United Forces
The sun of the short winter day was sinking below the distant mountain
peaks away to the west. It touched with its departing rays three forms
moving slowly across a vast desolate waste of snow. Hugo, the trapper,
and Tom Rolfe, the constable, were in harness, drawing the toboggan on
which Marion was seated. The men were on snow-shoes, with Hugo ahead,
with ropes across their shoulders. They were part way over the burnt
region where the sergeant had been overcome by the storm when the
sun went down. Ahead in the distance where the trees stood thick and
sombre, they planned to rest for the night. Here they hoped to find the
sergeant, and Marion’s heart beat fast at the thought of meeting him
again.
It was dark by the time they reached the edge of the forest, and a few
rods among the trees they found the sergeant standing before a cheerful
fire. His face brightened with joy as he saw them, and in another
minute he had Marion clasped in his arms. Hugo and Rolfe pretended not
to notice the meeting of the lovers, but busied themselves about the
fire.
Strange thoughts were beating through the trapper’s mind for all his
apparent unconcern. How he longed for Marion to greet him in such an
affectionate manner as she did the sergeant. He was her father, while
the other she had known but a short time. A sudden impulse swept upon
him to get off by himself, and forget forever that he had a daughter.
He would crush out every vestige of affection from his heart, and turn
his hand more strongly than ever against all mankind. He had been a
weak fool to be so easily deluded by mere sentiment.
He straightened himself up with a jerk from his bending position. Yes,
he would go at once, pretending that he had business elsewhere. But
just then Sergeant North stepped toward him, and held out his hand.
“I want to thank you for what you have done,” he began. “I can never
repay you. Let us henceforth be friends.”
Taken completely aback by this unexpected move, Hugo hesitated. It
was only for a minute, however, and then he drew his body to its full
height and looked steadily into the eyes of the man standing before him.
“How can we be friends?” he asked. “Am not I a suspected criminal? Have
you not been seeking me for years? But for a peculiar turn of events,
I would now be away in the fastness of the hills where you could never
find me. I am your prisoner now, so how can captor and captive be
friends?”
“You are no captive of mine,” the sergeant calmly replied. “You may
leave this place whenever you wish, and no hand will be raised to
restrain you. I never yet arrested a man who did what you have done for
us.”
“But how can you face your commanding officer when you meet him if you
let me go? In the eyes of the law I am a criminal. Have you forgotten
that?”
“I never knew it to forget, Hugo. Explain what you mean.”
“About that murder near the C. D. Cut-Off, of course. Am I not
suspected of that? Have you not been on my trail ever since you heard
of my visit to the Kynox hospital with the little child?”
“You are right, but only to a certain extent. Your actions naturally
aroused our suspicions, especially after you fled that night from the
cabin when we had taken shelter from the storm. But I had no orders
from Headquarters to follow you. I merely took the matter into my own
hands while on patrol from the river to The Gap. I wished to overtake
you to find out from your own lips what you knew about that murder. But
now I would no more think of suspecting you than I would Marion. You
are too noble a man to do such a diabolical deed. Do you not believe
me?”
“And you say that you never had orders to follow me and arrest me?”
Hugo asked in surprise. “Are you sure that the Force hasn’t been on
the watch for me for years? Haven’t I been looked upon as a criminal
escaped from justice?”
Into the sergeant’s mind there came all at once something which partly
explained the reason of the strange actions of the man standing
before him. He had evidently been labouring for years under a great
misapprehension. He had been obsessed with the idea that the Police
were searching for him. It was quite apparent that the man had fled
from the ways of civilisation, but to imagine that he could escape
in the northland was ridiculous. Of all places on the earth the
Yukon territory was the worst region for any criminal to flee for
refuge. Here the two Divisions of the Mounted Police spread out their
marvellous net into the most remote recesses. No miscreant had ever yet
escaped, no matter to what part of the world he had fled. Had they
wanted Hugo, the trapper, they could have taken him years ago. They
knew of his wanderings, and his peculiarities. Although the man was a
mystery, they never interfered with his manner of living. To them he
was a harmless being, one of many dwelling in the country.
“We never considered you as a criminal,” the sergeant replied. “We
never had any orders to arrest you.”
“You didn’t!” Hugo exclaimed. “Why, then, did you demand me to
surrender when I found you wallowing about in the snow, overcome by the
storm?”
“I wanted to hold you that you might give evidence in the murder case.
And, besides, I guess I must have been half crazy that day. I hardly
knew what a fool-thing I was doing.”
“H’m, you are certainly right. But it was a mighty plucky thing to do,
as I told you then. Why, I could have knocked you on the head and no
one would have been the wiser. It would have been charged to the storm.”
“Why didn’t you do it? It was your great opportunity.”
“Because I am not a brute. And, further, for my daughter’s sake. Now
you understand.”
“I do,” the sergeant replied. “And for her sake, if for nothing else,
let us be friends.”
Once more he held out his hand, which Hugo immediately grasped. For a
few seconds they faced each other without a word. Their eyes met in
a steady look, and their hearts thrilled. Thus two strong men became
friends there in the heart of the great wilderness. The bond of union
was sealed which neither would lightly break.
All this had been of intense interest to Marion. She listened to the
conversation, and studied the faces of the two men with fast-beating
heart. But when they at length clasped hands, she sprang forward and
threw her arms about her father. Her eyes were moist with tears, but
her face was radiant with joy.
“Oh, I am so glad, so glad!” she murmured. “Now we can all be happy.”
“Why, yes, so we can,” Hugo replied, his heart lighter than it had been
for years. “And something to eat will make us happier still.”
“Supper all ready on the dining-car,” was the startling and unexpected
announcement from Rolfe, who had been busy preparing the meal. His face
was beaming with satisfaction as the three turned toward him. “Seats
for two right here,” he continued, motioning to a blanket spread out
upon some fir boughs. “Please walk this way.”
“You are to be congratulated, Mr. Rolfe,” Marion smilingly told him.
“You have served a wonderful supper.”
“It certainly is, Miss Brisbane. Fried moose steak, with things we call
‘potatoes,’ bread, hardtack, biscuits, jam, and tea. Say, this is a
banquet after what we’ve been eating.”
“Poetry, eh, Tom?” the sergeant queried. “Those are the best words I’ve
heard you utter in a long time. That’s the kind of poetry which appeals
to me.”
“Oh, that’s nothing to what I can do, sergeant. Just listen to this:
“Give me, oh, give me, just as I am,
Potatoes and moose steak, hardtack and jam.
“Doesn’t that strike you as a masterpiece? Let me sing it for you. I
am sure you will enjoy it. I can add more lines as I go along.”
“Mercy! Mercy, Tom!” the sergeant exclaimed, taking his seat at
Marion’s side. “We’ve come through enough hardships of late. Do you
wish to inflict on us any more?”
“I only wanted to cheer you all up,” Rolfe explained. “After your most
solemncoly and dramatic spiel, I thought a little diversion wouldn’t
come amiss. However, if you don’t appreciate my efforts, I shall keep
my great thoughts to myself. The course of true genius, like love,
never did run smooth. I guess it’s something like what Crabbe, the
poet, said:
“‘Genius! thou gift of Heav’n! thou light divine!
Amid what dangers art thou doom’d to shine!’”
While Rolfe was thus talking, Hugo was watching him most intently. His
gray eyes shone with humor, a striking contrast to the fire of fear and
rage which had so often gleamed in those same orbs.
“Young man,” he began, “your words do me good. It’s been long years
since I have heard the light chatter of youth. Tragedy has been hanging
dark over my life. It has surrounded me on every trail, and entered
into my very soul. I have been a victim of gloom and despair. To me
the past was as a closed book, the present a period of misery, and the
future held out no hope. At times I had almost forgotten that I was
a man, and was in danger of becoming a mere brute. But a change has
taken place. The spirit of heaviness has been removed, and I see with
other eyes. Give me your hand, young man, and let us shake. I like your
buoyant spirit.”
Rolfe was much surprised at this unexpected speech, and as he seized
the trapper’s outstretched hand in a firm grip, his bronzed face
flushed with pleasure.
“Thank you, sir,” he replied. “I am pleased to know that you appreciate
my poetic chatter, and that it has done something to dispel the clouds
of darkness from your soul. I hope the rest of our discerning company
will make a note of this. It is certainly great to have such peace
and harmony reigning in our midst. This has been a regular old-time
experience meeting. I shall now call on the sergeant to lead us in
singing the ‘Doxology.’ He has a wonderful voice, which once heard can
never be forgotten.”
The truce agreed upon that night was a real one. It was a calm after
storm, peace after conflict. All were weary after the toil of the day
and for lack of sleep, and it was a great comfort to sit near the
bright fire and talk about the events of the last few days. Marion’s
face grew grave as Hugo told about finding the half-breed girl, lost,
demented, and how he had taken her to one of his cabins, and from there
to The Gap. He passed lightly over what that journey had meant to him,
and how for several miles he had been forced to carry the unconscious
girl in his arms.
“Poor Zell!” Marion said. “She was so bright and animated when we left
Big Chance. She was longing to hurry back to be once more with her
wounded young lover. She must have become lost when she went after the
wood.”
“The girl was not lost at first,” Hugo replied. “She was carried off
by that villain, Bill, the Slugger. I have proof, and when we come
face to face there will be another kind of experience meeting. The
mean, contemptible cur! Why, he even rewarded the hospitality of the
missionary at The Gap, that noble man of God, by stealing all of his
food, and lighting out some time in the night. It might be as well,
sergeant, to round up that brute and ask him a few questions about that
murder near the C. D. Cut-off.”
“I am not surprised at what you tell me,” the sergeant replied. “Bill
is a bad man, and we need him. I was hoping to be first at The Gap to
head him off. The task will be much more difficult now, so we shall
need your help.”
“And you shall have it,” Hugo emphatically declared. “I shall do
everything in my power to bring the guilty to justice.”
For a long time that night the sergeant and Hugo talked after Marion
and the constable were asleep. The trapper told all he knew about
finding the Haines child in the lonely cabin, and the blood-stains
leading to the river. But of the finding of the diamond ring he said
nothing. He would explain about that when he received it from the
missionary, and handed it over to the sergeant.
“I never expected to tell you all this,” he said in conclusion. “I
looked upon the Force as my deadly enemy, for reasons which you already
partly know. What led me to flee to this country I do not wish to
explain now. That can wait. But I see things in a new light, and I am
glad. I have been living long enough in hell, but have at last escaped.
There, now, I think we have talked enough. We need rest, for a hard
journey lies ahead of us to-morrow.”