THE OUTLAW
The bitter weather following an autumn of unusual mildness had set in with the New Year and had continued without a break for fifteen days.A heavy fall of snow with a blizzard blowing sixty miles an hour had made the trails almost impassable, indeed quite so to any but to those bent on desperate business or to Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police.To these gallant riders all trails stood open at all seasons of the year, no matter what snow might fall or blizzard blow, so long as duty called them forth.
The trail from the fort to the Big Horn Ranch, however, was so wind-swept that the snow was blown away, which made the going fairly easy, and the Superintendent, Inspector Dickson and Jerry trotted along freely enough in the face of a keen southwester that cut to the bone.It was surely some desperate business indeed that sent them out into the face of that cutting wind which made even these hardy riders, burned hard and dry by scorching suns and biting blizzards, wince and shelter their faces with their gauntleted hands.
"Deuce of a wind, this!" said the Superintendent.
"It is the raw southwester that gets to the bone," replied Inspector Dickson."This will blow up a chinook before night.""I wonder if he has got into shelter," said the Superintendent.
"This has been an unusually hard fortnight, and I am afraid he went rather light.""Oh, he's sure to be all right," replied the Inspector quickly.
"He was riding, but he took his snowshoes with him for timber work.
He's hardly the man to get caught and he won't quit easily.""No, he won't quit, but there are times when human endurance fails.
Not that I fear anything like that for Cameron," added the Superintendent hastily.
"Oh, he's not the man to fall down," replied the Inspector."He goes the limit, but he keeps his head.He's no reckless fool.""Well, you ought to know him," said the Superintendent."You have been through some things together, but this last week has been about the worst that I have known.This fortnight will be remembered in the annals of this country.And it came so unexpectedly.What do you think about it, Jerry?" continued the Superintendent, turning to the half-breed.
"He good man--cold ver' bad--ver' long.S'pose catch heem on plains--ver' bad."The Inspector touched his horse to a canter.The vision that floated before his mind's eye while the half-breed was speaking he hated to contemplate.
"He's all right.He has come through too many tight places to fail here," said the Inspector in a tone almost of defiance, and refused to talk further upon the subject.But he kept urging the pace till they drew up at the stables of the Big Horn Ranch.
The Inspector's first glance upon opening the stable door swept the stall where Ginger was wont to conduct his melancholy ruminations.
It gave him a start to see the stall empty.
"Hello, Smith!" he cried as that individual appeared with a bundle of hay from the stack in the yard outside."Boss home?""Has Mr.Cameron returned?" inquired the Superintendent in the same breath, and in spite of himself a note of anxiety had crept into his voice.The three men stood waiting, their tense attitude expressing the anxiety they would not put into words.The deliberate Smith, who had transferred his services from old Thatcher to Cameron and who had taken the ranch and all persons and things belonging to it into his immediate charge, disposed of his bundle in a stall, and then facing them said slowly:
"Guess he's all right."
"Is he home?" asked the Inspector sharply.
"Oh, he's home all right.Gone to bed, I think," answered Smith with maddening calmness.
The Inspector cursed him between his teeth and turned away from the others till his eyes should be clear again.
"We will just look in on Mrs.Cameron for a few minutes," said the Superintendent."We won't disturb him."Leaving Jerry to put up their horses, they went into the ranch-house and found the ladies in a state of suppressed excitement.
Mandy met them at the door with an eager welcome, holding out to them trembling hands.
"Oh, I am so glad you have come!" she cried."It was all I could do to hold him back from going to you even as he was.He was quite set on going and only lay down on promise that I should wake him in an hour.Sit down here by the fire.An hour, mind you," she continued, talking rapidly and under obvious excitement, "and him so blind and exhausted that--" She paused abruptly, unable to command her voice.
"He ought to sleep twelve hours straight," said the Superintendent with emphasis, "and twenty-four would be better, with suitable breaks for refreshment," he added in a lighter tone, glancing at Mandy's face.
"Yes, indeed," she replied, "for he has had little enough to eat the last three days.And that reminds me--" she hurried to the pantry and returned with the teapot--"you must be cold, Superintendent.Ah, this terrible cold! A hot cup of tea will be just the thing.It will take only five minutes--and it is better than punch, though perhaps you men do not think so." She laughed somewhat wildly.
"Why, Mrs.Cameron," said the Superintendent in a shocked, bantering voice, "how can you imagine we should be guilty of such heresy--in this prohibition country, too?""Oh, I know you men," replied Mandy."We keep some Scotch in the house--beside the laudanum.Some people can't take tea, you know,"she added with an uncertain smile, struggling to regain control of herself."But all the same, I am a nurse, and I know that after exposure tea is better.""Ah, well," replied the Superintendent, "I bow to your experience,"making a brave attempt to meet her mood and declining to note her unusual excitement.
In the specified five minutes the tea was ready.
"I could quite accept your tea-drinking theory, Mrs.Cameron," said Inspector Dickson, "if--if, mark you--I should always get such tea as this.But I don't believe Jerry here would agree."Jerry, who had just entered, stood waiting explanation.
