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breath. “What happened?” he demanded.
    Upon hearing of the adventure, Chet shuddered at his friends’ narrow escape. “I’d rather be surrounded by thieves than tangle with one of those beasts!”
    â€œLet’s stop for lunch now,” Caribou suggested.
    â€œThat’s a good idea,” Frank agreed. “Running away from bears makes me hungry.”
    The trekkers dug into their rucksacks and soon were enjoying canned-meat sandwiches and tomato juice. Then, keeping a sharp lookout for more bears, the group continued their search around the lake.
    â€œNo signs of any habitation around here,” Joe observed to his brother.
    At that moment Chet, who was a little distance ahead, beckoned to the others. When they reached him, he pointed out broad imprints in the sandy beach.
    â€œLooks as if heavy objects were dragged across,” Frank noted.
    â€œThis is where the other drums were pulled out of the water!” Joe cried out.
    â€œLook at this!” Frank stooped to pick up a short metal object. “A wrench,” he said, turning it over in his hand. “ ‘Yellowknife Lodge’ has been stenciled onto the handle.” He handed the tool to Caribou.
    â€œThe lodge is on north shore of Great Slave Lake,” Caribou said. “Long distance away. This may belong to hunters stopping there.”
    Frank had another theory. “Or maybe the wrench was dropped by the man called Keating who brought the fuel drums here!”
    â€œIf so, he must be one of the gang that’s been robbing lodges in that area,” Joe deduced. “Wonder if Biff, Tony, and Sam are having any luck on the case.”
    â€œWe’ll hang onto this wrench for evidence,” Frank said, and put the tool in his pocket.
    â€œS-s-sh!” Caribou broke in, holding up his hand and cocking his head to one side, listening.
    â€œA plane,” Joe whispered as the droning noise became louder. “We’ve been spotted!”
    Everyone stood tensely, staring at the small float plane which came into sight. Who was aboard—the thieves? The plane touched its pontoons onto the lake surface and taxied over to the group on shore.
    â€œLook!” Chet exclaimed. “What’s that big bright marking on the door?”
    â€œBon tonnerre!” Caribou burst out. “They are not robbers! The crest on the door is for Royal Canadian Mounted Police!”
    â€œThe Mounties!” Chet smiled in relief as the craft ran up onto the beach.
    The engine was cut. A thin, uniformed man opened the cockpit door and jumped to the ground.
    â€œI’m looking for Frank and Joe Hardy,” the Mountie said in a serious tone of voice.

CHAPTER X
    An Amazing Suspect
    â€œI’M Frank Hardy, and this is my brother, Joe,” Frank told the Mountie. “Why do you want us?”
    â€œAnd how did you locate us?” Chet queried.
    The pilot pulled out his wallet and showed his identification card. “I’m Corporal Fergus of the Fort Smith station,” he said. “I have an urgent message for you, so I flew downriver. From two thousand feet up I spotted you walking along the beach.”
    â€œHas anything happened to our family?” Joe asked the officer quickly.
    â€œNo. The message concerns the man impersonating your father,” Corporal Fergus replied. “The Edmonton police have been notified that someone else called to see Mr. Baker-Jones at the hospital. It’s thought he may be an accomplice of the impostor because Mr. Baker-Jones doesn’t know anyone around here.”
    Frank queried, “Do the police know his identity?”
    â€œThey have investigated the Edmonton hotels,” said the officer, “and learned that a man of his description is registered in one as ‘J. C. Phillips.’ Right now they have a stake-out at the hotel and plan to follow the man as soon as he’s spotted.”
    â€œTwo of us should be