"A Chicago safe expert. Killed an officer on his way to jail, and got away. Was traced into Canada, and we were asked to pick him up. We heard later that he was on a Grand Trunk Pacific train, traveling for the coast. But when a constable jumped the train he learned that the red-haired passenger had dropped off between stations and taken to the woods.
"Later we got word that our man had plunged into the uninhabited wilderness, and was making this direction. I decided to make a long patrol myself, and took young Graves along. This Crill is no woodsman, mind you, yet he's outdistanced and outwitted me. And until now I've rather prided myself on being a voyageur."
Devreaux spoke with a peculiar grimness of voice. "Crill of course has had help," he went on. "Oddly, there seems to be quite a crowd of people at large on this side of the ranges. Who they are, what their business, I don't know. But I've touched their trails, seen their ax-blazes on the trees, found their dead camp fires. In this country where nobody ever comes!
"People who always managed to keep out of sight!" added the superintendent moodily. "With all the ranging and stalking we've done, Graves and I haven't clapped eyes on a single human face. Yet I know positively that there are men in this valley—six or eight or ten of them."
"All men?" asked the corporal with a sidewise glance.
"I have seen only the tracks of men's boots. Crill's, undoubtedly—and others." Devreaux cast a quick glance about him. "This unknown woman you speak of—she came this direction?"
"I heard a galloping horse at about the time you jumped me. I have an idea she's taken my pony."
"It sounded that way," observed the officer quietly. "I guess it's up to you, Dexter. How long will it take you to catch her?"
Devreaux spoke with serene assurance, and the corporal nodded coolly in acceptance of what amounted to a command. Both had learned by experience that a man afoot can walk down any horse in a prolonged chase. And Susy was jaded from days of hard travel.
"Can't say," answered Dexter. "That pony doesn't like strangers, and she'll shake her rider off if she can. But in any event, if it doesn't storm again, I should catch her to-morrow afternoon, or by evening at the latest."