Thorough inspection of car numbers convinced them that No. 564963 C.P.R. had not arrived.

“Oh, well!  Perhaps to-morrow she’ll be in.  Then we’ll see what we see,” yawned Bruce, as he turned back toward the roughly-built log shack where work awaited them.

“What’s that?” Bruce, who was in the lead, stopped before the trunk of a scraggly spruce tree.  On its barkless trunk a sheet of white paper had been tacked.  The two boys read it eagerly: 

Notice!

To Trappers, Hunters, Campers
and Prospectors.

$500
Reward
Will be paid

To any person locating anywhere
within the bounds of the
Canadian Northlands at any point
North of 55° North, a wireless station,
operated without license or
permit.

The notice, signed by the provincial authorities, was enough to quicken their keen minds.

“What do you suppose they want to know that for?” asked Barney.  “The war’s over.”

“Perhaps further intrigue by our former enemy.  Perhaps smugglers.  Perhaps—­well, do your own perhapsing.  But say!” Bruce exclaimed, “wouldn’t it be great to take packs, rifles and mosquito-bar netting and go hunting that fellow in that Northern wilderness?”

“Great sport, all right,” grinned Barney.  “But you’d have about as much chance of finding him as you would of locating German U boat M. 71 by walking the bottom of the Atlantic.”

“That’s true, all right,” said Bruce thoughtfully.  “But just think of that wilderness!  Lakes no white man has seen; rivers no canoe has traveled; mountain tops no human ever looked from!  Say!  I’ve lived in Canada all my life and up to now I’ve been content to let that wilderness just be wild.  But the war came and I guess it shook me out of myself.  Now that wilderness calls to me, and, the first chance that offers, I’m going to turn explorer.  The wireless station offers an excuse, don’t you see?”

Barney grinned.  He was a hard-headed, practical Yankee boy; the kind who count the cost and appraise the possible results.

“If you are talking of hunting, fishing, and a general good time in the woods, then I’m with you; but if you are talking of a search for that wireless, then, I say, give me some speedier way of travel than tramping.  Give me—­” he hesitated, then he blurted out:  “Give me an airplane.”

The boys stared at one another as if they had discovered a state secret.  Then Bruce voiced their thoughts: 

“Do you suppose this Major What-you-may-call-him is bringing up his plane for some commission like that?”

“I don’t know,” said Barney.  “But if he is,” he said the words slowly, “if he is, then all I’ve got to say is, that it’s mighty important; something affecting the government.”

“I believe you’re right about that,” said Bruce, “but what it is I haven’t the least shadow of a notion.  And what complicates it still more is, the Major comes from down in the States.”