Part 4 (2/2)
As he lighted the cigarette Silk glanced down at Adolf's feet. They were clad in very much worn moccasins. Already he had decided that Adolf Simon was not the criminal of whom he was in search. Nevertheless, he put his judgment to the proof. Watching the half-breed's face, he casually asked--
”Say, Adolf, have you seen anything of your friend Henri Jolicoeur, lately?”
Adolf's countenance betrayed no agitation at this abrupt mention of a name which would certainly have disturbed his conscience had he been guilty.
”Henri Jolicoeur?” he repeated, pausing in rolling another cigarette. ”He is no friend of mine. I tink you mek meestek, Sergeant. Once--long tam since--we was _bons camarades_, but since two, tree month we 'ave nevaire speak. We 'ave not meet. Dere is no occasion, you un'erstand.”
”In that case,” returned the soldier policeman, ”it is needless for me to ask you anything about him. I shall probably get all the information I require from Pierre Roche. Pierre is on the ranch here, isn't he.”
Adolf sent a very long, slow jet of tobacco smoke into the air and watched it fade.
”Not since four day,” he responded, meeting Silk's keen scrutiny. ”He 'ave mek heemself absent on private affair.”
Presently, when Silk went out of the bunkhouse, Adolf followed him at a distance and overtook him as he came within sight of the lighted windows of the homestead.
”Pardon, Sergeant,” he began mysteriously. ”Why you come here, nosing round? I tink you come for de special police duty, eh? Is not dat so?”
”It is possible,” admitted Silk. ”But is there anything wonderful in that? Why are you anxious about my being here--on special police duty?”
Adolf shrugged his shoulders.
”You spek of Henri Jolicoeur, of Pierre Roche,” he went on. ”You savee dey was enemy, hating each oder lak de poison--what? You 'ave discover som'ting.”
Sergeant Silk stood facing the half-breed looking into his dark, alert eyes, wondering if he were to be trusted.
”Why, cert'nly,” he nodded. ”I have discovered something. I have discovered the dead body of Henri Jolicoeur in Grey Wolf Forest.”
”So?” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Adolf, with less surprise than might have been expected. ”_Tiens! tiens!_ And you 'ave come for try mek de arrest of Pierre Roche? Dat is ver' queek, certainly. You 'ave lose no tam. But dere is no use you come 'ere. He no come back to Pincher's Creek. It ees de las' place he come to.”
”You appear to have no doubt of his guilt, anyway, Adolf,” observed Silk.
”But what would you?” rejoined the half-breed. ”Was it not hees intention? Many tam I hear heem say he will tek de life of Henri Jolicoeur. Yes, many tam. And now he 'ave tek it! Well, M'sieu', it will be ver' interesting suppose you catch heem. You are clever tracker, Sergeant Silk. You catch many criminal. But you no catch Pierre Roche.
It is impossible, absolutely. You nevaire catch heem--nevaire. He 'ave too many friend. He ees too cunning--cunning as de fox.”
”There can be no harm in trying,” Silk smiled. ”Canada is a large country, and there are many places where a hunted criminal may hide successfully--for a while. But Pierre Roche will not escape.”
”We shall see,” laughed Adolf, turning on his heel.
CHAPTER IV
THE FUGITIVE AND HIS PURSUER
Sergeant Silk had at least the satisfaction that he had now discovered the ident.i.ty of the man who had taken the life of Henri Jolicoeur, and that same night, without resting, he hastened to the nearest police depot to telegraph his report to head-quarters at Regina. He waited for a reply, which came in the early morning, intimating that Pierre Roche must be captured, dead or alive. The whole Force would see to it that he was caught and brought to justice.
Roche had long been suspected as a persistent law breaker, but he had never yet been convicted. More than half an Indian, he had all the Redskin's cunning in covering his traces and evading detection; but now the evidence against him was more than a mere suspicion.
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