XXX
RUN DOWN
Foster did not know what Lawrence told Lucy, because he was occupiedfor some time in his room. His lip was cut, his face was bruised, andthere was a lump on his head where he had struck the steps. After hehad attended to the injuries and frowned at his reflection in theglass, he rang the bell, and asking for some paper took out hisfountain pen. It was not easy to write, but there was something to bedone that had better not be put off. He knew now what the gang wascapable of, and meant to leave a record, in case an accident of thekind to which his comrade had nearly fallen a victim happened to him.Moreover, it might be a safeguard to let his antagonists know that theycould not destroy his evidence if they took his life.
He related his adventures in Scotland, his pursuit of Daly, and hissurmises about the gang, and then going down, asked the hotel clerk towitness his signature and put the document in the safe. After this, hewent to the veranda, where Lucy came to meet him with shining eyes.
"Jake," she said with emotion, "I felt we would be safe as soon as youarrived. If you knew how I listened for the train and longed for yourstep! But the wretch has hurt you; your face is bruised and cut."Foster felt embarrassed, but laughed. "My face will soon recover itsusual charm, and if it's any comfort, the other fellow looks, and nodoubt feels, much worse." Then he turned to Lawrence, who sat near."You have evidently been telling Miss Stephen a highly-colored tale."
"Lucy!" she corrected him. "I'm not going to call you Mr. Foster.You're our friend--mother's and mine---as well as Lawrence's." Shestopped and shuddered. "But you shall not make a joke of what you did!What might have happened won't bear thinking of. If you hadn't come intime!"
Foster, seeing her emotion, glanced at Mrs. Stephen, begging her tointerfere, but her strained look indicated that her feelings harmonizedwith the girl's. Then Lawrence interposed with a grin--
"Jake always does come in time--that's one of his virtues. He's thekind of man who's there when he's wanted. I don't know how he does it,because he's not really clever."
"Lawrence," said Lucy severely, "sometimes you're not as humorous asyou think."
"Then I hope I'm tactful, because you're making poor Jake feel horriblyawkward. I believe he thought you wanted to kiss him and was verynearly running away."
Lucy blushed and Lawrence resumed: "He can't deny it; Jake, you knowyou would have run away! However, I knew what I was doing when I madehim my partner some time ago. Jake has a romantic imagination that nowand then leads him into trouble, but although it's perhaps as much luckas genius, when he undertakes a thing he puts it over. For example,there was the sawmill----"
Lucy stopped him with a gesture. "We are not going to talk about thesawmill. It was your--I mean our--troubles Jake plunged into, andpluck that can't be daunted is better than genius. But you're anEnglish Borderer and therefore half a Scot; you hate to let peopleguess your feelings."
"Jake kens," said Lawrence, smiling. "Before very long you'll be aBorderer, too."
Lucy's eyes were very soft as she turned to Foster. "Then I must adopttheir customs. I think they have a motto, 'Dinna' forget.'"
To Foster's relief, the hotel manager came in and looked at the twoladies hesitatingly. Neither took the hint and Lucy said, rathersharply, "Well?"
"Mr. Walters has come round and demands to be let out of his room.Your man's there, Mr. Foster, and won't let him move."
"Pete's splendid!" said Lucy. "I haven't thanked him yet. Perhaps youhad better go, Lawrence, but take Jake."
Foster beckoned the manager and when they were outside asked: "When doyou expect the police?"
"Some time to-morrow."
"Then we must watch the fellow closely until they come."
They stopped at a room on the second floor, and the manager frownedwhen he turned the handle of the door, which would not open.
"Wha's there the noo?" a sharp voice demanded.
Foster laughed as he answered, the door was opened, and they sawWalters, who looked much the worse for the struggle, lying on a couch,while Pete stood grimly on guard. Walters glanced at Foster.
"You're something of a surprise," he said. "We didn't expect much fromyou."
"That's a mistake other people have made and regretted," Lawrenceremarked.
"Well," said Walters, "I demand to be let out."
Foster shook his head. "I think not. The room is comfortable, and youwon't be here long."
"What are you going to do with me?"
"Hand you to the police."
"On what ground?"
"Attempted murder, to begin with," said Foster dryly.
Walters turned to the manager. "A man can't be arrested without awarrant. I guess you understand you're making trouble for yourself bypermitting these fellows to lock me in."
"I don't know if it's quite legal or not," Foster admitted, addressingthe manager, who looked irresolute. "Anyhow, you're not responsible,because we're going to take the matter out of your hands. Besides, youhaven't much of a staff just now and couldn't interfere."
"In a way, that's so," the manager doubtfully agreed. "I don't want adisturbance in my hotel; I've had enough."
"Very well," said Walters, seeing he could expect no help from him."But I'm not going to have this wooden-faced Scotchman in my room. Thefool won't let me move. If you don't take him away, I'll break thefurniture. I can do that, although I'm not able to throw the big bruteout."
Foster walked to the window, which he opened. It was some distancefrom the ground and there was nothing that would be a help in climbingdown. Besides, Walters did not look capable of trying to escape.
"We'll take him away," he said, and beckoning Pete and the manager,went out. He locked the door on the other side and resumed: "Send up acomfortable chair, a blanket, and a packet of tobacco. If there's anytrouble, you can state that you acted on compulsion and we'll supportyou, but I rather think you can seize and hold a criminal when youcatch him in the act. Stop here until I relieve you, Pete."
Pete nodded and the others went to the dining-room. After dinner,Foster took his turn on watch, but by and by Pete reappeared, holdingthe page by the arm. He signed to Foster, who went down the passage tomeet him.
"I thought I'd maybe better tak' a look roon the back o' the hoose andfound the laddie aneath the window. He had a bit paper in his hand."
Foster told him to watch Walters' door, and frowned at the lad.
"I reckon you'd sooner keep out of jail."
"Sure," said the lad, with an effort at carelessness; "I'm not going toget in."
"Well," said Foster grimly, "you're taking steep chances just now. Thepolice will be here to-morrow and there'll be trouble if they know youtried to help their prisoner escape. Where's the telegram he threw youdown?"
"It wasn't a telegram."
"A letter's just as bad. The wisest thing you can do is to give it me."
The lad hesitated, but let him have the crumpled envelope. "I was togive it one of the train hands when the next freight stops for water."
Foster opened the envelope, which was addressed to Telford at themining town. The letter was written guardedly, but after studying itwith knitted brows he thought he understood its purport.
"How much were you to get for sending this?" he asked.
"Mr. Walters threw me three dollars. I allow I'd have to givesomething to the brakesman."
"After all, I don't see why you shouldn't deliver the thing," Fostersaid thoughtfully. "That means you can keep the money, but as thebrakesman's not allowed to carry letters, he'll probably want a dollar.Wait until I get a new envelope."
The boy went off, looking relieved, and Foster returned to his chair atWalters' door. On the whole, he thought he would hear something of thegang on the morrow, and if his suspicions were correct, looked forwardto an interesting meeting. Telford had been asked for help, which hewould try to send. The west-bound freight had not passed yet, and ifit came soon, should reach the mining
town early in the morning.Foster lighted his pipe, wrapped the blanket round his legs, and openeda book he had brought.
Next day two policemen arrived in a light wagon and took Walters away.Lawrence was compelled to go with them, and although but littledisturbance was made, Foster imagined all the occupants of the hotelknew about the matter. He had ground for regretting this, and kept aclose watch on the page whose duties were light just then, whichenabled him to wander about the building and see what was going on. Heexpected to hear something when the train from the coast arrived, buttook care to be about when the express from Montreal was due. He had asuspicion that Daly had gone up the line.
The west-bound train came first, and Foster, who had sent Pete to thestation, sat in the veranda, where he could see anybody who entered thehotel. The train stopped and went on again, but nobody came up theroad, and after a time Pete returned. Three passengers had got down,but they looked like bush ranchers and had taken the trail to asettlement some distance off. Pete, however, did not know Daly, andFoster was not satisfied. He thought the fellow might have bought acheap skin coat such as the bush ranchers wore. Going out, he walkedthrough the wood that grew close up to the back of the building. Afterall, Daly might try to find out something from one of the servantsbefore coming to the front entrance.
The sun had sunk behind the range and the light was dim among thepines. The air was keen and a bitter wind that came down the valley ingusts rustled the masses of heavy needles, while the roar of the riverthrobbed among the stately trunks. This was in Foster's favor, becausehe had to make his way between fallen branches and through thickundergrowth, and wanted to do so without being heard. He was a goodhunter and bushman, and did not think there was much risk of his beingseen.
For a time he heard nothing suspicious and began to feel keendisappointment. He had hoped that Walters' message would bring Daly tohis rescue, but it looked as if it had not done so. Then, as he stoodnearly breast-high among dry brush and withered fern, he heard a faintnoise. Not far off, a narrow trail led through the trees to the backof the hotel. Standing quite still, he searched the wood with narrowedeyes.
It was shadowy all around him, but where the trees grew farther aparttheir tall straight trunks cut against the glimmer of the snow. Thenoise had stopped, but he could see anybody who crossed the nearestopening, and waited, tense and highly-strung. Then he heard stepscoming from the hotel, and an indistinct object emerged from the gloom.It was a man, taking some care to move quietly. When he got nearer,Foster, knowing there was dark brush behind him, thrust his arm intothe fern and made it rustle as a gust of wind swept the wood.
The man, who wore an old skin coat, stopped and looked round, andFoster saw his face. It was Daly, and he seemed uncertain if the windhad made the noise or not. After standing motionless for a fewmoments, he took out his watch, and then moved on again as softly as hecould.
The meaning of this was plain. Daly had learned that Walters had beentaken away by the police and had concluded that Lawrence meant tofight. As it was too late to interfere, he meant to make his escape.Foster resolved to prevent this if he could, but Daly had the advantageof an open trail, while he was entangled in the brush. He crept outand pushed through the wood as fast and silently as possible, but whenlooking for a way round a thicket caught his foot and fell among somerotten branches with a crash. He got up, growling at the accident, forthere was no use in following the other after this, although he did notfeel beaten yet. Daly no doubt hoped to get away by the Montrealexpress, but would hide in the bush until the last moment.
Foster went back to the hotel for Pete, and leaving a note forLawrence, dressed for a journey and took the road to the station. Onreaching a bend, however, he plunged into the wood and made his way tothe line, beside which he and Pete crept in the gloom of the trees, andonly came into the open for a few yards near the agent's shack. Herethey sat down behind a big water tank and Foster felt satisfied. Ifthey had reached the station without being noticed, they would findDaly when he got on board the train, and if he had seen them, they hadcut off his best chance of escape.
It was nearly dark and very cold, but Foster was glad the train waslate. By and by he got up and lighted his pipe, though he was carefulhow he held the match. If Daly was hiding near, he did not want thefellow to see his face, but the latter would not expect anybody whomight be on his track to smoke. Strolling carelessly round to thefront of the shack, Foster opened the door and asked the agent: "Areyou going to stop the east-bound?"
"I am," said the other. "Got a wire to hold her up."
"Ah," said Foster. "I expect we can get tickets on board, but if youdon't mind, we'll wait in here. It's freezing pretty fierce."
He imagined that Telford or another of the gang had sent the telegram,and sat down when Pete came in. He heard the wind among the pines andthe humming of the telegraph wires, but for a time this was all. Thena faint throbbing came up the valley and got louder until he coulddistinguish the snorting of a locomotive.
The snorting stopped, a bell began to toll, and with lights flashingthe cars rolled past the shack. Foster waited a moment or two,standing at the window, and then as the conductor called "All aboard"saw a man run along the line and jump on to the step of the end car.Then, beckoning Pete, he dashed out and got on board as the train beganto move.
It was with a thrill of triumph he sat down in a corner as the carsgathered speed. They would not stop for some time and the game was inhis hands at last. The long chase was ended; he had run Daly down.