After that several days went by slowly. At times Tom seemed to improve and then he would sink back, sometimes becoming quite wild, so the others had to watch him closely. But he grew stronger physically, which was something to be thankful for.

On the third day it started to snow again, and this kept up for twenty-four hours. It was as cold as ever, and the sheet iron stove was kept almost red hot, so that the party, and especially Tom, might not take cold.

On the next morning, much to the surprise of everybody, Tom got up and insisted on walking around the cabin.

"I feel almost well," he told his brothers. "But I'd give a good deal to be home."

That afternoon came a great shouting, and the cracking of whips outside the cabin. At once Tony Bings's face lit up.

"It's the men from the Supply Depot!" he cried. "I reckon it's Schmidt."

"h.e.l.lo, in dare!" was the cry. "Vos you alife alretty, Tony? Vy can't you oben der door und let a feller in, ain't it?"

"h.e.l.lo, Gus!" answered the owner of the cabin, and threw open the door, and in bustled a big, fat German, heavily clad, and wearing thick gloves and ear-warmers. The newcomer stared in astonishment at the Rovers and Jack Wumble.

"Sure und I tidn't know you vos have combany, Tony," said Gus Schmidt.

"My friends," said the old miner, and introduced them. "Tell yer men to come in, and welcome," he went on, and Schmidt went to the door, and called to three men who were with him. They drove up with several dog teams, which they were taking to Dawson for supplies that had come up to that city by way of the Yukon River.

Gus Schmidt, despite his rather uncouth manner, was a whole-souled man, and d.i.c.k and the others took to him at once. He listened gravely to the story they had to tell, and readily agreed to take the Rovers and Jack Wumble with him. Wumble was invited by Tony Bings to remain at the cabin for the winter, but said he would first see the Rovers as far as Dawson, and visit his own claim, and then would return with Schmidt's party.

Of the newcomers one was a German like Schmidt and the other two were Canadians. The latter knew all about the dogs and dog sleds, managing the rather savage animals with scarcely an effort. The dogs had originally belonged to some Alaskan Indians and had cost the owners of the Supply Depot considerable money.

The start for Dawson, so many miles away, was made on the following morning. The boys and Jack Wumble shook hands with Tony Bings, who refused point blank to accept any money for what he had done for them.

Tom was placed on one of the best of the big sleds and made as comfortable as circ.u.mstances permitted.

"All apoardt!" cried Gus Schmidt, gaily, and cracked the long whip he carried. The Canadians understood and cracked their own whips, and away went the whole party, over the fields of ice and snow, in the direction of Dawson.

CHAPTER XXIX

TOM'S WILD RIDE

"Talk about fields of ice, d.i.c.k! Just look around us!"

It was Sam who spoke. The party had come to a halt for the midday meal. They had stopped in the shelter of some big rocks, now thickly covered with snow and ice.

Snow and ice were on all sides--the latter glistening brightly in the sunshine. It was a wonderful transformation from the green and brown that had decked the landscape before winter had set in so suddenly.

"I'd hate to be out in this alone," remarked the big brother. "A fellow could get lost without half trying."

"d.i.c.k, what do you think of Tom?" went on Sam, in a lower tone.

"He's in a bad way again, Sam," was the reply. "Poor fellow! If only we had him where we could place him under the care of some good doctor, some specialist. That is what he needs."

Tom was indeed in a bad way. All morning he had talked in a rambling fashion, to himself and to the others around him. The Canadians were getting afraid of him and the Germans shrugged their shoulders.

"I d.i.n.k he besser peen in an asylum, ain't it," said Gus Schmidt. "A feller can't vos dell vot such a feller vos going to do next alretty!"

"We'll have to watch him," had been d.i.c.k's answer.

One of the Canadians was preparing dinner, aided by one of the Germans.

To show that they did not wish to shirk any camp duties, Sam and d.i.c.k did what they could to a.s.sist. The dogs and the sleds were off to one side. Tom sat on one sled, wrapped in heavy blankets, for it was still very cold.

Suddenly there came a wild shout from the Canadian who was doing the cooking. With a saucepan he pointed to the dogs and sleds. All of the others gazed in that direction and Sam and d.i.c.k set up a cry of alarm.

And well they might, for the sight that met their eyes filled them with fear. In some way Tom had gotten one of the sleds with its dogs away from the others and jumped aboard. With a crack of a whip he was off, standing on the sled and yelling like a demon.

"Tom! Tom! Stop!" screamed d.i.c.k and Sam in unison. "Come back here!"

"I'm off for gold! Nuggets of gold!" yelled the one who was not right in his mind. "Don't you dare to follow me! Off for gold! Gold!

Gold!" And then the sled with its rider pa.s.sed out of hearing, the dogs doing their best, urged on by the continued cracking of the long whip.

"We must catch him!" said d.i.c.k. "Quick! before he gets out of sight over some hill, or around some rocks!"

"He has der pest sled und der pest dogs!" groaned Gus Schmidt. "I said ve must keep an eye on him, yah! Of he busts dot sled somepody got to pay for him!"

"We'll pay, never fear," answered Sam. "But we must catch him! We don't want him to get hurt."

"You come mit me," said the leader of the outfit, motioning to d.i.c.k.

"It ain't no use for all of us to go after him. De udders da stay right here. Ludvig, you hear?"

"Yah," came from the other German, and he nodded his head.

In a few minutes Gus Schmidt had one of the other dog teams ready for use. He was about to jump on the sled when he paused.

"Besser ve took somedings along," he suggested. "Somedings to eat und to trink, hey? Und some plankets, yah?" and he commenced to haul over the packs.

"Why, do you think the chase will be a long one?" asked d.i.c.k, anxiously.

"I can't vos tell dot. Mebbe him peen long. Dem vos schmart togs, I tole you dot."

A pack containing food and blankets was hastily thrown together and strapped to the sled. Then d.i.c.k was a.s.signed a place and Gus Schmidt hopped aboard.

"Of ve ton't got back tonight go on to Riss Rifer," he directed the others.

"Good-by, d.i.c.k, and good luck!" called out Sam, and Jack Wumble waved his hand.

"You take care of yourself, Sam," was the brother's parting caution.

The dog sleds had done some fairly fast traveling before, but the rate of speed now set by Gus Schmidt almost took away d.i.c.k's breath. On and on bounded the sled, the dogs yelping wildly at first, but then settling down to a steady pace. Up one hill awl down another they dashed, sending the loose snow flying in all directions. Soon the camp was left out of sight, even the smoke gradually disappearing from view.

Tom and his outfit were nowhere to be seen, having long since pa.s.sed over a hill to the northward. Gus Schmidt had, however, noted the direction with care. He had noted, too, that the runaway had taken a somewhat curved course, and now he attempted to catch him by taking a straight route for the same point.

For over an hour the chase kept up, and then, reaching the top of a long hill, they saw, far to the northward, a dog sled moving to the eastward.

"I d.i.n.k I got him now!" cried Gus Schmidt, and once more he cracked his long whip and again his team bounded forward. Quarter of an hour pa.s.sed and they drew closer to the other team, and then both the German and d.i.c.k set up a cry of dismay.