“But don’t you see that that is just what we can’t explain to Uncle Dacre and Mr. Chillingworth?” demanded Tom. “How are we to get them to see that it couldn’t be helped?”
Jack looked rather helpless.
“But we’ll get it back,—at least we’ll get the skin,—if we ever catch up with this chap,” he insisted.
“Yes, and that ‘if’ looks as big as the Washington Monument to me right now,” responded Tom, “but come on. Hit up the trail again. I wonder how much ahead of us he is, anyhow?”
“Funny we haven’t struck any of his camps yet. He must have stopped to eat.”
“The very fact that he hasn’t shows what a hurry he is in, but if he keeps on at this rate his dogs will give out.”
“And that will give us our chance?”
“Exactly. He must guess that we are on his track and is going to drive ahead like fury.”
“But he can get fresh dogs.”
“Not without entering a settlement, and I guess he wouldn’t take a chance on doing that just yet.”