I
On the day that Louis Hammond left the Nannabijou Limits for Kam City, Acey Smith and one other were astir long before the young newspaper man had opened an eye in his comfortable bunk. Acey Smith, as was his usual custom, shaved before the large mirror opposite the eastern window of his bedroom, his thoughts busy with a problem that had been agitating him since his visit to Amethyst Island the day before.
It was while completing the last few deft touches to his toilet that the Big Boss of the Nannabijou Limits caught momentarily a reflection in the glass of a face and figure moving past the window back of him.
As if the fleeting reflection in the glass had brought him an inspiration, he paused in wiping the talc powder from his chin. Then he smote the little table below with a clenched fist such a blow that the articles thereon went tottering.
He whirled and turned his attention to a packsack into which he hastily stowed a number of wrapped packages, strapped the flap of the pack and slipped his arms through the shoulder pieces. He took a swift survey of surroundings from the windows, then stepping outside sauntered down to the bell tent on the water-front occupied by Inspector Little of the Mounted Police.
He was with the inspector perhaps twenty minutes, when he accompanied the latter to the dining camp. They had breakfast and returned to the dock, whence the superintendent soon shot out in his red racing boat which tore its way out of sight on the rolling expanse of Superior.