalem!" exclaimed Tommy. "Here we've been hanging around an old blacksmith shop all day, and skulking through the streets, and not getting half enough to eat, only to get pinched at the last minute! If I had my way, I'd bump that officer on the coco and make for the landing. We can't stay in this blooming little burg all the rest of our natural lives. Will will be anxious."

"Now don't get excited!" laughed Frank. "We'll get out in, a few minutes, all right."

"If it was so easy to get out in a few minutes," argued Tommy, "why didn't you get out hours ago?"

Frank only laughed as the impatient question and sprang out of the carriage. The doctor alighted, too, and they both stood for a moment in close consultation with the officer.

Jamison, who was now very drunk, stood weaving about in the street, demanding that all the boys, and the doctor, and the driver of the carriage, be thrown into jail on a charge of piracy.

"Don't you think," Frank suggested to the officer, "that this man is too drunk to be out on the street?"

"Why, of course he is," replied the officer beckoning to an associate who stood watching the group from the next corner.

When the associate came up, Jamison was ordered under arrest, and was taken away with many threats and exclamations of rage.

"I don't like this man Jamison any better than you do," the officer said, speaking to Frank and Dr. Pelton, "but the case did look rather bad for the boys, and I had to do something."

"He collected three hundred dollars of me, for a trip to and from Cordova," Frank explained, "and then tried to maroon us on one of the Barren islands. There's a member of his crew back here in the blacksmith shop who will tell you the same story."

"So you paid him three hundred dollars, did you?" asked the officer.

"Yes, sir," answered the boy.

"And you have proof that he tried to maroon you?"

"Yes, sir!"

"And you took the boat only to enforce the contract you had made?"

"That's the idea!" replied Frank.

"Then I'm not going to bother with the case at all!" replied the officer. "If you had come to me with this story the minute Jamison began to rave about arrest, you wouldn't have been put to all this inconvenience."

"I think," grinned Frank, "that Jamison ought to pay us back the three hundred dollars, because he never brought us to Cordova at all, and even if he had, he wouldn't have earned the money until he returned us to Katalla. He ought not to keep the money."

"That's a fact!" exclaimed the officer with a smile at the boy. "I'll go down to the jail and make him give it back."

The officer started away, and Tommy and Sam sat in the carriage regarding Frank with wide open eyes.

"Say, who is that kid?" Tommy asked.

"I don't know," replied Sam.

"Did you notice that any time he said anything to the officer that the officer just fell right in with his ideas?"

"Sure I did," was the reply.

"And did you notice how the doctor paid special attention to every remark he made?"

"I couldn't help but notice it," was the reply.

"Well, that kid's got these fellows up here buffaloed all right," Tommy declared. "And that being the case, I wonder why he didn't use some of his influence hours ago and get us started on the road to Katalla."

"I give it up!" Sam replied.

Frank and the doctor stood talking together for a few moments, and then the federal officer returned and handed two hundred dollars in bank notes over to Frank.

"Jamison thinks he ought to have a hundred dollars because he paid the tug for bringing him and his crew in," the officer said, "and because he's going to let you run his motor boat up to Katalla."

"What do you know about that?" whispered Sam.

"I'll bet that boy's father is president of the United States," replied Tommy. "Or he may be king of England."

"Whoever he is, he's got a pull," replied Sam.

"Drag!" exclaimed Tommy. "Whenever a man's got a dead sure cinch like that, it's a drag and not a pull!"

"Well," the doctor said, "we're losing time! We may as well go to the wireless office and get our code message. I presume it's ready for delivery by this time."

"It's about time we were thinking about that boy with his head in a sling, too!" Tommy suggested.

"It won't take us long to get there now," Doctor Pelton remarked.

The Gulf of Alaska was remarkably smooth, when the vicious habits of that body of water are taken into consideration, and the boys made the run to Katalla without accident in little less than three hours, arriving at the floating dock with the sun still more than three hours in the sky.

"Now for the rotten part of the journey," Tommy suggested. "If we hadn't had to wait for the wireless after we landed at the dock we should have arrived here in time to reach the cabin before dark."

"Who's got the wireless?" asked Sam.

"Frank's got it tucked away under his uniform!" laughed Doctor Pelton. "He wouldn't even let me take a look at the envelope!"

"Do you know what's in it, Frank?" asked Tommy.

"Sure I do," was the reply.

"Then, what's all this mystery about? Why don't you pass the information around?" demanded Tommy impatiently.

"All in good time!" laughed the boy.

"I don't see any use of all this mystery!" Tommy grumbled, turning to Sam, "I get shut out of the inside features of every game I'm in!"

"Now, how do we get to the cabin?" asked the doctor.

"Walk, I suppose," grumbled Tommy. "It's only about fourteen or fifteen miles, and the country between the two points is mostly on end. We ought to get there by an hour or two after midnight, if we don't stop to play marbles on the way."

"If you will all wait here a few moments," Frank said, "I'll go and see what I can do in the shape of a rig."

"A rig!" repeated Tommy. "Fat lot of fun you'd have driving a rig over that moraine!"

"Of course we can't drive clear to the cabin," Frank replied, "but we can get quite along way from the coast if we have a strong team and a good wagon!"

"Yes, I remember smooth country somewhere on the route," replied Tommy.

"But even at best," Frank explained, "we shall have to walk five or six miles, so we may as well be getting busy."

In a very few minutes Frank returned with a pair of strong horses and wagon more desirable for its strength than its comfort.

"Where'd you find it?" asked Tommy.

"Sent a wireless ahead asking for it!" replied Frank.

"I wish you'd send a wireless over to the cabin," Tommy grinned, "and ask the boys to have supper all ready when we get there, and you might suggest that Sandy and George meet us a half a mile this side with a pie under each arm."

"I believe if that kid should ask to have some one dip him a blue blazer out of an ice cold spring it would be done," Sam whispered to Tommy, as the party clambered into the wagon.

"He's certainly got a drag somewhere!" replied Tommy.

"Things are running pretty smoothly boys," suggested Doctor Pelton as the straggling buildings of the coast town disappeared from view.

"They're running too smoothly!" exclaimed Tommy. "First thing we know, there'll be a cylinder head blowing out, or a volcanic eruption, or something of that kind. We've been having things altogether too easy ever since we landed at Cordova."

"Just listen a moment," Frank said, "I guess there's something going to happen, right now!"

There came a long, low rumbling sound, apparently moving from east to west, followed by a tipping of the moraine which almost brought the horses to their knees.

"It would never answer," Tommy grumbled, "for us to make a trip to Alaska without bunting into a glacier ready to smash up things!"

"That's not a glacial slide!" Frank said. "It's an earthquake!"

Chapter XV

A BREAK IN THE GLACIER

"An earthquake?" repeated Tommy. "I thought they never had earthquakes in Alaska any more!"

"There are few weeks when there are no earthquakes!" was the reply.

"Well, when's it going to stop quaking?" asked Sam, springing out of the wagon. "It seems to me that we're getting a sleigh ride!"

The others followed his example, and stood in a moment within fifty feet of a slowly widening chasm which seemed to run from east to west across the entire moraine. They had just reached the timber line when the disturbance began, and now they saw trees a hundred feet in height and from six to eight inches in diameter dropping like matches into the great opening in the earth.

"Gee!" exclaimed Tommy. "The breath of the earthquake is enough to freeze one! I wish I had a couple of fur coats!"

The boy expressed the situation very accurately, for the opening of the moraine revealed the mighty mass of ice which lay under it. The glacier which had lain dead under the mat of vegetation for how many hundred years no one would ever know, showed far down in the great cavern, and a gust of wind sighing through the ragged jaws laid a chill over the little party.

Slowly the chasm widened. The ground under the boys' feet seemed to be unsteady. With a swaying motion it dropped off toward the coast, except at the very edge of the cavern, which seemed to be doubling down like a lip folded inside the mouth.

"It strikes me," Frank said, "that we would better be getting the team out of the track of that chasm! If we don't, the horses and wagon will take a drop."

Tommy and Sam both sprang forward, but it was too late! The southern line of the chasm seemed, to drop away for fifty feet or more, and trees and rocks crashed into the opening. The horses and the wagon went down with the rest. The screams of the frightened horses cut the air for an instant, and then all was silent.

"Rotten!" cried Tommy.

"Fierce!" shouted Sam.

"Awful!" declared Doctor Pelton.

Frank stood looking at the ever-widening chasm for a moment and then faced toward the coast.

"We'll have to walk around it now, I'm thinking," Tommy said, in a moment. "And a nice job we've got!"

As far as the eye could see the chasm extended, now growing in size, now contracting. A pale blue mist rose out of the opening, and the air was that of an August day no longer.

The sliding motion continued, and the chasm increased its width.

"Will it never stop?" asked Sam, almost thrown to the ground by a quick convulsion of the surface.

"Not just yet!" replied the Doctor gravely. "I can tell you in a moment just what has taken place. The weight of soil and timber on top of the dead glacier is shifting. The volcanic action tipped the moraine to the south and it broke, opening the way to the ice below. There is no knowing how serious the break may be. For all we know, the upheaval may send this whole moraine into the Gulf of Alaska."

"That's a cheerful proposition, too!" Tommy exclaimed.

"I wish I could get close enough to the chasm to look down," Sam observed. "I'll bet it's a thousand feet!"

"You'd better not try that!" advised Frank.

"The question before the house at the present moment," the doctor said, "is how I am going to get to my patient."

"Can't we get across this little crack in the earth?" asked Sam.

"That depends on the length of it!" answered Frank. "If the Doctor's theory is correct, this whole point has cracked away from the glacier above. In that case, we may be obliged to in some way work ourselves to the bottom of the chasm and up on the other side."

"We never can do that!" Sam insisted.

"Alaska is full of just such gorges as this one," Frank explained. "The whole country is resting on an icy foundation, and earthquakes find congenial conditions when it comes to cracking the crust. We don't know how long this chasm is, but the chances are that it isn't as long now as it will be!"

"Yes," agreed the doctor. "The chances are that the chasm started here today will continue to grow in length until it cuts across the point of land between Controller bay and the Bering glacier. I have known chasms of this character to travel fifty miles in a night, and I have known them to walk with such dignity that it took them ten years to go ten miles."

"But there must be some way of getting across it!" exclaimed Tommy. "Everything has been going all right up to now, and we're not going to be kept away from the cabin by any such playful little earthquake as this!"

"We'll do the best we can," Frank said gravely.

The boys turned to the east and west and traversed the line of the chasm for long distances. In places the width was not more than thirty feet. In others it was at least a hundred. Occasionally the walls of soil and ice sloped down at an angle of forty degrees, in other places the wall was vertical.

Within an hour the sound of running water was plainly heard, and the boys understood that the convulsion of nature had opened a reservoir somewhere in the glacier, and that the long chasm would soon become a rushing torrent. The prospect was discouraging.

"I wish we had an airship!" suggested Tommy, as they came back to the starting place, a few minutes before the night closed down upon the moraine. "It's provoking to think that we can't get across a little chasm not any wider than a street in old Chicago!"

"I think I could get along very well with a derrick!" said Sam.

After a long conference, it was decided to keep to the west and endeavor to pass around the chasm in that direction.

"We certainly can't remain here inactive," the doctor argued. "We've got to go one way or the other, and I think the chances are better toward the west!"

"It will soon be good and dark," cried Tommy, "and then we'll have to make some kind of a camp for the night."

"I've got a searchlight with me," suggested Frank.

"So've I," answered Tommy.

"I'll tell you one thing we forgot," Sam cut in. "You didn't make Jamison give up your automatics!"

"Don't you ever think we didn't," Tommy answered. "That is," he continued, "the officer made him give them up. At least he brought them back when he came from the jail!"

"Seems to me," Tommy added, looking at Frank critically, "that you've got some kind of a drag with the people at Cordova."

"Never mind that now," Frank replied. "What we need now is some kind of a drag to get us across this chasm."

The electrics illuminated only a narrow path, but the boys and the doctor made fairly good time as they advanced toward the west.

After walking at least a mile and finding no narrowing in the surface opening, the boys stopped once more for consultation.

While they stood on the edge of the chasm considering the situation, a bright blaze leaped up some distance to the north.

"Some one's burning green boughs!" exclaimed Tommy.

"How do you know that?" asked Sam.

"Look at the white smoke!" answered Tommy. "I guess if you had made and answered as many Boy Scout smoke signals as I have, you'd know how to make a smudge."

"It's so bloomin' dark I couldn't tell whether the smoke is while or black!" declared Sam. "I can see only the bulk of it."

"If it was good and black," Tommy answered, "we couldn't see it so plainly. And, come to think about it," he added, laying a hand excitedly on Frank's shoulder, "there are two columns of smoke."

"I see the two now," Frank answered. "One column has just begon to show. You know what that means, of course!"

"It means a Boy Scout signal for assistance," replied Tommy.

Doctor Pelton turned to the boys with an anxious face.

"Do you really mean that?" he asked.

"Sure we do!" replied Tommy. "Two columns of smoke ask for help."

"Then there must be Boy Scouts in trouble on the other side of the chasm!" the doctor concluded.

"That's about the size of it!" Frank exclaimed.

"Look here," Tommy declared, "we've just got to get across that crack! I wonder if it would be possible to find walls so slanting that we could pass down this side and up the other."

"Well, even if we did," Sam argued, "there's a rush of water at the bottom. I don't see how we could get across that."

"I know how we can get across it if we find the walls accommodating," Tommy exclaimed. "You saw how the trees tumbled into the chasm, didn't you? Well, if we can find a place where the moraine was heavily wooded, we'll find a bridge of tree trunks across any water there may be at the bottom! And the bridge may not be very far down, either!"

"Great head, little man!" laughed Frank.

"You ought to consider the matter very seriously before entering the chasm at all," suggested the doctor. "Remember that it is uncertain as to size and that the walls are liable to crumble."

"But see here," exclaimed Tommy, "there's a Boy Scout signal for help on the other side, and we've just got to get across! For all we know, the cabin may have been wrecked by the earthquake, and the boys may have been injured in some way!"

"I'm game to go!" shouted Sam.

"Of course I'll go with you," the doctor went on. "In fact, I am satisfied that you are doing the right thing in making the attempt to cross. I only uttered a warning which we must all heed whenever we come to a place where a crossing seems possible."

The boys soon discovered a place where the walls did not appear to be very steep and where the mass of trees which had fallen completely covered the bottom. Then, cautiously feeling their way, they crept down.

Chapter XVI

GEORGE AND SANDY CAUGHT

When George and Sandy left the cabin they saw the figure of the miner very dimly outlined away to the west.

"We ought to get closer," Sandy whispered. "First thing we know, he'll duck down into some hollow, and that'll be the last of him for the night. I guess we can creep up without his catching us at it."

"Of course we can!" replied George. "He's making so much noise himself that he can't hear us! He wouldn't make much of a Boy Scout when it came to stalking, would he?"

The boys succeeded in getting pretty close to the miner; so close in fact, that occasionally they heard him muttering to himself as he stumbled over rocks and occasionally became entangled in such underbrush as grew along the top of the moraine.

"We can't be very far away from the place where the bear tried to beat me up," Sandy whispered, as they drew up for a moment. "I wouldn't mind having a bite out of that same bear just about now!"

After a time they came to the head waters of the creek in which Will and Sandy had fished, and saw Cameron standing on the other side.

"He's going into the mountains!" whispered Sandy.

"That's exactly where he's keeping Bert," George agreed.

In a short time Cameron paused in his walk and uttered a low whistle.

"What do you think of that?" asked Sandy. "He's going to meet some one here. And that means," the boy went on, "that he's had a pal watching Bert while he's been away."

"And it also means," George added, "that we can't be very far from the spot where Bert is concealed. I hope so, anyway, for I'm about tired enough to crawl into my little nest in the cabin."

"I should think you'd talk about sleep!" scoffed Sandy. "You slept all the afternoon!"

"If you mention that long sleep of mine again," George said half-angrily, "I'll tip you over into the creek. I'm sore over that myself!"

While the boys stood waiting end listening an answering whistle came from the side of a mountain not far from the rivulet.

"There's his chum!" whispered Sandy. "If we get up nearer, we may be able to hear what they say."

The boys crept along under the dim light of the infrequent stars, and finally crouched down behind an angle of rock which was not more than twenty feet removed from where Cameron stood.

They had hardly taken their position when a second figure made its appearance. The two stood talking together in whispers for a short time and then started to walk away.

"There's something doing, all right!" exclaimed Sandy.

"Yes, indeed, there is!" agreed George. "They wouldn't come out into such a hole as this after midnight to tell each other what good fellows they are, or anything like that."

"I'm getting suspicious!" Sandy chuckled.

"Why suspicious?"

"Because those fellows whispered!"

"I see the point," replied George. "From our standpoint those fellows were all alone here in one of the wild places of Alaska, yet they drew close together and whispered when they communicated with each other!"

"They wouldn't do that," urged Tommy, "unless they were afraid of being overheard. It shows that they believe some one to be watching them."

The two men were now moving quite swiftly up the slope of the mountain. At times they were entirely hidden by the luxuriant growths, and at times they came out on little bald spots where rock outcropped to the exclusion of vegetation. The boys followed on into the thickets, pausing now and then to listen for the sounds of the advance of the others.

Presently they came to a shelf of rock which overlooked the valley of the rivulet. They paused for a moment to listen for the sounds of those in advance when a strong electric searchlight was thrown on their faces and they saw the grim, round barrel of an automatic pointing at their breasts.

"You may as well hand over your automatics, boys!" Cameron said.

"And be quick about it, too."

This last sentence came from a thin, cadaverous looking fellow whose face was only half revealed through the meshes of the head net.

There was nothing for the boys to do but to pass over their revolvers. Their searchlights were also taken from them, and then their hands were tied tightly behind their backs.

"Did you have a pleasant tramp through the woods?" asked Cameron.

"Say," growled Sandy, "if you'll just turn my hands loose, I'll give you a poke in the jaw!"

"That wouldn't be polite!" sneered Cameron.

"Don't take any lip from the young imps," snarled the other. "They've given us enough trouble already!"

"You're a foxy old gink!" exclaimed Sandy. "I wish I had you on South Clark street, Chicago, for a few minutes!"

"So that's why you came to the cabin is it?" asked George.

"Certainly," replied Cameron. "I had an idea that you'd follow me away! You see I figured it out exactly right!"

"Why did you want to make trouble for us?" asked Sandy.

"Because you're too smart!" answered Cameron.

"What do you mean by that?"

"When you sat sizing me up in the cabin while I was eating supper," Cameron went on, "you informed me as plainly as words could have done that you knew me to be the man who had abducted your friend."

"You didn't show that you knew," George suggested.

"I tried not to show that I knew," answered the other.

"What'd you steal Bert for?" asked Sandy.

"I needed him in my business," answered Cameron.

"Come, don't stand here all night talking with the little guttersnipes!" exclaimed Cameron's companion. "We've got work to do!"

"March along, then, boys!" Cameron ordered.

The lads were now pushed forward into a cavern which opened on the shelf of rock where they had been taken prisoners. The opening in the mountain side seemed to be of considerable size, for the boys passed from an outer chamber of fair dimensions to two smaller ones further in.

In the last of these chambers, on a huddle of blankets, lay the boy for whom they had been searching.

"Is he dead?" asked Sandy.

"No such luck," snarled Cameron.

"If you'll untie my hands, I'll look after him," George said.

The bonds were cut and George bent over the still figure.

"Has he regained consciousness at all?" he asked.

Cameron turned to his companion.

"Tell them, Fenton," he said, "whether the lad woke up during my absence. You were here all the time?" he added.

"Yes, I was here all the time!" answered Fenton. "And the lad never opened his eyes once. That was a deuce of a blow you gave him, Cameron!"

"And what did you gain by it?" demanded Sandy.

"We'll show you directly what we gained by it!" Cameron answered.

Seeing a bucket of water at one side of the cavern, George carried it over to the heap of blankets where the boy lay and began bathing his forehead and wrists. The boy groaned feebly but did not speak.

"What did you hit him with?" asked George angrily.

"The handle of my gun!" was the sullen reply.

"Why?" asked Sandy.

"Because I wanted to get a paper he had."

"Well, you got it, didn't you?" asked the boy.

"Yes, I got it!"

"And much good it did you, too!" said George angrily.

"Look here!" Cameron almost shouted, "can either one of you boys read that code despatch?"

George shook his head.

"Is there any one at the cabin who can read it?"

"I have never known of any member of the party reading the cipher," replied George. "I never have seen a code despatch before."

"You are lying to me!" shouted Cameron. "The boy to whom the despatch was addressed can certainly read it! Which one of you bears the name of Will Smith? Don't lie to me now!"

"Will Smith is at the cabin!" replied Sandy.

"Just my luck!" shouted Cameron.

"What do you want to know about the code despatch?" asked Sandy.

"I want to know what it contains. And what is more, I'm going to know, too! I want one of you boys to write a note to this Will Smith and get him to come here to this cave."

"Not for mine!" exclaimed Sandy.

George made no verbal reply, but the expression of his face showed that he had no intention of doing anything of the kind.

"It will be the worse for you if you don't!" shouted Cameron.

"Oh, you've got the top hand for a few minutes now," Sandy said, tauntingly, "but you'll soon find out that you're not the only man in the world that's got a gun!"

This last as Cameron flourished an automatic in his hand.

"You'll write the note, or you'll starve to death!" replied Fenton.

"Then we'll starve!" answered George.

"No, we won't starve!" declared Sandy. "We'll get the best of you outlaws in some shape, and give you a beating up that will put you in the hospital for six months!"

Fenton raised his fist as if to strike the speaker. but Cameron caught his arm.

"Not now," he said. "Wait until all other plans have been tried."

"We have other work to do at this time, anyway," Fenton said, with a scowl, "so we'll just lock the door on these young gutter-snipes and leave them to think the matter over!"

The men passed out of the small cavern, but before they left the outer one, they rolled a great stone into the opening they had just passed through and blocked it firmly on the outer side.

Chapter XVII

THE MORSE CODE

"And this," said Sandy, as the great stone began to render the atmosphere of the place close and unpleasant, "is what I call a fine little Boy Scout excursion! Did they leave one of the searchlights?"

"Not intentionally," replied George, "but I swiped one!"

"Well, we mustn't show a light until they get some distance away!" advised Sandy. "We don't want them to know that we have it."

"And we'll need it badly," George suggested, "if we're to give Bert any attention! I wonder if the poor boy has had any care since he's been here! It doesn't seem to me that they would be heartless enough to leave him here in an unconscious condition very long!"

"You can never tell what such fellows'll do," Sandy observed.

The boys remained silent for a long time, each one busy with his own thoughts. After what seemed an aeon, they saw that it was daylight outside. Then they turned on their electric and made an examination of their wounded chum.

They found that the bandage on his head had been changed, and that his pulse was not so high as when he had been discovered in an unconscious condition at the cabin.

"I guess they've done the best they could," Sandy observed, "and I'm much obliged to them for that! Have you got anything to eat?"

"Now, look here, Sandy," George replied whimsically, "have you any idea that I'd ever go away with you without taking something to eat? You got up from the table one minute and demand something to masticate the next! You're about the most regular boy at your meals I over knew. What'll you have now, pie or cake?"

"Pie!" laughed Sandy.

"Well, you get a bear sandwich!" replied George. "I've got four great big thick ones wrapped up in paper and stowed away in my pockets. If those ginks had suspected anything of the kind, they would have taken them away from me. They're a bum lot, those men!"

"Produce one of the sandwiches!" demanded Sandy. "They named me Sandy at first because I'm such a hand for sandwiches!"

George brought forth two great slices of bread and about a pound of fried bear meat. Sandy's eyes sparkled at the sight.

"We'll have one apiece now," George suggested, "and one apiece tonight. But every time they come near the cave, we'll tell them how hungry we are. That will make them think we're suffering."

"You don't think we're going to stay here till night, do you?" demanded Sandy munching away at his meat.

"I hope not," answered George.

"I wonder if Bert's had anything to eat since he got the wallop on the coco?" asked Sandy. "Suppose we mince some of this meat up very fine and feed it to him. He may not know when he swallows it, but it will give him strength just the same."

The suggested plan was followed, and Bert was given quite a quantity of the tender meat. At first it was necessary to pass it down his throat with draughts of water, but later, much to the surprise and joy of the boys, he began, to swallow naturally.

"He's coming back to life!" shouted Sandy. "A boy's all right as soon as he begins to eat! Sprinkle some water in his face and we'll see what effect that has."

The boys were so pleased that they almost cheered with delight when at length Bert opened his eyes and looked about.

"Time to get up?" he asked.

"Naw," replied Sandy. "Go to sleep again!"

"That you, Sandy?" asked Bert.

"That's Sandy all right!" replied the boy.

"Why don't you open a door or window and let in some air?" asked Bert.

"Aw, go to sleep!" advised Sandy.

"Nice old dive you've got here!" Bert went on. "Here I've walked about nineteen thousand miles to find a boy named Sandy and a boy named Will, and a boy named Tommy, and a boy named George, and when I find them they shut me up in a rotten old morgue."

"How'd you come to ask for Sandy?" demanded the boy.

"The name struck me as being funny!" was the reply. "Where are the others? Are you here alone?"

"George is over there on the floor," replied Sandy. "Ring off, now, and go to sleep! You're in no shape to talk."

"I remember something about getting a dip on the head," Bert said in a moment, evidently after long cogitation. "What was there about it?"

"You got it!" replied Sandy. "Go to sleep!"

"If you'll give me some more of that meat, I'll go to sleep!"

George pushed forward about half of one of the sandwiches and the boy began eating it greedily. In a moment, however, his arm dropped to his side and he appeared to be unconscious again.

"He's too weak to go at the grub like that," George advised, turning on the light. "We'll have to be careful!"

But Bert was not unconscious again. He was only sleeping.

"I'd like to know what brought him out of that trance," remarked George as the boys sat regarding the youngster with inquiring eyes.

"I don't know any more about it than you do," answered Sandy, "but, if you'll leave it to me, setting the stomach to work put the blood in circulation, and that swept the cobwebs out of his brain."

"Sounds all right, but I don't believe it!" replied George.

The day passed slowly. Bert slept continuously until George's watch told him that it was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon. Then he opened his eyes for a few moments, finished the rest of the sandwich and went to sleep again.

"Weak as a cat!" exclaimed Sandy.

The boy had scarcely closed his eyes when Cameron's voice was heard at the entrance.

"Are you boys ready to write that note?" he asked.

"Come in here a minute," requested Sandy. "I want to get a good poke at that ugly mug of yours!"

"You won't feel quite so lively after going hungry for a day or two," sneered Cameron. "You needn't mind about the letter, anyway," he added. "I have information that there's a boy coming in from Cordova who can read the code despatch and we're laying for him now."

"I don't want to seem to be irreligious," Sandy replied, "but I beg leave to state that if I owed the devil a debt of a thousand of the greatest liars on earth and he wouldn't take you and call the debt square, I'd cheat him out of it! Your fabrications are too cheap!"

"Don't get fresh now," advised Cameron. "If you do, I'll come in there and take it out of your hide!"

"Come on in!" urged Sandy. "I'd just like to get a good crack at your crust! I think I could fix you up in about five minutes so you'd want to lie in bed for about five months!"

"Aw, what's the good of stirring him up!" whispered George.

"I want to get him so mad that he'll say something that he wouldn't say if he wasn't angry!" replied Sandy. "What's your idea about this boy coming in, anyway? Do you believe it?"

"No!" was the reply. "There isn't any one to come in. And even if there was, there is no way in which he could be notified that he was coming! So you see, he's just lying for the fun of it!"

"Well, I'm sorry, boys," Cameron observed, "that you won't take advantage of the offer I'm making you. I brought a basket of provisions with me, and you might be having a square meal in five minutes if you'd only do what I ask you to do."

"I thought you didn't want the letter now!" scoffed Sandy.

"Oh, I'll get it all right whether you write it or not!" answered Cameron. "But if you have anything to say to me, you'd better say it now, because you won't see me again until tomorrow morning. I've just come from the cabin, and the boys there are about wild over your disappearance. I explained that I found your hats not far from a piece of torn and bloody turf, and that seemed to make them feel worse than ever."

"Oh, they're on to you all right!" replied Sandy. "You can't make anything stick with them. They know that you're the outlaw who stole Bert, and they know that you haven't any more right to the cabin than they have. You'll go sticking your nose around that domicile some time and get it knocked off! It's a two to one bet right now that they know that you've caught George and I in some kind of a trap."

"Let him alone," advised George. "What's the use of starting anything? He can make us trouble if he wants to!"

"Run along now," continued Sandy. "We were having a quiet little snooze when you butted in. It's all right this time, but don't you ever do it again. Here's hoping you remain away until morning!"

Cameron was heard to pass through the outer caverns and all was still, about the place. Notwithstanding the assumed lightheartedness of the boys, they realized that they were in a serious situation.

"I'm going to dig this stone out!" declared Sandy shortly after the departure of the miner. "I believe we can move this beautiful door if we go at it right. Come on and help me push."

The boys pushed with all their might, but the stone was firmly blocked on the outside, and could not be moved.

"It's after five o'clock," George said looking at his watch, "and if we do anything tonight, we'll have to do it right away. What time did Tommy say he would be back with the doctor?"

"There was some talk about his being back early in the evening," replied Sandy. "And that gives me an idea!" the boy continued.

"Pass it out!" said George.

"First," Sandy said, hesitatingly, "let me ask a question. Do you know how the boys are going to get in from the coast? What I mean is, have you any idea which way they will take on leaving Katalla?"

"That's all a guess," replied George.

"They may come this way, though," suggested Sandy.

"Yes, if they keep straight to the north until they strike the valley of this little creek and then turn east to the cabin, they'll be apt to pass this way."

"Here's hoping they do," Sandy said fervently.

"I don't see how that will help," George complained. "We're shut up in a hole, and might yell for a thousand years without being heard."

"Just you wait a minute," Sandy advised. "Let me see that searchlight of yours. Have you the red and blue caps with you?"

"They're right at the end," replied George. "Just unscrew that cover and take them out. I thought you knew where to find everything connected with an electric searchlight!"

Sandy unscrewed the false cover at the end of the battery case and brought forth two celluloid caps; one blue, and one red.

"It's been so long since we've used these Boy Scout signals," he add, "that I've almost forgotten which color we use for the dash and which for the dot when we signal in the Morse code."

"The red is the dash," explained. George. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to hoist a signal of distress," laughed Sandy.

"Expect it to show through the rocks?"

"I guess it'll show out of any opening we can look out of!" exclaimed Sandy. "I'm going to put on the red cap and set the light where it'll shine through the two outer caverns. If any of the boys come within sight of it, they'll understand the scrape we're in."

"Great head!" exclaimed George. "The boys will be coming back from Katalla before long, and Will and Ed will naturally be searching for us, so we're pretty sure to have the signal seen and answered before morning!"

"That's our only hope!" replied Sandy. "Unless our Boy Scout signal brings one party or the other, we're likely to starve to death in this rotten old cavern. Let's see how it works," the boy went on, screwing the red celluloid cap firmly over the eye of the electric.

After seeing that everything was in order, he switched to the blue cap. In both cases the light worked perfectly.

"There you are!" he said with a chuckle. "If one of the boys sees the red light, he'll read it for a Morse dash and if he sees the blue light, he'll read it for a Morse dot!"

Chapter XVIII

THE ROCKS TUMBLE DOWN

After the departure of George and Sandy from the cabin, Will and Ed decided that the best thing they could do would be to go to bed. They had been without sleep for many hours, and were thoroughly exhausted.

"I am anxious to know what success George and Sandy have in chasing Cameron," Will said, as he disrobed in the dark and tumbled into his bunk, "but I don't see how we can help matters any by sitting up."

No answer came from the bunk occupied by Ed save a prolonged snore, and Will knew that his companion was already in the land of dreams.

When Will awoke it was broad daylight and the sun was high in the heavens. Looking at his watch, he was surprised to see that it was after twelve o'clock. In a moment, he heard Ed stirring in his bunk, and then the boy sat up, rubbing a pair of sleepy eyes.

"That was a corker!" Will exclaimed.

"Have any of the boys returned?" asked Ed.

"Oh, they're back before this, of course," Will answered. "They've probably gone outside in order to give us a chance to sleep!"

"I don't see any indications of their presence," Ed said. "Everything looks exactly as it did when we went to bed last night."

Will, after arranging his head net, and drawing on a pair of gloves, opened the door and cast an anxious glance over the landscape.

"They haven't been out here!" he said. "What do you think it means?"

"It means that they're giving that fat miner along chase!" answered Ed.

"I'm afraid they're in some trouble," replied Will apprehensively.

"Suppose I look for them while you get breakfast," suggested Ed.

"Good idea," replied Will "I'll get pancakes and coffee and eggs for breakfast and then, after we eat, we'll both go out and look for the boys. I'm afraid they've been led into a trap!"

"How about leaving the cabin alone?" asked Ed.

"The cabin can go hang!" answered Will.

Ed returned in half an hour and reported that no trace of the lost lads had been discovered. The boys then ate breakfast and started away.

"Which way did they go?" asked Ed,

"Sandy said they were headed to the west."

"Then to the west we go," Ed exclaimed, darting forward in advance.

The boys searched patiently until five o'clock without discovering any trace of the missing lads. Then, they returned to the cabin and prepared supper. As they came within sight of the cabin they saw a stout figure dodging away into the grove of trees to the east.

"That's that sneak of a Cameron," Will said. "If he keeps shoving his ugly nose into our business, I'll ornament it with lead!"

After supper the boys loaded their pockets with sandwiches and a bottle of cold coffee and set forth again.

"I don't think we went far enough to the west," Will said, as they made their way over the moraine. "You remember the line of hills across the little creek? Well, I have an idea that if the boys have been captured they have been taken there."

"And if Bert has been hidden away anywhere in this vicinity," Ed answered, "he is there, too! In fact," the boy added, "it is my belief that if the miner is responsible for the disappearance of George and Sandy the three boys will be found together somewhere!"

"You are probably right!" Will agreed. "The miner and his gang wouldn't care about watching two separate points."

"I don't think they'd be apt to murder the boys, do you?" asked Ed.

"No, I don't think they would," Will replied. "Outlaws of the Cameron stamp resort to all sorts of tricks and crimes, but they usually fight shy of murder. I'm afraid, however, that the boys will be starved or beaten up."

It was seven o'clock when the boys finally came to the south bank of the rivulet, in the vicinity of the plaee where Sandy had encountered the bear. The sun was now well in the west and the south side of the line of cliffs lay in heavy shadows.

"If there's any deviltry going on," Will said, pointing to the summits above, "it's right over there under those peaks!"

"I guess there's plenty of room under the peaks for mischief to be plotted," Ed suggested, "I can see pigeon holes all along the cliff."

"Caves, do you mean?" asked Will.

"Sure," was the reply. "Those cliffs are of volcanic formation, and some of the strata are softer than others, and the water has cut into the heart of the range in many places."

"One would naturally suppose that such openings would be filled with ice in Alaska," Will suggested.

"They may be filled with ice in the winter," answered Ed, "but in the summer time they are hiding places for bears and crooked miners."

The boys advanced to the edge of the stream and Will swept his field glass along the distant slope.

Presently he handed the glass to Ed.

"Tell me what you see," he said.

"I see something that looks like the eye of a wild animal looking out over the valley!" answered the boy. "What can it be?"

"My first idea was that some one had built a fire in a cave," Will answered, "but the more I look at it, the more I suspect that the light comes from an electric."

"Then that must be the boys!" exclaimed Ed excitedly.

"But why don't they come on out?" asked Will, anxiously.

"Perhaps they have found Bert and don't want to leave him!" suggested Ed.

While the boys watched the red light, which seemed to glimmer from the very extremity of the cavern, it turned to blue!

"Now I've got it," cried Will almost dancing up and down in his excitement, "you know what that means, don't you?"

"I can't say that I do!" replied Ed.

"It seems to me that the Portland Boy Scouts are not very well posted," laughed Will. "One of the boys—which one, I don't know, of course—is talking to us in the Morse code!"

"Still I don't understand," said Ed.

"The red light means a dash," Will explained, "and the blue light means the dot. Now we'll see if we can catch what the boy is saying."

"But where does he get the red and blue lights?" asked Ed.

"From red and blue caps screwed over the electric searchlight," was the reply. "All of our electrics are provided with these signal caps."

"There, the light is red again!" cried Ed.

"I'll show how how it works," Will said, bringing out his own flashlight and unscrewing the false cover from the loading end.

Directly he had the blue and red caps out, and then the red one was fastened over the eye of the searchlight.

"There, you see!" Will exclaimed turning on the light. "We've got a beautiful red light and that means a Morse dash."

"I see," answered Ed. "And when you turn on the blue, that means a dot. I learned the Morse code, of course, when I was admitted to the Boy Scouts, but I never knew that it was used in that way."

"I wonder if he sees this?" asked Will as he swung the red light back and forth in the growing twilight.

"We'll have to wait and see," replied Ed. "Of course, he'll answer if he knows we're here!"

Swiftly the light changed from red to blue and from blue back to red again. This took place several times and then Will said:

"Now, count!"

"Red," said Ed. "Red again. Red again."

"That's 'O'," exclaimed Will. "I guess we've got him at last!"

"Now there's another red," Ed went on. "Now there's a blue. Then one more red. Ob, this seems to be easy!"

"That's 'K'!" cried Will. "O.K., don't you see? O. K. That means that he knows we're here!"

"Glory be!" shouted Ed. "The boys are all right or they wouldn't be signalling. I hope they've found Bert!"

Will signalled back "O.K.," and then the lads turned back up the rivulet, the idea being to cross over to the north side.

"I want to find out why the boys don't show themselves instead of signalling," Will explained. "There must be some good reason."

After a walk of half a mile upstream the boys found it possible to cross without wading, and then they turned down toward the mouth of the cavern where the lights had been seen.

As they did so, two figures detached themselves from a group of trees which stood not far to the east and followed stealthily along behind them.

If the lads could have heard the conversation carried on at that time between Cameron and Fenton, they would have proceeded on their way with less confidence.

"Just what we've been looking for!" chuckled Cameron.

"We surely have them trapped now!" replied Fenton.

"They'll naturally step into the outer cavern to see why their chums don't walk out, and when they do so, we'll hold them up with our guns until we can build up a barrier which will keep them in."

"One of the boys certainly must understand the code we are so anxious about," Fenton observed. "That's the kid we want. We've certainly got to find out what that message contains! If the people in the east are trying to steal our plans, we certainly ought to know it!"

The boys, however, heard nothing of this talk and passed on down the north side of the creek. As soon as they came opposite the cavern, in sight of the light once more, they stopped and began signalling.

As they did so, Cameron and Fenton came nearer and waited anxiously for the lads to enter the cavern.

"I'd like to know what all that signalling means!" said Cameron.

"Boy Scout signals," replied Fenton.

"You can't read them, can you?" asked the miner.

"Of course not," replied Fenton, "I'm no Boy Scout!"

The boys continued to signal back and forth until the situation was fairly well understood. Will and Ed knew that Bert had been found and that all three were barricaded in the cave.

They were disposed to make their way to the rescue of the boys without further delay, but George advised them to wait until it became darker, as Cameron might return at almost any moment. The news that Bert had regained consciousness was very welcome and, confident of their ability to thwart the plans of the miner, the boys looked forward to quiet hours in the cabin.

Of course the boys had no suspicion that their enemies were close at hand watching every movement. Cameron and Fenton became impatient, after a time, and began advancing slowly toward the boys, who were now not very far from the mouth of the outer cavern.

Something better than an hour passed, and then George signalled from the interior of the cavern that it might be well for the boys to come up and begin the work of removing the rocks which barred their egress.

"Sneak In," George signalled. "Don't show yourself more than you have to. Cameron may be about! It may be that he has seen our signals already!"

Sandy replied that he had not discovered any indications of the presence of the miner, and the two boys advanced to the shelf of rock which faced the opening. It was nine o'clock then.

"What's that strange noise?" asked Will as they moved along the shelf.

"You've got me!" replied Ed, "The ground's tipping!"

There came a deafening crash and the whole face of the cliff fell away! When Will and Ed regained their feet and looked through the dust which was rising over the scene, they saw that there was no longer any cavern in view. The rock on which they stood was sliding down the slope.

"Buried alive!" cried Will with a sob, "Buried alive!"

Chapter XIX

VICTIMS OF THE QUAKE

The broad rock upon which the boys stood slid down the declivity for some distance and brought up against a thicket of trees which stood not far from the bank of the creek. The boys were fairly thrown from their feet as the rock struck, but fortunately they were not injured in the least. It was quite dark now, and the dust rising from the disturbed earth made the scene still more dim.

The first thing the boys heard when they scrambled to their feet was a faint moan and then a call for help.

"Sandy! George!" called Will.

There was no answer from above, but a faltering voice was heard just at the edge of the thicket, where the rock had crushed into a hemlock of unusual size.

"Help," the voice said. "Help!"

Will threw his searchlight in the direction of the sound and soon saw a writhing figure in the underbrush which had been crushed down by the fall of the rock.

"Who are you?" asked Will.

"Fenton," was the answer.

"Where'd you come from?" asked the boy in amazement.

"For God's sake," exclaimed the writhing man, "don't stop to ask questions now. My leg is smashed under the rock upon which you are standing! It is enough to say that I came here with Cameron!"

"Where is Cameron?" asked Will.

Fenton pointed further down the slope.

"He fell over in that direction when a rock struck him," he said.

Will and George made a thorough examination of the slope where the cavern had been before wasting any time on their injured enemies.

They called loudly to George and Sandy but received no answer.

"I'm afraid," Ed said, "that the boys were crushed under the falling rocks! If they were, we ought to leave the men responsible for their death where they are! They are not deserving of human help!"

"And yet," Will replied, "I can't find it in my heart to leave them in such a plight. We ought at least to see if we can get them out of their present cramped quarters."

After much exertion the boys managed to manufacture something like a handspike from one of the broken saplings, and with this they began prying at the heavy rock. It gave, but slowly.

While they worked away, hoping every instant to be able to draw Fenton from under the stone and so lessen his sufferings, they saw the hand of the man they were so unselfishly assisting stealing toward his hip pocket.

"Watch him!" whispered Will. "He means to shoot us as soon as he is released! That shows what kind of a dirty dog he is!"

As the rock was lifted by slow degrees and propped so that its weight was not so heavy upon the unfortunate man the boys saw that his hand was creeping closer to his hip pocket.

When at last the weight was removed, Fenton's first act was to attempt to draw his weapon. Ed kicked it from his hand and then proceeded to tie the fellow's wrists together behind his back.

"You're a dirty sneak," the boy exclaimed, "or you wouldn't try to kill the people who have saved your life! From this time on, you get no assistance from us!"

"I didn't mean anything!" whined Fenton.

"Don't lie about it!" fritted Will. "Where's Cameron?"

"You'll find him lower down!" was the reply.

"I hope he's broken his neck!" Ed cut in.

But Cameron had not broken his neck. Instead, he had broken an arm, and one foot had been badly bruised by a falling stone. He was unconscious when the boys lifted him and laid him in an easier position.

The two men were at once searched for weapons and left for the time being to take care of themselves. There was no fear of their escaping, for one of Fenton's legs had sustained a compound fracture and Cameron's foot was badly injured.

"What next?" asked Will as the two boys stood facing the spot where they believed George, Sandy and Bert to be buried under many tons of rock. "It seems as if we ought to do something for the boys!"

"I'm afraid it's too late!" replied Ed, dejectedly.

"We never can dig under those rocks without help," commented Will, "therefore, I think we'd better be on the watch for Tommy and Frank and the surgeon. They surely ought to be somewhere near the cottage by this time, if not already in it."

"If they've had such blooming bad luck as we have," Ed observed, "they're probably in jail somewhere! I don't think I ever saw anything in a worse mess! The very Old Nick seems to be after us!"

"This," Will observed with a grave smile, "is what we call a quiet little Boy Scout excursion! We have visited the Pictured Socks, the Everglades, the Great Continental Divide, the Hudson Bay country and got trapped in an anthracite mine in Pennsylvania since we started out on our quests for adventure."

"You seem to have found adventure all right!" smiled Ed.

"You bet we have!" replied Will.

The boys made still another inspection of the spot where the cliff had fallen, and thought that they heard a faint call from the inside.

"They are there!" cried Will. "I'm sure they're there, and alive!"

"But they can't live there very long!" suggested Ed. "So we'd better be doing something to get them, out!"

"The first thing to do," Will stated, "is to signal to the other fellows. I'm sure Tommy and Frank must be in with the surgeon before this!"

"There'll be plenty of work for the surgeon, I imagine," Ed added.

"I'm afraid so," Will admitted.

"But how are you going to signal to the cabin?" asked Ed.

"Indian smoke signals!" was the reply.

Almost before the words were out of Will's mouth, Ed was gathering both dry and green branches from the thicket.

"If the boys are at the cabin, or even on their way there," Will continued, "they'll be sure to see the signal, for the night is not so very dark now, and the land where we are is considerably higher than the moraine upon which the cabin is built. We'll have to get a blazing fire of dry wood and then pile on green branches."

"That ought to make a smudge visible ten miles off!" said Ed.

"Not quite so far as that!" smiled Will, "but it's a sure thing the signals ought to be seen as far as the cabin."

"Perhaps this earthquake shook the cabin down," suggested Ed. "I heard a racket over to the south which seemed to indicate that the moraine was being crumpled up like a piece of leather in a blaze."

"It seems to me," Will agreed, "that the earthquake did change the map of Alaska in some particulars. Now, if you've got enough dry wood, we'll start the fire and in five minutes we'll be ready for the green boughs!"

Two roaring fires were soon going on the mountainside, and then both Cameron and Fenton pleaded to be assisted nearer to the circle of warmth. They were both shivering with the cold.

"We ought to give you a swift toss into the blaze!" exclaimed Will. "And we may do it, too," he went on, "if we find that our chums have been brought to their death by your abducting them!"

"We had nothing to do with their being in the cave!" lied Cameron.

"What were you doing in the edge of the thicket?" asked Ed.

"We were watching you and your friends," was the reply. "We thought that you were in quest of our mine!"

"Did you see those red and blue lights?" asked Will.

"Certainly we did," replied Cameron.

"Well, they told the story of what has taken place since the boys left the cabin to follow your footsteps last night, so you may as well save your breath. Lies won't help you any!"

However, the lads managed to bring the two men closer to the fire and then set about piling on more green boughs.

"Now," Will said, as he stood regarding the two columns of smoke with no little satisfaction, "if our friends are within five miles of us, they ought to understand that we are in need of a little friendly assistance."

Time and again the two boys went back to the place where the cavern had been and listened patiently for some further indication that their friends were still alive. Several times they heard the rumbling of a voice but they could not distinguish the words of it.

Finally Will went back to where Cameron lay on the ground by the fire and asked abruptly:

"Is your name Garman, Cameron or Brooks?"

The fellow gave a quick start of surprise but made no answer.

"Is this man Fenton the clerk who stole the machine drawings?" was the next question. "Where are the plans now?"

"I don't know anything about any plans!" declared Cameron.

"What do you fellows expect to do with the plans?" asked Will.

"We haven't got them!" was the surly reply.

"Don't lie about it!" Will advised. "We know that the plans were sent to Fenton's employer and that Fenton stole them."

"How do the plans concern you?" demanded Cameron.

"We don't want the plans because they are alleged to represent a valuable invention," Will replied. "We want them because they are needed in the criminal court of Chicago."

"I suppose you boys planned this costly and dangerous expedition for the purpose of seeing how the plans look!" sneered Fenton.

"That's about the size of it!" replied Will.

"Well, we don't know anything about the plans!" declared Cameron, "and we wouldn't give you any information on the subject if we did!"

"All right," Will replied. "We can tie you up out here and the mosquitos will do the rest!"

Before Will could ask the question which was on his lips, three quick pistol shots came from the south.

"There!" the boy said excitedly, "the signals have brought a response!"

"Friend or foe?" asked Ed.

"That's more than I know!" Will replied.

Chapter XX

DOWN IN THE CHASM

When Tommy, Frank, Sam and the doctor started toward the bottom of the chasm in order that they might reach the spot from which the smoke signal was ascending on the other side, they anticipated rough going, but the actuality was much worse than anything which had been expected.

The soil extended only six or eight feet. Passing this they came to a point where the solid glacier had been opened by the earthquake.

The break was uneven, there being little shelves and ledges upon which the feet might rest, but the going was uncertain for all that.

The roaring of the fast-lifting torrent prevented conversation, and the darkness made signalling impossible except when the searchlights were held in position.

It was very cold at the bottom of the break, too, and the boys felt their hands growing numb.

However, they proceeded with good speed until they came to a point where the current had swept the tree trunks far apart and parallel with each other. Here it became necessary for them to take the chance of a long jump. When it came Sam's turn to make the leap, the log upon which he struck rolled under his weight and he went down under the wreckage and rush of water.

Frank and Tommy sprang to his assistance at once, reaching down in the hope of getting hold of his hand, but the swift current carried the boy along until he was beyond their reach.

They saw his head come to the surface and saw him strike out for the floating logs on the north side of the chasm.

Then the bushy top of a tree drifted down upon him and he went under.

The boys stood for a moment as if paralyzed at what had taken place, and then Tommy sprang into the mass of floating boughs and, clinging to one which sustained his weight, called out to Frank to turn his searchlight on the place where he stood.

Frank did as requested, but it showed only a half-frozen and dripping boy clinging to the boughs of a tree which was already beginning to drop down beneath his weight.

The lads had about abandoned all hope of rescue when Sam's head once more appeared above the surface. He was within a short distance of Tommy and the boy, dropping his searchlight, sprang toward him.

He succeeded in getting hold of the boy's arm.

Then Frank, appreciating the situation, dropped in and, while retaining hold of a reasonably firm log on the west side of the chasm, caught the rescuer by the hand. Doctor Pelton, who had been creeping nearer to the point of danger, now seized Frank by the arm and slowly and with great effort the human chain drew the half-drowned boy to the little platform of logs and brush upon which the doctor stood.

Sam lay there for a moment panting and shivering, and then sprang to his feet. The north wall was still to climb.

The slope here was more gradual and all four soon found themselves at the top of the chasm, wet and cold, but on the side where the Boy Scout signal had shown.

"We ought to tell the boys we are coming, hadn't we?" asked Tommy.

He drew his automatic from his pocket as he spoke and pressed the trigger, but there was no explosion.

"Try mine!" advised Doctor Pelton. "I guess I'm the only person who didn't get wet."

As he spoke the doctor fired three quick shots.

"I wonder if they'll answer?" asked Tommy.

"They will if they can," replied Sam. "I don't know your chums, of course, but when a Boy Scout sends up a signal for help and shots are fired, it is only good manners to acknowledge the courtesy."

No answering shots came for a moment, however, for Will and Ed were at that moment some distance away from the place where their automatics had been thrown after having been taken from Cameron and Fenton.

The shots came before long, however, and the party of wet and shivering boys pressed on.

"I'd like to know what the boys are doing so far away from the cabin," Tommy grumbled. "They ought to have sense enough to stay put!"

The party was met just beyond the illumination of the fire by Will and Ed, who greeted their chums with such cordiality that a rather perilous situation was at once suspected.

"What are you boys doing out here in the scenery, anyhow?" demanded Tommy. "You ought to be at home in the cabin with a hot supper ready for us! You always go wrong when I go away!" he added with a grin.

"There's no time to tell long stories now," Will hastened to say. "The thing we've got to do is to pry open that mountain and dig George, Sandy and Bert out."

"Are they dead?" asked Tommy, turning very white.

"There's some one alive in there," replied Will. "We hear something which sounds like the human voice but we can't distinguish any words."

"Earthquake?" asked Tommy,

"Earthquake!" replied Will.

"But how——"

Will cut Frank off with a gesture and pointed to the cliff.

"We've got to get to work!" he said.

Just then a low groan reached the ears of the members of the group and Doctor Pelton sprang toward the place where Cameron and Fenton lay.

Tommy dashed after him and looked down on the two men.

"Where did you get 'em?" he asked.

"We didn't get 'em," was the reply. "The earthquake got 'em."

"Then I'll bet they were trying to do something to Bert!" Tommy declared.

"Right, little man!" replied Will. "But we haven't got time to talk about it now. This, I suppose," he added, turning to the surgeon, "is the doctor you brought from Cordova?"

"That's Doctor Pelton," Tommy answered, "and this," he continued, pointing to Sam, "is Sam White, Bulldog Patrol, Portland, Oregon. He isn't as hungry as he looks to be, for we fed him up good and proper on the way out!"

During this brief introduction, Sam and Ed had been eyeing each other with half concealed grins.

"You boys seem to know each other," Tommy said.

"That's my chum," Sam replied, pointing to Ed. "I saw fit to seek my fortunes in town while he made a break for the mines."

The boys greeted each other warmly and then all turned their attention to that portion of the cliff where the caverns had once stood.

"They're still alive," Frank exclaimed as he reached a little fissure in the rock and bent downward. "I can hear some one talking!"

"Did you say that George and Sandy and Bert were all in there?" asked Tommy, turning to Will. "How did they get in there?"

"They were all in there just before the earthquake," replied Will. "I can't stop now to tell you how it all happened. They were signalling to us when the shock came."

"Signalling, how?" asked Tommy.

"Morse code, red and blue lights!" replied Will. "It's all the work of the miner and his bum friend," Will continued. "The boys were barricaded in the cave when the earthquake stirred things up, and the same convulsion which wrecked the cave injured the two men who were responsible for the condition the boys were in. Now you know all about it that I'm going to tell you until we get the lads out and get back to the cabin!"

"They're not dead, anyway," Frank exclaimed "I can hear Sandy's voice!"

Chapter XXI

EXPLAINING CORDOVA INCIDENTS

"I've found the door to the hole in the ground!" shouted Tommy, a few moments later, as he sent a great rock rolling down the slope.

The boys rushed to the opening so made and were overjoyed at seeing a light in the cavity thus exposed.

"Your door isn't big enough!" laughed Frank. "A good-sized cat couldn't get through there!"

"What are you boys talking about?" came a voice from the inside.

"Another one of those foolish questions!" laughed Tommy. "We're not talking at all, little man!" he continued. "We're getting our shoes shined! What are you doing in there?"

"We're not in here at all!" replied Sandy. "We're up on the Masonic Temple, watching a Columbia Yacht Club regatta!"

"Aw, cut it out!" advised Will. "Are you boys all safe?"

"Sure we're all safe!" answered Sandy, "George has a grouch because he hasn't anything to eat here, but the rest of us are all right!"

"Where's Bert?" asked Frank.

"In here!" was the answer.

"We brought a surgeon for him," Frank went on.

"He doesn't need a surgeon now!" replied George. "What he needs more than anything else is a cook!"

"We'll give him two cooks!" shouted Tommy.

"Why don't you hurry up and get us out?" demanded Bert, in a weak voice.

"If you remain in there a few weeks," Tommy laughed, "perhaps you'll get so thin you can crawl out of this crack!"

"Well, get to digging!" replied George.

"And for the love of Mike," exclaimed Sandy, "when you get to digging, don't drop any rocks on top of us! We have a little hole here now about four feet square!"

After making a study of the situation and advising with Doctor Pelton as to the proper course to pursue, the boys began prying at a large rock which lay almost on top of the shelf upon which the boys had ridden to the thicket. The rock moved, but grudgingly.

"If you can move that rock," the doctor said, "I think the one just above it will slide down and leave an opening large enough for the boys to pass out of. It ought not to be much trouble to move it!"

Notwithstanding the doctor's predictions, the boys worked at the rock with their home-made handspikes for an hour before it broke loose and rattled down upon the shelf just above the fire.

"Come out of that now," cried Tommy stooping down and looking into the cavern. "Come on out, now!"

Sandy was not long in obeying instructions. George came next and then the two lads turned about and lifted Bert out of his cramped position.

"That pigeon hole we've been occupying is about four inches square!" Sandy declared. "And I'm just about dead for a good long breath of fresh air! I never knew before how good air tasted."

Bert glanced around the circle of faces and smiled amusedly as he saw that his chum was there with the rest.

"Where'd you go, Frank?" he asked.

Frank hastened to the lad's side and bent over him.

"I headed for the cabin," he answered, "and missed it. The Indian smoke signal brought the boys out and they fed me up."

Will now approached the spot where the two boys were talking and pointed to Cameron and Fenton now sitting with their faces illuminated by the blaze. They both scowled at the inspection.

"Which one of those men gave you the clout on the head?" Will asked.

"That fellow with the alfalfas," replied Bert.

"And he stole the code message you were carrying?"

"I don't know!" replied Bert. "I had it when he came into the cabin and began talking with me and I haven't thought of it since. Was it stolen?"

"You bet it was!" replied Frank. "But we've been to Cordova and got a duplicate of it!"

Cameron and Fenton scowled fiercely as they listened to the conversation.

"Have you got the code message with you now?" asked Will.

"Sure I have!" answered Frank.

"Suppose you read it, then."

Frank took an envelope from his pocket, tore off one end, and brought out an ordinary sheet of letter paper bearing the heading of the wireless company. The boys gathered about him eagerly.

"It isn't very much!" Frank said with a laugh. "Say, you two fellows," he added, waving the paper in the direction of Cameron and Fenton, "would, you like to hear this code despatch read?"

"You bet they would," cut in Sandy. "That's all they've been thinking about for the last two days!"

"Well, it's short and sweet and very satisfying!" Frank laughed.

"Aw, read it!" demanded Tommy. "What's the use of making a monkey of yourself? Let's see what it has to say for itself."

Frank bent a searchlight on the paper and read:

"Will Smith, in camp near Katalla, Alaska: The machine plans have been traced to the cabin to which you were directed. Make close examination there before looking elsewhere. Horton."

"What do you know about that, Cameron?" asked Will with a smile. "Are the plans really hidden in our cabin?"

"Your cabin!" sneered Cameron.

"I guess the cabin belongs to us as much as it does to you!" Tommy cut in. "Are the machine plans hidden there?"

"What do you want of the machine plans?" demanded Cameron.

"They don't belong to you!" roared Fenton.

"We have no claim upon them," replied Will. "In fact, we have no use for them at all, except that we want to identify the mark of a human thumb which soiled one of the papers."

"All lies!" shouted Cameron.

"I'm telling you the truth," declared Will.

"Then why didn't you come right to me and say so?" demanded Cameron.

"You didn't give us a chance!" replied Will.

"Are the plans hidden in the cabin?" asked Sandy.

"This is all a faked-up story you are telling me!" Fenton shouted. "Whoever wired you that the plans were in the cabin didn't know what he was talking about! We don't know anything about the plans."

"That doesn't agree with what Cameron just said," Frank laughed.

"Cameron doesn't know anything about the plans, either," raged Fenton.

"Are you the clerk who stole the plans from your employer?" asked Will.

"I tell you that I don't know anything about any plans!" stormed Fenton. "Cameron and I are prospecting this moraine for gold, and we have no interest in any plans whatever!"

"And yet Cameron gave Bert a crack on the coco and stole the code message!" suggested Will.

"He probably thought the message referred to our mining properties!" declared Fenton. "We had a right to suppose it had."

"Then you won't tell us where the plans are?" demanded Will.

"I tell you that I don't know anything about the plans," screamed Fenton. "I never saw the plans."

"All right," Will replied. "We'll leave you fellows out here to think the matter over. By morning you will probably know where the plans are hidden. The mosquitos may be able to convince you."

"A little meditation may refresh his memory," Frank said.

"What have you got to do about it, anyhow?" demanded Cameron. "I don't think you've got any right to butt in here!"

"Who is that freshie?" asked Fenton.

"Frank Disbrow," replied the doctor with a smile. "He's the son of the military officer in charge of the military stations in Alaska."

The boys all turned and regarded Frank curiously.

"So that's why the walls all fell down when you knocked!" exclaimed Tommy. "That's why the federal officer refused to make any arrests. That's why Jamison returned the money and gave us the use of his motor boat. I begin to understand some of the things that took place at Cordova now. Why didn't you tell us something about it before we had all that trouble?"

"Oh, I didn't want to mix father up in the combination," Frank replied with a smile. "Besides," he added, "it did look something like piracy."

"It certainly did," observed Doctor Pelton. "If Frank hadn't been a member of the pirate crew, I rather imagine that you boys would be cooling your heels in some Alaska prison about now. Of course, you would have been released in time, but the affair would have made you considerable trouble."

"Who's Bert, then?" demanded Tommy.

"Bert is the son of a prominent federal official at Chicago," replied Frank. "But we've had enough of this," the boy declared modestly. "I didn't do any more than any other boy would have done."

"You undertook that long trip out to the cabin when you didn't have to!" exclaimed Will. "That was good of you!"

Chapter XXII

THE PLANS AT LAST

With a parting glance at Cameron and Fenton, the boys, accompanied by the doctor, turned away in the direction of the cabin.

"Wait!" shouted Fenton. "Don't go off and leave us in this plight! We'll starve to death if you do!"

"What about those plans?" demanded Will.

"I'll help you find the plans!" screamed Cameron. "I'll see that you get the plans; if you get us out of this scrape!"

"Keep still!" commanded Fenton.

"I refuse to keep still!" declared Cameron. "I'm not going to be left here to be devoured by insects. Tell me the truth about the plans," he went on, "what do you want of them?"

"We want to introduce the plans in evidence in the criminal court at Chicago," replied Will.

"And that will betray our secret," commented Fenton fiercely. "Those plans are worth millions of dollars to us! They represent the only perfect mining machine ever invented."

"We don't care anything about your mining machine," Will answered.

"Have you noticed anything peculiar about the plans?" Frank asked.

"Nothing except that they are dirty!" was the reply.

"Marked up with thumb prints, for instance?"

"Yes, there are thumb prints," replied Cameron.

"Well, we want the thumb prints," Frank laughed.

"You're a fool if you listen to any such arguments!" screamed Fenton. "Why should these gutter snipes want the papers for the thumb prints?"

"That's what we want them for!" insisted Frank. "Are you going to tell us where the plans are?"

"I'll tell you!" replied Cameron.

Fenton turned his back on his friend and refused to discuss the question further. When the lads started away carrying Cameron on a rude litter, they left his follow conspirator lying by the fire.

"Please bring him along," pleaded Cameron. "He'll die if you leave him there! I can tell you where the plans are, and I'll do so, whether he likes it or not. This has been a misunderstanding all around. We were only trying to protect our interest in the mines which we believed to exist in this neighborhood, and in the plans, which we believed to be very valuable!"

Thus urged, the boys turned back and constructed a second stretcher for Fenton. The journey to the cabin was a long one, but the shelter was reached about daylight. Then Tommy at once began the preparation of breakfast.

"We'll have to get out pretty soon," Will laughed, "because the population of this county seems to be increasing with amazing rapidity. At the present time we have four Beavers, two Foxes, and two Bulldogs besides a very eminent surgeon. In other words," the boy went on, "we have this collection of wild animals in addition to a very eminent surgeon and two men with busted legs. If some one doesn't bring in provisions pretty soon, we'll have to exist on mosquito soup!"

"The mosquitos have been living off us long enough!" Tommy answered. "They ought not to find fault if we begin living off them!"

"I heard you boys talking about thumb prints on a set of plans," Doctor Pelton said, addressing Will. "I'd like to know what it all means."

"The story is soon told," Will answered. "On a night in Chicago not long ago, three men, Spaulding, Hurley and Babcock, worked until nearly daylight on the plans which we came to Alaska to find. They are experts in their line and were examining the plans of an invention which the inventor claimed would revolutionize mining.

"The three men rejected the plans as impractical, and Spaulding and Hurley left for home, leaving Babcock at the office. After the departure of the two men, the company's safe was broken open and robbed of a large sum of money. Naturally the men who had worked in the office during the night were questioned concerning the disappearance of the cash. Spaulding and Hurley replied, truthfully, that they had left Babcock in the office and that the safe was intact at the time of their departure.

"Babcock's reply to this statement was that he had not been at the office that night at all, and that he could furnish a perfect alibi which he proceeded to do. Spaulding and Hurley were arrested and thrown into prison, while Babcock, secure in his fraudulent alibi, was not even suspected until Mr. Horton, a noted criminal lawyer, was retained by the two respondents.

"In discussing the case, Spaulding and Hurley explained how Babcock had participated in the discussion of the plans, and added that if the plans could be found, his thumb marks would be noted on the paper. They said he handled the attached sheets carelessly, and that the marks of both thumbs showed very plainly."

"That will be a perfect defense!" said the doctor.

Cameron and Fenton who had been listening intently to the recital, now both spoke at once:

"Were the plans really rejected by the experts?" they asked.

"They certainly were!" replied Will.

"Then we've been through all this trouble for nothing!" exclaimed Fenton.

"If you two fellows hadn't been engaged in this dirty game," Will said severely, "you would have been mixed up in some other dirty deal, so you're probably no worse off than you would have been in any event."

"If you'll go to the peg driven into the wall near the north window," Cameron remarked, "pull out the peg and run your finger into the augur hole, you'll find the plans rolled into a very small package."

Will rushed to the peg indicated, and the plans were soon in his hands.

"This settles it!" exclaimed Will. "The case is finished!"

"Are the thumb marks there?" asked Frank.

"Plain as the nose on your face!" replied the boy.

"And to think that they have been right under our nose all the time!" exclaimed Tommy. "I shall certainly have to partake of a large meal before I can recover my reason!"

"And to think that, after we came all the way to Alaska, we received the correct tip regarding the hiding place from Chicago by wireless!"

"I know how the people at Chicago came to discover the whereabouts of the plans," shouted Fenton. "There's a sneak of a clerk in the office where I was employed who gave me away. He saw me looking over the plans and betrayed me."

"Perhaps he didn't want to see you make a fool of yourself!" Will suggested. "He probably knew the plans had been rejected."

"I'll settle with him!" declared Fenton.

"If you do," Will replied, "you'll serve a term in an Alaska prison for abduction!"

"Yes," Fenton went on, "he probably wired the truth to Chicago after the search for the plans began in the office! When he saw me looking over the plans, I was obliged to tell him what they represented. I also told him where we were going to hide the plans, and of course, he had to wire that, too!"

"That clerk must be rewarded!" smiled Tommy.

Such a supper as the boys ate that night!

Notwithstanding the dreary predictions of Tommy, there was plenty of provisions in the cabin, and the party feasted on the game which was brought in as an addition to the supply until they returned to civilization.

They were obliged to bridge the chasm in order to reach Katalla, where they found the Jamison motor boat waiting for them.

They also found the wheelsman, Boswell, waiting for them there, he having made the trip from Cordova in a tug. At the request of Jamison, who had been released after the departure of the boys, he had made the journey in order to take possession of the motor boat.

When, after many delightful trips about the Gulf of Alaska, the Boy Scouts all turned their faces homeward, the wheelsman was left in charge of the boat. They afterwards learned that Jamison never claimed the craft, and that Boswell retained undisputed possession of it.

Doctor Pelton saw that Cameron and Fenton were well cared for on their arrival at Katalla, and a handsome present was sent to the federal officer by Frank Disbrow.

Frank and Bert accompanied the Boy Scouts to Chicago and later on became very warm friends. The two members of the Fox patrol, Sam White and Ed Hannon, traveled with tho boys as far as Portland.

When the boys reached Chicago, Babcock was arrested and the unmistakable thumb prints secured the immediate release of Hurley and Spaulding.

"There's one thing we've forgotten," Tommy said as the boys landed in Chicago, one autumn morning.

"What's that?" asked Will.

"We neglected to bring back that bear hide!"

"I should think you'd want that bear hide!" laughed Frank.

"I should think you'd be ashamed to look the bear in the face!" declared Sandy.

The boys received the promised reward for the discovery of the plans and once more settled down in Chicago to take up their studies.

THE END.

BLACK ART IN CINCINNATI

Mr. Quinsey of Cincinnati was not an Apollo; neither had he ever assumed a name other than his own. He had never conducted a scheme to defraud by use of the mails; nor had he ever robbed a post-office or shot any body; yet his character is so interesting that I cannot, in justice to myself, omit a passing notice.

Quinsey was known as a mesmerist, a ventriloquist, an illusionist, a prestidigitator and a master of the Black Art, and occasionally in "pleasing sorcery that charms the sense" he would entertain audiences at church fairs, picnics and the like for simple fees, while he found much pleasure amusing friends gratuitously at their homes, at his home and sometimes at his place of business.

One evening, at a little entertainment given by himself in neighboring Glendale, after he had knocked the spots off of several decks of cards; after he had taken half a dozen watches that belonged to people in the audience from the janitor's pocket; after he had received communications from departed spirits; after he had removed the head from a beautiful woman and had made the removed head talk; after he had paralyzed four men and a woman on the stage and had allowed the committee to stick pins in them, and after the curtain had dropped, one of the awestricken auditors, who had been instrumental in introducing Mr. Quinsey in Glendale, asked the wonderful magician why he did not follow this business in preference to any other?

The professor smiled blandly and appeared silent, but a voice that seemed to come from the bakery underneath the hall, was heard to remark in a deep melodious tone: "He has something better."

Quinsey was superintendent of what was known as the night set in the registry division of the Cincinnati post-office, and his hours of labor were from 10:30 P. M. to 7 A. M. In this set were employed six or seven clerks who worked under the superintendant's direction, and who performed practically the same kind of work that he did. It was their duty to properly record all registered matter that arrived in Cincinnati between 4 P. M. and midnight from the various railroad lines centering there, rebill it and pouch it in the through registry pouches to be dispatched in the morning.

There were something like thirty bills to make out, and the same number of pouches to properly close and send out. When the mails were running heavy the clerks never had a minute to spare, but when they were light, as they frequently were one or two nights each week, there was some opportunity for sociability and innocent amusement.

On these occasions Quinsey would sometimes tell the boys how easy it was for people to be mistaken; how much quicker was the hand than the eye; how it was that frequently things were not what they appeared; how easy it was to deceive the keenest intellect by doing something different than your actions would indicate, and how figures and objects are materialized and made to do their master's bidding.

Sometimes he would illuminate his ideas by a few practical illustrations, and after the young men had seen him shake any number of big silver dollars, a wheelbarrow full of handkerchiefs, and a lot of lanterns from a common gesture, and, in transfixed amazement, had beheld ordinary registered letters vanish before their eyes, without being able to tell where they went, they longed for the nights to come when the work was light. Quinsey was immense!

About this time, while in Chicago, Kidder came to me for conference with an armful of documentary evidence of skillful depredations. Here were the envelopes in which registered letters had from time to time been mailed at offices in Southern Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky, and West Virginia, addressed to offices in all portions of the great Northwest, and which had been rifled of large portions of their contents. Everyone of the letters had passed through the Chicago post-office, where they had been handled during the night time. At first glance one would say it surely indicated trouble in Chicago.

But why, if the thief was in Chicago, did he confine himself to operations on the letters from this particular section, when he could probably have access to those from any other as well. A few minutes later when we discovered that everyone of the letters referred to had also passed through the Cincinnati office, and in every instance had been dispatched from that office in the morning in through pouches to Chicago, Kidder adjusted his eye-glasses, and offered as a reward, for the capture of the villain, a claim near that beautiful miniature salt-water sea, known as Devil's Lake in Dakota.

On the following morning when I tapped Herrick on the shoulder in Cincinnati, and asked who wrote the Chicago registry bills at night that were dispatched in the morning, he answered, "Quinsey," and seemed so amused at my question that he asked why I wanted to know.

"For the reason that I think whoever is doing it is too inquisitive."

"Well, if its Quinsey, I am afraid we'll have our hands full to catch him, for he's just a little bit the slickest man in America. He does all the seemingly impossible things ever heard of, and he does them right before your eyes, too. Quinsey is absolutely marvelous. Why, one night I was in the registry room looking around when, suddenly, I discovered my watch was gone. I had looked to see what time it was when I entered. Well, a little later somebody found it in the Boston pouch, with a tag on it marked: 'Covington.'"

"Yes," said Salmon, who was listening, "and I understand he charms birds, too; while somebody told me a few days ago that at cards he was so expert that nobody would sit in with him; that when it came his deal he could hold anything he wanted; that the high cards, figuratively speaking, would come to him in carriages; and remain till after the show-down."

The next day I went to Lexington, Ky., and while there I wrote a letter to Mr. Abram Hayden, of Aberdeen, Dakota, on one of the letter-head sheets of Mills, Jackson & Johnson, which read as follows:

"Dear friend Abe:

Jim Turner was in from East Hickman half an hour ago and left the enclosed $200 for me to send to you, and he said you would know how to use it. He has just sold a car-load of mules to Springer, of Cincinnati, but he said he believed there was more profit in loaning money at 20 per cent. in Dakota, than there was in raising mules in Kentucky at present prices.

Say, Abe, when are you coming back after Mary? I heard Min. Stevens and some of the girls in her set say it was considered a sure thing. Hope it is; for of all the real fine blue-grass girls around these parts I think Mary is the——well never mind, old boy, if I wasn't married I'd try and prevent her going to Dakota. You better hurry up.

Jim just stuck his head in the door and told me to tell you if you couldn't get a gilt edge loan at 20, not to let it go less than 18. Jim is a cuss.

I suppose your brother wrote you what happened up at Gil. Harper's recently.

If the cyclones haven't got you by the time this reaches Aberdeen, write.

Very truly, your friend,
Frank N. Mills."

This letter I registered at Lexington and at night, about 11 o'clock, when I had followed it into the Cincinnati post-office, Herrick and Salmon were in the money-order division on a step-ladder, peering through a glass transom into the registry division. As soon as possible I joined them, and patiently we waited for Quinsey to turn a trick.

It was exactly two A. M. when he commenced on the Chicago bill. He reached the letter from Lexington at precisely 2:45. It was fat and tempting. Herrick was on the top of the ladder at that instant, and he sent a peculiar thrill of surprise through me when he turned and whispered:

"Hush, hush, he has picked it up.

"Now he's feeling of it.

"He's looking at the back of the of the R. P. E. (the outside envelope) to see how well it's sealed.

"He's laid it down and placed a book over it; somebody is moving around.

"It's quiet now and he's looking at the back again.

"Hush, don't move, he's carefully feeling again.

"It's under the blotter now; somebody at the other table got up to get a drink. There's no one at his table but himself.

"Hush now, he's making a close examination to see how well its sealed.

"Hush now, for God's sake don't move; he's trying to open it with his knife.

"Hush, hush, hush, he'll have it opened in an instant.

"Its open now, and he's looking at the letter envelope very closely.

"There, d——n it, some fellow has moved again and he's shoved it under the blotter.

"Hush, hush, don't stir; he's feeling of the letter again.

"Hush, don't breathe, he's trying to raise the flap of the envelope; it comes up hard; don't move."

"There, there, there, he's got it up.

"Hush, he's got the money out and is reading the letter."

"He's smiling as he reads.

"We must open the door and rush, in now."

"Come, be quick and be quiet; you know he's chain lightning."

"The door's unlocked; now, all together, go!"

An instant later there was a flutter, and all was over. The great conjurer had at last performed an illusion that was not optical—an act not mentioned on the bill.

Applause. Curtain. Prison.

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BOY SCOUT SERIES
By
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1.—Boy Scouts in Mexico; or, On Guard with Uncle Sam.

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5.—Boy Scouts in a Motor Boat; or, Adventures on the Columbia River.

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8.—Boy Scouts on Motorcycles; or, With the Flying Squadron.

9.—Boy Scouts Beyond the Artic Circle; or, The Lost Expedition.

10.—Boy Scout Camera Club; or, Confessions of a Photograph.

11.—Boy Scout Electricians; or, The Hidden Dynamo.

12.—Boy Scouts in California; or, The Flag on the Cliff.

13.—Boy Scouts on Hudson Bay; or, The Disappearing Fleet.

14.—Boy Scouts in Death Valley; or, The City in the Sky.

15.—Boy Scouts on the Open Plains; or, The Round-up not Ordered.

16.—Boy Scouts in Southern Waters; or, the Spanish Treasure Chest.

17.—Boy Scouts in Belgium; or, Under Fire in Flanders.

18.—Boy Scouts in the North Sea; or, the Mystery of U-13.

19.-Boy Scout Verdun Attack.

20.—Boy Scouts with the Cossacks; or, Poland Recaptured.

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By Andrew Carey Lincoln

1.—Motorcycle Chums in the Land of the Sky; or, Thrilling Adventures on the Carolina Border.

2.—Motorcycle Chums in New England; or, The Mount Holyoke Adventure.

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4.—Motorcycle Chums in Yellowstone Park; or, Lending a Helping Hand.

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