THE SCARLET SPECIAL
Ten days after the battle between the sergeant and the factor, the
quiet of Armistice camp was again upset, this time most unexpectedly
by the arrival of the "scarlet special." A corporal of the Royal
Mounted breezed in by dog team over the frozen wastes from far-away
Athabaska, the end of rail gateway of the North, where English to
some extent gives place to Cree.
That he brought no mail--beyond a sealed order bag for Sergeant
Seymour--showed that the special's visit was as sudden as a telegram.
But he did carry a late newspaper or two and several magazines that
gave week-by-week gists of the world's news since Armistice last had
heard from "Outside," so his unexpected arrival was more than welcome
to the whites in the camp.
To the disappointment of Corporal Gaspard Le Blanc, the short, plump
but doughty French-Canadian who had made the remarkable trip, Seymour
was not at the post. The morning after the fight, a report had
reached the detachment that a band of Eskimo on Skelly River were
destitute. With Constable La Marr still convalescing from his
accident, the sergeant had set out to investigate. His return was
expected any hour of any day.
As the orders were sealed, the corporal to open them only when
assured that something had happened to the ranking non-com to whom
they were addressed, there seemed nothing to do but wait.
Factor Karmack was the first to call at headquarters. He met with a
cold reception from La Marr, who naturally had sided with his
superior on learning of the aspersion put upon the Force by the fur
trader's insinuations in the O'Malley case.
"I hear there's a special in from outside," began the factor in his
blandest manner. "Hope he had a good trip."
"Aye, not so bad," returned the constable, as communicative as a seal.
"By any chance, did he bring any mail for me?"
"Nothing but police business,--this special."
If Karmack was disturbed, he took pains not to show it.
"But surely he brought some newspapers. Might I borrow----"
"I'm sending a spare paper over to Mission House," was the chilly
response. "You'd best go there for your news, Karmack."
The factor made as graceful an exit as any one could have asked,
nodding pleasantly to the newly arrived corporal. Familiar with the
usual fraternity of life in the land of bared boughs and grieving
winds, the genial Gaspard expressed surprise.
"What the hell how is?" he asked. "You gots something on that crow,
_non_?"
"I don't like him," was all La Marr replied, not caring to bare his
superior's heart troubles even to one of the Force.
The corporal, steeled against prying into personal affairs, asked no
further questions. The two spent the day pleasantly by the open
fire, which Avic--the prisoner under open arrest--kept replenished,
it happening to be his week for headquarters fatigue duty.
At four in the afternoon, Sergeant Seymour mushed in, tired and worn
from his long errand of mercy. This he had solved by moving the
improvident band to another camp of natives who were well supplied
with food, the usual procedure in a country where it is impracticable
to move relief supplies in mid-winter.
His first glance at the features of the corporal, who turned out to
help him with the dogs, acted as a cocktail that banished all
fatigue. A strange Mountie in quarters could mean only excitement of
some sort and that was the most joyous tonic the sergeant knew.
Scarcely did he wait to peel off his trail clothes, so eager was he
to break the seal of the dispatch bag. It held but a single sheet of
orders--a dispatch from the commissioner himself dated at Ottawa more
than five weeks before. With the two subordinates looking on in an
interest that dared not be put into question form, he read and reread
the message. The second scanning thereof snapped him to his feet.
"When did you arrive, corporal?" he asked.
"This morning--early."
"Said nothing about what brought you, I hope?"
A smile flicked the ruddy Canadian face and the French shoulders
shrugged. "How could I, when I know not why they sent me on such a
mush of the devil?"
"Karmack was here asking for mail--for the loan of papers," added La
Marr. "I told him to go to Mission House for his news."
"Good enough," nodded the O.C. and started getting into the uniform
which he wore when at the detachment. In his absence the tunic had
been made fairly presentable, with few traces of his clash with the
factor. "I'm going out for a prisoner," he said at the door. "You
boys sit tight."
Straight across to the store of the Arctic Trading Company he
stalked, but to meet with disappointment. Both the store and
dwelling of Karmack were locked. Even the native interpreter was not
to be roused. But the sergeant remembered what the constable had
said about going to Mission House for newspapers. Doubtless, the
factor was there, reading what had happened in the all-alive world
since last report. It would not surprise him to find the four making
a news feast out of the unexpected boon--reading aloud in turn every
morsel of type, even to the new advertisements. He quartered to the
house of the Morrows.
"Safe home again, Seymour," Luke Morrow greeted him and dragged him
hospitably into the living room. "It is well, but I wish you'd been
a day sooner."
Seymour did not trouble to learn what the missionary meant by his
concluding wish, but asked at once if Karmack was calling.
The missionary shook his head, his expression one of genuine surprise.
"Sort of expected to find him--reading papers brought in by special,"
explained Seymour. "La Marr said he had sent some over to you and
told Karmack to come here for the news."
"Why--but--" Morrow was disturbed to a point of stammering distress.
"The factor was here this morning, but he had news of his own.
Didn't he leave the keys to the trading post with you police?"
Seymour in his turn, was aroused. "The keys! Why should he leave
his keys with us?"
"He came here shortly before noon," explained the sky-pilot. "Said
the scarlet special had brought him a summons to Ottawa that could
not be denied. He meant to ask you people to take charge until his
relief arrived. His years of pioneer service in the North had been
rewarded at last, he told us, and he was to be made a high official
of the Arctic at the Ottawa headquarters. Naturally, we rejoiced
with him."
"The nerve of the scamp!" exclaimed the sergeant. "The only word the
special brought was a warrant for his arrest. He has been robbing
the company for years and they've just found him out--got the proof.
I came to arrest him. He must have surmised that the coming of the
special meant only one thing and decided to make his get-away. And
howling sun-dogs, this warrant I hold is a secret one! No general
alarm has been sent out. Can I see Miss O'Malley--perhaps he's told
her something of his plans? In the interests of justice, after she's
seen the warrant, I'm sure she'll not protect him, much as she
dislikes me."
The missionary seemed stunned. He bent over in his chair and cupped
his hands over his eyes in an attitude of prayer.
"Good Lord, forgive us for our sins of omission," Seymour heard him
murmur. "We are but mortal and the flesh of all mortals is weak.
How were we to know----"
"Here, here!" interrupted the sergeant impatiently, although he had
respect enough for prayer. "It's not your fault that Karmack got
away or that you let him use Mission House in his courtship. You
good folks couldn't have known he had done anything wrong. Send for
Miss O'Malley at once. I've no time to lose."
Luke Morrow forgot his supplications for pardon and sprang to his
feet. "No time to lose. You're right. That scoundrel was
persuasive and we were weak. Karmack took Moira with him, offering
her safe conduct to her friends and home in British Columbia. We'll
never forgive ourselves for----"
But Sergeant Scarlet was gone in too great a hurry to close the door
behind him.