"I beg your pardon, Miss Lawson," said Phil, "but please say that again."
CHAPTER XVIII
MCCORQUODALE EXPLAINS
On the heels of the message from President Wade came Detective McCorquodale an hour before sundown. He did not arrive on a train from the east, as expected, but by way of the old Indian trail that wound back for half a mile to Wolverine River, the trail once used by Indian hunters to go north into the game country. Kendrick happened to be lounging on the embankment in front of the section shanty, waiting for Thorlakson and his men to come pumping down the track on the handcar, while Cristy was helping indoors with the dinner. He recognized the detective the moment he saw the familiar chunky figure emerge from the woods and come out onto the track and he went down to meet him on the run.
"Well, well, well!" was the greeting McCorquodale launched. "He tore the false beard off his chin an' there—stood—Tom! How are you, Kendrick?"
Phil eyed him anxiously as they shook hands.
"Drop out of the clouds, man? I just got the Chief's wire this afternoon. In heaven's name, McCorquodale, what's the meaning of all this?"
"Heaven aint sittin' in on this hand, 'bo," grinned the C.L.S. detective cheerfully. "It's devils I'm trailin'. Hell's broke loose an' spilled 'em all over the map."
"What do you mean? What's happened? Is my aunt——?"
"Oh, y'needn't worry' bout y'r auntie none. She's all hunky-dory.
It's those booze birds we're goin' after, you'n'me, see. Chief's
orders, kid. An' oh boy! it's goin' to be some party, believe me!
Let's sit down here an' I'll wag m' jaw."