"In bad shape, I'm afraid," answered Dick, soberly. "I guess the dogs ran away and pitched him overboard."
"I dink you vos right, und da drow dem dings oferpoard, doo," and Schmidt, pointed to the traps. "Veil, it's goot ve got der draps und er sled pack."
"Can we get back to the others tonight?"
"Nein, it was too dark und cold. Ve go in der morning, to Riss Rifer. Maybe dare you got a doctor, yah."
So it was settled, and the German proceeded to make himself and the others as comfortable as possible. He prepared something to eat, and suggested that Tom be given a little broth, made out of some dried meat. This was done, and presently the sufferer opened his eyes and tried to sit up.
"Whe—where in th—the world am I?" he asked, in a faint voice.
"Tom, you're all right," answered his brother, soothingly. "Do you know me?"
"Why, of course I know you," came the wondering answer. "What happened to me, Dick?"
"You ran off with a dog sled and got a nasty tumble."
"A dog sled? Dick, you are stringing me? Who's got a dog sled around Brill?"