When Welland, his business in Prospect transacted, returned to Discovery, he did not know that two pairs of eyes held him under close observation throughout the journey.
In telling Greasy Jones that he had come to Prospect to recover a shipment of goods, the politician had spoken the truth. Having received word of the gangster's successful parley with his lieutenants, Welland traced the goods and hired a packer with two ponies and a partner to carry them through Hopeful Pass to Nugget and there transfer them to the side-wheeler Black Elk Belle, the packer's partner remaining with Welland to see them safely to Discovery, while the packer himself returned with his ponies to Prospect.
To the packer's partner aforesaid belonged one of the two pairs of eyes which kept watch on Welland.
The second pair did duty in the head of a quiet, unobtrusive little miner supposed to be on his way from Prospect to a claim on Discovery Creek.
Of the packer's partner and his watch, the little miner knew nothing. Of the miner and his watch, the packer's partner knew nothing. They worked independently.
On arrival at Discovery, the packer's partner saw the goods safely home. There the Rev. Mr. Northcote welcomed Welland warmly. The Rev., like a true Crusader, believed in fighting his battles in the vanguard, where blows fell thickest and courage was an asset; wherefore he had always been a pioneer and was now in Black Elk Territory, youngest and wildest of Canadian communities. When Mr. Molyneux tired of hotel life in Discovery City, the Rev., swallowing his dislikes and prejudices, had offered the politician half his kingdom, a little shanty not far from barracks. Welland had accepted. Necessity and pioneering make strange bed-fellows.
The question of a job for the packer's partner—who had decided to quit at Discovery—came up at that moment. Welland had promised to help him. The Rev. Mr. Northcote needed a general factotum. The packer's partner had many qualifications. Thenceforth he became Lord Chamberlain to Mr. Northcote and assumed the name of Charlie. That night Charlie wrote a short note and posted it at the barracks. It was addressed to the packer in Prospect. But it was intended for Mr. Greasy Jones.
"Will watch him all right," said the note. "Have a job here that suits it fine."
Mr. Greasy was running no risks of a double-cross!
And the unassuming miner?—went straight from the wharf at Discovery to—Police headquarters.