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"Yes," was the reply.
"The untranslated code message?" Will asked.
"Yes, the untranslated code message."
"Glory be!" shouted George.
Frank looked at the boy in wonder for a moment, and then turned to Will with a question in his eyes.
"It's a long story," Will said in answer to the look, "and we'd better wait until we get to the cabin before entering upon it."
"Is Bert all right?" asked Frank.
"He got a little b.u.mp on the head somewhere," answered George, "but he'll come out of that all right, in time. I wasn't rejoicing because your chum got a poke on the belfry," George went on, whimsically, "I was shouting because the man who stole the code message didn't accomplish anything."
Frank, who was now standing by the fire collecting such bits of wardrobe as had been removed from his handbag, and also collecting the remains of the solitary lunch of which he had partaken that morning, again turned to Will with an interrogation point in each eye.
"Was the code message stolen?" he asked.
"It certainly was!" Will answered. "At least a large envelope with my name written across the front was found, with the end torn open, by your friend's side as he lay on the floor."
"That's the work of the man who followed us in!" declared Frank.
"We'll get this story all out of you pretty soon," laughed George.
"Suppose we go to the cabin before we uncork the entire yarn," suggested Frank. "To tell you the truth, boys, I didn't have half enough breakfast, and I'm about starved to death!"
"All right," Will replied. "There's nothing to keep us here that I know of. Did you see any one around your camp in the night?" he continued.
"What kind of a night did you pa.s.s?"
"A rotten, bad night!" was the answer. "I traveled a long way before I came to any wood suitable for building a campfire, and after I got one built it seemed to send out a bugle call to every wild animal within forty miles of the place. I guess I heard bears, and wolves, and wild dogs, and bull moose, and every other form, of wild life known to Alaska, at some time during the night!"
"And all the time," grinned George, "you were not more than a mile or so from our cabin. It's a wonder you didn't see our light."
"Well, I didn't," Frank replied. "But that's past and gone," he went on, in a moment, "and what I'm thinking about at the present time is this: Did the man who stole the code message from Bert force the boy to translate it for him? Tell me something more about the attack on the boy."
"We don't know anything about the attack," replied Will. "We found him lying on the floor of the cabin unconscious, and he has been unconscious ever since."
"Well," Frank went on, "Bert understands the code, for I taught it to him while we were translating the telegrams which came to me. Now, if this outlaw took the code before he struck the blow, the chances are that he ordered Bert to translate it for him. In that case, something which those opposed to you ought not to know is in the hands of your foes."
CHAPTER IV
THE LOST PLANS
"Well, there's a chance that the boy didn't translate the code message,"
George argued. "Anyway, we ought not to worry about that part of the case. Time enough to fret when real trouble comes."
By this time the boys had reached the cabin, after an exhausting journey over the moraine. They found Tommy and Sandy standing just inside the screened doorway, waiting impatiently for their arrival.
"Where did you find this one?" asked Tommy with a grin.
"Did he drop down out of the sky?" Sandy questioned.
Frank stood back for a moment, eyeing the two critically.
"I know you two kids," he said. "You're Tommy and Sandy. I've read about you in the Chicago newspapers, but I never expected to meet you out in Alaska. You seem to be getting plenty to eat, judging from your condition. And that brings back to my mind the condition of my own stomach."
"Boys," Will exclaimed, "this is Frank Disbrow. He started for our cabin in company with Bert Calking, the boy we found on the floor last night.
The two were bringing a code despatch to me, and they became separated early yesterday morning."
"A code message, was it?" Tommy asked.
"Yes, a code message," Will answered, "but the bearer of the despatch may, for all we know, have been forced to translate the message for the benefit of the man who robbed him of it."
In a moment Frank was by the side of his chum, gazing down into a white and haggard face. He turned away in a moment with a little shiver of anxiety. His face, too, was pale.
"I'm afraid that's a serious wound!" he said.
"If we only had a surgeon," Sandy suggested.
"I'll go get one," offered Tommy. "I can cut across to Katalla in no time and bring back the best doctor there is in the country."
"I'll go with you," offered Sandy.
"Now, wait a minute, boys!" Will said in a moment. "Let's think this matter over. If you go to Cordova instead of Katalla, you can communicate with Frank's father at Chicago, and so get in touch with Mr.
Horton. In this way, we can learn the contents of the code despatch.
There surely was some strong reason for sending it, and it seems as if we ought to know its contents."
"That's a good idea, too," exclaimed Tommy. "We'll go to Katalla, and perhaps we can find a boat about ready to sail for Cordova. In that case we ought to get up to the wireless station and back in a couple of days.
The distance isn't great, but it's rough traveling."
"I wish we could take Bert with us," suggested Frank.
"Are you thinking of going?" asked Will.
"Yes," was the reply, "if I could take Bert out."
"Bert is in no condition to be taken out," Will answered, "and even if he were it would take so long to make the journey that we could get a surgeon out here before we could land him in a hospital."
"I think," Frank said, "that I ought to go with the boy who is sent out after a surgeon. It is not certain that father will communicate by wireless save to his son. Anyway, I can find out a great deal more by talking with him than could any one else."
"I guess that's right!" Will replied.
"Then I'll go with him!" Tommy shouted. "I want to see what's going on in the world of fashion, anyway!"