“I will show you the way,” he informed Toma.
Disappointed, the boys made their preparations for the start. Soon they were on the trail, their teams doubled up—twelve dogs in one string, pulling two sleighs; ten in another, while the only single team were the six malemutes who pulled the mail sledge. However, they were scarcely out of sight of the encampment, when, looking back, Sandy saw two figures on snowshoes, following them at a rapid rate.
“Stop!” he shouted to his companions ahead, immediately checking his own team.
They waited until the two figures came up to them, two Indians from the encampment: the leader and, to the boys’ surprise, the young Indian, who wore the service boots and revolver of the mounted police.
“What do you want?” demanded Toma.
“This young man,” replied the leader, pointing to his companion, “wishes to go with you too.”
For a moment, Dick was in a quandary. He required the fellow’s assistance, yet he was afraid to include him in their party. The Indian might be a murderer or a thief. His appearance was against him. He might prove to be a worse customer than Lamont. The leader noticed Dick’s hesitation.
“He is a very good man on the trail,” he hastened to assure them. “You will not be sorry if you take him.”
“All right,” decided Dick, “he can come along.”
After all, he reasoned, it would be just as well if he did. Perhaps they might be able to discover the mystery of those boots.