"Well, of course, I don't want to do anything like that, but I sure do hate to be wasting time here. By the time we get up there we'll probably find they've left for the North Pole."
"Then it'll be the North Pole for us," Bob chuckled.
During the day Jack growled off and on at the enforced delay although he knew that the Indian was quite right. But the ankle was improving rapidly, thanks to Bob's treatment, and he was resolved that it should not keep them from starting out the next morning.
The next morning came at last and, although the Indian shook his head and Bob advised waiting over another day, Jack insisted that the ankle would stand it and, against their better judgment, they finally gave in.
"You no keep on that ankle heem hurt," Lucky ordered as, shortly after eight o'clock, they were all ready to go. "That ankle heem no strong an' you hurt heem some more mebby you no use heem again for ver' long time."
The weather had continued warmer than was usual and the snow, which had been heavy when it fell, had settled rapidly and was so well packed in most places that the dogs sank in but a little and the sled hardly at all.
"Eet ver' bon snow-shoen'," Lucky said after they were fairly on the way.
"You bet," Bob replied. Then, turning to Jack, he asked: "Does that ankle hurt any?"
"Nothing to speak of," Jack assured him. "Of course, I know I've got one."
"You tak' heem easy. I tink snow packed 'nough so you can ride some on sled when you geet tired," Lucky told him.