When Sandy regained consciousness he was lying flat on his back on a cot, surrounded by a ring of anxious faces. He recognized his father, Jerry, Professor Crowell, Lou Mayer, Superintendent MacKensie and several other men from the maintenance gang.
“What—what happened?” Sandy asked weakly.
“It’s all right, Son. You’re fine. Just a nasty bump on the head,” Dr. Steele told him.
“He really clobbered you, Sandy,” Jerry said. “Then he straight-armed me and sent me flying back over a chair. Before I could get up he was gone in the blizzard.”
“There’s no sense trying to follow him in this heavy snow,” MacKensie declared. “His tracks are probably covered already.”
“Did he get away with anything?” Sandy wanted to know.
Dr. Steele and Professor Crowell exchanged significant glances. Then the Canadian geologist said hurriedly, “No, he didn’t steal a thing. Probably some renegade trapper looking for guns and ammunition. They prey on unwary travelers, these chaps. I’ll bet he’s wanted by the Mounties as it is.”
Superintendent MacKensie looked puzzled. “He certainly was a queer one, all right. He really messed things up. But, now, what do you suppose he was after in that stuff?” He pointed to an open valise in the middle of the room.
Sandy propped himself up on one elbow and saw that Professor Crowell’s notebooks and papers were scattered all about the floor.
“He must have thought you had money hidden between the pages,” Lou Mayer said quickly.