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.