They had vanished into the maze of cross lines that radiated from that railway junction.
VI
The journey from Cobalt to North Bay was made on one of those skeleton motor trolleys railway men use to get from place to place. It was the only means of making the journey.
It was swift and thoroughly uncomfortable. They had to cling tight to the center handrail as they rocked and swung through a primitive country of bare rocks and skeleton like, burnt-out forests. Clement, bone-tired from his heavy and sleepless night, was saved from pitching onto the ballast several times by the grip of the motorman or Gatineau.
At North Bay, they had to walk across goods yards through groups of men to get to the station offices. This walk, slight though it was, seemed to have so curious an effect on Clement that he behaved entirely out of the normal. He refused to go on with Xavier Gatineau.
The little detective hesitated for a moment, puzzled, and Clement said quietly, “Go in—I must stay outside, for a reason.” In a louder voice he cried, “I’ll put these suitcases in the baggage room, and make inquiries there.”
Mystified at this strange behavior, Xavier Gatineau went into the station superintendent alone. When he came out half an hour later he expected Clement to be missing from the platform, but he was still there. His eye that caught Gatineau’s said, “Well?”
“The ladies have gone south,” said the little detective. “They’ve gone to a place called Orillia. It’s a junction town. They can break off from there anywhere—back to Montreal, or to the West, or even down to the States.”
He gave his information in a matter-of-fact tone. He was astonished, in fact, horrified, when Clement Seadon said in a loud voice, “Orillia! I see it; it’s like them. They are banking on us rushing straight west to Sicamous, the dogs! While we scamper west, the meeting between Miss Reys and Gunning will happen at Orillia, or near it. Good God, it’s a neat blind. But, thank heaven, we have your organization behind us; that’s saved us; well steal a march on them to Orillia.”
Xavier Gatineau was completely mystified as well as aghast at this attitude. He was aghast that this stupid fellow should talk so that all the world could hear. He was mystified, because, unless Clement Seadon had suddenly lost his senses, this dash to Orillia was obviously not at all the thing to do.