Coming from a mysterious place, a revolver leaped into MacClaren’s hands. Dick was astounded. He had never suspected that Sandy’s uncle could draw a gun so quickly. Its cold nozzle sprang forward pressing against the front of Frazer’s coat.
“We won’t argue the matter,” he declared pleasantly. “I’ll accompany you to your room while you pack your things. After that I’ll arrange for a transport. Much as we may dislike to part with your company, Mr. Frazer, I think it is for the good of all concerned. Turn and march to your room.”
Frazer complied hurriedly, his features swollen with rage. The two figures passed through the inner doorway, their footsteps echoed down the long corridor and, presently, in the trading room a deep silence reigned.
Mopping the blood from his face with a handkerchief which Dick moistened, Sandy was soon more presentable.
“That was a mighty wallop he gave me,” half grinned the injured one. “Still, I suppose that it was coming to me. Shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
“It’s probably just as well that things have turned out as they have,” Dick reassured him.
CHAPTER XV.
A THREATENING LETTER.
The next morning, after the departure of Donald Frazer, Harold Scott, Frazer’s assistant, was placed in charge of the company’s post at Half Way House. Having made the appointment, Sandy’s uncle issued final instructions and then prepared for an immediate departure for Fort Good Faith.
“I’d just as soon you’d stay here for a week or two,” he told the boys. “There is a bare possibility that Frazer may return to cause trouble. Mr. Scott may require your help.”
This request on the part of Mr. MacClaren met with general approval, for none of them believed that Frazer’s real perfidy had yet been uncovered. Something deeper and more mysterious was afoot. Frazer’s attempt to rob the company was not, they reasoned, his only crime. He was mixed up in other and more sinister affairs. Wolf Brennan and Toby McCallum were, undoubtedly, part of the gang who were operating under Frazer’s directions.