“Why, Dad?” Jack leaned forward eagerly.
“Well, wait until I tell you a bit about it,” said his father. “Then you’ll see.”
Then, while the three young fellows paid close attention, Mr. Hampton proceeded to relate the story of the “Lost Expedition” so-called, the expedition headed by Thorwald Thorwaldsson, the Norwegian explorer, which had outfitted at Seattle the previous Spring, set out for an unnamed destination in the Far North, and had never been heard of since.
A great deal of secrecy as to its objects had attended the departure of this expedition in its sturdy schooner, and many were the wild guesses and surmises concerning it advanced in the papers and among the hangers-on along the Seattle waterfront. Some said confidently that the expedition was going to attempt to reach the North Pole by airplane, for an airplane was carried dismantled on the schooner. Others declared the object sought was gold. And, in this regard, the vague rumors of vast gold fields found in the past by this or that old-time prospector who died without making his secret public, were brought to light and furbished up with a wealth of apocryphal detail in order to bear out the contention.
“But none of these assumptions,” said Mr. Hampton, “was correct. The real object of the expedition never was made public, for the very good reason that none of those in the know—and their numbers are few—ever betrayed a word, or hint, of the secret.”
“And you know it?” asked Jack, with quickened interest.
Mr. Hampton nodded, and smiled teasingly.
“Come on, Mr. Hampton, tell us,” said Frank.
“You better, Mr. Hampton, or he’ll burst with curiosity,” advised big Bob. “Show that boy a secret and he’s not content until he takes it apart.”
“How about yourself?” said Frank, indignantly. “I suppose you don’t care to hear, hey? Oh, no.”