“Yes,” was the reply, given wholeheartedly. “It is a man’s work, and the open-air life, with all the many hazards of the North, is infinitely preferable to stewing in chambers waiting for briefs; or devilling the K.C. who wants to keep all the crumbs on his own table.”
The girl nodded. “I can understand that,” she commented, and for a moment she sat there crumbling her bread.
The thoughtful look on her face was accentuated. Remembering what he had seen there when she had passed him in the road, the corporal found himself wondering if there was any connection between the two. Then Miss Gargrave spoke again.
“I suppose you are in this neighbourhood on professional business?”
“Yes,” he answered readily enough. “I have been following a man for a month and have trailed him something like four hundred miles.”
“That is a long journey in winter,” said the girl a trifle absently.
Corporal Bracknell smiled. “Nothing to boast of. There have been many longer trails in the Territory by our men. Did you ever hear how Constable Pedley took the lunatic missionary from Fort Chipewayn to Saskatchewan down the Athabasca River in the very depth of winter?”
“Yes,” answered the girl. “That was an epic. The constable lost his own reason in the end, didn’t he?”
Bracknell nodded. “Yes, but he’s better again now; though naturally that experience has set its mark on him. And if I had got my man my return journey would have been much harder than the journey up, as I should have had to look after him; and sleep with one eye open all the time.”
“You speak as if you had lost your man,” said Rayner. “Is that so?”