The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1912-07-07

mingling among the people at the sta
ton. MacCregor had as much as told
him that whatever unusual thing might
develop depended entirely upon the sp-
oearance of the woman and he began
| to look for her. She was not at the
station. Twice he walked through the
coaches of his train without discovering
face that resembled that in the photo
graph.
II was late when he arrived at Eto-
| mani, where the sixty-mile line of the
Hudson's Bay Railroad branches off to
the north. At dawn he entered the ca
boose of the work train. which was to
take him up through the wilderness to
LIE Pas. He was the only passenger.
There amt even hand-car gone
I'D ahead of u.s." informed the brake
man in response to his inquiry. This
is the only train in FIVE days"
After all, it was to be tame affair,
in spite of the inspectors uneasiness
and warnings, thought Philip. The
woman was not ahead of him. Two
days before she had been in MacGreg-
or's Office, and under the circumstances
it was impossible for her to be at lie
Pas or at Wekusko, unless she had
travelled steadily on dog sledge. Philip
swore softly to himself in his disap-
pointnent, ate breakfast with the train
gang, went to sleep, and awoke when
they plowed their way into the snow
snothered outpost on the Saskatche-
wan
The brakeman handed him letter.
This came on the lie Pas mail, he
explained. II kept it out for you in
stead of sending il to the Office
Thank you," said Philip. "A spe-
cial-from headquarters. Why in thun-
der didn't they send me messenger IN.
stead of a letter, Braly? They could
have caught me on the train"
He tore open the departmental en-
velope as he spoke and drew forth a
bit of folded paper. 1t was not the Of
fetal letter-head, but at glance Philip
| recognized the inspectors scrswling
writing and his signature 1t was one
of MacGregor's quiet boasts that the
men did not live who could forge his
name.
An astonished whistle broke from
his lips as he read these few lines:
Follow your conscience, whatever
YOU do. Both God and man will re-
ward you in the end:
And this was all. There was no
date, no word of explanation; even his
own name had been omitted from this
second order. He picked up the envel..
ope which had fallen 10 the floor and
looked at the postulark. 1t had been
! stamped go 1t was after tve, an
hour later, that he had received his yer
bal instructions from MacGregor! The
inspector must have written the note
before their interview of the preceding
afternoon-before his repeated inJunc-
ton of Whatever happens, bring back
YOUR prisoner But this letter was
evidently intended as final instructions
since it had been sent so as to reach
him at this time. What did IT mean!
The question buzzed in Philips brain,
repeated itself twenty times. fifty times,
as he hurried through the gathering
darkness of the senii-polar night toward
the log hotel of the place. He was CON-
WINGED that there was some hidden mo-
tive in the INSPECTORS actions. What
was he to understand?
Suddenly he stopped, hundred YARDS
from the glimmering lights OF the Little
Saskatchewan Hotel, and chuckled aud
IDLY as he stuffed his pipe. 1t flashed
upon him now why MacGregor had
chosen him instead of an ordinary ser
vice man to bring down the prisoner
from Wekusko MacGregor knew that
he, Philip Steele, college man and man
of the world. would reason out the key
to this little puzzle, whereas Sergt.
Moody and others of his type would
turn back for explanations. And In
spector MacGregor, twenty years in the
service, and recognized as the shrewd-
est man-hunter between the coasts.
wished to give no explanation. Philips
blood tingled with fresh excitement as
the tremendous risk which the inspect
or himself was running, dawned upon
him. Publicity of the note which he
held in his hand would mean the dis
grace and retirement even OF Felix
MacGregoT.
He thrust the letter in his pocket and
hurried On. The lights of the settle
ment were already aglearl. From the
edge of the frozen river there came the
sound OF wheezy accordion in Chi
nese cafe, and the bowling Of dog,
either struck by man or worsted IN
fight Where the more numerous lights
OF the one street shone red against the
black background of the forest, a
drunken ha1f-breed was chanting in
half Cree, half-French, the chorus of
the caribou song. He heard the distant
swapping of whip, the yelping response
of huskies, and moment later sledge
and six dogs passed him so close that
he was compelled to leap from their
path. This was lie Pas-the wilder
nessl Beyond it. just over the frozen
river which lay white and silent before
him. stretched that endless desolation
of romance and mystery which he had
grown to love, a world of deep SHOWS,
of silent-tongued men, of hardship and
battle for life where the law of nature
was the survival of the httest, and that
Of man, DO unto others as We would
that they should do unto you" Never
did Philip Steele's heart throb with the
Wild, free pulse of life and joy as in
stfeh moments as these, when his for
tune, his clubs, and his friends were a
thousand miles away. and he stood on
the edge of the big northern Unknown.
As he had slept through the train
mems dinner hour, he was as hungry
as wolf, and he lost no time in seat
ing himself in a warm corner of the
low. log-ceilinged dining-room of the
Little Saskatchewan. Although quar-
ter of an hour early, he had hardly
placed himself at his table when anoth-
er person entered the room. Casually
he glanced up from the two letters
which he had spread out before him.
The one who had followed him was a
woman. She had turned sharply upon