“The deil knows, but it will be south. Weel, we have our orders, an’ their cattle are failing, while even if we miss them we’ll strike their trail by daylight.”
“I hope you will,” I answered. “I’m anxious about my horse, but I can’t go any further to-night. He’s a big chestnut, branded small O inside the Carrington C. You’ll be careful with him, won’t you?”
“On with ye, boys,” said the sergeant. “A fair passage home, Mr. Lorimer; I’m envying ye a warm seat by the stove to-night,” and the mounted figures disappeared into 312 the gloom, while more leisurely I headed back toward the coulée. Orders were orders with the Northwest Police, and though they had ridden under Arctic cold most of the day they must also spend the night in the saddle if the horses could keep their footing much longer, which, however, seemed doubtful. The search might last several days, and I could not leave Aline so long, while a Brandon man of business had arranged to call on me the next afternoon, and I knew that if the troopers came upon it the horse would be in good hands. Still, the police at least were strong men, and I rather pitied Minnie Fletcher slowly freezing in the bitter darkness under Aline’s furs. I was glad now that she had lent them to her. Minnie evidently had not expected that the troopers, being warned by telegraph, would take up the trail so soon.
Then for the first time I recollected that Tetley had been cutting building logs on a more level strip half-way up the side of the ravine, and had cleared a jumper trail toward it. The sergeant certainly did not know this, and it struck me that while his party searched the two forking trails Fletcher’s sleigh might well have lain hidden in the blind one, and I turned the horse’s head toward Tetley’s dwelling. When I neared it my suspicions were confirmed, for a rough voice hailed me from under the trees:
“What are you wanting, stranger? Stop there!”
“I want Jim Tetley,” I answered.
“He’s way down to Dakota, and you can’t see him,” the unseen person said.
To this I replied at a venture: “I’m too cold for unnecessary fooling. Jim Tetley is inside there. Go right in, and tell him that Lorimer of Fairmead is waiting for his horse. He’ll understand that message.”
“Now you’re talking,” said the man showing himself. “Stay where you are until I come back.” And when he 313 returned, he said: “You can have it on the promise you’ll tell no one what you see. It’s not healthy to break one’s bargain, either, with Jim Tetley, while living in a wooden house with a straw-pile granary.”
“I’m a friend of Mrs. Fletcher, and I’m in a hurry,” I answered boldly, and when he ushered me into the dwelling I saw what I had expected. Minnie lay back limp and colorless in a big chair by the stove. Fletcher knelt close beside her chafing her wrists, and the table was littered with wrappings, while Tetley frowned at me from one end of the room.