Part 43 (1/2)

THE OBVIOUS THING

The stars were paling overhead, and the snow that cut against the sky was growing white again; but it was very cold among the pines where Leger was busy about the crackling fire. A column of smoke rose slowly straight up into the nipping air, and the blaze flickered redly upon the cl.u.s.tering trunks, while the sound of an unfrozen rapid broke faintly through the snapping of the fire. Leger, who felt his fingers stiffening, took up his axe, and the rhythmic thudding rang sharply in the stillness of the woods when Hetty appeared in the door of the shanty, shadowy and shapeless in the coa.r.s.e blanket she had thrown about her shoulders. She s.h.i.+vered a little as she looked around her.

”It has been a bitter night--the cold woke me when the fire got low,”

she said. ”Tomlinson must have felt it horribly. I wonder where he's getting his breakfast? You shouldn't have let him go.”

Leger laughed and leaned upon his axe. ”I couldn't have stopped him, and I don't think you need worry. The cold is scarcely likely to hurt him--he's used to it. He is probably three or four leagues away down the trail by now.”

”That isn't very far.”

”It's tolerably good travelling in this country. Besides, n.o.body except Sewell and Ingleby has the faintest notion that he was here.”

Hetty appeared reflective. ”I wasn't quite sure about the corporal that night. He's too quiet and has eyes all over him. Still, I suppose Tomlinson has got away--of course, he must have done so. His running away would look very bad if they did get hold of him. Isn't that kettle boiling, Tom?”

Leger stooped above the fire, and then, straightening himself, suddenly stood still listening. He could hear the sound of the rapid, and nothing else for a moment or two, until a crackle of undergrowth came out of the gloom below. Then there was a tramp of footsteps coming up the trail, and Hetty turned to him sharply.

”Tom,” she said, with a little gasp, ”who can it be?”

Leger laid down the kettle he held in his hand. ”The troopers, I'm afraid,” he said.

The light was growing clearer, and they could see each other's faces.

Hetty's was flushed and apprehensive, Leger's portentously quiet.

”They've come for Tomlinson,” she said. ”Tom, do you know why he threw Probyn in the creek?”

”I fancy I could guess. Tomlinson, however, never mentioned it.”

”He wouldn't,” and Hetty gasped again. ”Tom, I'll never forgive you if you let the troopers know anything about him.”

”I really don't think that was necessary,” said Leger, with a faint, dry smile.

Hetty clenched one hand tight. ”Oh,” she said, ”can't we run away?”

Leger turned and pointed to a shadowy figure that materialized out of the gloom among the trees below. There were others behind it, and the two stood still watching them as they came quickly up the trail. Then they stopped at a sharp word, and a man in a big fur-coat stepped forward. Hetty had no difficulty in recognizing him as Esmond.

”Are you willing to tell me where Prospector Tomlinson is? It would be the wisest thing,” he said.

”I don't think that is quite the point,” answered Leger quietly. ”You see, I don't know.”

”Then I'll ask you where he went when he left here last night?”

”You fancy he was here?”

Esmond made a little sign of impatience. ”I should like to warn you that a good deal depends upon the way you answer me. You probably know that the person who hides a murderer or connives at his escape is liable to be tried as an accessory.”

Leger stood silent a moment or two. It seemed rather more than probable that Esmond had only supposed it likely that Tomlinson had visited the bakery; but that did not greatly matter after all. His course was clear, and that was to allow the officer to believe as long as possible that Tomlinson was in the vicinity. Every minute gained would be worth a good deal to the fugitive.

”I scarcely think I need worry myself about that,” he said. ”You see, before you could charge me as an accessory you would have to prove that Tomlinson really killed Probyn. It's tolerably clear that you can't have a trial without a prisoner, and I don't mind admitting that Tomlinson isn't here.”