PREPARING TO BEARD THE LION
I
“TO my mind,” continued the cook, “that same key has got something to do
with them big booms of poles lyin’ out there in the bay waitin’ to be
delivered to the Kam City Pulp and Paper Mills. Puttin’ one and two
together I could see the drift of things so far as the strike is
concerned if it wasn’t for all the queer side issues, includin’ that
pretty girl that was stoppin’ out on Amethyst Island. What was the idea
of her whiskin’ out of there the way she did?”
Hammond gasped. “Then—then she _has_ left?”
“I thought you knew all about it.” Sandy Macdougal scrutinised his
companion almost suspiciously.
“Honestly, Sandy, I’m in the dark. The last time I saw Miss Stone she
said nothing about any plans for leaving in the near future.”
“Well, I’ll be jiggered! Why man, she left there the morning of the day
you went to Kam City. She was supposed to have been carried off by a
gang of Indians, and—”
“What’s that!” Hammond in his excitement leaped up seizing the other by
the collar. “Are you joking, or is this the truth you’re telling me?”
“Hold your horses, hold your horses!” urged the cook. “I’m tellin’ you
what was supposed to have happened—what the mounties claim they saw. You
knew they had arrested the Rev. Stubbs, the camp preacher, for takin’
part in it, didn’t you?”
“You’re away off again, Sandy; they arrested him on a charge of
vagrancy.”
“Vagrancy my eye! That was only a charge to hold him on until they could
get the goods on him for takin’ part in the abduction of the girl, and I
heard since that Stubbs got bail over in Kam City and jumped it. But I’m
one that ain’t takin’ much stock in that abduction talk,” continued the
cook. “For one thing, the Big Boss and that girl was on friendly terms;
in fact, he was the first one she came to see after she landed out here,
and it’s known he used to go out and see her on the island when you
weren’t busy takin’ up her time.” The cook grinned maliciously. “Don’t
you think it looks mighty odd that, knowin’, as he must have knowed, that
she was carried off like that, the Big Boss would leave for Montreal
without botherin’ his head about it? No, that ain’t a bit like Acey
Smith from what I know of him.”
“Then you think—?”
“That the whole deal was a frame-up between her and the Big Boss to keep
the Mounted Police busy on a false scent and to mystify everybody else
that’s tryin’ to find out what the North Star’s up to.”
“I can’t believe that!”
“Oh, you can’t, eh? Well, have you got a better hunch? Bein’ a bit soft
on the girl maybe has made you short-sighted. Hold on, don’t get mad; I
don’t blame you a bit, ’cause they tell me she’s some lallapaluza for
good looks. And I ain’t meanin’ to cast any reflections on her in this
deal either. Only, I like you, Hammond, and I wanted to help you out
with my hunch if it was any good to you, just in case some of the rest of
them was puttin’ something over on you.”
Hammond for the moment was silent in the face of these assertions. “But
I can’t for the life of me see,” he mused presently, “how Rev. Stubbs was
mixed up in it as you say.”
“Search me.” Sandy threw out his hands significantly. “For another
thing, did you know that since the girl was supposed to be kidnapped and
the Rev. Stubbs was arrested, his nibs, Ogima Bush the Medicine Man, has
dropped out of sight too? He hasn’t been seen anywhere inside or outside
the camps.”
“That might easily be,” discounted Hammond. “The Medicine Man was always
erratic in his comings and goings.”
“And you don’t think the girl was a party to the kidnappin’ frame-up?”
“No, I certainly do not!” There came a warning glint into Hammond’s
eyes. “And I say that because I know Miss Stone would not willingly be a
party to a crooked deal put up by Acey Smith or any one else.”
“H’m, then what happened her and where is she now?”
“I’ve got a theory where she’s been taken, and that’s what I’m going to
set about proving right away.” Hammond rose and strode to the door. At
the threshold he turned. “Sandy,” he said, “I’m awfully much obliged to
you for this little chat, and I think you’ve helped me a whole lot with
the problem. In a couple of days’ time I think I’ll be able to get at
the bottom of this whole mystery, or else—”
“Or else what?” insisted the cook.
“Or else I’m going to the mat with Acey Smith and choke the truth out of
him!”
The cook rose to offer some better advice, but Hammond flung out the door
and hurried down to the waterfront.
II
Hammond went direct to the tent occupied by Inspector Little, the officer
in command of the Mounties. The Inspector was busy with one of the
members of his force going over some papers.
“Sorry to trouble you, Inspector,” opened Hammond, “but I’d like to make
an appointment to meet you privately on a confidential matter.”
The inspector turned the papers he was examining face downwards on the
little camp table and looked up. “If it is an important matter,” he
suggested crisply, “we may as well deal with it at once.”
“It _is_ quite important,” Hammond assured him.
Inspector Little turned to his aide. “You may go, Sergeant,” he
indicated.
Alone with the officer, Hammond briefly explained that he was a personal
friend of the young lady, Miss Josephine Stone, who had been carried away
by force from Amethyst Island, and he had come to offer his services in
helping to locate her. He added that he had a theory where she could be
found and was ready to start on an expedition by himself to locate her
once he had gained the necessary permission of the police. He briefly
referred to the arrest of Rev. Nathan Stubbs and the rumour that he was
suspected of being a party to the abduction. He said nothing, however,
about his knowledge that the fake preacher was really a detective in the
employ of Norman T. Gildersleeve, fearing such a statement would lead him
into complications that would only delay the expedition he had in mind.
He did express the opinion that the camp preacher could have had no part
in the abduction.
The inspector stared at him fixedly. “What particular grounds have you
for that last statement, Mr. Hammond?” he asked.
“Well, for one thing he was down here at the dock at noon when I left
that day. I scarcely see how he could have got back here so soon.”
“That was Stubbs’ own contention when we quizzed him about it. So we
arrested him on a nominal charge of vagrancy to hold him on suspicion of
being implicated in the abduction. In the first place,” argued the
officer, “if he were innocent, why should he jump one thousand dollars
bail put up by his lawyer through mysterious friends? With much less
than a thousand dollars he could have cleared himself of the vagrancy
charge.”
Hammond knew the very important reason Norman T. Gildersleeve had for
getting the pseudo preacher out of the awkward position his continued
incarceration would have brought about, but he cautiously held silence on
that point.
“We had, as a matter of fact, very good grounds for suspecting Stubbs of
not only being implicated but of being the ring-leader in the abduction
of the young lady,” Inspector Little continued.
“Then he was actually seen taking part in the abduction?”
“Disguised, yes,” enlightened the inspector. “There has been something
altogether queer going on in these camps for some time as you likely know
from your own experiences, and I have no doubt the carrying off of Miss
Stone is but a side issue of some intrigue on foot between these rival
lumbermen. One or the other of the companies concerned must have put up
Stubbs’ bail.
“However, I have to admit that suspicion first fell upon the camp
preacher through some chance remarks on the part of Mr. A. C. Smith, the
superintendent, on the very morning the affair took place. Mr. Smith
came down to my tent early to ask me to go up and have breakfast with him
and to inquire if there were anything he or any of his men could do to
help us out in getting settled. A mighty charming and interesting chap
that man Smith for all his enemies say about him, and he has at least
shown us every courtesy since we’ve been here.
“Well, when we were just about to leave for the dining camp he whirled
and asked me a remarkable question. ‘Did you ever know of one man
successfully impersonating two different characters in life, Inspector
Little?’ He put it with that odd little smile of his—a sort of whimsical
grin that makes you think he’s reading your answer before you utter it.
“‘Well,’ I answered in a spirit of banter, ‘there was Dr. Jekyll and Mr.
Hyde, for instance, and I’ve known certain actors on the stage who did it
pretty smartly.’
“But he seemed to be serious about it. ‘I have reason to suspect such a
dual role is being played in real life on these limits,’ he said. Then
he asked: ‘Did you closely observe that camp preacher, Rev. Nathan
Stubbs, who was down around the docks here a little while ago?’
“‘I did,’ I answered, for it is part of our business to take sharp note
of all strange characters.
“‘And you looked over the Indian Medicine Man they call Ogima Bush who
was around here when you were putting up your tents late yesterday
afternoon?’
“I told him I had, wondering all the time what he was coming to. Then he
asked me if I had noted a peculiarity about both their eyes; that, while
the Indian had two little wounds either painted or gashed under his, the
camp preacher had talcum or some other powder thickly spread over what
seemed to be tiny scars in the same places on his face.
“‘By Jove,’ I answered, ‘now that you mention it, I have noticed that,
and though their clothing, colour of skin and get-up is different, they
are about the one height and build.’
“‘And they are both mysteries,’ he supplemented.
“‘Harmless fakirs, though?’ I hazarded.
“‘If they were,’ he replied briskly, ‘or rather if I were sure they were,
I wouldn’t take up your time about the matter. I am convinced,
Inspector, that they are both _very dangerous characters_.’
“His tone of conviction impressed me. ‘And you feel certain it is one
man playing two rôles?’ I insisted.
“‘Oh, I’m not saying that,’ he replied. ‘But the fact that you have
noted the same facial peculiarity in those two characters gives me an
idea which is further strengthened by the circumstance that no one has
seen the two of them about any part of the camps at the same time.’
“I thereupon suggested that if he, as superintendent of the camps,
requested it we could arrest the party on a charge of vagrancy while he
was playing either rôle and thus get at the bottom of the thing. But, on
the other hand, I added, I would much favour keeping a close watch on the
actions of both Ogima Bush and Rev. Nathan Stubbs until such time as
there appeared to be more definite grounds for making an arrest.
“‘That would be much the better plan, Inspector,’ he approved. ‘As I am
going away from camp for a few days I thought I would at least draw your
attention to the circumstances, and, in case there might be some mischief
afoot behind this apparent masquerading, you could be on the lookout for
it.’
“I thanked him and the subject was not again mentioned during our
conversation. That very morning, and it must have been a short time
after our talk, Miss Stone was forcibly carried off by a band of Indians
headed by the Medicine Man.”
Hammond sat bolt upright at this information, but he suppressed comment
while the inspector proceeded.
III
“It was not until the patrol down at Amethyst Island waterfront had
exhausted every effort to run down the abductors of the young lady and
failed that they sent in a report to us. The result was that we didn’t
hear of it until after dinner. The preacher was in the camp, seemingly
quite confident that his disguise was impenetrable. His surprise when
the handcuffs were slipped onto him was good enough to be genuine. Sure
enough though when a handkerchief was applied to the paste and talc
powder on his cheek bones it disclosed two tiny white scars under either
eye in the self-same spots where the Indian had the red gashes, not to
mention the false beard which we left on his face for the time being.”
Hammond sat dumbfounded at this recital. Those tiny white scars under
each eye! Gildersleeve was the only white man he had ever seen with such
peculiar marks. So—so Gildersleeve had really played the part of the
camp preacher himself? That much was patent now, and there seemed every
circumstantial incident to imply that he was also Ogima Bush, though
Hammond could scarcely conceive that any make-up could transform a white
man into such a thorough-going savage.
“The rest of the story is likely familiar to you, Mr. Hammond,” the
inspector was proceeding. “You know how Stubbs was arraigned in Kam City
on a charge of vagrancy, bailed out by friends and immediately
disappeared. It is all a mighty queer mix-up that stands in need of
thorough investigation, but,” with a wave of the hand and a raising of
the brows, “the Mounted force were sent out here to protect property and
maintain law and order in case of a strike, and without a shadow of a
clue to work on it’s pretty difficult getting on the trail of the
principals behind the outrage on Amethyst Island. Now, if you have any
additional facts that would be of use to us, or can give us tangible help
of any sort in locating Miss Stone, we will certainly be glad to avail
ourselves of your assistance.”
Hammond was incensed at the evident duplicity of Gildersleeve. But at
the same time he was tired of theorising, and of attempting to unravel
the puzzles which Nannabijou Camp confronted him with almost daily since
he had first arrived there. So he thrust aside the temptation to
enlighten the head of the Mounties on what he knew of the part
Gildersleeve must have played.
“I told you I had a theory as to where Miss Stone has been carried off,”
he reminded the inspector. “As a matter of fact, I am certain she has
been taken up into a hiding-place in the Cup of Nannabijou.”
“What—up above those cliffs on the hill? Why, man, our chaps say there’s
no opening in that wall of cliffs and they are unscalable.”
“They are popularly believed to be so,” replied Hammond, “but it is a
fact that there are parties who make a headquarters of some sort up
there, and they have a secret entrance.”
“Well!” The inspector pursed his moustached mouth in polite skepticism.
“You know how they get in and out?”
“Not for certain, but I do know a better and a quicker method.”
“Yes?”
“The air route.”
“H’mph.” The inspector evinced a sudden interest. “Yes, that _would_ be
practical for scouring the whole country back of here. But where are you
going to get an airplane and an airman?”
“There’s an old scouting single-seater in Kam City in fairly good shape.
I happened to see it in the armouries while I was rambling around the
city a couple of days before I first came out here. It’s the property of
the government. That’s why I came to you; as head of the Mounted Police
you could no doubt induce the government authorities to lend us the
machine for this purpose.”
“But your airman?”
For answer Hammond threw back the lapel of his coat displaying the
airman’s wings which he modestly wore over his left vest-pocket. “I can
take care of that part of it,” he suggested. “I saw three years’ hard
work in the air overseas, two years of which I put in playing tag with
Fritz.”
“Good enough!” Proof that Hammond had been a fighting airman seemed to
dissipate the inspector’s last doubt.
“There’ll be no harm in giving this thing a try,” he decided, “and by
Jove, we’ll get busy right off. We’ll send you over to Kam City in one
of the police motorboats to-morrow morning. I’ll give you a wire to file
to Major Lynn at Ottawa, and he’ll get things through for us without
unnecessary red tape. But look you, Hammond, when you go up to the Cup
you have only instructions to look around, get the lay of the land and
come right back here to me. Then we’ll act!”
The inspector glanced at his watch. “Now, by the way,” he suggested,
“I’ve some confounded routine to look after that will keep me busy for
the best part of a couple of hours. But after tea drop in for an hour or
so, old chap, and we’ll have a pipe and talk over the details of this
thing.”
Hammond went away highly elated. At last he was to get a real chance to
do some active work in ferreting out the mystery of the Nannabijou
Limits, and—he fervently hoped—to meet again Josephine Stone, the girl
with the high-arched eyebrows, and the woman of his dreams.