“But there’s plenty of breeds,” Jack declared.
“Well, I guess it’s no use standing here talking about it any longer,” Bob declared. “Whoever got it has made a good get-away, and if we’re going to make the Carry tonight we’ve got to be moving.”
They had made a few more miles when, suddenly, Bob, who was in the lead, stopped and held up his hand.
“Listen,” he said.
Faintly the sound came to their ears.
“Wolves?” Rex asked.
“No, dogs,” Jack replied. “I guess somebody’s coming this way with a dog team.”
As they started on again it was soon evident that the dogs were approaching rapidly as the sound of the yelping grew louder. Soon, peering through the trees, Bob caught sight of them. Four huskies were drawing a sled and they were accompanied by four breeds, big burly fellows with villainous appearing faces.
As the two parties met, one of the breeds ordered the dogs to halt. The sled was heavily loaded as they could see by its tracks in the snow, but with what they could only guess as it was completely covered with canvass.
“How.” One of the breeds, a man who stood easily six feet two, greeted them.