“If I can pry you loose from that magazine,” he declared jovially, “I’m going to ask you to step up to my room for a few minutes for a private consultation. No! Don’t look frightened. I really don’t intend to take you into custody just yet. If you’ll bring your cribbage board and a new deck of cards, I’ll promise to be lenient.”
Grinning, Dick got to his feet. Well he knew that the game he and the corporal would presently play had nothing whatever to do with cribbage. Something a great deal more important was at stake just then—he could tell that from the serious, thoughtful expression so poorly concealed under Rand’s effort at deception. The jovial manner, the subterfuge of the cribbage board and the forced laugh—all were intended for the eyes and ears of the man who still stood near the window, and whose suspicions, under any circumstances, must not be aroused.
With a quickening pulse, Dick followed the policeman through the door at the back of the trading room, down a long hallway and into an immaculately neat and clean-looking chamber, which MacClaren always reserved for the use of various members of the R. N. W. M. P. who came frequently to the post.
Rand motioned his visitor to a chair.
“Well, what did you find out?”
“Nichols handed a roll of bills to two half-breeds who entered the room shortly after your departure,” Dick replied quickly.
“Did you happen to overhear any of their conversation?” came the next question.
“They didn’t talk,” the other informed him. “The breeds moved close to Nichols, but pretended to be interested in the customers and the trading. Until he put his hand in his pocket and passed the money quickly over to one of the half-breeds, you never would have known that Murky realized that the two were standing there.”
“Then what happened?”
“Nothing. At least nothing of importance. The pair bought some tobacco and walked out. Nichols went to the window and seemed to be watching them as they hurried away. You came in yourself a moment later.”