Part 28 (2/2)

The thing was strange and sinister, but Jimmy trusted Stannard. Deering did not. He was intrigued, and felt he ought to see Jimmy out.

After a time a police trooper came from the vestibule and stopped for a moment at the door of the smoking compartment. His glance rested carelessly on Deering, and then he went through into the car. At the next station the policeman got down and went to the office. When the train started Deering did not see him get on board, but people moved about and the end cars were behind the water tank.

In the afternoon, when he leaned back, half asleep, in his corner, the trooper came in again. Deering did not move, but his eyes were not altogether shut and he saw the fellow's glance was keen and fixed. In a moment or two the trooper turned his head, and going into the vestibule, did not shut the door quietly. Deering's curiosity was satisfied; the police knew he was on board.

Lighting his pipe, he looked out of the window. The train was speeding down the lower Fraser valley. Orchards, fields with white snake-fences, and wooden homesteads rolled by. The sun was near the hilltops and the shadows of the pines were long. When they reached Vancouver it would be dark and the trooper's duties would be undertaken by the munic.i.p.al police. The Royal North-West had nothing to do with the British-Columbian cities; their business was in the wilds.

Deering pulled out his watch. A short distance from Vancouver they would stop at a junction where a line for Was.h.i.+ngton State branched off, but his business was not in Was.h.i.+ngton.

Fast steamers sailed from Vancouver for the ports on Puget Sound, and since the police would expect him to go on board, he thought he saw a plan. Some time after dark he went to the platform in front of the car.

A half-moon shone between slow-moving clouds and he saw vague hills and sparkling water. Then the lights of anch.o.r.ed steamers began to twinkle and sawmill chimney stacks cut the sky. Lights in rows and cl.u.s.ters marked the front of a low hill, the cars rolled along the waterside, and presently stacks of lumber blocked the view. Then the whistle screamed, the brakes jarred, and the pa.s.sengers began to push out from the vestibule.

Deering jumped down and looked about. Freight cars occupied the tracks and the dazzling beam from a locomotive's headlamp touched piles of goods and hurrying people. Round the tall electric standards were pools of light, but smoke and steam blew about the wharf and where the strong illumination was cut off all was dark. Bells tolled, wheels rattled, and the clang of the steamer's winches pierced the din. Her double row of pa.s.senger decks towered above the wharf, and Deering joined the crowd at the slanted gangway. He was willing for the city police to see him board the steamer.

At the top of the gangway a steward indicated the way to the second-cla.s.s deck, but Deering pushed by and went to the saloon. Since he was playing a bush rancher's part, the police would expect him to travel second cla.s.s, and he must for a few minutes put them off his track. As soon as the luggage was on board, the boat would start.

For the most part, the people were on deck, and the s.p.a.cious saloon was quiet. Deering thought he did not look like a first-cla.s.s pa.s.senger. His hair was long, his hat was battered, and Jardine's rather ragged clothes were tight on his big body. Searching the room with a keen glance, he stopped, for a group of three people occupied a seat at the other end. He wondered whether he ought to steal off, but Dillon jumped up.

”Why, it's Deering!” he exclaimed.

Laura started and her companion turned. Deering imagined the lady was Mrs. Dillon and he crossed the floor. Dillon's surprise was obvious, but he gave Deering his hand.

”We have been bothered about you for some time and it looks as if you had got up against it. But where's Jimmy?”

”Jimmy's at the shack we built in the rocks. What about the warden?”

”We can get no news. I imagine the police are hiding the fellow.”

”Why did you leave Jimmy?” Laura interrupted, and Deering saw she did not altogether trust him. ”Has he food and proper clothes? If he is in trouble, we must try to help.”

”That is so,” said Dillon. ”If Jimmy wants me, I'll get off the boat.”

”Jimmy's clothes are worse than mine, but he doesn't particularly want your help. I pulled out because I must transact some business, and I've pretty good grounds to imagine the police are on my track.”

”I expect we'll sail in a few minutes,” said Dillon. ”Do you think the police know you got on board?”

Deering glanced at the others. He thought Laura imagined he had meant to join them and she was not yet satisfied. Mrs. Dillon was frankly annoyed.

”So long as they don't know I got off again, it's not important,” he replied.

”Are you going to get off?”

”Certainly,” said Deering and turned to Laura with a twinkle. ”The trick is not remarkably fresh, but since the police reckon I'm bound for the United States, it ought to work. You see, Jimmy's my friend, and when I've put across my business I'm going back.”

Laura gave him her hand. ”I didn't know--I wish you luck! When you think we can help, you must send us a letter.”

The whistle blew, a bell rang, and people began to enter the saloon.

”Thank you, Miss Stannard,” said Deering and crossed the floor.

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