Chapter XXIII: A Joyous Reunion

A shot!

That meant that a human finger had touched the trigger. Men were at hand! Trappers, hunters--it mattered not who they were, they were men! The starving wanderers were no longer alone in this vast icy wilderness.

Slim Tyler and Dick Mylert looked at each other in wild rapture. Then they broke into as rapid a run as their weakened state permitted.

Staggering, but still running, they rounded an icy hummock and came into view of a camp.

Half a dozen figures were in sight, most of them busily engaged in various tasks.

Nearest to the newcomers was a man working at a plane. He looked up at the sound of running feet and jumped up with a startled exclamation when he saw the staggering figures coming toward him.

Slim Tyler's heart leaped as though it would leave his body.

The man was Dave Boyd!

"Dave! Dave!" shrieked Slim in wild delight, almost falling in his effort to reach him.

Dave Boyd rushed forward and caught the youth in his arms.

"By the great horn spoon!" yelled the older aviator in amazement, hardly able to believe his eyes. "Slim! Slim Tyler! How did you get here? Did you drop from the skies?"

"Just that," replied Slim, smiling weakly as Dave Boyd folded him in a bear's embrace. "Plane went flooey and I dropped. So did my friend here, Dick Mylert. Dick, this is Dave Boyd."

The men exchanged handclasps. By this time all the members of the camp had come running and surrounded the newcomers with expressions of wonder and welcome. There were Biff Donovan, for once genial and smiling, Sardine Brown, and the scientists, Franz, Burke, Lewis, Thompson and another upon whom Slim looked with keen interest, Cameron Flood.

Exclamations and questions tumbled over one another until Boyd intervened.

"Why, you're just a rack of bones, Slim!" he exclaimed.

"Not much wonder," put in Dick. "He hasn't had anything to eat for two days. Neither have I."

"What?" yelled Dave. "Lay off that questioning, you fellows. Not another word till we fill these boys up. Break out some of that canned soup, Biff. Sardine, get some coffee going. Starved, are you? You poor fellows! But we'll soon fix that."

He led Slim and Dick to a shack that the party had constructed and snuggled them under a pile of blankets. Then, when the soup and coffee were ready, he fed them with his own hands, taking care that they got no more than was good for them in their present weakened condition.

"Now get to sleep," he ordered them. "No, not a word," he commanded, as Slim was about to speak. "I'm burning up with curiosity as to how and why you're here, but you get your sleep first."

"But I must speak," persisted Slim. "It's Jerry----"

"What about Jerry?" asked Dave Boyd quickly.

"He was with us," replied Slim. "He was guiding the plane when it crashed. He may be wandering around as we were. I don't know."

Dave Boyd's face paled. He was very fond of Jerry Marbury, who had accompanied him on many of his flights.

"Jerry!" he exclaimed. "Poor lad! We'll start a hunt for him at once, every man jack of us. And we won't let up till we find him alive--or find him dead. Trust us now and go to sleep."

Slim and Dick could not have disobeyed, if they had tried. Through the rest of the afternoon and all that night they were wrapped in the sleep of utter exhaustion.

Their youth and vitality stood them in good stead, and the next morning they woke up enormously refreshed and almost their usual selves.

A glance at Dave Boyd's grave face told Slim without asking that the quest for Jerry Marbury had been in vain.

"No," said Dave. "We went in different directions, looking for him and firing off guns at intervals to guide him to where we were. At night we shot off Very pistols and sent up rockets in hope that he'd see the lights. With no success so far. We'll go out again to-day as soon as we've had breakfast."

Slim sighed, but made no comment.

"Now," said Dave, as they sat down at the rude table a little later, "tell us what we all want to hear, Slim. What brought you to Greenland?"

"You," replied Slim simply.

"What?"

"You," repeated Slim. "We got worried when your messages ceased. We got more worried when the report came that trappers had seen a plane in trouble forced down in the mountains. So we raised funds, got a plane, and started out to look for you."

"We," said Dave dazedly. "Whom do you mean by 'we'?"

"Jerry and I," replied Slim. "Dick came along to get stuff for his newspaper."

Dave Boyd was not an emotional man, but tears started to his eyes.

"Let me get this straight," he said huskily. "You mean that you and Jerry of your own volition got up this expedition and risked your lives just to rescue me, if you should find me in trouble?"

"Why not?" replied Slim. "You're the best friend I have in the world."

Dave Boyd thrust his big hand across the table.

"Shake, Slim! Shake!" he said, as he grasped the lad's hand. "You're there, Slim! You're all there!"

A murmur of assent rose from all at the table, as, with eyes full of admiration, they looked at Slim Tyler.

"You were right in thinking we were in trouble," resumed Dave Boyd, when he had released Slim's hand. "It's a wonder that we're not all dead. We got caught in a frightful blizzard that forced us down. By sheer luck we were able to make a landing----"

"Luck, nothing!" interrupted Biff Donovan from the other end of the table. "It was because you were handling the controls. No other aviator in the world could have made that landing."

"Nonsense!" disclaimed Boyd. "You could have done it just as well. As it was, we escaped with our lives. But the radio was smashed and the plane pretty badly cracked up. Biff and Sardine and I have been pretty busy since patching it up. Our scientists here haven't done so badly. They've got all kinds of information about the meteorology of Greenland, the precipitation, the mountain ranges, and goodness knows what else."

"You're right in that," put in Cameron Flood, and the other scientists nodded their heads. "It's been a fruitful opportunity, far surpassing our expectations."

Slim Tyler studied the speaker closely. What he saw pleased him.

Cameron Flood was a tall, handsome young man of perhaps twenty-eight, frank and open in expression, with a humorous glint in his eyes. He had a straight, strong nose and a jaw that bespoke determination. Slim judged that he would be a valuable ally in the tracking down of Nat Shaley.

"Now," said Boyd, as he shoved back his chair, "we're off to look for Jerry. Everything around here has got to stop until we find him. We'll divide into parties and keep in touch with each other by frequent rifle shots. Flood, suppose you go with Slim and Dick. You know this district well by this time."

Armed with rifles, the groups scattered in different directions.

Slim Tyler and his companions had been traveling about an hour when Slim grabbed an arm each of Dick and Flood and yanked his astonished comrades down behind an ice hummock.

"What's up?" demanded Dick, struggling to rise.

"S-sh!" warned Slim. "Look!"

Dick and Flood peered cautiously around the corner of the hummock.

A huge polar bear was lumbering toward them!