Breakfast, a few minutes more of preparation, and Dick and the mounted policeman, the latter now clothed in ordinary civilian garb, slipped quietly out of the room and hurried down a long hall in the direction of the side entrance. As they went, the corporal was speaking in hushed undertones:
“It’s just as well that Sandy doesn’t see you before you go. We haven’t time now for explanations or further delays. Good luck, and God be with you.”
They paused for a single hand-clasp before Dick turned to close the door after him, which action Corporal Richardson prevented by sticking out his foot.
“Straight ahead until you cross the river, then take the first trail to your right,” he called out. “Be careful!”
“Good-bye,” said Dick without turning his head.
His eyes were moist and a sticky lump reposed in his throat. Chin out, arms swinging at his side, who, indeed, might detect anything amiss here? The trail was ahead, a glimmering stretch of snow, dazzling in the early morning light. Behind him were friends, comfort and a good fire.
Dick plodded on.
CHAPTER V
DICK IS INDISCREET
Three hours after he had left Fort Good Faith, Dick Kent, still on the Run River trail, had become conscious of an increasing nervousness. The section of country through which he now passed was densely wooded, rugged and broken, a treacherous, uninviting prospect. Dick estimated that he had travelled about twelve miles from the post. To continue much farther might prove to be a dangerous business. Even now, as he went cautiously forward, he could almost persuade himself that behind every clump of bushes, behind almost every tree, there crouched the leering, skulking form of one of Henderson’s men.
If he followed his original plan, the thing to do presently was to strike off, either to the right or left, and proceed on his way back by a circuitous route. Tonight he would camp somewhere in the open, building himself a shelter of spruce boughs. Tomorrow morning he would set out again, moving slowly, making a wide detour, always bearing in mind that he must not, under any circumstances, return to Fort Good Faith before two days had elapsed. The fur thieves, both he and Corporal Richardson had conjectured, would be sure not to delay more than two days before commencing the trek southward with their valuable loot. So Dick had a good deal of time to waste, before he might hope to rejoin his friends.