CHAPTER XXVI.
AN UNWELCOME COMRADE.
"He's in a bad way, that's certain," was Dick's comment, as he surveyed the prostrate form. Even though Jasper Grinder was an enemy, he could not help but feel sorry for the man.
"We must get him up to our shelter as soon as possible," replied John Barrow. "It is easy to see he is half frozen—and maybe starved."
"Shall we carry him?"
"We'll have to; there is no other way."
Slinging their guns across their backs, they raised up the form of the unconscious man. He was a dead weight, and to carry him through that deep snow was no light task. Less than half the distance to the shelter was covered when Dick called a halt.
"I'll have to rest up!" he gasped. "He weighs a ton."
But in a few minutes he resumed the journey, and now they did not stop with their load until the shelter was reached. Tom and Sam were watching for them.
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