But, as a matter of fact, both of them did worry. They ate supper in a gloomy mood, straining their ears for the sound of a familiar step. The hours passed, and still Sandy did not appear. When midnight came, Dick, nearly frantic, raised his head from his pillow, deciding to sit up.
“He no come yet,” said Toma in a hushed voice.
Somewhere, fairly close at hand, they heard the howling of a wolf.
It was the only sound which, for many long hours, had broken the deep silence of the forest.
CHAPTER X
SANDY PLAYS A LONE HAND
“Wake up! Wake up!”
A light was shining in Dick’s face and he was being shaken roughly by the shoulders. Something had fallen near the bed—a dull clatter of some sort. Then a voice raised slightly, then more voices, and, presently, as Dick half-sat, half-reclined on his spruce couch, endeavoring to rub the sleep from his eyes and collect his befuddled senses, he perceived what seemed to be at first a miracle.
The tepee was full of people. It seemed incredible, but true it was. The narrow confines of the room, in which he had spent the previous thirty-six hours, most of them alone, now fairly bustled with life. To his great amazement, he saw Sandy, Toma, Corporal Richardson, Factor MacClaren and two half-breeds, employed as servants at Fort Good Faith. They were all standing or sitting about, everyone, apparently, talking at once.
Dick made another quick dab at his eyes to make sure that his vision had not suddenly played him false. Was he suffering from some sort of a delusion? Was he seeing and hearing things? What did it all mean?
“That boy could sleep through an earthquake,” Sandy’s uncle declared, detaching himself from the little group and walking over beside Dick. “My boy,” he inquired, placing a solicitous hand on Dick’s head, “how are you feeling? Sandy tells me that you have been quite seriously hurt.”