Benton of the Royal Mounted Part 28

"What verdicts did the coroner's jury bring in on those cases?" he inquired, with a forced carelessness in his tone that did not deceive Benton in the least. "I haven't seen th' paper."

Ellis, with his foot on a chair, paused and turned, brush in hand.

"Eh?" he returned irritably.

Churchill, avoiding the other's eyes and fumbling with his pipe, repeated the question.

Benton reached for a memorandum form that lay on the desk, and tossed it over unceremoniously.

"There's a copy of the wording of the findings," he said shortly.

"Condensed, it practically amounts to 'death, caused by an act of justifiable homicide,' in the one case, 'manslaughter,' in the other...."

He finished his cleaning operations and proceeded to pull on his serge.

Churchill fidgeted uneasily.

"Was there-what kind of evidence was adduced?" he began. "Did-?"

"Here!" interrupted Ellis harshly. "What the devil are _you_ beating 'round the bush for? Why don't you come across with it plain? What d'you want to know?"

The local Sergeant flushed angrily, stung to the quick by the rough incivility of his companion's speech and the cold, contemptuous stare that accompanied it, but sheer bodily fear of the ex-pugilist silenced the retort that sprang to his lips, and he sank back in the chair from which he had half arisen.

"Oh-nothing," he mumbled thickly. "I thought p'r'aps-"

"Yes," broke in Benton savagely. "I know what you _thought_, and I'll tell you this much, Mr. 'B--' Churchill.... If I hadn't given my evidence mighty darned careful, _you'd_ have been on the flypaper, properly, both feet. _Your_ name cropped up during the inquests-one of the jury-men gently inquiring 'why _you_ weren't present, as p'r'aps _you_ might have been able to throw some light on one or two obscure points in the inquiry.' But, luckily for you, none of the others took his suggestion up." He paused and, emitting a short, ugly laugh, continued: "I'm under 'open' arrest, an' I've got to go back with Inspector Purvis an' face a formal charge of manslaughter-same as in that Cash.e.l.l business. We should worry, anyway. What gets _my_ goat is you thinkin' you were smart enough to cover up your trail in a little, one-horse '_dorp_' like this. D'you figure you could pull off anything like that, with all these old geezers of women around? What? I don't think. It's a good job for you none o' _them_ happened to be called as witnesses. All those who gave evidence were men, an' most of 'em friends o' yours, at that. See here; look! I couldn't exactly say how much you _did_ know, but I can make a pretty good guess. There was a lot you couldn't _help_ but tumble to, which puts this case entirely outside the ordinary. Anyway, it doesn't look as if you'd had much regard for your own nest."

He remained silent for a s.p.a.ce then, his voice shaking ever so little:

"I've got no use for you, Churchill. I'm not stuck on you one little bit ... an' I guess that feeling is reciprocated, for I can see the mark of my fist on your blooming dial right to this very minute. Mind you, though, I'm not blaming you in any way for _all_ that's happened. That's out of the question-an' it wouldn't be logical, or fair. I'm not moralizing, either, for I reckon there's too many 'gla.s.s-with-care'

labels on both of us to start slingin' rocks at each other-but all the same ... there's _something_ about this business I can't forget ... an'

you know d-n well what that _something_ is!"

And, opening the door, he strode out heavily, and banged it behind him.

Ellis, duly tried on the formal charge that had been laid against him, was honorably acquitted of all blame, and returned to duty. Later receiving the grant for his well-earned reward-half of which he, with the utmost difficulty, prevailed upon Musgrave to accept-he obtained ten days' leave and, dragging the latter from his all-absorbing practise for that period, the two departed away up to the Kananaskis Falls on a fishing trip. The doctor insisted on paying all expenses in connection with this outing, and presented his companion with a magnificent English green-heart fly rod, which Ellis had often eyed longingly.

Both men, possessing in a great degree the same morose, taciturn characteristics, they derived a certain grim pleasure in each other's company and, loving and understanding the sport as only good fishermen can, it is needless to say that they had extraordinarily heavy catches and, in their silent, undemonstrative way, enjoyed themselves hugely.

Their time seemed all too short, however, and it was with a feeling of real regret that they finally struck camp and returned once more to the routine of their respective duties, vowing fervently to come again the following season. The Indian summer-that most beautiful and reliable period of the year in the Canadian West-gradually pa.s.sed. November saw the first fall of snow, and from then onward the weather grew steadily colder as the icy grasp of winter began to grip the West.

Gradually the stock depredations in the Sergeant's district grew more and more infrequent, until they practically ceased altogether for, by this time, men who had hitherto been inclined to step aside from the straight trail grew afraid of him. Afraid of that sneering, merciless tongue that stung them to the quick with its bitter venom-of the heavy hand that struck by night as well as day-and, of that scheming, cunning brain which, outcla.s.sing theirs in its superior knowledge of ways that are dark on the range, seemed to antic.i.p.ate and forestall every crooked move that they made.

But, what dumbfounded them more than anything else, was the strange apparition of a great, brutal _heart_ at the bottom of it all. There was Mrs. Layc.o.c.k, they reflected, who had been burnt out in that last bad prairie fire, and whose husband he had been the means of sending to the penitentiary a short time before as an incorrigible horse thief. Had not Benton gone into her stable and, single-handed, taken out and hitched up that maddened team to the democrat, getting badly kicked in doing so?

And, after driving the woman and her family safely out of the fire zone, returned and routed out every able-bodied man within its radius? and then, not sparing himself, worked them like galley slaves, trailing wet hides and flogging with gunny-sacks until they had got it under?

True, he had come around later with a subscription list in her aid, and a look on his face that seemed to work wonders with those parsimoniously inclined. But did not his own contribution on that occasion exceed by fourfold any one of _theirs_? even if the Government did not pay inordinately high salaries to members of the Force.

And Jim McCloud, too. Had not the Sergeant, at the imminent risk of his own life, pulled Jim out of that muskeg at Willow Mere one night? Jim was "full," without a doubt; otherwise an old hand like him would never have got himself into such a jack-pot; but, all the same, he well-nigh followed his horse. Had not the Sergeant packed him across his saddle to the nearest ranch-worked over him until he came around and was all right-and then afterwards, cut short Jim's surly thanks with the remark that "he had only saved him that he might have the satisfaction later of getting him where he wanted him"?

_Jim McCloud_, of all men. Jim, who had been ahead of them all in his bitter vilification of the new policeman and, avowedly, the latter's worst enemy on the range. Only the _two_ of them there at the muskeg ...

evening, at that ... not another soul within sight or hearing. All the Sergeant needed to have done-if he had liked-was to sit in his saddle and just-_watch_.

Of what earthly use were all the many opportunities to rustle that showed up so invitingly at times while such a ruthlessly clever anomaly as he was stationed in the district? A man who seemed to possess endless disguises and hiding places and never to sleep; whose disquieting presence, supremely indifferent to weather conditions or darkness, was apt to upset all their calculations as to his whereabouts in a most sudden and undesirable fashion?

No-so long as _he_ was around, it was not worth the while risking "a stretch in the 'Pen,'" even if owners _were_ a little lethargic and careless, at times, about getting their colts and calves branded. There must be "snitches" in their midst, "double-crossing" them, they argued darkly. _Must_ be-otherwise whence had he obtained the knowledge that had led to the undoing of so many? And, as this disturbing possibility continued to gain credence, the seeds of mutual distrust and apprehension were sown broadcast amongst them which, needless to say, was greatly beneficial to the rest of the law-abiding community.

If this altered state of affairs was highly satisfactory to Benton's commanding officer it was even more so to the Stock a.s.sociation, and the Sergeant was the recipient of many tributes of esteem and grat.i.tude from that sterling body for the good work that he had done.

PART II

CHAPTER XVI

"I was a stranger, and ye took me in:"

-_St. Matt_. XXV, 35

The long, bright May day had drawn to a close, and darkness was setting in, through which a few faint stars had begun to twinkle. Ah, here was a light at last; and a welcome sight it was to the tired girl, leading an equally tired, fat, old gray horse as, topping a rise in the trail, she beheld the visible signs of a habitation gleaming in the distance.

"Come on, Sam," she coaxed cheerily, with a slightly impatient tug at the reins and quickening her pace. "We'll soon be there, now, old boy, and you'll get a good long drink and a feed!"

Plodding wearily on, they stumbled over the ruts of a well-worn trail diverging at right angles from the one they were traversing, and which the girl instinctively took, guessing that it led to the dwelling whose beacon shone brighter and brighter with every nearing step.

Suddenly she pulled up short for, through a lull in the brisk night breeze-like an aeolian harp-there came to her astonished ears the unmistakable sounds of a piano. A fresh gust of wind carried it away next minute, though, and she moved forward again. Soon the shadowy outlines of a building became visible amid the surrounding gloom, and the music became distinct and real. Dropping the horse's reins, the girl stepped slowly and carefully towards the light, thrusting out her hands with experienced caution as she did so, fearful of encountering the customary strands of a barbed-wire fence. Meeting with no such obstacle, she drew nearer to the open window, absently humming a bar of "The Bridal Chorus" from "Lohengrin," which air the invisible pianist had, with masterly improvisations, just drawn to a close.

Then she halted, paralyzed for the moment with astonishment-all her own musical instincts fully aroused-as a man's deep, rich baritone voice floated forth on the night air, singing a well-remembered song, but as _she_ had never heard it sung before. And, though not of a particularly sentimental temperament, she found it impossible to listen to the beautiful words on this occasion unmoved:

If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

Entranced, she stood motionless. Whoever could this unknown vocalist with the magnificent voice be, singing "Mother o' mine, O mother o'

mine" in the wilderness? The slow, deep, ineffable pathos of its last verse thrilled and touched her strangely:

If I were d.a.m.ned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

As the song ended, she roused herself out of the dreamy reverie into which she had fallen and, moving forward again, peered through the window. But the light was between her and the singer and she could not see plainly. Retracing her steps, she approached the front entrance and knocked gently on the door. There came a crash of chords, a moment's silence, then a firm, decided step sounded inside and the door was opened. She caught only the vague impression of a man's form in the gloom, for the light was hidden from view in the back room; then a pleasant-unmistakably, a gentleman's voice-with a slightly imperious ring in it said:

"Good night, madam. Is anything the matter? Did you wish to see me?"

"I'm-I'm afraid I've lost my way," she answered. "I'm trying to get back to Mr. Trainor's ranch. I've not been in this district very long and I'm-I suppose I'm what you call 'a bit green' as yet at finding my way about on the prairie," she added merrily.

He laughed at her last words. "So," he said. "Seems a bit like it. Dave Trainor's lies about seven miles nor'east of here. You're riding, of course?"

"Oh, yes," she said plaintively. "But all the _decent_ horses are away on the spring round-up, and the only one I could get was old Sam, and he's _so_ fat and lazy and slow. It's too much like 'working your pa.s.sage' with him. That's the princ.i.p.al reason I'm out so late. I'd been to see Mrs. G.o.ddard, at the Bow View ranch, and her husband told me of a trail which he said would be shorter than the one I came by. He wanted to ride back with me, but I was full of self-confidence and thought I could make it alone all right. Consequence is-here I am, 'lost on the bald-headed,' as they say. Poor old Sam's pretty nearly played out for a drink and a feed-an'-an' so am I," she continued frankly. "I've walked an awful long way to ease him, for I'm not exactly what you'd call a feather-weight."

Her humor was irresistible and infectious. "All right," he said gaily.