  Though Sandy and Dick were anxious to find out what had happened to Toma, they did not ask him a question until his head had been bandaged, food had been given him, and he had been made comfortable in a bed upstairs. “Now tell us all about it if you feel strong enough, Toma,” said Dick, as he, Sandy and the factor bent over him. “I tell you pretty quick,” the young Indian smiled up at them weakly. “Not very much I remember what happen. Last night I take ’em my rifle an’ walk away through the woods. Think mebbe I shoot partridge or two. By an’ by, I come to old mission trail, ’bout two miles from here. It very hot in the woods an’ I sit down on a log to rest. I sit there mebbe ten, mebbe twenty minutes. All at once I hear ’em sound like partridge make try fly through the brush. I look ’round when something hit me on the head, knock me off the log. Everything turn black. Not remember nothing after that. Stay there all night just like a dead man. When I wake up, sun shining. Feel sick, dizzy, when I try sit up. Want drink of water very bad. Tongue all swell so big that it hurt me if I close my mouth.” “Ugh!” shuddered the factor. “Imagine that sort of agony out there all alone.” “And he isn’t telling half of it.” As he spoke Sandy bent forward and brushed back a wisp of black hair that had fallen over the patient’s bandaged head. “Then what did you do?” asked Dick. “Well,” continued Toma, “I want water very much. I think ’em me ’bout little creek I cross night before. Long way off that creek. Part time I walk hold on trees, other time I crawl. I get tired an’ think no use. Too weak to get there. But after I lay still little while, I feel better. Then I go on some more. After very long time I come to creek. I very glad then. I crawl right over an’ lay down in water. I drink not too much at first, then after while some more. I began feel better. I stay mebbe one hour at the little creek then I come on here.” “And that’s all you can tell?” gasped the factor. “Yes, I say everything I know.” “Did you see the man that struck you on the head?” “No see ’em,” answered the young Indian. “Where did you leave your gun?” “Somebody take gun. Take money too. Everything gone when I wake up.” “This isn’t a bullet wound on your head,” Dick told him. “It was made by some sharp instrument.” “Knife,” guessed Toma. “Place where I thought I hear partridge only little way behind me—not more than fifteen feet. What I think happen, man creep up that far an’ throw ’em knife.” “You’re probably right,” said Dick. “An Indian, not a white man attacked you. As a general thing a white man doesn’t know much about knife throwing. No doubt, it was one of the Mekewai brothers.” Toma nodded his head slightly, lying there on the pillow. “I think mebbe Mekewai too.” “What induced you to go hunting at that hour?” inquired Sandy reproachfully. “Was that your real reason for going off alone?” The Indian flushed. “That only one reason,” he admitted. “What were some of the others?” Dick smiled. Toma hesitated, looking at the factor. Mr. Scott interpreted that look. “If you like, I’ll withdraw,” he announced cheerily. “No, Mr. Scott, stay right where you are. You might as well hear the rest of the story. Toma, you can trust Mr. Scott implicitly. Now what was another reason?” “I know,” interrupted Sandy eagerly. “He was out trying to find the place where the Mekewai brothers hid those sacks. Come now, confess. Isn’t that what you were doing?” To the surprise of everyone, Toma shook his head. “No,” he said emphatically; “I not go look that time. One other time I go look everywhere an’ try find. But last night I have something else make me go. I think mebbe I find the factor.” “Who, me?” almost shrieked Scott. “No, Mr. Frazer, the factor Sandy’s uncle send away.” Scott laughed uproariously. “Good gracious, my boy! What a queer fancy. Frazer! Why he’s miles away.” There was one thing Toma did not like and that was to be ridiculed. His eyes darkened angrily. A slow flush mounted to his cheeks. He appealed to his two friends. “Dick, Sandy—I tell you that not so crazy like you think. Factor Frazer come here two nights ago.” “I can’t believe it——” began Dick. “Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” cried Sandy excitedly. “Toma wouldn’t make that statement if he didn’t have a good reason for doing so. Hold on there, you two fellows! Not so fast! Give him time to explain. Toma, if they won’t believe you, I will. What makes you so sure Donald Frazer was here two nights ago?” “Old Indian he tell ’em me he see Frazer go past his tepee with Wolf Brennan an’ Toby McCallum. Him very good Indian an’ I don’t think he tell lie. Him Indian fellow that live next to last tepee south of the boat landing. I talk with him yesterday when he tell me that. He say nearly everybody know now Frazer stay in little cabin not far away in the woods—some place near mission trail. That’s why I go that way.” “Donald Frazer’s presence here can mean only one thing,” decided the factor. “He is planning revenge for being dismissed from the service. By nature a revengeful man, he’ll retaliate in every way that he can. We must be ready for him.” “What do you think he’ll do? Personally, I can’t see that he can accomplish much—one man against as powerful a company as the Hudson’s Bay.” As Sandy spoke, he reached for a chair, which he pulled toward the factor. “Sit down, Mr. Scott. And please tell us what you think Frazer will do. Seems to me he’s wasting time.” The factor thanked Sandy and slipped into the chair. For a moment the room was quiet. Toma put out his hand weakly and tugged at the blankets that had been tucked in around him. It was still uncomfortably warm upstairs, almost as hot as it had been on the day before when Dick had been fired upon. Mr. Scott cleared his throat. “Every factor has his following,” he commenced. “Frazer has been here eight years and has made many friends, of course. These friends will sympathize with him now that he has lost his position and will be ready to believe that he has been treated unjustly. It will divert trade to independent companies. He may be able to influence many of our best customers against us. Not only that, if he has no scruples about employing more criminal methods—and I don’t think he has—he can tamper with incoming shipments of merchandise and outgoing shipments of fur. He can do incalculable damage in so many different ways that I can’t begin to enumerate or even think of all of them.” “We must be on our guard incessantly,” Dick advised. “Even if we are, I doubt if we’ll be able to stop him. The only sure way would be to have the police come over and take him into custody. When Corporal Rand gets back from his patrol, I’ll lay the matter before him.” “I’m afraid it will be weeks before Corporal Rand returns,” said Dick, shaking his head. “That’s unfortunate.” “Yes, it is,” agreed the young man. “Sandy and I will do all we can, but I guess we’ll have more than our hands full fighting that crowd.” “And they won’t fight fair,” lamented Sandy. “Cowardly tactics, unscrupulous methods—snakes in the grass all of them. Yesterday they almost killed Dick, and now they have wounded Toma. They won’t stop at anything. With all deference to your opinion, Mr. Scott, I do not believe that revenge is Frazer’s only motive. There is some other reason; something less devious, more deep and mysterious. Dick, we might as well tell Mr. Scott about that pit in the cellar.” “What’s that!” the factor bounded from his chair. Dick’s face changed color. He had not expected that Sandy would blurt out about that discovery. “I should have told you,” he apologized. “I——” “A pit in the cellar!” Scott gasped. “I don’t understand.” “Under the floor,” explained Dick. “The planking is loose. A hole—quite a large hole there. Frazer evidently knew about it; probably had it dug. Those burlap sacks the Mekewai brothers brought up that night must have come from that hole; been hidden there.” The factor mumbled incoherently, staring at the two young men opposite. He sank into his chair again, brought out a handkerchief and mopped his perspiring face. “A pit, you say? Under the floor! Well, good gracious! How——” “That isn’t all. You might as well hear the rest of it,” Dick interrupted, glaring at Sandy. “We have pretty good reasons to suspect that Frazer hired the Mekewai brothers to get those sacks. Frazer’s loot, we believe. Probably gold. Two other persons know all about the sacks, too—Wolf Brennan and Toby McCallum.” “A conspiracy!” exploded the factor. “What else have you found out?” “Nothing, except that we know the Mekewai brothers buried the loot somewhere.” In great agitation, the factor filled and lit his pipe. He puffed for a moment in silence. “I can begin to see where I’ve been duped, too,” he told them. “What you’ve just divulged helps to throw light on some of Frazer’s former actions. For one thing, it was never quite clear to me why he kept sending me away on such trivial errands. Twice during the month preceding his discharge, I was despatched to outlying districts ostensibly to drum up trade among the Indians. It seemed foolish to me at the time, but I had no choice in the matter. It didn’t make a bit of difference how busy we were, he’d always find some pretext to send me away.” “Exactly! He worked the same scheme on us,” Sandy cut in. “Say! What’s the matter with you, Toma?” The injured boy raised his hand, commanding silence. “Listen,” he said. “I think I hear somebody come up the stairs.” |
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