CHAPTER XII

A LETTER OF INTEREST

"The place looks shut up," observed Chet, when the party came in sight of the Graham homestead. "Not a bit of smoke, and the snow isn't cleared away from the doorstep."

"Maybe Uncle Si is sick and can't get around," answered Andy, quickly.

"Sick? Lazy, you mean," returned his chum.

They advanced to the front door and knocked. There was no sound from within, and Andy walked around to the shed. The door was locked, but the key was on a shelf near by, and he quickly opened the door.

"Uncle Si is away," he announced, as he walked through the cabin, and let the others come in. "My! but it's cold here! We'll have to start a fire right away."

"I'll do that," answered Chet. "You sit down and rest that sore ankle," he went on, to Barwell Dawson, and the hunter was glad to do as bidden.

While Chet started a lively blaze in the big open fireplace, Andy went through the cabin, looking for some trace of his uncle. Much to his surprise, he found Josiah Graham's traveling bag missing, and also all of the man's clothing.

"He has gone away!" he cried, and then caught sight of a letter, pinned fast to the top of a chest of drawers. The outside of the letter was addressed to Andy Graham. The communication was written in lead pencil, in a chirography anything but elegant, and ran as follows:

"_My dere Nephy Andy_ i hav got a chanct to git a job up Haveltown way and i think I beter tak it you dont seme to car for to have me tak car of you so i am goin to leave you to tak car of yourself Mr. Hopton wanted to treet you square but you would knot listen so you must tak the konseakenses. he said the pappers aint much akont anyhowe. i leave my lov even if you dont lik me. --_Josiah Graham_"

It took some time for Andy to decipher the communication, and for the first time in his life he realized how very limited had been the education of his father's half-brother. He read the epistle to Chet and Barwell Dawson.

"He has deserted you!" cried Chet. "Well, 'good riddance to bad rubbish' say I!"

"I think he was afraid that you would make trouble for him," was Mr. Dawson's comment. "He thought you would take those papers to some lawyer, or to the authorities, and tell how he tried to sell them to Mr. A. Q. Hopton on the sly."

"I guess that's the way it is," said Andy. He drew a deep breath. "Well, I am glad to get rid of him so easily. I sincerely hope he stays away."

"But he won't stay away," returned Chet. "He'll wait until he thinks everything is all right again, and then he'll sneak back, to live on you."

"He'll not live on me again," declared Andy. "I know him thoroughly, now. If he wants to stay here he'll have to work, the same as I do."

"Well, you are in possession of your own," declared Barwell Dawson, as he rested in the chair Uncle Si had used. "You can now take it as easy as you please," and he smiled broadly.

"I don't see how I am going to take it easy, if I can't get work," answered Andy, soberly. "A fellow can't live on air. Of course, I can go out hunting and fishing and all that, but that isn't earning a regular living."

"You can't get work anywhere? You look like a strong young man, and willing."

"I am strong, and willing, too. But times are dull, and there are more men up here than there is work. If it wasn't for having the cabin here, I think I'd try my chances elsewhere."

"Where?"

"I don't know--perhaps down in one of the towns."

Andy invited Barwell Dawson to remain at the cabin for the rest of the day, and the invitation was accepted. The chums set to work to prepare a good dinner, and of this the hunter partook with great satisfaction.

"You boys certainly know how to cook," he declared, as he finished up.

"A fellow has to learn cooking and everything, in a place like this," answered Andy.

"It's a good thing to know how to cook. I've found it so, many a time, when off on a hunt."

"Mr. Dawson, I'd like to put a proposition to you," burst out Andy. "Of course, if it doesn't suit, all you've got to do is to say no. But I hope you will give it serious consideration." And Andy looked at Chet, as much as to say, "Shall I go ahead?" To which his chum nodded eagerly.

"What is the proposition?"

"That you take Chet and me with you on your trip north. I know you would prefer men, but we are not so young, and each of us is strong and healthy, and we can do about as much as a man. We are both used to cold weather, and to roughing it, and you know we can shoot, and tramp over the ice and snow--and cook. We talked this over between us, and we'd like to go very much. We don't want any pay, or any reward. All we want is our food, and some ammunition, and we are perfectly willing to rough it along with the rest. We are both practically alone in the world, so nobody will be worried over us, even if we don't come back alive."

"Yes, but you want to come back, don't you?" asked Barwell Dawson, quizzically.

"Of course. But we realize the danger, and we are ready to face it."

"We'll go wherever you go," broke in Chet. "And we'll do just whatever you want us to do. As Andy says, we are used to roughing it, and I think both of us can stand as much as anybody. Why, I don't know that I've had a sick day in my life."

"And I have been sick very little--none at all since I grew up," added Andy.

The hunter and explorer looked sharply at the two boys. He saw by the clear look in their eyes that they were honest to the core, and in earnest in all they said.

"Well, it is something not to have any family ties," he said. "I have two friends who wish to go along, but both have wives, and one has two children. I don't think it would be fair to take them. I am a bachelor myself, and my relatives do not care what I do. I believe if I died, all some of them would think about would be my money." He added the last words rather bitterly.

"Then you will consider taking us?" pleaded Andy.

"Yes, I will consider it. But I must think it over a week or two before I give you my answer. When a man plans such a trip as this, he cannot be too careful as to who are his companions. I must say I like you lads very much, and I haven't forgotten how you aided me at the cliff. But I must have time to think it over carefully, and make a few inquiries."

With this the lads had to be content, and for the time being the subject was dropped. But later on Barwell Dawson showed his interest by asking them a great number of questions about themselves.

"I think he'll take us along," whispered Chet to Andy, on retiring for the night. "And I sincerely hope he does. It may give me a chance to find out what became of the _Betsey Andrews_ and my father."

"Don't be too sure of our going," answered Andy. "If you are, you may be bitterly disappointed."

In the morning it was decided that the two lads should accompany Barwell Dawson to the lodge he had occupied back of Moose Ridge. They went along gladly, wishing to become better acquainted with the hunter and explorer. The storm had now cleared away entirely, the wind had died down, and the clear sun shone upon the ice and snow with great brilliancy.

On the way the party managed to pick up some small game, and Barwell Dawson showed his skill by hitting a partridge at a great distance. He shot with ease, showing that he was thoroughly familiar with the use of firearms. He even gave the boys "points" for which they were grateful.

"He certainly knows how to shoot," said Andy to Chet. "I don't see how he missed that moose."

"He lost his footing, that's how," was the reply. "The very best of sportsmen miss it sometimes."

"Isn't he a splendid fellow, Chet!"

"The finest I've met. Oh, I do hope he takes us along with him!"

When the lodge was reached the boys built a fire and cooked another appetizing meal, the hunter meanwhile resting his ankle, which was still sore. The reader can rest assured that Andy and Chet did their best over the meal, for they wanted to let Mr. Dawson know of their real abilities in the culinary line. The repast was as much liked as the other had been.

"If you go with me, I'll have to throw out the man I was going to take for a cook," declared the hunter and explorer. "I don't believe anybody could serve food better than this."

"Oh, we'll do the cooking all right!" declared Chet, enthusiastically.

"Of course there will be a ship's cook," explained Mr. Dawson. "But he won't go along over the ice and snow. He'll have to remain with the sailors on the ship."

"How many will be in the party to leave the ship?" asked Andy.

"I don't know yet--probably five or six, and the Esquimaux."

Having reached Barwell Dawson's lodge, the party settled down for a week, to hunt and to take it comfortably. During that time the hunter and explorer asked Chet much about himself and his father.

"We must try to find out about that whaler as soon as I go back to town," said Barwell Dawson. "Somebody ought to know something about her."

During the week the hunter and the boys became better friends than ever. The man liked the frank manner of the lads, and Andy and Chet were fascinated by the stories the explorer had to tell.

"I am going down to Portland next week," announced Barwell Dawson one day. "If you both want to go along and see the city, I'll take you, and foot the bill. Then we can go up to the little town where the _Ice King_ is being fitted out, and you can let me know what you think of the ship."

This proposal filled the boys with delight, and they accepted on the spot. Both Andy and Chet made hurried trips to their cabin homes, and came back with the best of their belongings in their grips. Then they helped Barwell Dawson pack up; and two days later started for Pine Run.

There was mild surprise in the village when it was learned the two boys were going away, even though it might be only for a short while. To nobody in the village did Barwell Dawson mention his proposed trip to the frozen north.

"They wouldn't understand it, and it would only make me out an object of idle curiosity," he explained to the boys.

From the general storekeeper Andy learned that his Uncle Si had tried to borrow ten dollars, but without success. The storekeeper said Josiah Graham and Mr. A. Q. Hopton had had a bitter quarrel, and parted on bad terms. He did not know where either individual was now.

"Well, let Uncle Si shift for himself," said Andy to Chet. "It will do him good."

"Right you are, Andy. But what a shame that you lost those papers."

"Oh, don't mention them, Chet. It makes me feel bad every time I think of it."

"You ought to go back some day and take another look for them. I'll help you."

"Yes, I intend to go back--if not right away, then when the snow clears off."

"Provided we are not bound north by that time."

"Yes, provided we are not bound for the Pole!"