'What's the plan now, Billy?' asked the Captain.
Sinclair smiled. 'A warrant will be out in the morning. We're going to arrest him in the night.'
'Any trouble getting it?' asked McAuliffe.
'Took time, of course. But, I tell you, the Commissioner took down what I had to say, as though 'twas a plateful of oysters.'
'There's the reward as well, Billy,' put in the Captain.
'Yes. He said my services would be referred to the Government—'
'Don't you believe it, Billy,' interrupted the Factor. 'I know that sort of darned business. They'll refer to each other, and this joker will write to another baldhead. He'll go on to some other fool, and that one will refer the whole crowd back to first correspondence. Then they'll start to work over again. By the time your grandchildren are getting oldish, you'll get a letter to say they won't give you anything, owing to lapse of time, incorrect information, and a lot of other truck. That's how they do business in Government offices. They work for eternity, they do.'
'Near shifting time,' said the Captain. 'I'll be finishing my smoke presently, then we'll make. Wake up, Dave.'
The latter gentleman was lolling over the table, breathing deeply. McAuliffe poured some water down his neck with instant result.
'It's your ante, Dave; hustle yourself. There's going to be a picnic round here. We're going to have Lamont arrested and strung up at Regina. We'll go there together, Dave, and cut a dido.'