"n.o.body anywhere," he reported, "and we made a thorough search, too."

"More thorough than there was need for," said Farnum, grumpily.

Mr. Hampton smiled slightly. On long trips into the wilderness, where men are thrown into intimate contact every hour of the day and night, they get to know each other better than would be the case through a lifetime of a.s.sociation under ordinary circ.u.mstances. It was so here.

Mr. Hampton had come to love the silent, capable Farnum. Behind the latter's bitter hatred of Lupo and his like, the easterner knew there was some good reason. He sensed a tragedy in Farnum's past, about which, perhaps, the other would some day speak in a moment of confidence. And he forgave the man's seeming brutality accordingly.

"All right, everybody," said Mr. Farnum, cheerily. "Let's pack up and be on our way."

Thanks to Art's previous preparations, the business of breaking camp was speedily concluded, and the party embarked in the canoes and once more got under way. Farnum and Art both considered that, because of Frank's wounded shoulder and his inability to paddle, Art should take his place in the canoe with Bob and Jack while Frank went with Mr. Hampton and Farnum. But to this arrangement the boys protested vigorously, and Mr.

Hampton settled the matter by supporting them.

"Bob and Jack are splendid canoeists," he said. "They have given plenty of evidence of that on this trip, and at home they are always in the water when they aren't flying. No, let Frank stay with them. They don't like to be separated."

CHAPTER XX.-IN THE FOG.

Another period of uneventful canoe travel followed, corresponding in time to the pa.s.sage of a day, although there was nothing to mark the lapse except the slightly-deepened twilight preceding the reascension of the sun. Camp was pitched on an island in the stream which was small and compact and could be easily defended in case attack on them was renewed.

Of the latter contingency, however, Mr. Hampton felt there was little danger. With Lupo gone, the rascals composing his party would no longer be held to their purpose, and start to make their way out of the wilderness and back to their accustomed haunts.

When travel was resumed after an undisturbed camp, everybody felt rested and in a more cheerful frame of mind.

"We ought to be reaching the Coppermine soon," Farnum exclaimed, as they set out.

His words were prophetic, because at the end of two hours, on rounding a bend, they discerned not far ahead a broad and rapid river, into which emptied the stream they had been following.

"The Coppermine beyond a doubt," said Farnum.

In this diagnosis, Mr. Hampton and Art agreed. And, before long, all question of doubt was conclusively settled by the discovery of great rocks of a dull reddish color lining the banks. These were the copper deposits from which the river took its name.

"Sometime, when the transportation problem has been solved, this region will be supplying copper to the world," Mr. Hampton observed.

The canoe containing the boys was close alongside, as the older men had let their paddles swing idly to enable Bob and Jack to catch up with them.

"Why can't it be taken out now, Dad?" asked Jack.

"Because," explained Mr. Hampton, "the only method would be by ship through the Arctic, and even in the short Summer that is a pa.s.sage often blocked by ice. No, development of the copper resources of this wilderness, as well as of the oil we hope to find, will have to wait on the building of a railroad."

"But ice and snow will block the railroad."

"Not nearly to the same extent," Mr. Hampton said. "Throughout the Summer, such a road could be in continuous operation. Even in Winter, with properly designed equipment, the road could be kept open-perhaps.

That, however, is doubtful, for of the continuous severity of Winter here you boys can have no conception."

"Well, if we don't turn back soon, they'll get some idea of it, all right," said Farnum, grimly.

"You mean we'll be caught by Winter before we can get out?" asked Mr.

Hampton.

"When the old North Pole starts sliding south, she slides fast," said Farnum, sententiously.

As if spurred by the specter of approaching Winter, all dug their paddles into the stream with renewed vigor, and the two canoes swept on between the dismal, rocky banks hour after hour.

That night there was real twilight, and a sharpness in the air to which the party was not accustomed. Art pointed skyward, as he and the boys worked at building the campfire. Their gaze followed whither he indicated.

"The moon," he said. "Sure sign the season's getting late. That's the first time you could see it real good."

"How late in the Summer is it, anyway?" asked Frank. "I, for one, have kept no track of time. And I don't see how anybody else could with the continuous daylight we have had."

"Dad religiously checks off the days every twenty-four hours," said Jack. "I've seen him do it."

Over the evening meal, Mr. Hampton explained that from Long Tom, the Indian they had taken captive on the island in the lake, he had gotten directions as to where the latter believed Thorwaldsson and his men to be. The explorer, according to Long Tom, was making his way along the Coppermine, in an endeavor to get out to the south before caught by the Winter. He had started late, and in all likelihood, Mr. Hampton's party was still to the south of Thorwaldsson.

"From now on, however," said Mr. Hampton, "we must keep our eyes open as we proceed for any signs along the way which would indicate Thorwaldsson already had pa.s.sed, going south. Not that I consider that to be likely, however," he added. "On the contrary, if Long Tom wasn't lying, and I believe he was telling the truth, Thorwaldsson should be close at hand, and we ought soon to encounter him."

Camp again was uneventful, but when the boys awoke in the morning they found a thick wet fog over all. Their blankets were wet with it, the rocks were wet, and the river which had lain spread out before them under the moonlight when they turned in for the night, now could not be seen. Only a gray wall of fog greeted them, blurring the outlines even of Mr. Hampton, Farnum and Art, who stood in anxious conversation.

When the boys joined their elders, they found the question up for discussion was the question of whether to proceed or remain where they were until the fog lifted.

"We've had unexampled good weather so far, Mr. Hampton," said Farnum.

"But this fog may mark the breaking-up. We may be in for it from now on."

"I realize all that," Mr. Hampton said, his slight impatience mute evidence to Jack, at least, that his Father was worried. "What I'd like to know now, is whether to move on or wait till the fog lifts."

"Why not move on, Dad?" asked Jack.

"Oh, you boys up, hey? Well, for one thing, if we travel in this fog we run the danger of being caught in rapids and sucked forward before being able to reach the bank. For another, we might-just might-pa.s.s Thorwaldsson, in the fog, without knowing it. He might be traveling, too."

After some further discussion, it was decided the party should remain until the fog lifted, and that all should be on guard to catch any sound of movement out of the fog which would indicate somebody, presumably Thorwaldsson, was pa.s.sing. Following breakfast, in fact, all but Mr.

Hampton, who remained in camp, as a guide in case the others blundered and lost their way in the fog, took up positions along the bank of the river, some twenty yards apart to maintain "listening posts."

An hour pa.s.sed, and then another, with no indication that the fog was thinning out, and with no sound coming to straining ears except the lap of the water along the rocks at their feet. It was nerve-trying work in a way, to sit there for so long a period, isolated, as if entirely alone in an unpeopled world. The boys, at their various stations, felt the strain considerably, more so, indeed, than did Farnum or Art who were old hands at the wilderness game.

In a.s.signing all their stations, Mr. Hampton had decided, because of the greater experience of the two older men, that they should take up their positions at the south end of the line. If any party south-bound along the Coppermine escaped the attention of the boys, Farnum and Art would be pretty likely to remedy the oversight.

To Bob fell the most northerly position. And, as he sat there, hunched up on a rock, staring out into that thick greasy wall of mist, he felt, if anything, more lonely than his companions. Jack and Frank, at least, had the consolation of knowing there was someone to either side. But, with none of his friends beyond him on the north, Bob felt very much alone, indeed.

All sorts of reflections entered his mind, reflections that had no bearing whatsoever on the situation in which he found himself. He thought of sunny days on Long Island, of flights in his airplanes or zipping trips along the coast in his speed boat. He thought of one thing and another, cla.s.sroom, Mexican mountains, that strange city of another world found immured in the Andes, and-of Marjorie. Ever since his first meeting with his sister's friend, Miss Faulkner, she had occupied a position of growing importance in Bob's scheme of things. Someday--

"Some girl," Bob said to himself. "I'll have to see more of her."

He leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees, eyes staring into the fog. In reality, his thoughts, as can be seen, were far, far away. But presently, a sound, m.u.f.fled and faint, pierced his consciousness and he sprang into instant alertness. He listened, holding his breath, straining to hear.

It came again.

Bob started on a stumbling run for Jack, the first man to the south.