“No danger of them running away?” Bob asked, as they returned to the cabin.
“Not a leetle bit,” Jacques laughed as he warmed his hands at the stove into which Jack had piled several pieces of wood and which was now roaring again.
Although they had no light except their flashlights and that which came from the open door of the stove, the moon shone in at the window so that they were easily able to see each other.
Sitting on the floor in front of the stove, the boys gave their friend a full account of their trip.
“Oui, I meet heem,” Jacques interrupted, when Bob had related their encounter with Nip. “He most to the border when we meet. He look a bad one.”
“He sure is,” Jack laughed, “and here’s hoping that we’ve seen the last of him.”
“Oui, we make eet all right,” Jacques declared, when the boys told him of their intention of making the Carry the next day.
Bob’s alarm clock went off at the appointed time the next morning, but he found that Jacques was up ahead of him and had the fire going. The Frenchman had a small supply of flapjack flour, and it made a very welcome addition to their trout menu.
By four o’clock the dogs had been fed and harnessed and they were ready for the start. Jacques cracked his long whip and the dogs sprang forward, setting a pace that made the boys exert themselves to their utmost to follow. The Frenchman swung along directly behind the sled with no apparent effort. The boys knew that both man and dogs could keep up the rapid pace all day, but at the end of the first hour they were, as Jack declared in a low tone to Bob, “about all in.”
“Hey there, Jacques,” Bob shouted. “What do you think we are? I didn’t mean that we expected to get to Carry before dinner time.”