<h2 id="c22"><span class="small">CHAPTER XXII</span> <br/>A MAD DREAM</h2>
<p>It was with a feeling of great astonishment
that Curlie, early in the afternoon of the next
short Arctic day, came upon the pile of radiophone
instruments and other articles which had
been piled beside the trail by his companions.</p>
<p>“Now what does this mean?” he said, addressing
his reindeer. “Can’t be they’ve been
ambushed and robbed. Things are piled away
too carefully for that.”</p>
<p>“Hello!” he exclaimed a moment later,
“they’ve left the trail of the outlaw! Of all the
unbelievable things! What could have induced
them to do that? Can’t be trying to outflank
him. Trail they’ve taken is a lot longer than
his.”</p>
<p>He returned to sit down on the sled and
scratch his head.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</div>
<p>“Traveling light, they are. I’d never catch
them now.”</p>
<p>Again he was silent for some time.</p>
<p>“Wish they’d left me a rifle. I’d go after
the outlaw single-handed. But of course they
wouldn’t. Don’t even know I’m alive, let alone
on their trail with a reindeer. Nothing more
improbable than that. Wish I’d risked a call to
them. Didn’t dare, though. Outlaw’d know we
were after him if he listened in. Now what’s
to be done? Have to see how much radiophone
stuff they left behind.”</p>
<p>For some time he busied himself sorting out
the parts of the heavier radiophone set and
connecting them up.</p>
<p>“All here,” he breathed at last, “even my
little outfit for making mince pie of a fellow’s
speech then piecing it together again. Joe took
all the smaller set, though. That’s good. Best
thing I can do is to camp right here and wait
until I’m sure they must be camped for the
night. Then I’ll send out a signal and see if
I can get them. I can talk mince meat fashion
so the outlaw won’t know what it’s about, anyway.
Got to get in touch with them some way
or another.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</div>
<p>Realizing that after hearing from them he
might want to travel at night to make up for
lost time, after tethering out his reindeer he
crept into his sleeping-bag and, in a moment,
fell into a sound sleep.</p>
<p>When he awoke it was quite dark. Getting
busy at once with his radiophone, he sent a signal
quivering through the air.</p>
<p>He received no response.</p>
<p>A half hour later he sent out a second. Still
no answer.</p>
<p>“That’s queer! Mighty queer,” he murmured.
“Still, they may have made rapid time
and got in ahead of the outlaw. May be close
in, too close to risk an answer. No harm to
keep on trying, though.”</p>
<p>It will be remembered that Curlie had not
listened in on any of the messages sent by the
exploring party. As a consequence he was
totally ignorant of their plight and unable in any
way to account for his companions’ sudden
change of course.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</div>
<p>“Queer business!” he told himself as he
prepared to send his third signal. “Mighty
queer!”</p>
<p>Every half hour for three hours he sent out
the signal. Then, just as he was about to give
it up, his receiver rattled and a succession of
short, sharp, meaningless sounds began to pour
forth.</p>
<p>“That’s Joe!” he smiled delightedly. “Nobody
up here can talk that language. Now we’ll
know what’s what.”</p>
<p>His conclusion was correct. It was Joe speaking.
When Curlie had decoded the jumbled
message he needed only to signal back an answering
O. K. In short, concise sentences, Joe
had told him all that he needed to know.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</div>
<p>“And now,” he sat down rather dizzily on
his sled, “where does that leave me? Far as
I can see, it leaves me guardian of that food
supply until the party gets in. It’s the best I
can do. And, unless I miss my guess, it’s going
to be some job! I’m to be a guard without a
gun. And the fellow I’m going up against has
a gun, probably two or three of them.”</p>
<p>After a few moments had elapsed, he spoke
again: “Short day’s journey now. No use
risking coming upon him in the night. Might
as well take another snooze and freshen up a
bit.”</p>
<p>At that he crept into his sleeping-bag once
more, but not to sleep at once. His mind was
too full of thoughts for that. The curtain to
the crowded third act of this little drama of
life which he had been playing was, he felt sure,
about to rise. What was it to be like? What
gun-play, what struggles, what battle of wits
would be enacted upon that white and glistening
stage with no audience save the stars?</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</div>
<p>His mind was filled with a thousand questions.
Who was the outlaw? Was he the
smuggler chieftain or was he not? What grudge
did he hold against the great explorer that he
would travel all this distance to satisfy it? Or
did he hold a grudge at all? Was he merely
coming here to winter in safety? Would he
camp by the food depot or would he destroy it?
Who was his companion? Or did he have no
companion? Had it been he who had appeared
in the mirage or had it not?</p>
<p>Who was the Whisperer? Or was there no
Whisperer? If there was such a person, was
that person a girl and was she with the outlaw
at the present time? If he succeeded in outwitting
the outlaw, would he at last meet the
Whisperer face to face?</p>
<p>All these and many more questions seething
through his brain, kept him for a long time
awake. But at last weariness conquered and
he fell asleep.</p>
<p>When, only a few hours later, he awoke, it
was with a feeling of impending danger. Before
he opened his eyes, he could hear the reindeer
thrashing about among the willows to
which he was tied in a vain attempt to break
away. When he opened his eyes it was to stare
up at a broad dome of sky which appeared to be
all on fire.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</div>
<p>“The food depot!” he groaned, leaping to his
feet. “It was closer than I thought. It’s gone.
Burned!”</p>
<p>“No!” he exclaimed, a second later. “No,
it’s worse than that!” He put his hand to his
forehead. The next instant, reeling like a
drunken man in a delirious dream, he stumbled
toward his reindeer.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</div>
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