“He would waken himself if he were not so fearfully done up. He has a trick of waking at any hour he sets,” said Mandy.
A few minutes later Cameron justified her remarks by appearing from the inner room. The men, accustomed as they were to the ravages of the winter trail upon their comrades, started to their feet in horror. Blindly Cameron felt his way to them, shading his blood-shot eyes from the light. His face was blistered and peeled as if he had come through a fire, his lips swollen and distorted, his hands trembling and showing on every finger the marks of frost bite, and his feet dragging as he shuffled across the floor.
“My dear fellow, my dear fellow,” cried the Inspector, springing up to meet him and grasping him by both arms to lead him to a chair. “You ran it too close that time. Here is the Superintendent to lecture you. Sit down, old man, sit down right here.” The Inspector deposited him in the chair, and, striding hurriedly to the window, stood there looking out upon the bleak winter snow.
“Hello, Cameron,” said the Superintendent, shaking him by the hand with hearty cheerfulness. “Glad, awfully glad to see you. Fine bit of work, very fine bit of work. Very complimentary report about you.”
“I don't know what you refer to, sir,” said Cameron, speaking thickly, “but I am glad you are here, for I have an important communication to make.”
“Oh, that's all right,” said the Superintendent. “Don't worry about that. And take your own time. First of all, how are you feeling? Snow-blind, I see,” he continued, critically examining him, “and generally used up.”
“Rather knocked up,” replied Cameron, his tongue refusing to move with its accustomed ease. “But shall be fit in a day or two. Beastly sleepy, but cannot sleep somehow. Shall feel better when my mind is at rest. I cannot report fully just now.”
“Oh, let the report rest. We know something already.”
“How is that?”
“Superintendent Strong has sent us in a report, and a very creditable report, too.”