The light was strong enough now so that they could see that the wolves were gone, but this happy discovery was not so encouraging with the disappearance of Sandy.
Horrified at first, at the thought that Sandy must have been eaten by the wolves, Dick and Toma began a minute search of the vicinity. They found tracks, but no sign of Sandy. If the departed wolves had slain Dick’s chum there would have been traces left, at least bits of clothing.
CHAPTER XXI
THE MAN FROM CROOKED STICK RIVER
If, as Dick suspected possible, Pierre Govereau had overtaken them again and somehow made off with Sandy, what then could they do? Corporal Richardson must go on to the post at all hazards. The infection in the officer’s wound would kill him unless medical aid were procured soon. Yet Dick could not leave without knowing what had happened to Sandy, and making a sincere effort to find his chum. And in that strange country he could not find his way without the aid of Toma.
“I’ve a good idea what might have happened to Sandy,” Dick mused aloud a little later.
“What you say?” Toma eagerly asked.
“He’s walked in his sleep two or three times in his life that I know about, and last night he must have done it again. Now I’m sure he left the fire after the wolves were gone. If he did then he might have fallen into Govereau’s hands.” Dick strode back and forth in the snow, almost beside himself.
“Oh! if some friend would only come along on the way to Fort Dunwoody,” Dick exclaimed aloud.
“We take um sick fella to cabin,” Toma suggested. “We leave um there when go look for Sandy.”
At his wit’s end Toma’s suggestion seemed the only way out. Dick felt his duty to Sandy even greater than that to the minion of the northland law, and he would not exactly be deserting the policeman if he left him with food and firewood.