“But I must see this through,” she told herself stoutly. “One can not—”
Her thoughts broke off. Gordon Duncan was talking in his sleep.
“We found it together.” His words were distinct. “I was sure it was a great discovery. I urged him to help me bring it out. I talked of money, of the name he would have. But he would not listen. He was a recluse. He would not come. I went for food. He’s there still—out there in the hills alone. For long years I could not recall the way. But now I know. It all came to me there by the tree of the knife. I shall see him soon. He will still be there. He is a recluse—a recluse—he—” His voice trailed off into nothingness, and again the oppressive silence of the mountains brooded over all.
CHAPTER XVII
THE GIANT HUNCHBACK
Before she fell asleep that night Faye found herself wondering about many things. Why had her grandfather brought her so far into the white wilderness? Why had he not told her of the earlier chapters of his life? Who was the man of mystery, her grandfather’s friend of other days? What was the treasure he had babbled of in his sleep? Above all, her mind was troubled by the strange disappearance of Johnny Longbow. Had the avalanche swallowed him up? Had he slipped from some ice encrusted ledge? Had he fallen into the hands of unfriendly whites or Indians?
In the midst of all these puzzlings she fell into troubled sleep to dream of bleak mountains, rushing floods and wild Arctic storms.
Day was breaking when on awakening she struggled to an upright position to gaze wildly about her.
Realizing at last where she was, she took a moment for recalling that which had befallen them on the previous day, then sprang into action.
After a hasty toilet she kindled a fire and put coffee on to boil.
Next she took up Johnny’s light field glass, and walking to a point of vantage, began sweeping the horizon.