"Not at all," said Deering. "Your part's to go to Green River depot
afterwards and watch out. I expect you're a good bushman, but this is a
job for a first-class mountaineer. Besides, you cut your foot!"
Jardine gave him a keen glance, but Deering resumed. "You see, I must
hit up the pace and can't boost you along. Can I hire a young man, a
prospector if possible, at Green River?"
The other's arguments did not move him and by and by Jardine resigned
himself to stay behind.
"I'm thinking my nephew, Peter, is the man ye want. Whiles he goes to
the depot for his groceries and mail. The storekeeper will ken if he's
aboot. Ye can tell Peter I sent ye to him."
After a few minutes Deering went off, but he went slowly and did not
keep the road to the station. Joining the line two or three miles down
the valley, he found a track-grader's tool hut and went in and smoked.
The hut was cold, but Deering's fur coat was thick and good. When dusk
began to fall he walked along the track and stopped three or four
hundred yards from the station.
By and by a light twinkled like a star in the gloom of the woods. A
steady throb rolled up the valley, and presently Deering distinguished a
locomotive's measured snorts and the rumble of wheels. The star was now
a dazzling moon, and its reflections picked out, far in advance,
glittering rails and frost-spangled trees. When the locomotive was level
with Deering he began to run up the line, and soon after the train
stopped he got behind the last car.
He knew the company's rules, but he knew something about train-gangs,
and he had ready a few dollar bills. Although the station agent did not
see him get on board, when the train rolled up the track he occupied a
box in front of the calaboose stove. The men gave him supper, and when
he had drained a can of strong coffee he pulled out some cards and
showed how an expert puzzled his antagonists.
Cold draughts swept the rocking calaboose, the stove roared, and one
smelt locomotive smoke. Labored snorts echoed in the rocks, couplings
rang, and when the train sped across a bridge the roll of wheels drowned
Deering's voice. Deering smiled and waited for the noise to stop. He had
undertaken a daunting job and was bothered about Jimmy, but in the
meantime he owed something to his hosts and he played up. Although
Deering had some drawbacks, his rule was to play up.
A number of the men had long studied cards and could bluff on a poor
hand. Three or four won regularly some part of their companions' wages,
but they knew a master's touch and for a time Deering held the group.
Then he lighted his pipe and began to talk about something else. He
found out that the train ran between a gravel pit and Green River. The
men were filling up a trestle and cutting out an awkward curve.
"Have they got a hotel at the settlement?" Deering inquired.
"They've no use for a hotel at Green River. Sometimes a rancher comes in
for his mail and a survey party jumps off. I guess that's all. You can
stop at the post office. The man who keeps it runs a small store."
"Nothing much doing yet," Deering remarked. "Do the mounted policemen
come to the settlement?"
A big shovel-man laughed. "They're getting busy around Green River. Two
lots came in not long since and a trooper's there now, but he won't
bother you. Looks as if he was sent to watch out for somebody who wanted
to _get on_ the train."
"Then, you reckon they're after somebody in the rocks?" said Deering
carelessly.
"That's so," another agreed. "I wouldn't bet much on the fellow's
chance! When we ran up with the last load, a police outfit was starting
for the range. Three or four troopers and a pack-horse. They'd loaded up
some truck."
"Oh, well," said Deering. "The Royal North-West are smart boys, but I've
known them beat. However, I've been for some time on the road and think
I'll go to bed. Can somebody give me a bunk?"
They gave him a bunk, and for an hour or two he slept; he knew it might
be long before he slept warm again. When he awoke the locomotive bell
was tolling and the roll of wheels was getting slack. The calaboose was
very cold, and Deering, jumping from his bunk, went to the open door.
In front a fire burned by a water tank and the beam from the headlamp
flickered across a small clearing and touched a wooden house. Farther
off, a big blast-lamp threw up a pillar of flame. The light tossed and
for a few moments all was shadowy. Then the strong illumination leaped
up again, and Deering saw a man who carried a short rifle walk along the
line. He knew the Royal North-West uniform.
Deering picked up his fur coat and hesitated. In the mountains one must
wear proper clothes and the coat was good, but unless he could cheat the
trooper he might not reach the mountains. He touched the man who had
given him the bunk.
"I'll trade my coat and cap for yours."
The fellow's skin coat and cap were old, and he looked at Deering with
surprise.
"Why do you want to trade? A track-grader doesn't buy Revillon furs."
Deering indicated the trooper. "The policeman might calculate something
like that, but I expect he knows you belong to the gang. You are going
to dump some rails and for half an hour I want a job."
"Now I get you!" said the other.
He pulled off his shabby coat, and when the train stopped and Deering
jumped down nothing distinguished him from the construction gang.
Climbing on to a flat car, he joined the men who threw down the rails,
and presently saw the trooper stop the fellow who wore his coat and cap.
He did not know how the railroad man accounted for his wearing good
furs, but he was obviously a track-grader and after a few moments the
trooper let him go. Then the train rolled up the line and Deering stayed
with the men who moved the rails.
By and by the trooper walked past the gang, glanced at the men
carelessly, and, turning back, vanished in the gloom. Deering thought
him satisfied nobody but the track-graders was about, and soon
afterwards he started for the house. So far, he had trusted his luck,
but he wanted help and must get food. Moreover, he must not excite the
storekeeper's curiosity.
A clump of pines cut the illumination up the track. Sometimes when the
blast-lamp's flame leaped up, bright reflections touched the house, but
for the most part, the ground in front was dark. When Deering was near
the door, a man came out and stopped for a few moments. Deering thought
him a rancher and when he went down the steps met him at the bottom.
"Can I buy some flour and groceries?" he asked.
"You might," said the other and looked at Deering as if he thought the
inquiry strange. "Why do you want groceries? Where are you going?"
Deering saw something must be risked and when a risk must be run he did
not hesitate.
"If I can find the trail, I'm going up the valley. Peter Jardine has a
ranch at the lake, I think?"
"That's so," said the other. "I'm Peter Jardine!"
Deering laughed. His luck had not turned and when the reflections from
the blast-lamp touched the rancher's face he thought he had got the
proper man.
"Then, as soon as you can get me some groceries, I'll start for the
rocks. Your uncle sent me along and stated you would help. You see, I'm
Jimmy Leyland's partner and Miss Margaret's friend."
"Ah," said Peter, "you're Deering? Well, the police are after Jimmy. For
some days two troopers hunted for his tracks and then a sergeant and
another came in on the train and started off as if they knew where he
was. In the meantime, a sports outfit hit the trail, but I didn't meet
up with them. I made the station in the afternoon and didn't know what I
ought to do. In fact, when you came along, I was wondering if I'd pull
out for the ranch."
"You're coming with me. I don't want to boast, but I'm a mountain
clubman and on the rocks I reckon I can beat the police."
"But Jimmy's friends got off in front of the troopers."
"There's the trouble; they're not all his friends," Deering rejoined.
"On the whole, I'd sooner the police got him than he crossed the range
with the other lot. But we'll talk about this again. When can you
start?"
"I can start as soon as my horse is loaded up, but we have got to bluff
the policeman. He mustn't see us take the mountain trail. Well, I've
pork and flour and groceries. Have you got all you want?"
"I want a Hudson's Bay blanket and a pack-rope," said Deering and gave
Peter a roll of bills. "Then you had better buy a frying-pan and
grub-hoe."
"Very well. Go ahead up the trail across the clearing and wait for me by
the creek," said Peter and returned to the store.
After a time he rejoined Deering and tied his loaded horse to a branch.
"The storekeeper knows I hit the Green Lake trail, and we don't want the
cayuse. When we have sorted out the truck we need, he'll make the ranch
all right. Light the lantern and we'll fix our packs."
Deering lighted the lantern and after a few minutes strapped a bag of
food on his back. He pushed his folded blanket through the straps, gave
Peter the rope, and picked up the grub-hoe, a Canadian digging tool very
like a mountaineer's ice-ax. Then they put out the light, let the horse
go, and went back quietly to the railroad. Nobody was about, and
stealing across the line, they plunged into the gloom.
"My luck's good," said Deering. "When I think about all we're up
against, I sure want it good."