Had they known under what strange circumstances this belief would be tried in the days to come and on this very trip, the two boys might not have laughed quite so merrily as Curlie again threw on the radiophone and they listened to jazz being broadcasted from Seattle.
Joe, tired out from the day’s struggle over the glacier, feeling the cozy warmth of the fire, stretched himself out on his sleeping-bag and fell at once into a drowsy slumber.
“Here,” said Curlie, noting the eager manner in which Jennings listened to the bits of music and gossip which drifted in from the air, “you listen with this.” He snapped a receiver over the miner’s head. “I’ve got to shut off that loud-speaker. Want to listen in and see what I can catch.”
For a time he listened on short wave lengths for his friend, the Whisperer. At last, having given that up, he tuned in on long wave lengths and at once began picking up something.
Having tuned his instrument accurately and adjusted his coil aerial, he succeeded in listening in in a very satisfactory matter.
“Big business,” he whispered to himself. “Shouldn’t wonder if that was a clue.”
It was indeed big business that was flashing through the air that night. It was the report of a government official, the announcement of the securing of sufficient evidence at Nome, Alaska, to convict a bold band of smugglers who had been carrying valuable jewels, taken from rich families in Russia, into America by way of Alaska. These smugglers had escaped detection for some time by traveling in native skin-boats across Behring Straits. In some way, Curlie could hardly make out how, the great explorer Munson had been of assistance to the government in bringing these men to justice. Because of this service the government was instructing all its officials, especially wireless operators, to lend every assistance possible to Munson in his dash to the Pole.
“Don’t see how a fellow three thousand miles away can help an explorer reach the Pole,” Curlie told himself, “but I suppose there must be a way—”
His thoughts were cut short by an interruption to the message. Someone with a powerful sending set had cut loose into the air with his sparker. The result was utter bedlam of the air. Not one word could be recognized.
“That’s the man,” Curlie breathed excitedly, “that’s the fellow I’m after! Now for his location.”