Part 40 (2/2)
”Go through his pockets, Stanton,” he said.
The trooper did as he was told, but nothing of any importance was produced. The man was not armed, and there were only a few silver coins and bills for small amounts in his possession. Curtis stood wearily, regarding him with a thoughtful smile.
”Where did you get that jacket, Glover?” he asked.
”Where do you generally get such things? At the store.”
”Just so,” said Curtis. ”I can't see why you didn't buy one that fitted you.” He turned suddenly to Jepson. ”Bring me his jacket.”
The farmer made an abrupt movement, and then seemed to pull himself up, and stood still.
”I've no use for that kind of fooling; he has it on!”
”I don't think so,” said Curtis meaningly. ”Give Stanton a light and he'll look for it.”
The trooper came back in a few minutes with a garment which he had found under a bed, and Curtis bade him put it on the prisoner.
”Right size, same stuff as the trousers, and worn about as much,” he remarked. ”Now you can take it off and search it.”
There was nothing in the pockets, but after a careful examination Stanton felt a lump inside the lining. He ripped that, and took out a wad of carefully folded bills. On opening them, he found that they were for twenty dollars each, and clean. The corporal's face grew suddenly intent.
”Where did you get them?” he asked.
”You can find out!” muttered Glover, who had shown signs of dismay.
Curtis turned to Jepson.
”It looks as if he trusted you farther than I would; but harness your team quick, and if your brother's hanging round outside, tell him that he'll run up against trouble if he interferes.”
They sat down and waited until the farmer brought a wagon to the door, and then they drove away through the stinging cold with their prisoner.
CHAPTER XXIV
MURIEL PROVES OBDURATE
Some time after leaving Jepson's Curtis was joined by two police troopers, despatched by the sergeant who had telegraphed to him. He handed over his prisoner and the wagon to them, though he asked permission to keep the wad of bills. Then Stanton unhitched the jaded horses from the back of the vehicle, and while the others drove back to the west he and Curtis rode on to the post. Reaching it, half frozen, in the morning, they filled up the stove and went to sleep until supper time. When the meal was over they sat down to smoke and talk.
Stanton felt lazily good-humored. A sound sleep had refreshed him, and though his limbs still ached, he was enjoying the pleasant, physical reaction which usually succeeds fatigue and exposure to the arctic frost.
What was better, he had a.s.sisted in the successful completion of an arduous piece of work. Curtis lay back in a chair opposite him, pipe in mouth, his expression suggesting quiet satisfaction.
”Toes feeling pretty good?” he inquired by and by.
”I'm glad to say they are, though I thought I was in for trouble,”
Stanton said with a deprecatory smile. ”I allow that frost-bite's a thing I'm easy scared about, after the patrol I made with Stafford through the northern bush last winter. Got his foot wet with mushy snow crossing a rapid where the ice was working, and it froze bad; had to pack him the last two hundred miles on the sled, with the dogs getting used up, and the grub running out. They paid him off at Regina and sent him home; but Stafford will never put on an ordinary boot again.”
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