Part 22 (2/2)

”Couldn't we leave in the morning--early?” he suggested. ”I think I'd rather ride by daylight.”

”You'll feel more comfortable by night,” laughed Paul, ”and you don't need to miss your sleep. Norman won't have any use for you.”

The discussion did not close for some time after this and when supper was finally served, the last detail had been arranged. The meal proceeded without any sign of the momentous event to follow. At its conclusion, Colonel Howell turned to Ewen and Miller and said, almost nonchalantly:

”Boys, I'm going to leave you for a few days. Your friend Chandler is on his way to Edmonton to make trouble for me.”

Both men looked startled and Ewen exclaimed:

”What's that?”

”The same thing he wanted you boys to do and in which you wouldn't join him.”

”What do you mean?” Miller managed to ask.

”What you wrote him a letter about,” answered Colonel Howell calmly. ”I read that. But,” he went on, as both men gave new signs of alarm, ”I'm goin' to forget it. Do you men want to go on working for me as you have in the past?”

Flushed faces made any other answer unnecessary.

”All right,” continued Colonel Howell, ”then that's settled. But I want you to get Chandler out of your systems. You can stay here. To show you that I trust you, I'm going to leave you in the camp again.”

Immediately, activity began; Norman and Roy working on the _Gitchie Manitou_, the half-breed preparing supplies, and Colonel Howell making notes and getting papers together on the still littered table.

On an air line, the young aviators estimated the distance across country at about two hundred and seventy miles. After a consultation it was decided to proceed at the rate of about thirty-five miles an hour. This meant eight hours in the air. As there was no need of reaching the distant city before eight o'clock, it was agreed to start at midnight. At seven o'clock, all preparations having been made, Norman turned in for a few hours' sleep.

Colonel Howell devoted some time to his private arrangements and spent the remainder of the evening discussing the flight with the other occupants of the cabin. Norman being sound asleep at twelve o'clock, the others agreed not to arouse him for another hour, considering the work he had done that day. But at one o'clock new activity began.

A match was again applied to the gas well and the monoplane was whirled out into the spectacular illumination. There could be only a brief handshake all around. Then, without a slip, the monoplane was off in the light of the waning moon.

Least of all did the voyagers suffer from the keen cold. With a plentiful store of gasoline, the heaters were at once started but in a short time Colonel Howell asked Norman to shut off one of them. The pa.s.senger had been a.s.signed the duty of watching the engine gauge and recording it, together with the chronometer record. Norman did not find this necessary but it was a check upon his own observations and a safeguard against errors in noting their progress.

It was too dark for the colonel to feel any sense of apprehension. As there was no wind, the conditions were ideal for an aerial flight, and Norman having once shaped his course, the powerful car sped on its way as if sliding downhill. In time the monotonous whir of the propellers appeared to have its effect upon Colonel Howell, and Norman caught him dozing more than once. He then explained to his pa.s.senger that his observations were no longer necessary and persuaded Colonel Howell to wrap up in his blanket and go to sleep.

When the pa.s.senger aroused himself, about five o'clock, Norman asked him to make some tea and see what Philip had prepared in the way of food. It was his only way of relaxing under the strain and he ate heartily. Later, Colonel Howell again pulled his blankets about him and did not stir until the gray of the winter dawn was in the air. The moon had long since disappeared but the stars were brilliant.

When the land beneath came into view, the oil prospector took his place in front of the port section for his first view of the world from the clouds. Then day came and the east grew red. No settlement was yet in sight, but as the golden sun began to glisten on the snow-weighted trees, Colonel Howell gave an exclamation.

”There's the railroad!” he shouted. ”We're crossing it.”

”Just after eight o'clock,” muttered Norman, as he craned his neck to make out the land beneath. ”We're certainly this side o' the town and we'll take to the tracks.”

With this, he brought the steady airs.h.i.+p about and began to follow the rails, which were now plain enough below. For another quarter of an hour, the monoplane made its way steadily to the south and then a sudden blur broke the landscape in the distance.

”There she is,” remarked Norman, almost casually. ”Don't forget your packages and bundles.”

At nine o'clock Colonel Howell and Norman were eating breakfast at the Royal George Hotel. At half past ten they were leaving the big new Provincial Capitol Building. The colonel had filed his claims and had his papers safely in his pocket. A little later, entering the busy hotel office once more, Norman hastily caught his patron's sleeve. Seated in front of the hotel fireplace, as if gratefully drinking in its warmth, was the worn and emaciated Chandler. By his side was Fosseneuve the half-breed, already far gone in intoxication.

<script>