Dan McGrew, from a point of safe concealment, watched the coming of the
sled with keen interest. He was still furious over the miscarriage in
his plans caused by this arrival. There was no longer possibility of his
holding the secret of the mine for himself. In return for the blood on
his hands, he had gained a single poke of gold-dust. His chief concern
now was the evading of any possible suspicion against himself. His
thoughts were busy with this problem of safety. At his distance, and in
the darkening light, he could not make out the identity of the man who
examined the body of Sam Ward, and afterward removed it. Since Nell did
not leave the sled, he did not guess even that one of the two was a
woman. But it did occur to him that, since the arrival of these persons
had thwarted his evil hopes, it would be fitting that they themselves
should serve his need as the scape-goats of suspicion.
Once this idea had stirred in his brain, Dangerous Dan found little
difficulty in planning the accomplishment of his designs. He remained in
hiding, without venturing even to light a fire though he was hard put to
it to resist the numbing cold. It was not till some hours after
nightfall, when he judged the two in their camp safely asleep, that
Dangerous Dan acted on the plan he had formed.
He crept with the utmost caution down the slope, and made a wide detour,
so as to come near the camp to windward of the point where he heard the
little yelps and whinings of dogs restless in their sleep. The night was
clear, and, even within the shadows of the trees about the camp, Dan
could see distinctly where the sled stood outside the limit of the
firelight. Toward this, with increased care and slowness in the
progress, Dan made his way.
He had almost reached the sled, when he stumbled over what he had deemed
merely a deeper shadow beside it, and sprawled forward. To save himself
from falling, he thrust out his right hand. The palm touched something
cold--with a coldness beyond that of the arctic air. It was the face of
the man whom he had slain, from off which his rough contact had thrust
the blanket. And Dan McGrew knew the thing for what it was.
Strong man that he was, he was sickened. For a little, he stood there
shivering, unnerved by the grisly encounter. But it was only the shock
that had unmanned him. Presently, his courage rose again. He grinned to
himself, standing there in the dark over the dead body. Here was nothing
to be afraid of, he said to himself in brutal disdain of his own
weakness. So, soon, he went on again, quite undismayed, to carry out his
purpose.
Noiselessly, Dangerous Dan fumbled over the pack on the sled for some
minutes. Once, he put a hand in his pocket, and drew forth something,
which he disposed within the wrappings of the pack. Finally, he
readjusted everything, as nearly as he could by the sense of touch, to
the condition in which he had found it. Only, there was something added
to the contents. For once in his life, Dangerous Dan had not been a
robber. Yet, never had his intent been more deadly.
His task thus accomplished, the man withdrew as silently as he had come.
Nevertheless, despite his bravado, he was at pains to tread aside, lest
he brush a second time against that blanketed form.
* * * * *
Jack and Nell were up and away early. They made good speed with the
grewsome burden on the sled. They ran easily without snow-shoes, for the
crust still held. Jack was distressed that his bride should be unable to
ride luxuriously on their honeymoon. But for this Nell cared not at all.
In her youth and perfect health, the physical activity was, in truth, a
pleasure, rather than a toil. But she was disturbed by the presence of
that grim thing which they escorted. She could not avoid yielding in
some measure to superstition. The radiant joy of her bridal was
quenched by this tragedy that had followed so close upon it, and into
association with which they had been forced by circumstance. Her mood
was oppressed with forebodings. She was all anxiety to reach Kalmak,
where they might be rid of this ill-omened clay. So, she urged Jack
often to increase the pace. And he, for his part, hardly less sensitive
to this malignant influence at such a time, consented readily enough,
hurrying on the dogs with whip and voice.... The train swung into Kalmak
in mid-afternoon--at least an hour sooner than it would have made the
distance with a lighter load.
[Illustration: SHE WAS DISTURBED BY THE PRESENCE OF THAT GRIM THING
WHICH THEY ESCORTED.]
Jack halted the dogs before the very unpretentious structure that was
inappropriately designated the Grand Hotel. At sound of the arrival,
those within hurried forth, eager for any interruption of the day's
monotony. Among the others came a tall, lank man, with a lantern-jawed
face and a drooping, melancholy mustache, whom Jack recognized as Hal
Owens, the sheriff. He himself, however, was not known to Owens, or to
any of those present, nor was Nell, as they were speedily to learn to
their sorrow. Another face in the group was vaguely familiar to both the
young husband and his bride. Jack, for the moment, could not recall
where he had seen this stalwart, handsome man, who stood with a
masterful erectness, emphasized by his frank and fearless gaze. But
Nell, in the instant of seeing the stranger, recollected him perfectly,
though she had seen him but once in a fleeting glance. She remembered
how he had appeared on her wedding-day, and how he had regarded her with
that cynical smile, which had aroused in her an inexplicable sense of
dismay, a fear of mysterious disasters, past or to come. It seemed to
her appropriate enough that now this man should be present to welcome
her and her husband as they brought in their ghastly load. Again, she
experienced a curious repugnance in meeting the steady stare that seemed
to probe into her soul with a mocking amusement. Nell wrenched her eyes
from his, and turned away with a little shudder of revulsion. Then, the
natural buoyancy of her spirits asserted itself. After all, this man,
who affected her so strangely, was nothing to them--could be nothing to
them. And they were at last free of the horrible incubus that had been
thrust upon them. The dead body was now gone out of their charge, was
become the property of the law. She smiled, a little wanly, while her
eyes moved over the roughly garbed cluster of men. She was glad--oh, so
glad!--that miserable interruption of their honeymoon was done and over.
Jack addressed the sheriff briskly, himself almost as anxious as Nell to
have done with this wretched matter.
"This is your business, Sheriff. I've brought in the body of a chap who
got killed out Forgotten Creek way, yesterday afternoon."
The sheriff nodded with what he took to be the dignity befitting his
authority.
"The coroner should set on the corpse," he said gravely, pleased at this
display of his familiarity with legal phrases. "In his absence--bein'
there hain't none--I reckon I'll do the best I kin."
He strode to the sled, and pulled aside the blanket that had concealed
the dead man's face. He turned to the men who had crowded around.
"Anybody know him?" he demanded, authoritatively.
There was a chorus of grunts in negation.
Then, as the others fell silent, Jack spoke again:
"I knew him by sight, though I never spoke to him. His name was Sam
Ward. They said he'd struck it rich--a secret mine somewhere in the
mountains."
"Know anything more about him?" The sheriff's voice was heavy with
responsibility.
Jack made an impatient gesture.
"He was in the stampede that came up to Forgotten Creek day before
yesterday. You know?"
"I know," the sheriff assented. "What else do you know?"
"I know he's dead," Jack snapped. He was heartily sick of this
business, and his temper grew strained. "If you have any doubt about
it," he added sarcastically, "why, I saw him killed."
There was a general start of surprise over this bald announcement. The
sheriff, however, preserved his official composure.
"That ought to help some," was his response. "Supposin' now, you fire
ahead, an' tell all you know about this corpse o' your'n."
"No corpse of mine!" Jack retorted gruffly, more than ever annoyed,
while Nell felt a qualm of new dread at the sheriff's ambiguous words.
But Jack curbed his impatience, and related in detail what he knew
concerning the incidents of the tragedy.
His hearers listened intently. There were features in this murder that
gave it a certain distinction. The fact that it had been witnessed from
such a distance through the field-glasses gave it a charm of novelty
that a mere murder must otherwise have lacked. The men, who had hitherto
been stealing many a sly glance toward the young woman with the dainty
face and glowing eyes, now stared at her with open admiration for the
one who had first seen the assassin's advance upon his victim, and had
guessed his deadly purpose. All those present accepted the truth of the
narrative without question. The young man's frank expression and the
simplicity of his story, strange as it was, carried conviction.
Moreover, it was well-nigh impossible to suspect this beautiful girl of
any complicity in crime. So, the account was accepted by all hearers as
truth, and it occurred to none even to question it.... To none, save
one. And that one was he who, of his own knowledge, best knew that it
was truth. Yet, he would question, and to some purpose--for his own
safety's sake.
The formalities of the occasion thus fully satisfied, the sheriff
ordered the corpse removed to a back room in the hotel, where it was
laid out on the table. Before replacing the blanket, the sheriff
withdrew the blade of the knife from the dead man's breast.
[Illustration: THE FORMALITIES FULLY SATISFIED, THE SHERIFF ORDERED THE
CORPSE REMOVED.]
"It's a clew," he explained, with obvious admiration for his own
sagacity, as he wiped the blackened blood from the blade upon the
blanket.
Dan McGrew had followed the four men who, at the sheriff's direction,
carried the body into the hotel. He was known here, as through most of
the region round about, where he was regarded as an honest gambler--for
his methods had improved in the twelve years since his discomfiture by
Fingie Whalen.
To be here at this time, Dangerous Dan McGrew had employed the resources
of both mind and body. His reasoning had convinced him that Kalmak would
be Jack's destination in the trip. He had been obliged to risk the
correctness of this conclusion in order that he might be free to start
for the village at once, after completing his night-visit to the young
man's camp. Since he must travel on foot, and slowly because of
increasing fatigue, he had need of all the time he could gain for the
journey, in order to reach the scene first. He had succeeded. Even, he
had had time for an hour's sleep, which was craved by every atom in his
body after a day and two nights of almost constant exertion.
So, now, Dan McGrew was on the spot, alert and arrogant with evil
purpose. He stepped close to the sheriff, and spoke so that the others
could not overhear. He knew the harmless vanity of the official, and
meant to play upon it for his own ends, by letting the other take credit
on himself for great shrewdness.
"You think that youngster's story is a bit fishy, I see!" Dan remarked;
and there was deep admiration in his voice.
The sheriff, who had thought nothing of the sort, immediately assumed an
air of suspicion, and nodded assent.
"Fishy--very!" he agreed.
"Of course," Dan continued deprecatingly, as if even to question this
were an impertinence on his part, "you'll search that young man's pack?"
The sheriff nodded glumly.
"It's my sworn duty to do jest that."
Dan sauntered away, well content. He went out of the hotel, and stood
unobtrusively among the other idlers, watching while Jack and Nell,
restored to the best of spirits by the completion of their unpleasant
duty, were now laughing and chatting together as they busied themselves
about the sled.
Presently appeared the sheriff. He approached the sled, and spoke with a
harshness he had not hitherto displayed.
"Young feller, I'll jest take a look through your pack."
Jack and Nell glanced up in amazement at the tone no less than at the
words.
"But what--what the devil do you mean?" Jack demanded, wrathfully.
"Never you mind what I mean, young feller," was the offended retort. The
sheriff threw back the lapel of the heavy outer coat he wore, and showed
a silver shield. "There's my authority," he sternly announced. "I'll
jest take a squint through your belongin's."
Jack and Nell protested, but their protests were in vain. The sheriff in
explanation vouchsafed only a single word, most contemptuously uttered:
"Fishy!"
In the end, the young pair stood by in mute indignation, while the
official search was prosecuted.... They had one consolation in the
presence of this outrage: The search would prove its own absurdity.
The issue came on them like a thunderbolt. From somewhere in the pack,
the sheriff's groping fingers drew forth an object, which he held up
that all might see. It was undoubtedly the bone handle of a large knife.
Without a word, the sheriff reached into a pocket of his coat, and
brought forth the blade which had been in the dead man's breast. Still
without a word, while all looked on in breathless tension, he put blade
and haft together. They fitted perfectly.
The sheriff's mouth, under the drooping mustache, twisted in a
triumphant grin. An amazed consternation held Jack and Nell silent for
the moment in the face of this damning evidence against them. The
sheriff moved forward a step, and laid his hand on Jack's shoulder.
"Young feller," he said heavily, "I arrest you in the name of the law,
for the murder of Sam Ward, deceased. And don't say anythin'," he added,
in paraphrase of the legal formula, "for what you say will be used agin
ye."