Dick beckoned to them.
“It’s all right, doctor. Don’t hesitate, Sandy. Come on over. He’s perfectly harmless. Permit me to introduce him to you. Gentlemen,” he grinned, “Mr. Martin Lamont—our guide!”
CHAPTER XIII
THE LONE CABIN
The days that followed proved arduous for the guide. No longer, in lordly, domineering manner, was he permitted to ride on one of the sledges and point out the way. His hours of leisure were at an end. He took his turn in breaking trail, drove dogs, chopped wood, assisted in putting up and taking down the tents, and in many other ways became a useful and valuable member of the expedition.
His presence, distasteful as it was, had brought a quick change in the spirits of the party. Hope rose again in Dick’s heart, and his enthusiasm and energy were unbounded. He had ceased to worry about getting lost or even wandering from the trail. Threatened with the most dire punishment, Lamont was forced to set their course.
Shortly after the return of the guide, they came upon the first log cabin they had seen since leaving Mackenzie River. It stood in a thick clump of trees, and had been recently built judging from the freshly-scored logs and its general appearance of newness. A flutter of interest, not unmixed with awe and wonderment and curiosity, stirred the party. Necks craned suddenly, drivers deserted their teams to go forward to talk to other drivers, even the huskies raised their tawny heads, as if to sniff out this new mystery.
In the lead at the time, breaking trail, Sandy gave the cabin the benefit of one swift look of appraisement, then started forward on the run. He proceeded very rapidly for fifty or sixty yards, then stopped short so abruptly that the point of one snowshoe became entangled in the other and he fell headlong.
Dick and Dr. Brady both started to laugh, but the sound died on their lips. They watched Sandy rise and start back, waving his arms frantically. The driver of the first team pulled up short. The second team, close behind the first, also pulled up short, but not soon enough to prevent an entanglement, which led to a furious fight among the malemutes.
Dick and Dr. Brady ran to the driver’s assistance, reaching the scene of trouble just a moment before Sandy arrived breathless. White-lipped, the young Scotchman waited until the commotion had subsided.
“Dr. Brady,” he began, “I guess you——”