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diff --git a/old/63877-8.txt b/old/63877-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3a7e42b..0000000 --- a/old/63877-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6958 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Never Fire First, by James French Dorrance - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Never Fire First - A Canadian Northwest Mounted Story - -Author: James French Dorrance - -Illustrator: Charles Durant - -Release Date: November 24, 2020 [EBook #63877] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEVER FIRE FIRST *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - - - - -[Illustration: Cover art] - - - -[Frontispiece: Constable La Marr wondered if the slogan of the -Mounted applied in case one had to deal with an insane native.] - - - - NEVER FIRE FIRST - - _A Canadian Northwest Mounted Story_ - - - BY - - JAMES FRENCH DORRANCE - - CO-AUTHOR OF "GET YOUR MAN," - "GLORY RIDES THE RANGE" - - - _Frontispiece by_ - CHARLES DURANT - - - - NEW YORK - THE MACAULAY COMPANY - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1924, - BY THE MACAULAY COMPANY - - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - - - To - JOHN WOODS DORRANCE - - FATHER AND FRIEND - - - - - CONTENTS - - CHAPTER - - I Chance of Morpheus - II The Eskimo Way - III Complication Astounding - IV Best of Bad Business - V Silver and Black - VI Regard for the Law - VII Wanted--An Eskimo Fox - VIII The Hero Fugitive - IX The Skein Tangles - X Hard Knuckles - XI The Scarlet Special - XII Living Targets - XIII His Montreal Promise - XIV A Double-Barreled Case - XV Under Suspicion - XVI The "Widdy" in Gray - XVII Richer than Gold - XVIII A Cryptic Messenger - XIX Into the Night - XX Morning's Maze - XXI The Closed Creek - XXII Figure of Speech - XXIII When Morning Came - XXIV Tent-Told Tales - XXV Clutch of the Breed - XXVI Boot and Booty - XXVII Bright with Promise - - - - -NEVER FIRE FIRST - - - -CHAPTER I - -CHANCE OF MORPHEUS - -From the "dig-in" of the snow-bank where he had spent the blizzard -night in comparative comfort, Constable La Marr of the Royal Mounted -looked out upon a full-grown day. The storm that had driven him to -shelter had passed, or at least was taking a rest. For once he had -overslept and where days, even in winter's youth, are but seven hours -long, the fault caused him chagrin. - -That a "Mountie" in close pursuit of a murder suspect should have -made such a slip was disconcerting even to one so young as La Marr. -He found little consolation in the fact that when he had enlisted in -the Force he had not dreamed of an Arctic assignment, but had -expected one of those gayly uniformed details in Montreal or Quebec. - -His concern, if the news ever leaked out, was of the reaction upon -his immediate superior, Staff-Sergeant Russell Seymour. But small -chance of that leakage unless he himself weakened--or -strengthened--and tested the adage that confession is good for the -soul. Seymour, a grimly handsome wolf of the North in command of the -detachment post at Armistice, was now two months absent on an irksome -detail of snow patrol, one that should have fallen to the rookie -constable, except for his inexperience. - -La Marr stamped out of the snow-hole that had sheltered him and -restored circulation by vigorous gymnastics. Light as was his trail -equipment, being without sled or dogs, he had not suffered, having -learned rapidly the first protective measures of the Arctic "cop." - -He was about to make a belated breakfast from his emergency pack when -his glance chanced toward the north and focused upon a furred figure -headed down the snow ruff on a course that would bring him within -easy reach. - -"Aye, not so bad!" he congratulated audibly. "I get me man by -sleeping on his trail!" - -He chuckled as he watched the snow-shoed Eskimo stumble directly -toward the trap that was set for him by chance of Morpheus. - -Yet the young constable took no chances. - -A murder had been committed two days before at Armistice, almost -within the shadow of the police post. The crime seemed a -particularly atrocious one to him from the fact that a white man, a -trader's clerk, had been the victim. Any Eskimo who would go to such -lengths was either desperate or insane. La Marr felt called upon to -be very much on guard as he waited within the shelter of the -snow-trap. - -He had not a doubt that the native approaching was his quarry, any -more than he had of that quarry's guilt. He wondered if the slogan -of the Mounted applied in case one had to deal with an insane native. -It would be easy--and providentially safe--to wing the oncomer, -undoubtedly unaware of the nearness of a Nemesis. - -But the training at the Regina school of police that a "Mountie" -never fires first is strict and impressive. Constable La Marr could -not take a pot shot even with the intent only to wound the flounderer. - -Next moment surprise caught him--surprise that Avic, the red-handed -culprit, was fighting his way back to camp. But wait, he'd have to -revise that thought for this particular murder had been done in a -peculiar native fashion that shed no blood. Anyhow, why should one -so obviously guilty of killing a white man in a bronze man's country -be headed toward the police post from which he had made a clean -get-away? - -No answer came to La Marr. He merely waited. - -The Eskimo floundered on. - -The constable's concealment was neat enough in a country where all is -white. It was better even than bush or shrub, for they were so rare -as to be open to suspicion. At just the right second he lunged -forward and took the native entirely by surprise. The two went over -in a flurry of snow. - -For a moment the Eskimo struggled fiercely, possibly thinking that -his fur-clad assailant was an Arctic wolf. But his resistance ceased -on recognizing he was in human grip. - -La Marr yanked his captive to his feet and searched for weapons, -finding none. Then he remembered the rules of the Ottawa "red book" -and pronounced the statutory warning. - -"Arrest you, Avic, in the name of the king; warn you that anything -you say may be used against you. D'ye understand?" - -As he asked this last, which is not a part of the official warning, -he realized that Avic did not. - -"Barking sun-dogs, why didn't the good Lord provide one language for -everybody?" he complained. "Anyway, there ain't much chance of my -understanding anything you may say against yourself. I'll tell it -all over to you when I get you to the post. Now we'll mush!" - -"Ugh--yes," grunted the Eskimo, seemingly undisturbed. - -The young constable was puzzled by the prisoner's demeanor. He -stared at the man, whose stolid expression was heightened by thick -lips and high cheek-bones. Perhaps the native did not know he was in -the hands of the police and on his way to pay for the dreadful crime. - -Raising his _parkee_, La Marr disclosed the scarlet tunic which he -wore underneath. It was the color of authority in the far North; no -Eskimo who ever had seen it before could doubt it. - -There was no gleam of intelligence in the dark eyes that stared from -behind narrow, reddened lids. There dawned upon the constable a -possibility. The Eskimo was snow blind under the curse of the -Northland winter which falls alike to native and outlander, at times. -That would explain his back-tracking. Rather than wander in circles -over the white blanketed tundra until a miserable death came to his -rescue, he was hurrying back, while a glimmer of sight yet remained, -to take his chances with the mystery called "Law." - -"Not a bad choice," thought La Marr as he stepped out ahead to break -the trail that the night's blizzard had covered. - -After locking his prisoner in the tiny guard room, a part of the -one-story frame structure that sheltered the small detachment, the -constable started for the post of the Arctic Trading Company a few -hundred yards away. He was young, La Marr, and pleased with himself -over his first capture of importance. He anticipated satisfaction in -discussing the arrest with Harry Karmack, the only other white man at -Armistice now that Oliver O'Malley had passed out. - -But he did not get across the yard. - -The report of a rifle from down the frozen river, which flowed north, -halted him. He saw a dog team limping in over the crust, -unmistakably the detachment's own bunch of malamutes. The man at the -gee-pole could be none other than Sergeant Seymour, returned at last -from the long Arctic patrol. - -Here was a vastly more important auditor for his triumph. He sprang -forward to offer salute and greetings and to help with the malamutes, -for an Eskimo dog team always arrives with a flourish that is -exciting and troublesome. - -Once the animals were off to their kennels and before Seymour fairly -had caught his breath from the last spurt into camp, the young -constable was blurting out the details of Oliver O'Malley's untimely -end. - -"But I've captured the murderer!" La Marr exclaimed in triumph. -"I've got Avic, the Eskimo, hard and fast in the guard room. Come -and see." - -With interest the sergeant followed the lead of the one and only man -in his command. - -The native had been squatted on the floor with his back against the -wall near a stove, the sides of which glowed like a red apple. On -their entry, he rose muttering in gutturals that meant nothing to the -constable. Seymour gave one glance of recognition, then turned. - -"You've got a murderer, sure enough, La Marr," he said with that -slowness of speech so seldom accelerated as to be an outstanding -characteristic. "But his name's not Avic and by no possibility could -he have had anything to do with the killing of O'Malley." - -"Then who the hell----," the constable began. - -"This is Olespe of the Lady Franklin band. For three weeks he's been -my prisoner. On the sled out there are the remains of the wife he -killed in an attack of seal-fed jealousy." - -The chagrin of Constable La Marr was written in gloom across a face -so lately aglow. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE ESKIMO WAY - -Grim, indeed, had been Sergeant Seymour's sledded return to his -detachment. For more than two hundred miles across the frozen tundra -he had driven his ghastly load--the murdered woman wrapped in deer -skins after the native custom, sewed up in a tarp and lashed to a -_komatik_, the Labrador sled that gives such excellent service on -cross-country runs. All this, that the inquest which the Dominion -requires, regardless of isolation, might be held in form and the case -against the uxoricide assured. - -And out ahead, unarmed, and under "open" arrest, had mushed the -murderer himself, breaking trail toward his own doom. Often in the -whirling snow, Olespe had been beyond his captor's sight. But never -had he wavered from the most feasible course to Armistice; always had -he been busily making camp when the dogs and their official driver -caught up at the appointed night-stop. No white man could have been -entrusted with such "fatigue duty" under like circumstances. Three -weeks of such opportunity for remorse must have been too much. - -But Seymour was not thinking now of this recent ordeal. - -The case of Olespe, except for the formalities of coroner's inquest, -commitment and trial was settled. The plight of his unhappy -constable held the pity of the sergeant, always considerate. - -"I'm not blaming you, Charley," he assured. "Until you've been up -here a few years, all Eskimos look right much alike." - -"Can't I start after the real Avic at once," pleaded the constable. -"I'll make no second mistake." - -La Marr was as eager as a hound held in leash after its nose has -rubbed the scent. But he could not, just then, bring himself to -confess his over-sleeping. - -Seymour did not answer at once, but set about taking off his heavy -trail clothes and getting into the uniform of command. He was a -large built man, but lean of the last ounce of superfluous flesh -owing to the long patrols that he never shirked. - -The scarlet tunic became him. Across the breast of it showed lines -of vari-colored ribbons, for his service in France had been as -valorous as vigorous. He had gone into the war from his Yukon post -and, almost directly after the armistice, back into the Northwest -Territories to establish one of the new stations of the Mounted in -the Eskimo country. - -The green constable chafed under the silence, but he did not make the -mistake of thinking it due to slow thinking. With Seymour many had -erred in that direction to their sorrow. The sergeant certainly was -slow in speech, but when he spoke he said something. He might seem -tardy in action, but once started he was as active as a polar bear -after a seal. - -"No hurry about taking after this Avic," he said at last. "Likely -he'll not travel far this double-thermometer weather." The reference -was to a jocular fable of the region that to get the temperature one -had to hitch two thermometers together. "At worst he can't get clear -away--no one ever does, except when old man Death catches him first. -We'll hold our inquest, then I'll issue a warrant." - -"And detail me to serve it?" La Marr's question had that breathless -interrogation point of secret self-accusation. - -To Seymour's thin lips came that whimsical smile which transformed -his whole expression, despite its blanket of beard. To a student of -expression, this would have shown the tenderness of a woman to be -concealed beneath the life-hardened mask. His grimness melted like -snow beneath the caress of a Chinook wind; yet warning remained that -this gentleness was not open to imposition. - -"Right-o, Charlie," he promised. "I've made mistakes in my day and -been thankful for the chance to rectify them. You're nominated to -bring in whoever is named in the warrant after the inquest. Let's -go." - -He put on a pea-jacket, on the sleeves of which the stripes of his -rank stood out in deep yellow. On a thatch of towsled, brownish hair -he settled the fur cap proscribed in the regulations for winter wear. - -Outside they first attended the disposal of the sled. Without -telling the post's native hostler the grim nature of their load, they -saw it placed in a shed which had the temperature of a morgue. - -Adjoining the police buildings on the south was the establishment of -the Arctic Trading Company, Ltd. This was a low but substantially -built structure of timber and stone, also facing the frozen river. -The "Mounties" entered the storm door which gave upon the factor's -quarters, with the intention of divorcing Harry Karmack from his book -and pipe long enough to accompany them to the scene of the local -crime. - -"Dear eyes, but it's glad to see you home again, Serg.," was the -trader's greeting, as he arose from his chair beside an "airtight -burner" and extended his hand for a hearty grip. "Things have come -to a pretty pass in the territories when the 'Skims get to biting the -hands that are feeding them." - -Seymour met this comment with a grave nod. Like others of the Force -on Arctic detail, he was surprised at what approached an epidemic of -murderous violence among their Eskimo charges, in general a kindly -and docile people. - -A prepossessing individual was Harry Karmack, not at all the typical -trader. He was dark, from a strain of French blood in his Canadian -make-up, with laughing eyes and a handsome mouth. As he seldom took -the winter trail, he shaved daily "so as not to let the howling North -get the better of me," as he liked to put it. His smooth cheeks -contrasted sharply with the bearded ones of the officers, their -growth cultivated for protection on the snow patrols. Generally -Karmack wore tweeds over his powerful frame and a bright tie beneath -the collar of his flannel shirt. At that, he was a seasoned -sour-dough and a sharp trader, respected and feared by the natives. - -"What do you think's got into the blood of the breed all of a -sudden?" he asked. - -"We've handed them too many rifles, for one thing," offered Seymour -slowly. "But don't you worry, the Mounted will get the deluded -creatures in hand. Will you come with us for a look at the O'Malley -scene?" - -Karmack reached for his furs. - -"If you don't," he remarked, a severe note in his voice, "you scarlet -soldiers won't be any safer than us traders. When I think of young -O'Malley, one of the finest chaps I ever knew, struck down here at a -police post----" - -A catch in his voice stopped him. Taking a battery lantern from a -cupboard beside the doorway, he signified he was ready for the said -inspection. - -La Marr led the way to the scene of the crime--a stone hut half -buried in the snow. At the door he broke the R.C.M.P. seal which he -placed there before setting out on his futile pursuit of the suspect. - -"Nothing was disturbed, sir," said the constable in a hushed voice. -"Everything is as Karmack and I found it when we came to investigate -why O'Malley did not return to the store." - -They stepped out of the gathering dusk into a windowless room. The -roof was so low as to cause the shortest of them to stoop. The -trader pushed the button on his lantern and raised it. - -Across the cave-like room, which was bare of furniture after the -Eskimo fashion, Seymour stared. There, in a sitting posture on a -sleeping bench, was all that was mortal of the assistant factor. - -In life, O'Malley had been a handsome youth of pronounced Irish type. -Sudden death had wrought so few changes that the sergeant had -difficulty in believing that he looked on other than a sleeping -fellow human. A dankness, as of a tomb, served to convince him. - -The victim's head rested against the back wall of the hut; his -crossed feet upon a deerskin floor covering. Clutched in one hand -was a black fox pelt. Upon the sleeping bench beside him lay one of -silver. Both looked to be unusually fine skins. Presumably, some -dispute over the price of the prizes was the motive of the crime. - -Karmack stepped closer with the light; indicated by gesture a knotted -line of seal skin around the victim's throat, the end dangling down -over his _parkee_. - -"The Eskimo way!" muttered the trader brokenly. - -The shudder that passed through Seymour's wiry frame was not observed -by the companions of the inspection. No more was it caused by the -untimely fate of Oliver O'Malley. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -COMPLICATION ASTOUNDING - -As is the silken kerchief to the Latin garroter, so is the Ugiuk-line -to the Eskimo bent upon strangulation. Strong reason had Sergeant -Seymour of the Mounted to realize the possibilities in the clutch of -the stout cord made from the skin of a bearded seal. - -Although he had made no mention of the fact in Karmack's quarters, -when the trader pronounced warning that the out-of-hand Eskimos soon -would be clutching for the throats of the wearers of the scarlet, -already had they clutched at his. The vivid memory of his narrow -escape had brought his involuntary shudder at sight of the sinister -drape about O'Malley's throat. - -On the farthest-North night of his last patrol, he had elected to -sleep in a deserted igloo on the skirts of a village rather than -suffer the stifle of an occupied one. After midnight he had awakened -from a strangling sensation to find himself in the hands of two -stalwart assailants. The knot of a similar seal-hide line was -gripping his throat. He had thrown off the pair only by an effort so -supreme as to leave him too weak to follow them through the snow -tunnel into the storm. Probably he never would know their identity -or be able more than to guess at their motive as one of fancied -revenge. - -Seymour did not speak of this now as they stood in the hut of -tragedy. No more did he mention the news that slowly was filtering -through the North that Corporal Doak, Three River detachment of the -Royal Mounted, and Factor Bender of the Hudson's Bay company post had -been slain in a brutal and treacherous manner. To spread alarm was -no part of his policy. But over at the post was the Ugiuk-line that -had been used on him and in his mind was a vivid idea of its practice -in Eskimo hands. - -From these--the fearsome souvenir and the shuddering memory--he -suspected that the O'Malley case was not as open-and-shut as it -seemed. For him, mystery stalked the crime, one that would not be -solved by the apprehension of Avic, the Eskimo. - -Silently, he completed his immediate investigation of the crime. Two -points stood out to confirm the suspicion born of his intimate -knowledge of the Eskimo garroting methods. Upon the _corpus delicti_ -there was absolutely no mark except the sinister purple rim about the -throat and a blood spot beneath the skin where the knot in the seal -line had taken strangle hold. In the hut there was no sign of a -struggle such as he had put forth to save himself in the igloo, not a -dent in the earthen floor or a skin rug out of place. Yet, as he -well knew, O'Malley was a powerful youth and of fighting stock! - -"Let's have the facts--such as you know." The sergeant turned -suddenly to Karmack. - -"Dear eyes, I should say you shall have them--every one," returned -the trader eagerly. - -Despite certain mannerisms and his unusual--for the -outlands--fastidiousness of dress, Karmack was straightforward and -exceedingly matter of fact. - -Word from native sources, it seemed, had reached the trading -company's store several days before that Avic was in from his trap -line with fox pelts "worth a fortune," according to Eskimo standards. -He had borrowed this hut in which they now stood in the outskirts of -the town from a relative and had sent the native for the makings of a -"party," or _potlatch_. The hunter himself had not appeared in camp -or sent any direct word to Karmack that he had fox skins for sale. -He had no debit on the books of the Arctic company, so the reasonable -supposition of his aloofness was that he meant to drive a hard -bargain. - -Skilled in barter with the natives, Karmack said he had countered by -betraying no interest in the arrival of the aloof hunter. He had -felt confident that, given time, Avic would run short of funds for -entertaining and market his catch at a reasonable figure. But, at -length, had come disturbing rumors over his native "grape-vine." -Avic had heard, the rumor went, that the Moravian Mission has -established a new trade store at Wolf Lake, near the big river--the -mighty Mackenzie. He was excited by tales of high prices paid there -and was planning to migrate to that market with his prizes. - -"It was then," continued Karmack, "that I told O'Malley to mush over -to see this bird and talk him into a good humor. The young chap had -developed a knack at sign-language barter, although he knew little -Eskimo; I was busy on a bale of furs at the store. He was just to -persuade Avic to come into the post where we'd come to some -satisfactory agreement as to price for whatever the 'Skim's traps had -yielded. - -"By gar, sir, two hours passed and Oliver did not come back, nor was -there any sign of the hunter. The mission shouldn't have taken him -half an hour, for all in the name of reason that the native could -have wanted was for us to come to him with an invitation. I began to -get anxious and started out to see what was what. Meeting La Marr -out front, I asked him to come along with me, still with no -apprehension. We found what you yourself have seen--exactly that and -nothing more." - -He paused for a moment with his emotion, then: "Holy smoke, man, if I -had known what would eventuate, I'd never have sent him but gone -myself. They're afraid of me, these confounded huskies, and I'd -grown to love that boy as a brother!" - -"What do you know about O'Malley, Karmack--how he came into the -territories--what he'd done in the provinces--all that sort of -thing?" Seymour asked the disjointed question seemingly satisfied -with the other's preliminary statement. - -The trader was silent a moment, thinking. - -"Not a great deal, come to think of it," he said, before his -hesitation had become pronounced. "A tight-mouthed lad, Oliver, when -it came to his own affairs. He hails from Ottawa and was sent out by -the president of the Arctic Trading Company. Brought a letter from -the big chief telling me to make a trader out of him, if possible. -Evidently his people have money or influence. Perhaps there's some -politics in it. I don't really know, old bean." - -"Hadn't been in any jam down below, had he?" - -"Oh, rather not--not that sort at all. May have seen a bit of -Montreal or Quebec and perhaps had crossed the home bridge to Hull, -where it's a trifle damp, you know, but nothing serious, I'm certain. -The big chief never would have sent me a blighter." - -The sergeant asked for the victim's next of kin and who should be -notified. - -"Oliver never spoke of his family," answered the factor. "Had a -picture or two on the packing box he used for a bureau, but we never -discussed them. Said to notify the head office if anything went -wrong with him. Dear eyes, the lad was peculiar in some ways. You'd -think----" - -The sergeant's interest seemed not to lie in the trader's thoughts. -He had two inquests on his hands, to say nothing of the capture of -Avic of the foxes. For the moment forgotten was the fact that he had -promised Constable La Marr this detail. Moreover, there remained -that suspicion, born from his own narrow escape from the Ugiuk-line, -that there was more behind the murder than appeared on the surface. -He led the way from the hut; waited until La Marr had affixed another -police seal on the door, then moved ahead into the main trail, a -sled-wide path which camp traffic kept beaten down between the banks -of snow. - -A shout from down-trail startled them. From out of the increasing -dusk, bells jangling, bushed tails waving like banners, dashed a dog -team dragging a light sled. Wondering, they flattened against the -snow to give gangway. The arrival of a strange team at that time of -year was an event. - -The sled was braked to a halt a few yards down the trail. A tall -driver, slim despite an envelopment of furs, sprang from the basket -and waited for them to come up. - -"I thought I recognized a uniform in passing--and I need direction." - -The voice sounded clear as a bell on the evening frost and -unmistakably feminine. Moreover, it carried none of the accent -peculiar to the half-breed mission-trained women who spoke English. -They looked closer into a face of pure white and eyes that might have -been brushed into the pallor with a sooty finger. - -A white woman in Armistice--a young and comely girl of their own -race! Think how incredible it must seem to three who had settled -down to an October-April winter of isolation. - -"I'm Sergeant Seymour, of the Mounted, in charge of this detachment," -offered the policeman, for once speeding his speech. "Who're you -looking for, ma'am?" - -"I must find Oliver O'Malley's fur trading store. - -"And who might be seeking our young trader?" The sergeant kept from -his voice any hint of the dread that had clutched him. - -"I'm Moira O'Malley of British Columbia--his sister." - -This astounding complication left the three men speechless, glad for -the dusk that helped mask the consternation that must be written on -their faces. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -BEST OF BAD BUSINESS - -In his grown-up life, Sergeant Seymour had met a procession of -emergencies. Seldom had he failed to do the right and proper -thing--the best for all concerned. But never had he faced a more -difficult proposition than that presented by the young woman who now -faced him on the trail, awaiting news of the brother she had -journeyed so far to join. - -When he thought of what lay in the hut they had just replaced under -Mounted Police seal, he was distressed to the quick. When he -pondered the distress and disappointment that must be hers when she -learned the truth, that hidden strain of kindness within him promptly -interposed barrier against his blurting out the facts, police -fashion. He felt that he must temporize. - -"You've come to the right camp, Miss O'Malley, but your brother won't -be in to-night. In the morning----. But surely you did not mush -from the Mackenzie alone?" - -A small sigh, doubtless of disappointment at the further delay, -passed her lips; but no exclamation came. Evidently she was a -self-contained young person. - -No, she explained readily, she had not come alone. The Rev. Luke -Morrow and his wife were behind with another sled and they had -traveled only from Wolf Lake. The Rev. Morrow, it seemed, was a -friend and fellow churchman of her father, then stationed at Gold, -British Columbia. - -"_Only_ mushed from Wolf Lake!" exclaimed Constable La Marr, -stressing the only, although after one glance into her wonder face he -was hating himself the more for having let the fox hunter get away -from him. - -The missionaries were having trail trouble, she continued. Being so -near journey's end, she had dashed on with her lighter load, hoping -to send her brother to help them into camp, as well as being the -earlier to the reunion. - -"Constable La Marr will go out at once," declared the sergeant. "How -far are they?" - -"Scarcely a mile. We were in sight of your flag when they spilled." - -La Marr at once took the back trail, not waiting to go to the post -for the worn police team nor, considering the distance, wishing to -experiment with the girl's strange huskies. - -At the moment Moira turned to quell an incipient dog fight; the -sergeant turned quickly to Karmack. - -"Not a word to her until after the inquest--until we've a chance to -break it to her gently." - -The trader nodded agreement and was introduced when she had -straightened out her team. - -"Mr. Karmack was--is your brother's chief here at lonely young -Armistice." - -For a moment he held his breath for fear the verb slip would be -noticed and the question of tense raised. The girl, however, was too -much interested in her surroundings to heed. The trader helped by -bowing in his best manner and seizing one of her mittened hands in -both his own for a warm greeting. - -"A fine lad, Oliver. Dear eyes, what a fine chap!" - -His startling exclamative caused her own eyes to open, but Karmack -merely grinned in amiable fashion. - -"I hope you and your friends will accept the poor hospitality of the -trading post, at least for this night," he concluded heartily. -"We'll have plenty of room." - -"But isn't there a mission house," began the girl. "I thought the -Morrows----" - -Seymour interrupted. - -"Nothing doing, Karmack, with your commercialized hospitality. -They're the first visitors of the winter; I claim them in the name of -the king." He turned to the girl. "The mission house hasn't been -opened for months. We'll make you comfortable at the detachment -barrack--won't have to use the guard room, either. If you'll draw -rein at the flag pole----" - -Her "mush--mush on!" to the dogs rang clear and gave the policeman -further speech with the factor. - -"You couldn't have her there to-night, Karmack, in view of what I -have to tell her to-morrow. Her brother's things scattered all -about----she'd ask too many questions. Have you tangled in no time." - -Again Karmack nodded agreement. He hadn't thought of that, but only -of being hospitable. It would have been a treat, though, to -entertain such a charmer under the chaperonage of the missionary -couple. He would send up some butter for their supper. That of the -police stores smelled to the heavens. - -"That's fine; if ours came from cows, they were athletes," Seymour -replied with a grimace. "Come up with yourself for coffee. And I -wish you'd send your man for their dogs and kennel them for the -night. My malamutes raise Billy-blue when there's any new canine -clan in sniffing distance." - -The isolation of Armistice, with its difficulties of transportation, -combined with its newness as a police post caused even the living -room of the detachment to take on a barracks-like austerity. - -The scant furniture had been made on the spot and was all too rustic. -There were bunks along three walls and a scattering of skins upon the -rough boards of the floor. A lithograph of King George, draped with -the colors, occupied a position of honor, the only other decoration -being a print of the widely popular "Eddie," Prince of Wales. But -logs blazed cheerfully in the stone fireplace and Moira O'Malley, -divested of her outer trail clothes, looked very much at home as she -stood to its warmth. - -Not until he returned from the kitchen and the starting of a -"company" supper did Russell Seymour realize in full the startling -beauty of the Irish girl who had come to them at such an unfortunate -moment. She was within an inch of being as tall as himself as she -stood there on the hearth. Her lampblack hair, coiled low on her -lovely neck, actually was dressed to show her small ears--and almost -had he forgotten that white women had pairs of such. - -A generous mouth, full and red of lips, sent his eyes hastening on -their fleeting inspection when she became aware of his presence in -the kitchen doorway. If the even rows of pearls behind those lips -had flashed him a smile then, the temptation must have been too -great. Her slender figure merely hinted at rounding out in its mould -of black blanket-cloth. He glanced shyly at her ankles--always the -cover-point in his estimate of feminine pulchritude. She still wore -her trail _muckluks_ of fur, clumsy looking as a squaw's sacking, but -he knew beyond doubt how silk stockings and pumps would become her. - -In the eyes he had remarked on the trail, however, Moira's beauty -reached its highest peak, he decided. They were as blue as the heart -of an Ungova iceberg and as warm as the fire which glowed behind her. -They looked out at him in a friendly, inquiring way from behind -lashes as dark as an Arctic winter night. - -And on the morrow those lashes would be wet with tears of grief. At -the moment he'd gladly have given his hope of heaven to have ushered -a laughing young Oliver O'Malley into the room. - -"Decorative, to say the least," she remarked, at last flashing him -the threatened smile. - -"Yes, ma'am--what ma'am?" he stammered. - -"The uniform of the Mounted as you wear it in that door frame," she -teased him. "At that, I'd rather see it--you on a horse." - -He fell back on the only defense he knew--a pretense at seriousness. -"Up here we're the Royal Canadian _Dis_-Mounted Police, Miss -O'Malley. We know only two seasons--dog and canoe. There isn't a -single 'G' Division mount north of Fort Resolution. By the time I -see a horse again, I'll probably have forgotten how to ride. I'll -climb aboard Injun style and try to steer him by his tail." - -The sergeant was glad to hear the crunch of steps upon the snow. -Under the circumstances, he was in no mood for persiflage and more -than willing to give up the bluff that seemed required. He stifled a -sigh of relief as La Marr ushered in the missionaries. - -A quiet couple, plain, both a trifle frail-looking for Arctic rigors, -the Morrows proved to be. Serious as they were about "The Work" to -which they were prepared to give years of sacrifice, both were -"regulars" in the life of the North. Scarcely would they wait to -warm up before insisting on helping their hosts prepare supper. -Moira, too, insisted on having a hand. The lean-to kitchen refused -to hold them all, however, so Seymour cited the "too many cooks" rule -and discharged all but Mrs. Morrow. - -The meal which soon was on the oilcloth was more substantial than -formal. It consisted of warmed-up soup from a great kettle that held -a week's supply at a time, then sizzling carabou steaks, sour-dough -bread, boiled beans and bacon and, of course, marmalade from distant -England. It was the sort of menu that "sticks to the ribs" -gratefully after a day in the open. When Karmack came in for his -promised coffee, he found the post gayer than ever he had known it to -be. Yet, for three of them buoyancy was as forced as jigging at a -wake. - -With tact increased by the fear that some chance slip would disclose -to their lovely guest the news that he felt temporarily should be -kept from her, Sergeant Seymour discovered that the ladies were worn -by their long run in the biting cold. He threw open the door of -"officers' room," disclosing a wood fire crackling in a Yukon stove -and two bunks spread with blankets fresh from the post's reserve -supply. - -"Not much to offer as a guest room, but our one best bet," he -apologized. "I'll confess frankly that there isn't a single -bunk-sheet in the detachment. But I think I can guarantee a sound -sleep for both of you. I'll promise there'll be no breakfast alarm -in the morning, but the makings of a meal will be beside the kitchen -stove when you're ready." - -Protest unexpected came from mild-mannered Mrs. Morrow. "But we're -routing you out of house and home, sergeant," she exclaimed. With a -nod of her blond head, she indicated an extra uniform which dangled -from a hook against the wall, telltale staff stripes upon its crimson -sleeve. - -"A dreadful thing to do," added Moira. "And on your first night home -after your long patrol!" - -That portion of Seymour's face that was not bearded took color from -the tunic that had betrayed him. "And I thought I'd removed all -trace of the former occupant. Must be getting color blind." He -carried the jacket into the living room. "Don't worry about your -reverend, Mrs. Morrow; he'll bunk as snug as a bug out here with La -Marr and me," he called back. - -There was a chorus of good-nights; then the men settled to their -pipes before the fireplace. After a reasonable wait in silence, -Seymour lowered his voice and communicated to Luke Morrow the news of -the tragedy. Without reservation, the missionary approved their -course of keeping it from Moira until after the necessary legal -formalities had been carried out. Then, he said, he would take -charge with a religious reverence that might lighten the blow. - -"She's a wonderful woman, Moira O'Malley," he said with deep feeling. -"She endeared herself to everyone who met her over at Wolf Lake. -Utterly wrapped up in her brother, this will be a terrible blow. I -wonder if----" He hesitated. "Would it be admissible, do you think, -to tell her of the death but not the fearful form?" - -Glances exchanged by the three laymen showed that they appreciated -the missionary's struggle--kindly thought against strict -truthfulness. Long had he taught the "truth, the whole truth and -nothing but the truth." But just now he wavered. - -"By gar! It absolutely would!" Karmack vociferated. - -Seymour's quick wit worked out a solution. - -"An accident of the Arctic prairies. I'll trust having that one -marked up against me in the Doomsday Book." - -"Blessed are the kindly of heart," murmured the "sky-pilot." "So be -it!" - -Of course, they all realized that Moira would learn in time the -nature of the "accident," but that need not be until Time had its -chance to salve the wound. The arrest of Avic need not bring about -disclosure, once the whites in Armistice were pledged to keep it from -her. She might know him only as another unfortunate, misguided -Eskimo slayer, a handcuff brother to Olespe of the Lady Franklin -band, then in the guard room. - -"But Mrs. Morrow?" The thought came suddenly to Seymour that the -woman missionary spoke some Eskimo. "She'll hear of it from the -natives." - -Luke Morrow smiled; they did not know of the iron which was in the -make-up of his little blond wife as he did. - -"She is a good woman, so merciful. I will pray this out with her in -the morning." - -For a time, gloomy silence held the group around the fireplace. -Suddenly Karmack leaned over and grasped Morrow almost roughly by the -shoulder. - -"Parson, do you know why that girl left her father and the -comparative comforts of a British Columbia gold camp to share a -trader's shack in bleak Armistice with her brother?" - -The trader's demand scarcely could have been more vehement had he -personally resented Moira's coming. "I know that he did not expect -her. What's more, he never even spoke of having a sister." - -The missionary's calm was perfect. - -"She had no way of letting him know that she was coming to spend the -winter with him, once the wireless she sent to Edmonton failed to -reach Wolf Lake," he replied. "She came through herself by team in -the first storm of winter. We had great difficulty in keeping her -with us until we ourselves were ready to make the trip across -country. She'd have come through with an Indian dog driver if we had -not protested so stoutly." - -"All that to see a brother, eh?" snorted Karmack. "Are you certain -she is his sister?" - -Seymour sprang to his feet, an angry glitter in his gray eyes. -"Enough of that, Karmack! Express another such doubt and out you -go--for good." - -For a moment, a snarling expression strove to master the trader's -face. The missionary poured oil. - -"I'm sure Mr. Karmack meant nothing wrong. He's just a bit upset by -all these happenings." - -"Upset? Dear eyes, yes--I'll say I'm upset." The factor made a -quick grasp for peace, for the sergeant looked dangerous. "All I -meant was that I could understand a wife going to such an effort to -join a husband, but not a sister." - -"Any reason to believe Oliver O'Malley had a wife?" Seymour remained -stern. - -"None in the world. But a sister---- To make a trip like that, she -must have had some very pressing reason." Again his eyes questioned -the parson. - -"If there existed any other than sisterly affection," said Morrow -evenly, "she did not express it to me." His manner was so final as -to make further questioning discourteous. - -Clumsily as Karmack had used his probe, he had but echoed a query -that had been in Seymour's mind from his first realization of Moira's -superlative comeliness. The sergeant had meant to ask about this -when he and Morrow were alone, and he would have put his question -without giving offense. - -Why had one who deserved to be the honored toast of the Dominion -rushed into the Arctic wilds, evidently unasked, certainly -unexpected, at a time of year when it would be next to impossible to -send her back? - -Was there any connection between her coming and what had occurred so -recently in the Eskimo hut? Had she brought a warning of some sort -to this beloved brother and been lulled into thinking she might delay -for a missionary escort and still be in time to serve and save him? - -Those rapid-fire speculations, unvoiced, seemed to advise only -negative answers. Yet why had she come? - -Constable La Marr, who had been silent all evening to a point of -moodiness, now snapped Seymour from his thoughts with a question of -his own. - -"And when are you going to turn me loose after that accursed Avic?" -he demanded in a tone that was scarcely subordinate. - -The missionary looked up at his violence, but had no censure for the -speech of it. These men who give their lives to lighten the Arctic -native's sorry burden grow accustomed to strong language. - -"At daybreak you will take the dogs, mush over to Prospect, and -subpoena those three mining engineers wintering there to serve on -coroner's jury. Bring them back with you. Miss O'Malley need know -of only one inquest." He glanced with thoughtful eyes toward the -closed door of the inner room. "After that----" - -One look at the young constable's face must have told any who saw it -that Avic, the Eskimo, would need to hide like a weasel to escape -that arm of the law. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -SILVER AND BLACK - -La Marr was away at dawn with a _venire facias_ for each of the three -gold explorers, the only competent jurors within reach. As it was a -matter of forty miles' rough sledding to the prospectors' camp and -return, the inquests could scarcely be held before the late -afternoon. That the girl whose emotions they were conspiring to -protect might be too busy for vagrant suspicions, Sergeant Seymour -suggested to the Morrows that they open up Mission House while he was -at liberty to help them. - -"Don't want to seem inhospitable, Mrs. Morrow," he said in his -slowest, most deferential manner, "and you know you'll be welcome -here as long as you care to stay, but I'm sure you want to get into -your own place as soon as possible. Never know when some Arctic -hades is going to cut loose and take me out on the trail. I'm off -duty this morning--more than ready to help with the heavy work." - -This brought an offer from Moira O'Malley that struck the hearts of -those who knew. - -"Our sergeant of the Dismounted is positively brilliant this -morning," she said, confounding him utterly with twin flashes of -Irish blue. "Why, all the time I attended school in Ottawa, I saw no -one more considerate. You see, when Oliver gets back from this -inconsiderate mush of his, I'll become quite useless as your -handmaiden, Emma, with all the things a brother will be needing done -for him." - -Mrs. Morrow had not been advised of the true situation, but she had -her own ideas as to the proper habitat in an outland's camp for a -girl like Moira. - -"Oh, you'll keep right on living at Mission House as long as you're -here, my dear," she said. "The shack of a bachelor trader is no -place for so dashing a belle." - -"But I know Olie's quarters, whatever they are, will need my sisterly -attentions," she protested, spreading unconscious agony to the two -men. "His room at home always was a sight. A place for everything -but nothing in its place seemed to be that Mick's motto." - -As the two men went on ahead to the small dwelling that had been -closed since the previous spring thaw, Seymour found himself asking -again why she had come. Were sisters as devoted as that? As -motherly? Never having had a sister, he was unable to answer. - -The pair stripped weather boarding from doors and windows, aired the -house thoroughly and carried in a supply of wood from the shed. They -then closed it tight and built roaring fires in every available stove -to remove the winter chill. The native hostler from the post already -had shoveled paths through the snow. - -So far as the two males could see, but little inside cleaning would -be necessary. But the women, on coming to the house presently, -revised that verdict and fell to with broom and mop. - -The smoke from Mission House stove-pipes probably had been reported -to Karmack, for he arrived presently, his interpreter drawing a -toboggan loaded with provisions which were presented to the -missionaries with compliments from the trading company. The gift was -gracious, the supplies being of a sort not found in the somewhat -meager store of staples provided by the societies. They were -gratefully received. - -Came then a second shock from Moira, again an innocent one, in the -form of coupled questions. - -"But Mr. Karmack, have you locked the store?" she asked first. - -"Not much trade these wintry days and if customers come, they'll -stick around like summer bull-flies." He accomplished the only laugh -of the morning. - -"But who is there to tell Oliver, when he comes back, that I've -arrived and am waiting?" - -Harry Karmack's freshly shaved, usually ruddy face went as white as -the girl's natural pallor at this unexpected turn to his attempted -whimsicality. He staggered back as if she had struck him a blow. -Seymour, standing near, steadied him into a chair. - -"That bad heart of yours again, old top?" the sergeant asked quietly. - -No one ever had heard of anything being the matter with Karmack's -heart, but the timely question served to cover his emotion. Mrs. -Morrow noticed it, but did not wonder thereat, Evidently Moira had -hit these sons of isolation hard, and there were in prospect -interesting sessions, she thought, for Mission House living room that -winter. - -Seymour decided he had endured enough agony for one morning and so, -on the plea of police routine, started for the post. But the -thumbscrew of misadventure was to receive one more turn. From the -door of Mission House the melodious voice of Moira carried to him. - -"Oh, Sergeant Scarlet, please do keep an eye open for my merry -brother along Rideau Street, or whatever you call the thoroughfare -which passes your headquarters." - -"And I'll have him paged at the Chateau Laurier and ask for him out -at Brittania Park," he managed to answer in terms of the city of her -schooling. But he had no heart for the jest, mindful of the change -that soon must come to her happy mood. - -He entered the police shack by the back door and looked in for a -moment on Olespe. His prisoner from Lady Franklin oblivious of his -fate, seemed to revel in the luxury of the guard room's warmth. The -sergeant went through and out the front way. - -"Rideau Street indeed," ran his thoughts. "What a name for that -streak through the snow in Armistice!" - -At that, Moira showed that she knew her Ottawa, for Rideau is the -street on which face the red brick headquarters of the Royal Mounted. -Would that she had never left the capital! Would that he could waft -her home again, sacrifice though that would be in this ice-bound -isolation! - -Straight to Avic's hut he went and broke the seal upon the door, as -was his right. Again his eyes were upon all that remained of her -"merry brother." He wondered about death and the hereafter and -various things that never should enter a Mountie's mind--not when -he's stationed north of Sixty-six. - -Then, suddenly, his eyes seemed to open as though a mote had been -cast from each. Perhaps this was effected by the magic of Moira's -charm and beauty. Certainly he saw details that had not impressed -him the previous afternoon. - -As might a wolverine in defense of her young, he pounced upon the -silver fox pelt that lay on the sleeping bench beside the murdered -youth--lay in such a way as to indicate its purchase had already been -negotiated. He studied the set of the fur and sniffed at the tanning -on the inner side. His eyes widened as he held the beautiful exhibit -before him and realized the possibilities that were opened up by this -definite clue. - -"Magic skin," he murmured half aloud after the fashion of men who -find themselves often alone in the wilderness. "You widen the -mystery; may you help to close it!" - -Gently, without shrinking from the cold touch, he removed the last -clutch of O'Malley's fingers from the black fox--probably the pelt of -ostensible contention. Close examination of this showed the same -conditions to exist. - -Neither of the foxes had been trapped in the present winter; both had -been cured at least a year. - -"Magic skin," he repeated, and breathed a wish too fervent for -utterance even in the hut where he stood alone. - -In the act of wishing, memory put its finger on him. There came to -mind that famous tale of Balzac's, "The Magic Skin." The story dealt -with the hide of an ass which, with every wish invoked from it, -shrank until the greedy owner was threatened with the disappearance -of his magic possession. - -Perhaps Seymour had best cease wishing. But he recalled he had a -pair of magic skins in hand; grew defiant of the venerable myth, and -wished again, more fervently even than before that it would fall to -his lot to solve the deepened mystery of the Oliver O'Malley murder. - -Opening the pea jacket of his winter uniform, he tucked both furs -beneath his tunic. Closing and resealing the hut, he strode back to -the police cabin. Had he intended to appropriate the silver and -black treasures for his own gain, he scarcely could have hidden them -more carefully. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -REGARD FOR THE LAW - -Nowhere in the civilized world, perhaps, is there more respect paid -to the coroner and his inquests than in the Dominion of Canada. This -regard is not confined to the settled provinces, but reaches beyond -the Arctic Circle even to the farthermost post of the Royal Mounted -in latitude 76--Ellesmere Island, on the edge of the Polar Sea. This -afternoon in Armistice was being devoted to the ancient formality of -the law. - -As one of the miners, brought in by Constable La Marr from Prospect -to serve as juryman, put it in half-hearted protest to Seymour: - -"You red coats would hold an inquest at the North Pole if word came -to you that some one was violently dead up there." - -In his capacity as coroner, Sergeant Seymour first called the inquest -over Mrs. Olespe, whose Eskimo name was too complicated with -gutturals for English pronunciation. Upon chairs and one of the -bunks in the living room of the post sat the jury--the three gold -hunters from Prospect and Factor Karmack. At a table beside his -superior was Constable La Marr, acting as clerk of court. - -The prisoner, more stolid than sullen, was brought in from the guard -room and planted on another of the bunks beside Koplock, the -interpreter who regularly served the Arctic Traders. - -Seymour's first difficulty was to make certain that Olespe understood -the warning that had been given him at the time of his arrest, for he -had not entirely trusted the ability of the volunteer translator who -had served him up North. - -"Ask him if he knows who the Royal Canadian Mounted Police are," was -the first address to the interpreter. - -There followed verbal explosions back and forth. - -"Olespe says they are the rich men of the country," reported the -interpreter. - -Shrugging his shoulders over the apparent hopelessness of the -situation, Seymour tried again: "Ask him what he thinks the police -came into the country for." - -"To make us unhappy," came the report presently. - -"In what way--unhappy?" - -"By not let us shoot at what is ours to shoot and which we can hit." - -Feeling that he was making progress, the sergeant got to the vital -point. "Ask him what I said to him when I put him under arrest?" - -"He says," translated the interpreter, "you told him he'd get hurt if -he talked too much." - -Seymour decided to let it go at that and led the way to the -outbuilding used as morgue. There Olespe identified the remains of -his wife, which had been sledded so many snowy miles because there -was no possibility of finding a white jury nearer. The Eskimo added -indifferently what was translated into "She no good wife." - -Back in the station the sergeant told of his investigations at the -scene of the crime, listed possible witnesses and summarized their -version of a tragedy all too common among the Eskimo who are prone to -the _ménage à trois_. The jury promptly brought in a verdict against -Olespe, and Seymour, in his capacity of magistrate, held him to trial. - -They were ready then for the second case of the day, the formal -inquiry into the death of Oliver O'Malley. As Karmack was to be the -most important witness, a change was made in the jury by substituting -for him the recently arrived missionary. With these four and his -constable clerk, Seymour went down the trail to the hut which Avic -had occupied. That Karmack elected to stick by the stove at the post -until the jury returned caused the coroner-sergeant secret rejoicing. -He saw to it that La Marr did not enter the hut. The jury, seeing -the interior for the first time, did not miss the fox-pelt clews -which he had appropriated that morning. - -Karmack and the Eskimo relative who had loaned Avic the hut, gave the -only testimony. This the jury held sufficient on which to find a -verdict against the fox hunter and when the fact had been duly -recorded the coroner's court was declared closed. - -The saddest task of the day was at hand--one from which these strong -men shrank, but which none was ready to shirk. Presently a strange -procession came up the trail from the hut of tragedy. In the lead -was the police team of malamutes, with La Marr beside the foremost -dog, holding him by leash to a dignified pace. They drew a sled -carrying a blanketed burden. This vehicle Seymour steadied with the -aid of a gee-pole. The prospectors and Harry Karmack brought up in -the rear with bowed heads. - -The way led, naturally, to the newly opened Mission House at the door -of which Morrow met them. The dogs were unhitched and taken away by -La Marr. The others picked up the sled and carried it into one of -the bedrooms. From another room could be heard stifled sobs and -words of comfort. Moira O'Malley knew, then, that her sisterly rush -into the Frozen North, whatever its real object, had been in vain. -The missionary's wife had broken the news of death without the real -detail and now was comforting her. - -On returning to the post, Seymour was momentarily surprised to see -that the police dog team had been hitched to another sled--this one -lightly loaded. The native hostler was holding them in waiting. -Inside he found La Marr pacing the floor like some animal tenant of a -zoo. - -"Where away, Charlie?" he asked. - -"After Avic. I'm just waiting for you to issue the warrant. You -promised me the chance at him, you must remember." - -"But why to-night?" - -The constable gave him an impatient glance. "I can make that Eskimo -camp on Musk-ox to-night; I'll be that far on my way. Haven't we -lost time enough through my mistake?" - -It took but a moment for Seymour to issue the warrant charging one -Avic, Eskimo, with the murder by strangulation of Oliver O'Malley, -which was in accord with the verdict. - -"Remember the motto of the Force, young fellow," he cautioned as he -handed over the document. - -La Marr stuffed it into a pocket underneath his _parkee_. - -"Aye--get me man!" - -"Not that," said his superior with a frown. "It's 'Never fire -first!' See that you bring Avic back alive. There's more depends on -that than you know." - -The constable looked startled. "You don't mean---- Why it's an open -and shut case. The coroner's jury----" - -"Bring Avic back alive, that's all. Good luck." - -La Marr squared himself for a formal salute and went out into the -gathering dusk. He had his orders. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -WANTED--AN ESKIMO FOX - -After the excitement attending his return from the North patrol, the -short winter days and the far longer nights passed slowly for the -O.C. of Armistice detachment, now reduced to commanding himself. One -week--two weeks--part of a third had been crossed off the calendar -without any word coming from his man-hunting constable. Seymour -wasn't exactly worrying yet, but he was beginning to wish he had not -been so generous about giving young La Marr this chance to redeem -himself. - -Above all else he desired the custody of Avic, the fox hunter. The -body of the accused Eskimo would not satisfy him; no more would a -report of his death. Nothing would do but Avic in the quick. - -Often in the endless evenings, while intermittent blizzards raged -about the shuttered windows, he would take out the black and silver -pelts. From various angles he would argue their bearing on the case. -More than ever was he assured that they were not of recent trapping. -The fur was that of animals which had been through a long, easy -winter--one when rabbits had been plentiful. This was not a rabbit -winter on the arctic prairies east of the Mackenzie. - -These particular foxes had been trapped in the early spring, or he -was no judge of fur quality. That this spring had not been the -previous one was shown by the seasoned state of the tanning. -However, this tanning did not appear to be Eskimo work, but that of -Indian squaws further south. - -Every Eskimo has a flock of cousins. He had visited several in the -immediate vicinity who claimed more or less of that relationship to -the missing Avic. He had examined the work of their women on furs. -A pronounced difference in process seemed evident to him. - -The film of mystery brought into the O'Malley murder by his own -knowledge of Eskimo strangling had been intensified into a shroud by -his study of the exhibits he had secreted. Yet, speculate as he -would, there was no other apparent line of suspicion than that of the -native's guilt. He was at loss how to proceed until he had -questioned the man for whom the warrant had been issued. - -Each time he looked at the pelts, one outstanding fact came to mind: - -No Eskimo ever held a pelt, after his woman had cured it, longer than -it took to get to the handiest trader. It was against all rhyme and -reason that two fox pelts, worth many times their weight in gold, -would remain in the hands of a ne'er-do-well like Avic so long after -they were marketable. How, then, had the native come by them? - -Under ordinary circumstances--rather, under the amity of -suffer-isolation-together which had existed prior to the tragedy, he -might have gone to Harry Karmack with his problem. At least, the -factor could have given him an expert's opinion as to when the skins -had become pelts by virtue of trapping and tanning. - -But a breach yawned between the two--one unwittingly caused by the -fair addition to the limited population of Armistice. It wasn't an -open one, so far, but both knew that it existed and bridging it was -the last thought of either. They were unadmitted rivals for the -favor of Moira O'Malley. Anyone who knew the man, could have read -the sergeant's interest in his countenance. Contrary to winter -practice of toilers of the trails, his face had been clean shaved -from the morning after La Marr's departure. The trader, on his part, -showed intensity of his heart-hurt by countless little attentions to -the young woman. - -The unfortunate brother had been laid away upon the highest knoll -near the camp after a simple service conducted by Rev. Morrow. The -girl had held up under her bereavement with a courage that commanded -all their admiration. No hint of the real cause of Oliver's death -had reached her, so guarded had been the four resident whites who -knew. From the Eskimo, of course, she learned nothing. She had -accepted the report of an "accident of the Arctic" and had asked no -embarrassing questions as to details. The finality of death seemed -to suffice; nothing else mattered. - -A week after the funeral, a stranger would not have known from her -manner that suddenly she had been deprived of one of her dearest -relatives. She never spoke of having a philosophy of life, but -something of the sort seemed to sustain her. Her whole behavior -indicated that she was determined not to make others unhappy with her -personal grief. They all had their lives to live in a location that -made life difficult. Moira O'Malley would do her utmost to make the -winter as happy as might be. She did not even ask if it were not -possible to send her "Outside," now that the reason for her presence -had been removed by Fate. - -Harry Karmack, bearing a book to Mission House in the hope that -gloomy thought might be diverted thereby, had been the first of the -rivals to discover her mental attitude. He had been prompt to act on -his important discovery. Besides the volume, he left an invitation -to dinner for the girl and her hosts. Sergeant Russell Seymour, -official head of the tiny community, was not among those present, -having received no invitation. - -Now, this was a breach of camp etiquette which could not be -overlooked. Far worse than the cut direct, it was nearly as much an -insult as a blow in the face. When a handful of whites are -segregated in a bronze man's country, they naturally cling to each -other as they do to the "alders." Everyone possibly within the pale -is invited to everything that approaches a function. Even squaw-men -are asked to attend if they retain a semblance of presentability. - -There was no possible question that Factor Harry Karmack's dinner was -a function. Although it had never been mentioned by Moira or the -Morrows, the sergeant had all the details. These had been relayed by -his native hostler who had them direct from the Arctic's interpreter, -the latter having acted as butler for the all-important occasion. -The meal had been served in courses, mind you, for the first time in -the history of the camp. The factor's store of delicacies, even to -the tinned plum pudding, intended for the Christmas feast, had been -freely broached. - -Seymour could not hope to equal such a spread from police rations, -but he was not to be outdone in hospitality. Miss O'Malley and the -Morrows had accepted his invitation to a sour-dough luncheon. The -factor had not accepted for an excellent reason that you probably can -imagine. - -The three from Mission House were coming this very noon and the -sergeant had been occupied part of the morning correcting the -haphazard housekeeping of quarters. In fact, they had come, as was -attested by the knocking upon the front door. - -More lovely than ever Moira seemed to him as she returned a smile to -his enthusiastic greetings. She was dressed to-day entirely in -white, the first time he had ever seen her in anything but black. - -"What a snow bird you are, Moira!" he exclaimed, almost forgetting to -greet the missionaries. - -"In that case, I'm relieved you're not packing a gun, Sergeant -Scarlet." - -"Not even side arms," he said, releasing his whimsical smile. "I'm -the one that's wounded--fluttering. Put your wraps in the tent, all -of you, and I'll put you to work." - -For the first time they noticed the stage-setting he had created for -his social bow. Every stick of furniture had been removed and the -floor covered with reindeer moss, gray, soft and fragrant. Two -reserve sleds, padded with outspread sleeping bags, were evidently -intended to serve as seats. The "tent" to which he had referred them -was a drape of canvas over the door leading into his own room. About -the hearth were scattered pots, pans and dishes of tin. The -fireplace glowed like a camp fire permitted to grow dim for culinary -service. - -"So this is what you meant by a sour-dough party," observed Mrs. -Morrow, her voice betraying her enthusiasm over the idea. - -"Wonder if I'm hard-bitten enough by now to get the idea?" Moira -asked them. - -"We're hitting the trail," explained the missionary. "We've just -pitched camp and are about to make muck-muck. As Northwesterners -never pack grub for idle hands to eat, we'd better strip off our -coats and get into action." - -Where the fire glowed the hottest, Seymour rigged an iron spit from -which he suspended a shank of caribou on a wire as supple as a piece -of string. Beneath, he placed a pan to catch the drippings. To -Moira he entrusted a second wire so attached that an occasional pull -kept the meat turning. - -"There's nothing more delicious than roast caribou," he advised her, -"and this is the very best way to roast it." - -Luke Morrow was to attend the broiling of a dozen fool-hens--a -variety of grouse--which the sergeant had shot that morning. To Mrs. -Emma was assigned the task of picking over a mess of fiddle-head -ferns which, by some magic, he had kept fresh since fall. He was -certain that, when properly boiled, they would produce a dish of -greens more delicate than spinach. - -"And you, Russell?" queried the girl, for they soon had taken to -first names, except that she sometimes called him "Sergeant Scarlet." -"Because of your rank, I suppose you'll merely boss the job and eat -twice as much as anyone else." - -He did not answer, but fell to his knees beside the open mouth of a -flour sack. With the aid of water and an occasional pinch of baking -powder, he quickly mixed a wad of dough. Greasing a gold-pan with a -length of bacon rind, he filled it with the dough and stood it up -facing the fire. - -"I'm baking bannock," he answered Moira's quizzical look. "When the -outside is browned, I'll toss it like a pancake, and soon we'll have -a better bread than mother ever made." - -The primitive feast at last was ready and they fell upon it seated -tailor-fashion upon the moss. The caribou was so tender, remarked -Rev. Morrow in complimenting the fair spit attendant, that you could -put your finger through it. - -"Don't waste time putting anything through it but your teeth," -remarked their host. - -Later, when they had turned to moss berries and condensed "cow," -provided as a typical desert, Moira expressed regret that Seymour's -attractive young constable was not present to share the feast. - -"Have you heard anything from La Marr, Seymour?" asked the missionary. - -"Not a word." - -Something in his tone startled the girl. "Has he gone on a dangerous -mission?" she asked. "Are you worried about him?" - -The sergeant shook his head. "He's one of the trail-boys and will -find others to stand by if he's in trouble." And after a moment's -silence, he quoted: - - "The cord that ties the trail-boys has lashed - Them heart to heart; - No stage presents their joys, no actors - Play their parts; - Their struggles are seldom known, because - Through wilds untrod - These daring spirits roam where there is - Naught but God." - - -The spell of silence that followed his pronouncement of the Deity was -rudely broken by a hammering on the outer door. So peremptory was -the summons that Seymour sprang to his feet, crossed the room and -flung the door open, only to start back in amazement. - -"Avic of the foxes, by all that's holy!" he exclaimed. - -Framed in the doorway, his small eyes peering from a strained face -out of the wolverine hood of his _parkee_, the fugitive Eskimo stood -alone. Instead of handcuffs on his wrists, he held a rifle across -his breast. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE HERO FUGITIVE - -As the sergeant moved forward intent upon seizing the rifle, the -huge, raw-boned Kogmollyc came into the room with a bound that -carried him well over the threshold. The move had every appearance -of an attack of one demented; but before Seymour could grapple with -him the lack of hostile intent was made manifest. - -The rifle Avic carried was thrown regardlessly to the floor. With a -snarl inhuman, the Eskimo threw himself down beside the platter of -caribou roast. The odors of cooked food had proved too much for -racial restraint. Hunger had brought on the precipitate action. - -For several minutes, Seymour and his guests stood and watched the -fugitive with amazement. He went at the deer shank after the fashion -of a starving malamute. Sinking his teeth into the succulent meat, -he tore out great mouthfuls which he swallowed without chewing. At -first growls were interspersed between the bites, but gradually these -were succeeded by grunts of satisfaction. Once he dropped the shank -to fill his mouth with bannock, but he returned to the meat, sucking -at it while yet his mouth was crowded. - -Seymour stooped for the gun, recognized it as a service weapon and -grew suddenly grave. - -"La Marr's rifle," he muttered. - -Crossing to the native, he gripped the back-thrown hood of the -_parkee_ and dragged him, sputtering protestingly, to his feet. Avic -was considerable to lift, but Seymour was strong and deeply aroused. -The caribou shank came with the savage, held in teeth that demanded a -last bite. - -"Here, you dog, drop that!" came gruff command. "Want to founder -yourself?" - -Morrow, too, recognized the danger of overloading a stomach long -deprived of food, took hold of the meat and tore it away from the -Eskimo. - -"But surely they'll let him eat more later?" asked Moira of Mrs. -Morrow in a hushed tone. - -Seymour spoke rapidly to the missionary, asking him to go to the -trading post for the interpreter. In some way, the Eskimo grasped -the gist of this request. - -"Avic, he speak them Engleesh," was his surprising statement. - -"Then tell me, where you get this gun?" Seymour demanded. "Where is -the red coat that owns him?" Unwittingly he had fallen into the -broken speech of the few natives who know other than their own tongue. - -Avic grinned widely, showing ivory fangs, in the openings between -which shreds of meat still hung. - -"Him hungry all same me," he said. "Him out there----" He gestured -to the front door which one of the women had closed. "----stay by -sled." - -Something about this reply seemed to tickle the native for he laughed -until the loose folds of his _parkee_ rippled. Neither Seymour nor -Morrow waited to learn the reason for the mirth, but dashed out the -door. - -In the furrowed trail they found La Marr, holding the dogs with -difficulty, for they recognized they were at trail's end. The -constable was in his sleeping bag which was lashed to the _koinatik_. -He had "stay by sled" for an excellent reason. His leg was broken. - -"Well, Charlie, I see you got your man," said Seymour, by way of -being cheerful, as he steadied the sled which the dogs, under -Morrow's guidance, were pulling up the bank into the yard. - -"No, Serg., me man got me." The response was in a voice weak from -suffering. - -They carried him into the house, sleeping bag and all. Before -attempting the painful ordeal of extracting the broken, unset limb -from the fur-lined sack, they fed him the breast of one of the fool -hens that had been left from the interrupted feast. At Seymour's -request, the two women went into the kitchen to prepare hot water for -the impending operation and a strong broth of which the constable -would be in need afterward. - -As every missionary in the North is something of a surgeon as well as -a lay physician, Luke Morrow hurried to Mission House for his kit. -The while, Avic sat on the hearth, contentedly munching a chunk of -bannock which no one had the heart to take away from him. - -When the room was cleared, Sergeant Seymour leaned over his constable -for a low-voiced question. "Is Avic under arrest?" - -"I--I hadn't the heart, after all he's done for me," said the injured -mountie. "He brought me along willingly enough. Didn't seem the -least afraid about coming back to the post. Go easy on him, -sergeant. I'd have been wolf food if it hadn't been for him." - -The arrest had to be made quickly, before Moira chanced back into the -room if their kind-hearted plot was to be sustained. Seymour got the -Eskimo's attention, reminded him that he understood English, and went -through the formal lines of arrest and warning, with the addition -that it was "for the murder of Oliver O'Malley." - -"Sure," said the native, who had learned some of his English from -American whalers at Herschel Island. "I savey. What do? When we -go?" - -Seymour did not understand the significance of this last question, -but hadn't the time to inquire into it. Leading Avic to the guard -room, he turned him in to make friends with Olespe or not, as Eskimo -etiquette might decree. - -As he was locking the door of the cell room, Moira came from the -kitchen with improvised splints and a roll of bandages. She told him -quietly of her service in France with a Red Cross unit and asked -permission to help with the operation. - -"If I can handle the ether or anything----" - -"Thank you, Moira," the sergeant interrupted. "If Dr. Morrow can use -you, I'll call." - -The parson-surgeon returned with medicine and instrument cases. The -sleeping bag was slit down its top-center, as the least painful way -of removing the patient, and gently they carried him to an improvised -operating table in Seymour's quarters. - -Morrow proposed an anæsthetic. Even in the hands of a skilled -surgeon, he declared, the bone-setting would be most painful; he was -just a clumsy, well-intentioned amateur. - -"Damme if I'll go out of my head for just a jab of pain," the doughty -constable exclaimed. - -"A whiff of ether will make it easier, Charlie," suggested his -superior. "And I'll whisper a secret--Miss O'Malley is ready to -administer it. She served with us in France." - -La Marr's black eyes gleamed a second in appreciation. Then he shook -his head decisively. - -"Aye, and that wouldn't be so bad," he said. "But I've smelled the -sweet stuff before. When I am coming out of it I tell all I know. -We'll take no chances of ragging her with babbling about Oliver's -murder." He turned to Morrow. "Let's go, parson, and do your -darndest to make me a straight leg." - -The operation took some time, the break being a compound requiring a -preliminary reduction. In this Moira did help and perhaps her -presence was as potent as anæsthesia. At any rate, not a cry escaped -the lips of the broken Mountie. - -When the splints finally were fastened and the patient refreshed with -a cup of fool-hen broth, Seymour asked an account of the pursuit and -accident. - -"If you'll hand my jacket--wrote report when I thought we wouldn't -pull through." He passed over his note book. "I want to sleep now." - -In the living room, the sergeant bent over this blurred scrawl in -pencil: - - - _Sert. Seymour, O.C. - Armistice Detachment._ - -_Sir:_ I have the honor to report: - -Followed fugitive from one camp to another, always a jump or two -behind him. Seemed not to know where he was headed. Ate all my own -supplies. Took to Eskimo grub. Not so worse after stomach gets -used. Three days ago, crossing lake on gladed ice. Think it was -Lake Blarney. Dogs sight a stray wolf. Run away. Sled swerves into -fishing hole. Me thrown into water. Leg broken. Make edge of ice -and crawl out. Can't go farther. Dogs catch, kill and eat wolf. -Come back looking for me, but not near enough so I can swing on sled. - -Am freezing to death when come Avic over my trail. For why? He -makes camp in spruce, builds fire, tries to fix leg best he can. -Asks, "Where go?" I say Armistice. We start. Blizzard comes; grub -goes. Can't find cache. May be we get through chewing -leather,--maybe not. - -Can't make Avic as O'Malley's strangler. Gentle as a woman with me. -He's not under arrest, but trying his darndest to get me back to -post. If blizzard holds, neither of us will. Maybe this reach you -some day. - - Respect., - C. LA MARR, - Constable R.C.M.P. - - -Returning to the improvised hospital to ask a question or two needed -to fill in gaps in the report, Seymour found Moira sitting beside the -bed, stroking the fevered brow with her strong, white hands. She -raised one in caution. The patient was asleep. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE SKEIN TANGLES - -Partial explanation of Avic's queer behavior came next morning from -the Eskimo himself. After breakfast, but before Moira had arrived to -undertake her tour of nursing La Marr, Seymour brought the suspect -out for examination. The Huskie beat him to the first question. - -"When we go?" - -Remembering that this identical inquiry had been last voiced by the -native the previous afternoon, the sergeant surmised that it must -have some significance. - -"Go--go where?" he asked. "Where do you expect to go, Avic?" - -The Eskimo made a sweeping gesture in a southerly direction. "Up big -river," he mumbled gutturally. "See all world. Ride in smoke wagon -on land, same like steamboat on water. Live in stone house, big as -mountain. Good grub. Long sleeps. Warm like summer all time." - -"And why should all that good luck come to you?" Seymour demanded. -"Who's been putting such fool ideas into your head?" - -Avic looked puzzled. There were words in the sergeant's questions -that were new to him. The officer was about to simplify his query -when the native blurted out the desired information, evidently -sensing that some support was needed by his expectations. - -"Nanatalmute boys, she kill white man. Red policeman take boys on -long trip. Treat her fine, them boys. Stay away two, three -freeze-up. Come back big mens." - -Seymour groaned inwardly as he grasped the reference. The -Nanatalmutes were the Eskimo who roam the Arctic foreshore to the -west of the Mackenzie River. Some years ago an abusive trader had -been killed by two youths of the tribe. The authorities of that day -decided they should be taken "Outside" for trial. The court -developed certain extenuating circumstances which resulted in -penitentiary sentences for the pair. In prison, they learned to -speak English and were given mechanical training. At term's end, -they were returned to their band in this land of "midnight suns and -noonday nights." - -Theorists held that the two would spread a respect for the white -man's greatness and power--that their tales of punishment would make -the land safe for the interlopers of another race. The effect, -Seymour well knew, had been different. The Nanatalmutes had reported -that they had been royally treated. They described the wonders of -provincial cities, the thrills of the railway travel, the surprising -warmth, the palatial house in which they lived and countless other -details that had impressed their childlike minds. Almost, did this -mistake of the Law put a premium on white murder, so great was the -envy of the two who had turned punishment into signal honor. - -So this was Avic's motive for the murder of young O'Malley! Seymour -had the native's word that he expected a trip "Outside." The only -implication was practically an admission of guilt. - -The sergeant knew that procedure had changed. Courts now were sent -into the farthest North and trials held at or near the crime's -locale. Conviction in Avic's case would more likely mean a hanging, -with his fellows looking on, than a pleasure jaunt anywhere. But of -this he did not speak. Even this practical admission from the native -did not convince him that the Huskie alone was responsible for the -killing. His own deductions from the situation in the hut were too -well grounded and vivid. - -"When we go?" Again came the query from the eager native, this -repetition sharpened with impatience. - -"Not soon," answered Seymour with a shrug; then suddenly turned the -inquiry. "Where did you get those fox skins you show to the factor?" - -"Avic trap foxes--black and silver," came the ready answer. "Avic -fine hunter--ver' best." - -"When did you take them from your traps?" - -Seymour considered this question vital. He was convinced that the -skins had been cured many months before. If the native lied about -this, he would feel certain that his sense of mystery had not been -misplaced; that there was more behind the murder than Avic's desire -for a trip into the outside world. - -The Eskimo did not answer at once. He seemed to be counting back. -The sergeant gave him his time. - -"Not count weeks and days," he said at last, "Avic trap 'em when the -sun go away and the snow comes." - -"You mean just after this winter began?" Seymour wished to guard -against any misunderstanding. - -"This same winter. Avic cousin wife fix 'em plenty. Avic bring 'em -to post. Much travel better than trade-barter from store, so not -sell. When we go?" - -The sergeant did not press the inquiry at the moment. There was a -long, long winter ahead of them in which he hoped the whole truth -would out. - -Several practical reasons decided his next move. He put both of the -accused natives under open arrest. Cell room at police quarters was -at a premium and food of the sort the natives required was difficult -to prepare in a white man's kitchen. The health of the prisoners, -which must be his concern until the court had passed on their guilt, -was certain to be better if they lived under native conditions. -Friends and relatives were more than ready to take them in for -sustenance allowance he granted each. After making them understand -that they were not to leave camp under penalty of his wrath, he -turned them loose--a parole, it may be said here, that was not broken. - -The happiest weeks in Russell Seymour's memory were those that -immediately followed. With his lone constable bedfast, his presence -at or near headquarters was required unless some dire emergency rose. -For once, he thanked his lucky stars that nothing happened to break -the joyous monotony. - -For a week, Moira, in her role of nurse, spent most of her days at -the post. While she was kindness itself to La Marr and anticipated -most of his wants, there was no doubt that her real interest was in -the sergeant. A close friendship sprang up as they found many -interests in common and exchanged life stories with endless detail. -At that, each had their mental reservations. Nothing the girl said, -for instance, threw any light on her real reason for making her -unseasonable and unexpected northward dash. And his lips never -hinted that he was hopelessly in love. - -In holding back, however, the girl had every advantage over the man. -She did not need word of mouth to tell her the state of his feelings. -Indeed, her worry was over the promptness of her own heart, as she -confided to Emma Morrow. Was propinquity disturbing her judgment, -and isolation distorting her viewpoint? She feared a mistake that -might make them both unhappy in the future. With a tact that at -times made her feel cruel both to him and herself, she held the -situation level with the spirit of friendship. - -Her attitude was made easy by the more active wooing of Harry -Karmack. The handsome factor was not held back by any sense of -poverty, which is felt perforce by anyone who had little but his -police pay, a far from princely dole. Karmack was as persistent as -circumstances and Moira would permit; quite too impetuous, in fact, -for the comfort of one whose interests were divided. - -For a time, the girl was put to it to keep the two apart. When they -both "made" Mission House at the same time, she felt that she was -spending the evening in a TNT factory. While the men never actually -clashed physically, she felt certain that only Seymour's military -discipline kept them apart. At last, she was forced to put them on -schedule, giving each two evenings a week, but with understanding -that they were not to come even on their assigned nights unless she -previously sent them word. The need for such an expedient could -scarcely arise "Outside," but she saw no other way out of the -difficulty in Armistice, unless she was ready to undertake a -"for-better-or-worse" decision. And out of this situation grew -Russell Seymour's greatest despair. - -The first of his evenings arrived, but no summons from the Irish -beauty. The next afternoon, with Mrs. Morrow, she dropped in at -police headquarters to cheer the convalescing constable. She chose a -time when she must have known the sergeant was afield exercising the -police team of malamutes. Also, according to La Marr, she had not -been indisposed the previous evening. - -A second of Seymour's scheduled visits passed into the discard of -time with no word from her, and then a third. Being an exponent of -direct action, Seymour decided to learn the reason for this sudden -change which, to him, was unexplainable. He made certain she had not -started on her daily snow-shoe sprint about the camp, an exercise of -which she was fond and at which, for a girl, something of an expert. -Mid-afternoon, he presented himself at Mission House. Luke Morrow -admitted him; carried his request for an interview. - -More anxious than he dared to admit, even to himself, the sergeant -waited, his fingers crunching the fur of his cap as he paced the -living room. Even before Morrow spoke on returning, he knew the -beauty's thumbs were down. The missionary's expression was too -sympathetic for any answer. - -"Miss O'Malley asks that you'll excuse her, sergeant," was his formal -report. - -"Is she ill?" - -"Not physically, I'm afraid." - -Seymour was too dazed for his pride to come into action. To be -turned away without a word didn't seem fair. What's more, it wasn't -at all like Moira O'Malley. Surely he had the right to know his -fault--his crime? - -"Thunderin' icebergs, Luke Morrow! Tell me what I've done to be -treated like this?" he demanded. - -"I'm sure I can't imagine, Russell." - -"Does Madame Emma know?" - -The sky-pilot shook his head. "Moira has not mentioned your name to -either of us since the last evening you spent here." He hesitated a -moment. "She does know at last that her brother was murdered--that -such was the accident of the Arctic we reported to her." - -"Then she thinks I'm responsible for trying to soften that ordeal?" -Even as he asked, however, he felt certain that there must be -something more of a misunderstanding than that. - -"I took full responsibility for our not telling her the full -details," said Morrow. "You'll remember I first suggested----" - -"Then Karmack must have----" - -He did not finish, but flung himself out the door. Before the -missionary could utter a word of caution or advise moderation, -Sergeant Seymour was plowing the trail for the Arctic's establishment. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -HARD KNUCKLES - -If it is true, as Kipling says, that "single men in barracks don't -grow into plaster saints," it is doubly true of the same in lonely -detachment shacks of the Royal Mounted scattered about the Arctic -foreshore. Living week upon week with the thermometer at the -breaking point, with the momentary sun blackened out for days in -swirling snow, with a sameness of grub that fairly gnaws the -appetite, the wonder is that they carry through with even members of -their own outfit. - -Suddenly mix in with this condition of life an attractive, -unattached, unexpected white woman and you have a yeast more potent -than dynamite. Let some outsider stir the mixture with the ladle of -false witness and surely the dough overflows the pan. - -As he descended upon the trading post and the tricky factor, Russell -Seymour was scarcely a staff non-com of the Royal Mounted. For the -moment he was simply a he-man who happened to be encased in the -king's scarlet. Even as he was accustomed to express regard for the -rights of others, so was he ready to defend his own. A dangerous man -for the time being and one with an initial advantage over Karmack, -for Seymour's nerve was backed by morality and right. - -He did not trouble to knock on the door of the factor's living -quarters, but yanked at the latch-string. Finding no one in the -comparatively luxurious living room, he stamped into the store, a -low-ceilinged 36 x 24. Along one wall were shelves on which were -displayed the "junk" that goes to make an Arctic trader's stock. -Protecting these notions, generally more than less unsuited for -customer's use, was a counter. From the ceiling along the other -wall, depended the furs and pelts that had been taken in barter and -not yet baled for shipment to the marts of trade where women would -pay whatever price the market exacted that they might adorn -themselves. - -Harry Karmack was there, gloating over some fox skins just taken at a -fraction of their value from one of the Indian hunters who had come -up from the South. If he was surprised at the unannounced visit by -way of his living quarters, his face did not betray it. It was a -perfect mask. - -"You've been making yourself quite a stranger, sergeant," he said, -his tone pleasant enough. "It's the very devil what a havoc woman -can make of man-to-man friendships up here in the Frozen North. Is -it possible you've come to whimper at my success with Moira--Miss -O'Malley, the finest woman----" - -"Not to whimper, Karmack," Seymour cut in. - -"Best take your medicine, sergeant. As a mere Arctic cop, on next to -nothing a year, you never had a chance to be anything more to her -than an entertaining decoration. From now on, you won't even -decorate." - -Under this insult-to-injury, Seymour held himself with his stoutest -grip. - -"I came," he declared with an ominous outward calm, "to learn just -what you said to Miss O'Malley when you broke our pact of silence -about Oliver's murder." - -"Oh, I said just that--told her as gently as possible certain facts. -It was high time she knew. Did you expect me to ask your august -permission after what has happened?" - -The factor put away the pelts he had been examining on Seymour's -entry and, with casual manner, came from behind the counter. On the -open floor of the store the rivals faced each other. - -"You told her more than the facts in this case, Karmack," the -sergeant said, his words dragging with earnest emphasis. "I'm here -to know what you said and know I will--even if--I am compelled to -bash you up." - -Karmack laughed harshly, perhaps to show a confidence which he just -may have felt, knowing how long-suffering the Mounties are by hard -training and practice. - -"Threatening violence, eh?" said the factor with a sneer. "Thinking -of using your police power to repair your shattered romance? Dear -eyes, what a blooming bone to pull!" - -"I'm not here as a policeman and I'll lay aside the tools of my -trade." - -Unhooking the belt that held a holstered revolver to his hip, he -placed the accouterments upon the counter at the end nearest the -front door. Beside them he laid a "come along," a small steel -article with chain attachment useful in handling refractory -prisoners. With his long arms swinging loosely at his sides, he -strode back to face the factor. - -"Now, Karmack, what else did you tell the girl?" - -"Perhaps I showed her how careless kind you are to Avic, named by the -coroner's jury as her brother's murderer." The handsome factor was -enjoying himself. "Of course it would be likely to please her, -seeing the only suspect yet named wandering about the camp at will, -living in idleness on your bounty, likely to slope off into the snows -and never be heard from again." - -"The Eskimo is under open arrest--regular enough under the -circumstances. I'll stand----" - -Seymour caught himself. He did not need to defend his official -conduct to this trouble maker. Moreover, he felt that Karmack must -have gone further with his insinuations. The matter and manner of -Avic's custody might have carried the girl to him in protest, with -demand for an explanation; but it was not enough to have brought -about an utter break without a word. - -"Let's hear the rest of it, Karmack--the whole damnable -misrepresentation." Fingers twitching beside the yellow stripe of -his trousers showed his tension. - -"Perhaps I told her about the foxes--the silver and black!" The -factor's tone was triumphant. - -Seymour's expression was too well schooled to betray any surprise at -this unexpected thrust. "What about the fox pelts?" - -"They disappeared, didn't they, most mysteriously? They were in the -hut when you left it under seal the night of your return and Moira's -arrival. The hut still was sealed when you took the coroner's jury -there the next day, but the pelts were not. The jury never saw them. -That's what about the fox pelts." - -Seymour's lips were as white as the freshly drifted snow outside and -his voice as cold as the temperature when he asked what the factor -meant to insinuate. - -"Perhaps the kindest interpretation for you," Karmack began with -gloating insolence, "is that those fox pelts are buying an easy -winter for Oliver O'Malley's slayer with an ultimate get-away in the -spring. In other words, Seymour, you're a disgrace to the uniform -you wear--the first I've ever met with. You're a low-down, grafting -bribe-taker and to show you how I respect----" - -Instead of finishing his tirade, the factor flashed out with his -right in a vicious upper-cut. Seymour sensed rather than saw it -coming. Having developed a cat-like quickness, he might have dodged -and let the blow slide past; but preferred to take it on his jaw of -iron. He needed, he felt, the sting of it to release for the -deserved punishment of his detractor all the latent powers within his -rangy frame. - -At once, the hard-knuckled mill was on--a furious battle of males, -for this session, primitive males. Science, if either of them knew -aught but the rough and tumble tactics of the outlands, was forgot. -Blows were exchanged with a rapidity that must have been beyond the -scoring of ring-side experts had there been any present. In the -States, thousands pay their tens of dollars to see fights that were -so little like this one as to seem primrose teas. There was nothing -gentle about it. Not until Karmack sprawled his length on the rough -board floor was there the slightest breathing space, unless you'd -call breathing the insucked breaths between clinched teeth that -sounded more like exhausts from wheezy locomotives. - -Seymour stepped back to give the factor time and space to rise if -fight still was left in him. Great as was his provocation, he -insisted on fighting fair. That there are no rules for -rough-and-tumble made no difference to him. He couldn't hit a man -who was down. - -Karmack came up with a surprising show of strength, his eyes gleaming -dangerously. One of these the sergeant closed with a body-wrecking -jolt. In turn, he was knocked heavily against the counter. The -sharp edge of this caught him across the small of the back, a -terrific kidney blow. The surge of pain seemed to open the hinges of -his knees. - -At that vital moment, when he must have been hard put to keep his -feet in any event, the factor fouled him with a vicious kick on the -shin. It was inevitable that Seymour go down. In falling, though, -he managed to lunge his body forward, gaining a clutching grip on his -opponent's torso, and carrying him along. - -There on the floor they rolled over and over like a couple of polar -bears in deadly combat. First one and then the other was on top and -in position to jab. Claret splotches marked their irregular course. -Fingers tangled and untangled, now in the factor's black mop, then in -the sergeant's brown one. The latter's uniform was tattered; the -factor's tweeds were shredded. Punishment, however, was well -distributed and the battle, so far, a draw. - -But this winter, Karmack had held close to his store and spent long -hours with his pipe; Seymour had roamed the open and seared his lungs -with the vital air of the North. In the end, this difference which -leather-pushers know as "wind condition" told its tale. The factor -was rasping when the Mountie was still breathing with comparative -ease. Longer and longer on each turn was the policeman holding the -uppermost position. - -Suddenly Karmack, underneath, ceased violent struggles. It seemed he -had weakened. - -"Had 'nough?" demanded Seymour. "Ready to tell the girl the truth?" - -For answer, he felt the press of steel against his ribs. He realized -in a flash that the factor had drawn a gun from some handy -concealment and that his seconds probably were numbered unless he -rolled instantly out of range. - -Roll he did just as the pistol growled. - -The bullet grazed a button from his official tunic, then thudded into -the plasterboard that covered the log wall. Next second, with a -bone-breaking wrench, he twisted the weapon from the trickster's -fingers. Scrambling to his feet, he threw down upon his opponent, -meaning to cover him, just as the front door of the store was thrown -open. - -With the rush of icy air from without came a shrill feminine cry more -startling than any previous happening of the contest. - -"Don't shoot!" was the command that followed. "Don't you dare shoot, -you uniformed brute!" - -Seymour turned to see Moira glaring at him from behind an automatic -pistol of her own, a blue-black little gun that was held as steady as -a pointed finger. The sky-pilot up at Mission House was a pacifist, -the sergeant knew. Doubtless he had told the girl the direction his -anger had taken him. - -"At last I believe," the girl went on, passion in her voice, but not -the slightest waver in her aim. "Well chosen was the name I gave -you, Sergeant Scarlet!" - -The stress she gave her nickname for him startled Seymour. "Just -what do you mean, Moira?" he asked, keeping one eye upon the prone -factor who seemed as startled by the intrusion as himself. - -"That I've found the murderer of my brother and don't propose to see -him claim another victim." - -So that was what Harry Karmack had told the girl. That was why the -light of her wondrous eyes had gone out for him. Any added hate of -his enemy that might have grown from this was lost in her statement -that she believed. To make certain that she considered him guilty, -he put the direct question. - -"After what I've just seen--on top of all that was pointed out to -me--I'm forced to believe," she said brokenly. "Go, before I take a -vengeance that is not mine to take, but the Law's. Go--go!" - -As broken as the gun he flung at Karmack, Sergeant Seymour gathered -up his sidearms from the counter and stalked out of the Arctic's -store room. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE SCARLET SPECIAL - -Ten days after the battle between the sergeant and the factor, the -quiet of Armistice camp was again upset, this time most unexpectedly -by the arrival of the "scarlet special." A corporal of the Royal -Mounted breezed in by dog team over the frozen wastes from far-away -Athabaska, the end of rail gateway of the North, where English to -some extent gives place to Cree. - -That he brought no mail--beyond a sealed order bag for Sergeant -Seymour--showed that the special's visit was as sudden as a telegram. -But he did carry a late newspaper or two and several magazines that -gave week-by-week gists of the world's news since Armistice last had -heard from "Outside," so his unexpected arrival was more than welcome -to the whites in the camp. - -To the disappointment of Corporal Gaspard Le Blanc, the short, plump -but doughty French-Canadian who had made the remarkable trip, Seymour -was not at the post. The morning after the fight, a report had -reached the detachment that a band of Eskimo on Skelly River were -destitute. With Constable La Marr still convalescing from his -accident, the sergeant had set out to investigate. His return was -expected any hour of any day. - -As the orders were sealed, the corporal to open them only when -assured that something had happened to the ranking non-com to whom -they were addressed, there seemed nothing to do but wait. - -Factor Karmack was the first to call at headquarters. He met with a -cold reception from La Marr, who naturally had sided with his -superior on learning of the aspersion put upon the Force by the fur -trader's insinuations in the O'Malley case. - -"I hear there's a special in from outside," began the factor in his -blandest manner. "Hope he had a good trip." - -"Aye, not so bad," returned the constable, as communicative as a seal. - -"By any chance, did he bring any mail for me?" - -"Nothing but police business,--this special." - -If Karmack was disturbed, he took pains not to show it. - -"But surely he brought some newspapers. Might I borrow----" - -"I'm sending a spare paper over to Mission House," was the chilly -response. "You'd best go there for your news, Karmack." - -The factor made as graceful an exit as any one could have asked, -nodding pleasantly to the newly arrived corporal. Familiar with the -usual fraternity of life in the land of bared boughs and grieving -winds, the genial Gaspard expressed surprise. - -"What the hell how is?" he asked. "You gots something on that crow, -_non_?" - -"I don't like him," was all La Marr replied, not caring to bare his -superior's heart troubles even to one of the Force. - -The corporal, steeled against prying into personal affairs, asked no -further questions. The two spent the day pleasantly by the open -fire, which Avic--the prisoner under open arrest--kept replenished, -it happening to be his week for headquarters fatigue duty. - -At four in the afternoon, Sergeant Seymour mushed in, tired and worn -from his long errand of mercy. This he had solved by moving the -improvident band to another camp of natives who were well supplied -with food, the usual procedure in a country where it is impracticable -to move relief supplies in mid-winter. - -His first glance at the features of the corporal, who turned out to -help him with the dogs, acted as a cocktail that banished all -fatigue. A strange Mountie in quarters could mean only excitement of -some sort and that was the most joyous tonic the sergeant knew. - -Scarcely did he wait to peel off his trail clothes, so eager was he -to break the seal of the dispatch bag. It held but a single sheet of -orders--a dispatch from the commissioner himself dated at Ottawa more -than five weeks before. With the two subordinates looking on in an -interest that dared not be put into question form, he read and reread -the message. The second scanning thereof snapped him to his feet. - -"When did you arrive, corporal?" he asked. - -"This morning--early." - -"Said nothing about what brought you, I hope?" - -A smile flicked the ruddy Canadian face and the French shoulders -shrugged. "How could I, when I know not why they sent me on such a -mush of the devil?" - -"Karmack was here asking for mail--for the loan of papers," added La -Marr. "I told him to go to Mission House for his news." - -"Good enough," nodded the O.C. and started getting into the uniform -which he wore when at the detachment. In his absence the tunic had -been made fairly presentable, with few traces of his clash with the -factor. "I'm going out for a prisoner," he said at the door. "You -boys sit tight." - -Straight across to the store of the Arctic Trading Company he -stalked, but to meet with disappointment. Both the store and -dwelling of Karmack were locked. Even the native interpreter was not -to be roused. But the sergeant remembered what the constable had -said about going to Mission House for newspapers. Doubtless, the -factor was there, reading what had happened in the all-alive world -since last report. It would not surprise him to find the four making -a news feast out of the unexpected boon--reading aloud in turn every -morsel of type, even to the new advertisements. He quartered to the -house of the Morrows. - -"Safe home again, Seymour," Luke Morrow greeted him and dragged him -hospitably into the living room. "It is well, but I wish you'd been -a day sooner." - -Seymour did not trouble to learn what the missionary meant by his -concluding wish, but asked at once if Karmack was calling. - -The missionary shook his head, his expression one of genuine surprise. - -"Sort of expected to find him--reading papers brought in by special," -explained Seymour. "La Marr said he had sent some over to you and -told Karmack to come here for the news." - -"Why--but--" Morrow was disturbed to a point of stammering distress. -"The factor was here this morning, but he had news of his own. -Didn't he leave the keys to the trading post with you police?" - -Seymour in his turn, was aroused. "The keys! Why should he leave -his keys with us?" - -"He came here shortly before noon," explained the sky-pilot. "Said -the scarlet special had brought him a summons to Ottawa that could -not be denied. He meant to ask you people to take charge until his -relief arrived. His years of pioneer service in the North had been -rewarded at last, he told us, and he was to be made a high official -of the Arctic at the Ottawa headquarters. Naturally, we rejoiced -with him." - -"The nerve of the scamp!" exclaimed the sergeant. "The only word the -special brought was a warrant for his arrest. He has been robbing -the company for years and they've just found him out--got the proof. -I came to arrest him. He must have surmised that the coming of the -special meant only one thing and decided to make his get-away. And -howling sun-dogs, this warrant I hold is a secret one! No general -alarm has been sent out. Can I see Miss O'Malley--perhaps he's told -her something of his plans? In the interests of justice, after she's -seen the warrant, I'm sure she'll not protect him, much as she -dislikes me." - -The missionary seemed stunned. He bent over in his chair and cupped -his hands over his eyes in an attitude of prayer. - -"Good Lord, forgive us for our sins of omission," Seymour heard him -murmur. "We are but mortal and the flesh of all mortals is weak. -How were we to know----" - -"Here, here!" interrupted the sergeant impatiently, although he had -respect enough for prayer. "It's not your fault that Karmack got -away or that you let him use Mission House in his courtship. You -good folks couldn't have known he had done anything wrong. Send for -Miss O'Malley at once. I've no time to lose." - -Luke Morrow forgot his supplications for pardon and sprang to his -feet. "No time to lose. You're right. That scoundrel was -persuasive and we were weak. Karmack took Moira with him, offering -her safe conduct to her friends and home in British Columbia. We'll -never forgive ourselves for----" - -But Sergeant Scarlet was gone in too great a hurry to close the door -behind him. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -LIVING TARGETS - -Like a Windigo hoodie of the sub-Arctic on the trail of a craven -Cree, Sergeant Seymour pushed through the white silence in pursuit of -his fugitive. If the capture of Harry Karmack, embezzler, spurred -him officially, the saving of Moira O'Malley from the fate that -seemed in store for her lent wings to his snow-shoes. To himself he -did not deny the fact that the personal interest was the most potent. -There would be weeks and weeks, if required, to run down the -dishonest trader. Didn't the Royal Mounted always get their man? -But there were only hours, he sincerely believed, in which to spare -the most beautiful feminine creature he had ever seen a lifetime of -humiliation and grief. - -This was no night for travel. All the rules of Northern trails -forbade it. With the spirit thermometer down to sixty-five below, he -should have been snugly in camp in some snow bank, wrapped in -rabbit-skin robes or encased in a sleeping bag, with his malamutes -snuggled around him. The spirit within that enabled him to defy the -inexorable grip of the frost was the same that had not permitted him -to delay pursuit's start an hour. - -Frankly, he would not have gone out that night after Karmack had the -rascal been escaping alone. Considering the factor's passenger, -however, nothing could have kept him at the Armistice detachment post. - -There action had been swift once he had the fell news from Luke -Morrow. At quarters, he had turned over the post to Corporal Le -Blanc. He was to keep the Arctic company's trade-room and furs under -seal; to do no trading except that which the welfare of visiting -Indians and Eskimos demanded. Hardship might be worked if the -trusting natives came in to exchange their furs for supplies and -found no mart. The two Eskimo murderers were to remain under open -arrest unless they displayed signs of wanderlust after his departure. -La Marr was to take no chances with his injured leg, the corporal to -make such patrols as were absolutely necessary. Thus, like a good -commander, he prepared for the all-too-many eventualities of winter -travel. - -Morrow had followed him to police quarters almost at once with an -offer of the Mission House malamutes for the stern chase--stern in -more than one sense of the word. Knowing that both the police teams -were worn out--the one of the scarlet special and the other of -mercy's errand--Seymour had accepted the mission's team, although he -preferred always to drive his own dogs when they were in the least -fit. - -From Morrow, he had details of Karmack's morning visit which had -resulted in Moira's unfortunate decision to attempt to go "Outside" -under his escortage. Karmack had said he meant to take the shortest -course to the Mackenzie on the frozen surface of which he expected to -find a more or less traveled trail. He would be delighted to have -Moira's company. She could drive her own team and would find it easy -to follow his own huskies. They would have the Arctic's interpreter, -a famous musher, to break trail and keep them on the right track. It -would be an express trip, he had declared, and she would find herself -with her friends before she knew it. - -"Emma and I tried to dissuade her from taking the chance," the -missionary had told Seymour with tears in his voice, "but the -temptation was too much for the girl. We assured her she would be -welcome to spend the rest of the winter, but she wanted to depart the -scene of the tragedy." - -At the moment, Seymour had wondered how much her ill-founded -disappointment in him had affected her decision. And this thought -kept recurring to him now as he followed the double sled trails. It -clinched his determination to overtake them at the earliest possible -moment. - -Fortunately there was no wind to-night and he had nothing to contend -against but the bitterness of the cold. He was traveling "light" -with caribou pemmican, hardtack and tea as the major contents of his -grub sack. The mission dogs were running as if out for an exercise -jaunt; but the air was too frigid to permit much riding for their -driver. Often he had to hold them back that he might not become -absolutely winded. - -Already he had proved one lie in Karmack's statement to the girl and -the missionary, as reported with undoubted truthfulness by the -latter. The fugitive was not headed directly for the Mackenzie -River, the natural highway "Outside." That would have taken him by -the Wolf Lake trading and mission station. Even in the night, the -sergeant recognized the ridge they were following and that there had -been a sharp veering to the south-west. The course would bring them -to the river far from any outpost and doubtless Karmack, if he got -away, would continue to avoid all such on the way up river until -certain he had out-distanced any pursuit. - -The possibility that already the girl regretted her hasty decision to -leave the Morrows occurred to him as a possible reason for Karmack's -change of course. If she had threatened to give up the attempt upon -reaching Wolf Lake, the factor, naturally, would give the other -missionaries a wide berth. But cheering as was the idea, he soon -dismissed it. Moira O'Malley was not the sort to turn back on an -endeavor, and it was improbable that there had been any alarming -overtures from Karmack so early in the wild project. He was clever, -was Handsome Harry, and, by his own boast, experienced with women. -He would wait until he had completely won her by the countless -services that would crop up on a trip of this sort. All the more -reason, then, for Seymour to overtake and capture before they got -beyond reach of return to Armistice. Again and again his goad of -caribou hide snapped near the ears of his team. The panting animals -flattened their bodies while he rode the sled in defiance of the -frost. - -Soon after break of day, belated in this latitude and season, came -his reward. In the course of the night's sled run he had worked out -of the bare tundra country of the foreshore into a region splotched -here and there with brush. Now he saw rising from one of the clumps -ahead a spiral of smoke marking someone's breakfast fire. - -No difficulty was there in guessing whose fire--not in the Great -Barrens! Evidently, from the distance covered, Karmack had driven -far into the night, but, none the less, did not mean to be deprived -of an early start on the second day of his dash for freedom. - -Seymour dragged the mission dogs to a halt a mile away from the -fugitive's camp. When rival teams meet on the snows, they dash at -each others' throats with a chorus of yowls and all the strength of -their respective masters is required to keep them apart. The -sergeant expected to be engaged otherwise than clubbing malamutes -when he got to that breakfast fire. - -Accordingly, he untraced the team and chained them to the sled in -such a way that any attempt to move that vehicle on the part of the -animals leashed to one side would immediately meet with resistance of -the dogs on the other side. Such an anchorage he had tried before -and proved effective; in fact, it is about the only one possible in -the open snow-fields. - -Tossing each of the seven in the team a frozen fish, he removed his -_parkee_, exposing to ready grasp the revolver at his hip. From its -deer-hide case, he unlimbered his rifle as a precaution against being -"potted" in case his approach was discovered at too great a distance -for small-arm accuracy. Then he moved swiftly forward, the tails of -his "webs" leaving a wake of flying snow. - -Evidently, the three of the flight party were at breakfast, for he -bore down on the temporary camp without alarm. Soon he was near -enough to hear the dogs of their two teams snarling over the morning -meal. Noting that they were tethered between him and his objective, -he circled for a safer approach. - -Almost was he upon the camp when he saw Karmack departing in the -direction of the dogs. Easily could he have picked off the accused -embezzler with his rifle. But---- - -"Never fire first!" - -With the real slogan of the Royal Mounted he admonished himself under -his breath. - -Nearer over the crunching snow he crept on that clumsy-looking but -most effective footgear which man may have adopted from the snow-shoe -rabbit. Now he could make out the front of a pup tent, doubtless -thrown up for the protection of the beauty of the party. Koplock, -the Arctic's interpreter, could be seen packing utensils for the -start. The girl was not in sight. - -Two minutes more would have brought him into camp and everyone under -cover of his rifle. Then, from out of the tent, came Moira, facing -him! - -He heard her cry out; could not determine whether from surprise at -the unexpected appearance of a human stalking out of the white -solitude or as a warning to her companions. - -Of these, Karmack whirled at first alarm, but the native did not look -up from his task. Evidently the factor recognized the unwelcome -visitor, for he started back with a rush, drawing his automatic as he -ran. - -"Never fire first!" the voice of training whispered as the sergeant -hurled himself toward his foe. - -Karmack's pistol barked. A bullet whizzed past the policeman's ear, -a narrow miss but as good as a mile. - -Now came the King's turn. Upward to his shoulder swung the gun with -which Seymour had won many a target match. In a second, it seemed, -Karmack must bite the snow. - -But the gun never was fired. Into direct range between the two men, -Moira O'Malley had flung herself, a tall, fur-clad figure. The human -target of the scoundrel momentarily was blanketed. What mattered it -that the school girl of Ottawa was pointing an automatic as steadily -as she had held it upon him in the trade room that time back in -Armistice. Sergeant Scarlet could not fire upon an innocent woman. - -He barely saw a whiff of smoke leave the mouth of her pistol, -scarcely heard what seemed a double report, when a burning sensation -along one temple and across the side of his scalp threw him backward -to a fall on his side. - -And as he toppled into the snow, to lie inert and helpless, it seemed -to him that the glorious girl lunged forward to the same cold couch -that was his. - -Was it possible that, by some involuntary pressure on the trigger, he -had fired at Moira O'Malley? In the paralytic clutch of the moment -he could not answer the heart-burning question. - -Consciousness must have fled Seymour's mind for just a moment. With -its return, he realized that Karmack was shouting excited orders to -Koplock, the interpreter. Haunted by that last glimpse of Moira -tumbling forward into the snow, the sergeant tried to raise himself -for another look over the tragic stage. Only his brain seemed awake; -body muscles refused to respond to its demand. He could only lie -there, staring into the dingy, low-hung sky, and listen. - -"Very bad affair this one, boss," he heard. - -The voice was Koplock's and the conversational tone, which carried -through the frosty stillness plainly, indicated that the interpreter -and the factor stood together. - -"The red-coat killed her firing at me, you can see that and swear to -it, can't you?" Karmack demanded. - -"But no, Meestair Karmack," came from the native. "She is hit from -the back. It was your bullet that lay her low. Koplock swear to -nothing but the truth." - -An imprecation sprang from the factor's lips, but scarcely registered -with the listening sergeant. He was too filled with rejoicing that -no involuntary shot of his had struck her down. - -"It don't matter," he heard Karmack grumble. "Go have a look at the -policeman. If only she killed him----" - -Seymour heard the crunch of snow-shoes; knew that the native was -coming toward him. What should he do? He was convinced that his -wound was only a "crease"; hoped that the muscular numbness would -pass. To feign death under the native's inspection was his first -impulse. - -But to that plan, several objections immediately presented -themselves. The mission-schooled Eskimo would be hard to deceive -with no more convincing evidence than a bullet graze. Again, there -was no telling how long the paralysis that gripped him would -continue. No one could lay out in to-day's temperature for any -length of time without freezing. - -He recalled that Koplock had always shown a dog-like devotion to him; -undoubtedly was grateful for the fees which Seymour had paid for his -services as interpreter for the government. Certainly the native was -greatly disturbed by what had just happened. To throw himself on the -Eskimo's mercy held some risk but more chance of ultimate safety than -attempting to play 'possum. - -In the moment of the bronze man's crossing, the sergeant had argued -this out and come to a decision. - -His eyes were closed when Koplock stood over him and touched his body -with the toe of his muckluck. The native stooped for a close -examination of the head wound. Seymour's eyes opened, his lips moved -in a whisper. - -"Stand by your king," he said. "Tell Karmack I'm dead, but don't go -on with him." - -Koplock assented with a wink and quickly straightened. - -"Him passed out," Seymour heard him call to his employer. "Center -shot." - -"Not so bad," came the unfeeling response from the factor. "That's -what he gets for edging into my affairs. Come here, you." - -The sergeant heard the native shoeing back and then came the -calloused instructions of a hard-pressed fugitive who could not -afford to lose his head in such an emergency. - -"I must mush on with my dogs," said Karmack. "Take the girl back to -Armistice on her sled. Tell them--oh, make up any story you like; -you'll do that anyhow. I'll be where they'll never get me." - -"What do with him?" Koplock asked, pointing toward Seymour. - -"The cop--let the wolves bury him." - -Five minutes or so after Karmack's "Mush--mush on!" had signalled his -continuation of flight, Koplock again was at the side of the sergeant. - -"Him very bad mans, that Factor Karmack," he said as he began a -vigorous massage of Seymour's limbs. For a moment he worked -vigorously to restore circulation and the officer was able to reward -him by twitching his fingers. - -"Big joke, this on Karmack," went on the native, chuckling gutturally. - -"Where's the joke with Miss O'Malley dead?" Seymour demanded, as the -Eskimo turned him over to knead his spine. Koplock was too much -engaged in his operations to reply readily, then: - -"The most big joke him is Miss O'Malley she am not dead but just some -hurt like you." - -The effect upon Seymour was magical. Power returned to his muscles -as suddenly as it had departed from them. Of his own will, he turned -over and sat up in the snow. With the Eskimo's aid, he got to his -feet. He glanced anxiously over the battle scene, but could see -nothing of the beloved figure. His eyes put the question. - -"Koplock carry her to tent," answered the native. - -"Good boy, Koplock!" - -Slowly, for his legs were numb, and with the native's grip to steady -him, Seymour walked to the tent. There the girl lay wrapped in a -rabbit-skin robe, gazing open-eyed at the roof, upon her flushed face -an expression of surprise, as if she did not understand just what had -befallen her. - -"Thank heaven you're alive!" cried the Mountie, staring down at her, -his eyes brimming with tears of rejoicing. - -"You--you!" she murmured. "Where is Mr. Karmack?" She seemed afraid -and her wide eyes accused him cruelly. - -Seymour sat down beside her. "After nearly murdering you, _Mister_ -Karmack has continued his flight," he said. "You and I will thrash -this out once and for all, Moira. The wound of his shot in your back -will have to wait until I've cleared your mind of certain -apprehensions." - -She turned from him, but he felt certain that she would listen. -First he assured her of his great liking for her brother, a mutual -regard, he believed. Then he recounted every pertinent detail of the -brutal strangling with the Ugiuk-line, not forgetting the evidence of -the two too-well-curried fox pelts. Frankly, he set forth Karmack's -jealous motive in casting her suspicions upon himself. Her own -misinterpretation of the scene she had interrupted in the trade room -was contended with a convincing account of the entire struggle, -ending with Karmack's attempt to shoot him. To prove the factor's -real reason for flight, he read her the warrant which the "scarlet -special" had brought from Ottawa. - -"And to-day," he concluded, "while trying again to kill me, he shot -you instead." - -Slowly the girl turned her averted gaze. With a glad throbbing of -heart, he saw she was convinced. - -"And I believed--a thief," she mourned. "I started for the provinces -with him that I might the sooner have the law on you. My heart told -me--why, why didn't I listen--that it could not be you. Oh, Sergeant -Scarlet, can you ever forgive me?" - -"Forgiven already--and forgotten, all but Karmack's devilish part," -he assured her. - -Now, for the first time, the girl noticed the gash across his scalp. -"But you--you're wounded. How----who?----" - -"It's just a scratch," said he cheerfully. "Knocked me out for a -bit, you know, but all right now. The how and who don't matter. -Suppose we see how slightly you're hurt?" - -Koplock stood in the tent door with a pan of boiling water, heated at -Seymour's orders. The sergeant took this from him and sent him to -bring in the police team. Then, with deft fingers, he set about an -examination of what proved to be a shoulder wound. - -To his great relief, he found that the bullet had gone entirely -through, leaving a clean bore through the muscles, with no need for -probing. The girl's coma, so like death as to deceive the excited -factor, evidently had been from shock. Applying a first-aid -dressing, he bundled the injured shoulder against the cold. - -Koplock, with fingers none too gentle, looked after Seymour's own -injury and bandaged it with material from the police emergency kit. -Then they gathered brush from the thicket and built a rousing fire -before the tent. - -That they would make no attempt to move that day was Seymour's first -decision. The girl, he felt, needed rest after the shock of her -wounding more than immediate attention from one with more surgical -experience than he possessed. Whether to take her back to Armistice -or across country to Wolf Lake required more consideration. The fact -that there was a missionary surgeon at the lake who had more skill -than Luke Morrow finally decided him. Moreover, by going to the -trading post, he would be much nearer the frozen highway of the -Mackenzie over which his pursuit of Karmack must continue. - -In the afternoon, as they lounged in the tent with the genial warmth -of the brush fire playing upon them, Seymour broached one of the -mysteries of the eventful winter. - -"Mind telling me, Moira, what brought you on this wild, unseasonable -dash into the North?" he asked her. - -"It was fear, Sergeant Scarlet--fear for my brother." - -He was surprised. "You mean that you had a premonition that -something was going to happen to him?" - -"Not that exactly," the girl amplified her first response. "There -was a motion picture I chanced to see in Ottawa. It was a dreadful -thing called 'The Perils of the North' or something like that. The -young man in the picture, away from all of his own kind--well, you -know what might happen. He became a--a squaw man. I got to thinking -of Oliver. He had dashed off while I was on a visit in Montreal and -hadn't even said good-bye. There was nothing really to keep me in -the cities and I decided my place was with him. That was why I came -and not in time----" she broke off with a sob. - -Sergeant Seymour assured her that her apprehensions of her brother -becoming a squaw-man were absolutely unfounded. A cleaner specimen -of young Canadian, he declared, had never fared to the Arctic -foreshore. But he did not tell her, then, the real reason behind -Oliver O'Malley's ill-starred venture. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -HIS MONTREAL PROMISE - -The scene in the rotunda of Montreal's impressive Windsor Station was -as lively as it was metropolitan. Trains arrived with their -outpourings of passengers, baggage laden, rejoicing at journey's end -in the Paris of Canada. Immigrants, queerly dressed, stood about in -huddled groups, waiting to be herded into the cars that would carry -them to the wheat lands of Saskatchewan or the green forests of -British Columbia. "Red caps" bustled about with the expensive -looking luggage of tourists bound back to their own United States -with their thirsts, for once, thoroughly quenched _sans_ any -violation of law. - -At one gate to the train shed, an explosive Frenchman bade a tearful -farewell to a brother ticketed for Winnipeg. At another, behind a -brass guard rail, a tall, upstanding citizen waited with impatience -the coming of the Ottawa express. His fur coat was unbuttoned and an -open-faced suit of evening clothes showed beneath. In fact, even his -oldest friends in the far North might have passed him by without -recognizing Staff Sergeant Russell Seymour, on special detail. - -The hunt for Harry Karmack, embezzler of the funds of the Arctic -Trading Company, Ltd., of course, had not been given up. This was -Seymour's "special"--and would be until the fugitive was apprehended, -as is the way of the Royal Mounted. Even a report brought to Fort -McMurray by a wandering Chipewyan that the factor's body had been -found frozen at the foot of Ptarmigan Bluffs had not halted the -search an hour. The Indian's story was too "pat"; the last -lost-in-blizzard note signed "Karmack" too obvious a plant. - -A blizzard there had been, to be sure, a stem-winder. Just in time -to escape the white scourge howling South, Seymour had mushed into -Wolf Creek Station with his precious invalid. But he could not -believe that the Armistice factor had permitted himself to be caught -in the storm. Too long had Karmack been in the North to meet any -such tenderfoot fate. An old trick, that of reporting one's self -dead by freezing. The thief might have saved himself the expense of -hiring the Indian to bring in the "death notice," for all it was -believed. - -This blizzard had held Seymour at Wolf for three endless weeks. -There had been just one recompense. At the end of that period the -mission surgeon had pronounced Moira sufficiently recovered to -continue her trip by dog team. The weather had favored them and -eventually they had found themselves in Athabaska, end-of-steel! The -trains of the Canadian National and the Grand Trunk Pacific had -carried them to Ottawa, the girl to a welcome in the home of friends, -the sergeant to report at headquarters. - -After a conference with the commissioner, Seymour had stepped out of -uniform and into plain clothes. The still-hunt then begun had -continued for three months, leading first to Quebec whence Karmack -had originally hailed. There the sergeant had obtained information -which confirmed his disbelief of the lost-in-blizzard note. Karmack -had paid a stealthy visit to his old home and departed. Rumor had it -that he had gone to the States. Therefore, Seymour did not cross the -border to look for him. Knowing the man and his inclinations, the -sergeant's hunch was Montreal. From a rented room on City Councillor -Street, midway between the French and Up-town quarters of the city, -he had played his hunch industriously, but so far without result. He -had kept away from the mounted police headquarters on Sherbrooke West -and not once had he been taken for what he was, even by fellow -members of the Force. - -He was growing tired of the city's confinement, but not discouraged. -One day he would meet his man, know him no matter what his disguise. - -This was to be a night off, the first he had taken since getting back -to civilization. It was to be a gala, reunion night; and it was -beginning, for the Ottawa express had just ground to a stop in the -shed outside the high iron grill. - -His pulse beat quicker as he scanned the in-comers--first the -smoking-car compliment, then the day-coach passengers and, at last -the Pullman elect. Then he saw her, coming with the poise of a -queen, a small black bag in her hand. Neatly he hurdled the brass -barrier and at the very gate he took her into his arms and kissed her. - -"Moira, Moira! You're a glad sight for tired eyes," he murmured. - -"But not here, Sergeant Scarlet; not here with the world looking on," -she whispered in pretended protest. - -He did not care how much of the world saw, for between them an -understanding for life had been reached on the trail. - -A taxi, its wheels wearing chains with which to grip the snowy -streets, hustled them to the Mount Royal Hotel, where he had reserved -a room for her. In less time than most men would have believed -possible, she had rejoined him in the lobby, a vision fit to -snow-blind the gods, gowned in shimmering silver with a black fringe -setting it off. - -Evenings with Moira were too precious to leave anything to chance and -Seymour's program had been carefully prearranged. Again they took a -taxi and the taxi took them out St. Catherine Street to a brilliant -electric fairyland--the Venetian Gardens. What mattered it that snow -never lies in the streets of Venice? Well might they have been in -sunny Italy once they had climbed a flight of stairs to pleasure's -rendezvous above. - -As they entered the huge dancing room, the lights went low and the -orchestra that doesn't "jazz" began the soft measures of a waltz. -They did not wait to find their table, but swung away with the -music--for their first dance together. - -And when they were seated, she asked across the narrow board: "Do -they teach dancing, as well as riding and straight-shooting, at the -Regina depot, Sergeant Scarlet?" - -"You're forgetting, you big beau'ful Irisher, that I've been to -France since I left the Mounted's riding academy." - -After they had danced again: "It's hard to wait, Russell. Sometimes -I wonder if it's worth while. Will you ever get your man?" - -On the frozen trail, after he had spoken the three magic words and -she had returned them to him with equal fervor, they had agreed that -marriage was not to be thought of until Harry Karmack had been -brought to book. - -It was a long moment before he answered. - -"I've got to get him, Moira. There'd not be complete happiness for -us with that business unfinished. You wouldn't want to change a fine -old County Mayo name like O'Malley for that of a quitter would you, -now? But know this, girl o' mine----" - -He did not finish, his interest claimed by a large red-headed man, a -bit the worse for liquor. This chap's attention had been attracted -by a pair of police constables, resplendent in their brilliant -uniforms, handsome young fellows attached to the Montreal detachment, -which has a reputation for "swank." - -"Take those young Mounties a bottle of wine and mark it down on my -check," the rubric one was saying to the waiter. - -The woman with him, a pretty French girl, reached across the table in -an effort to quiet him. - -"You leave me alone, Florette," he resented. "I got most all the -money in the world and those brave lads work for next to nothing a -year." - -"Next to nothing a year." Seymour repeated the expression under his -breath. Where had he heard that expression before as applied to the -same Force which yonder cubs decorated? In a flash he was -transported back to the trade-room of a sub-Arctic factor. - -"But know this, girl of mine," Seymour repeated. "Get him I will." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -A DOUBLE-BARRELLED CASE - -Sergeant Russell Seymour of the Royal Canadian again was -mounted--actually astride a horse with spur at heel and a fine feel -of leather between his knees. The best part of the continent -separated him from the Montreal fairyland and the regal beauty in -whom his ambition and hope lay centered. - -An exigency of the service--the policing of the mushroom gold camp -which he was approaching--had been responsible for the sudden shift -of action's scene. Not that the hunt for the Armistice embezzler had -been forgot or abandoned, but with the idea that a cold trail might -warm if left alone for a while, its crossing effected when least -expected. - -The problem at Gold, British Columbia, was so large a one that the -authorities had overlooked no advantage. The fact that Seymour had -never seen service in the province presented the attractive -possibility of his making a preliminary survey in plain clothes, -severely plain, in truth--as plain as stained khaki, scuffed leather -and battered felt could materialize. - -The fact that the region was that selected by Moira's father for his -missionary activities and that she proposed soon to join the parent -did not make the summer prospect less attractive for the big -policeman. The lovely creature riding beside him, however, was not -the Irish girl but another he had overtaken entirely by chance. - -"Of course," he was saying to her, "it wouldn't be a worth-while gold -rush if there wasn't plenty of crowds and excitement. Do you think -I'm in time?" - -"Oh, there's still a chance for you to locate a pay claim--if luck's -riding with you," she said cheerfully. "Scarcely a day passes -without someone reporting a new 'discovery.' But you're just three -days too late for our first real excitement. One of the B.C.X. -stages was held up and robbed last Monday." - -Almost did the sergeant give himself away at this crime report. In -more ways than his fair informant could possibly imagine, he felt too -late. - -At a recent conference in Hazelton, a railroad town on the Grand -Trunk Pacific, Assistant Commissioner Baxter, in command of the -division in which the new diggings lay, had decided that the sergeant -should remain incognito until he had had opportunity to study the -field of his new important command. In the role of one of the -gold-crazed "rushers" the news of the camp would float unrestrained -in his presence. He should be able to get an advance line on those -who were prone to lawlessness, as well as identify the element which -might be counted on the side of law and order. Moreover, he could -form an unbiased opinion as to the prospective permanency of the camp -and the number of constables needed to police it satisfactorily. - -He had shipped a "war bag" containing his uniforms and personal -effects by the stage line of this same British Columbia Express which -the girl had just mentioned. The charges were prepaid and the -baggage was to be held until called for. Then he had set out on a -rangy police horse, Kaw, over the Old Sun Trail, a time-blazed path -into the Yukon country, from which a cross-cut had let him into -Argonaut Valley. - -"Did the robbers get--make their escape?" he asked, remembering in -time to cut the professional tone from his question. - -"Clean as a whistle. They killed the driver at the reins so there -isn't a clew even to what they looked like or how many there were." - -"But the passengers?" he ventured to ask. - -The girl shrugged shapely shoulders. The face that looked from -beneath the shielding brim was framed in ash-blond wavelets. The -figure that had looked so boyish from a distance, while he was -overtaking her, was now rounded into exquisite feminine lines. Her -corduroy riding trousers were frankly worn without hint of a skirt, -but her gray flannel shirt was V'd at the neck to show a marble -throat such as no boy could have endured. And in the belt that -pouched a man-weight automatic was the final touch--a small bouquet -of waxen snowflowers. - -In answer to his question she told him that there were no passengers -in the coach. "It was the inbound baggage wagon they held up, you -see--doubtless by mistake." - -As he pondered the unusual circumstance of road agents mistaking a -baggage wagon for a passenger-carrying coach, they were startled by -gun fire. Seymour's expert ears placed it a short distance ahead and -to the right of them--a bit nearer town. He recognized the snarl of -a rifle and, a moment later, the bark of a pistol. Unquestionably, -the reports had come from different weapons. - -A half-stifled scream drew his attention to the girl at his side. -The effect on her was surprising. She could not have showed greater -alarm if one of the bullets had perforated her hat. Every trace of -color had fled her cheeks. - -"Oh, that it's just some hunter and not----" - -If she finished her prayerful expression, Seymour did not hear it, -for she had dug heels into her horse and the animal was skimming the -trail. - -Kaw took after the cayuse full tilt; his rider, the while, listening -for other shots, but heard none. Ahead, he saw the girl round a -sharp turn into what seemed to be a through road into town. If she -was seeking the source of the shots they had heard, he knew she need -not go far. - -When his black negotiated the turn and the road was spread out before -him, he saw that she had arrived. Her horse stood nosing another and -she was kneeling in the trail beside an indistinct figure. In a -moment he had dismounted and stood beside her. - -"Too late," she cried, looking up at him with a terrified expression. -"If only I hadn't slowed to chat with you--I feared they would get -him and was riding to warn him. I thought there was plenty of time -to get to town before he started." - -She did not blame him for the delay; seemed only to accuse herself. -For the sergeant, there was enough of surprise in the figure of the -slain man to occupy his mind and eyes. - -"Who--who is he?" he asked after staring a moment. - -"He's our new mounted police officer, Sergeant Russell Seymour," she -said, her voice hushed. "Don't you know the uniform when you see it?" - -Seymour did recognize that particular uniform far better than she -possibly could have imagined, but he refrained from admitting it. - -Reaching down, the sergeant raised the girl to her feet; but he did -not set her right on the mistake in identity. The case looked -double-barrelled to him inasmuch as it gave him an inside line on the -holdup of the express company's stage and a lead toward at least one -element of the heterogeneous camp which was opposed to the coming of -the Dominion's law-bringers. He meant to handle both angles with the -utmost effect and the fact that they existed must for a time remain -his secret. - -"Looks like murder," he said, his eyes leaving the stolen uniform and -focusing on the wound, the clean hole of a steel bullet in the right -temple. - -"It is murder--from ambush," the girl declared, her voice sharp with -conviction. - -But Seymour was not so sure. Without disturbing a convulsive death -grip, he examined the revolver held in an outflung hand. It had been -discharged once. - -"'Twasn't a complete ambush, anyway," he reasoned. "He had some hint -of what was coming. Couldn't have drawn his gun after that bullet -hit him. The way my ears read the reports, he fired just after the -rifle spoke--probably a spasmodic pull on the trigger with no aim or -hit. You know, Mounties are not supposed to fire first. The rule -has killed a number of them." - -"He was so brave--absolutely fearless," she murmured. - -Seymour might have gone further in reconstructing the crime, but he -checked observation on the subject lest she suspect his training. - -"You knew him well, Miss----Miss----" he asked, partially to divert -her mind from his professional deductions. - -"I'm Ruth Duperow," she told him. "My uncle is a missionary here." - -At once he remembered Moira's description of the colorful cousin who -was keeping her father company. The contrast in type was remarkable. - -"Yes," she went on, "I knew the sergeant quite well and admired--both -my uncle and I admired his courage and uprightness." - -"You said his name was----" - -The girl's frankness did not desert her. "His real name was Russell -Seymour but we knew him first as Bart Caswell. You see, he has been -here for a month, studying the camp without anyone suspecting that he -was not the mining expert he pretended he was. Not until the stage -robbery did he disclose who he was and put on his uniform." - -Seymour turned to hide a smile; the plan which the girl outlined as -Bart Caswell's sounded so exactly like his own. When he turned back -to her, his hand was stroking meditatively a clean shaven chin. - -"Is there a coroner in Gold?" he asked. - -"When a man was killed in a shaft cave-in on Sweet Marie Creek last -week, a deputy acted before uncle read the service," was the girl's -information, delivered with a frown. The reason for the contraction -of brow appeared when she added "That deputy sheriff and coroner is a -chump named Sam Hardley, and he didn't like Bart--I mean Mr. Seymour." - -The real Seymour made mental note of this fragment without seeming to -be impressed or more than casually interested. - -"At that, Hardley will have to be notified, I suppose," Miss Duperow -went on. "It's the law, isn't it?" - -The sergeant nodded. "Something of the sort. But first I'm going to -have a little look into the brush to see--what I can see. Mind -waiting for a few minutes?" - -"Don't risk it," cried the girl, taking a step toward him and laying -an impulsive hand upon his sleeve. "Whoever murdered Bart may be -lurking in the brush and wouldn't hesitate to take a shot at you. -You don't know how desperate the----" She broke off in sudden -caution and finished inconsequentially: "One killing is enough for -to-day." - -"A killing too many," he assured her, but swung into the saddle. -"I'll take no unnecessary chances, and I'll not be gone long." - -With the girl's disapproving look following him, he rode into the -underbrush to the left of the trail. From that direction, he -figured, had come the bullet. He had small hope of any encounter. -With the cowardly attack neatly turned, he could conceive no reason -why the perpetrator should hide around the scene of the crime. There -was a chance, however, that he might pick up the trail of departure -and learn its trend before the camp's amateur sleuths got busy and -blotted out all signs. - -On superficial survey, it seemed to the sergeant that the bogus -officer had been riding out from town on some mission not entirely -unsuspected by those against whom he meant to act. Near the trail -forks, someone had lain in wait and killed him. - -One shot had sufficed. Caswell's effort to answer undoubtedly had -been futile. Then the slayer had slunk away in the brush. It seemed -unlikely that he would go into town; entirely reasonable that he -would return whence he had come. Seymour imagined that that would be -the place for which the pretended Mountie was bound, were that ever -determined. That the escape had been through the brush seemed -likely, since nobody had passed them on the trail after the shooting. - -Twenty yards into the brush, he set Kaw parallel with the trail that -followed the River Cheena. The undergrowth was not too thick for -riding if one watched for fallen trees and devil-club thickets. The -ground, soft from recent spring rains, took tracks like putty. An -Indian in moccasins might have passed without leaving a trail, but -any booted white must have shed footprints like Crusoe's man Friday. - -Soon, the officer picked up horse tracks so fresh as to be still -sucking moisture from the muskeg. These angled toward the trail over -which he had followed Miss Duperow. He traced them back to a clump -of poplars. There he found evidence that a horse had been tied, -evidently having been ridden from the main trail. - -Footprints coming and going testified to a round trip in that -direction. He examined these with care. In measuring these with a -lead pencil, for lack of a tape, he noted the impress of a peculiar -plate on the side of the right sole. Either the wearer was slightly -lame or possessed a gait that made it advisable to reinforce the -outer edge of his boot. - -The foot trail ended in a patch of salmonberry bushes, already in -thick leaf and furnishing an ideal curtain. Groping about where the -earth was beaten down, he soon discovered a copper cartridge case. -His eyes sized this as having been thrown from a 30-30 Winchester, -the same sort as that his saddle carried, one likely to be common in -that region. Undoubtedly the dented case had held the steel nosed -bullet that had ended the career of the crook who had dared -impersonate a Mountie. - -When Seymour stood erect, he saw he was head and shoulders above the -bramble screen, in plain view and easy range of the tragedy scene. -Doubtless in the very spot which he occupied, the murderer had stood -erect to fling a taunt or shout a false warning at the approaching -horseman; then he had shot before the other could act. - -The circumstances of the crime reproduced to his own satisfaction, -Seymour squandered a moment in studying his partner of the trail, his -scrutiny unsuspected by the fair object thereof. - -Ruth Duperow stood uncovered, her hat hanging from the horn of her -saddle. The sun played upon the unmeshed waves of her silver-gold -hair, bringing out unnumbered glints. She was taller than he had -thought, almost as tall as her cousin, Moira. Her face was buried in -hands that rested on the saddle seat, her poise slumped and heavy -with grief. - -"Poor youngling," mused the sergeant in deep sympathy. "She's taking -it hard. These gentlemen crooks sure raise Ned with the ladies. -Knowing that her uncle was a missionary, this Bart would not be at -loss what trumps to lead. Reckon his blossoming out in my scarlet -just topped the bill. Must have cut quite a figure in life, this -Bart Caswell--or whatever his real name was. Handsome dog, too. No -resemblance to me." He turned away with the hope that someone else -would have the job of telling her the murdered man himself was a -criminal. - -Regaining his horse, Seymour mounted, minded to follow the hoof-print -trail for a way. This was child's play; Kaw attended to it, leaving -the sergeant free to peer ahead. Meantime, his mind was busy -revolving the surprising facts with which chance had equipped him. - -He saw no need for mental doubt over the stage robbery. The uniform -in which Bart was clad unquestionably was the dressier of the two he -had enclosed in the bag and shipped to Gold. The "E" Division had a -new tailor, a mistake had been made in stitching on the insignia and -trace of the change remained on the sleeve. Even had there been -other members of the Force in the district, he would have sworn to -that uniform. He had not a doubt that the handsome deceiver of -Cousin Ruth either had held up the stage single handed or had -participated in the crime. - -He could not agree with Ruth Duperow that the road agent, or agents, -had mistaken the express vehicle for one of the passenger coaches in -use on this difficult line. That did not stand the test of reason, -any more than did a supposition that the robbery had been for the -sake of obtaining the uniform of a mounted police officer. No one -possibly could have known that such a rig was in transit. At best, -the authority which any spurious wearer might command, must be of -brief duration for the owner could be counted on to follow his -clothes. The risk was not worth the fleeting advantage. - -The sergeant did not have to argue himself into a conviction that he -must seek elsewhere for the purpose of the holdup. Some other -shipment--just what, he meant to find out--that was coveted and worth -taking chances to secure must have been expected. He believed that, -in examining his loot, the robber-murderer had come upon the uniform -and had decided to use it in some other bold stroke without the law. - -The sergeant could not withhold admiration for the daring which the -man who called himself Caswell had shown in his last hours of life. -To put on the trusted and feared uniform, to declare himself the -representative of Dominion authority and to undertake the solution of -his own crime was a coup as clever and novel as it was impudent. Had -the culprit stopped there, he might have made a clean get-away with -whatever else of loot the stage carried. Seymour concluded that the -prize which had made him resort to murder must be of great value. He -did not overlook the possibility that Bart might have been slain by a -pal dissatisfied with the division of the spoils. But, in view of -hints dropped by Ruth, he was inclined to believe that this morning's -slaying had no connection with the B.C.X. crime. The girl, after -all, was his best source of information. - -Just as he was about to turn back and question her further, the horse -tracks he was following broke from the bush into the switchback trail -and were lost. At once he swung Kaw around for the return canter. -Shortly he overtook his own pack cayuse faithfully plodding in -pursuit, and took the animal under halter, that it might not become -confused at the crossroads. - -At the turn, he saw that a group of men had gathered about the -lifeless figure of Bart. A freight wagon drawn by three yoke of oxen -had been stopped near by and reins dropped on four or five saddle -horses. But he looked in vain for his companion of chance. Ruth -Duperow and her mount were gone. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -UNDER SUSPICION - -None of the usual greetings of the Northern trail were offered -Seymour as he rode up to the group. Instead, he found himself the -target for a battery of frowning glances. The men presented a stolid -front of frigid scrutiny. The probability flashed upon him that, as -the first stranger to reach the scene, he was under suspicion in -connection with the crime. - -The sergeant stopped his horse and was about to dismount when there -was a movement among the men. A short, stout man, from whose ample -belt dangled a small cannon of a revolver, waddled forth to stand -before him. - -"What's happened?" asked Seymour quickly deciding to say nothing of -his previous visit. - -"That's what we're goin' to find out," said the fat man in that -shrill small voice with which humans of undue girth often are -afflicted. "Who're you?" - -This question was as natural as Seymour's own, but the manner in -which it was asked put him on edge. And since Bart had appropriated -his name along with his uniform, he could not answer truthfully -without laying himself open to a further explanation than he proposed -to make at that moment. - -"As for that, who're you?" he snapped back. - -"I'm Deputy Coroner Samuel Hardley." The speech was pompous; so was -his turning back of a coat lapel to exhibit a nickle-plated badge of -office. "I'm also deputy sheriff and represent the law of British -Columbia in Gold." - -Seymour had suspected his interrogator's identity; was ready with his -"Glad to meet you, chief." - -"And I've got authority to make you answer my questions," piped the -deputy. "Where you from and what's your business?" - -"From the Caribou country by way of the Old Sun trail," Seymour -answered truthfully enough. "There's my outfit." He jerked his -thumb over his shoulder toward the pack horse which stood with -prospector's equipment in broadside view. "That tells you what my -business is." - -"Be ready to prove it. What you know about this murder?" - -The sergeant wished he knew just how the Duperow girl stood in this -matter. Probably, for reasons of her own, she had gone on before any -of the town party had arrived--possibly because she had heard them -coming. If any of them had seen her, it seemed evident that she had -not mentioned his participation in the discovery, or that he was -beating the bush on the case. Yet, after all her seeming frankness -and her keen personal interest in the victim, why had she "slid out." -Since he could not answer that mental query, he decided on reticence -in answering the deputy's spoken one. - -"I don't know anything about it," he replied with no appreciable -delay, although without accenting the "know," as he should have done -in strict truth. - -"Queer you should come ambling along with Seymour of the Royal -Mounted lying in the road not yet cold," grumbled Hardley. "Yes -sir-ee; it looks right queer to me. I think I'd better take you in -on suspicion." - -Seymour bore down on him with a most direct glance, the blue of his -eyes almost black in their intensity--black as the ears of Kaw -between which he was forced to look for exact focus. "And I think -you'd better do nothing of the sort--on suspicion. I'm a Canadian -citizen; I have and know my rights." - -The sergeant, of course, was running a sheer bluff. The provincial -officer might have placed him under arrest; but to suffer detention -was not in Seymour's program, for relief from it probably would -require the disclosing of his identity at a time when he felt he -could work more to advantage under cover. In the brief moment of -their roadside controversy, he had "sized" his man and believed him -one who would yield to a stronger will without other than ocular -demonstration. - -But he did not have time to prove his estimate of Hardley. Aid, or -interference--whichever way one looked at it--came from an unexpected -quarter. - -"The stranger's right, Sam," spoke a handsome, blond-haired chap -whose look of intelligence recommended him to Seymour as above -average. "You haven't any call to arrest him just because he -happened along a public trail at an unlucky moment. Far as that -goes, you might better arrest yourself." - -"What you driving at, Phil Brewster?" demanded Hardley, breaking away -from the stranger's gaze and turning on his fellow townsman. "Are -you hinting that I had any hand in sending 'West' one of his -majesty's officers?" - -"You was jealous of him," put in an old man with a twisted face; the -driver of the oxen, if one could judge from the goad upon which he -leaned. - -"And sore as a pup when you found he had been here a month without -your suspicioning," contributed another townsman. - -Evidently Hardley was not surrounded by any picked posse and was none -too much respected as the peace officer of the community. - -Relieved to be out of the calcium, at least for the moment, Seymour -swung from his horse and crossed the road to look at the body of -Bart, the natural move had he really been stranger to the tragedy. - -The deputy chose to ignore the jibes of his neighbors. But he -renewed his demands upon Brewster for an interpretation of his -insinuations, reminding him he was no "bohunk freighter" to be talked -to as an ox. - -"Oh, I don't think for a minute that you kicked off the staff -sergeant," the handsome chap began to explain. To the real Seymour, -listening, came a creepy feeling at the use of his name in such a -connection. "I was just using you as an example to show your hasty -methods with this stranger," Brewster went on. "You were sitting in -your saddle and staring down at the remains when I rode up from the -creeks. But I didn't suspect you of firing the shot or even of -knowing anything about it." - -Hardley looked somewhat mollified. - -"But Sam was jealous," persisted the ox-driver. - -"Stop your noise, Cato!" shrilled the deputy. "There was a perfectly -good reason for my being first on the scene. I saw the sergeant ride -past my shack all uniformed-up and looking as if he meant business!" - -"More'n you'd know how to look," goaded Cato, playfully prodding the -deputy with one of his inordinately long arms. - -"Want me to bash you up?" Hardley demanded, irritated; then went on -with his explanation. "For reasons best known to himself and beyond -my ken, now never to be disclosed to mortal understanding, Seymour -hadn't been taking me into his confidence either before or after -uncovering himself. It wasn't good policemanship on his part, I'll -say, but I'm big enough of a man----" - -Cato's crackling laughter interrupted. "Big enough, I'll say--but of -a man?" he burst out. - -"Anyway, I figgered I knew the breed of wolves up the creek better -than he did and that he might need help. You know Sam Hardley's gun -is always ready. So I saddled up old Loafer there and took out after -him, prepared to lend a hand to law and order as was my sworn duty." - -There was further exchange among the Goldites--theories regarding the -new crime, gratuitous advice for the fat deputy, speculation -regarding its effect on the outside reputation of the camp. Glad -that interest had shifted from himself, Seymour listened -subconsciously. - -Suddenly his attention was claimed by a decoration which had not been -on the uniform when he had at first scrutinized it. Into the breast -opening of the serge coat was tucked a spray of snow flowers. - -"Her last tribute," his thoughts whispered. "And an ill-considered -one if she has any reason for not wanting her little world to know -that she first discovered the crime." - -It was unlikely that the imposter had been anywhere that morning -where he could pluck flowers which Seymour knew to grow only in the -deeper gulches where the packed snow of winter resisted the thaws of -spring to the last. The wearing of the nosegay was so out of keeping -with the character that Bart had assumed as to attract attention. -The sergeant wondered that the men arguing behind him had not already -noticed and questioned its presence. - -Kneeling ostensibly to tie a bootlace, he rectified the girl's -mistake by plucking forth the flowers and tucking them into an inside -pocket of his coat. The others, although approaching, evidently had -not noticed this deft appropriation. Ruth Duperow's connection with -the tragedy was her secret unless later she wished to take the camp -into her confidence. - -"It's a cinch that these two killings are linked," Hardley was -shrilling to all ears within range. "When I get the man that killed -the sergeant, I'll have the man that shot the B.C.X. driver; and, -vice versa, if I get the man that killed the stage driver, I'll have -the one that shot the sergeant." - -"Which one do you calculate to get first, Sam?" asked Brewster, -straight-faced as an undertaker. - -The pudgy deputy stared at him in momentary suspicion, then took the -bait. "Cato the Ox might be excused a fool question like that, Phil, -but I'd have thought you'd be wise to vice versa. Don't you see, -man, that these murderers are one and the same?" - -"Then I'd advise you to throw down on that one and the same quick as -the Almighty will let you," said Brewster. "The Mounties will be -riled to the core over the killing of one of their own; they'll swarm -in here like flies as soon as the news gets out." - -The mining camp's deputy coroner was obviously disturbed by this -logical counsel. Although the morning was not warm, he whipped out a -saffron-colored handkerchief and mopped his brow. Evidently that -ministration did not satisfy for he took off his hat and polished his -pate, which was disclosed to be as bald as an eagle's. - -"'Spite your astonishing ignorance in some things, Phil, you -sometimes show a glimmer of sense," he said at last. "I was headed -right in the first place. I've got to make some arrests and have the -victims ready for the Mounties when they come swarming." - -His eyes, while delivering himself of this pronouncement, had fixed -on the sergeant. - -"Victims--you said it," offered Seymour in calculating defense. -"Some arrests. I suppose you'll make a bunch of them. Well, start -in with me and bring in lots of company. You might as well make the -mounted police plumb disgusted with you while you're about it." For -a moment he watched Hardley squirm under this obvious scorn, then -added: "Isn't a coroner's inquest the first of orderly procedure in a -case of this sort? If you get a verdict from a jury, you'll have -something to stand on when--when the Mounties come." - -Hardley embraced the offering found in Seymour's sudden change from -scorn to a practical suggestion. "I'll have an inquest with all due -respect to the law, just as soon as we can get the late -staff-sergeant into town," he shrilled. "See that you stick around, -stranger. There's no telling at who the coroner's jury will point -the finger of guilt." - -Seymour nodded agreement. From official experience, he knew that -there was no telling. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE "WIDDY" IN GRAY - -In the slipshod procedure of Deputy Sam Hardley the professional -policeman had an illustration of why the force of which he was a -member was needed to supplement some county peace officers of the -Dominion. Although the fat official undoubtedly believed a -commissioned officer of the mounted police had been murdered in cold -blood while in the pursuit of duty, his handling of the ease proved -most perfunctory. There was no close study of the immediate -surroundings; not even a beating of the bush to determine the point -from which the fatal shot was fired. - -The fact that the victim's revolver had been fired once was noted, -not by Hardley, but by the citizen addressed as Phil Brewster who, it -developed, operated a freight packing business between Gold and the -creeks. Doubtless, the tragedy of the express driver had been -handled with similar carelessness, and this unlucky Bart Caswell -given every opportunity to launch his daring impersonation. - -About all that Hardley did was go through the pockets of the uniform -while one of the crowd made a list of contents as they were produced -and placed in a large handkerchief. There was a wallet meagerly -supplied with small bills, a pocket knife, a ring of keys and a briar -pipe--not any of which were familiar to Seymour. But there was in -addition a certified copy of his own commission as staff-sergeant of -the R.C.M.P., which had been in the war bag, and a sheaf of official -blanks. These proceeds of the search were knotted within the -handkerchief and deposited in Hardley's pocket, presumably to be -handed over to the Mounted. - -Soon, the waiting freight wagon was impressed into service as a rude -catafalque. With the horsemen in procession formed behind, the -cortege headed for the near-by camp. Its pace, at least, was -funereal, thanks to oxen deliberation. - -Once into the main street, Seymour found a semblance of permanency in -the town. The establishments of two rival trading companies were -built of logs and surprisingly fronted by show windows. The one -hotel, in distinction from several bunk houses, had two stories, with -a false front atop the second. Seymour noted also a restaurant, a -chop house, a pool hall, several "soft" drink emporiums--all of rough -board construction. - -A shack of slabs, roofed with cedar shakes, crouched beside the hotel -and supported the sign: - - OFFICE OF SHERIFF - GOLD BRANCH - OFFICE OF CORONER - - -Evidently it was from the door of this that Deputy Coroner Hardley -had seen the imposter set out on his fatal ride. - -Near this shack stood the temporary post office which divided a store -room with the records of the mining recorder. The First Bank of Gold -occupied a tent with a wooden floor. For the reassurance of -customers and for the information of all, this tent wore a banner on -which was painted: "Our palatial permanent home is under construction -across the street." Glancing in that direction, the stranger saw a -structure of corrugated iron, awaiting a roof. - -Gold, at this season of the year, was a night town, so the streets -had been practically deserted as the small procession entered. Even -though most of the population was at work up the creeks, there was -something of an outpouring into King Street as the news of the -shooting spread. - -Some fifty men and a scattering of women gathered to mill about the -freight wagon soon after the oxen were halted before Hardley's shack. -From the vantage of his saddle seat, Seymour studied their faces as -they received the news, but caught no trace of any emotion that -interested him. All seemed genuinely shocked; none, too deeply -moved. He heard many express regret over such a drastic blow at the -law. If any rejoiced, they did so secretly. - -Deputy Hardley consulted with important citizens, identified for -Seymour by the one nearest his stirrup as the bank manager, the camp -doctor, and the principal realtor. Presently the deputy shrilled an -announcement that in his capacity of coroner he would swear a jury -and hold an inquest at one o'clock in the uncompleted bank building. - -The freight wagon, its somber burden covered with tarpaulin, was -drawn to a position at the rear of the unfinished structure, which -was open where workmen were laying a heavy flooring for a vault. The -townsmen, their curiosity satisfied, began to disperse about their -mundane affairs. - -In turning Kaw to be about his own, Seymour came face to face with -Ruth Duperow, who evidently had just reached town and at speed, for -her mount was puffing. The color of excitement was high in the -girl's cheeks. But no hint that she ever had seen him before came -from the young woman who, within the hour, had been so solicitous of -his welfare as to try to keep him from entering the brush in search -of the murderer. Her eyes did not avoid his; they simply did not -know him. - -Having administered this puzzling cut direct, she focused on the -gallant figure of Brewster who rode alongside her, his handsome face -alight with undoubted admiration. - -"What has happened?" Seymour heard her ask. - -"Your dashing sergeant-of-staff has been murdered." Brewster's reply -was fittingly low. - -The girl's eyes flashed angrily. "Terrible! I must say you don't -seem greatly distressed, Mr. Brewster, and I'll thank you not to -connect me with the poor brave man by saying _my_ sergeant." - -"You've been seeing so much of this Bart person, Ruth, you hadn't had -any time for your old friends. Of course, I'm sorry for the way he's -been put out of the running, but----" - -"That 'but' does you small credit. Who do you suppose----" - -"Hardley hasn't decided yet." Seymour caught the flicker of contempt -in the freighter's eyes. "Better come and have dinner with me at the -hotel; this isn't our tragedy." - -Her displeasure seemed increased, and she gathered her reins. "I -wouldn't think of it," she said with decision. "I must carry the -dreadful news to uncle." - -Whirling her horse, she dashed away up the road over which she had so -lately come. - -"Some actress, but why?" murmured Seymour. - -There were several why's that the sergeant found it necessary to -consider. Why had she cut him at their second meeting? Why had she -feigned entire ignorance of what had happened? He could only hope -that the same answer would serve for all--that she had acted so in -the hope of being more free to work out a solution of the mystery as -to who had killed Bart. - -It was evident from Brewster's complaining attitude that the imposter -had paid Miss Duperow enough attention to arouse the handsome -freighter's jealousy. And Brewster had misplayed his hand by -allowing his feeling to crop out at such a moment when he should have -shown the murderer's detection and punishment to be his chief -interest. He now stood staring up the street after her, looking -utterly discomfited. - -Dismounting, Seymour led Kaw across the street and joined Brewster, -who snapped out of his mood upon being addressed. The information -the sergeant sought was pleasantly given. - -The stranger undoubtedly could get a room, such as it was, at the -Bonanza Hotel. Brewster himself lived there. The "eats" weren't -much, but he could take pot-luck at the restaurant. If his room -wasn't airy enough, he could get ample ventilation by poking his -finger through the partitions. He'd find the stables "around back." -There was no telegraph office--yet, and no radio. Yes, the camp was -a little slow in catching up with the times. The next mail would go -out in the morning. - -"Guess I'd better tell that suspicious deputy where I'm stopping," -Seymour remarked when duly posted. - -Brewster laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't mind Sam -Hardley, stranger. By now his mind is loping along some other line -of suspicion. Better come to the inquest, though. With Hardley in -the coroner's seat it will be better than vaudeville." - -The sergeant did attend the inquest in the unroofed bank building, -where the workmen had "laid off" for the "event." That he did not -find it as amusing as Brewster had promised was not entirely due to -the queer feeling that came with every mention of his name as that of -the central figure. He writhed at the official flounderings of -Hardley, who made an exhibition of a jury which, under sensible -direction, would have proved competent. - -Seymour had heard strange coroners' verdicts before, but that which -this fat deputy sponsored was a prize-winning oddity. Hardley read -it aloud: - - - "We, the jury in this murder case duly impaneled, do and now - hereby report that Staff-Sergeant Russell Seymour of the Royal - Mounted Canadian Police, in the pursuit of duty in the proximity - of Gold, B.C., did come to an untimely death to the regret of - this afflicted law-abiding community. - - "We, the jury, etc., do find and hereby report further that the - aforesaid lamented Seymour was murdered by a rifle bullet fired - by the man who held up the B.C.X. stage and killed Ben Tabor, - driver thereof and subject of the last preceding inquest of this - court, both being foul and fatal murders. - - "We, the jury, etc., do find and hereby report still further, - that Deputy Coroner Samuel Hardley, Esq., reached the scene of - the tragedy with commendable promptitude. We direct him to draw - such posse as he finds necessary from amongst the citizens of - Gold and run to earth the perpetrator of these dastardly crimes; - and, furthermore, we express our confidence that he will leave no - stone unturned to justify his reputation as a fearless officer - with the encomiums of a successful capture dead or alive." - - -Hardley's shrill voice was softened by the huskiness of proudful -emotion as he finished the reading. From his seat on an empty -packing box in the front row of spectators, Phil Brewster uttered a -fervent "A-men!" then, catching the eye of Seymour who stood along -the wall, he winked sardonically. - -"Needless to say, fellow citizens of Gold," Hardley shrilled on after -having cleared his throat, "your officer appreciates the confidence -of which this jury of his peers has so fitly delivered itself. He -will leave no stone unturned to bring to a rope's end the foul fiend -guilty of sending to perdition these two men, one a brave officer of -the law and the other a worthy driver of the B.C.X. mules. He would -respectfully suggest that before you leave this temporary temple of -justice, so kindly loaned for the occasion by the public-spirited -manager of the First Bank of Gold, each and every one of you look for -the last time on one who gave his life that this should be a more -decent and law-loving mining camp." - -For this last suggestion, Seymour could forgive Hardley's astonishing -lack of modesty, even his consigning to "perdition" the two -casualties. Although the fat deputy could not have imagined it, he -had done the sergeant a pronounced favor. - -Seymour lost no time in gaining a position from which he could watch -the reaction on every face that looked upon Bart. His attention was -caught by a little woman of pleasing countenance, in a drab dress and -the beflowered hat of an outsider, whom he had noticed casually -during the hearing. Now that the line had thinned to nothing and -even the deputy had left his guard-of-honor post, the little woman -came forward haltingly and bent over the rude catafalque. Seymour -could not see her face for the moment as it was shadowed by her hat -brim, but he heard a stifled sob. For an instant, she tottered and -seemed so likely to fall that he took a quick step toward her. His -aid, however, proved unnecessary. With a shudder, she recovered -herself and hurried away, dabbing at her eyes with a bit of cambric. - -As the only individual who had shown the least personal emotion, the -policeman's interest followed her. So did his steps. Outside, he -felt fortunate when he fell in with an acquaintance of the morning, -Cato, the driver of oxen. - -"Who is the little woman in gray?" he asked casually. - -"She's a widdy, but not looking for a second," Cato's face was more -twisted than usual by its sarcastic grin. - -"And I'm not seeking a first," Seymour set him straight. "I asked -because she seemed more affected than the other women by Hardley's -tribute line." - -The old ox driver seemed reassured. "She's just a big-hearted Jane, -owner and cook of the Home Restaurant down the street yonder. The -sergeant boarded with her before he bloomed out in the royal uniform. -I boarded there too, until she turned me down. I'm just -wondering--was it him in the offing that made her cold towards me? -Course, he wouldn't look at her, not serious; him being a -staff-sergeant in secret. But women nurse wild hopes--'specially -widdies. Maybe I'd have a chance now he's been plugged into the -discard." - -Seymour glanced at him in amazement; that he, with his caricature of -a face, could speak of women nursing wild hopes. - -Evidently Cato read his thoughts. "You needn't look so doubtful, -stranger." He flared with resentment. "Ox driving brings mighty -smart wages up here, and I got a claim on Hoodoo Creek that may make -me one of them mill'onaires when I get round to working of it next -winter. Women can read behind the mask--'specially widdies." - -Anxious to be off on the trail of his hunch, the sergeant was not -sorry when they came to the Brewster warehouse and Cato left to -inquire about his next load of freight for the creeks. Russell -Seymour felt suddenly hungry--for home cooking. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -RICHER THAN GOLD - -There was no one visible in the Home Restaurant when Seymour entered. -While talking to Cato, however, he had seen the woman unlock the door -and disappear within, and now, after he had shut the door noisily -behind him, he heard someone moving behind the partition in the rear. -He had time to make choice between a seat at one of the two small -tables or a stool at the oilcloth-covered counter beside the range. -Presently she came into the room. He was seated at the counter. - -That she had been crying was evident; also that she had made an -effort to remove the traces. Inwardly Seymour regretted that he had -not left her alone longer with her grief. - -"I'll leave it to you, ma'am," he said as she came to take his order. -"Whatever is easiest for you in the way of a square meal." - -She murmured an apology for Gold's scanty markets, but thought she'd -be able to feed him without falling back on the can-opener. Bread -had been baked that morning, she told him, as she set out a stack of -soft slices. But she could not speak as encouragingly about the -butter's age. - -Seymour liked her voice, understanding its sad inflection, and he -could feel full sympathy for her wan smile. Fortunately the range -was directly in front of his seat; he could study her without seeming -rude as she placed a steak to broil and sliced potatoes for a raw-fry. - -In the course of his intent study of her, his hope grew that -something valuable could be drawn from her. With the second sip of -coffee, he broke bluntly into the matter in hand. "Well, they got -poor Bart at last, I see!" he remarked. - -He could see that he had startled her, as he had intended to do. She -looked at him sharply, as if to make sure he was the stranger she had -taken him to be. For a moment he feared she was going to break into -tears, but with an effort she controlled herself, evidently being no -stranger to sorrow. - -"You knew Bart--the sergeant?" she asked, choking back a sob. - -"In a way of speaking--yes," said Seymour. "I know that he was not -an officer of the Royal Mounted." - -With uncertain steps she felt her way along the lunch counter. - -"Not--not an officer?" she faltered. "Why, what do you mean, sir?" - -"Just what I say, madam. What's more, I know that Bart's sudden -taking makes you a sure-enough widow, instead of a pretended one. -You have my deepest sympathy, Mrs. Caswell." - -To himself, Seymour justified his seeming harshness of utterance on -grounds of professional necessity; that there might be real mercy for -the woman also involved, in case he succeeded in breaking through her -reserve, was another consideration. Everything depended upon her -reaction to this "shot" assertion. He had followed her on a hunch -bred of her emotions at the imposter's bier. Old man Cato had given -him a plausible reason for her showing of grief. While studying her -when she stood over the range, however, the idea had come to him that -she had been Bart Caswell's wife. He was prepared to be shown that -the woman herself was not a criminal, even by inclination. In fact, -he was predisposed to believe that she would prove essentially honest. - -"You're wrong, stranger--wrong on both counts!" the woman replied. -She had steadied herself, was forcing her voice to hold an even tone. -Seymour could not yet be sure that his hunch was right. - -"Mr. Seymour was a staff-sergeant," she went on. "The coward that -murdered him will learn that to his sorrow when Russell's mates come -from headquarters to avenge his death. As for my being his -widow----" She essayed a little laugh that was almost too much a -strain upon her histrionic powers. "I'm not saying what might have -come to pass had not death stepped in; but as it stands, he was just -a brave friend and a good-paying boarder." - -A moment the sergeant merely stared at her; then he leaned along the -counter toward her. "You'd like to see your brave friend's slayer -punished, wouldn't you?" - -A flash of fury lit her worn face; her teeth clicked ominously and -her small, work-roughened hands clinched. - -"I'd give the world if it were mine and count it well spent!" she -cried. "If ever I find out who--" She checked herself, evidently -fearing that she was going too far in behalf of a "brave friend and a -good-paying boarder." - -"Then tell me all you can about Bart, his recent movements and what -he had planned for the future," urged Seymour quietly. "I'm here to -get the man who killed him, Mrs. Caswell." - -Probably it was more his repetition of that "Mrs. Caswell" than his -declaration of purpose that suddenly unnerved her. It was such -convincing indication that her denials had not been believed. She -sank into a chair that stood by the front window and buried her face -in her hands. She looked so hopeless that Seymour's heart was wrung -with pity for her. His hunch had been right, but there was no need -now to press it unfeelingly. She should have all the time she needed -for sobbing readjustment. - -"How come you to think you know so much about him--about us?" she -asked presently without looking up. - -"I know, ma'am. I am the real Russell Seymour--the sergeant whose -uniform he wore." - -His mask was off. He had been more frank than at first he intended -to be, but, in all circumstances, he considered the temporary secret -of his identity safe with her. - -Bart's widow started up in her chair. "Here so soon!" she exclaimed. - -"Not soon enough, though, I'm sorry to say. If the Force had planted -a detachment here with the first Chinook, probably your husband would -not have been tempted to hold up the B.C.X." - -Mrs. Caswell groaned in her anguish. "You know--about--about that, -too?" - -"Naturally. How else would he get possession of my uniform? Tell -me, madam; what did he expect to gather in when he held up the -baggage stage? It's a cinch that he couldn't have known that my -clothes were in transit." - -But the little woman was not persuaded to answer at once. Seymour -had to show her his official shield, which he had taken from its -place of concealment in his trail pack when he stabled the horses -before the inquest. He went to some pains, also, to show her that -although she was an accessory after the crime, no charge would be -placed against her if she helped in unraveling the latest murder. - -He pointed out that, in view of the stolen uniform in which Bart had -been killed, she could not hope to prevent the fatal stage robbery -from being laid to him. - -"But I can save his memory the disgrace of a brutal murder!" the -widow cried, as though suddenly persuaded that the officer was a -genuine one. She fluttered out of her chair into a more confidential -position at the counter. - -"Bart did shoot Ben Tabor but he had to fire in self-defense. It was -his life or Tabor's; he made a brave man's choice." She paused a -moment to catch a sob that seemed determined to escape, then -proceeded to eulogize as best she might. "Bart Caswell was the -gentlest of men. I never knew of his harming a soul before. Except -for his wrong idea that the world owed him a living and his peculiar -way of collecting it, there is nothing that could be said against -him." - -"I'm ready to be shown, Mrs. Caswell," the sergeant encouraged her. - -He listened then to the old, old story of the double-cross in a new -setting and with unusual variations. The First Bank of Gold, -according to the widow, used considerable currency in its purchase of -dust from the miners. To guard against robbery, the shipments were -made in supposed secrecy by the weekly baggage stage, but the driver -knew of the valuable load he carried occasionally. Caswell and Tabor -had been friends in Vancouver before either came into the north -country and soon after their meeting in Gold, the robbery had been -planned. - -Bart had "stuck" the stage at the agreed point, only to be told by -Tabor that the expected $30,000 shipment for that week had been -withheld. Not then suspicious, Bart had accepted the statement as -fact, expressed his hope that they'd have better luck next time, and -was disappearing into the brush when Tabor fired upon him. The -bullet struck a silver plate in Bart's back that had been placed -there to repair a wound received during a Seattle gun-fight some -years before. - -The blow staggered him, but he was uninjured. Turning as his friend -was in the act of firing again, he had brought down the traitor with -a single shot. - -A hurried search of the express book showed that the currency -shipment had been made. Driving the stage off the trail, Bart had -examined the load thoroughly but had found no bank package. He -concluded that Tabor had concealed it somewhere along the trail, -meaning to get the whole of the loot for himself after putting the -blame on the friend he expected to kill. - -Watchful for flaws in the widow's account, Seymour seized upon a -seeming one. "But if Bart had been killed in the brush, no loot -would have been found on him," he pointed out. "Tabor still would -have been held responsible for the currency." - -"They had planned in advance," she smiled wearily, "that Tabor should -report his stage robbed by three masked men. He need only have sworn -that the other two got away with the bank package." - -Seymour made mental note of at least one way of checking up on Mrs. -Caswell's account, then asked her about the uniform. - -"Your bag was the only thing on the wagon that Bart thought might be -of use to him," she admitted with an air of frankness that was -convincing. "He brought it here--to a room he was supposed to have -been renting from me--in the half story above the restaurant. When I -found him there trying on the suit, he told me about his hard luck." - -The sergeant felt that the crux of the interview was approaching, but -meant to get at it gradually, retaining the full advantage of the -confidence he had established. - -"The idea of impersonating an officer of the Mounted--was that merely -to assure him a getaway for the Tabor killing?" he asked. - -"Partly to delay an investigation of that by pretending to have -undertaken it himself; more to help him in another enterprise he had -in view up the creeks." - -Considering a moment, Seymour ventured: - -"Having failed in landing the bank currency, he was going after gold -in the raw, perhaps?" - -"He told me there was something richer than gold----" - -The noisy opening of the street door interrupted. They glanced up to -see Cato entering. Looking like a horrid gnome, with his long arms -dangling almost to the ground from his misshapen shoulders, the ox -driver advanced to a stool one removed from Seymour. Upon this he -pulled himself, after giving his neighbor the merest of nods. From -the odor of his breath, he evidently had fortified himself for this -untimely visit with bottled courage. He leered at the widow as if he -considered himself assured of welcome now that his attractive rival -had been eliminated. - -"'Tis a starving man you see before you, Mary, Queen of Scots," he -declared. "But a starving man with a jingle in his pockets. With -all the goings-on in camp, I'm rejoiced that the Home is open for -serving meals that is meals." - -Recalling the hope which Cato had expressed on the street a short -while before, Seymour wondered how long he would have to wait for an -opportunity to finish his interview. He attacked the steak that had -been neglected, hoping that the old man would be too engrossed in his -"chances" to notice that the meat was cold. - -"I haven't forgotten that second cup of coffee, sir," the widow had -presence of mind enough to offer. "If you'll be wishing for supper -this evening, please come in by eight as I'll be closing early." - -Seymour took this as both his dismissal and an appointment for the -widow to finish. Until eight o'clock, then, he would have to wait to -know what Bart Caswell had in mind that was richer than gold and was -to be had on the Creeks of Argonaut with the aid of a Royal Canadian -police uniform. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -A CRYPTIC MESSENGER - -From the Home Restaurant, the sergeant went to the stables where -already he had made his horses comfortable. He secured a clothes -poke from the pack of his outfit. The Bonanza Hotel proved -advantageously informal in that he was asked "two dollars a night in -advance," instead of being confronted with a register for his name -and address. A key, attached to a tin disk too large for any normal -pocket, was tossed to him by the grouchy boniface, who informed him -he would find No. 12 at the head of the stairs. - -Opening a canvas door supported on a pair of leather hinges, Seymour -entered a tiny room lighted by a single window. It was furnished to -the minimum with a blanketed cot, a chair and a table of the roughest -construction. - -As he sat on the edge of the cot, he recalled the crowded events of -the life that had been his in the few months since the strangulation -of Oliver O'Malley. Up at Armistice post, by now, the first mail -must have arrived. Constable La Marr would know that a "court" was -about to start from Ottawa to give Olespe of the Lady Franklin band a -trial for his life. He'd know, too, that Avic would not be tried -just then because the case against him would be incomplete without -the testimony of Harry Karmack, the fugitive factor who undoubtedly -had robbed the Arctic Trading Company. And when would he find -Karmack--when and where? And Moira O'Malley, when would she arrive -in Gold to join her bereaved father until that capture time? - -The events of the day, however, were too stressing for his practical -mind to long concern itself with anything but the matter immediately -at hand. - -"Richer than gold!" The last words of the widow kept recurring to -his thoughts. What could this presumptuous crook of the wilds have -had in mind? The sergeant could think, of course, of commodities -that were more precious than the yellow metal, but of none that were -indigenous to that upper corner of British Columbia. - -So he puzzled over the remark until he concluded that Bart must have -used a figure of speech. He would await the widow's interpretation. - -Seymour was not surprised to find that he did not think of Mrs. -Caswell as a participant in Bart's outlawry. Without protestations -of innocence or any oral plea that she had tried in vain to reform -the daring rascal, she had acquitted herself of culpability. The -weary lines in the face that must have been beautiful not so long -ago, the haunted look in her dark eyes, even her superb first effort -at denial had won the Mountie's sympathy. - -A knock on the canvas door of his room interrupted his study of the -local situation. Arising, he unhooked the latch, whereupon the -improvised door swung inward of its own weight and the accord of its -makeshift hinges. - -Disclosed in the frame, filling it perpendicularly but sadly lacking -in horizontal proportions, stood a gaunt, miner-clad figure, -distinguished by a pair of deep-set eyes which burned like living -coals and a shock of white hair which waved its freedom when his -slouch hat was removed. - -"Will you pardon me, stranger; no intrusion meant." The voice was -soft and a smile of utmost benignity came into play. "In the midst -of life, we are in death." - -"The missionary--Moira O'Malley's father and the uncle of the -morning's colorful trailmate!" was Seymour's instant thought; but he -gave no sign of the presumed recognition. - -"Safe enough statement in this camp to-day," he said to his visitor. - -"I'm the sky-pilot of these diggings," the other announced in a -pulpit voice that rumbled through the hall. - -"Won't you come in, sir?" - -The missionary declined with a shake of his head. "I must hasten on -my weekly rounds, distributing lessons from the Word. Won't you -accept one of these and promise me to read it?" He held out a small -tract taken from a handful which he carried. - -The sergeant glanced at the title: "What Shall It Profit a Man----" -He smiled tolerantly, thinking what a queer yet lovable character his -future life's companion had for a parent. - -"It is not meet that we should be seen in conference," O'Malley's -voice had been lowered to a whisper; then suddenly it boomed so that -all beneath the roof might hear: "I trust you will read that tract, -brother--read and profit thereby." And with that, he stalked down -the hall as though in search of other needy souls. - -Seymour watched him. On getting no answer from the next door, the -gaunt frame stooped to slip a tract under it. At another a woman -answered his knock and a "sister" was informed that in the midst of -life she was in death. - -Back in his room, Seymour pondered the single whispered sentence with -which the sky pilot varied what evidently were his wonted words when -distributing tracts. Had Moira written that he had started for Gold -and that he knew more than anyone in the world about the family's -Arctic tragedy? - -But that was impossible, for he had been able to spend but a moment -with the girl when orders came to him at Montreal to report at once -to the assistant commissioner in command of "E" Division at -Vancouver. Seymour himself had not known then that he would -eventually arrive in plain clothes at her father's mission station. - -What, then, could the whisper mean unless there was a -message--temporal rather than spiritual--for him hidden somewhere in -the pamphlet? - -But when he shook its leaves, no enclosure dropped out. He examined -the margins without raising a sign. The inside back cover was blank -but nothing had been written thereon. He remembered that the -missionary had picked the tract seemingly at random from a pack of -several dozen and he was discouraged. - -Still, the whisper persisted. "It is not meet that we be seen in -conference"--he recalled every significant word of it. Surely such -words had not been spoken at random. Drawing the chair to the -window, he sat down and began a more intensive study of the printed -sheet. Soon, an ink dot beneath a letter rewarded him; then others. -Presently he picked out a sequence of dotted letters spelling -"P-a-r-d-o-n." - -The process reminded him of reading sun-heliograph or taking a -blinker message at night. Undoubtedly the communication was of -importance that the girl should have gone to such trouble to assure -secrecy. The uncle, too, must have shared the secret or he could not -have been trusted to pick out the message-dotted tract. From his -clothes poke, the sergeant took out a writing pad and with his pencil -set the indicated letters into words, with this final result: - - - P-a-r-d-o-n m-y v-a-m-o-s-e a-n-d c-u-t B-o-t-h - f-o-r g-o-o-d o-u-r c-a-u-s-e B-a-r-t s-a-i-d y-o-u - c-o-m-i-n-g t-o h-e-l-p N-o-w m-u-s-t c-a-r-r-y o-n - a-l-o-n-e B-e c-a-r-e-f-u-l K-e-e-p s-i-l-e-n-t C-o-m-e - o-u-r c-a-b-i-n l-a-t-e t-o-n-i-g-h-t G-r-e-e-n - R-i-v-e-r a-t G-l-a-c-i-e-r R-u-t-h D-u-p-e-r-o-w. - - -The message amazed him on more than one count. She had "left him -cold" at the point of discovery and later on refused to recognize him -on the streets of Gold for the good of "our cause." What cause? -Unless that was her way of indicating law and order, he knew of no -cause they had in common. Again, he was to "carry on alone." What -did she expect him to carry on? - -Of course, he meant to carry on until he had the man who would have -kidnapped Moira O'Malley, except for the enactments of the snows. -But why go back to Moira? This cousin was of a different type. -Beautiful, to be sure, but not his sort of beauty--not the sort that -thrilled and held him. He stopped ruminating with a jerk. Almost -had he forgot---- - -Most puzzling of all was that "Bart said _you_ were coming." Who did -she think he was, anyway? That she had made a faulty surmise of some -sort was evidenced by the fact that she still held the crook at his -assumed sergeancy value. - -As for the rest of the message, nothing would please him better than -to accept the strangely sent invitation to call. It would mean -getting in touch with Moira quicker than he could hope to do if he -continued his incognito role in the camp. - -Seymour turned his attention for some time, then, to an intensive -study of the blue print map of the district which he had purchased at -the surveyor's office on riding into Gold that morning. His hope was -to find a way toward the creeks after nightfall without asking -questions. - -His morning course to the point where he had overtaken the -boyish-looking rider was easily traced, and thence into town. -Working back, he found the trail over which Ruth Duperow had come and -followed that to the mouth of Glacier Creek. Evidently the girl, for -some reason, had taken a roundabout course that morning, for he found -that a more direct trail to town followed the Cheena. His -acquaintance with the Indian tongue was sufficient to spare him the -map-maker's mistake of adding the word river to a name that really -included it in the "na" suffix. - -From such detail as was drawn into the map, he judged that Glacier -was not much of a creek. It appeared to start in a nest of glaciers -and to flow through a cañon as from the neck of a bottle. Between -the Cheena and the cañon was drawn a square with a legend, "Indian -Mission." That no mining claims were marked off on this creek, -although those surrounding it were well staked, seemed remarkable; -but the stranger did not try to guess the answer. - -For no other reason than that the name had lodged in his mind, -Seymour sought out Hoodoo Creek on the map and found the claim -accredited to Cato--Thirteen Above. If the long-armed ox-man cited -it in advancing his hopes with the widow, Seymour hoped that the -number would exert its supposedly baleful influence. - -From the blue-print, he turned to writing a report to his chief in -Vancouver to whom word of the murder of his "Staff-Sergeant Russell -Seymour" had undoubtedly been sent without delay. He took a grim -sort of enjoyment in an opening after Mark Twain: - -"I have the honor to state my safe arrival in Gold, B.C. Any reports -of my violent death that may reach you are _slightly exaggerated_." - -In the terse English that has made mounted police reports models of -modesty, he told how he had "run into" two murder mysteries in -addition to the embezzlement case which had brought him from the Far -North. One of these, with its accompanying stage robbery, he -believed he had solved except for stray angles that did not affect -the capital crime. He was at work on the second murder case, with -fair progress. - -Over his final paragraph, which was headed "Suggestions," according -to the form followed by the Force in official communications, he -pondered deeply. Whatever he wrote there, he had reason to believe, -would be incorporated into an order soon after passing under -Assistant Commissioner Baxter's eyes. On this particular independent -command, he was anxious not to make mistakes. Finally he wrote: - - - "Am not prepared to pass judgment, at this time, on the - permanency of Gold. From what I have seen, however, the district - sadly needs Dominion policing. Would suggest that you send at - your earliest convenience one (1) sergeant and two (2) - constables, mounted and with suitable camp equipment. As I may - be working under cover on this second, unsolved murder, please - instruct the sergeant to make camp on his own responsibility and - act accordingly until he hears from me. Tell him to disregard - reports of my demise as unfounded and----" - - -A strident "Come in!" evidently in answer to a knock he had not -heard, sounded in the adjoining room and caused him to raise his pen -from the paper with the sentence incomplete. - -"Hello Brewster, glad I found you in." - -The shrilled greeting was in an unmistakable voice. Its wording -informed Seymour that the agreeable freighter of his morning's -acquaintance was his immediate hotel neighbor. - -"What can I do for you, Hardley, you honorable strong arm of the law?" - -The voice was Brewster's--the same that had remarked the thinness of -the tar-paper partitions. They were veritable sounding boards. -Seymour could hear every word. - -"Wanted to ask your advice, Phil, about some points in this Mountie's -murder." - -The genuine sergeant winced involuntarily. It was a very bad joke. -He doubted that he ever would become accustomed to Sergeant Seymour -spoken of as murdered--done for. - -"Shoot," he heard Brewster invite. - -"It's this way, Phil. Seymour must have been quite a responsible -member of the Force. As you said this a.m., his snuffing is going to -make a noisy roar-back. I got to report it to somebody in the -Mounted--but who and whereat?" - -Seymour fidgeted uneasily in the silence that followed, evidently due -to Brewster's considering his answer. He detested eavesdropping; -never had resorted to it on any of his cases. By way of letting the -two in the adjoining room know of his presence, he scraped his chair -noisily over the bare floor. This warning, however, failed to check -Brewster, or even to lower his voice. - -"I remember reading that Vancouver is the nearest staff-office of -this new Canadian Mounted Police, but I've just been thinking---- If -they send a lot of Mounties into Gold and run down these -stage-robbing murderers, you're not going to get any credit. I'm -strong for home industry, even in justice. Why don't you delay -reporting the sergeant's death until you land your man?" - -"Say you're a real friend, Phil, even if you do try to ride me -sometimes. I need the credit for turning a trick like that. It -might make me sheriff when the old man gets through. But--but would -I dare?" - -Seymour started for the hall but on the way, heard Brewster's reply: - -"Write your report, Sam, but don't post it until after tomorrow's -mail has gone. That'll give you a week. Then address the letter to -Ottawa, which will give you a few days more. In that time, you ought -to have the murderers rounded up. You can forget what I told you -about there being any Vancouver headquarters." - -Surprise at such advice from a seemingly public-spirited citizen -delayed Seymour's knock until he had heard it through. Of course, -all this might be merely a sign of real, though mistaken, friendship -for Hardley. On the other hand, was it possible that Brewster had -personal reasons for wishing to delay the coming of the Mounted? - -With this question to the fore of his mind, Seymour knocked on the -adjoining door and was invited in. His entry seemed not to disturb -either of the two. - -"Just wanted to tell you that the next room is occupied and that the -partition between is more or less of a megaphone," he said in a light -tone. "If you've any secrets----" - -Brewster's laugh was natural enough to be reassuring. "If we were -talking secrets, stranger, we'd take to the brush. I've lived in the -Bonanza since the day it was opened, and I don't even think secrets -behind these make-believe walls." - -The sergeant dismissed his unintentional eavesdropping with a shrug -and turned to the deputy. - -"Out on the trail this morning you seemed to think you might want me -later. You'll know now where to find me--Room number twelve." - -"Forget this a.m., old topper. I was maybe a little mite excited out -there at the scene of the crime. There ain't sech a lot of -difference between deputy sheriffs and mounted sergeants. It might-a -been me lying there deader than dead. Your happening along looked -sort of queer. I'm seeing straighter now. You're welcome to Gold -and I hope you get what you come for." - -"You'll find me strong for law and order," Seymour replied. - -This seemed to invite Hardley to real confidences. Beckoning Seymour -from the doorway, he edged his chair closer to the cot on which -Brewster reclined in his stockinged feet. - -"Don't mind telling you two in confidence," he leaned forward and -whispered, "that I'm in a fair way to nabbing the two who robbed the -stage and killed Tabor and Seymour. Maybe I ain't seemed to be doing -much, but I've got clews to burn already." - -"You have?" cried Brewster, hunching himself into a sitting position -on the cot. - -Hardley nodded assuredly. "There were two of them in the bush lying -for the sergeant this morning. One had a Winchester 30-30 and used -it to kill Seymour. One rode a horse that was shod in front but -plain behind." He paused, evidently, from his expression, to collect -the encomiums he considered his due. - -"Important if true, Sam," Brewster observed. - -"Quick work," admitted the Mountie, honestly surprised; his hand was -in the trousers pocket that held the cartridge case picked up that -morning. "How in the world did you learn all that?" - -Hardley seemed to relish supplying the details, even though he had to -whisper them. Apparently he had forgotten that one of his confidants -was an utter stranger both to him and to the camp, one whose name -even he did not know. His was country-official vanity advanced to -the _n_th degree. - -"Dr. Pratt dug out the bullet, which fixed the brand of the gun with -which the deed was done. Then I've got a half-breed boy on my staff -who's keen as a Gordon setter in the bush. He found the horse track -of the two from the scene of the crime. Now I'm looking for a man -with a 30-30 repeater and a horse that's shy on shoes." - -Surprised that Hardley should have shown so much initiative, and -apprehensive that he was getting too near "home" for comfort, Seymour -framed a diverting question. - -"What do you know about the chap who was killed?" - -"You mean this last one--Staff-Sergeant Seymour?" asked the deputy in -turn, but merely as a preface, not waiting for an answer. "Kirby of -the First Bank has heard of him. Says he was nicknamed 'Sergeant -Scarlet' up in the Northwest territories, and is guilty of some of -the hardest patrols ever made. He must have been a regular fighting -machine. Autopsy proved that." - -Sergeant Scarlet! That was the nickname Moira had given him! But -others, to be sure, had used it before his beautiful Irisher. -Perhaps his reputation as a man-getter had spread further than he -knew. - -Anyway, his chance to check up on Widow Caswell had arrived sooner -than he expected. He showed casual but sufficient interest in the -disclosures mentioned. - -"The sergeant had been under fire before, and more than once," -declared Hardley. "The doctor found a silver plate bracing his spine -high up between the shoulders. And, would you believe it, there was -a dent in that plate which looked as if he'd been hit in the -identical repair spot by some later bullet!" - -"Checked to a T," thought Seymour of the widow's tale. - -He became more than ever anxious to be clear of the talkative deputy. -With all his false surmises, the natural-born bungler had corralled -some accurate information and might make a deal of trouble for him. -At first chance he got back to his room. - -With a few swift strokes, he completed and signed his report. His -O.C. must be prepared for that murder report, whether Hardley finally -acted on Brewster's advice or not. - -Hurrying from the hotel into King Street, Seymour found the post -office and mailed his letter. Then, although the hour was only -seven, he advanced casually upon the Home Restaurant. He was eager -to be on his way to the creeks before Hardley stumbled, as possibly -he might, upon the fact that Seymour's rifle, stored with his outfit, -was a 30-30 and that Kaw was "shod in front and plain behind." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -INTO THE NIGHT - -"You were saying, Mrs. Caswell----" - -Seymour's wait at one of the Home's small tables had been long drawn. -The slender widow was worked "ragged" to cook and serve the tide of -customers that, by perverse chance, had set in particularly strong -that evening. - -Fortunately, all were strangers to the sergeant and he congratulated -himself that he had attracted only passing notice as he sat seemingly -absorbed in an old fiction magazine, with his coffee never quite -finished before him. He had gained nothing by coming early, for it -was nearly nine o'clock when at last they found themselves alone. - -"Are you too tired to talk, Mrs. Caswell? You've had a hard day," -the sergeant interrupted himself. The widow smiled wanly, a grateful -light in her eyes, but replied that she would prefer to "have it over -with." - -"Let me see," she considered, for appearance's sake supporting her -weary self by leaning over a stool, instead of sitting down at the -table beside him. "Where was I this afternoon when that old pest -broke in?" - -"I trust you punctured Cato's hopes?" The sergeant could not resist -the momentary digression. - -"The presuming ox had been drinking," she said. "He gave me,--well, -let's call it an argument; but I had the last word. He'll not come -bothering around here again." - -After a smile and nod of approval, Seymour returned to their -unfinished business. "You were telling me what Bart had in view up -the creeks. Something 'richer than gold'--wasn't that the way you -put it?" - -"His very words," the widow went on in the glow of loving -reminiscence. "Naturally, I was curious, for I thought the gold was -all there was worth while up here. I asked him what he meant." With -that, her lips were stilled and a dreamy look came into her eyes. - -The sergeant did not believe that she had paused with aggravating -intent, or even from any sense of the dramatic. Doubtless, her -thoughts were with the departed rogue. But that was no place at all -for her to stop; he just couldn't wait longer to learn what in Gold -was richer than gold. - -"Yes--yes!" he prodded, glancing at his watch to suggest a time -reason for his hurry. - -"Why, Bart just took me into his arms in a gentle, big-bear way he -had--at times--and said--I'll never forget; it made me so happy." - -Again she was living over what evidently had been the big moment of -her recent life; but that fact did not ease in the least Seymour's -present impatience. - -"Well, what did he say?" - -"Bart said--'All you'll care to know, Marge old dear, is that I'm -going to put something over in the name of the law and within it. -I'm going to rectify a wrong. In the name of the Royal Mounted, I'm -going to loot some looters.' That's what Bart said, and you can -understand, Mr. Sergeant, how happy it made me." - -For another brief moment, Margaret Caswell succeeded in forgetting -her recent bereavement. - -"That talk was the morning after the unfortunate stage--business," -she went on with just a little break in her voice at the mention of -the crime. "Bart went forth in his borrowed uniform to establish -himself at the hotel as befits an officer. He dropped in here for -supper and we had a fine talk. He told me that nobody seemed to -doubt his authority and that the whole camp was breathing easier at -sight of the scarlet and gold." - -Exactly like a woman to be accurate about the clothes he wore, -thought Seymour, and he pictured the swath the handsome crook must -have cut in the new camp all excited with its first big crime. - -"Bart knew that he would have to work fast," the woman was saying. -"From letters or orders he found in the bag, he was aware that you -would soon be coming in plain clothes. In spite of the fact that he -would be acting in the name of the Law and that all his so-called -lifting would be from Montreal crooks, he'd be forced to make a -getaway over the Alaskan border, from there to catch some through -steamer to the States." - -"Montreal crooks!" More than ever was Seymour now interested. Was -it possible that, in that inexplicable way of the almost trackless -wilds, his trail here would cross that of Harry Karmack's--that his -unsolved assignment might be completed and his pact with Moira -validated? Harry Karmack, he well knew, had been hand in glove with -the worst of Montreal's underworld characters, although there the -lawless element had been able to cover the embezzler. - -But the woman was going on: "It was agreed that I'd stay right here -running this eating place, until I heard from him. You see, it was -safe enough, for we had been very careful and no one suspected that -there was any relationship. After that evening, I never saw Bart -again to speak to." - -That she might not yield to this call upon her emotions, Seymour put -out a couple of rapid fire questions. "You think, then, that one of -these so-called Montreal crooks got him? Any line on them?" - -"No line," she answered regretfully, after a moment's thought: "None -at all, unless-- There's a young woman he met up the creeks, a -missionary's relative, I believe. I saw her speak to him one day on -King Street and, of course, he _had_ to explain. He met her when he -was just plain Barton Caswell and was out prospecting. From her -uncle, he learned of the wrongs being done by the Montreal gang, but -until that uniform fell into his hands, he did not conceive any way -of getting the best of them. Perhaps these missionary folks can help -you." - -Evidently Bart had played his cards with the skill of an expert, -thought Seymour. From the widow's impassioned admission she held no -grudge against the Duperow girl. There had been no hint of slur in -her tones that mentioned the younger, prettier woman. All this -suggested that she must have had implicit faith in the crook's love -for her. - -Declaring his intention of looking up the mission folks, the sergeant -returned to the subject of the loot. Had she asked no further about -the nature of it? - -"I surely did, but his answer was always the same. 'Richer than -gold, Marge, richer than gold.' He said he'd be the first mounted -policeman in the history of the Force to make a clean-up, even if he -was one only for a week. This stroke was to mean luxury for me, a -home in an orange grove in California, diamond rings set in platinum, -fine dresses--everything! I think this morning, when he rode out so -bravely, that he hoped never to come back to Gold. The loot is up -there in the creeks, you know, and Alaska is still further on. Any -hour the real staff-sergeant--who has turned out to be you--might -have ridden in, as, in truth, you did." - -Satisfied that the bandit's widow withheld nothing worth while, -Seymour was anxious to be off about the invitation which Ruth Duperow -had "dotted" to him. He felt, however, that he owed Bart's widow -something for the information which, once she started to impart it, -had been given so frankly. He was minded to pay at once, even if the -coin thereof was only good advice. - -"For the present, you had best sit tight here and say nothing, Mrs. -Caswell," he began. "I suppose it was easy come, easy go with Bart; -that he leaves you practically nothing. From what I've seen of your -trade this evening, you have a paying proposition in the restaurant. -I don't see any reason why you can't go on with it." - -"But when people know----" - -"Maybe they need never know that Bart was anything but a boarder," -Seymour interposed hopefully. "You seem to have guarded your secret -well when even infatuated old Cato didn't suspect your man of being -more than a suitor." - -The little woman had been too distressed to give thought to her own -future; naturally she seemed uncertain about it. Then suddenly the -flame of that love which was beyond Seymour's comprehension, but -within his appreciation, flared to decision. - -"But they will have to know if I save Bart's reputation!" she cried. -"I'll not have the world think he killed that double-crossing stage -driver in anything but defense of his own life." - -Here was complication which disturbed the plans that the Mountie, -impelled by his rugged conviction that every person was entitled to a -square deal, had been making for her. He had no time to argue with -her, so went on to impress her with what was vital to his own -operations. - -He could work to a better advantage toward the capture of Bart's -slayer if the double unmasking was delayed. Her promise to say -nothing until he gave her leave was his for the asking. The town -folks would probably arrange an appropriate funeral for the dead -"sergeant"; she would need to attend as a sorrowing acquaintance, but -she must keep a tight rein on her emotions if she wished to aid in -the capture. In this, ordeal though it would be, Mrs. Caswell -promised to do her best. - -As he arose to leave, he offered her his big hand. She reached out -her small one timidly. - -"I never thought I'd be shaking hands with a Mountie," she confessed -in a murmuring voice, "I'm afraid I've hated you wearers of the -scarlet, you were so all-sure of getting the men you went after and I -never knew when Bart would fall into your clutches. But now----" - -"That's all right, ma'am. You've helped a lot and I only hope I can -get this crowd." He started for the door, but remembered one thing -more. "That war bag of mine--I suppose Bart took it to the hotel -when he moved. I'll be needing that other uniform when this mystery -is cleared." - -"The bag is still upstairs," she said quickly. "Bart only took some -documents and papers besides what he wore. He didn't know but what -his identity would be questioned when he suddenly changed from a -mining expert to a policeman." - -"And the room--is it rented?" - -She shook her head. - -"Then, if you'll accept me as a tenant until further notice we'll let -the bag stay where it is. The rent?" - -"I couldn't think of taking rent from you when you're working out my -revenge," she said. - -Seymour frowned. "I'm seeing that justice is done, madam," he said, -referring to her use of the word revenge. "I am teaching Gold the -value of human life. And I'll pay for the room--the usual rate." - -To escape further discussion he hurried into the fallen night. -Pondering the marvelous complexities of the women met in a day on the -"Last Frontier," he nearly plumped into a mud hole which lay out -front. Close to the shack lay a beaten path; this he followed. At -the corner he was edging into the vacant lot which adjoined, when, -without a swish of warning, something blacker than night fell over -him. - -Instinctively he struck out at this blackness, his knuckles denting a -yielding substance that had a fibrous touch. Before he could throw -off its enveloping folds, he felt a pair of strong arms go around his -waist. They closed in as with a gathering string. The covering -evidently was a horse blanket judging by the smell. - -As a sudden surge of fury against such artful man-handling lent him -strength to thrash about, a heavy blow fell upon the back of his -head. He felt his knees weaken under the shock of it, but clawed and -strained to break the hold about his waist. A second hammering blow -descended. His ability to struggle failed him. His knees gave way. -He was sinking into vast depths. The Gold garroters, whoever they -were and whatever their object, had got him. "Scarlet" Seymour was -out! - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -MORNING'S MAZE - -The awakening of Sergeant Seymour was painful; never before had he -known that a head could ache with the throbs that were racking his. -Presently his mind took hold of a fragmentary idea--horse-blanket. -Upon this, after a mental struggle, he was able to spread a picture -of his sorry going-out at the hands of some mining-camp thugs, -doubtless intent on robbing him. - -His next wonder was what had awakened him and by way of answering -that, he opened his eyes for a look around, the greatest surprise of -which was broad daylight. The sun, then, must have served as his -alarm clock--called him out of that night which was darker than any -he had ever known before. Now its rays were streaming into a cabin -room in which he lay, fully clad, upon a straw-stuffed bunk. - -He did not bother to get up just then; he merely lay back on the -inadequate pillow of his slouch hat and "listened" to the ache of his -head. The idea that he had been robbed persisted. To his surprise, -he found that the currency belt around his waist had not been -disturbed. Surely mining camp crooks would know where to look for -his valuables! - -Then he slid his right hand over his chest to feel the holster that -hung beneath his left arm. Greater surprise! His gun lay ready in -its usual concealment. - -The conclusions, painful in their process, were at once comforting -and disturbing. He had not been trimmed or even frisked. Robbery -could not have been the motive behind the attack outside the widow's -restaurant. Then--what? - -Slowly he raised himself to a sitting position upon the bare bunk and -permitted his eyes to rove until they settled upon another shock to -his tortured comprehension. This was found in the narrow window -through which the sun was streaming. Iron bars crossed the opening. -He must be a prisoner in jail. - -"Deputy Sheriff! Samuel Hardley, the strong arm of the law!" - -He swung his feet to the floor and took a somewhat wabbly stand. -Further survey convinced him beyond doubt that he was in the -blundering deputy's one-cell bastile. This proved to be built of -logs with a door as thick as that of an ice box and studded with -nails. The two windows were near the log ceiling, narrow, oblong and -barred. There were three bunks along as many walls and a Yukon stove -in the cell's center--no other furnishings, but enough for a frontier -jail. - -So, that was the lay of the cards, he mused darkly--the explanation -of the surprise attack. After their talk in Brewster's room at the -Bonanza, the fat deputy must have located Kaw--shod in front but -plain behind--and his 30-30 rifle which he had left in the stable. -Hardley had realized, then, that his ill-considered revelation of -clews would have put his man on guard. Learning that Seymour, -supposed murderer and robber of the stage, was in the restaurant he -had made ambush and effected his arrest along safety-first lines. - -There the deputy's caution seemed to have stopped, thought the -sergeant, enjoying again the reinforcing feel of his gun. Neglect to -search his prisoner was quite in keeping with other official blunders -which the fat man had made. Seymour would have to give Hardley -credit, however, for effecting a silent, bloodless capture--with a -blanket, as he remembered it. - -Full assurance on this point awaited his glance. Almost at his feet -lay the thing--a worn horse-blanket. Possibly the deputy had covered -him with it before locking him in and, in the restlessness of -thud-impelled slumber, Seymour had kicked it off. - -A bottle that stood on the sheet iron stove invited inspection. Even -before he picked it up, the stars on its label prepared him for the -brandy smell which a sniff at its neck brought forth. If Hardley had -been fortifying his courage with that high-powered stuff, it was no -wonder he overlooked the gun. A drink of the liquor might have -strengthened Seymour; but he realized he would need all his wit in -the heated session which he meant should begin with the deputy's -arrival at the jail. Lifting the stove top, he permitted the pint -which remained in the bottle to gurgle into the ashes of some -long-ago fire. - -Seated on the edge of one of the bunks, he took stock of the -situation. He had missed the late-night appointment at the O'Malley -cabin on Glacier Creek. The missionary folk would think, probably, -that they had left too much to his intuition in their excess of -caution. That, however, meant only delay and, while hours were -precious, he would make up for lost time once free of Hardley's -detecting. - -It began to look as though he was not a huge success as a plain -clothes man. He had taken off his mask for Bart's widow. Ruth -Duperow evidently believed him to be a constable come to aid the -murdered "sergeant." Now it seemed likely that he would be forced to -make a confidant of the talkative Hardley in order to be able to -carry on at all. If Bart had not made the uniform a conspicuous -target for one bad outfit of that region, he'd be tempted to at once -climb into the scarlet which the bandit had left unworn. Never had -he liked under-cover patrols, but in this particular case, he felt -that "civies" were essential. - -An hour had passed since his awakening and he was beginning to wonder -when the obese deputy fed his prisoners at his perforce boarding -house. If the surmise taken from the half-filled bottle of "Four -Star" had been freely partaken, Hardley might sleep late that morning -and awaken with a "head" that would make his visit to the guard house -a second thought. - -Seymour thought of firing his pistol through the window in a hope of -attracting attention to his plight; he even went so far as to -unlimber the weapon. But he recalled that he had not the slightest -idea of where the calaboose was situated, for it had not come to his -notice in the course of his one crowded day in Gold. That it did not -stand immediately back of the sheriff's office he was certain, and it -might be on the camp's outskirts for all he knew to the contrary. It -seemed the part of wisdom to reserve his ammunition; at least to give -the deputy another half-hour of grace. - -In his impatience to be out and going, the sergeant began to pace the -floor. Already, his physical fitness was asserting itself, returning -him rapidly to normal. There was a pair of bumps on the back of his -head where the two put-out blows had landed, but there was no sign of -a scalp wound, thanks to the protection the thick blanket had -afforded. Except for the confining bars and that ice-box door, he -was entirely able to be out, carrying the law where it sadly was -needed. - -On his fourth or fifth round of the small room, he paused before the -door, seized with a commanding impulse to expend his surplus energy -in beating upon it. He had seen prisoners behave in that same futile -fashion in his own guard rooms and, for the sake of quiet, had put -irons on them when they persisted. But there was no one in this -inhospitable place to put irons on him, so he yielded to the extent -of beating a tattoo on the stout planking. - -To his amazement, the door gave slightly under his touch, which was -no way at all for a self-respecting jail door to behave. This -"giving" suggested the application of more force. Crouching, he put -his shoulder to it and the heavy portal swung open. He had been -"jugged" in an uncorked "jug," and there was nothing now to keep him -from going where and when he listed. - -He delayed just long enough to examine the fastenings which had not -fastened. A heavy padlock hung securely locked in its deep-set -staple, but the hasp had been left outside, folded back against the -door. For the first time that morning, Sergeant Scarlet smiled; more -than that, he grinned. For once he was indebted to too much brandy. - -Outside, under the blue sky, he took several deep breaths of -vitalizing air. He had seen his own prisoners do that upon being -released from confinement, but never understood the impulse as he did -now. A moment was necessary to get his bearings; the jail stood on a -knoll a hundred yards back from King Street. - -To make tracks out of camp was his first inclination. But at once he -rejected any attempt at escape. That would only start Hardley in -pursuit, probably with that posse the coroner's jury had authorized -so superfluously. Rather, he must quiet the deputy's suspicions, -even to disclosing his official identity, if necessary. Picking his -path, he strode down the incline to King Street. - -As he neared the Bonanza, he saw Hardley come off the porch and -waddle in his direction. But at first sight of him, the deputy -merely added another to the morning's list of surprises. This one -took the form of a cheerfully waved greeting, as from friend to -friend. By no stretch of the imagination could it have been expected -from an officer sighting a prisoner who had just broken out of jail. -Seymour advanced, puzzled and on guard. - -"You're out early this morning, stranger," Hardley shrilled when the -paces that separated them were few. "Just been up to your room -looking for you but heard no 'Come in.'" - -The sergeant studied the man a moment, then replied: "Sorry I was -out. What can I do for you, now that you've found me?" - -"I noticed yesterday that you have a come-hither eye," went on the -deputy in a lower voice. "I've got a hunch them murdering stage -robbers are camped in a cañon south of town a-ways. Thought you -might like a little frolic as one of my official posse. No danger to -speak of, for I'll be leading you and we'll all be armed to the -shoulder-blades. Better come if you've got the time to spare." - -That Hardley did not know Seymour had spent the night in jail seemed -indubitable. The Mounted officer could not explain it. Too much to -blame upon the brandy this seemed, for the deputy had been absolutely -sober in Brewster's room. But explanations could wait. Here was a -chance to be about his police business without disclosing that he had -any. - -At once Seymour expressed his regret. He honestly had no time to -spare. Hardley could understand how anxious he was to get to the -creeks and locate something for himself. The deputy should have no -trouble recruiting enough men, citizens who knew the country better -than any stranger could and who already had staked their claims. He -was for the law every time--Seymour was, but he'd appreciate being -excused from service this once. - -"Sure, I understand, friend," agreed the deputy. "Be on your way and -the best of luck to you. My down-river hunch may be all wrong, so -keep your eyes peeled for a horse that's shod in front and plain -behind. The rider of him is the killer of Sergeant Seymour, or I'm a -liar and as a deputy sheriff, not worth the powder to blow me to -blazes!" - -Half an hour later, a horse that was shod before and plain behind -traveled north out of Gold. His rider was Sergeant Seymour himself, -not his killer. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -THE CLOSED CREEK - -By noon, Seymour had his A-tent pitched on the hank of the Cheena, -between the trail and the stream, a few rods below the point where -Glacier Creek made its indigo-colored contribution. Above the -scrubby timber spiralled the smoke of the hidden mission, to which -the officer proposed to pay a neighborly call when he had finished -the meal of bacon and beans which he was preparing. - -Yesterday, O'Malley and his niece had made it plain that they wished -a conference with him to be secret and under cover of night. His -unexplained capture had made that impossible. Whether or not their -caution was well founded, he was unwilling to await the fall of -another night. He would need to make camp somewhere and felt it -might better be near enough to excuse an open call. Hence he had -pitched his tent here. - -But Seymour had done more that morning than ride out from Gold five -muddy miles and make camp. His years of detachment service had made -him something of a jack-of-all-trades, and his cayuse-packed outfit -was comprehensive. Kaw, grazing on the lush grass of the meadow, now -was as neatly shod as he could have been at the hands of any -blacksmith. No longer was the animal a fit subject for Deputy -Hardley's suspicions. - -The sergeant had scoured his tin dishes in the river bank sand and -was returning to the tent when he saw a horseman observing him from -the main trail. The man stared a moment longer, then rode toward -him. Soon, Seymour recognized him and wondered at such curiosity -from a man of affairs. - -"You're my first visitor, Brewster!" he called as the cordial -freighter drew near. "Welcome to camp. If you'd been fifteen -minutes earlier, I'd have fed you. Now, if you're hungry, over -there's the grub box." - -"So it's really you?" The visitor's response was oddly halting, as -if he was finding it difficult to believe his eyes. - -"To my best knowledge and belief, I'm no one else." - -Brewster laughed and swung into a chatting position by hooking one -leg over the horn of his saddle. "And here I was hot-footing into -town to get you out of jail." - -"Kind of you, but apparently unnecessary," Seymour offered a laugh of -his own. "Where did you get the idea I was in limbo?" - -The sergeant did not need to feign his look of mystification. That -the news of an arrest that Hardley himself did not remember had -traveled to the creeks to be heard by Brewster served only to deepen -the puzzle. - -"Did Hardley mention jail to you?" he asked. "He didn't to me, and I -saw him just before I left town." - -"It wasn't Hardley--haven't seen him since he left my room last -evening. But Cato said Hardley had pinched you and locked you up. -He declared he had helped in the capture and was pleased with -himself." - -At mention of Cato, the sergeant was suddenly in the clear, although -not so much as an eyelash flicker betrayed the fact. He recalled now -the inordinately long arms of the man. Doubtless these had puckered -the blanket around his midriff and beaten him into unconsciousness. -The lovelorn old codger, fired with jealousy, must have been stalking -the widow's place, mistaken him for a rival and acted under the -dictates of his brandy-befuddled brain. That he had forgotten to -confide the fact of imprisonment to Hardley was evident; but then, he -had neglected to lock the jail. How the ox driver had got possession -of the key was a detail unexplained, but Seymour would never be -sufficiently curious about that to inquire into it. To have been -taken single-handed by Cato was not particularly flattering, even -though the gnome was possessed of superhuman strength. - -"Wasn't Cato hitting the hootch yesterday?" was all he asked of the -driver's employer. - -"He was that," admitted Brewster, "and he had a hang-over this -morning. But how he ever imagined---- Oh, well, there's no harm -done, long as it was only a drunken dream. I was afraid Hardley -would lose another day getting after the Seymour murderers and I -didn't want to see you suffer from his foolishness. But you've -picked a queer place to camp, strikes me. Didn't you know that -Glacier Creek is closed?" - -The sergeant had not heard this and was curious to know how any creek -could be "closed." Brewster told him. The genial old missionary, -Shan O'Malley, had laid the foundation for the situation in the early -days of the rush. With more foresight than many laymen, he had seen -what was coming. To hold the Indians of his congregation, or -whatever he called it, and to keep them from contact with the white -"rushers" as far as possible, he had induced them to claim, stake and -register every foot of bar and bench from the cañon entrance back to -the glacier. To make a close corporation of it, he and his niece -Ruth had staked the two full claims between the cañon gate and the -Cheena. Glacier Creek had not proved a bonanza, but O'Malley did not -seem to care; the laziest Siwash could pan out a living, and the old -man was keeping his flock together. - -Then along came Bonnemort and Kluger, a shrewd pair from somewhere -back in eastern Canada. They saw a chance of operating the Glacier -Creek diggings on a large scale. The Bonnemort of the combination -admitted to being a half-breed, and he knew how to handle the -Siwashes. Before the missionary knew what was up, the pair had -leased every Indian claim beyond the cañon gate. Moreover--and -Brewster was forced to smile appreciatively as he told it--they had -hired the Indians to work their own claims. When all was set, they -posted a "No Trespass" sign and stationed an armed guard at the -narrow entrance. When this sentry turned back the sky-pilot intent -on visiting his flock, the whole district had learned of the coup. - -Brewster said he had been right friendly with Ruth Duperow and her -uncle at that time. Because of their fears that the Siwashes were -being robbed, he had brought Sam Hardley to investigate. The B. & K. -outfit had produced their leases and the Indians denied that they -were being worked against their will. As no established trail ran up -the creek, which was a veritable cul-de-sac because of its glacier -source, Hardley had decided that the leases were within their rights -and that there wasn't a thing to be done about it. The creek was -still closed, and because there was only one entrance--through the -narrow mouth of the cañon, where one man could hold up a regiment--it -was likely to remain so until the within-the-law operators took down -the bars. - -"I lost out with the sky-pilot and Miss Duperow because I wouldn't -storm the gate," Brewster concluded regretfully. "About that time -appeared this Sergeant Seymour, then under cover as a mining expert. -He fell hard for the girl, which is not against him, for there isn't -a finer in all B.C. than Miss Ruth. I don't know what he thought of -the monopoly or what he intended to do when he got into uniform. As -you know, the stage robbers killed him before he got saddled up." - -"What do you make of it yourself?" - -Brewster shrugged his broad shoulders. "I may be prejudiced. You -see, while I lost my best girl, I landed my B. & K. packing contract. -I'll say they pay their bills. Hope you won't think I was trying to -horn into your game by criticizing your camp selection. But I -thought you might not know how things stood on Glacier." - -Seymour thanked him, then glanced into the river. "Maybe I like the -looks of the Cheena," he added. - -"Scouting for dredger people, eh?" Brewster made shrewd surmise. "I -hear they're cleaning up strong in the Klondike. The Cheena ought to -pay rich for anyone with money enough to put in a hydraulic plant. -Remember that Philip Brewster is in the freighter business in case -you begin operations. Good luck to you and goodbye for the present." - -The sergeant watched Brewster ride across the flat to the main trail; -noted that he turned back toward the creeks. Evidently the freighter -had been riding into Gold to effect, as he said, Seymour's release. -An obliging individual, Brewster, even if he had given his fat deputy -friend foolish advice about holding back the Mounted. - -So Glacier was a closed creek. A guarded "gate" had been swung -across its cañon mouth. Upon what? Upon Bart Caswell's something -"richer than gold," he strongly suspected. Perhaps upon the -"sergeant's" slayer as well. Seymour was part Irish; he enjoyed -passing the impassable--or trying to. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -A FIGURE OF SPEECH - -Carrying an empty tin pail from his mess outfit, to lend -borrowing-color to his neighborly call, Seymour trudged openly to the -mission. This proved to be a sizeable log structure without cross or -belfry which served both as dwelling for the missionary and a place -for the Indians to worship. It had been up several years, from the -dead look of the logs. The outlook was upon Glacier Creek rather -than upon the Cheena. A forest of scrubby cedar and fir skirted the -back of it, while not far away was that misplaced rock spur which -formed one flank of the closed cañon. - -His coming was announced in chorus by several malamutes chained to -individual dog houses in the front yard. The venerable sky-pilot -himself was at the front door ready to admit him. - -"You are welcome, brother--more than welcome," was his greeting. -"Your arrival relieves my daughter of the necessity of riding to Gold -to assure us that nothing has happened to you." - -"Your daughter---- I thought I'd met your niece! Circumstances -beyond my control made last night's appointment----" - -Seymour's excuses were interrupted by the sudden entry, from what -seemed to be the kitchen, of Moira, a radiant surprise in a blue -gingham apron below the hem of which showed her riding boots, -testimony that she, not the blond Ruth, had been about to ride to his -rescue. - -"When----?" was all he was able to gasp as he reached out for both -her hands. - -"Last night's stage-- To think that you---- Oh! Ruth has told me -all about how finely you've taken hold of the situation!" - -"And Miss Ruth--where is she?" he asked. - -"She's had a hard blow in the death of a man she had come to trust. -Isn't it enough--glad enough that I'm here, Sergeant Scarlet? I know -you must be hungry after that long ride from town. In a -minute-and-a-half----" - -Seymour reassured her, telling of the precaution he had taken to -cover his visit by establishing camp near by. He pointed to the -bucket. "Anyone seeing me come here with this, surely must take me -for a borrowing neighbor, don't you think? Already I've been spotted -as a scout for a gold-dredging outfit with designs on the Cheena." - -"Then, brother, if you'll pardon me, I'll hand you over to Moira," -said the Missionary. "I'm engaged in a vital work--nothing less than -the translation of the Epistles into Chinook. I try to leave all -temporal affairs to my daughter and my niece for my time is short--my -time is short. You will find her most competent and more fully -informed in the details of this outrageous intrigue than I am myself. -In this grievous time of turmoil which has befallen us, I thank the -good Lord every hour for the return of such a daughter." - -"Father, dear!" she gently hushed him. - -While the girl was engaged in settling him at a table near a window -and arranging his books and papers, Seymour glanced about the -comfortable living room. Every stick of furniture, he perceived, was -frontier made. The few wall decorations were Indian handiwork--rude -carvings in wood, garishly painted; reed basketry of beautiful -design; a bow and arrows, canoe paddles. The floor coverings were -skins that had never been in the hands of a professional taxidermist. -There was an air of home about the place never to be found in the -quarters of the longest established police detachments. In this -instance, probably, it was the touch of Ruth, the grieving cousin, or -of Moira herself before she had put into the Far North in behalf of -her supposedly vagrant brother. - -He crossed to the fireplace in which cedar logs were in a crackling -blaze. Its rock was native galena in which the brownish stains of -iron predominated, but so besprinkled was it with mineral facets as -to look alive where the fire played upon it. On the mantel were a -totem pole and several pieces of carved ivory but no trace of -"Outside," not even a phonograph. Either Moira and Ruth were -satisfied with existence in the wild or did not wish to be reminded -of civilization. - -When Moira rejoined him after having settled her father at his -self-assigned task, Seymour was fingering idly several specimens of -heavy, grayish mineral which lay at the end of the mantel. - -"Frog-gold, my father calls that stuff," said the girl. "It's the -plague of our Glacier Creek placers, cluttering up our sluices and -utterly worthless except in rare instances, such as----" - -She ran her eyes over the specimens and picked out one that was -shaped curiously like a human hand. In the gray palm was a small -nugget of gold, worth possibly a dollar. - -"Take this one as a souvenir of your first visit to the mission," she -said, and held it out to him. - -He had been on the point of asking her for one of the curios, because -of a possible connection with the case that had occurred to him, so -accepted the gift gladly. - -"Do you know the real story of the closing of Glacier Creek, Moira?" -he asked, the matter-in-hand always on his mind. - -"I heard it all last night from father and from Ruth," she assured -him. "This pretended Mountie who has just been murdered made an -inspection of the creek in father's behalf because of his love for my -cousin. It's a trouble creek, I tell you. - -"This Bart Caswell made friends with a hired gunman that Bonnemort -and Kluger had on guard and slipped into the gulch where the claims -are located. He showed great skill in keeping under cover and was -not discovered until the next afternoon, by which time he had seen -more than enough. - -"His report," Moira went on, "was worse than father had feared. The -conscienceless scoundrels had made slaves of all our people, plying -them with liquor and working them heartrending hours under the whip. -Bart thought the slavers knew their days of oppression were numbered, -and were trying to strip the claims of their treasure in the shortest -possible time. Undoubtedly the guard at the gate was as much to keep -the slaves in as the whites out. Isn't that an intolerable state of -affairs? Do you wonder that father is beside himself with anxiety, -realizing his impotence until Canada wakes up to what is going on?" - -There was no doubting her honest rage, or that it was unselfish, as -neither her cousin's claim nor her father's was being plundered. - -"Did I understand you to say that Bart was discovered up the gulch?" -Seymour asked. - -"Bonnemort himself discovered him slipping through the brush near one -of their long sluice boxes," Moira informed him. "He would have -beaten Bart to death had not his partner happened along. Kluger, who -evidently is the brains of the combination, didn't want a white man -murdered 'on the works,' as he put it. They brought Bart to the gate -and literally kicked him into the open, warning him that he'd have no -second chance. If ever they caught him trying to spy on them again, -they threatened to shoot him on sight." - -Seymour recalled the widow's version, undoubtedly the true one -concerning Bart's motives and mental processes regarding the Glacier -Creek plunderers. "Until that uniform fell into his hands, he did -not see any way of getting the best of them," Mrs. Caswell had told -him. - -Bart's plan from that point was easily deduced. Once in uniform, it -had been necessary for him to "stall" in regard to the Tabor -murder--to checkmate Hardley with any citizens' investigation by -pretending to make his own. He seemed to have found time, too, for a -reassuring visit with Ruth Duperow and perhaps to advance whatever -personal game he was playing with the girl. - -Yesterday morning the imposter had set out for the guarded cañon on -Glacier Creek, counting on the magic of the Mounted uniform, which, -for once, had failed to cast its wonted spell. Possibly this failure -was because the plunderers had recognized the counterfeit. But the -sergeant was not ready to credit that explanation. He preferred to -think that it pointed to the desperation of the gold strippers, who -would not hesitate to add the murder of a non-commissioned officer to -their other crimes. - -The sergeant was forced to admit to himself the neatness of Bart's -scheme as he now surmised it. Had the uniform "worked," the fake -sergeant would have taken the B. & K. clean-up, ostensibly to hold it -until the courts adjudicated the Indians' claims. Once the treasure -was in his possession, he would have made off with it over the -conveniently near Alaskan border and escaped with it on some -southbound steamer that touched at no British Columbian port. Just -possibly, because of that gift of tongue with women of which Seymour -already had seen evidence, Bart would have persuaded Ruth Duperow to -accompany him. - -"I'll give the Glacier diggings a look-over," he said with a decision -that was not as sudden as it sounded, and got to his feet. - -Seymour's expression showed as little concern as though he proposed -going to the door to glance at the weather prospects. He was not -underrating the risks that would come with an attempt to work from -the inside out; but he was ignoring them so far as any surface -indication was concerned. From the scout he was determined to make, -he had every hope of getting the needed direct evidence; at least, he -would determine what was "richer than gold" that had led Bart Caswell -to tempt fate once too often. - -"You'll never get past the gate!" Moira cried in despair and possibly -some disappointment that he had taken her own arrival so placidly. -"Bonnemort himself has taken charge of the guard there. He was there -yesterday morning and yelled to Ruth: 'Tell your friend a uniform -makes a fine target!' It was that renewed threat that sent her -toward town with her too-late warning. This morning, since you had -been delayed, I went over to the creek. He was there, but kept -silent--even when I called him a murderer. I tell you, Sergeant -Scarlet, darling, the cañon is closed!" - -Seymour smiled his appreciation of the care she was showing in his -behalf. So she had dared call Bonnemort a murderer to his face! The -wonder was she hadn't drawn a bullet for herself instead of silence. - -"I'm figuring on coming _out_ through the cañon, Moira dear--sort of -unlatching the gate from the inside. There must be another way in." -Seymour's tone was confident, although the other way of which he -spoke was yet to be found. - -"There _is_ another way in!" - -This welcome declaration boomed upon their ears from the old -missionary at his desk under the window. Evidently he had not been -so absorbed in his Biblical translation as they had thought him. Now -he pushed back his chair and crossed to the fireplace. - -"I discovered this other way while exploring the spur last spring, -just before this curse of gold fell upon us," he explained. "Had I -known what Bart was up to, I'd have shown him this secret way. I did -not actually enter the gulch by it, not trusting muscles that are -getting ragged with age, but you can, brother, if your head is level, -your fingers and toes strong." - -"Score one for the sky-pilot of Argonaut!" cried his daughter, -throwing her arms around his neck and patting him on the back. -"Since they've smitten us on every cheek we possess, it's high time -we smote them back." - -In planning for the hazardous attempt immediately, Moira O'Malley's -insistence on going along proved a complication. Before the sergeant -realized her trend, he had admitted knowing only a smattering of -Chinook. The girl, it seemed, spoke the tongue of the provincial -Indians fluently. - -"These Siwashes are by no means as dumb as they look," she said. -"They will know who left the diggings on this murder ride yesterday -morning. They'll tell me and then you'll know the man you're after." - -Seymour at once rejected her offer as rash beyond reason. Her -father, however, seemed passive, perhaps silenced by his admiration -for her courage. - -"Why, I'll be safe enough with such an officer as you to protect me," -Moira declared. "Think what you've already done for me!" - -But her trustfulness did not appeal in this extremity. Seymour -insisted that such a piece of scouting was no work for a woman. She -might cross-examine her Siwashes after he had cleared the creek of -whites, but not before. In the end, therefore, there was a -compromise, to the extent that Moira should come as far as the edge -of the gulch--to see that her father got home safely. - -The sergeant departed from the mission openly, carrying his tin pail. -He even hoped that the house was, as the girl feared, being watched -through a glass from the cañon's mouth. At his camp, he made hurried -preparations, pocketing a supply of "hard" rations and extra -cartridges for his gun. Down in the meadow, he unpicketed both -horses. They could be trusted to stay near the tent and, in case his -return was delayed, they must not suffer from want of grass and -water. Although the Rev. O'Malley had said nothing about need of a -rope for his "other way in," Seymour quickly spliced the two picket -strings and coiled the length over his shoulder. Gaining cover of -the timber, he made his way as rapidly as possible to the rear of the -mission house where the O'Malleys awaited him. - -The spur proved a hard climb and the missionary needed help over -several of the rougher places. But at length he brought them to a -point where the sheer wall of the boxed-in gulch was many feet lower -than the remainder. - -Even there, a dizzy drop intervened between the top and a narrow -ledge that promised a path to timber line for one who was certain of -foot. The old man pointed out certain crevices and projections by -which a daring climber might work his way down to the ledge; but the -sergeant was glad he had brought his rope with which to simplify the -start. - -The risk that anyone would catch sight of him as he lowered himself -seemed slim, for the creek at this point was some distance away and a -thick growth of fir lay between. At any rate, this was a risk to be -taken; he must negotiate that ledge in daylight. - -"You'll come out at the Indian burying ground," said the missionary. -"I'm sure it lies in front of this dip in the wall. Conceal yourself -there for the night. The Siwashes will be anywhere else after -darkness falls." - -With this sage advice, the veteran missionary started back over the -trail, his mind already speeding to other matters now that he had -done all he might in the one at hand. - -For just a moment the lovers who had been through so many trying -experiences enjoyed their first interval alone since the Montreal -parting. This was more mental than physical in view of the stress of -the situation. - -"You've explained to Ruth?" Seymour asked presently. - -"In part--that you're the real Russell Seymour. She still thinks -that this Bart was an officer but using your name for some official -reason. I haven't told father about Oliver yet, and--should I tell -him?" - -As often, Seymour's expression was an enigma to her. - -"Not yet," he said finally. "It just may take some of the sting away -if you can present him with a son-in-law in partial place of his -first-born who cannot be returned." - -"You think, Russell--oh, do you think you are on the track----" - -"I'll get him--Karmack--somewhere," he assured her. - -Having knotted his rope at fifteen-inch intervals, the sergeant made -one end fast to a sturdy young cedar which grew near the edge and -cast the loose end into the cañon. As nearly as he could determine -by peering over, the hemp reached almost, if not quite, to the ledge. - -"How soon shall we look for your return?" Moira asked a bit -hysterically when all was ready. - -"When I come out through the cañon gate." He hoped his laugh was -reassuring. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -WHEN MORNING CAME - -The rope proved long enough but there was no overhang. And the ledge -was a path down the face of the cliff, but so fragmentary that many -times the hold of his fingers forced into crevices alone made it -passable. At the very start, an apparently solid piece broke off -under his weight and almost cast him into the depths. After that -lesson, which came so near to being his last, he sidled along the -wall so that his toes might set as near the face of it as possible. - -Fifty feet from the bottom of the gulch the ledge ended. He was -forced to stake all on a hazardous leap into the top of the nearest -fir tree. While the upper branches gave under his hundred and eighty -pounds and countless needles pricked him, his fall was broken and -eventually stayed by the stouter limbs below. - -In the gathering dusk he gained the burial ground of which O'Malley -had spoken. Familiar as he was with the native customs of the -Northland, he felt thankful, when this settlement of the dead loomed -up in the gloom, that he had been prepared for the spectral effect. -Built on stilts above each grave were huts of bizarre woodwork. In -each, he knew, were housed the particular personal treasures of some -departed brave, but nothing of intrinsic worth. - -Seymour was not superstitious and, much as he might have preferred -other habitation for the night, he did not hesitate to borrow a -lodging here. Selecting the most commodious of the "hatches," he -climbed under its roof. Although this particular 8x10 boot-box -boasted both a spire and a dome it was open on one side, presumably -for the purpose of exhibiting a black bottle, an alarm clock from -which the works had been removed, and other heirlooms of some Siwash -gone to happier hunting grounds. It offered a measure of protection, -however, against the chill that came with darkness. As he had no -blanket and dared not light a fire, this "spook roost," as he thought -of it, was more than welcome. - -A short distance up the creek from his refuge and on the opposite -bank lay an Indian camp of four or five families, to judge by the -number of supper fires. He watched the natives through their meal, -the while munching a tasteless emergency ration that was guaranteed -to be rich in calories. - -The Indian camp proved unusually quiet. He had heard Eskimo hunting -parties make far more of a powwow around their night fires of -blubber. There was no ribald song or laughter, no fighting, which -were to be expected if the despoilers were supplying the natives with -liquor, as Moira had told the sergeant. - -The yelping of many hungry dogs warned him of the folly of trying to -scout the camp under cover of darkness. He decided to stay where he -was and to begin his explorations in the morning when work was under -way. Gradually, with the fires, the noise of the camp died out, as -if the sleeping mats were superattractive to the natives after a hard -day's work on the placers. - -Politics made strange bedfellows, Seymour had heard. Well, he stood -ready to testify that police duty in the Argonaut Valley brought one -to strange beds, too. His first night in a jail bunk; his second in -a Siwash mausoleum! And on both occasions, nothing softer than his -hat for a pillow! - -But the murmur of the rushing creek and the soughing of the firs -invited sleep; he yielded to the lullaby. - -A crash like thunder awoke him at one time in the night, but he found -the sky clear on looking out. Not until a second report came could -he locate the source--the glacier in which the creek had its source. -The green monster was sloughing off its ice. There came variations -in the alarm whenever new crevasses were split with a terrific, -smashing noise. - -The worst start of the night, however, came in a sense of falling and -landing with a thump that shook every bone in his body. That he had -fallen and landed, not dreamed the sensations, became clear when he -found himself on the ground and looking up at the hut. He had rolled -out of "bed." - -Seymour was up the next morning with the klootchmen, and they arose -with the sun. Before the Indian camp was thoroughly awake, he had -slipped out of the burying ground and gained the cover of the timber -fringe along the south wall of the gulch. - -From what he could see now of the formation, he determined that -Glacier Creek was not as inaccessible as reputed. There were other -possible entrances, at least one of which appeared less hazardous -than that by which he had come. In the past, the natural entrance to -the cañon had always been open and no one had ever found it necessary -to work out another. - -Refreshing himself at a spring upon which he had stumbled, he turned -first to an investigation of the cañon a quarter of a mile below. So -nearly did the wings of the rocky spur meet that there was scarcely a -hundred feet between walls at the narrowest point. Through this gap, -Glacier Creek poured without hindrance. Along the opposite wall ran -a wagon-width trail. - -At a point about halfway through the cañon stood two tents, the -canvas of which still was white. Doubtless this was the camp of the -guards and, perhaps, that of the promoters of the steal. Just now he -was satisfied with placing this camp; close investigation could wait -until he learned what "richer than gold" was being gleaned up the -gulch. - -Slowly he worked up the stream, keeping back from the bank and well -screened by the brush. Breakfast was over at the camp near which he -had spent the night. Twenty Indians, men and women, were at work -picking and shoveling in a near-by bench and wheeling loaded barrows -to a long wooden sluice box into which a small stream of water had -been diverted. The onlooker was puzzled that they were working with -such seeming good-will. In fact, he had never seen natives so -industrious. Nowhere was any whip-armed master visible. - -A blast from upstream did not concern him greatly, as he thought the -glacier was cutting daylight capers. But when other reverberations -crashed out at regular intervals, he felt certain that dynamite was -being exploded. This would explain why the Siwashes were able to -work so freely in the frozen gravel and gave color to Bart's report -that the claims were being "stripped." - -Exercising the utmost caution, he worked his way eastward until he -crouched opposite an exaggerated "ant hill" of activity, undoubtedly -the scene of major operations. There were three sluices here, near a -bench that had been shattered by a recent explosion. No crew of -white miners could have shown greater industry or fewer lost motions -than the natives at work there. And as below, he saw no sign of a -white oppressor. - -Then, from a tent near the Indian encampment, there emerged a brawny -man who answered the O'Malleys' description of Bonnemort, he who -nearly had done for Bart. Six feet two or three and built from the -soles up, he stood looking over the busy scene. - -In a flash, Seymour recognized the red-headed man who had insisted on -sending wine to the young Mounties in that Montreal cabaret. -Something of a change of scene, this; but not so surprising in -Canada--land of far-flung opportunities. - -The sergeant surmised this to be the alleged breed's first appearance -of the morning. Confirmation came with the appearance of a young -squaw bearing a tray of breakfast which she spread on a rough table -before the tent. Indeed, this breed must have a "way" with the -Siwashes, thought the sergeant, to command from them such competent -service. From his reserved seat in the brush, he envied him the cup -of steaming coffee and, later, the cigar which the autocrat of the -wild lighted. This last was particularly tantalizing to one whose -pipe must perforce remain cold. - -Presently came a small man on horseback, all-white, puttee-clad, and, -on reasonable supposition, one Kluger by name. Dismounted, the new -arrival, reputed to be the "brains of the outfit," did not come to -his partner's shoulder; but from the rapidity of his movements, -Seymour judged that his small frame concealed a dynamo of energy. -The two conferred a moment, then started toward the sluice box. - -Peering from behind the bushes, Seymour felt as though he were -watching some well-lighted motion picture. He saw Bonnemort call a -couple of Siwashes to them; but no word of their conversations -reached him. - -For an hour he watched them as they directed the morning clean-up of -the treasure gathered on the riffles--cross cleats of wood on the -bottom of the sluice troughs--from the pay dirt washed the previous -day. One departure from the regular placer practice stood out. The -gleaners carried two sacks, one twice the size of the other. At -every riffle, contributions were made to each. - -If this was a division of the yield between the managing sharpers and -working owners, it seemed unnecessarily clumsy. Why did it need to -be done on the dump in such piecemeal fashion? Both parties to the -proceeding seemed satisfied, however. There was no haggling, not -even discussion over the division, if such it really was. - -In the end, the two whites, between them, carried the larger and -heavier sack to Bonnemort's tent, while the two Indians who had made -the cleaning carried off the smaller bag to one of their wickiups. - -After spending several minutes within the tent, behind closed flaps, -the partners came out and started down-stream, Bonnemort walking with -long strides beside the mounted Kluger. To the sergeant, the -supposition seemed reasonable that they were bound for a clean-up at -the lower diggings and that, for a time, the upper creek would be -free of whites. He decided upon a bold stroke, the success of which -would depend upon how far the Siwashes had been taken into confidence. - -Going down the creek bank in the brush until he was out of sight of -the camp, he gained the trail and started back. He walked as openly -as though he belonged to the outfit; stopped at several points to -look critically at the work being done, then strode on with a nod or -grunt of approval. None challenged his advance; not even a look -questioned him. He entered the tent as though he had every right to -do so, as, indeed, he had, although it was a right of a different -sort than any who observed him might have imagined. - -As the canvas flaps fell behind him, he made a rapid survey of the -interior--two folding cots with bedding, camp stools, a table built -of empty dynamite boxes with the labels of the "Kingdom Come" brand -much in evidence, and an improvised clothes horse hung with an -assortment of masculine apparel. His particular interest settled on -what looked like a carpenter's tool chest, but which, for want of any -likelier container, he took to be the camp's treasury box. Without -much hope; he stooped and tried the lid. It was locked. - -In the act of kneeling to examine this, the tent was suffused in -sunlight from the opening of a flap. He straightened and turned as a -young squaw entered, her head bound in a bright-colored bandanna. -Possibly she was the fastidious Bonnemort's chambermaid, he thought, -come to make the bed. His heart was pounding. An alarm would ruin -all. - -"_Kla-how-yah!_" she grunted the usual Chinook greeting, but evinced -no surprise at finding him in the tent. - -"Don't mind me," he managed to reply with a well assumed assurance, -hoping she at least could understand English, even though she did not -speak it. - -But she spoke it, and to his utter consternation. "Right good -make-up if it fools a Mountie," she said with a lilting laugh that -was controlled not to carry beyond the canvas. "How do you like me -as a _klootch_?" - -"Moira!" he whispered. - -"None other, Sergeant Scarlet." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -TENT-TOLD TALES - -Seymour stood and stared at the young woman, marveling at her -complete transformation. A right good make-up, she had called it. -He could truthfully make the statement stronger. When her eyes were -hidden and her voice stilled, all trace of his beloved was gone. She -looked as Siwash as though she had been born on the trail of a squaw -mother and had passed her babyhood strapped to a board. - -The fine lines of her slim young figure were swathed in rags after -the fashion of the North Coast native women. Waist line was nil, her -makeshift skirt seemed to drop from her shoulders. For a one-piece -garment, it certainly was of pieces, patched and pinned and tied -together. He doubted if she could step out of it without taking it -apart. - -To her complexion she had done something to give it a rich copper -tinge. The hands were stained to match. Her lips had been thickened -with paint lines and over her patrician nose ran a series of blue -lines, a counterfeit of the tattooing with which the Argonaut native -women disfigure themselves. A finger tied up in a soiled rag added -the last touch of verisimilitude. - -Recovering from his first shock, Seymour reminded himself of their -situation. "Didn't I make it plain yesterday that your coming here -was beyond all reason?" he demanded almost petulantly. - -"Not so far beyond as myself," she murmured rebelliously. "I'm here, -am I not? And you'll find me more reasonable for having had my own -way." - -She intended following him from the first, she admitted, and for that -reason she had watched his descent from the top of the cliff, marking -the difficulties he had overcome. After helping her father back to -the mission, she had given her evening to make-up and costume. She -left home before daybreak. - -"Do you mean to say you tip-toed that ledge and made the jump into -the fir tree?" he asked incredulously. - -She shook her head, flashing him a smile. "I profited by watching -you. I came all the way down by rope, bringing an extra coil, ready -knotted, from the mission and tying it to the end of yours." - -"But you won't be able to fool the squaws!" he observed, again -looking troubled. - -"Haven't tried. They think I slipped in to see how they are faring -and togged out as one of them that the whites would not suspect my -visit. They seem pleased--perhaps flattered--and will keep my -secret." - -Seymour did not relish the situation created by her persistence. The -girl's presence was a grave complication. It handicapped him just -when his investigation was advancing with unexpected smoothness. But -now that she was in, his duty was to get her out safely. - -"And how are your Indian wards faring?" he asked, by way of gaining -time to figure out the safest, most expeditious exit for her. - -"They puzzle me for they have no complaint," she answered. "Either -conditions have changed or that imposter was sadly misled in his -observations. Actually, the Indians seem to look upon Bonnemort and -Kluger as benefactors. '_Hiyu skookum_ Boston men,' they call the -rascals." - -"B. & K. are taking the bulk of the clean-up," Seymour told her. "I -watched the divvy when they stripped the sluices out front this -morning." - -"But that doesn't seem possible," Moira protested. "I hear from two -of my most trusted klootchmen that the Indians are given _all_ the -gold." - -Seymour seemed not to have heard. He was. crossing to the front of -the wall tent where, beneath the table, he had sighted a sack exactly -like the treasure-weighted one he had seen the partners carry from -the creek. But if this was the same, it had been emptied. - -"All the gold, I said," repeated the girl, impatient at his seeming -lack of attention to her astonishing report. "What do you make of -that, Sergeant Scarlet?" - -"I'll say that is right kind and unbelievably generous of B. & K. and -that a right lively surprise is awaiting my Irisher when I get her -out of jeopardy." - -The sergeant had upturned the sack and was shaking it. A single -jagged lump, evidently held in the fabric when the sack had been -dumped, thudded to the ground. Both leaned over to examine it. The -girl straightened first. - -"More of that old frog-gold," she said with another low, aggravating -laugh. - -Seymour picked up the specimen. It was of the same grayish, metallic -substance as the hand-shaped piece which Moira had given him at the -mission. This one, however, held no yellow offering. - -"Richer than gold!" In thought, Seymour murmured Bart's exclamation -of promise to Mrs. Caswell. - -He believed that at last he knew the answer to one part of the -Glacier Creek riddle. But he said nothing to the girl about his -hopes as he pocketed the fragment. - -"You said the Siwashes would tell you which of the two men rode away -from the gulch, the morning of the murder," he reminded her. "Did -they?" - -"That's another peculiar thing," she replied, lines of perplexity -wrinkling her stained brow. "My _klootchmen_ friends insist that -both Kluger and Bonnemort were here as usual all that morning. They -made _hiyu_ clean-up--gathered much gold--that Thursday morning and -are positive they are not mistaken about the kind white men. The -Indians haven't heard that Bart was murdered; they still are -chuckling at the way he was run out of the gulch." - -"That would seem to leave us cold--as cold as we are on the trail of -that scoundrel Karmack, wouldn't it?" - -Not a flicker did the girl show to indicate that she had hope of -hearing something in that particular get-your-man direction. - -But within the tent Seymour saw something else to convince him that -the search for Bart's slayer was exceedingly "warm." In the presence -of this second inanimate witness, he was more anxious than ever to -get the girl safely out of the gulch--before the fireworks. - -"I'm nearly through in here," he went on. "Have you planned how you -will get yourself out?" - -"I can go back the way I came, I suppose," she answered with a pout -that was not as effective as it would have been had she been -naturally clad. "But I thought you were going to open the cañon -gate--from the inside out?" - -"Even so, I can't have you within range when I--when I pick the lock." - -"You mean--you mean there may be some shooting?" she demanded with -suppressed excitement. - -He did not like the gleam of hope that seemed to shine in her eyes. -"You've done your part, Moira--more than any other woman would have -dared to do. I wonder if I can trust you to wait for me in that -graveyard down the creek?" - -"To sit and idly wait when I might have a hand in the excitement!" -she moaned. "Being a woman is an awful handicap, Sergeant Scarlet." - -"That will be the helping part in this crime clean-up," he assured -her, "to sit and wait. And if I do not come for you, you are to make -your own way back to the mission and wait some more until other -Mounties arrive to settle the score. You've done enough; leave the -rest to me." - -Moira protested that she had accomplished nothing but the ruin of -their theories. Couldn't she do something constructive? - -"We are done with theories and it's time I demonstrate some facts," -said the sergeant in a convincing tone. "I feel certain I can -promise you the arrest of Bart's slayer if you'll go at once to the -hide-out I suggested." - -"But the _klootchmen_ said----" - -"Squaw talk--forget it." He was growing impatient. "Likely they -don't know one day from another. Any moment Bonnemort may return. -Don't risk his seeing you. Please go while there is time!" He -turned to the tent front and held back one of its flaps. - -"Moira unwelcome--a new sensation!" she murmured disappointedly, then -shuffled out of the tent with the flat-footed walk of an Argonaut -squaw. - -The sergeant watched her a moment. How brave, how resourceful she -was! Then he turned and focused his gaze on an overturned boot that -lay near the improvised clothes horse. - -This was a right boot, according to the sole of it. Staring at him -from the outer edge of that sole was a peculiar plate, presumably to -counteract the wear of some foot lameness or a peculiarity of gait. -As plainly as if it had been articulate, this told him; "The man who -wears me killed Bart Caswell!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -CLUTCH OF THE BREED - -Making her way down Glacier Creek, giving no attention to the working -Siwashes and receiving none from them, Moira O'Malley wondered what -discovery this enigma of the Mounted had held back from her. She did -not resent particularly his lack of confidence, feeling that she had -not earned it. That he seemed to disbelieve what the _klootchmen_ -had told her of the continued presence of the white and near-white -spoilers at once troubled and gratified her. She hated to think that -the Indian women would mislead her; but she did want the slayer of -her cousin's sweetheart captured and punished. Hope of that seemed -built on the Thursday morning absence of either Kluger or his partner. - -At the start of this requested exit, the girl did not hurry, but -ambled along squaw fashion. Once across the creek and out of sight -of the upper diggings, she meant to take to the brush. The Glacier -natives would see her no more until Seymour came for her. That he -would come for her--that he would be able to come for her, she did -not doubt. From the moment she had seen him stride into the tent of -Bonnemort as if he owned it, she had felt certain of his ultimate -success. - -She reached the creek and was about to climb to the foot log when she -heard some one start across it from the other side. Raising the eyes -which she had held downcast throughout the walk from the tent, she -saw, with a tremor of alarm, that Bonnemort had beaten her to the -improvised bridge. She sidled away from the log's end and seemed -intent on watching the stream. Of course, the up-risen breed would -be above noticing a squaw drudge, but she preferred to take no -unnecessary chances. - -With eyes steadily averted, she waited. The heavy steps drew nearer -as the big man set his feet on the flattened surface. Then suddenly, -they ceased. He had halted at the end of the log. - -"Look up here, you _klootch_!" - -The tone was that of a request, but it brought to the girl a sudden -chill of terror. She dared not look up, yet scarcely dared she -refuse. - -Evidently patience with a squaw was not held a virtue by the master. -"Sulky, eh?" he grumbled and sprang down from the log to stand -directly in front of her. Reaching out, he took her chin between -thumb and forefinger and tilted it until her stained face looked up -into his. - -"A new one, ain't you?" he asked. "Thought I hadn't seen you before, -princess." - -A look came into his dark eyes that frightened her more. Not daring -to utter protest for fear her Chinook would betray her, she cuffed at -the hand which held her and broke his hold. Bonnemort's chuckle -sounded more ominous to her than an imprecation. - -"A Siwash _klootch_ with spirit--and a beauty to boot!" he exclaimed. -"There is something new under the sun. Your light's been hidden long -enough, young wildcat. Take a stroll up to my tent and we'll talk it -over." - -His huge hand closed upon her shoulder with a firm grasp, but without -undue violence. When he started back to camp, she stepped, perforce, -at his side. Although tall for a woman, the red-haired breed was -head and shoulders above her, and she recognized a captor that could -only be circumvented by guile. - -He tried her out with several impertinent questions. Was she -married? What would she take for a kiss? Did she like white men, -the big bear kind? - -He seemed to disown the Indian blood that was reputed to flow in his -veins. Evidently he spoke little Chinook, for he complained at her -refusal to understand English. - -As they strolled slowly along, Moira wasted no thought on -self-censure. Seymour had been right--her exploit was absolutely -wild. Escape she must, but if humanly possible by her own wit, -without involving the Mountie or even disturbing him in his -investigation. A plan flashed into her mind and she hastened to -perfect it. - -With just the reluctance she thought her role required, she -accompanied him to the placers. The Siwash men who looked up from -their mining grinned at her or turned stolidly away. It was nothing -to them that this skookum Boston chief saw fit to pay attention to -one of their women. No hope of help lay in that quarter. - -When she reached that section of the placer where the two squaws to -whom she had disclosed herself earlier in the morning were working a -sluice, she began to struggle, hoping they would come to her rescue -without disclosing her identity. But with her first jerk, -Bonnemort's fingers tightened like a vise, as though he had been -expecting some such move. She continued to struggle. - -Fear that Seymour had gone into ambush within the tent and would come -to her aid, to the upsetting of all his plans, kept her from crying -out for help. One of the squaws did throw down her shovel and start -toward her, but the other called her back. They whispered a moment, -then turned their backs and resumed their toil. - -Even the realization that her Indian friends, hardened by the sorcery -of too much gold, had failed her, did not lift her voice. At the -head of the creek, she glimpsed the glacier imbedded in the -mountainside like a gigantic prism, its innumerable facets reflecting -the sunlight in all the colors of the rainbow. On either side lay a -fringe of brush and timber. All these invited her, offering -sanctuary from a fate that promised to be worse than death. But -first, before she could flee to the hope of escape they held out, she -must break the clutch of Bonnemort, the half-breed. - -As she twisted and squirmed, her nails marked his face with furrowing -scratches; but the smart of these seemed only to inflame him the -more. As penalty, he demanded a kiss then and there where all her -tribe could see. In the struggle to enforce his low-voiced decree, -the bandanna that bound Moira's head fell to the ground. Her -marvelous hair was revealed. - -Both hands seized her and held her off, as helpless in his clutch as -though she had been a child. For a moment his eyes enjoyed the oddly -masked beauty of her. But soon, with comprehension, there entered a -new light--that of recognition. - -"So!" he muttered, baring his teeth as an angry beast bares its -fangs. Transferring his hold to her streaming hair, Bonnemort flung -the girl from her feet and started to drag her toward the tent. - -At last, all other hope gone, Moira O'Malley screamed for help---the -help of her Mountie. The green old glacier broadcasted her distress, -reverberating her shrieks until the gulch rang with them. - - -Within Bonnemort's tent "Scarlet" Seymour knelt before a chest, the -lock of which he had just succeeded in breaking. He was staring with -dilated eyes upon the real wealth of the Glacier Creek placers--truly -richer than gold. - -As he reached out his fingers to run them through the heaping gray -wealth, a scream sounded. It might have been the cry of a buzzard -soaring in the blue above the camp. - -But the next moment the shriek took definite form as a human's cry -for help. Then came the shrill of his name--a long-drawn "Russell!" - -In a flash he comprehended. Moira had been discovered and had fallen -into the hands of the despoilers. Without closing the lid of the -treasure chest, he sprang to his feet and lunged out of the tent. A -hundred yards down the path, he saw the breed and the girl in -desperate struggle. Toward the scene of the unequal combat hastened -a score of Argonaut natives. - -Seymour charged down the incline. "Coming, Moira!" he shouted. - -The breed heard and flung his intended victim from him to the rocks. -One glance at the oncoming figure enlightened him. "Wolves run in -pairs!" he exclaimed. "And die together!" - -Moira saw him draw a revolver. Had he fired from the hip, her -opportunity never would have come. But Bonnemort, confident in the -distance that still separated him from the unknown rescuer, paused to -take aim. The girl's fingers had closed around a rock. With all her -might she hurled it at his head. - -Her aim was poor, but its faultiness proved fortunate. The missile -struck Bonnemort's wrist as his finger pressed the trigger. The -bullet went wild. The gun was knocked from his hand and was thrown, -by some muscular freak, within Moira's reach. - -For a second, Bonnemort stood nursing his injured wrist; then, with a -snarled curse, he sprang to recover his weapon. But Seymour, at the -end of his rush, crowded him off; the girl seized the gun and -scrambled to her feet. - -She could not understand why the sergeant did not draw and declare -himself. As the enemy already had fired, he was no longer under -restraint of that Quixotic slogan. - -Bonnemort, too, looked puzzled, but evidently took heart from his -foe's restraint, for he advanced threateningly. Fearing that Seymour -would be no match in a rough-and-tumble, Moira tried to press the -miner's gun upon him, but the sergeant waved her back. - -"Hold off the Siwashes," he demanded. "This brute has a beating -coming to him." - -Bonnemort advanced with a chortle of joy, delighted that luck favored -him with the respite of physical combat. So many things could happen -in a battle of fists. The man-to-man struggle was on. - -After his initial rush, which the sergeant cleverly side-stepped, the -breed's main idea seemed to be to throw his powerful arms about his -opponent. Except for occasional swings, which would have knocked -Seymour out had they found their mark, his efforts were directed to -this end. - -The sergeant had his Armistice detail to thank for his ability to -evade. The Eskimo of the Arctic foreshore is above average height, -large muscled and trained by occasional necessity to battle with -Polar bears. When boxing matches were put on at the detachment, in -lieu of other diversion, Seymour had acted as instructor. His -greatest difficulty had been to break his pupils of "hugging" and to -teach them that a punch was more effective than a clinch any day or -where. As a result, he was not only trained to the minute, but -highly practiced in slipping out of clinches. - -From the first, Bonnemort fought like the Eskimo, trying again and -again for a crushing embrace. With each vain effort, Seymour exacted -punishment with jabs and cuts to the face. Never was he caught by -the other's powerful arms. - -For the alleged half-breed, the contest was soon sanguinary. His -eyes and lips suffered and his nose became grotesque. On the other -hand, Seymour was practically unmarked except for a lump on his -forehead and a splotch on his cheek where Bonnemort's fist had -touched him. - -_Klootchmen_ and braves had come from all parts of the diggings and -stood in an irregular circle, staring in open-eyed wonder at the -battle. Moira was having an easy task keeping them back, although -she still held the gun ready. No partisan spirit developed. If -anything, their grunts at clinches evaded and blows sent home favored -the strange, more compact fighter. The sergeant was unknown to them, -but the fact that the mission girl sponsored him with gun point was -enough for them. - -Bonnemort's wind was first to fail him and for an untimed round or -two, Seymour played for him with hard punches to the body at every -opportunity. It became clear that the spoiler's bulk was more "beef" -than muscle. He was becoming a spectacle. His rushes lost their -force; his swings grew hopelessly wild; his guard, never effective, -broke down entirely. - -"Punishment enough for manhandling you?" Seymour asked Moira, as the -whirligig of battle brought him facing her. - -"Yes--yes, he's paid!" she cried. - -The sergeant waded in then, regardless of the embrace he no longer -feared. He beat Bonnemort to his knees. No _coup de grâce_ was -necessary, as the overgrown miner was blubbering for mercy. The -Siwash gallery was beginning to grumble that none was delivered when -they saw the victor produce a pair of handcuffs and snap them on the -defeated one's wrists. Bonnemort seemed too dazed to notice the -official trend in the situation, until-- - -"I arrest you, Harry Karmack, in the name of the King for the murder -of Oliver O'Malley, at Armistice, Northwest Territories." - -Stunned by the surprise of his capture, turned white by the shock of -the unexpected charge, the former factor stared about him wildly. - -As for Moira O'Malley, the double surprise was almost too much. -Fright had prevented her recognition of the familiar features of her -Northern suitor now that his hair was turned to red; and all through -the hunt, no hint had come to her from the close-lipped sleuth of the -open places that the man he had sworn to "get" had raised his hand -against her brother. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -BOOT AND BOOTY - -"You'd best behave, Karmack." Seymour accented the name of surprise -that the girl might become convinced that their hunt was really done. -"Your dyed pate don't fool me and I'm no longer bound by our slogan -of 'never fire first.' You took a couple of first shots up in the -Arctic, remember, and have just tried another here. One false move -and you get yours." - -Karmack stood very still. "What do you mean by that murder talk, -Seymour?" he asked after a moment in which, evidently, he realized -the folly of further denial of identity. "I may have squeezed a -little from the grasping old Arctic to give me a start in British -Columbia, but I swear I had nothing to do with the strangling of -young O'Malley." - -Moira still seemed puzzled. "I thought-- Didn't the jury say that -Avic, the Eskimo--" She could not finish for emotion. - -"It takes two men to use the Ugiuk-line effectively," Seymour -explained to the girl. "I know, for I've had one around my own neck -and barely broke out of the clutch. This fiend hired Avic to help -him put your brother away--hired him with promise of a trip Outside -to be tried for murder. Can you imagine! Now it will be ex-Factor -Karmack who takes the trip--Inside." - -Karmack moved restlessly, with the result of tightening the -sergeant's grip. "But man, what motive could I possibly have had?" -he begged nervously. "What motive?" - -"From some outside source you learned that O'Malley had been sent to -Armistice to investigate you and you knew that, despite your best -efforts, he had succeeded in getting the goods. What you didn't know -was that already he had sent out his report. I've been almost sure -of your guilt ever since I learned that those black and silver fox -pelts came from your old company's store room, two of the lot you -held out on your employers." - -Seymour turned to Moira. "Would you mind, dear, telling those -Siwashes to get back to work? Please convince them who I am and that -I've taken charge in the king's name. That always goes strong with -Indians. Make them understand that none of them is to leave the -diggings." - -Moira seemed to shake herself together from this blow he had -delivered with all possible mercy. "I don't exactly understand, -friend, but I thank you." She stepped into the circle of wondering -natives and repeated his orders in Chinook. - -"But he wears no uniform," objected one in English. - -"He needs no scarlet tunic," the girl replied. "_He is the law_." -This also she repeated in their jargon of gutturals. - -On order, Karmack led the way to the tent. Seymour followed close -behind with his arm supporting Moira, who seemed a bit unsteady. - -There was a groan from the pretended half-breed when he saw that the -lid of the treasure chest was thrown back. - -"Since when did the Force take to breaking the locks of honest men?" -he snarled. - -Instead of answering, Seymour slammed down the lid and motioned his -old enemy to seat himself upon the chest. Then he crossed the tent -and picked up the tell-tale boot. Returning with it, he made a -comparison. - -"Thought so," he murmured. - -There was no need for further measuring and he tossed the gear under -the table. Karmack had the biggest feet he had ever seen. By no -possibility could one of them have been forced into the boot which he -had just flung down. - -Knowing nothing of the footprints Seymour had found near the scene of -Caswell's killing, Moira O'Malley looked on at the comparison of -boots in mystified silence. Karmack seemed to have a better grasp of -the reason behind the test. - -"I'm no murderer," he muttered, glowering at his captor. - -"Wait until I get your latest partner, Kluger," said the sergeant. - -Seymour seemed on the verge of enlightening Moira when she raised a -hand of caution. "Listen," she whispered. - -They heard hoof beats hammering into camp. Some one on horseback was -coming at speed. The sergeant crossed to the tent front and peered -out between the flaps. - -"Guess we won't have to go for Kluger, after all," he said, still -peering. - -Karmack muttered an oath, his petulance directed against old lady -Luck, who gets the credit for the best and blame for the worst that -happens to illogical humans. - -"Bonnie--Bonnemort! Where are you?" The deep-throated call came -from outside. - -"Where d'you suppose?" Seymour called back in a voice that he hoped -would pass for the pretended half-breed's. - -He turned to Moira, quietly directing her to crouch behind the -treasure chest and keep her gun on the ex-factor. - -"No more fighting with fists,--please!" she begged. - -"There's no woman in this man's case," he whispered, and motioned for -silence. - -Phil Brewster walked into the tent a moment later, and Seymour -realized it was the first time he had seen him on foot. The affable -freighter stepped with a limp. - -"What you sitting there for, you big boob?" Brewster put his question -to Karmack before glancing about the tent. - -"Thinking it over, perhaps." From a point back of Brewster, where he -had stood unnoticed, Seymour broke in before the pretender could -speak for himself. - -Brewster whirled, and with the move his gun appeared from handy -concealment. But the sergeant had expected some such desperate act -and was ready. His left hand caught the freighter's right at the -wrist and swung it upward. Brewster's bullet let a look of blue sky -through the canvas roof, while the muzzle of the Mountie's revolver -prodded the ribs of his suspect. The freighter saw fit to obey a -command to drop his weapon. - -"Sorry I haven't more bracelets with me," Seymour said. "Moira, if -you'll look under the clothes rack, where I found that boot just now, -you'll find a length of rope." - -"What's all this about, you high-binder?" Brewster demanded. - -"You remind me--I neglected to introduce myself when we met yesterday -and the day before. Karmack, there, might tell you that I call -myself Seymour, sergeant of the Royal Mounted." - -"But he's dead!" blurted out Brewster. - -"Not that he knows of," Seymour assured him quietly; "but you have a -very good reason for thinking so. Now, if you'll oblige by putting -your hands behind you--" - -When Brewster obeyed, perforce, the sergeant directed Moira to tie -the wrists. After he had inspected the knots and recovered the -fallen gun, he suggested that Brewster sit down on one of the cots -until they were ready to start back to Gold. The freighter, in doing -so, swung his right leg over his left knee. From his seat on the -opposite cot, Seymour saw on the exposed sole one of the peculiar -leather-saving metal plates in which he was so interested--the one -that had made its impression in the soil near the scene of the -murder. Reaching under the table, he retrieved the spare boot he had -thrown there and saw that they matched in every particular. - -"Just to make everything according to Hoyle, Brewster," the sergeant -said, "I now place you under arrest for the murder of Bart Caswell, -alias Sergeant Seymour." - -Brewster seemed stunned at the charge. His eyes, as if by instinct, -avoided Seymour's steady gaze. He looked at the scowling Karmack, -starting slightly at his first glimpse of the nickeled wristlets the -man wore. - -"Who's the boob now?" snarled Karmack. "Leaving tracks with your bad -foot for any fool Mountie to read!" - -"Shut up, you fool!" A look of fright crossed Brewster's handsome -face. For a second he seemed about to spring upon Karmack. Then, as -quickly as it had come, the spasm passed. He turned his eyes on -Seymour. "If you ever press this ridiculous charge," he said, "I'll -prove it false to the jury. I've done some freighting for the B. & -K. outfit, nothing more. Rode in here to-day to collect a bill. -Down at the cañon, Kluger passed me on to Bonnemort. I ran into -you--and trouble." - -After a moment's pause, Brewster continued: "Say, if you really are -Sergeant Seymour, who was the uniformed bird that came to Gold as -Bart Caswell?" - -"Bart Caswell's widow is ready to tell the court why he killed Ben -Tabor in robbing the B.C.X. stage of my uniform and papers," the -sergeant answered somewhat cryptically. - -"Poor Ruth," murmured Moira. "She really believed." - -"Well, I'll be----" Brewster began. - -"Told you Caswell was a crook," whined Karmack. "No yellow legs -would have let himself be caught the way I got him that day up here -on the creek." - -Seymour waited for Moira to speak. When she came toward him her face -wore the bravest smile he had ever seen on a woman. - -"What next, pardner?" she asked whimsically. - -"The first step," he told her, "is to rig up some sort of an M.P. -seal for that treasure chest I broke open." - -Without ceremony, the sergeant lifted Karmack to his feet and ushered -him to the left-hand cot. From that seat, the disfigured -ne'er-do-well might glare more conveniently at Brewster. - -"But that chest holds only frog-gold," Moira reminded Seymour. "The -Siwashes have all the real gold, and it belongs to them." - -"You don't really think that a close and crooked corporation like -Brewster, Kluger and Karmack would supply food, dynamite and expert -management for a bunch of Indians only to take their pay in pretty -specimens, do you, Moira?" - -She studied the proposition from the new angle which his question -presented. "It doesn't seem reasonable, but----" - -"It isn't reasonable," he interposed, raising the lid of the chest -that she might feast her eyes upon its heaping gray store. "This -frog-gold, as your father calls it, happens to be platinum--worth six -times its weight in gold." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -BRIGHT WITH PROMISE - -With his astonishing declaration of the real richer-than-gold wealth -of the Glacier Greek placers, Seymour turned to Brewster for -confirmation. "What is the current quotation on platinum?" he asked. - -But the freighter no longer was affable. "I'm no bureau of -information," he growled. - -"Try me," offered Karmack with a return of his old-time effrontery. -"Dear eyes, at the present time that platinum is worth a hundred and -fifteen simoleons an ounce--was up to a hundred and seventy during -the war!" - -"And the purest gold brings a trifle over twenty dollars," the -sergeant reminded the girl. "You see I was nearly exact." - -With a quick glance, as if the presence of such a store of wealth -frightened her, Moira lowered the lid. - -"Then the Glacier Mission Indians are----" she hesitated. - -"Rich--for them," he supplied. "What's more the O'Malley claims -between the cañon mouth and the Cheena are heavier with frog-gold -than those up the creek, or I don't know my mineralogy. You and your -father and Miss Ruth will be near-millionaires." - -Seymour would not have cared to explain the worried look that came -unbidden into his eyes, had he been taxed with it. Complications -foreseen were responsible. - -He improvised a flimsy fastening to replace the lock he had broken, -and pinned over the chest crack a sheet of paper on which he had -written "Officially Sealed, R. Seymour, Sergeant, R.C.M.P." Then he -made a young Siwash, picked by Moira, vain for life by swearing him -in as a special constable and placing him on guard at the tent door. -His instructions were to permit no one to pass until Seymour -returned, and he was entrusted with Brewster's gun to support his -authority. - -Inspection showed that the Siwashes had gone back to work under -"king's orders." Seymour had no thought of telling them how rich -they were making themselves, until their status was fixed by the -proper court. Meantime they'd be best off, continuing their labor, -for "all the gold" allotted them by the spoilers. - -With Brewster tied to his saddle and Karmack, still handcuffed, on -foot, the prisoners were started down creek under the guns of the -sergeant and his volunteer aid. Beneath the non-com.'s arm was a -worn boot for a lame right foot, his prize "Exhibit B." First honors -in the evidence line were in the commissioner's vault back in -Ottawa--"Exhibit A," a pair of fox pelts, one silver and one black. -Of the three murders he had solved, that of poor Oliver O'Malley -would always have first place in his personal record book. - -On the down creek tramp, Seymour told Moira what he knew of the -wonder story of platinum. Her missionary father had not been the -first to call this occasional associate of gold a nuisance and to -throw it away, not knowing what else to do with it. In less than a -generation the gray metal had emerged from the lesser metals, crept -past silver and then raced beyond gold into the limelight of -popularity. Whatever the ultimate fate of the ore it was certain to -remain a treasure-metal until long after Glacier Creek had been mined -out. - -For his own satisfaction, as well as hers, he outlined the plot -against the Indians as he now saw it. Phil Brewster, he believed, -had recognized platinum in the frog-gold which the Siwashes were -discarding. The freighter had sent back to Montreal for Kluger to -direct the harvest. Knowing at least something of Karmack's plight, -Kluger had brought the Armistice murderer with him as an assistant -and had posed him as a half-breed as part of the disguise. Whether -or not the latter knew that the father of the youth he had caused to -be slain in the Arctic lived in the immediate vicinity of the -platinum bed was a question. At any rate, the criminal probably -figured that he would be safer in a sealed British Columbia cañon -than in the cafés of the city that lately has become the gayest in -North America. Brewster undoubtedly had been riding guard outside -under cover of his established freighting business. - -The trio had corralled the Indians on their own claims in the easiest -possible way--by giving them all the gold that was sluiced, while -they took the six-times richer platinum. Their discovery that Bart -Caswell had recognized their precious metal had sealed his death -warrant. Its execution had been prompt, as she knew. He could only -hope that the official executions which seemed called for would not -be too long delayed. - -After some persuasion and the reminder that Moira was a persistent -young person, he sketched the steps by which he had walked through -the local mystery. His conviction that Bart had robbed the stage, -based on recognition of the uniform, had given him a "head start" and -had proved a lever with the widow Caswell. She had started him on a -"richer than gold" search. Moira herself, with her tip about the -frog-gold, had spurred him, for he suspected it to be platinum. The -squaw tale that the Siwashes were getting all the gold had helped, -and the shaking of a platinum nugget from the ore sack had completed -his enlightenment. As for the black-hearted Karmack, whose hair had -turned red--well, that was an excellent piece of dyer's art, but one -Scarlet Seymour would be long forgiving himself for not having -recognized it as such that memorable night at the Venetian Gardens. - -"Do you suppose my being there had anything to do----" began Moira. - -"Why, most wonderful girl alive, I particularly wanted to get him to -close the books with----" He interrupted himself at thought of the -platinum wealth at the mouth of the creek. - -They passed the graveyard diggings without disturbing the Siwashes at -their labors. At the tent camp in the cañon, Seymour surprised -Kluger, sacking platinum for the get-away which Brewster had warned -him was imminent. The little man was so preoccupied with his -delightful task, and in such fancied security, that the sergeant had -a gun to his back before he looked up from the booty. Two additional -saddle horses were annexed here, which Moira and Seymour mounted. - -At the "gate" they surprised one of the two hired guards in -controversy with O'Malley. Anxious about his daughter, the old -missionary was trying to talk his way into the gulch. At seeing his -employers under arrest, the guard resigned on the spot and could not -hand over his rifle soon enough. On the ride into Gold, the other -guard was encountered, headed back to his "work." Single-handed, -Shan O'Malley made the last necessary capture, adding another -prospective witness for the king's case. - -Not until Seymour had gone through the formality of borrowing the -town jail from Deputy Hardley, and the prisoners were safely immured, -with the ice-box door really locked, did Moira seem to remember her -costume. A signal sent from her seat in the saddle brought the -sergeant out of the curious crowd about the log calaboose. - -"I can't stay to celebrate your victory, Russell," she informed him. -"I've got to get back to my tribe--my scrubbing brush. I've just -realized that I must look a--a scandal in this rig. Even in Gold, -B.C., I have a social standing to maintain." - -Her threatened departure surprised him, left him suddenly confused. -"Your standing as a heroine in Gold couldn't be disturbed by a blast -of dynamite after what you've done to-day," he assured her. "And -have you forgotten--don't you realize what it means that at last I've -got my man? I've got to go back to Glacier to-night, you know. I'd -thought of dinner and an official escort home." - -For a moment she considered, then the eyes which he once had likened -as being "smudged in by a sooty finger," flashed him all the love in -their world. - -"Sorry I can't wait in this rig, Sergeant Scarlet," she teased, "but -there's nothing to hinder your coming to the mission on Glacier as -soon as you're ready." She started her horse. "But be sure," she -called back to him, "be sure not to forget to bring my father with -you. He's the only parson in these diggings." - -She had gone before he could thank her; but all the platinum on -Glacier couldn't buy from him the memory of those recent crowded -hours. - -The crowd remembered that he was a member of the Force, even if he -had momentarily forgotten that fact. They clamored about him for -details of the crime clean-up, few of which they would hear from him. -There was Deputy Hardley to be put straight about the B.C.X. holdup; -and Mrs. Caswell to thank for her "richer than gold" help, and -special constables to be selected and sworn for service at the -borrowed jail and on the creek. Indeed there was much for -Staff-Sergeant Seymour to do in his new domain, but when at last he -was free he saw to it that the Rev. Shan O'Malley brushed stirrups -with him all the way to Glacier. - - - -THE END. - - - - - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Never Fire First, by James French Dorrance - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEVER FIRE FIRST *** - -***** This file should be named 63877-8.txt or 63877-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/7/63877/ - -Produced by Al Haines -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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