CHAPTER XX
MORNING'S MAZE
The awakening of Sergeant Seymour was painful; never before had he known that a head could ache with the throbs that were racking his. Presently his mind took hold of a fragmentary idea—horse-blanket. Upon this, after a mental struggle, he was able to spread a picture of his sorry going-out at the hands of some mining-camp thugs, doubtless intent on robbing him.
His next wonder was what had awakened him and by way of answering that, he opened his eyes for a look around, the greatest surprise of which was broad daylight. The sun, then, must have served as his alarm clock—called him out of that night which was darker than any he had ever known before. Now its rays were streaming into a cabin room in which he lay, fully clad, upon a straw-stuffed bunk.
He did not bother to get up just then; he merely lay back on the inadequate pillow of his slouch hat and "listened" to the ache of his head. The idea that he had been robbed persisted. To his surprise, he found that the currency belt around his waist had not been disturbed. Surely mining camp crooks would know where to look for his valuables!
Then he slid his right hand over his chest to feel the holster that hung beneath his left arm. Greater surprise! His gun lay ready in its usual concealment.
The conclusions, painful in their process, were at once comforting and disturbing. He had not been trimmed or even frisked. Robbery could not have been the motive behind the attack outside the widow's restaurant. Then—what?
Slowly he raised himself to a sitting position upon the bare bunk and permitted his eyes to rove until they settled upon another shock to his tortured comprehension. This was found in the narrow window through which the sun was streaming. Iron bars crossed the opening. He must be a prisoner in jail.
"Deputy Sheriff! Samuel Hardley, the strong arm of the law!"
He swung his feet to the floor and took a somewhat wabbly stand. Further survey convinced him beyond doubt that he was in the blundering deputy's one-cell bastile. This proved to be built of logs with a door as thick as that of an ice box and studded with nails. The two windows were near the log ceiling, narrow, oblong and barred. There were three bunks along as many walls and a Yukon stove in the cell's center—no other furnishings, but enough for a frontier jail.