img Riddle of the Storm / A Mystery Story for Boys  /  Chapter 5 RACING THE STORM | 17.86%
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Chapter 5 RACING THE STORM

Word Count: 1584    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

ing of the wind that foretold an approaching storm, Curlie Carson, who had at one time played so important a part in their lives and might, for all they knew, ye

louds that was a storm bearing down upon the land of eternal ice, he ha

ore in the fusilage of his plane the samples of pitchblende that might mean a bright future for his old p

rm appeared to reach out a shrouded arm to grasp him, as i

articles of sleet rattled like

ed the plane upward; but all in

nty-five, a hundred and forty miles an hour he sped on. But the storm rode on his tail. It set his struts singing. I

It will last for hours. No one could land safely

gone right on through the storm and, coming out into the uncertain light of waning day, had she landed safely on the frozen surface of some lake or had she cracked up? If she had cracke

orld. What would come of all this? Would the thief be discovered? Would the swift and sure punishment that belongs to this northland be meted out to hi

the strain of battle, the next relieved b

his friends seated by their fire, but succeeded only in br

now followed him into the night. It was a monster spider weaving a web as great as the universe itself and at the sam

ld himself. "All sto

ights through. He could not last. His supply of gas must becom

follow them?

thought of Jerry. He turned to speak to him. T

ng. The cold might have overcome him. He p

ed. "We're in one

ed the eye and once more

or you, and confidence aplenty. If he beli

could he feel about it when Jerry, a veteran of the f

is still with us. I must not grow ov

ay phantom of the air outrides the storm, and if it is my lot to

uare of white cloth with the name

person be? And

w taken the form of a gray ghost of the night. Slowl

th," he told himself as grim determ

re him clouded. The gray ghost's mantle was hiding him from earth and sky

ow," he thought to

host's mantle slipped away, leaving before him a gorge

" Then realizing how strange that remark wou

route again and again, that which lies beneath him becomes familiar. There is the river. Here it forms as an S. There it winds like a serpent. Here it is thickly bordered by trees, there lined only by low-growing willows. There are the lakes. Here four of them form the eyes, nose and mouth of a human face.

eled the northern route long, but certain s

ted aloud. "Jerr

" Jerry agre

e circles of willows that border Lake Athabaska. And away over yonder i

rry straightened

went on. "Pork chops with fried potatoes a

y, son. Ab

epy head, you'll work th

Can't be too sure about the bl

d at Fort Chipewyan, Curlie's eyes strayed toward the golden moon as a voice seemed to

tatoes while Sam Kusik, the Russian Jew trader, and Tommy Wooden, the postmaster of this far-flung outpost, plied them with ques

p? Who knows? I doubt it. No such luck. An honest man meets misfortune many times; a rogue but once, and

wn a draught of hot coffee. "

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