"Passing 'em from hand to hand," Devreaux cut in with quickening interest. "Run 'em across country to one of the lonely fiords along the northwest coast, where a yacht or tramp steamer could put in undetected, and cruise off for the Orient, say, with a passenger list of folks who have said ta-ta to the police back home." He nodded with growing conviction. "It wouldn't astonish me if that is exactly what is being done."
"Profitable scheme for a man who organized the business properly," observed Dexter. "All he would have to do would be to establish his chain of way stations—cabins and shacks of so-called trappers. Agents in the states to dicker with people who needed such help, and were willing to pay. And they'd pay heavy. Take Crill: he probably couldn't find his way two miles through the forest without a guide. He'll be hanged in the Cook County jail, if he's caught. You can imagine what he'd give to an organization that promised to escort him to safety: ten, fifty thousand dollars—any sum he could scrape together!"
"Assuming that you may have guessed the truth," mused the superintendent, "we accidentally derailed the train. To settle with us they were delayed a few precious days, and the snows came and hung 'em up here for the winter."
"If I've anything to say about it," said Dexter with outthrust jaw, "the train's going into another ditch this spring."
The colonel glanced sharply at his companion. "What are you planning to do?"
"Going after them."
"They're too many for you, corporal, and you haven't even a rifle." Devreaux studied the fire for a moment with scowling face. "I'll tell you," he said at length. "There's only one thing to do. It'll be hot weather before this lung of mine is equal to heavy breathing. You'll have to work alone, I'm afraid. If I were you, the minute mountain travel is possible, I'd make for the north pass, and hide in the neighborhood. When the gang comes along, as they undoubtedly will, pick up the trail, but don't show yourself. Our men from the fort are bound to come to hunt for me as soon as they can get through the mountains. I'll make my way by easy stages to the lower pass, and meet them. Meanwhile, you blaze your path behind you, and it shouldn't be long before you have a squad of Mounties trailing by forced marches to your help."
Dexter considered for a moment, and nodded a tentative agreement. "We'll put it over somehow—when the time comes," he said.
By the middle of March the colonel was able to shed his bearskin robes and sit up by the fire, and he even essayed a few tottering steps about the cave. He could attend the fire now, or defend himself in case of an unexpected attack, and Dexter one morning decided that he might safely leave his patient alone for a day or two, while he made the trip to the lower valley to recover the packs of provisions that Devreaux and Constable Graves had cached there the previous fall.
The colonel, who had grown very weary of a diet of meat straight, readily assented to the plan; so the corporal lashed on his snowshoes and set forth on a long and difficult journey.