“All right, Russ,” Stern said. “We’ll hold supper for you.”
“What’s he got to do?” Jerry inquired as they walked through the crunchy snow to the jeep, which was almost hidden by the great cloud of smoke that was pouring out of the exhaust.
“He wants to make sure the crankcase gets drained,” Stern said. “You really do have to treat machinery as if it were a baby in cold like this. That’s why I left the jeep running. It could freeze up in a few minutes.”
As they drove through the town of Kodiak, the boys were fascinated by the atmosphere. The cultures of three centuries and varied races were blended startlingly but not offensively.
“It’s like being on a Hollywood sound stage where the sets are all mixed up,” Sandy said breathlessly.
“Mostly, it reminds me of the Old West,” Jerry said. “Dodge City. I almost expect to see Wyatt Earp come striding down the middle of the street with his hands on his six-guns.”
Professor Stern laughed. “That’s an apt description, Jerry. This is the twentieth-century American frontier in a sense. It’s only fitting that the characteristics of the frontier should predominate.”
The hunting lodge was a sprawling two-story log building about a mile outside of Kodiak, with a wide porch running around it on three sides. Lights blazed warmly from its windows as they pulled in the drive and bumped along to a big barn at the back of the house.
“Four other teachers and myself own it jointly,” Stern explained. “We bought it about ten years ago as a summer place. The fact is, we’ve been using it just as much in the winter as a hunting lodge.”
“Did I understand you to say we were having bear roast for supper, Professor?” Jerry inquired politely.