He turned to the operator. “Thank you very much for your kindness. I think I’ll take Dick over to one of the hotels and then slip back to the flying field.”
“I can’t go to a hotel just yet,” Dick interposed. “I was told to report to Inspector Anderson at the police barracks here.”
Hardly were they in the street again, when the aviator clutched Dick’s shoulder with one hand, while with the other he pointed aloft. Through the still air there came to them the distant strum, strum, strum of a motor.
“Look!” he shouted. “The first plane from Edmonton!”
CHAPTER V
MACKENZIE RIVER POST
Convalescing after a serious illness, Corporal Rand found it expedient on this bright autumnal morning to rise, don his uniform and go for a stroll along the banks of the mighty Mackenzie River. He was still very weak and shaky as a result of his long confinement at barracks hospital, yet the crisp, still air was tonic in its effect and something of his old cheerfulness and buoyancy returned as he proceeded along the narrow footpath leading away from the post.
The corporal’s thoughts touched upon many subjects. Above all, was he glad to know that he would soon be able to return to duty. The tedium and monotony of what amounted almost to imprisonment would soon be at an end. Accustomed to a life of ceaseless activity, he yearned to be on the trail again. The old restlessness was in his blood. Before starting out he had paid a visit to Inspector Cameron. With a smile he recalled the interview with his chief and in retrospect, he saw himself again, standing at attention before the grizzled and stern director of police activities in that part of the North.
“Well, how are you feeling, corporal?”
The words had been snapped out at him in the usual brisk, nervous manner, the man’s steel-gray eyes carrying no hint of the real feeling behind them.
“I’m ready to report for duty, sir,” he made the statement carelessly.