"The further north we go the more
careful we must be, or we may not get back in safety. I think that
exploring expedition was rather a foolhardy undertaking--at this season
of the year."

"I believe I know what prompted my father to undertake it," said Dave.
"It was the spirit of adventure. My Uncle Dunston says my father loves
an adventure of any kind."

"Do you take after him?" asked the Englishman, with a twinkle in his
eyes.

"I think I must--otherwise I shouldn't be here," and Dave smiled
broadly.

The sleigh driver said that if they made good time during the afternoon
they would reach the village of Bojowak by five or six o'clock. Here he
was certain they would hear further of the exploring party.

"Then let us hurry all we can," said Dave. "If it is too much of a pull
for the horses, I, for one, am willing to walk part of the way."

"So am I," added the senator's son, and the Englishman also agreed to
this, although he declared that trudging in the deep snow generally
winded him greatly.

They were now approaching a dangerous part of the road, which ran around
the western slope of two fair-sized mountains. They progressed with
care, and frequently the driver would go in advance, to make sure that
the footing was good.

"If only the fellows of Oak Hall could see us now!" declared Dave.
"Wonder what they would say?"

"I must take another snapshot or two," answered Roger.

He had brought a folding pocket camera with him and had already taken
several rolls of pictures. None of the films had been developed, so he
could not as yet tell how the snapshots would turn out. Now he took a
picture of Dave knee-deep in snow, with the turnout and the others in
the background.

"I ought to have a picture of that fight with the wolves," said Roger,
when he put his camera away. "When we tell about it at the Hall some of
the fellows will be sure to say it's a fish-story."

"Nat Poole won't believe it for one, Roger; and I don't think Merwell
will believe it either."

At the mention of Merwell's name Dave's face clouded for an instant.

"I wish Merwell would leave Oak Hall, Roger," he said. "Somehow, I like
that chap less than I do Nat Poole or anybody else--even Jasniff."

"So do I. Poole is a fool, and Jasniff is a hot-headed scamp, but this
Merwell----" The senator's son could not finish.

"I believe Merwell has the making of a thoroughly bad fellow in him,"
finished Dave. "I don't see how Doctor Clay allowe