will be of inestimable value for them. It will make them self-reliant and teach them to depend upon themselves. Not that they are not in a fair way to be youths of that sort already,” he added, smiling. “If you could have seen them in South America, George, it would have done your heart good.”

“I know, I know,” said Mr. Temple, shaking his head slightly, and smiling. “Several years ago, that time when you were captive in Mexico and they set out to rescue you—”

“Yes, and did,” supplied Mr. Hampton.

“And did,” agreed Mr. Temple. “Well, they showed the stuff that was in them then. And the very same Summer, when I took them to San Francisco on what I considered was going to be a little pleasure trip combining a bit of business with sight-seeing, and—”

“And you became involved with the Chinese smugglers, and imprisoned, and ended up by busting up their show—”

“Yes,” resumed Mr. Temple, “and ended up by bringing the whole outfit into the hands of Uncle Sam’s men. Well, I can tell you, they certainly showed their calibre.”

“So, I reckon it will be all right to take them along on this trip,” said Mr. Hampton.

“I suppose so,” agreed Mr. Temple. “But innocent as it looks now, I have my doubts. I have my doubts. Wherever those three boys are found, there you can look for things to move fast. Trouble courts them, it seems to me.”

Accordingly, the boys had been told they would be taken on the trip into the Far North. And wildly excited they had gone about their preparations. Jack, the keenest radio enthusiast, was all for packing up radio field equipment of every sort right at home. But his father had dissuaded him, pointing out that Seattle was a large city and there everything necessary in the way of an outfit could be purchased, thus saving the trouble and expense of transporting overland to the Pacific port.

“All right, Dad,” Jack had agreed. “But, remember, the selection of the radio equipment is to be left to the fellows and me. We’ve had a lot of experience with the value of radio when in a tight place, especially in South America, and we want to put that experience to use and be prepared for every contingency this time.”

To this Mr. Hampton readily had agreed, with the result that in Seattle the three boys had revelled in the radio equipment stores, which they found well stocked, as the use of radio had developed greatly on the Pacific.

In consequence, their outfit included radio field equipment of the most powerful, yet most compact, designs. For while Mr. Hampton fully realized the value of having the very best yet he had issued a solemn warning that bulk must be considered.

“We will have to travel as lightly as consistent with safety and the purpose of our expedition,” he had said. “So don’t pile up anything too heavy or bulky, or it will have to be discarded.”

Jack knew well that the distance which can be covered with a radiophone transmitter is only about one-fourth as great as that of a wireless telegraph transmitter having the same input of initial current. Therefore, as a means of sending messages, supposedly for aid, over long distances, the wireless telegraph would be the better, inasmuch as equipment for it would be less bulky to transport than equipment for transmitting the human voice. Nevertheless, he was reluctant to place their sole dependence upon the wireless telegraph.

“You see, Dad,” he had pointed out to his father, when the outfit was being assembled, “to reach the outside we shall have to depend upon wireless telegraph. But we will also need the radiophone for this reason: that each one of us ought to have a means of calling the main party in case we become separated through going on scouting or hunting expeditions, or for any reason.”

“Well, that sounds sensible,” his father had agreed. “Go ahead with your plans, but, remember, hold down the bulk.”

The result was that equipment capable of telegraphing five hundred miles was assembled, but also Jack made up five light field sets of radio, one for each of their party and for Farnum, which the user could pack in his clothing and which had a radius up to twenty-five miles. The instrument was Jack’s now famous ring radio, worn on the finger, with a setting only one inch by five-eighths of an inch. Formerly an umbrella as aerial had been employed but Jack had done entirely away with that in his improved set.

“Well, fellows,” said Jack, at last, as Nome faded entirely from view, “I wonder what lies ahead. I wonder whether Thorwaldsson’s expedition was stricken down by a plague, which seems hardly likely, as in that case surely somebody would have managed to get word to the outside by wireless or airplane, or whether it fell victim to a surprise attack by Indians at night, as I understand from Dad that Farnum believes.”

“Is that so,” said Frank, in surprise. “That’s the first I heard of that.”

“Yes,” said Jack. “Dad told me of it when we were coming aboard this schooner. He said it was the first intimation Farnum had given him that such might be the case, and also his first intimation that there were hostile Indians in this country into which we are going. If it weren’t too late, he told me, he would have turned back rather than imperil us, as it is, we shall go pretty warily and try to steer clear of the hostile Indian country.”

“Whew,” said Bob, “this sounds interesting, hey, what?”

His eyes began to shine.

“Old Bob. Always ready for a fight,” said Frank. “Well, let’s give him one.”

And incontinently, he and Jack fell upon the big fellow and a tussle followed that ended only when they almost fell overboard.

CHAPTER III.—IN THE WILDERNESS.

“Well, boys, tomorrow we leave the schooner.”

It was Tom Farnum who made the announcement over dinner which was eaten on deck. The boat was anchored offshore, far up the Hare Indian River, one of the great tributaries of the MacKenzie. How long it was since they had left Nome none could tell, for in that land of perpetual daylight it was hard to keep track of time.

“Tomorrow,” said big Bob, “when is tomorrow?”

He looked at the sun which was still high, despite the lateness of the hour, and would make only an ineffectual attempt to dip below the horizon at midnight, before resuming its upward climb.

Everybody laughed.

“What a topsy turvy land,” said Jack. “Well, I, for one, will be glad to go ashore and stretch my legs. Wonderful as the trip has been so far, I’m eager to get started.”

“Same here,” agreed Frank.

Little of moment had occurred to interrupt the monotony of the trip up the coast and along the northern edge of Alaska and the North American continent to the mouth of the MacKenzie. Of course, occasional ice floes had been encountered and the little schooner had been compelled to make wide detours. But that was to be expected in that Far Northern latitude.

In fact, when they had arrived at the mouth of the MacKenzie, the ice was only recently dissipated from the great river. There, at a dock where a little sidewheel steamer that plied on the MacKenzie in Summer was tied up for repairs, they had replenished their stock of gasoline and then continued the ascent, passing between willowed banks, where huddled occasional trading posts surrounded by native villages, with the snow-capped mountain peaks always in the distance.

Then they had reached the mouth of the Hare Indian River and soon had put beyond them all appearance of the presence of man.

“This is