In a surprisingly short time the young man said, “They’re O.K.ing.”
“Ask them to repeat,” said Gatineau.
The young man wrote down the message as it clicked back, Gatineau watching his writing hand. He had written the last word only when the detective said, “O.K. That’s all.” Then the bamboo pole and the plugs were disconnected, the instrument dismantled, a guard waved a light and the train moved on.
“Five minutes,” smiled Walt. “That’s how it’s done, Mr. Seadon.”
“Yes, you people make the check-mating of rogues seem child’s play,” smiled Clement, and he went to his bunk almost with serenity.
III
At Sicamous station a railwayman slipped on board the car and spoke to Gatineau. Gatineau and Clement left the train at once, walked straight into the pretty hotel that hangs right above the lake and is the only considerable structure in the place, and, passing straight through the lounge, found themselves in the manager’s sitting room.
A youngish man with the nondescript clothes and the air of a homesteader got up from a rocker-chair and said: “You’re Mr. Gatineau. Pleased to meet you. And Mr. Seadon. My name is Cager. Plenty of news, Mr. Gatineau.”
“You sent the wire I asked?” asked Gatineau. The young man handed over a cable form. It was the wire to Méduse. “Good. Did the woman send anything?” Again, without a word, the young man handed over another cable form. Both men read it. It was to Arthur Newman c/o Wandersun. It ran:
“Arrived Banff. No message from you. M. S.”