WITHIN THE BARRACKS
When Constable Hope had made his report upon Berwick's abiding-place, and added to it particulars as to his visitors, and the council held on the Dome, Smoothbore recognized that he had to do with a man of more than ordinary character and intelligence. In the first place, a council held upon the Dome's summit in broad daylight was not susceptible to eavesdropping. As a base of assault upon the town, a modern rifle might drop a bullet into the barrack yard. There were possibly fifty thousand men against less than two hundred!
As a matter of fact, six hundred officers and men were on their way to the Yukon, via the Stikeen route: that is, if they had not got "cold feet" and turned back. In any case, such military outfits were of little good. Being a staunch believer in the Police, Smoothbore had little faith in the Militia!
The report of the meeting on the Dome was to the effect that council had been held and that the different parties attending it had immediately left town. Berwick's former residence had been abandoned, and its other occupants (who had been at the meeting) were not to be seen in any of the dance-halls or gambling-saloons.
Crossing the quadrangle of the Barracks from the orderly-room towards his own private office, immediately after reading the report of Constable Hope, Smoothbore met Inspector Herbert, the officer of the day.
Smoothbore returned the other's salute and stopped, which brought Herbert to a standstill also, and then, glancing over his shoulder at the Dome towering behind the town, inquired,
"Herbert, how would you like leading a squad of men against a trenched position on the top of the Dome?"
"The only way a man could storm that position would be by flying machine—and they're not invented yet. But you might cut off the enemy's supplies—that is, if you had enough men—or their water—there is no water except in the draw at the back. Were you thinking of having some manœuvres, sir?"
"Manœuvres may be made necessary by the dread realities of war."
Herbert opened his eyes wide, and looked at his chief. Smoothbore did not return his gaze; he was still looking intently at the top of the hill, where he could see a flag-staff and the figure of a man. Herbert followed his gaze, noted the human figure, and made to take his military glasses from their case. But his superior checked him. "Don't look up there with your glasses; some one may have his on us."
"You don't mean that you seriously fear an insurrection," Herbert then exclaimed; "that these dirty prospectors will show fight?" Herbert had a contempt for the populace similar to that of Louis XV.
Smoothbore turned to him. "There are as many known murderers in Dawson as there are mounted police in the whole of the Yukon. On that hill there is a man who quotes Scripture; can probably string out his pedigree to the Conquest; and propounds the doctrine that the man who steals another's substance steals that portion of his life which went to the acquiring of that substance. This is a dangerous doctrine—because it makes our grafters murderers! The great majority of his followers will absorb this doctrine without question. Every one of the discontented is ready to lay the responsibility of his non-success on the shoulders of the officials. God knows we have real grafting and grafters enough; but if you would hear each separate tale of woe, or the different tales of woe that each malcontent will unburden himself of at the least excuse, and add the whole together, the sum would involve twice the number of claims at present made in the Yukon Valley. It does not matter that these injuries are many of them fancied: the effect upon the possessor of the delusion is the same. These men have endured countless hardships on the trail: they have—many of them—staked their all in the venture. The hopes they encouraged within themselves as they struggled to the goal have given place to dejection. Now they find themselves at the end of their resources, and their ways are blocked by corruption! Can you not understand how little organized agitation will ferment rebellion?"
"And they have abundant ammunition," commented Herbert, ever-practical.
"They brought a great supply with them, thinking to kill game on the way. They met little or none, and consequently have their ammunition unspent. Look in at any of the second-hand shops, and you will find numbers of the highest class of modern rifles, with stacks of ammunition, on sale at half their original cost."
"Then you really fear rebellion?"
"Not fear, but I think rebellion is not improbable. Officers of the mounted police don't fear anything this side of the Great Divide," and the speaker smiled.
"Would it not be well to arrest the ringleaders, and nip the thing in the bud?" asked the Inspector.
"We have no charge to lay against them, except the voicing of sedition; and there was only one man who did so. And if we did arrest him—no! it would not do! Besides: sedition!—there are enough people voicing sedition within earshot of Whitehall to keep the prisons of England filled were they all arrested. It would be a hard thing to get a jury to convict on a charge of sedition."
With this the Commandant continued his way to his office.
Smoothbore sat at his desk, and filled his pipe. His conversation with his Inspector had not dispelled his apprehensions—far from it. He must do something. He turned to the constable who was busy with papers at a neighbouring desk, and sent him for Sergeant Galbraith. In the meantime he sat and thought. There were few Canadians in the total population of the Yukon, while the English and Australians were the most bitter against the existing wrongs, and foremost in their utterances of protest.
In due time Sergeant Galbraith entered and saluted. Smoothbore turned to him,
"Constable Hope has not been able to find any trace of the associates of Berwick at their tent, nor in the dance-halls?"
"He has not, sir."
"They appear to have left town. It is clear that they are organizing, which means trouble. What is Hope doing?"
"Detailed to watch the Dome, sir."
"You had better put another man on that job, and send Hope to the Forks, and on through to Dominion, if needs be, to see if he can pick up any trace of these men, and if so to ascertain what they are doing. He might travel in plain clothes. It is possible he may give the appearance of being a likely recruit for the Klondike Free State."
"Very good, sir."
"Do you see any signs of organization?"
"Nothing further, sir."
"Well, have a look in at these second-hand shops that have the most rifles and ammunition in stock, and size up what they have. Then you can see later if much is being sold. You might ask the proprietors to find out where the purchasers say they are going. The explanation for your questions will be that you understand there has been a new find made somewhere, and that you wish to ascertain where it is."
"Very good, sir."
There could be no doubt that, if a number of rebels entrenched themselves on the summit of the Dome, there would be no dislodging them, while they could drop bullets into any part of the town, including the Police Barracks!
Smoothbore had small hopes of securing any number of recruits from the civilian population. No, the civilian population would take little hand in suppressing a rising. There was no end to be served by the Police making the first move; they could only wait and watch, hoping for something to turn up. The humour of the malcontents might change; some new distraction might spring up. The British Empire had been on the verge of collapse a score of times, but always something had happened to floor the prophets. He was quite ready to believe that the man at the head of the new movement—this John Berwick—was steadfast in his affection for the British Crown; quite possibly his action in the matter grew out of his loyalty. And being right in this reflection goes to show how worldly-wise the Police Commandant really was. That in a crisis, such as was being developed, he proved strong enough to lie low, illustrates the moral and physical courage of the man.