Chapter III

Men of all nationalities, and of all professions, honesty of purpose their only common bond, made the Superintendent's quarters at Discovery their nightly rendezvous. The Superintendent's great personality drew them. Coming to his office for assistance or advice—as they did, in dozens, during the day—they were glad to accept his invitation to visit him 'off duty.'

At eleven o'clock one night a representative gathering of this kind held crowded converse round his chair. Lancaster, the Lieutenant-Governor, headed the scale. Forshaw, transferred from Broncho with Hector and still his Adjutant, sat on the Lieutenant-Governor's right. Cranbrook, on a flying visit from Nugget, was also present. Inspector Gemmell, a good-looking, curly-headed youngster of two or three years' service, maintained discreet silence in the background. Medicine was typified by Doctor Quick, Commissioner of Public Health for Black Elk Territory. The Rev. Mr. Northcote stood very well for Religion and Mr. Steven Molyneux for Politics, or Statesmanship. There were also in attendance a few nondescripts, good men and true but of no particular account.

The talk, from frivolities, had settled into serious channels.

"More claim-jumping on Lake Miner, I hear, Major," said the Rev. Mr. Northcote.

"Yes, I believe there was an attempt at it," Hector answered. "But the detachment there has handled it satisfactorily."

"There's an ugly crowd up there," asserted Molyneux.

"There are ugly crowds," said the Lieutenant-Governor, "in all parts of Black Elk Territory. Major Adair sentenced forty men today."

"He'll sentence lots more if this trouble goes on," suggested the politician.

"I don't anticipate it," Hector answered.

"You don't!" Molyneux looked moderately surprised. "But—consider it: This claim-jumping at Lake Miner—this unrest on the creeks——"

"Yes," said one of the nondescripts, a German, "der unrest on der creeks! Growls aboud der royalty on der gold ad Bioneer Lake! Intimerdation hof der regorder ad Lucky! Der meeting of brodest at Nugget! D'reats hof violence on Discovery idself! Vat do you make of dat, Major Adair?"

"Nothing to be alarmed at," Hector declared.

"You don't think it's—" the Rev. began.

"The rumblings of a volcano?" Molyneux finished.

"No, I don't," said Hector.

"Phew! I'm glad to hear it," said an American nondescript. "It looks just a little suspicious. But you ought to know."

"Yes, I should," Hector smiled. "And I do."

The talk swung to other matters. But the American nondescript was not really satisfied. Presently he returned to the subject.

"Say, Major—frankly—we're all friends here, and trustworthy—won't you say—unofficially—what you really think? Surely there is trouble of some sort in the wind?"

"I've told you precisely the truth," Hector answered steadily. "I don't believe there's anything to fear. There may be trouble—but we can handle it."

"You can?"

Molyneux, still smiling, asked the question.

"Absolutely."

"You've only d'o hundred men here, Major, and dare are dousands hof tough nuts in der Territory," said the German.

"Never mind." Hector was very sure of himself. "They'll listen to reason, if handled properly. If they won't, there are plenty of stout-hearted, law-abiding citizens here to help us."

"Well said, sir!"

The Rev. most heartily approved.

"Supposing there was trouble, Major," persisted the politician, "in confidence—as our friend said, we're all reliable fellows here—just how would you handle it?"

Again his guests looked intently at the Superintendent. But Molyneux searched Hector's face in vain for the sign he sought.

"I'd appeal to reason first; then, if necessary, to force. In employing force, I'd rely exclusively on my own men. I wouldn't use any other weapon except as a last resort."

"Being confident," said the American, "that you could get along with your two hundred?"

"Being confident—whatever happened," replied Hector, "that I could get along with my two hundred."

"The fool!" thought the politician.

Thinking of Greasy Jones and the plot they were concocting, he hugged himself inside.

One fine midsummer morning there came to the barrack gate a boisterous, turbulent crowd. The sentry called out the guard. The noise penetrated to Hector's sanctum—a most unwonted noise——

"Sergeant-Major"—he motioned to Bland, transferred from Broncho to Black Elk Territory at Hector's request—"find out the meaning of this disturbance, please."

The Sergeant-Major hastened out, visions of riots in his head. When he reached the gate, however, he found that the crowd had good-humouredly fallen back, leaving the person on whom their attention centred to pass through the line of Police undisturbed.

"Well, what was it?"

Without looking up from his writing, Hector flung the question at the Sergeant-Major as that worthy N.C.O. returned.

Bland thanked Heaven for the Superintendent's preoccupation.

"It's—it's—" he began.

"It's Constable Oswald," said an alluring voice, "and he's brought you a prisoner."

Hector looked up to see before him: One, the Rev. Mr. Northcote, on the broad grin, held captive by two, a buck policeman, standing at attention.

"What does this mean?"

Hector's tone was icy.

He never permitted liberties. It seemed that this was one; for Constable Oswald was—a woman, in the complete uniform, scarlet coat and all, of a member of the Force!

"Come along, what's the meaning of this?" demanded Hector again, though the sternness was gone from his voice and there was a twinkle in his eye.

Constable Oswald burst out laughing. Northcote lifted up his voice and bellowed. Bland went into a corner and shook. After that, Hector could contain himself no longer. The office rang with mirth.

"How dare you come in here like this—and play such tricks on me? Northcote, I insist on an explanation," Hector said, as soon as he could get his breath back.

"Major Adair, I'll explain," the lady declared. She was still laughing. "The fact of the matter is—I was in a boat—coming down the Black Elk this morning—when she upset. My valise was lost and—well, the corporal in charge of the nearest post came to the rescue and put the wardrobe of the post at my disposal. Not wishing to elevate myself too highly, I chose a constable's outfit. Honestly, it was all there was! Will you forgive me?"

"It's a misuse of the Queen's uniform, of course, Miss——"

"Oswald——"

"Miss Oswald—but—well, you plead so nicely and the circumstances are extenuating, so we'll let you off this time. And Mr. Northcote must see you properly provided for. By the way, were you the cause of the excitement outside?"

"Yes." Her eyes beamed laughter. "I think a woman constable is a new thing in Discovery."

It was. Nothing like it had been seen in the Territory before, nor was ever seen again. Miss Oswald's entrance, like everything else with which she was connected, was original and exclusive.

"And now—what I really came here for," she went on, quite at home in her strange environment and attire, "was to state my business. I'm a woman reporter and I've come up here for the Montreal Comet to write up the Black Elk country."

"You're plucky. This is a dangerous part of the world."

"Oh, I love excitement and danger." This was obviously true. "Besides, I——"

"Excuse me—but—" some far depth in Hector's memory had been sounded—"didn't you come up to Regina with the Press Association in——?"

"Yes!" cried Nita Oswald delightedly. "I told Mr. Northcote you'd remember me—and my bustle!"

A stout-hearted, unfailing friend, a credit to journalism, this energetic woman was to prove herself.

III

That was a busy and momentous day for Hector. The door had barely closed on Nita Oswald when he found himself in conference with the Lieutenant-Governor.

"Have you heard anything"—Lancaster was very thoughtful—"that would lead you to suspect our administration of—well, graft, Adair?"

"Graft, sir?"

"Yes, graft—and double dealings—and rottenness——"

"Nothing definite."

"Humph! Well, we've got it, just the same. I've positive evidence, unfortunately, that some of the recorders have been accepting bribes. At Pioneer Lake, for instance, the recorder falsified his books to show that a certain party had staked a certain claim before it was taken up by another man. Some technicality or other bore favourable witness to the falsehood. Shortly afterwards, when the rightful owner had been ousted, the recorder became suddenly rich. He was suspected and—well, anyhow, the whole story is now in my hands."

"Bad business!"

"Yes. But it doesn't stop there. I've learned of similar things at Nugget and on Discovery. At present, I don't know a man in the whole Department whom I can absolutely trust."

"What do you propose to do?"

"I can only warn them and watch them. Fire the lot? Where could I replace them? And the new set would be as bad as the old."

"If there's anything I can do, sir——"

"You can do a great deal, Adair. Put your men on the alert for anything suspicious. Help me—and get them to help me—in this fight for clean administration. You can do that."

"I will, sir."

"Good. We'll clear up the mess by degrees. And we'll make a strong team. Now, I'd like to know, confidentially, has anything of the sort come to your notice? Have any of your men——?"

"Been offered bribes, sir?" The Superintendent stiffened. "I've heard of none. No-one would dare to attempt to bribe them! And they wouldn't take one—not a man of them."

"You've heard of none, then? But you wouldn't—if it was accepted."

"Wouldn't I? You don't know my men, sir, as I do."

"Well, if you hear of any such attempt, will you let me know?"

"Yes, sir. But I won't hear of any such attempt!"

"How he loves those men, and trusts them!" thought the Lieutenant-Governor, not without envy and admiration.

"I'll rely on your help?" he said aloud.

"Absolutely."

"Good. That's all—just now."

Hector pondered over Lancaster's report for several hours. Bribery and corruption creeping in—here—there; and he sought for a light in the darkness.

In the afternoon Fate startled him with a piece of news directly and unpleasantly bearing on the conversation of the morning—Fate assuming the form and personality of Inspector Gemmell and of Sergeant (ex-Lieut Col.) Kellett, who came into the office to see him.

A curious pair they made, Kellett and Gemmell—the grey-headed Sergeant, with his breast of ribbons, taking orders from the boy, who might, under other circumstances, have passed for his son or the junior subaltern of his regiment.

"Well?"

The stern ejaculation jerked Gemmell into action.

"I've brought Sergeant Kellett in to report an experience he had yesterday, sir," said the curly-headed Inspector. "I thought it better you should hear it, sir, from him direct."

"All right, Kellett—your story."

"Sir," said Kellett, "yesterday, when collecting royalties, I was offered a bribe."

Hector's mind flashed back to his conversation with Lancaster. A bribe!

"The man was a Swede, Hendrick Olson, working a group of claims on Lake Fortune and another on Discovery. He handed me a large poke and told me there was more where that came from if I would not ask him to pay the royalty, or words to that effect."

"And you——?"

The Superintendent looked anxious.

"I gave it back to him, sir. Then I knocked him down."

A little of the severity in the C.O.'s thoughtful face relaxed.

"Go on."

"Then I gave him a good round talking to, sir. I told him that his was a criminal offense. I tried to make him understand what the Force represents and maintains, sir. Finally, I told him that the surest way for him to damn himself in our eyes was to play the crooked game. I think he grasped it all, sir, in the end."

Here was a man with the honour of the Force at heart—a man long trained in true esprit de corps—with real knowledge of and sympathy for his chief. Not for nothing had Sergeant Kellett commanded his own regiment in his time!

"Thank you, Kellett. Report any further affairs of this kind that come to your notice, will you? You did the right thing, Mr. Gemmell. That will do."

The Superintendent shook hands with them both; and in that moment there were between them no distinctions of rank. They were simply comrades-in-arms, united in their jealous love of the corps they served.

Forshaw came in a few minutes after the others had gone. He looked serious when Hector told him what had happened.

"What do you propose to do, sir?" he enquired.

"With the men? Nothing," answered Hector. "Only—trust them."

Later, when he saw the Lieutenant-Governor again, the latter asked him a little banteringly:

"Aren't you alarmed—in case your Department should fall from its high estate, as the recorders have done?"

"No, I'm not," he replied.

Then, on the same day, came to hand two reports, one from Dunsmuir at Hopeful Pass, forwarded through Cranbrook, the other from Cranbrook himself, returned to his station at Nugget, both bearing much on the situation developing in the Territory.

Hector read the first report:

'Nugget City, B.E.T., Today's Date.

'Officer Commanding, N.W.M.P.,
'Black Elk Territory.

'Sir: I have the honour to report that at 3 p.m. yesterday it was reported that word was being circulated through the camps on Upper Nugget for a secret meeting of certain miners to be held in O'Brien's Place, a Nugget City dance-hall, before opening time, i.e., 7 p.m., that day. I considered it better to permit the meeting to be held but to attend same myself in order to ascertain what occurred. I therefore caused it to be circulated throughout Nugget that I would be out of town when the meeting took place. I then secured admission to O'Brien's Place undetected and secreted myself. Before the meeting the hall was searched, but I was not discovered. Sentries were also posted, but in an unobtrusive way, nor were the doors or windows locked, the object being, in my opinion, to deceive us if we interrupted the meeting and cause us to believe that those in attendance had nothing to conceal.

'At 6.30 p.m. the meeting was declared open. The chair was taken by Ginger Yates, whom I have had under suspicion for some time but against whom I have been unable to obtain evidence. There were also on the platform three miners from this district. About seventy-five men occupied the auditorium. I could not recognize many of them nor was I able to identify those joining in the subsequent discussion, as my hiding-place did not afford a good view of the hall, but the majority must have been men from this district. The names of those recognised and in any way concerned with the meeting are given in attached appendix.

'The meeting was addressed by a man unknown to me. He is a newcomer to Nugget and may have come in from the outside.

'The chairman introduced the stranger as 'a friend of all miners and especially of those who had led the rush into the country after the big strike.' The unknown man then spoke for a period of fifteen minutes. I could not record his remarks in full but, in general, they were directed against the administration of this Territory. The speaker said there were far too many people in the country now and, in his opinion, the Government should have held at the border all those attempting to enter after the first big rush went through. (Cheers.) In his opinion, the first comers had a right to all the wealth of the country, but that men who came in later had struck it rich before them and had been permitted by the administration to carry off what really did not belong to them under the noses of the old-timers, many of whom, like themselves, had been thus compelled to shift to poorer fields, there being no room for them along Discovery Creek. He also stated that the laws governing Black Elk Territory should be made by the miners, irrespective of nationality, and not at Ottawa. (Cheers.)

'The speaker then repeatedly cautioned his hearers against reading his remarks as an incitation to violence. He did not advocate violence. But he thought they should respectfully petition the Government to allow them to make their own laws. And one of the first laws should compel all late-comers to hand over their claims to those who entered Black Elk before them.

'The speaker then said that the meeting was not secret, in the strictest sense, but had been called quietly together so that it might not be interrupted by non-sympathizers. The same consideration had induced him to select for an audience those known by Mr. Yates to hold his own views. It would, at the same time, be necessary to organize quietly, lest their purpose be misconstrued and their prospects wrecked.

'He then sat down, amid applause.

'The speaker was evidently a man of some education and talent. He spoke excellent English and was apparently not of the criminal class.

'The chairman calling for the audience to state their views, several members rose in support of the speaker's remarks. Two were especially extreme, abusing the Premier, the Lieutenant-Governor, the Mounted Police and yourself, and favouring violence to gain their ends. Yates suppressed these remarks. Others, whom I judged to be foreigners, insisted in demanding that the privileges of British subjects be extended to all resident in the Territory. I gathered that the audience was of a low moral character and somewhat hostile to the Force.

'A resolution was then passed, sympathizing with the speaker's stand and pledging all present to work quietly towards awakening the first-comers to 'a proper appreciation of their grievances.'

'I am having search made with a view to discovering the whereabouts and identity of the man who addressed the meeting and am also keeping O'Brien, the proprietor of the hall, and Ginger Yates, the chairman, under observation.

'I have the honour to be, sir,'

And so to Cranbrook's flourishing signature and a conclusion.

Forshaw watched his chief's face closely as he perused this report, but could read nothing there.

"What d'you think of it, sir?" he asked.

"My only wonder, Forshaw," answered the Superintendent, "is that we've not had similar reports before!"

"Then this one from Corporal Dunsmuir won't surprise you, either."

And the little man laid the following before him:

'Hopeful Pass Detachment, B.E.T.,
Today's Date.

'Officer Commanding, N.W.M.P.,
'Nugget City.

'Sir: I have the honour to report that I discovered concealed in the outfit of a negro giving the name of Rastus Lafayette Washington Green, who endeavoured to pass customs today, these weapons: 6 revolvers, of various makes, all modern; 1 Winchester rifle; 2 Snider carbines; also 100 rounds assorted revolver ammunition. I confiscated same and am detaining Green pending instructions from you.

'This man has made frequent trips from Prospect to Discovery, but no arms have been discovered on him, though his outfit, clothing, etc., have always been closely searched.

'I have the honour to be, sir,'

And so to Dunsmuir's scrawling signature and a conclusion.

The Lieutenant-Governor's report, Kellett's report, Cranbrook's, Dunsmuir's—and still he searched for light in the darkness.

Three weeks later the Lieutenant-Governor came again to Hector with a long catalogue of crookedness recently detected.

"It's too bad," Hector sympathized, when Lancaster had finished. "The temptations in this Territory are tremendous."

"Yes. But that doesn't matter. And this fellow Molyneux——"

"What about him?" asked Hector quickly.

"I don't like his presence here, Adair. He says nothing, does nothing. But suppose he carries word of all this back to Ottawa before I clean it up. That will mean ruin—to me."

"I hope not, sir."

"I'm afraid so." The Lieutenant-Governor passed a hand over his tired eyes. "Yet I'm doing my best. I couldn't fight Molyneux, though, on his own ground. And the public would suspect me of being personally implicated in this graft. They always do suspect the men on top. Yes, it will mean my finish."

"I think you'd get plenty of support from the men who know you."

"Perhaps. But could they fight Molyneux's money? And the man's been acquiring claims right and left! You know that, don't you?"

"I know it, yes."

"By the way, have your men reported anything further?"

"Bribery? Yes; several more attempts. I don't like it, sir. It's unfair to a man to try him with such temptations. Even a small bribe looks worth while to a man drawing fifty cents a day. But I'm sure the boys will pull through with flying colours."

"They'll need to. The feeling along the creeks is rising. The miners are very many; the servants of the Government very few."

When the Lieutenant-Governor was gone, Hector sat down to think. He fully grasped the significance of the corruption which the Lieutenant-Governor was fighting. Molyneux must know of it, since it was known to many of the miners. And if Molyneux did not use it as a weapon on returning to Ottawa, the miners were almost certain to raise a storm about it. The community of Black Elk was like a spirited horse, fretting against the curb. Every bribe accepted by a Government official, be he only an insignificant clerk, was a stroke from the whip. 'The miners are very many; the servants of the Government very few.' This statement showed the fear haunting the Lieutenant-Governor—the fear of serious trouble, of indignant protest by the miners against this maladministration. If trouble came, the position of the minority would be very uncomfortable. All in all, Lancaster's anxiety was not surprising.

The situation being what it was, the necessity of maintaining the integrity of his own command untarnished was greater, if possible, than ever. In view of the temptation, and of the delicate situation, perhaps a little encouragement from higher up might be a good thing.

"Vickers," he told his clerk, "take this down for circulation to all posts and detachments—to be read by every man in the division——"

Sergeant Kellett, on Discovery Creek, called Constable York's detachment to attention and read them the C.O.'s letter:

'CONFIDENTIAL.

It has been brought to the notice of the Officer Commanding, Black Elk Territory, that members of the Force and others have recently been offered bribes. The Officer Commanding has yet to learn of a bribe being accepted by any member of the Force.

The Officer Commanding recognizes no circumstances justifying any member of the Force in accepting bribes in any shape or form. Recalling the fact from personal experience, he knows of no instance since the Force was organized of any member either seeking or accepting illegitimate remuneration for his services.

All ranks of the Force in Black Elk Territory will remember that the reputation of the North-West Mounted Police is in their hands.'

The Sergeant gravely folded the paper and dismissed the detachment. Whereupon the detachment—total strength, three men—flocked round him and begged to see the letter for themselves.

Followed muttering comment: "'And others'—that's tactful, eh?"—"'The O.C. has yet to learn'—there's a touch of brag in that."—"'The Officer Commanding recognizes no'—by Jove, I wish he'd spent the winter with me in Hopeful Pass!"—"You fool, he went through worse before you were born!"—"'Recalling the fact from personal experience'—that's right! The Old Man came out with the Originals!"—"'All ranks will remember that the reputation—.' Good old 'Spirit-of-Iron'!"

"Yes," said Sergeant Kellett, forcibly annexing the letter, "it's in their hands! And, before the Lord, you, York, or any man Jack of you, if you forget it, I'll take down my stripes and lick the stuffing out of you!"

"Thanks!" the red-readed York flashed back hotly. "Think I'd go back on the Chief? You just hint that I'd forget it, Sergeant Kellett, an' I'll knock your block off, stripes an' all!"

"Right-o!" replied the Sergeant, grown strangely husky. "Keep your hair on, carrots! We'll let that sentiment stand for the whole Force, if you please."

And stand for the Force it did.

Miss Nita Oswald, when she first came to the North, had ignored Prospect as a field for 'copy.' Discovery City lured her. But closer acquaintance had shown her that Black Elk Territory was almost too law-abiding to be picturesque. Her Editors were clamouring for 'thrills' and 'ginger.' Her friends advised her to seek them in Prospect. Mr. Northcote thought that Prospect was no place for a lady. But Miss Oswald's thirst for sensation ruled her and she insisted on seeing the place for herself.

"Very well," said the Human Parson, "if you will go, I'll go with you."

"Chaperone?" Miss Oswald had queried, with a touch of assumed anger. "Think I need one?"

"Chaperone? No! Protector? Yes! Though you mightn't think it, I'm an artist with a six-shooter; and not a bad fist at boxing."

"Come on, then! There's no need to ask you to leave your odour of sanctity behind—you've never had it!"

So they went down into Prospect; and, in due course, sallied out on knowledge bent.

The streets were a blaze of light. Crowds gathered thickly, like blundering, deluded moths, round the glaring entrances of the bigger dance-halls, cafés, saloons, gambling houses, dope dens and theatres. On platforms outside the theatres bands blared murderously and leathern-throated men, standing before posters of scarlet-cheeked women in all stages of dress and undress, bellowed lurid descriptions of the delights they had to offer. From the dance-halls came crashes of music, shouts and shrieks; shouts, jingling of glasses and pistol shots from the saloons. No-one minded them. No-one minded anything—except their own business. When drunken men were flung out of the saloons, when obstreperous plungers, their last dollar gone, were pitched bodily from the gambling houses, no-one raised them from the ground where they lay. Greasy Jones' gang worked openly through the crowd. The men in the ticket-offices sat with revolvers ready to hand. Broken men, shuddering from the effects of cocaine or opium, wandered aimlessly about the dope dens. Innumerable painted ladies cried their wares. There was no peace, no truth, no beauty in Prospect. It was a ghastly hunting-ground of Vice and Death.

The Rev. Mr. Northcote and his companion saw it all.

Towards two a.m., seeking a climax, they visited a theatre, the lowest they could find. Miss Oswald was determined to see it. There were boxes at the sides, benches in the auditorium. The air was grey with smoke, the floor a mass of filth. The packed audience, as Nita Oswald afterwards told the readers of the Comet, 'would have made the combined resources of ancient Newgate and modern Sing-Sing look like a Band of Hope meeting.' There was a real stage, with real scenery. A cavern below the footlights accommodated the orchestra, consisting of a jangling piano and two asthmatic violins. The artists were of two varieties—the has-beens and the never-will-bes. The former depended on charity and their past reputations, the latter on their youth, their looks and their self-confidence, which was unfathomable. There was a bar in one corner, marvellously patronized. Between the acts, the younger actresses, in their airy costumes, ran up to the boxes and beguiled the occupants on commission into buying cigars at one hundred dollars a box and drinks at ten dollars per. Greasy Jones and his cronies occupied a box and were closely surrounded by bevies of beauty; but he paid for nothing, the proprietor being entirely dependent on his patronage.

As soon as Miss Oswald and the parson were seated, a man in an old dress suit appeared on the stage and announced that one of the actors would deliver an address.

This was a surprise to the audience, 'addresses' being unusual. But it proved even more of a surprise to the Rev. Mr. Northcote and the woman reporter.

The actor, who had previously given a 'black-face' turn, came on in costume, with his cork still on. And he began to speak. He had been drinking.

"Ladies an' Gennelmun: The lady that pre-ceded me sang you a song, the composhision of one of our bri'est local poets, directin' upon that famous force o' sanctimonious red-coats clevuhly referred to as 'the yallah-legs,' the well-deserved arrars of wit an' ridicule. Ladies an' Gennelmun, I agree with her (Cheers). You agree with her (Cheers). An' I wanna tell you folks what I think should be done to 'em.

"Ladies an' Gennelmun—fellow-citenens—them fellers have kept you an' me out o' Black Elk Terr'ty. Yes, suh, kep'us out' Black Elk Terr'ty. Is tha' right! Is tha' just? (Thunderous cries of 'No!') Cer'nly not! We're en-titled to get in on that gol' up there. An' I say we ought ge' in (Cheers).

"Now, why aren't we in there? Eh? 'Cause them yallah-legs keep us out. An' why do they keep us out? 'Cause in'str'ns from—from the citenens o' Black Elk? No! From the autocrats that govern Canada (Prolonged booing).

"Now, I advocate that the laws oughta be changed. Yes! Who should gov'n Black Elk Terr'ty? Why, the citenens! If they gov'ned Black Elk, you'd find we'd be there! Yes, suh (Cheers).

"Now, I wan' all you peepul, Ladies an' Gennelmun, to work for tha' change. Mos' of us here tonight, 'll stay here—'cause o' the yallah-legs. But you can work for tha' change jus' the same! An' those on their way in, they can work for 't, too. An' you can help fix the yallah-legs." Here followed two minutes of scathing and heartily applauded abuse of the Mounted Police. The speaker worked himself up to a high pitch of excitement. Then, "I tell you, Ladies an' Gennelmun, I'd like to see a new flag over Black Elk! Yes, I would! Any flag—but the Stars an' Stripes preferred! (Terrific applause from one section of the audience.) I want a change. An' I tell you, suh, confidenshully, there's goin'——"

Over the hall rang out a man's voice, commanding, terrible:

"Stop!"

All eyes turned to Greasy Jones' box. The actor hesitated in bewildered fashion, then, evidently deciding that the interruption was not seriously meant, went on:

"I tell you, there's going to be a change. We'll dash the yallah-legs——"

"Stop!"

"Heavens! I'm glad we came in," whispered Nita Oswald. "This is going to be exciting. Is the terrible Greasy Jones a British patriot, after all?"

"He's no patriot," the clergyman whispered back. "Keep still."

Again the actor looked up at the box. Greasy Jones, his ladies having fallen back, was clearly visible, his fierce eyes fixed on the wretched speaker.

"Isn't tha' what you——?" whispered the actor.

The answer was a pistol-shot, smashing the hush. Greasy Jones, his face livid with rage, had fired. The actor pitched upon his face, dead.

"Keep your seats, everyone!" ordered Greasy, peering with his hawk face over the audience. "Manager, take that man away. And get on with the show!"

The audience was stunned into obedience. The manager followed the gangster's instructions without a word. A raucous-voiced actress tripped onto the stage, where the murdered man's blood had left a stain, and relieved the tension with a song and dance. In five minutes the tragedy was forgotten, the crowd was laughing uproariously and Greasy Jones was toying with his girls.

Northcote's first thought was for Nita.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

But the plucky reporter's nerve, stout as it was, had been unable to stand this shock.

"For God's sake, let's get out of here!" she whispered. "This is terrible!"

Outside, recovered, she asked Northcote what he thought of the occurrence.

"I don't know," he answered. "But, rest assured, I'll see that Adair hears about that speech and Jones' extraordinary behaviour!"

Next day they returned to Discovery.