CHAPTER XIII

A SCOUT RETURNS

Contrary to Dick’s expectations, Sandy did not resent being left behind. True, the young Scotchman had experienced a certain amount of regret to learn that he was to be separated from his two chums and miss the excitement and adventure of the western trip, yet this feeling passed quickly. In spite of his occasional rebellious mood and seeming stubbornness, Sandy was really a philosopher. His grumbling and complaining seldom were taken seriously. Under the surface, somewhere deep down within him, were the flowing springs of an unconquerable good nature.

He knew that it was necessary for someone to stay with Sergeant Richardson and the prisoners, and he accepted Rand’s orders unhesitatingly. Even if he couldn’t go along with Dick and Toma, he could at least prove his worth in other ways. He’d see this thing through to the finish.

Shortly after the two boys had left, Sergeant Richardson completely recovered consciousness. It was not long before he sat up and began to ask questions. He smiled a little wanly when he had been informed of Corporal Rand’s successful strategy.

“I’m glad they got La Qua. Tomorrow, Sandy, we’ll take these prisoners back to Wandley’s post. Perhaps we can find a place where we can lock them up. I’ll put a man in charge.”

“Good idea,” approved Sandy. “It isn’t far from here. At the same time, we can find out how Pearly is getting on.”

Later, the policeman walked over, a little unsteadily, to the corner where the prisoners lay.

“Well, La Qua, I’m glad to see you here. Have you anything to say for yourself?”

Apparently, he had. He immediately broke forth in a storm of invective that scorched the already overheated room. Sandy’s ears fairly tingled as he listened to the horrible oaths and scathing denouncement.

“Mebbe yuh got me now,” he snarled, concluding his tirade, “but yuh ain’t finished with me yet. The knock on the head yuh got a while back won’t be nothin’ compared to what’s coming to yuh. Yuh ain’t got no call to meddle in honest men’s business.”

“Honest men!” gasped the sergeant, plainly taken aback. “Honest men,” he repeated, staring in a sort of grim fascination at the row of evil faces in front of him. “Why, my good fellow, I wish you’d explain one or two things to my satisfaction. I wish—”

Sandy’s roar of laughter interrupted him. La Qua seized the opportunity to declare venomously:

“I don’t need to explain nothin’. If one or two o’ your men got hurt, it’s all on account o’ their meddling.”

The policeman saw the folly of further argument. He turned back to where Sandy stood.

“Let’s try to find something to eat,” he proposed. “A hot cup of tea would go well right now. I’m famished. After we’ve eaten, you can roll in, Sandy, while I stand guard.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, sergeant, but I don’t think I’ll accept. You need the rest more than I do.”

Richardson smiled and patted Sandy’s thatch of yellow hair.

“All right, if you insist. I’ll agree to take advantage of your offer, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Sandy asked wonderingly.

“That you wake me up in three hours’ time. A sort of compromise, you see. In that way we’ll both get a little rest.”

“I’ll accept your terms,” said Sandy with great solemnity.

A search in the cupboard behind the fireplace was rewarded by the discovery of a small container, full of tea, sugar in an earthen jar, and a stack of doubtful-looking bannock, piled high on a granite plate. A kettle was soon simmering over the fire.

When they had eaten, Richardson arose and, walking over, inquired if any of the prisoners wanted refreshments. La Qua spurned the offer with a hair-burning oath. The others were more tractable. Yes, they were hungry. They would consider it a great favor if monsieur would do as he said.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the policeman unbound the arms of the three men, while Sandy brought tea and bannock. Later, he even permitted one of the half-breeds to smoke. Then he bound them up again.

Long before the coming of daylight, the party started back on the trail to Wandley’s. Arriving there without incident, four hours later, Sandy and Richardson were considerably startled when the door opened and a stalky, well-knit figure emerged.

“As I live,” shouted Sandy, “Malemute Slade! Where did you come from?”

They shook hands with the police scout, beaming over the good fortune that had brought them together.

“Yeh, Sandy, I kind o’ thought it was about time to come mushin’ in. Been up in the foothills fer nearly three weeks. But by the looks o’ it, I’m two days late. Wished I’d been here when that Nitchie took his shot at Pearly.”

He paused as his gaze wandered in the direction of the prisoners.

“Sufferin’ pole-cats! What’s all this scum?”

Malemute Slade’s critical eye ran over them, seeming to measure each in turn.

“Fine specimens, ain’t they?” he rumbled on, half to himself. “Looks like the scourings from Hades. There ain’t a single one o’ them I’d trust any further than I could see. But where did yuh get ’em all, sergeant? An’ why did yuh leave the hungriest wolf of ’em all scot free?”

“You mean Murky?”

“Yeh.”

Richardson smiled.

“As a matter of fact, Slade, we’re not quite ready for him yet. We haven’t a thing thus far we can use as evidence against him. We wouldn’t have taken these men here either, if there had been any way of getting around it. We won’t press charges against any of them until we have secured the fur which was cached over there at Settlement Mountain.”

“So yuh found the cache?”

“Yes,” answered Richardson. “I’ll tell you about it presently. But first, give me a hand to look after these men.”

As he spoke, the policeman jerked his head in the direction of the door. A steady stream of the curious were pouring out. An inquisitive throng soon gathered around them. On every side rose guttural exclamations, accompanied by much chattering and shaking of heads. Attracted by the commotion, Wandley himself appeared presently.

“Why, hello, sergeant!” he hailed the policeman. “What’s up? Bring your men inside.”

Richardson drew the free trader aside and a whispered consultation ensued. At its conclusion, Wandley led the way to a small building, which had previously been used for storing fur, but which, during recent years, had become too small to accommodate the trader’s growing business.

“You can fit up this place to suit yourself. It’s strongly built and will probably serve your purpose. I have a padlock inside for the door.”

It was not long before La Qua and his followers were locked up and a guard, recruited from the crowd, stationed just outside. Then Sandy accompanied Malemute Slade and Richardson to Pearly’s room. The wounded man smiled cheerfully as they entered.

Sandy was overjoyed at the remarkable change in Pearly’s appearance. Although still running a high fever, he had taken a turn for the better. The greatest danger had passed. Sergeant Richardson stood near the bed but did not speak. A deep hush had fallen over the room. Suddenly the grizzled veteran of a hundred trails put out one hand and permitted it to rest for one brief moment upon the wounded man’s head. That was all. But many of the harsh lines in the face of the police sergeant had softened. Silently he turned away, motioning to Slade and Sandy to follow him. They repaired to the room, which had been placed at their disposal. Closing the door after him, Richardson lost no time in getting down to business.

“You asked me, Slade, where we got our prisoners. Over at Murky’s cache. We had a little trouble there. If you’ll listen closely I’ll give you full particulars of the affair.”

When the policeman had finished his narrative, Sandy noted the impression it had made upon the scout. Malemute’s eyes were shining with excitement.

“So that’s where Murky had his cache. Yuh can believe it or not, sergeant, but I passed that place not more than two days ago. I didn’t see nothin’ that looked suspicious. Mebbe it was a good thing I didn’t stop to investigate. It might o’ spoiled ever’thing. So Rand is followin’ the pack-train through Blind Man’s Pass? Can yuh beat that? Here I’ve been searchin’ fer nearly a month an’ couldn’t find it.”

Sergeant Richardson drummed softly on the table. He looked up and smiled.

“Unless I’m badly mistaken, the exact location of the pass will soon be public property. Perhaps tomorrow by this time, Rand and the two boys will have entered it.”

“Wish I was with them, sergeant.”

“You can go later. Just now I have other work for you.”

“You mean the prisoners?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to take ’em back to Mackenzie barracks?”

“They’ll be safer there,” nodded the sergeant.

“You’re goin’ out after Murky then, eh?”

“No. Rand may have more to do than he’s bargained for. I think I’ll take Sandy here and set out after them. Murky will have to wait. I don’t believe he’ll attempt to escape. He’ll probably stay over at Good Faith for a few weeks longer.”

“Few weeks!” sputtered Malemute. “Why, he ain’t there right now!”

“Isn’t there!”

“No. When I come in a while ago, Wandley told me he’d seen Murky again jes’ a few hours before.”

“Great Scott! Then he didn’t go back to Fort Good Faith after all.”

“Don’t see how he could.”

“But which way did he go? Did you hear?”

“Wandley didn’t seem to know. If anyone was to ask me fer an opinion, I’d say he’s out scouting fer more fur.”

Richardson rose thoughtfully to his feet and walked over to the window. The bleak, cheerless landscape met his gaze. Sandy, who had a good view of the policeman’s face, saw the jaw set grimly.

“I may be able to pick up a trace of him somewhere during the next few days. Of course, that means that my trip through the pass must be postponed for a short time.”

He turned and smiled at Sandy.

“While I’m out making my investigations, you’d better stay right here. If you wish, upon my return, you can accompany me on the journey.”

“I’ll wait for you, sergeant. I’m anxious to go through Blind Man’s Pass and join Dick and Toma.” Then more plaintively: “You won’t change your mind, will you?”

Both Richardson and Malemute Slade laughed at the young man’s earnestness.

“No, Sandy, a promise is a promise. I’ll not go back on my word.” Richardson turned and addressed Slade. “You’d better make arrangements to take the prisoners over to barracks as quickly as possible. I’d suggest that you start tomorrow.”

“I’ll start this afternoon if you say the word, sergeant.”

“No. You need a few hours in which to rest up. Tomorrow will do almost as well.”

With a nod and a smile for both of them, the policeman turned quickly and strode out of the room.