“Do you think Professor Crowell’s team has a chance to win the race from Whitehorse to Skagway?” Sandy asked him.
“We win,” Charley said matter-of-factly. “Best team, best lead dog.” He patted Titan’s head. “Black Titan pull sled all alone if he have to.”
“Is the professor going to drive himself, Charley?” Jerry inquired curiously.
The Indian shrugged his shoulders. “Better he not drive in race. Professor fine dog driver, but safer if he not drive this race. On trail easy for bad men to get him. Better for Charley to drive team.”
“Charley,” Sandy asked worriedly, “do you have any idea why the bad men are after Professor Crowell? Why would anyone want to harm a nice man like him?”
Anger tightened Charley’s features. “Professor got something they want very bad. They kill him if they have to.”
“But what do they want? What is it the professor has that’s so valuable to them? Money? Jewels?”
Charley shook his head. “Professor no have money or jewels. Maybe something he have in here.” He tapped his finger against his forehead wisely.
Sandy looked at Jerry. “You know, he could have something there. I think I’m going to have a man-to-man talk with my dad first chance I get.”
The two boys rode on the sled as ballast while Charley put the powerful team through its paces, whizzing back and forth on the hard-packed surface of the landing strip and churning through high drifts in the virgin snow around the fringes.