"I think they went to Dawson City," said a man standing nearby.

"Anyway, Furner told me he was goin' there first, an' then up to Lion Head."

This put a new view on the matter, and the boys and Jack Wumble questioned the stranger. The upshot was that they decided to go directly to Dawson, that mecca of all gold hunters in Alaska.

"Now, the thing of it is, How can we get to Dawson from here?" said Sam.

"That's easy," replied Jack Wumble. "Just leave it to me."

Inside of an hour their arrangements were made and they were off.

Previous to going they made more inquiries concerning Tom and his strange companion, and reached the conclusion that the pair had really headed for Dawson.

"But there is no telling how soon they will change their minds and go somewhere else," said d.i.c.k, with a sigh.

It is not my purpose to tell the particulars of the tedious journey to Dawson City, about three hundred and fifty miles north of Skagway. At that time all of the improvements that now exist had not been made and the crowd suffered from many inconveniences.

But the boys were surprised when they reached Dawson to find it so "up to date," as Sam expressed it. They had expected to see a rough mining town--and that is what Dawson was but a handful of years ago. Instead, they saw a built-up city, with many stores and not a few hotels.

"Goin' to be a reg'lar 'Frisco some day," said Jack Wumble. "Beats all how the towns grow up here!"

The party had arrived in Dawson late at night and put up at the best hotel to be found. Immediately after breakfast the search for Tom was renewed.

It had rained the day before and now it was bl.u.s.tery and cold, with a suggestion of snow in the air. The boys were glad enough to don their sweaters under their coats.

"Ye'll have to git some heavy clothin' if ye go North," said the old miner.

"I hope Tom is dressed warm enough," said Sam. "It would be too bad if he took sick, along with his other troubles."

For two days the boys and the old miner hunted around Dawson for some trace of the missing one. They visited all sorts of places, but all to no purpose. During that time the weather grew suddenly colder and on the second night came a light fall of snow.

"Won't be long now before winter will be on us," announced Jack Wumble.

"And winter up here is somethin' wuth rememberin', believe me!"

The next morning found d.i.c.k at a large trading store, where many miners and prospectors purchased their supplies. Here he asked all newcomers if they had seen or heard of Tom or Ike Furner.

"Sure, I see Furner!" cried one old prospector. "See him yesterday afternoon."

"Where?" demanded d.i.c.k, eagerly.

"Over on the Lion Head trail."

"Alone?"

"No, he had a young feller with him."

CHAPTER XX

IN THE MOUNTAINS OF ALASKA

"Sam, I think we are in for a heavy snow to-day."

"I think so myself, d.i.c.k. How much further do we go?"

"About two miles," came from Jack Wumble. "I reckon I got a bit off the trail yesterday, but I know I am right now, boys."

"But where is Tom?" came from Sam.

"He must be right ahead of us--if what we have been told is true,"

answered his brother.

The conversation recorded above took place just ten days after d.i.c.k and Sam arrived in Dawson City. During that time the Rover boys and Jack Wumble had spent two days in buying the necessary outfit, to follow Tom and his strange companion to the wild region in Alaska known as Lion Head. The start had been made, and now the three found themselves on a narrow mountain trail in a country that looked to be utterly uninhabited.

For three days they had been close behind Tom and Ike Furner, this being proven by the remains of campfires and other indications. Once they had met some prospectors returning to the Klond.y.k.e and these men had told of pa.s.sing the pair ahead, and that Furner had said they were bound for a spot not many miles from Lion Head called Twin Rocks.

"I never heard o' Twin Rocks before," said Jack Wumble. "But if it is nigh Lion Head we ought to be able to locate it."

"Provided we don't get snowed in before we reach it," returned Sam.

On and on trudged the three. They had left the last supply depot behind. They had pa.s.sed only a handful of white folks and a band of five Indians.

"Do you know, I didn't like the looks of those Indians we pa.s.sed yesterday," remarked d.i.c.k, as they went forward over the rough, upward trail.

"They looked pretty sharply at our outfits," said Sam. "I guess they'll like to own them," he added.

"We have got to keep our eyes open," said Jack Wumble. "Them Injuns ain't above stealin' if they git a chanct."

"In such an out-of-the-way place as this, we can't afford to lose our things," a.s.serted d.i.c.k.

"Maybe we had better set a guard, at night," suggested his brother.

"Oh, we don't want to lose any sleep, if we don't have to."

It had grown colder and colder, and now the wind swept around them in anything but a pleasant fashion. About noon came a flurry of snow.

"I don't like that," said d.i.c.k, shaking his head and looking up at the darkening sky.

"Oh, let's hope it won't amount to much, d.i.c.k," replied Sam.

The traveling was steadily upward, for they had to pa.s.s over a high hill to get into the valley leading to Lion Head. There was something of a trail, made by wild animals originally and now used by prospectors. This wound in and out among the rock and bushes. The footing was uncertain, and more than once one or another would go down in a hole.

"Talk about walking!" gasped Sam, after pulling himself out of a hole well concealed by bushes. "I'm thankful I didn't break a leg that time."

"An' ye can be thankful ye didn't stir up no snakes," came from Jack Wumble.

"Are there snakes up here, Jack?"