  Corporal Rand immediately took charge. “Now,” he said, “tell me all about it.” He listened gravely to the story the boys told, while he sat there near the open doorway, through which there poured the hot sun of early afternoon. Bronzed and weather-beaten was the corporal, but hard as nails, a steel spring in action. “Making merry in my absence, eh?” His eyes glinted as he spoke. “Where can I find these men?” “You might find a few of them over at the Mekewai tepee,” replied Dick. “I do not know whether Frazer will be there or not. Toma says that the former factor occupies a cabin somewhere near the Old Mission road.” “I’ll slip over to the tepee,” announced the policeman as calmly as if he spoke of entering the adjoining room. “If Wolf Brennan and McCallum are away with Frazer, I may be able to pick up the other Mekewai boy.” “May I go with you?” asked Dick eagerly. To Dick’s great disappointment, the corporal shook his head. “No, I’ll go alone,” he smiled. “You can stay here and rest on your oars. I think you’ve done enough for one day, Dick, old chap. I may call upon you later. Now if you’ll tell me where I can find this Mekewai tepee, I’ll be ever so much obliged to you.” “Turn down the bank to your right when you get to the boat landing,” instructed Dick. “It’s the fourth tepee.” Corporal Rand rose, yawned and walked over to where Henry Mekewai lay trussed up on the floor. To Dick’s surprise, he spoke to him. “Where’s your brother?” he demanded. The Indian’s ugly, repulsive face twisted into a snarl at the sound of the voice. He did not know it was the policeman that spoke to him. His eyes, averted, gazed at the wall beside him. “Where’s your brother?” persisted the quiet voice. Henri Mekewai turned his head surlily and looked up. He started visibly. In common with other natives of that vast northern territory, he possessed an almost superstitious dread of anyone wearing that flaming red coat. Sudden terror leaped into his eyes. “Where’s your brother?” the corporal asked for the third and last time. “My brother he——” the Indian paused and moistened his dry lips. “Yes, go on.” “My brother in our tepee, I think. I not sure.” “Where are Brennan and McCallum?” “Find ’em in tepee,” answered the Indian like a parrot. “Do they stay with you?” “Yes.” “And where does Frazer stay?” “He stay in cabin two mile from Half Way House. Pretty close to Old Mission trail.” Corporal Rand turned away. “You’d better lock him up in a room somewhere,” he instructed Dick. “Take off these bonds. I may talk to him again later when I come back.” Without further word, the policeman spun on his heel and clanked out, spurs rattling, his body very straight and trim and pleasing to the eye. He was absent just twenty minutes, by Dick’s watch. When he returned, two figures preceded him—Wolf Brennan and Toby McCallum, a somewhat worried looking pair. They came shame-facedly into the room, slinking like two whipped curs. Gone was their blustering courage and cocksureness. Rand motioned them over to one side of the room a little disdainfully. “Don’t try to move,” he ordered, “if you know what’s good for you. Mr. Scott, is the other prisoner locked up?” “Yes, Corporal.” “Do you think you can find a place for these two men?” “In the office. The windows are barred.” The policeman beckoned to the two prisoners, then strode forward and opened the door. “Get in there,” he commanded. Wolf Brennan and his partner lost no time in doing as they were told. The door was locked behind them. “Now, Dick.” “Yes, Corporal Rand,” Dick stepped forward. “I’ll want you and Sandy to accompany me. We’ll get an early supper and leave here around seven o’clock. I think I know where Frazer’s cabin is. I propose to swing completely around it and come in from the opposite side. That will mean about six miles of steady tramping.” “Why not go straight there?” asked Sandy. “Because they may be on the lookout for us. They may be watching the road leading from the post. I want to surprise them.” The corporal sat down in a chair while the three boys crowded around him. “We’re all mighty glad you got back,” Sandy broke forth eagerly. “You certainly came at an opportune time. How did you manage to get here so quickly?” “Because I didn’t go as far as I expected to,” Rand smiled. “It’s rather a long story, Sandy, and I don’t intend to burden you with it now. My destination, as you may remember, was Caribou Lake. However, I got no further than the lower waters of the Half Way River. I was drifting along one day, half asleep, when I saw a canoe approaching. The occupant of the little craft proved to be Jim Maynard, an old friend of mine. Jim is a trapper and prospector and has been working all winter up in the region of Caribou Lake. When I told him I was going up to Miller’s cabin, he seemed surprised. ‘You won’t find him there,’ he told me. He explained to me that he had visited at Miller’s cabin just two days before the latter left by dog team for the south. I asked if Miller had told him his destination. He replied that he had, Miller, it appeared, was going out to Fort Laird.” “But he never got there,” Sandy interrupted. “No, he never got there. Something happened to him en route. He might have lost his way in a storm and both he and his dogs perished.” “So the mystery is still a mystery.” The policeman nodded. “Time probably will solve it. Some day, I expect, a lone traveller wandering through the vast wilderness space south of Caribou Lake will run across his bleached skeleton. The north has many secrets,” he went on, half to himself, “many of which will never be solved.” “I wish we could solve this mystery that surrounds Frazer,” put in Dick. “He had a good deal of gold hidden here, corporal. First we discover the place where he had it concealed in the basement, now we find the secret compartment in the little room. Of course, it is stolen gold. But from whom did he steal it?” “Gold in the basement!” the policeman stared at Dick. “You didn’t mention that. So he had it there too?” Dick nodded. “Very cleverly concealed just like it was in the office. Only in the cellar, instead of having a secret niche in the wall, he took up a portion of the plank flooring, dug a pit and hid it in there in burlap sacks.” “Burlap sacks!” Rand looked incredulous. “That is very unusual. How do you know he had it in burlap sacks?” “Because I saw them,” and Dick narrated the incidents of the night the Mekewai brothers broke into the trading room and descended to the cellar. “You are really sure that they carried this gold in burlap sacks?” “Yes, Corporal.” “And you say the sacks were nearly full?” “Why, yes,” Dick looked puzzled, wondering what the policeman was driving at. “But how do you know it was gold they carried in those burlap sacks?” “We didn’t, of course. We merely surmised that. It was something very valuable or they wouldn’t have been so anxious to get it.” “I grant you that. But did you ever stop to consider how much a sack of gold, one of the heaviest metals, would weigh? And didn’t it ever occur to you that if a man had gold enough to fill a burlap sack, he’d be wealthy enough to afford a container a little more durable and dependable than burlap?” “Why, I never thought of that,” Dick scratched his head. “The inference is, that it wasn’t gold. Only a fool would put so precious a metal in burlap sacks.” “Yes, that seems reasonable,” Dick smiled sheepishly. “But if it wasn’t gold, what was it?” Corporal Rand laughed heartily. “Now, my boy, you’re asking me a very difficult question. If we can find what they did with those sacks, I might be able to tell you.” “I know what they did with those sacks,” Dick informed him. “Very well, please tell me.” “They buried them.” “Why are you so sure?” “We overheard one of the Mekewai boys tell Wolf Brennan and Toby McCallum that they had buried the sacks in a safe place.” “In a safe place,” mused the policeman aloud. “Yes,” Sandy corroborated his chum, “those were the very words he used.” Corporal Rand sat for a moment immersed in thought. Then suddenly he started to his feet. “I think I’ll go in and have a talk with Henri Mekewai,” he said. |
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