The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition Part 6

With beating hearts, the party stole back through the trees, spread out with intervals of several yards between each. d.i.c.k and Art, who never stirred anywhere without their rifles with them, being old-timers who knew what it meant to be separated from their weapons in this wild land, were on the ends of the line. The boys had left their rifles behind, as had Mr. Hampton. Farnum, however, had brought his, and held the middle position. The other four were armed with their revolvers.

As they neared the fringe of trees forming the last rampart between them and camp, crouching behind tree trunks as they stole forward, they could see a group of Indians still busy over their disordered luggage, which had been opened and tossed about near the fire. Another group was at the water's edge, loading the canoes which had been drawn up on the sand.

"Just in time," thought Jack.

Then his eye was caught by a picturesque figure of a man emerging from the little tent which Mr. Hampton employed, because he was a sufferer from rheumatism and wanted some shelter to keep off night chills in case they were late in getting out of the country, but which at present frequently was not set up on their halts. The present occasion, however, a whim to sleep under canvas rather than the fir trees had possessed him, and the tent had been set up.

The man who caught Jack's attention differed little in dress from d.i.c.k and Art, but about his head was bound a red bandanna handkerchief in piratical fas.h.i.+on, and this suggestion was increased by his long, drooping black mustaches. Jack could see him clearly, and thought that seldom had he looked upon a more villainous countenance. The fellow held a piece of paper in his hand, and was reading it with evident satisfaction.

A low exclamation from Farnum, next in line on his left, drew Jack's attention. He looked at the latter, crouching behind a tree. Farnum's eyes were ablaze. He had raised his rifle and was pointing it at the man before the tent. The next moment there was a report, the paper fell from the fellow's hand, and he emitted a howl of surprise and pain.

"Just the hand," Jack overheard Farnum say in a tone of vexation, as he prepared to fire again. But the other, seizing his wounded hand in the unwounded one, did not wait for the attack. Running low and in zigzag fas.h.i.+on, he darted for the cover of the trees on the other side of the camp, at the same time shouting an unintelligible warning to his companions.

"Fire," shrieked Farnum, pumping another shot after the fleeing man, that kicked up the dirt at his heels. "That's Lupo the Wolf. Shoot to kill."

Jack shot with the rest, but remembering his father's exhortation fired high. The volley was general. From the rifles of Art, d.i.c.k and Farnum came deeper notes of heavy weapons, while from the four revolvers of the others poured a succession of shots. It sounded as if an army were opening fire from the woods.

The Indians did not stay upon the order of their going. Those grouped about the luggage ran after the disappearing man Farnum had called Lupo the Wolf, while the other group at the canoes dashed away along the graveled bank of the stream. One, however, sought to launch the canoes into the swift current before departing, but his first effort was ineffectual, and any further attempt was stopped by a bullet from Mr.

Hampton's revolver, which winged him in an arm and sent him scurrying after his fellows.

"d.i.c.k, Art, here," cried Farnum, peremptorily.

The two ran to his side.

"That was Lupo the Wolf," Farnum explained rapidly, his voice betraying his excitement. "You can guess what that means?"

The others nodded, with compressed lips.

"I want you to trail them. Don't run into danger, but see if their camp is nearby."

With nods of understanding, the two frontiersmen were off at the run, not crossing the open camp, but circling it amongst the trees. Then Farnum turned to Mr. Hampton, and the boys crowding at his heels.

"That wasn't just an attack from Indian thieves," he said. "Mr.

Hampton"-and his voice took on a solemn tone-"that was a blow from the enemy."

"What do you mean?"

"They were desperadoes under the personal leaders.h.i.+p of Lupo the Wolf."

"And he?"

"He is a cross-breed, half Indian, half white, and the most notorious bad man in the north. He is known not only throughout the length and breadth of Alaska, but throughout the Yukon of Canada, too. From Ketchikan to Arctic City, and from Nome to Dawson, he has gambled, fought, knifed, murdered, and never been brought to book. Ah, you consider Alaska is law-abiding these days. To a certain extent, the towns and mining camps have grown more orderly and there are sheriffs 'north of 54.' But might still rules in the camps."

Farnum spoke bitterly, and leaned a moment on his rifle. As it was evident, however, that he had not yet finished, the others did not interrupt. Presently he resumed.

"Lupo recruits his men from the fisheries. Men of the lowest type come there in Summer, in droves, lured by the high wages. They form temporary alliances with the native women. Then in the Fall, they depart. You can guess what the children of such lawless unions are like. They are cross-breeds, inheriting the most vicious and lawless characteristics of the human race. It is from them Lupo recruits his following."

"But why should they be away over here, in this unpeopled wilderness?"

asked Mr. Hampton. "Unless-" He paused and looked questioningly at Farnum.

The latter nodded.

"That's it," he said. "Why? Unless, if you will let me finish for you, Lupo is on our trail. And that I believe to be the case. When Frank here first came with word of Indians in camp, I considered them merely raiders from some pa.s.sing body of hunters. But when I found Lupo at their head, I knew better. The wonder to me is," he said, growing thoughtful, "that he did not send men to trail us and kill us or take us prisoner."

Mr. Hampton shrugged.

"Even the cunningest slip up now and then," he said. "Perhaps his men wanted to loot first. And, anyway, they had only been here a few moments when, thanks to Frank, we were able to surprise them. Well, thanks to our good angel, we came off as well as we did. Nothing stolen, our canoes still here, n.o.body hurt."

"Ah," said Farnum, darkly, "we're not out of the woods yet. If Lupo the Wolf is after us, well-there is trouble ahead."

CHAPTER VII.-A MAN OF THE "MOUNTED."

While Mr. Hampton and Farnum turned in to take inventory to discover what, if anything, had been stolen, the boys went back to take down and pack their radio outfit. As it lay in the opposite direction from that taken by the Indians who, moreover, were being tracked by d.i.c.k and Art and could not double back without warning being given, it was considered safe for the boys.

When they returned to camp, they found the two frontiersmen ahead of them. These reported the Indian camp pitched some two miles in their rear and that, upon arrival, Lupo and his men had packed up and taken canoe on the back track.

"Now what does that mean?" asked Farnum, thoughtfully. "It is probable that Lupo has been behind us all the way, if what I suspect is true, namely that they have been trailing us. But why should they be fleeing now?"

"They can't have been close to us all the time, Mr. Farnum," said Bob, "or why weren't we attacked before?"

Farnum nodded.

"That's true enough," he said. "It may be that Lupo started late and has been all this time catching up with us."

Breaking a thoughtful silence, Mr. Hampton said:

"As a matter of fact, that seems the most probable explanation. The other side, Farnum, probably has a spy at Nome, of whom you are unaware.

But the spy knows your ident.i.ty. Your story of taking us into the wilderness to hunt may have deceived this spy. But then, later, word would reach him from Seattle of my ident.i.ty. Not that it is commonly known. But if some traitor close to Anderson is trading on Farrell's secret, my connection with Anderson would be suspected, especially as several years ago I worked with the Anderson oil crowd in New Mexico. So words would reach Nome to watch me. Then someone would start out on our trail."

"And that someone was Lupo," said Farnum. "A fine cutthroat."

An earnest discussion followed. What did this turning back of Lupo the Wolf mean? Did he intend to stick to their trail, but at a greater distance in the rear? Or did he plan to encircle them and lie in ambush ahead? That his retreat was other than momentary, and meant he intended giving up their pursuit, n.o.body believed.

"Look here, Dad," said Jack, during the course of this discussion, "don't you consider it quite likely that Lupo intends to take us by surprise and attack us, rather than to retreat?"

Mr. Hampton nodded.

"I do, indeed, Jack," he said. "A cutthroat such as Lupo would have brought his band of desperadoes here for only one purpose, and that is, to dispose of us. We were lucky this time by reason of the fact that they came upon our camp first, and stopped to loot. But from now on we shall have to be continually on our guard."

"It's a good thing, Mr. Hampton, that this is the long Summer, when daylight never fails," said Frank. "That makes it easier to guard against a surprise attack."

"Yes," Mr. Hampton agreed, "that makes it easier. But from now on, we shall have to be on the watch continually."

He was silent a moment, thinking. Then he turned to the other members of the party, Farnum, d.i.c.k and Art being gathered about him as well as the boys, preparatory to the launching of the canoes, which were ready loaded.