“And now,” he added soberly, “now we’ve won the race, what are we to do about it?”

“Put half the prize money in the bank for Mr. Il-ay-ok, spend the rest for grub, a new rifle or two and some ammunition, then go in search of Grandfather’s lost mine,” she panted all in one breath.

“Sounds great!” the boy exclaimed. “Do I go along?”

“Certainly. We’ll be generous,” the girl laughed. “We’ll let you do nearly all the digging.”

“Mulligan’s on,” said Tom Kennedy, dragging up a chair. “What do you say?”

“Grand!” Florence was ready for just that. Never before had she been so hungry and so sleepy all in one.

“Jodie,” she said with the sudden start of one who had recalled something very unusual. “What about this Phantom Leader?”

“Why, have you seen him?” Jodie grinned.

“Sure—sure I’ve seen him, at least that’s what At-a-tak called him. ‘The Phantom Leader.’ And Jodie,” her tone was serious, “that’s why I won the race. He ran before us, miles and miles.”

“Never heard of such a thing,” Jodie stared. “Probably a white wolf daring your dogs to get him, or perhaps a wandering dog.