"Why?"

"Because--well, he doesn't know me--that is, he doesn't know I am alive."

"This is extraordinary, young man!" exclaimed the officer of the police, for such the man was. "I think you had better explain."

"I am in a great hurry, sir," pleaded Dave.

"He wants to catch his father before the expedition leaves Christiania,"

put in Roger.

"Before it leaves?"

"Yes."

The police official drew up his shoulders and made a wry face.

"Has it left already?" questioned Dave, eagerly.

"To be sure--four days ago," was the answer, which filled Dave's heart with fresh dismay.

CHAPTER XIX

OFF TO THE NORTHWARD

Dave and Roger were told to follow the police officer, and did so, to a large stone building, located on one of the princ.i.p.al streets of the Norwegian capital. As they walked along many gazed at the American boys with interest.

Conducted into a plainly furnished office, the boys were told to sit down. Then they were asked if they had any objection to their baggage being examined.

"Not the slightest," answered Dave, and Roger said the same.

"At the same time I wish you to understand one thing," went on Dave's chum. "I am the son of a United States senator, and if I have to suffer any indignity at your hands you'll hear from it later, through the proper authorities."

"A United States senator's son!" murmured the police official. "Ah!" He took a long breath. "I shall not detain you a second longer than is necessary, sir," he went on, more civilly.

After that Dave and Roger were asked a great number of additional questions, and Dave had virtually to tell his story from beginning to end. Several officials listened with interest, but whether they believed him or not the boy could not tell.

"I am afraid you will have hard work finding your parent," said the police officer, at the conclusion of the interview.

"He must have left some directions behind--for forwarding mail, and the like."

"Possibly, but I doubt it. The expedition was bound up into the mountains,--so it was said. The means of communication are very poor at this time of year."

The baggage was gone over with care, and the examination was evidently a disappointment to those who made it. A long talk in Norwegian followed between several police officials, and then Dave and Roger were told that they could go.

"Would you mind telling me what it is all about?" questioned Dave, when he was ready to leave.

"You will have to excuse me, but I am not permitted to answer that question," said the man who had brought them in, gravely. "If we have detained you without just cause, we are very sorry for it." And that was all he would say.

"It's mighty queer, to say the least," observed Roger, after they had taken their departure. "Dave, what do you make of it?"

"I think they took us to be some foreigners who had come to Norway for no good purpose. You must remember that throughout Europe they have great trouble with anarchists and with political criminals who plot all sorts of things against the various governments. Maybe they took us to be fellows who had come here to blow somebody up."

"They ought to know better than that. I don't think we look like anarchists."

"Since that uprising in Russia, and the attempt on the king in Italy, every nation over here looks with suspicion on all foreigners. But there is something else to it, I imagine," went on Dave, seriously. "Those fellows acted as if they didn't think much of this expedition which my father has joined. Maybe that is under suspicion, too."

"Yes, I noticed that--and if it is true, your father may have some trouble before he leaves Norway."

"I wish I could get to him at once. I could warn him."

From an Englishman on the steamer the boys had learned of a good hotel where English was spoken, and there they obtained a good room for the night. Before going to bed Dave mailed several postals to Jessie, and also a letter to his Uncle Dunston and another to Phil Lawrence, for the benefit of the boys at Oak Hall.

It was not difficult in Christiania to find out when the Lapham-Hausermann Expedition had left the capital, or what had been its first stopping-place. It had taken a railroad train to Pansfar and then gone northward to the mountain town of Blanfos--so called because of the waterfall in that vicinity--a waterfall being a _fos_ in the native tongue.

"I don't see anything to do but to journey to Blanfos," said Dave. "I presume it will be a mighty cold trip, and you needn't go if you don't wish to, Roger."

"Didn't I say I'd go anywhere you went--even if it's to the North Pole?"

was the answer. "Come on,--I'm ready to start any time you are."

"I don't think we'll get to the North Pole, but we may get to the North Cape. But we can't start until we've got those fur overcoats we talked about."

At several of the shops in Christiania they procured all the additional clothing they thought they needed. Some of their lighter-weight stuff they left behind, not wishing to be enc.u.mbered with too much baggage.

They booked for Pansfar at the railroad station, and by the middle of the afternoon of the second day in Norway were bound northward.

"There is that police official, watching us!" cried Roger, as the train was about to depart. He was right--the man was in sight, but he quickly lost himself in a crowd, and whether he got on the train or not they could not tell.

The train was but scantily filled, and only four people occupied the coach with the young Americans. One couple was evidently a newly married pair who had been on a wedding trip to Christiania, and they were very retired and shy. The other pair were a burgomaster and his wife, from some interior town. The burgomaster--who held a position similar to that of a mayor in an American city--wanted everybody to know who he was, and was thoroughly disagreeable. He crowded Dave into a corner until the youth could hardly get any air.

"I'll thank you not to crowd so much--there is plenty of room," said the boy.

The Norwegian did not understand, and continued to crowd the youth. Then Dave grew thoroughly angry and crowded back, digging his elbow well into the burgomaster's fat ribs. This caused the man to glare at the young American. Nothing daunted, Dave glared back.

"What do you do that for?" demanded the burgomaster, sourly.

"I don't speak Norwegian," answered Dave, brokenly, for that was one of the native phrases he had picked up. "But I want you to quit crowding me," he added, in English, and moved his elbows to show what he meant.

The burly Norwegian had supposed he would daunt Dave by his looks, and when he saw that the young American was unmoved he was nonplussed. He growled out something to his wife, who grumbled something in return. He did not budge, and Dave continued to hold his elbow well in the fellow's ribs. The situation had its comical side, and it was all Roger could do to keep from laughing.

"If you don't stop that, I'll have you put off the train!" roared the burgomaster.

As Dave did not understand, he said nothing.

A few minutes pa.s.sed, and the train came to a halt and the door was unlocked. n.o.body got out, but a round and ruddy-faced man got in and nodded to all those present.