CONNIE PUTS ONE OVER
For a long time after Ick Far and the boy were asleep the man sat
smoking by the fireside. His eyes sparkled with daring and time and
again he smiled into the coals. Once or twice he pursed his lips to
whistle, but with a glance toward the sleeping forms, grinned
instead. As a matter of fact Notorious Bishop had been at his wit's
end to know how to proceed. True to the Superintendent's prediction
he had avoided the passes and crossed the divide at the head of a
steep and almost inaccessible canyon; a proceeding by which he gained
the Yukon country unobserved, but which, also, necessitated the
abandonment of all his outfit except a very light pack which
contained only the barest necessities. Furthermore, he was
unfamiliar with the Yukon territory, and knew nothing of the patrols
or the stations of the Mounted. He was proceeding, therefore, with
the utmost caution. The man was determined to outwit the Mounted,
and cross the International Boundary into Alaska. But the details of
his bold undertaking had not yet been fully worked out. Therefore,
Connie's offer appealed to the man strongly. Not only would it
afford a means of transportation but the adventure appealed to him.
With the pick of B Division guarding the passes, the interior of the
Yukon country was the safest place he could possibly be. And what a
chance to put one over on his ancient enemies! To travel through the
country as a guest of the Mounted, when from the boundary to the
Arctic, and from Hudson Bay to the Pacific, every officer in the
service was on the _qui vive_ to effect his arrest!
Notorious Bishop grinned into the camp-fire. At the moment of the
boy's offer he had decided to accept it, and it was only to avoid the
appearance of eagerness that he delayed his answer until morning. He
would play the adventure to the limit and later from some far-off
point of safety, would write thanking the Mounted for its
hospitality. The man knocked the ashes from his pipe, and as he drew
his blanket over him, glanced across the fire at the sleeping boy.
"Ain't you the cock-sure little rookie?" he muttered. "'Sure I'd
know him,' he says. Gee whiz! I'd like to whistle _Yankee Doodle_!"
The next morning the camp was early astir and after breakfast while
Connie was rolling his blankets, Notorious Bishop filled his pipe.
"D'you say, Constable, that the last boat leaves for Alaska on the
fifteenth?"
"Yes," answered the boy. "That's when she's due to leave. She
always gets away by the seventeenth."
The man removed his Stetson, and thoughtfully scratched his head as
his gaze travelled up and down the river. "Seems like a man can't do
no good here," he mused. "You say you got room in your canoe?"
"Sure," answered Connie, "that is, if you don't pack too big an
outfit."
Notorious Bishop laughed: "My outfit ain't hardly worth worryin'
about. You see I hit the river a piece above here an' throwed
together a raft, an' comin' around the bend yonder the raft run plumb
square onto a rock. I managed to save my blankets an' one pack-sack
an' the river took the rest. It's a lucky thing you happened along.
I just about made up my mind I'd have to hunt a tradin' post
somewheres."
"You'd have had a long hunt," said Connie. "The nearest trading post
is about fifty miles from here, and you'd have had to track-line all
the way back."
"All right, Constable," the man replied, "if it ain't going to
discommodate you none I believe I'll just go on along with you and
try my luck over in Alaska. It can't be no worse than it is here,
nohow. I'm sure obliged to you for the lift, an' if anything turns
up you'll find I ain't the one to forget it."
With his back to the man, Connie tightened the hitch of his bed-roll,
and he grinned as he tugged at the rope. "You said something then,
Mr. Notorious Bishop," he muttered to himself. "Cause something sure
is going to turn up and you can bet your boots you won't forget it,
either!"
The trip down the McQuesten was uneventful enough. Notorious Bishop
proved an actor of unusual ability. He played the part of a
prospector so well that Connie himself would have been deceived had
it not been for the fact that he had heard him whistle _Yankee
Doodle_. Even with _Yankee Doodle_ the boy was not quite sure of his
man. It was possible, after all, that the man was a prospector.
For, try as he would, Connie could trace no slightest resemblance
between the features of his passenger and those of the photographs on
file at headquarters. The chance word dropped by Corporal Rickey
that Notorious Bishop was in the habit of whistling _Yankee Doodle_
was the only clue to the man's identity. "'Course any one _could_
whistle _Yankee Doodle_," thought the boy to himself as the canoe
shot down toward the Yukon. "But way up here, somehow, the chances
are they _wouldn't_. Anyway, I'm going to play safe. If he ain't
Notorious Bishop, he can easily prove it, and if he is--Gee, won't
Dan's eyes stick out! The Sarg said he'd eat me up in two bites.
But I guess if he tries it he'll find out he's bit off more than he
can chew."
During the days of the journey the man talked freely. His mind was
evidently clear of any slightest suspicion that the boy was aware of
his identity, and he whiled away the time with accounts of adventures
in various parts of the world--adventures that made no mention of
police, but included stories of the diamond mines of Africa, the
sailing of ships, and the wonders of far Cathay. Connie listened,
wide-eyed to the stories, the while he noted that the man asked many
guarded questions pertaining to the country--questions that any
stranger might ask regarding settlements, trails, telegraph lines,
and the customs inspection on boats. And at all times was he loud in
his praise of the Mounted, and of their ability to preserve order
throughout the vast territory under their jurisdiction. He even
asked to be allowed to inspect the headquarters of B Division and to
meet the commanding Superintendent. Connie marvelled at the man's
audacity and promised to see what he could do toward the granting of
his request.
The Stewart River was run without mishap and shortly after the canoe
passed into the Yukon, the police launch _Aurora_, containing a
Corporal and a Constable on river patrol, chugged close alongside.
For a moment Connie was tempted to enlist the aid of the two officers
in conveying his prisoner to Dawson. But at the thought of
McKeever's words the boy's hand gripped tight upon his paddle.
"No, siree," he thought. "I've come this far alone, and I'm going to
see it through." So when the boat drew alongside the boy merely
saluted and joked a bit with the Constable, while Notorious Bishop,
with all the assurance in the world, begged a pipe of tobacco from
the Corporal. And the launch passed on and left the canoe to
continue her way toward Dawson.
That night they camped at the little police post on Indian River
where Notorious Bishop played checkers until far into the night with
the Constable in charge while Connie looked on and wondered at the
man's nerve. Next morning when they set out for Dawson, the
Constable accompanied them to the river and waved them good-bye with
a cordial invitation to the "prospector" to be sure and stop in
whenever he passed that way--an invitation which Notorious Bishop
laughingly accepted providing the Constable would brush up his
checker game.
The buildings of Dawson were sighted long before sundown and Connie's
heart thumped with suppressed excitement as the canoe beached close
to the wharf where the _Sarah_ was being loaded for her last trip
down the river.
"Guess I'll just go over an' get my ticket while the gettin's good,"
said Notorious, as he shouldered his rifle, blankets, and pack-sack.
"Come on along, Constable," he invited, "an' I'll go on up to
headquarters with you. I'd sure like to see what kind of a layout
you've got up here." The man booked passage for Fort Yukon, and
Connie accompanied him while he stowed his effects in his tiny cabin.
Returning to the wharf they were informed that the boat was due to
sail the following day.
"That sure suits me fine," said Notorious. "I've heard a lot about
Dawson, an' my friend, the Constable, here, he's promised to show me
'round a bit." Then, turning to the boy. "All right, Constable,
just you lead the way an' we'll start on our sight-seein' tour. You
be the guide, and I'll pay the freight." He laughed boisterously and
Connie noticed that his grey eyes were unusually bright. A sudden
fear clutched his heart. Was it possible that in some way he had
overplayed his game and that Notorious Bishop knew that he had been
recognized? Was the man planning a spectacular dash for liberty? Or
was his evident state of suppressed excitement occasioned by the fact
that he was soon to be brought face to face with the Superintendent,
himself, while the Superintendent's picked men were at that very
moment scouring the mountains for him many miles to the westward?
The boy wondered whether the man really had the nerve to visit
headquarters. He glanced swiftly into the grey eyes and decided he
had. They were almost at the barracks now. Upon the wooden sidewalk
of Front Street a couple of officers passed them with a cheery
greeting for the boy and a casual glance at his companion. Connie
found himself taxed to the utmost to conceal his excitement, and as
they entered the barracks side by side the boy fancied the other must
certainly hear the thumping of his heart. In the big room two or
three men were polishing kits. Connie motioned his companion to a
seat and hurried at once toward the office where he found the
Superintendent seated behind his flat-top desk. He looked up as the
boy entered and stood at attention.
"What, back already!" the commanding officer smiled as he glanced
over the trim figure of his youngest constable. Connie saluted and
advanced to the desk.
"Yes, sir," he answered, "here's my report." He extended the paper
and as the officer took it he noticed that the small hand trembled.
"What's on your mind, son?" he asked.
"If you please, sir," stammered Connie, "can I report later?"
The Superintendent smiled: "A matter of importance?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," answered Connie, "but there's a man out here that says he
wants to see you. Can I bring him in?"
"Who is he? What does he want?'
"Oh, he's--he says he's been prospecting up on the McQuesten. He's
heard a lot about the Mounted, and he'd like to visit headquarters."
"All right, show him in," growled the Superintendent, fingering the
report, "probably another one of those fellows that want to tell us
how to run the country." And the Superintendent wondered whether he
had seen a smile on Special Constable Morgan's lips as he hurried
from the room.
In the barracks Connie found the prospector seated at the table
between two constables. The man was glancing over some photographs
which he held in his hand. They were photographs of Notorious
Bishop, and the constables were eagerly detailing some of the man's
spectacular adventures. The boy advanced toward the group, smiling.
"He's the man I was telling you about."
The prospector nodded: "Seems to be a hard man to gather," he smiled,
"if what these lads been tellin' me is true."
"Oh, I don't know," answered Connie, "I bet I could manage him."
And the prospector joined loudly in the laughter which followed.
"The Superintendent says he'll see you now," said Connie, and the man
arose and followed toward the office. As the boy stepped aside to
allow the other to pass out the door, he motioned swiftly to the two
men at the table. The men arose and followed as Connie led the way
to the office. The Superintendent glanced up as the prospector
approached his desk. Connie saluted, and his right hand closed upon
the butt of his service revolver.
"Superintendent," said the boy standing very straight and very alert,
"I want to introduce--Notorious Bishop!"
The man whirled like a flash to stare squarely into the ugly black
muzzle of the revolver. For just an instant he hesitated as if
calculating his chance, and then with a shrug turned again to face
the Superintendent who was upon his feet staring incredulously from
the man to the boy.
The prospector was the first to speak, and Connie marvelled at the
consummate assurance of him as he smiled into the Superintendent's
face.
"Kid's kind of had this feller on his mind, I guess, 'til it's turned
his head," he said, with a wink.
"Yes," interrupted the boy, "I haven't had much else on my mind for
more than a week. But it hasn't turned my head any--not so you could
notice it! You thought you had me fooled, didn't you? You thought
because I was a boy you could run another one of your whizzers, but
you can't get away with it, this time--not with me you can't! We'll
just hold you 'til Dan McKeever comes. He knows you, all right."
"McKeever!" cried the man in sudden alarm. "Why he belongs down
on--." Suddenly he checked himself, and the Superintendent with a
puzzled look motioned the two constables to the man's side. "This is
an outrage!" stormed the prospector as he felt his arms seized from
behind. "Who is McKeever? An' what's he got to do with it?" For an
answer the Superintendent smiled.
"We will let him answer that question for himself," he said.
"Constable Morgan, if you will step out, I think you will find
Sergeant McKeever in his bunk. He reported in a couple of hours ago
for permission to push across into the Mackenzie Basin."
A moment later, Connie was shaking the big Sergeant's shoulder.
"Hey, Dan," he called, "wake up!"
"What you want?" growled McKeever, sleepily opening his eyes.
"The Superintendent wants you over at the office to identify an
acquaintance of yours."
"Who is it?" growled the Sergeant as he reached for his trousers.
"Oh, just a fellow by the name of Notorious Bishop I picked up about
a week ago out in the hills," answered the boy with a great show of
nonchalance.
"Notorious Bishop!" cried McKeever, staring into the boy's face.
"What do you mean, Notorious Bishop? If Notorious Bishop is in this
country he's over on the Mackenzie."
"Is he?" asked the boy with a grin, "you wait and see."
A few moments later, Dan McKeever entered the office and stared
wide-eyed into the face of the most wanted man in all Canada.
"Well I'll be--well I'll be _doggoned_!" he cried. "It's him! It's
him, all right! For the love of Mike, kid, how did you do it?" He
grabbed Connie by the arm.
"Who me?" grinned Connie, imitating to a nicety the tone in which
McKeever had answered the same question, "Oh, I just _surrounded
him_. He ain't hard to handle, if you know how. I just hung around
and let him arrest himself, didn't I, Notorious?" And Notorious
Bishop who saw that the game was up laughed sheepishly.
"I guess that's right, kid," he answered. "But you see, you're so
pumb little that-a-way, it throwed me off. I figured the safest
thing I could do was to come through the territory with an officer.
An' it would of be'n, too. Didn't we pass seven or eight of 'em?
Didn't I borrow tobacco off one of 'em, an' play checkers with 'em,
an' talk to 'em without one of 'em spottin' me? Tell me, straight,
Superintendent, would you of know'd me, yourself?"
The Superintendent smiled. "I'm afraid not," he admitted, with
puckered brow.
"What I can't figger," continued the prisoner, "is how the kid
spotted me when all the others couldn't."
"Just a trick of the trade," smiled the boy, and the twinkle in his
eye belied the innocence of his words as he continued: "The trouble
with you is that you couldn't take a fellow at his word. When I told
you to your face I would know Notorious Bishop if I saw him, didn't
you _believe_ me?"