"Is that your sled?"
"Yah. Vait, I vos sthop dem!" yelled Gus Schmidt, and with a dexterity that was really marvelous he turned his own team about and in a few seconds was traveling after the runaways.
"Wait! I'm going to get off! To look for my brother!" cried Dick, and as the German slackened his speed for a few seconds, the oldest Rover boy sprang out in the snow. He went sprawling, but was not injured. Almost before he knew it, the two sleds had disappeared and he was left alone.
All around him were the vast and mysterious fields of ice and snow. Far off he could hear the barking of the dogs, but this soon died out, and then came utter silence—a silence that seemed to fairly weigh him down. And now the snow started to come down harder than ever.
Had Dick Rover been less stout-hearted than he was he would have then and there given up the hunt for his brother. But Dick had the stuff of a real hero in him, and he went forward through the snow, bending low to escape the wind and to keep his eyes on that slowly disappearing trail.
Thus half an hour went by, and by that time, weighed down as he was by his heavy clothing and heavy footwear, Dick was well-nigh exhausted. He stopped to rest and to get his breath, and then, struck with a sudden idea, let out that old familiar locomotive whistle of Putnam Hall fame.
He waited for a few seconds and then whistled once more. Was he mistaken, or did an answering whistle sound out? He could not tell. He set his face grimly and trudged on.
At last he could see the trail no longer and then he realized the truth of the terrible situation.
He was lost on this vast field of ice and snow!
And Tom, somewhere ahead, must be lost, too!