They reached the camp just in time for supper, and as soon as the meal was over Bob got his guitar and for nearly two hours the room rang with the music of the old hymns.
The cold weather continued and the next day the horses which had been sick were again put to work, and at quitting time that night the teams had caught up with the work and the last log felled was loaded on to a sled just as the supper horn sounded.
“Now I fale better,” Tom declared as he led the way to the mess house.
It was shortly after ten o’clock that night when the chorus of snores in the bunk house struck the key, as Bob afterward told Jack, which assured him that all the men were asleep. Jack occupied the bunk directly over them and as he had been conscious of no movement “on the upper deck” for the past thirty minutes, he guessed that his brother had fallen asleep. Reaching up, he gave the slats a push, and immediately a low whisper assured him that he had misjudged him.
Very quietly the two boys slid to the floor and started pulling on their clothing, and a few minutes later they were sitting on the steps of the office fastening on their skates.
“Gee, but it sure is cold,” Jack declared, as he pulled his heavy mittens on to his nearly numbed hands. “Thirty-five below,” he announced a moment later, as he glanced at the thermometer by the light of his pocket flash.
It was very dark, as there was no moon and a slight haze rendered the stars all but invisible, although now and then bright streaks lighted up the sky as the weird Northern lights sent their mysterious streamers up and down the heavens.
“There, I guess we’re about ready to start,” Bob declared, as he thrust a pair of soft doeskin moccasins in his pocket.
But just at that moment Jack laid his hand on his brother’s arm with a low hist of warning. His sharp ears had caught the sound of crackling snow crust off to the right. Hastily he unlaced his shoes and, slipping them off with the skates still attached, he substituted a pair of moccasins similar to the ones his brother had put in his pocket.
“Wait a minute, Bob, I’ll be right back. I just heard a noise off there in the direction of the bunk house and I’m going to see what it was,” and he glided away in the darkness with noiseless steps, while Bob, with his skates still on, hobbled into the office, where it was comparatively warm.