"Knowing a thing is not sufficient; you want proof, and if you go ahead without it, you'll put yourselves in the wrong. This is not the time to alienate popular sympathy."

"Weel," said the leader, "hae ye a plan?"

Kermode lighted his pipe and after a few moments answered thoughtfully:

"I hear that Mitcham, Long Bill, and Libby will take the trail to-morrow with Bill's team and sled--he's laid off work because of the snow. They were away three or four days once or twice before, and when they came back a number of the boys got on a high-cla.s.s jag and there was trouble in camp. I dare say you can put the things together?"

"Sure," declared one who had not spoken yet. "Where do we b.u.t.t in?"

"This is my suggestion--half a dozen picked men will meet Mitcham coming home and seize the sled. If its load is what I suspect, somebody will ride off for Sergeant Inglis on my horse, and you'll have a guard ready to bring the sled to camp and hold the liquor until the police arrive.

I'm inclined to think you can leave the rest to them."

A harsh smile crept into the faces of the listeners, and their leader nodded gravely.

"We cannot do better. It will work."

The plan was duly put into execution, and one bitter night Kermode and several others plodded up a frozen creek. It had been snowing hard for the last few hours and he could scarcely see his companions through the driving flakes, while the wail of the wind in the pines above drowned the soft sound of their footsteps. Kermode was tired and very cold, and could not have explained clearly what had induced him to accompany the expedition. Adventure, however, always appealed to him, and he was sorry for Ferguson, who had, he thought, been very shabbily treated. Kermode had a fellow-feeling for anybody in difficulties.

After a while the snow ceased and they could dimly see the dark pines climbing the steep banks that shut them in. It was obvious that if Mitcham's party had entered the deep hollow, they could not well get out of it. The expedition had only to go on or wait until it met them; but Kermode did not envy the man whose duty it would be to ride across the open waste to the lonely post where Sergeant Inglis might be found.

Resting, however, was out of the question. They must move to keep from freezing, and though the snow began again, they plodded on, with heads lowered to meet the blast that drove the stinging flakes into their faces.

At length the leader stopped and raised his hand. Standing still, they heard a m.u.f.fled sound that might have been made by the fall of hoofs ahead, and they hastily turned toward a clump of spruce. The trees concealed them and the sound grew nearer, until they could see the dim shapes of men and horses moving through the driving flakes. Then they left cover and spread out across the creek. The team stopped and an angry voice came out of the snow:

"What's this? What do you want?"

"Yon sled and its load," the leader concisely replied.

"Stand clear!" cried the voice. "Go right ahead, Bill!"

A man sprang forward and seized the near horse's head.

"Stop where you are!" he cried. "We're not looking for trouble, but we want the sled!"

Two others ran out from behind the horses, but the leader of the expedition raised his hand.

"It's six to three, Mitcham, and that's long odds. Ye'll get sled and team when ye claim them in camp. Lift a fist and ye'll give the boys the excuse they're wearying for. I'll ask nothing better."

Mitcham turned to his companions.

"They've got us, boys. Leave them to it," he said.

"Lead the horses, Kermode," directed one of the party, and the team moved on again while the leader, walking beside the sled, hastily examined its load. Several small cases lay beneath a tarpaulin.

What became of Mitcham and his friends did not appear, for they were left behind in the snow; but the night grew wilder and the cold more biting.

For minutes together they could see nothing through the cloud of flakes that drove furiously past them; it was hard to urge the tired horses forward through the deeper drifts and all were thankful when they came to reaches which the savage wind had swept almost clear. They could not, however, leave the creek without their knowing it, and they had a fringe of willows, into which they stumbled now and then, as guide. When, at length, the gorge opened out, there was a high ridge to be crossed, and they had cause to remember the ascent. The route led up through belts of brush and between scattered pines, and leaving it inadvertently every now and then, they got entangled among the scrub. Two of them plodded at the stumbling horses' heads, four pushed the sled, and at the top of every steeper slope every one stopped and gasped for breath. It was now near dawn and they had marched all night after a day of heavy toil.

The ascent made, they went down the hill at an awkward run, the horses slipping with the sled pressing on them, colliding with small trees, smashing through matted brush, until they heard a hail. It was answered and another body of men appeared and escorted them into camp. Drowsy voices called to them and here and there a man looked out as they pa.s.sed the lines of shacks and tents, but no word was spoken until they reached their leader's cabin. The cases were carried in and while two of the company took the horses away the others were given hot coffee and afterward sat down to wait for morning. It was very cold and icy draughts crept in, but they were undisturbed until daybreak, when there was a cry outside:

"Here's Mitcham wanting to talk to you!"

A weary man, white with snow, entered and looked eagerly round the shack.

"I've come for those cases," he said, pointing to the pile.

"What right have you to them?" Kermode inquired.

"What right?" cried the other. "They're my property; I bought them!"

Kermode smiled.

"You hear that; you'll remember it, boys."

Mitcham's face grew dark as he saw the trap he had fallen into.

"Anyhow, I want them," he muttered. "You won't be wise to keep them."

"Now see here," said one of the party. "We have a dozen men round this shack, and if there's trouble, we have only to call for more. Every boy knows what to do. Strikes me it wouldn't pay you to bring your hobos along."

Mitcham looked at the others and saw that they were resolute. His enemies were masters of the situation. Bl.u.s.ter and threats would not serve him; but it was Kermode's amus.e.m.e.nt which caused him the most uneasiness.

"Well," he said, "keep them while you can. You're going to be sorry for this!"

He went out and several of the men broke into a laugh. They had, however, a problem to face later, when they received a sharp message from the foreman demanding their immediate return to work. All were willing to lose a day's pay, but the prompt dismissal which would follow disobedience was a more serious matter.

"The trouble is that if we leave the shack without a guard, Mitcham will steal his liquor back," declared one.

"I think I had better see Mr. Morgan," Kermode suggested, and they let him go.

The young engineer he interviewed listened with a thoughtful air to the request that several of the workmen should be given a day's leave.

"It would be awkward to let these fellows quit," the engineer protested.

"If you would tell the foreman to send the boys I'll mention ahead up the track, so they couldn't get back before evening, and give two of us a day off, it would get over the difficulty."

When he heard the names the engineer looked hard at Kermode.

"Has this request any connection with the collapse of Mr. Ferguson's church?"

"It has, indirectly. I'm sorry I can't give you an explanation."

"Try to understand how I'm situated. I may have my sympathies, but I can't be a partizan; my business is to see you do your work. Suppose I do as you suggest, will it make any trouble in the camp? I want a straight answer."

"No," said Kermode. "I give you my word that what we mean to do will lead to quietness and good order."

"Then I'll have the boys you mentioned sent up the track; they're a crowd I've had my eye on. One of your friends and you can lie off."

Kermode thanked him and went back to the shack, where he kept watch with the leader of the Presbyterians until two police troopers rode up late in the afternoon. They opened the cases and heard Kermode's story.

"You declare the man Mitcham claimed this liquor as his property?"