Fyles discovered the solitary figure at once. He also recognized him from the doctor’s close description. And even at the moment of his discovery it occurred to him as remarkable that his attention should have been irresistibly drawn and held by the least conspicuous individual in the store, who was apart from the rest at the far end of it.
It was the Wolf; slim, vital, clean-limbed, smiling, in marked contrast with all those others.
On the instant Fyles remembered something of Fraser’s description of the Wolf.
“I don’t know how it is with you, Sergeant,” he had said. “But I’m all for fool instinct when it comes to estimating the other feller. I can’t place the Wolf, and that’s a fact. He’s the brains and ability of a township of hard-living citizens. But he’s more. He looks like a half-breed and lives like one. Nevertheless, he’s white as you or me. They call him the Wolf, without any other name. And sometimes I think he’s rightly named, though I’ve seen nothing of the savage about him. Maybe it’s something in his looks. You’ll note his grin when you see him. Have you seen a young wolf at play? They grin. Grin like hell. You’ll see that grin on the face of the Wolf. But—he’s a man. And I’ve a hunch for him.”
Fyles found himself at the counter. Pideau was serving a big, florid woman with cloth. It was symptomatic that he abandoned his customer on the instant to give attention to the police officer. And Fyles smiled into the snapping eyes that searched his so intently.
“Mornin’, officer,” Pideau greeted him, in his surly fashion.
Fyles nodded, and turned to regard the unsmiling face of Annette who was serving canned goods to a man lower down the counter.
“Morning,” he replied, with easy cordiality.
Fyles was remarking to himself the amazing beauty which the moonlight had only partially revealed to him at his encounter with Annette the night before. Then he came aware that every eye was observing him. And particularly of the unfriendly gaze of the florid woman beside him.
“I’m looking for tobacco,” he announced abruptly. “What plug do you keep?”