As he spoke, the policeman jerked his head in the direction of the door. A steady stream of the curious were pouring out. An inquisitive throng soon gathered around them. On every side rose guttural exclamations, accompanied by much chattering and shaking of heads. Attracted by the commotion, Wandley himself appeared presently.
“Why, hello, sergeant!” he hailed the policeman. “What’s up? Bring your men inside.”
Richardson drew the free trader aside and a whispered consultation ensued. At its conclusion, Wandley led the way to a small building, which had previously been used for storing fur, but which, during recent years, had become too small to accommodate the trader’s growing business.
“You can fit up this place to suit yourself. It’s strongly built and will probably serve your purpose. I have a padlock inside for the door.”
It was not long before La Qua and his followers were locked up and a guard, recruited from the crowd, stationed just outside. Then Sandy accompanied Malemute Slade and Richardson to Pearly’s room. The wounded man smiled cheerfully as they entered.
Sandy was overjoyed at the remarkable change in Pearly’s appearance. Although still running a high fever, he had taken a turn for the better. The greatest danger had passed. Sergeant Richardson stood near the bed but did not speak. A deep hush had fallen over the room. Suddenly the grizzled veteran of a hundred trails put out one hand and permitted it to rest for one brief moment upon the wounded man’s head. That was all. But many of the harsh lines in the face of the police sergeant had softened. Silently he turned away, motioning to Slade and Sandy to follow him. They repaired to the room, which had been placed at their disposal. Closing the door after him, Richardson lost no time in getting down to business.
“You asked me, Slade, where we got our prisoners. Over at Murky’s cache. We had a little trouble there. If you’ll listen closely I’ll give you full particulars of the affair.”
When the policeman had finished his narrative, Sandy noted the impression it had made upon the scout. Malemute’s eyes were shining with excitement.
“So that’s where Murky had his cache. Yuh can believe it or not, sergeant, but I passed that place not more than two days ago. I didn’t see nothin’ that looked suspicious. Mebbe it was a good thing I didn’t stop to investigate. It might o’ spoiled ever’thing. So Rand is followin’ the pack-train through Blind Man’s Pass? Can yuh beat that? Here I’ve been searchin’ fer nearly a month an’ couldn’t find it.”
Sergeant Richardson drummed softly on the table. He looked up and smiled.