BROKEN WIRES
True to Bob's prediction, the snowstorm proved to be a fierce one even
for this season of unusual snows, and when the boys awoke the next
morning they found that the ground had taken on an extra covering and
the branches of the trees were weighted down with the heavy fall.
"Say, fellows, look what's here!" cried Joe as he roused his mates,
sleepy-eyed from their comfortable beds. "Old Jack Frost sure was busy
last night."
"Guess he thinks it's Thanksgiving," Bob agreed as he hurried into his
clothes, keeping one eye on the frosty landscape and fairly aching to
make part of it. "Hurry up, fellows, let's go out and have a snow
fight."
"You're on," agreed Joe, and then began the race to see who would get
from their cottage to the hotel and to the breakfast table first.
They arrived there--at the breakfast table, that is--at one and the
same time and ate as ravenously as though they had not broken their
fast in a week. Mr. and Mrs. Layton watched them and smiled, wishing
that they might once more eat with such lusty appetites.
Before the boys had finished breakfast, it had begun to snow again,
making the landscape appear more than ever blizzardy and bleak.
Eagerly the boys buttoned up heavy sweaters, prepared to fight the
storm to a finish.
It seemed that they were not the only ones whom the storm had lured
forth. There were a number of people gathered in front of the hotel
and, since they seemed rather excited about something, three of the
boys joined them to find out what the fuss was all about, Jimmy
remaining behind for the time being to take a nail from his shoe.
"The telegraph wires are all down," said a man in response to Bob's
question. "There's a man been raving around here like a crazy man,
declaring he has to send a telegram. Nobody can seem to make him
understand that since the wires are all down such a thing is
impossible."
"He might telephone," Joe suggested, but the man who had been their
informant took him up quickly.
"They're down too," he said. "We're as marooned here, as far as any
communication with the outside world is concerned, as though we were
stranded on an island in the midst of the ocean. This storm has done
considerable damage."
"I should say so," remarked Joe, as the gentleman turned to some one
else and the boys started on a tour of the place to look over the
prospect. "I'll call it some damage to knock down both telephone and
telegraph wires at one fell swoop."
"That talk about our being just as badly off for communication with
the outside world as though we were on an island isn't quite correct,"
observed Herb. "That fellow seemed to forget all about trains."
"I suppose he meant quick communication," said Bob. "We could send a
message by wire in an hour or less, while it would take two or three
times that time to send the same message by rail."
"That's so," agreed Herb, staring up at the wires which had fallen
beneath their weight of snow. "I'd hate to _have_ to get a message
through for any reason just now. But look," he added, pointing to the
hotel. "Our aerials are still up anyway."
"I wonder who the fellow was who was so anxious to telegraph," said
Joe, after a few minutes. "He must think himself in bad luck."
Bob brought his gaze from the damaged wires and stared at the boys,
and at Jimmy who just then came puffing up.
"Say, I bet that was Mr. Salper," Bob said. "Don't you remember last
night that he said he must get a message through to his broker first
thing in the morning?"
"By Jove, the storm knocked it clear out of my head!" exclaimed Joe.
"Say, I feel sorry for him, all right."
"Wish we could help him some way," said Herb anxiously. "It would
never do to let that fellow Mohun and his pals get off with the filthy
lucre just when we thought we'd double-crossed them so nicely."
"I guess that's where Mr. Salper would agree with you," said Jimmy,
with a grin. "Especially since the filthy lucre belongs to him."
They walked on in silence for a few moments, chagrined at the thought
that the storm had played so into the hands of Mr. Salper's enemies.
They had learned from Mr. Salper the night before that Mohun of the
protruding teeth was not the kind of man to let a golden opportunity
pass. He would rush the "deal" through while Salper was out of town,
and, from the latter's impatience, they had gathered that the next few
hours would, in all probability, be the crucial time.
"Burr-r-r!" cried Jimmy suddenly, wrapping his arms as far as they
would go about his chubby body and shivering with the cold. "This
weather sure does make a fellow wish for a fur overcoat. The
thermometer must have gone down twenty degrees over night."
"Hear who's talking!" scoffed Herb. "With all that fat on your bones,
Doughnuts, you haven't a chance in the world of feeling cold."
"I suppose you know more than I do about it--not being me," retorted
Jimmy, scathingly. "I'd just like you to feel the way I do; that's
all."
"Well, it isn't what you might call unpleasantly hot," observed Bob.
"I must say I'm not sweltering, myself."
"Guess it isn't much colder than this up at the North Pole," agreed
Joe, as he turned his sweater collar up higher about his ears. "Might
as well rig up as an Eskimo and be done with it."
"Reminds me of that Norwegian, Amundsen," said Bob. "He sure intends
to discover the North Pole with all the fancy trimmings, this time."
"What do you mean?" asked Herb, with interest.
"Do you mean to say you haven't read about it?" demanded Jimmy,
indulgently. "Why, he's the fellow who is going to have his ship all
dressed up with wireless so that when he smashes his ship against the
North Pole he can let everybody know about it."
"It's a great idea, I call it," said Joe, enthusiastically. "Up to
this time, explorers haven't had any way of communicating with the
outside world, and so if they got in trouble they just had to get out
of it the best way they could or die in the attempt."
"While now," Bob took him up eagerly, "his wireless messages will be
picked up by hundreds of stations all over the world and in case of
need ships and teams of huskies and even aeroplanes can be rushed to
his rescue."
"Exploring de luxe," murmured Herb, with a comical look. "Pretty soon
there won't be any such thing as adventure because there won't be any
danger. We'll have radio to watch over us and keep us from all harm."
"It's all right for you to talk that way," said Jimmy. "But I bet if
you were one of these explorer chaps you'd be mighty glad to have
something watch over you and help you out of a tight fix."
"Yes, I guess those fellows need all the help they can get," agreed
Bob, soberly. "It isn't any joke to be away out there with hundreds of
miles of ice and water between them and civilization."
"They say even the sledges are to be equipped with radio," Joe broke
in. "So that they can keep in touch with the ship all the time and
through the medium of the powerful sending set aboard the boat the
ship itself can be kept in constant touch with the outside world."
"There are planes too, equipped with radio," added Bob. "And they say
each plane is outfitted with skids so that it can land safely on the
ice."
"I should think there would be danger in that," remarked Jimmy,
rubbing his hands vigorously to set the blood circulating again. "They
say the ice is awfully rough and bumpy and spattered with small hills
of ice. I should think a pilot would have a jolly time trying to make
a landing under those conditions."
"They intend to cut out the ice about the ship so as to make landing
possible," explained Bob. "And in the other places the skids help them
to make a sure landing. Say, wouldn't I like to make one of that
expedition!" he added, with enthusiasm.
"I wonder how long they expect this expedition to take," said Herb.
The idea of exploring the arctic with radio as a companion was a
fascinating one to him and at that moment he would have made one of
Amundsen's hardy crew, if such a thing were possible, with the
greatest joy.
"They expect it will take them five years, maybe six." It was Bob who
answered the question. "Their idea is to travel as far as possible
north before the ice gets thick. Then when the floes close in about
them they will drift with the ice over the pole--or, at least, that's
what they hope to do."
"What gets me," said Jimmy plaintively, "is how they are going to know
when they get to the pole anyway."
Herb made a pass at him which the fat boy nimbly avoided.
"Why, you poor fish," said the former witheringly, "you sure will be a
full-sized nut if you ever live to grow up. I suppose if you got to
the North Pole you'd expect to see a clothes pole with the clothes
line wrapped around it, ready for use."