Part 3

He whipped on fast and burst into the cabin upon Sark who with a bandage over a deep cut on his temple was forking bacon from a frying-pan on the stove on to a plate.

“Eric,” Tom greeted with a tremor of relief in his voice, “I struck somethin’ upriver, and I wasn’t—well, sure, you know!”

“I’ve had visitors since you left,” replied Sark grimly.

“Eh?” Bassett put out a sympathetic hand. “But Eric, you didn’t—”

“No,” returned his partner, gripping the extended hand, “the hunt-pack saved me the trouble. Sit in and have supper!”

THE END