# The Trail of the Golden Horn/Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4
To Be Continued
FOR two days Marion Brisbane lived in a world of doubt and uncertainty. She was in a quandary. She had found her father, only to lose him again. Should she go in search of him? But where would she go? How could she find him? To whom could she turn for advice and help? How could she explain the reason of her search without telling who the man really was? And this she did not wish to do, for the present, at least. This problem agitated her mind as she went mechanically about her work. The child had been taken by a man and his wife who had no children of their own, and were strongly drawn to the little waif of the night.
When the story of the old man’s visit to the hospital and his sudden disappearance leaked out, it caused much comment in Kynox. Several surmised that it was Hugo, the wanderer of the trails, the peculiar trapper about whom they had heard much, although few had ever seen him. From the earliest days mystery has always delighted the human mind. Strange characters, noted for their peculiar ways, and endowed with great strength, have ever made special appeal. They give a spice, a thrill to life, and remove some of its monotonous drabness. No race, no age, has ever lacked some mysterious being about whom many legendary tales gather. This was true in a way of Hugo, the ​trapper. Where he had come from no one knew. He had no settled abode, being in one place to-day and miles away on the morrow. He had been known to appear suddenly at some mining camp with an injured prospector and vanish again into the wilderness. He was as elusive as a shadow, and just as intangible. He was terrible in a fight, so it was asserted, and he was the only creature of which the grizzlies, the dread of the trails, were afraid. His latest act in bringing in the little child stirred up afresh the numerous stories concerning his mysterious life.
Marion had heard some of these tales before, but had taken no special interest in them until now. She had concluded that the trapper was some great uncouth creature, half man and half beast by nature, who had lived most of his life in the wilderness. But never for an instant had he meant anything to her. That such a being could be the one for whom she was so anxiously seeking was beyond the bounds of her wildest imagination. Now she knew, and she listened with fast-beating heart to every scrap of information concerning the trapper. She concealed her feelings as much as possible, although when alone in her own room she would pace excitedly to and fro, her mind rent by wild, conflicting emotions. That she must see him again was the burden of her thoughts. To find him she had come north, and she must not give up until she had accomplished her purpose.
The second evening after Hugo’s arrival a startling story drifted into Kynox from Swift Stream. It told of the murder of Bill Haines, his wife, and little child near the C. D. Cut-Off. Two miners on their way down river had stopped at the cabin, found signs of a fierce struggle, and marks of blood leading to the ​river. They had reported the affair to the Mounted Police at the first station they reached, so the news was at once flashed to headquarters at Swift Stream, over the single wire running from Ashcroft to Dawson.
This was most disturbing news to the people of Kynox, and their thoughts naturally turned to the little child which had been brought to the hospital by Hugo, the trapper. Did the latter know anything about the murder? they asked one another. What was he doing with the child? and why had he left so mysteriously in the night? It was very strange and suspicious, they reasoned, that he had reported nothing, and had given no word of explanation. It was surely the Haines’ child he had brought to Kynox, so he must know something about the terrible affair near the Cut-Off.
Marion was now more disturbed than ever. Outwardly she was very calm as she answered the numerous questions about the night visitors. She merely related what the night nurse had told her, and made no mention of her own first secret visit to the kitchen. She was determined not to divulge that. But fearful thoughts would persist in forcing themselves into her mind. Had her father committed that terrible deed? Anyway, if he knew anything about it why had he not reported at once? Her father a murderer! The idea was almost unbearable. She could not believe it. No Brisbane would ever descend to such depths. But her father would be suspected. The Police would hear about his visit to the hospital with the child, and of his sudden departure in the night. They would track him, find him, and bring him to trial. Would he be able to clear himself? to prove that he was innocent?
​Marion thought of all this and a great deal more during the rest of the week. She found it difficult to sleep, for she would awake in the middle of the night overwhelmed with a presentiment of impending disaster. Saturday came, and also Sergeant John North. He and Rolfe brought the injured miner to the hospital, and when the constable had left, North remained. Marion thought that he had never looked so handsome as when he stood before her that afternoon, clad just as he had come from the trail. He was a noble specimen of a man, well-built, and over six feet in height. His face, bronzed and weather-beaten, was strong, and his mouth and chin firm. His face was smooth-shaven, for Sergeant North was careful of his personal appearance, particularly so whenever he visited Kynox. His eyes, grey and steady, were never known to flinch from danger. When they glowed with anger or indignation, as they did on special occasions, their owner was a man to be feared. But now they shone with a tender expression as they rested upon Marion Brisbane’s slightly flushed face.
Sergeant North was a reserved man, and little accustomed to the company of women. Years on the frontiers of civilization had brought him into contact with many stern realities of life. Surrounded by the ruggedness and the grandeur of nature in every possible form, he had gradually and unconsciously become moulded by its mystic influence. The ways of polite society were to him a closed book, and the petty social chatter made no appeal. He loved the open, the great spaces, and the winding trails. The iron of the land had entered into his being, and the silent, mysterious alchemy of the north affected his soul like magic. Combined with all these subtle influences was the law ​of the Force he served. It was Duty first and last. “Maintien le Droit” was the motto of this wonderful body of men, and the code written in the little red manual was stern and stripped of all useless verbiage. It told without a shadow of a doubt what was expected, and the instructions were to be followed to the letter. This suited Sergeant North. He loved the life, and never once had he swerved one hair’s breadth from the strict line of duty.
His was not an impressionable nature, and he was always shy in the presence of women. But when Marion Brisbane crossed his path it was altogether different. She inspired him with confidence, his shyness vanished, and he could talk freely. Out upon the trails a vision of her was ever before him, and he always counted the days until he could see her again. So standing before her this afternoon in the hospital, he feasted his soul upon her face, lips, eyes, and hair. He did not want to talk; it was heaven enough to be near her, and to revel in her beauty. Whatever Sergeant North did it was with his whole might. He threw himself unreservedly into every undertaking. He was a hard trailsman, a stern fighter, when fighting was necessary, and now for the first time in his life he was a great lover.
Marion’s eyes dropped beneath North’s ardent gaze, and she became somewhat embarrassed. Neither spoke, and for a few seconds intense silence reigned. Then they both smiled and the tension was broken.
“Forgive me for keeping you standing,” Marion apologized. “It is very stupid of me. Come in here,” and she opened a door on her right.
“I have not long to stay,” North explained, as he followed her into the little sitting-room, and seated ​himself in a comfortable chair which Marion offered. “There is very serious business ahead. You know to what I refer.”
“You mean the murder near the C. D. Cut-Off, I suppose,” Marion replied as she seated herself near the window. “I have heard of it.”
“And you had a visit from Hugo, the trapper, I understand.”
“Oh, yes. He brought a little child here one night.”
“Where is the child now?”
“With Mr. and Mrs. Parker. They have taken it as their own, and are very fond of it.”
Sergeant North gazed thoughtfully out of the window for a few seconds. He was really looking at the peak of the Golden Horn far away in the distance, although he saw it not. His mind was upon more important things.
“Are you certain that it was Hugo, the trapper, who brought that child here?” he asked.
“No, I am not,” Marion emphatically replied, “but it is the general opinion in Kynox that he is the man.”
“Did he wear his cap while he was in the hospital?”
“Yes, even when he was asleep on the kitchen floor.”
“Then it was Hugo, all right; I never saw him without his cap.”
“Why does he always wear it?”
“I do not know.”
Marion’s hands were clasped upon her lap, and although her eyes were downcast she knew that the sergeant was looking intently upon her face. The next instant he had reached out and caught both of her hands in his. With a slight cry of surprise, Marion tried to free her hands, but the sergeant held them firm.
​“Don’t, don’t,” she gasped as she struggled to her feet. “You must not do that; it isn’t right.”
“Love makes it right,” North replied, as he also rose. “Marion, I love you, and I want you to know it. I am a man of few words, and not used to love-making language. But I must tell you. I cannot restrain myself any longer.”
He ceased, drew her to him, and his lips met hers. No longer did Marion contend, for a happiness such as she had never known swept over her. She felt North’s strong arms about her, holding her close. Neither spoke. It was enough that they were together, so words were unnecessary.
Gently at length Marion freed herself from her lover’s embrace, and stood before him with flaming cheeks.
“I never imagined that you loved me so much,” she murmured. “It seems like a wonderful dream.”
“It is no dream,” North assured, “it is the glorious reality. I was afraid that you didn’t love me, but I had to tell you to-day, for I might not see you again for some time.”
“What! are you going away?”
“Yes, in a short time, just as soon as the dogs get rested a little. There is serious work ahead, and I must not delay.”
“In connection with the murder?”
“Yes. Hugo is the man I want. He is either the murderer, or he has information which I need. But he is a nasty man to face, and there may be trouble.”
“Oh! do you think so?” The color faded somewhat from Marion’s cheeks. She had to think of two now. How terrible it would be if her father and her lover should meet in a deadly encounter! She longed to tell ​North of the discovery she had made. If he knew that Hugo was her father, would he let him escape for her sake? But how could she tell him? What would he think of her for trying to divert him from the strict line of duty which she understood he had always followed?
These thoughts flashed through her mind with lightning rapidity as she stood there. North noted the troubled expression in her eyes, and attributed it to her interest on his behalf.
“You must not worry about me,” he told her. “I am well able to take care of myself.”
“But I am thinking about the trapper,” Marion truthfully explained. “I do not believe that he is the murderer. Why should he have brought that little child here if he had murdered its parents? Would he not have killed it, too, and fled to the wilderness? Have you thought of that?”
“Indeed I have,” was the emphatic reply, “and it is that which puzzles me. But Hugo is a strange character, and always does just the opposite from what one would expect. He may have brought the child here in order to deceive us.”
“But no one would have suspected him,” Marion insisted. “He could have murdered the parents and child and thrown their bodies into the river. What reason did he have for saving the child and bringing it here? Would you have suspected him of the deed?”
“Not at first, perhaps, but eventually we would have suspected him. It is utterly impossible for any man to escape in a country such as this. So far, every criminal has been brought to justice, no matter to what part of the world he fled. But, there, let us forget Hugo at present. I shall have enough of him before long. It ​is of you alone I want to think, Marion. Your love means more to me than anything else. And you do love me, don’t you? The assurance from your lips will send me forth upon my quest with renewed energy. I shall hasten the task, knowing that the sooner it is accomplished, the sooner I shall return to you.”
The sergeant was about to reach out his arms once more to draw Marion toward him, when a step along the hallway caused him to hesitate. He retreated a couple of steps, and thus the two were standing facing each other in a most formal manner as a nurse appeared at the door.
“Excuse me, Miss Brisbane,” she began, “but a man has just arrived from Big Chance for the doctor. A miner has been seriously injured, and needs medical aid.”
“Where is the man who brought the news?” Marion questioned, now all attention.
“He has gone to look after his dogs,” was the reply. “I told him the doctor was away, but that we are expecting him back soon. He asked if one of the nurses could go, as the case is very urgent. He said that he could not take his own dogs out again, as they are almost exhausted with travelling day and night. I wonder what can be done.”
“I must get a team and go at once,” Marion emphatically declared. “I have gone before, so can do it again. Tell Miss Wade to prepare my outfit, as she knows what I shall need. I know where I can get a good team of dogs, so shall look after that myself.”
When the nurse had gone, Marion turned to the sergeant. Her eyes shone with animation and her face expressed determination.
“You will have to excuse me,” she simply said. ​“‘Duty first’ is the law here as well as in the Force. I must get ready at once.”
“Suppose you travel with me,” North suggested. “I am bound for Big Chance, and nothing on earth would please me better than to have you along. I shall order Rolfe to have the dogs ready in an hour’s time. They are a great team, and can make the trip faster than any dogs you can get in Kynox. I am sure we shall enjoy the run together. Rolfe, too, will be delighted to have a woman along. He will regale you with poetry of which his head is full. He is an excellent fellow, for all that, and as true as steel.”
“I think it will be splendid to go with you,” Marion emphatically replied. “It will not take me long to get ready. As for poetry, Mr. Rolfe can quote to his heart’s content. I shall enjoy it, I am sure.”
“But what about the important matter we were discussing when the nurse arrived? I am hungry for your answer. You surely have it ready.”
“Oh, that’s to be continued, like they say about a story,” Marion smilingly replied.
“On the trail?”
“Perhaps so.”
“And the conclusion?”
Marion paused as she was about to leave the room. Her thoughts flashed to the murder, and her suspected father. The troubled expression returned to her eyes as she turned them upon her lover’s face.
“The conclusion can only come after several more chapters have been written,” she quietly replied. “All depends upon the nature of those chapters. You must be patient and wait.”