# The Trail of the Golden Horn/Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29
Good News
GREY dawn found Marion at work preparing breakfast. There was plenty of food, for Sergeant North had attended to that before leaving. The missionary’s cache had been drawn upon, and the Indian woman had brought what she could spare from her own cabin. Marion knew that Zell would soon be awake and ready for something to eat. She wished to have the girl well and strong for the trip back to Big Chance, which she knew would have to be made ere long. Then the missionary needed more nourishing food that he, too, might gain in strength. She also had the absent ones in mind. At any minute her father and the doctor might arrive, or the sergeant and the constable. Deep in her heart she was more anxious about John’s return than any one else. She was not so much concerned now about the missionary, as he seemed to be somewhat improved. Anyway, he was being well looked after. But with John, it was different. She knew of his great daring when in the line of duty, and who could tell what might happen when he overtook the villain he was pursuing? Suppose he should be shot! The thought was terrible, and her hands trembled as she lifted a kettle from the stove.
At that instant a sound outside arrested her attention. Then she heard the jingle of bells, and voices of men. In another minute the door was thrust suddenly open and her father entered. Closing the door to keep ​out the cold, he stood for a few seconds peering keenly before him, accustoming his eyes to the dimness within. Marion could see him plainly, and how big and powerful he appeared. What a tower of strength he seemed to her just then. He was heavily hooded, and the frost hung thick upon his beard and eyelashes. Never was she more delighted to see anyone, and she hurried quickly toward him.
“Oh, father,” she cried, “I am so glad you have come. Is the doctor with you?”
“Yes, he is here safe and sound. He is looking after the dogs, so will be in presently. How is the missionary?”
“Much better, I believe. He has regained consciousness. But tell me, how is Tim, Zell’s lover?”
“Oh, he’s getting along great, and should be well in a few weeks. The doctor got there just in the nick of time. My, he did a clever piece of work.”
Hugo had scarcely finished speaking when with a great cry of joy Zell darted from her bedroom, and rushed toward the trapper. She had slept fully dressed so as to be ready should the doctor arrive in the night. Her eyes were shining and her face beaming with joy. Hugo looked at her with admiration.
“Well, bless my heart!” he exclaimed. “This doesn’t look like the little girl I left so sick but a few days ago.”
“Is Tim really better?” Zell asked, unheeding his comment. “Say it again.”
“Yes, he is better, thanks to the Good Lord and the doctor. But he needs something yet to make the cure complete.”
“And what is that?” Zell almost breathlessly inquired.
​“A little lass who scurried away and got into no end of trouble. When she gets back to Big Chance Tim will be all right. But, hello! what’s the matter? What are you blushing about?”
Hugo was in great spirits, an entirely changed man from the sullen and morose rover of the trails. He seemed like one who had escaped from prison, and was enjoying to the full his unaccustomed freedom. Marion watched him with wonder and secret rejoicing. He was like the father she had known as a little girl. He had the same hearty voice and the ringing laugh. His very presence inspired confidence and good will.
In a few minutes the doctor entered and was given a hearty greeting by Marion and Zell. He was a splendid type of man, a great trailsman, and beloved by miners and Indians alike. He had given up a good practice to come to the north to assist in the medical work which was being carried on at Kynox and other centres. No distance was too great, and difficulties were as nothing in his work of loving mercy. The most abject native would receive from him the same care as the most important person in the country. To the hospital at Kynox he had been a tower of strength, and everywhere the miners and prospectors swore by the word and honor of Doctor Stephen Rainsford.
“This is the life I like best,” he had once said to a man who had asked him why he was willing to bury himself in the north. “It is the kind of service that suits my make-up. Cities and towns outside are crowded with doctors, too many, in fact, but in a country such as this they are very scarce.”
Dr. Rainsford examined the missionary most thor​oughly. He would not touch a bite of food until he had done so, hungry and tired though he was.
“You are right in your conjecture, Miss Brisbane,” he at last informed the nurse. “The bullet did not enter his body, as you at first supposed. It evidently struck him a glancing blow on the head, judging from the mark I find there. Then I find another mark which might have been made when he fell, hitting, no doubt, the table as he did so. It was certainly a narrow escape.”
“It was the Lord’s doing,” the missionary quietly replied. “Only His intervention saved me, for the revolver was fired pointblank at my head. He must have work for me still to do or else He would not have spared me. It is good of you, doctor, to come here on my behalf. I have often heard of your noble deeds. I hope you will be comfortable in this humble abode, and make yourself perfectly at home.”
This Dr. Rainsford was well able to do. He was the life of the mission house, and as he and Hugo ate the breakfast which Marion had prepared, he related amusing incidents of the trip from Big Chance.
“My friend Hugo, here, set me a hard pace,” he laughingly remarked. “He was in such a hurry that he would hardly stop to eat or to sleep.”
“You seemed to be hungry about all the time,” the trapper laughingly replied. “You wanted to stop every hour or so for something to eat. We were entirely out of grub when we got here.”
“Did you pass the place where we had that terrible experience with the snow-slide?” Marion asked. “I shudder whenever I think of it.”
“We did, although the last storm covered up the great scar. I was in fear of my life when coming along ​that trail. We heard a great roar one night and I am certain it was another avalanche. We shall not go back that way, if I have anything to say about it.”
“When do you expect to return, doctor?”
“As soon as possible. I may be needed at Kynox. I have been away for some time.”
“Are the nurses getting on all right?”
“Very well, indeed. But they were worrying about you when I left.”
“Can’t you wait until Sergeant North and the constable return?” Marion asked. “It would be so nice for us all to go back together.”
“When do you expect them, Miss Brisbane?”
“I do not know. It is impossible to tell how long it will take them to capture the man they are after. You have heard about the murder near the C. D. Cut-off, I suppose?”
“Oh, yes, it is the talk of the entire country. And, by the way, I have something which will interest you in connection with that murder. It is an article in a paper I received just before I left Kynox. And I have several letters for you, too, I had forgotten all about them.”
Rising and crossing the room, he picked up a small leather bag he had deposited on a bench, opened it, fumbled around and at last brought forth a package.
“That’s for the sergeant,” he explained. “Letters galore. Ah, here’s yours, Miss Brisbane,” he continued as he handed to her several letters tied together with a string.
Eagerly Marion cut the string and examined the letters. By the postmarks she had a fairly good idea from whom they came, friends she had known in other days, and who had never forgotten her. What a feast she ​would have reading their messages when alone by herself, if ever that time should come.
“Yes, here’s the paper at last.” It was the doctor speaking, and glancing up, Marion saw him unfolding a copy of the little weekly paper published at Swift Stream. “Now, listen to this,” he continued, “and let me know what you make of it.” He then began to read.
“‘The C. D. Cut-off Murder.
“‘A recent despatch throws new light upon the murder of William Haines and his wife which took place a short time ago near the C. D. Cut-off. From the description of them which has been received it seems that they were living under an assumed name. They were two of a noted band of thieves, but having changed their manner of living they fled to the Yukon, buried themselves in the wilderness. Here Haines, whose real name was Marson, cut wood for the river steamers, and rocked out gold on the river bars during the summer. He and his wife were noted for their hospitality to all travellers along the river. The murderer has not yet been found, although a certain man is under suspicion. The Police have information that may lead to his conviction should he be found. It seems that this man knew Haines and his wife years ago, and was himself one of the notorious band of thieves. He evidently discovered the whereabouts of his former companions, and visited them. What led to the fearful crime is not as yet known. It is surmised, however, that the Haines possessed considerable money, or valuable jewellery, and a quarrel over this may have been the cause of the murder.’”
“That’s it, I believe,” Hugo interrupted. “There ​was a ring, and I found it, a valuable one, if I am not greatly mistaken.”
“You!” the doctor exclaimed, nearly dropping his paper in his excitement. “Why, then, didn’t you give it to the Police? What did you do with it?”
“Kept it, of course, doctor, until I found someone I could trust. There were several reasons why I didn’t hand it over to the Police. And, besides, I wanted to keep it myself until I found the man who killed Bill Haines and his wife, and then—” Hugo’s eyes flashed with the old fire as he abruptly ended, and stood gazing straight before him.
“Have you the ring now?” Marion asked. Her voice was low, and the old dread was upon her. Would not the possession of the ring implicate her father in the crime? How could he clear himself?
“No, I have not the ring,” Hugo replied. “I gave it to the missionary to keep for me. But I cannot find it anywhere. It must be hidden in a very secure place, or else it has been stolen.”
“It has been stolen.”
These low impressive words caused all to start and look quickly around. What they saw was almost unbelievable. There in the doorway stood the missionary, white and haggard. His eyes were bright and filled with the light of determination. He tottered and leaned against the door post for support. The doctor stepped forward to assist him.
“You should not be here,” he advised. “You are not strong enough to walk yet. Let me help you back to bed.”
“No, no, I must stay up for a while. I shall soon be all right. I have something to tell you, and the Indians ​will soon be here, so I must be ready to receive them. Help me to my chair, please.”
Seeing how thoroughly determined the old man was, the doctor did as he was requested, and assisted him to his chair which Hugo had drawn up close to the stove. Wearily the missionary sank down and his head drooped forward. Marion at once brought him a drink of hot broth which when he had taken he felt stronger.
“Thank you so much,” he murmured. “You are all very good to me. I shall be stronger in a few minutes. I am weaker than I thought I was. Now, about the ring. You gave it to me, Hugo, to keep. But it was stolen by Bill, the Slugger. When I wouldn’t give it to him, he shot me. That is all I remember. He must have taken it from my pocket.”
“A cry from Zell startled them. The girl was standing before the missionary with an expression of great fear upon her face.
“What is the matter, dear?” Marion asked, going to her side.
“It was Bill who killed Bill Haines and his wife,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “Tim told me so. But don’t let Bill know that I told you, or he will kill me.”
“Don’t you worry about that, girl,” Hugo replied. “Bill won’t touch you. He’ll have all that he can attend to without meddling with you.”
Just at that moment the door suddenly opened and Kate entered. She was unusually excited, and the expression upon her face was one of great joy. She crossed the room and stood before the missionary.
“Injun come,” she said. “More bimeby.”
“I know it, Kate,” was the quiet reply. “The Lord told me that they were coming. Heat the church and ring the bell at service time.”
​“Church warm, Gikhi. Kate no let fire go out.”
“What! did you keep the fire going?” Mr. Norris asked in surprise.
“Ah, ah, Kate keep church warm.”
“Why? I didn’t tell you to do that.”
“Gikhi pray for Injun, eh? Gikhi pray Injun come bimeby?”
“Yes, Kate, I always prayed that the Indians might return some day.”
“Ah, ah, good,” and the woman’s face beamed with pleasure. “Kate know Lord hear Gikhi. Kate have church warm when Injun come.”
Impulsively the missionary reached out and caught Kate’s rough hand in his. There were tears in his eyes, and he was deeply impressed by this woman’s remarkable faith and unswerving devotion.
“God bless you, Kate,” he murmured. “Your faith is wonderful.”
Marion’s eyes were misty as she stood silently witnessing this moving scene. Even Hugo and the doctor were deeply affected. They turned away, that their emotion might not be noted. But with Zell it was different. She dropped upon her knees before the missionary, caught his disengaged hand in hers and pressed it to her lips. She uttered no sound, but her action was more eloquent than words, and the missionary understood and was glad.