“Maybe a bear or wolf ahead,” suggested Jim, cocking his rifle.
Anxiously the boys peered into the misty white ahead and saw a low, irregular mound of snow with a dark object projecting from it.
“Say, what’s that ahead?” queried Jim in low tones.
“Looks like a sled covered with snow,” replied Tom. “We’ll soon see.”
Approaching cautiously, while the dogs struggled to keep back, the boys neared the little white mound, and the next instant Jim uttered a piercing, frightened cry and leaped back. Sticking stiffly up from the snow was a human arm!
“Gee, it’s a man!” exclaimed Tom. “What are you afraid of? Maybe he’s got lost or injured and is not dead yet. Come on, let’s see.”
With fast beating hearts the boys, overcoming their fears and nervousness, stepped close to the ominous pile of snow. Tom grasped the outstretched fur-clad arm.
But the next instant he let go, yelled, and jumped away with a white face. The arm was frozen stiff. It was the arm of a corpse!
“He—he’s dead!” stammered Tom.
Jim had now recovered himself. “Well, he won’t hurt us if he is,” he reminded Tom. “It’s awful I know, but we must find out who he is. It may be one of our men.”