Again the miner was silent.
Removing a small disc from the instrument which had produced the strange jumble of sounds, Curlie slipped it upon a second instrument which resembled a small phonograph.
“Now listen to this,” he said to Joe, as he shut off the radiophone.
From the phonograph-like instrument there came first a grating sound, then in a somewhat metallic but very distinct tone:
“Valdez speaking. Your man is still active. Doing much damage in air. Last night interrupted an important U. S. army order. Seemed nearer. Appears to be moving toward us. Location somewhere south of Fort Yukon. Advise speed and caution. N. T. S.”
“Well, now, what do you think of that!” exclaimed Joe.
“I think,” said Curlie, “that we have put one over on our old friend up north there who persists in raising hob in the air.
“You see,” he went on more soberly, “it’s a very recent invention. You slip a little affair on your sending instrument, which tears your tones all into little bits and sends them out as so much mental mince pie. But this little instrument here straightens them out for the person at the other end and gives them to him just as they have been spoken. I feel sure that the man we are after does not possess one of the outfits. That means that we may speak with Valdez at any time without fear of detection. All that an outside party gets is a jumble of sounds.
“If we ever get separated on the trail we may speak to one another in the same way. You have that small, reserve sending and receiving set on your sled and I am going to give you a set of these new instruments.
“Once more,” he smiled, “I want to state that it is my belief that if you keep your little radiophone dry and tuned up, it will help you out of any dangerous position.”