Chapter III
I
Hector and Superintendent Denton walked over together to headquarters, a group of sunlit buildings in the shadow of the straining Union Jack. A brilliant young sentry paced the path between trim rows of whitewashed stones, an orderly kept guard in the ante-room and the atmosphere breathed the ceremonious and formal efficiency invariably surrounding such places. Somewhere within this group of buildings was the Holy of Holies, the sacred and inviolate sanctum which held the High Priest of this Canadian Order of Knights Templar, the terrible and all-powerful Commissioner of the North-West Mounted Police.
They entered the Presence.
"Sit down, Denton." The Commissioner cordially waved the Superintendent to a seat. "Good afternoon, Sergeant-Major."
Hector saluted. The Commissioner looked at him quizzingly.
"I called you 'Sergeant-Major,' Mr. Adair. As a matter of fact, my recommendation which, as you know, was forwarded to Ottawa after Major Denton had brought your services to my notice in a very laudatory manner, has been approved and your appointment as Inspector is gazetted. I wanted to be the first to congratulate you on an unusually well-earned promotion."
He held out his hand. Thus was Hector's lifetime ambition achieved.
Presently the Commissioner told Hector to draw up a chair.
"I haven't had you brought here merely for this, Adair. I'm going to entrust you with an important—a very important—mission and I think it as well for me to give you some details myself."