Read Philip Steele of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police Page 15


  Chapter XV. Philip's Last Assignment

  Philip, instead of following the doctor, laid a detaining hand upon hisarm.

  "Wait!" he said.

  Something in the seriousness of his manner drew a quick look ofapprehension over the other's face.

  "I want to talk with you," continued Philip. "Let us walk a little waydown the trail."

  The doctor eyed him suspiciously as they turned away from the cabin.

  "See here, Phil Steele," he said, and there was a hard ring in hisvoice, "I've had all sorts of confidence in you, and I've told you more,perhaps, than I ought. I don't suppose you have a suspicion that youought to break it?"

  "No, it isn't that," replied Philip, laughing a little uneasily. "I'mglad you got away with Falkner, and so far as I am concerned no onewill ever know what has happened. It's I who want to place a littleconfidence in you now. I am positively at my wits' end, and all over asituation which seems to place you and me in a class by ourselves--sortof brothers in trouble, you know," and he told McGill, briefly, ofIsobel, and his search for her.

  "I lost them between Lac Bain and Fort Churchill," he finished. "The twosledges separated, one continuing to Churchill, and the other turninginto the South. I followed the Churchill sledge--and was wrong. When Icame back the snow had covered the other trail."

  The little professor stopped suddenly, and squared himself directly inPhilip's path.

  "You don't say!" he gasped. There was a look of amazement on his face.

  "What a wonderfully little world this is, Phil," he added, smiling in acurious way. "What a wonderfully, wonderfully little world it is! It'sonly a playground, after all, and the funny part of it is that it is noteven large enough to play a game of hide-and-seek in, successfully. I'veproved that beyond question. And here--you--"

  "What?" demanded Philip, puzzled by the other's attitude.

  "Well, you see, I went first to Nelson House," said McGill, "and fromthere up to the Hudson's Bay Company's post in the Cochrane River,hunting for Falkner and this girl--a man and a woman. And at theCochrane Post a Frenchman told me that there was a strange man and womanup at Lac Bain, and I set off for there. That must have been just aboutthe time you were starting for Churchill, for on the third day up I meta sledge that turned me off the Lac Bain trail to take up the nearertrail to Chippewayan. With this sledge were the two who had been at LacBain, Colonel Becker and his daughter."

  For a moment Philip could not speak. He caught the other's handexcitedly.

  "You--you found where they were going?" he asked, when McGill did notcontinue.

  "Yes. We ate dinner together, and the colonel said they were bound forNelson House, and that they would probably go from there to Winnipeg. Ididn't ask which way they would go."

  "From Nelson House it would be by the Saskatchewan and Le Pas trail,"cried Philip. He was looking straight over the little doctor's head. "Ifit wasn't for this damnable DeBar--whom I ought to go after again--"

  "Drop DeBar," interrupted McGill quietly. "He's got too big a start ofyou anyway--so what's the use? Drop 'im. I dropped a whole lot of thingswhen I came up here."

  "But the law--"

  "Damn the law!" exploded the doctor with unexpected vehemence."Sometimes I think the world would be just as happy without it."

  Their eyes met, sharp and understanding.

  "You're a professor in a college," chuckled Philip, his voice tremblingagain with hope and eagerness. "You ought to know more than I do. Whatwould you do if you were in my place?"

  "I'd hustle for a pair of wings and fly," replied the little professorpromptly. "Good Lord, Phil--if it was my wife--and I hadn't got heryet--I wouldn't let up until I'd chased her from one end of the earth tothe other. What's a little matter of duty compared to that girl hustlingtoward Winnipeg? Next to my own little girl at home she's the prettiestthing I ever laid my eyes on."

  Philip laughed aloud.

  "Thanks, McGill. By Heaven, I'll go! When do you start?"

  "The dogs are ready, and so is Mrs. William Falkner."

  Philip turned about quickly.

  "I'll go over and say good-by to the detachment, and get my pack," hesaid over his shoulder. "I'll be back inside of half an hour."

  It was a slow trip down. The snow was beginning to soften in the warmthof the first spring suns by the time they arrived at Lac la Crosse. Twodays before they reached the post at Montreal Lake, Philip began to feelthe first discomfort of a strange sickness, of which he said nothing.But the sharp eyes of the doctor detected that something was wrong,and before they came to Montreal House he recognized the fever that hadbegun to burn in Philip's body.

  "You've set too fast a pace," he told him. "It's that--and the blow yougot when DeBar threw you against the rock. You'll have to lay up for aspell."

  In spite of his protestations, the doctor compelled him to go to bedwhen they arrived at the post. He grew rapidly worse, and for five weeksthe doctor and Falkner's wife nursed him through the fever. When theyleft for the South, late in May, he was still too weak to travel, and itwas a month later before he presented himself, pale and haggard, beforeInspector MacGregor at Prince Albert. Again disappointment was awaitinghim. There had been delay in purchasing his discharge, and he found thathe would have to wait until August. MacGregor gave him a three weeks'furlough, and his first move was to go up to Etomami and Le Pas. ColonelBecker and Isobel had been at those places six weeks before. He couldfind no trace of their having stopped at Prince Albert. He ran down toWinnipeg and spent several days in making inquiries which proved thehopelessness of any longer expecting to find Isobel in Canada. Heassured himself that by this time they were probably in London and hemade his plans accordingly. His discharge would come to him by the tenthof August, and he would immediately set off for England.

  Upon his return to Prince Albert he was detailed to a big prairiestretch of country where there was little to do but wait. On thefirst day of August he was at Hymers when the Limited plunged down theembankment into Blind Indian River. The first word of it came over thewire from Bleak House Station a little before midnight, while he and theagent were playing cribbage. Pink-cheeked little Gunn, agent, operator,and one-third of the total population of Hymers, had lifted a peg tomake a count when his hand stopped in mid-air, and with a gasping breakin his voice he sprang to his feet.

  The instrument on the little table near the window was clickingfrantically. It was Billinger, at Bleak House, crying out forheadquarters, clear lines, the right of way. The Transcontinental--engine, tender, baggage car, two coaches and a sleeper, had gone to thedevil. Those, in his excitement, where his first words. From fifty to ahundred were dead. Gunn almost swore Billinger's next words to the line.It was not an accident! Human hands had torn up three sections of rail.The same human hands had rolled a two-ton boulder in the right of way.He did not know whether the express car--or what little remained of it--had been robbed or not.

  From midnight until two o'clock the lines were hot. A wrecking trainwas on its way from the east, another from division headquarters to thewest. Ceaselessly headquarters demanded new information, and bit by bitthe terrible tragedy was told even as the men and women in it died andthe few souls from the prairies around Bleak House Station fought tosave lives. Then a new word crept in on the wires. It called for PhilipSteele at Hymers.

  It commanded him in the name of Inspector MacGregor of the Royal Mountedto reach Bleak House Station without delay. What he was to do when hearrived at the scene of the wreck was left to his own judgment. The wirefrom MacGregor aroused Philip from the stupor of horror into which hehad fallen. Gunn's girlish face was as white as a sheet.

  "I've got a jigger," he said, "and you can take it. It's forty miles toBleak House and you can make it in three hours. There won't be a trainfor six."

  Philip scribbled a few words for MacGregor and shoved them into Gunn'snervous hand. While the operator was sending them off he rolled acigarette, lighted it, and buckled on his revolver belt. Then Gunnhurried him thro
ugh the door and they lifted the velocipede on thetrack.

  "Wire Billinger I'm coming," called back Philip as Gunn started him offwith a running shove.