HIS COUNTRY'S NEED
For full five miles they rode in unbroken silence, the Superintendent going before with head pressed down on his breast and eyes fixed upon the winding trail.A heavy load lay upon him.True, his immediate sphere of duty lay along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, but as an officer of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police he shared with the other officers of that force the full responsibility of holding in steadfast loyalty the tribes of Western Indians.His knowledge of the presence in the country of the arch-plotter of the powerful and warlike Sioux from across the line entailed a new burden.Well he knew that his superior officer would simply expect him to deal with the situation in a satisfactory manner.But how, was the puzzle.A mere handful of men he had under his immediate command and these dispersed in ones and twos along the line of railway, and not one of them fit to cope with the cunning and daring Sioux.
With startling abruptness he gave utterance to his thoughts.
"We must get him--and quick.Things are moving too rapidly for any delay.The truth is," he continued, with a deepening impatience in his voice, "the truth is we are short-handed.We ought to be able to patrol every trail in this country.That old villain has fooled us to-day and he'll fool us again.And he has fooled Pinault, the smartest breed we've got.He's far too clever to be around loose among our Indians."Again they rode along in silence, the Superintendent thinking deeply.
"I know where he is!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling up his horse.
"I know where he is--this blessed minute.He's on the Sun Dance Trail and in the Sun Dance Canyon, and they're having the biggest kind of a powwow.""The Sun Dance!" echoed the Sergeant."By Jove, if only Sergeant Cameron were on this job! He knows the Sun Dance inside and out, every foot."The Superintendent swung his horse sharply round to face his Sergeant.
"Cameron!" he exclaimed thoughtfully."Cameron! I believe you're right.He's the man--the very man.But," he added with sudden remembrance, "he's left the Force.""Left the Force, sir.Yes, sir," echoed the Sergeant with a grin.
"He appeared to have a fairly good reason, too.""Reason!" snorted the Superintendent."Reason! What in--? What did he--? Why did he pull off that fool stunt at this particular time? A kid like him has no business getting married.""Mighty fine girl, sir," suggested the Sergeant warmly."Mighty lucky chap.Not many fellows could resist such a sharp attack as he had.""Fine girl! Oh, of course, of course--fine girl certainly.Fine girl.But what's that got to do with it?""Well, sir," ventured the Sergeant in a tone of surprise, "a good deal, sir, I should say.By Jove, sir, I could have--if I could have pulled it off myself--but of course she was an old flame of Cameron's and I'd no chance.""But the Service, sir!" exclaimed the Superintendent with growing indignation."The Service! Why! Cameron was right in line for promotion.He had the making of a most useful officer.And with this trouble coming on it was--it was--a highly foolish, indeed a highly reprehensible proceeding, sir." The Superintendent was rapidly mounting his pet hobby, which was the Force in which he had the honor to be an officer, the far-famed North West Mounted Police.For the Service he had sacrificed everything in life, ease, wealth, home, yes, even wife and family, to a certain extent.
With him the Force was a passion.For it he lived and breathed.
That anyone should desert it for any cause soever was to him an act unexplainable.He almost reckoned it treason.
But the question was one that touched the Sergeant as well, and deeply.Hence, though he well knew his Chief's dominant passion, he ventured an argument.
"A mighty fine girl, sir, something very special.She saw me through a mountain fever once, and I know--""Oh, the deuce take it, Sergeant! The girl is all right.I grant you all that.But is that any reason why a man should desert the Force? And now of all times? He's only a kid.So is she.She can't be twenty-five.""Twenty-five? Good Lord, no!" exclaimed the shocked Sergeant.
"She isn't a day over twenty.Why, look at her.She's--""Oh, tut-tut! If she's twenty it makes it all the worse.Why couldn't they wait till this fuss was over? Why, sir, when I was twenty--" The Superintendent paused abruptly.
"Yes, sir?" The Sergeant's manner was respectful and expectant.
"Never mind," said the Superintendent."Why rush the thing, Isay?"
"Well, sir, I did hear that there was a sudden change in Cameron's home affairs in Scotland, sir.His father died suddenly, Ibelieve.The estate was sold up and his sister, the only other child, was left all alone.Cameron felt it necessary to get a home together--though I don't suppose he needed any excuse.Never saw a man so hard hit myself.""Except yourself, Sergeant, eh?" said the Superintendent, relaxing into a grim smile.
"Oh, well, of course, sir, I'm not going to deny it.But you see,"continued the Sergeant, his pride being touched, "he had known her down East--worked on her father's farm--young gentleman--fresh from college--culture, you know, manner--style and that sort of thing--rushed her clean off her feet."
"I thought you said it was Cameron who was the one hard hit?""So it was, sir.Hadn't seen her for a couple of years or so.
Left her a country lass, uncouth, ignorant--at least so they say.""Who say?"
