She was found to be carrying contraband drugs. “A fair capture in a fair chase,” as Blackie expressed it. “A regular feather in our cap.”
“Well,” said Johnny, “how did you like it?”
“Those are glorious motors,” Lawrence enthused. “How I’d love to be their master. But I hope—” he hesitated. “I rather hope we go after the glacier bears. That’s the surest way to get a tractor. And a tractor’s what we need most.”
“Time and fate will decide,” Johnny said soberly.
“Time and Blackie,” Lawrence added with a laugh.
“And Smokey Joe,” Johnny amended.
CHAPTER IX
FATE LENDS A HAND
Strangely enough it was Fate, in the form of an automobile accident in far away Seattle, that cast the final vote deciding their choice between the Stormy Petrel in Bristol Bay and a glacier bear hunt with Smokey Joe.
Spring had come at last. Steadfastly refusing to go in debt, the Dawsons, with Johnny’s help, were attempting to clear their land without the help of a tractor.
At first it was fun. With blasting powder and dynamite they blew the larger stumps into shreds. The boom—boom—boom of blasts might be heard for miles.