To Be Continued
For two days Marion Brisbane lived in a world of doubt and uncertainty.
She was in a quandary. She had found her father, only to lose him
again. Should she go in search of him? But where would she go? How
could she find him? To whom could she turn for advice and help? How
could she explain the reason of her search without telling who the man
really was? And this she did not wish to do, for the present, at least.
This problem agitated her mind as she went mechanically about her work.
The child had been taken by a man and his wife who had no children of
their own, and were strongly drawn to the little waif of the night.
When the story of the old man’s visit to the hospital and his sudden
disappearance leaked out, it caused much comment in Kynox. Several
surmised that it was Hugo, the wanderer of the trails, the peculiar
trapper about whom they had heard much, although few had ever seen him.
From the earliest days mystery has always delighted the human mind.
Strange characters, noted for their peculiar ways, and endowed with
great strength, have ever made special appeal. They give a spice, a
thrill to life, and remove some of its monotonous drabness. No race, no
age, has ever lacked some mysterious being about whom many legendary
tales gather. This was true in a way of Hugo, the trapper. Where
he had come from no one knew. He had no settled abode, being in one
place to-day and miles away on the morrow. He had been known to appear
suddenly at some mining camp with an injured prospector and vanish
again into the wilderness. He was as elusive as a shadow, and just as
intangible. He was terrible in a fight, so it was asserted, and he was
the only creature of which the grizzlies, the dread of the trails,
were afraid. His latest act in bringing in the little child stirred up
afresh the numerous stories concerning his mysterious life.
Marion had heard some of these tales before, but had taken no special
interest in them until now. She had concluded that the trapper was
some great uncouth creature, half man and half beast by nature, who
had lived most of his life in the wilderness. But never for an instant
had he meant anything to her. That such a being could be the one for
whom she was so anxiously seeking was beyond the bounds of her wildest
imagination. Now she knew, and she listened with fast-beating heart to
every scrap of information concerning the trapper. She concealed her
feelings as much as possible, although when alone in her own room she
would pace excitedly to and fro, her mind rent by wild, conflicting
emotions. That she must see him again was the burden of her thoughts.
To find him she had come north, and she must not give up until she had
accomplished her purpose.
The second evening after Hugo’s arrival a startling story drifted into
Kynox from Swift Stream. It told of the murder of Bill Haines, his
wife, and little child near the C. D. Cut-Off. Two miners on their way
down river had stopped at the cabin, found signs of a fierce struggle,
and marks of blood leading to the river. They had reported the affair
to the Mounted Police at the first station they reached, so the news
was at once flashed to headquarters at Swift Stream, over the single
wire running from Ashcroft to Dawson.
This was most disturbing news to the people of Kynox, and their
thoughts naturally turned to the little child which had been brought to
the hospital by Hugo, the trapper. Did the latter know anything about
the murder? they asked one another. What was he doing with the child?
and why had he left so mysteriously in the night? It was very strange
and suspicious, they reasoned, that he had reported nothing, and had
given no word of explanation. It was surely the Haines’ child he had
brought to Kynox, so he must know something about the terrible affair
near the Cut-Off.
Marion was now more disturbed than ever. Outwardly she was very calm
as she answered the numerous questions about the night visitors. She
merely related what the night nurse had told her, and made no mention
of her own first secret visit to the kitchen. She was determined not to
divulge that. But fearful thoughts would persist in forcing themselves
into her mind. Had her father committed that terrible deed? Anyway, if
he knew anything about it why had he not reported at once? Her father
a murderer! The idea was almost unbearable. She could not believe it.
No Brisbane would ever descend to such depths. But her father would
be suspected. The Police would hear about his visit to the hospital
with the child, and of his sudden departure in the night. They would
track him, find him, and bring him to trial. Would he be able to clear
himself? to prove that he was innocent?
Marion thought of all this and a great deal more during the rest of
the week. She found it difficult to sleep, for she would awake in
the middle of the night overwhelmed with a presentiment of impending
disaster. Saturday came, and also Sergeant John North. He and Rolfe
brought the injured miner to the hospital, and when the constable
had left, North remained. Marion thought that he had never looked so
handsome as when he stood before her that afternoon, clad just as he
had come from the trail. He was a noble specimen of a man, well-built,
and over six feet in height. His face, bronzed and weather-beaten, was
strong, and his mouth and chin firm. His face was smooth-shaven, for
Sergeant North was careful of his personal appearance, particularly so
whenever he visited Kynox. His eyes, grey and steady, were never known
to flinch from danger. When they glowed with anger or indignation, as
they did on special occasions, their owner was a man to be feared. But
now they shone with a tender expression as they rested upon Marion
Brisbane’s slightly flushed face.
Sergeant North was a reserved man, and little accustomed to the company
of women. Years on the frontiers of civilization had brought him into
contact with many stern realities of life. Surrounded by the ruggedness
and the grandeur of nature in every possible form, he had gradually
and unconsciously become moulded by its mystic influence. The ways of
polite society were to him a closed book, and the petty social chatter
made no appeal. He loved the open, the great spaces, and the winding
trails. The iron of the land had entered into his being, and the
silent, mysterious alchemy of the north affected his soul like magic.
Combined with all these subtle influences was the law of the Force he
served. It was Duty first and last. “Maintien le Droit” was the motto
of this wonderful body of men, and the code written in the little red
manual was stern and stripped of all useless verbiage. It told without
a shadow of a doubt what was expected, and the instructions were to be
followed to the letter. This suited Sergeant North. He loved the life,
and never once had he swerved one hair’s breadth from the strict line
of duty.
His was not an impressionable nature, and he was always shy in the
presence of women. But when Marion Brisbane crossed his path it was
altogether different. She inspired him with confidence, his shyness
vanished, and he could talk freely. Out upon the trails a vision of
her was ever before him, and he always counted the days until he could
see her again. So standing before her this afternoon in the hospital,
he feasted his soul upon her face, lips, eyes, and hair. He did not
want to talk; it was heaven enough to be near her, and to revel in
her beauty. Whatever Sergeant North did it was with his whole might.
He threw himself unreservedly into every undertaking. He was a hard
trailsman, a stern fighter, when fighting was necessary, and now for
the first time in his life he was a great lover.
Marion’s eyes dropped beneath North’s ardent gaze, and she became
somewhat embarrassed. Neither spoke, and for a few seconds intense
silence reigned. Then they both smiled and the tension was broken.
“Forgive me for keeping you standing,” Marion apologized. “It is very
stupid of me. Come in here,” and she opened a door on her right.
“I have not long to stay,” North explained, as he followed her into the
little sitting-room, and seated himself in a comfortable chair which
Marion offered. “There is very serious business ahead. You know to what
I refer.”
“You mean the murder near the C. D. Cut-Off, I suppose,” Marion replied
as she seated herself near the window. “I have heard of it.”
“And you had a visit from Hugo, the trapper, I understand.”
“Oh, yes. He brought a little child here one night.”
“Where is the child now?”
“With Mr. and Mrs. Parker. They have taken it as their own, and are
very fond of it.”
Sergeant North gazed thoughtfully out of the window for a few seconds.
He was really looking at the peak of the Golden Horn far away in the
distance, although he saw it not. His mind was upon more important
things.
“Are you certain that it was Hugo, the trapper, who brought that child
here?” he asked.
“No, I am not,” Marion emphatically replied, “but it is the general
opinion in Kynox that he is the man.”
“Did he wear his cap while he was in the hospital?”
“Yes, even when he was asleep on the kitchen floor.”
“Then it was Hugo, all right; I never saw him without his cap.”
“Why does he always wear it?”
“I do not know.”
Marion’s hands were clasped upon her lap, and although her eyes were
downcast she knew that the sergeant was looking intently upon her face.
The next instant he had reached out and caught both of her hands in
his. With a slight cry of surprise, Marion tried to free her hands, but
the sergeant held them firm.
“Don’t, don’t,” she gasped as she struggled to her feet. “You must not
do that; it isn’t right.”
“Love makes it right,” North replied, as he also rose. “Marion, I love
you, and I want you to know it. I am a man of few words, and not used
to love-making language. But I must tell you. I cannot restrain myself
any longer.”
He ceased, drew her to him, and his lips met hers. No longer did Marion
contend, for a happiness such as she had never known swept over her.
She felt North’s strong arms about her, holding her close. Neither
spoke. It was enough that they were together, so words were unnecessary.
Gently at length Marion freed herself from her lover’s embrace, and
stood before him with flaming cheeks.
“I never imagined that you loved me so much,” she murmured. “It seems
like a wonderful dream.”
“It is no dream,” North assured, “it is the glorious reality. I was
afraid that you didn’t love me, but I had to tell you to-day, for I
might not see you again for some time.”
“What! are you going away?”
“Yes, in a short time, just as soon as the dogs get rested a little.
There is serious work ahead, and I must not delay.”
“In connection with the murder?”
“Yes. Hugo is the man I want. He is either the murderer, or he has
information which I need. But he is a nasty man to face, and there may
be trouble.”
“Oh! do you think so?” The color faded somewhat from Marion’s cheeks.
She had to think of two now. How terrible it would be if her father and
her lover should meet in a deadly encounter! She longed to tell North
of the discovery she had made. If he knew that Hugo was her father,
would he let him escape for her sake? But how could she tell him? What
would he think of her for trying to divert him from the strict line of
duty which she understood he had always followed?
These thoughts flashed through her mind with lightning rapidity as
she stood there. North noted the troubled expression in her eyes, and
attributed it to her interest on his behalf.
“You must not worry about me,” he told her. “I am well able to take
care of myself.”
“But I am thinking about the trapper,” Marion truthfully explained. “I
do not believe that he is the murderer. Why should he have brought that
little child here if he had murdered its parents? Would he not have
killed it, too, and fled to the wilderness? Have you thought of that?”
“Indeed I have,” was the emphatic reply, “and it is that which puzzles
me. But Hugo is a strange character, and always does just the opposite
from what one would expect. He may have brought the child here in order
to deceive us.”
“But no one would have suspected him,” Marion insisted. “He could have
murdered the parents and child and thrown their bodies into the river.
What reason did he have for saving the child and bringing it here?
Would you have suspected him of the deed?”
“Not at first, perhaps, but eventually we would have suspected him. It
is utterly impossible for any man to escape in a country such as this.
So far, every criminal has been brought to justice, no matter to what
part of the world he fled. But, there, let us forget Hugo at present.
I shall have enough of him before long. It is of you alone I want to
think, Marion. Your love means more to me than anything else. And you
do love me, don’t you? The assurance from your lips will send me forth
upon my quest with renewed energy. I shall hasten the task, knowing
that the sooner it is accomplished, the sooner I shall return to you.”
The sergeant was about to reach out his arms once more to draw Marion
toward him, when a step along the hallway caused him to hesitate. He
retreated a couple of steps, and thus the two were standing facing each
other in a most formal manner as a nurse appeared at the door.
“Excuse me, Miss Brisbane,” she began, “but a man has just arrived from
Big Chance for the doctor. A miner has been seriously injured, and
needs medical aid.”
“Where is the man who brought the news?” Marion questioned, now all
attention.
“He has gone to look after his dogs,” was the reply. “I told him the
doctor was away, but that we are expecting him back soon. He asked if
one of the nurses could go, as the case is very urgent. He said that
he could not take his own dogs out again, as they are almost exhausted
with travelling day and night. I wonder what can be done.”
“I must get a team and go at once,” Marion emphatically declared. “I
have gone before, so can do it again. Tell Miss Wade to prepare my
outfit, as she knows what I shall need. I know where I can get a good
team of dogs, so shall look after that myself.”
When the nurse had gone, Marion turned to the sergeant. Her eyes shone
with animation and her face expressed determination.
“You will have to excuse me,” she simply said. “‘Duty first’ is the
law here as well as in the Force. I must get ready at once.”
“Suppose you travel with me,” North suggested. “I am bound for Big
Chance, and nothing on earth would please me better than to have you
along. I shall order Rolfe to have the dogs ready in an hour’s time.
They are a great team, and can make the trip faster than any dogs you
can get in Kynox. I am sure we shall enjoy the run together. Rolfe,
too, will be delighted to have a woman along. He will regale you with
poetry of which his head is full. He is an excellent fellow, for all
that, and as true as steel.”
“I think it will be splendid to go with you,” Marion emphatically
replied. “It will not take me long to get ready. As for poetry, Mr.
Rolfe can quote to his heart’s content. I shall enjoy it, I am sure.”
“But what about the important matter we were discussing when the nurse
arrived? I am hungry for your answer. You surely have it ready.”
“Oh, that’s to be continued, like they say about a story,” Marion
smilingly replied.
“On the trail?”
“Perhaps so.”
“And the conclusion?”
Marion paused as she was about to leave the room. Her thoughts flashed
to the murder, and her suspected father. The troubled expression
returned to her eyes as she turned them upon her lover’s face.
“The conclusion can only come after several more chapters have been
written,” she quietly replied. “All depends upon the nature of those
chapters. You must be patient and wait.”