CHAPTER XXVII—CONCLUSION.
Far to the southward, late in the Summer, the party containing our friends and the Thorwaldsson party as well as Long Jim Golden, all bronzed and hardy, and with Thorwaldsson recovered in body and mind, swung around a bend in a river and came to the landing which marked the first outpost of civilization—the trading post where was also located the Fort of the Mounted.
A little boy playing on the edge of the pier was first to see them, and whooping and shouting he ran up the bank towards the store. Out of the door of the trading post came a figure in uniform.
“Dick.”
“Art.”
The two pals were reunited.
And then followed the biggest surprise of all, for out of the store came Mr. Temple and Della. For ten minutes the kissing and hugging went on, while Farnum, Thorwaldsson, Farrell and the rest stood to one side, their faces set in wide grins.
“What in the world?” demanded Mr. Hampton, at length, holding his partner and neighbor at arm’s length. “What in the world brought you here?”
“A motor boat,” said Mr. Temple. “That was a surprise for you. When we received your radio message via the post here, which relayed it to Edmonton—that first one, you know, announcing you were leaving for the outside—I decided I would have to be on hand to greet you. So I got into communication with Captain Jameson, and learned from him that I could reach one of his posts farther south by motor car, and then come up the river in a launch. So I decided I would come here to the edge of the wilderness.”
He looked at his son, Bob, about whom he still kept an arm, and smiled.