On the Yukon Trail / Radio-Phone Boys Series, #2

opes, told that outside a gale was blowing. Beneath Curlie was a roll of deerskin and beneath that was ice; a glacier, the Valdez Glacier. They were a half day's journey from th

n a deerskin sleeping-bag, lay Joe Ma

llow's going to keep warm, sleeping right out here on the ice with the wind singing

s In," you scarcely need be told that Curlie Carson is a boy employed by the United States Bureau of Secre

a pleasure yacht, he had had many narrow escapes, but this new bit of service

ne messages. This man was known to be possessed of abundant resources, to be powerful and dangerous. He had a perfect knowledge of all matters pertaining to the radiophone and was possessed of a splendidly equipped sending and receiving s

ighed down by the radiophone receiver which was clamped upon his ears, he appeared half asleep. Yet every now and again hi

oks straight up; slick as glass, too. How y' ever goin' to get three sleds and eight hundred pounds of j

Jennings," mu

ne too long already. What's that package he took with him? Gave us the slip

ll right to me,"

e aerial a

, any

ling like a rabbit's when he eats clover. Joe knew what

hat whisper many times before. For many days it had been silent. Now s

ears, he caught, faint as if coming from af

ed - to - tell - you - the - man - you - are - after - is - on - the - Yukon - Trail - coming - south. He - started - ye

ood out upon the tip of Curli

s of the radio-compass was coming south over the trail. They would meet. He wondered how and where. There were wild, desolate stretches of tu

do. He might turn back. Then all that time would be lost. N

gold rush of '98 and who had offered to go with them now without pay. He had, as he expressed it, been called back by the "lure of the North," and must a

ort, broad-shouldered person with keen, deep-set blue eyes

in yet?" His eye

ental note of the fact that Jennings had not brought back the p

etter get into them sleepin'-bags pronto. Got a good stiff day

y depths of his sleeping-bag, had given himself over to a few moment

t a square of canvas between his sleeping-bag and the ice, and with the temperature at thirty below, c

r just at nightfall. There were many of these ridges. Dogs without sleds could climb them, but up their slopes they could not pull a pound. A man climbed them with difficulty. His feet slipping a

four days of travel to reach a point which, straight

ake care of itself. Perhaps Jennings really kno

the yacht, in the tent on the trail, her whisper had come to him. Always it told of the doings of one man, the man he had been sent after. But what sort of person? He had pictured her to himself as a small, dark, vivacious girl with snapping black eyes. Yet that was only a piec

d himself at last. "Probably

f his revery h