Sergeant Dick of the Royal Mounted Police A thrilling story of the Canadian woods
“Ay, ay, Squatter! They are all here, quite safe--none the worse,
any of them,” called back Dick, merrily, adding with a light laugh,
“Can’t you hear your sons cussing because they’ve been cheated by
Amos of having a last smack at the redskins?”
“Ay, ay, we’re here, and all on us all right, dad,” shouted Abel,
the eldest of the sons, turning from the window to clasp his wife
Bella in his arms and exchange mutual gratulations with her.
Aaron--the second and other married brother--greeted _his_ wife
Deborah in like manner; while Abner, the youngest of the four sons,
restored Sergeant Dick his rifle in a sulky way, without so much as
a “Thank you.”
For that matter neither had he or either of the other two young
squatters in any way acknowledged the police-sergeant’s kindness in
setting them free. But their apparent ingratitude, or want of common
politeness, might be excused by their over-eagerness to have a slap
at their late captors.
With the dread enemy in full retreat to the shore, there was no need
for them to linger inside the ark; and they all now made a move
towards the bow-door, Abner and Amos bringing up the rear after
closing and fastening the loops on all the windows, and then locking
the fore door.
Muriel and her uncle and aunt came out of the “castle” on to the
verandah to greet them, and old man Arnold sent a parting shot with
his rifle in the direction of the Indians, who could be seen just
landing on the eastern shore, shadowy silhouettes against the less
dusky background.
As they all reëntered “Water Castle,” chattering and laughing like
so many magpies, Muriel and the sergeant fell to the rear, and
clasped hands silently but eloquently.
Muriel’s eyes shone brightly in the moonlight, and John Dick thought
he had never seen her look quite so lovely as in that silvery
radiance upon the white-bathed verandah with its clean-cut shadows.
Neither noticed how Abner, the youngest son, watched them with
scowling, jealous-distorted face and fiercely gleaming eyes.
“The painted rips’ll not come back ag’in,” declared old Alf,
decidedly. “We gev ’em their bellyful this last time, anyways. Ho,
ho! They don’t want another such gruelling, I’ll swar. Bust ’em!
They’ve sp’iled our front door, lads and lassies; but we’ll patch it
up just for to-night and make it all right, as good as ever,
to-morrow. Just see what you can do with it, Abel, Aaron, and Abner.
Amos and you girls, Muriel and Jenny, lend me a hand and help fix up
the drop-floor as it should be. Bella and Deb, mebbe you will aid
mother to get us all somethink to eat and drink, ’specially drink,
arter the hot and thirsty work we’ve had.”
“Can’t I be of any assistance?” asked Sergeant Dick.
“Ye’ve done more’n enough, I should say, sergeant, but ye can help
the gals and me and Amos to fix up the floor as ye’re such a glutton
for work.”
The old trapper or squatter and his daughter and niece and Amos got
down on their hands and knees upon the strip of flooring which had
remained in position when the rest of the floor dropped.
This strip, of course, was a mere ledge, only a couple of feet wide,
just inside the front door and bordering the front wall.
Pressing upon a board, each, the quartet caused it to slide partly
out of sight under the front wall, and disclosed a solid steel bar,
some four feet long and more than two inches in diameter, lying in
the cavity. Attached to the back of the steel bolts was a chain
which ran out of sight into an iron pipe under the board.
Opposite the other end of the bolt, in the thickness of the edge of
the portion of flooring which had dropped, was a socket, and Muriel
tried to push her bolt home in this.
The sergeant promptly insisted on saving her the trouble. He forced
the bolt inside the socket as far as it would go, then helped Jenny
to push hers home, what time old man Arnold and Amos had shot theirs
and gone on to a fifth and sixth, and the other three brothers were
fixing the dismantled outer door in place again by piling all manner
of things against it, including the armored tiller-screen from the
ark.
The drop-floor was still anything but quite firm under their feet,
even with the six great bolts shot, and the old man asked Sergeant
Dick to follow him through to the central passage and see him finish
fixing it.
Full of curiosity, the young police officer accompanied him to the
cupboard where the levers were, and the old man explained that, by
wrenching back one, all six bolts they had just shot were drawn out
simultaneously, but that the floor in the ordinary way would not
give until six more pivoted iron buttons, also hidden in the
flooring, were drawn aside.
A second lever contrived this, and a third would draw them back
again. This third lever was now pulled, while all in the living-room
were told to stand off the drop part of the floor. And then Arnold
went on to tell John Dick that he had contrived to raise the
trap-floor by means of yet a fourth lever, which dragged on a chain,
that always hung slacked under the house, attached to the edge of
the trap-floor and passing through a ring or socket in the
stationary part of the flooring opposite and round back to the
lever.
“By pulling on this ’ere fourth lever, then, you see, sergeant, the
trap-floor is raised and kin be held in place until we can fix up
all the reg’lar fastenings. Come now, let’s join the others ag’in,
and have somethink to eat and drink.”
“And I’ve got something to tell you all that will astonish you very
much, Squatter--something I discovered among the cliffs on the west
shore.”
CHAPTER XXIII--THE PLAN TO ROUND UP THE WHITE HOODS
Sergeant Dick did not notice the startled, anxious glance that old
Arnold gave him as they went back to the living-room. There they
found a substantial meal spread for them.
Ere they all sat down to it, some of their number took a look out
through the loops on all four sides of the house. The lake was still
bathed in moonlight, and not an Indian canoe or raft was to be seen
anywhere.
“Well, now, sergeant, what’s this astonishing news that you’ve got
to tell us?” asked the old squatter, with his mouth full. “What’s
this something that you said you had discovered among the cliffs on
the west shore, and which I presumes brought ye back so timely here
ag’in?”
His sons and their mother all started and exchanged covert, alarmed
glances, then eyed the young police officer keenly and by no means
favorably.
As it happened, he had his eyes bent upon his plate at the time, and
did not observe the strange, gloomy looks, which, after all, as
before, were most veiled.
“I’ve discovered the ‘duffing-den’ of the White Hoods, I believe,”
he quietly replied.
“What!”
And Amos Arnold sprang up, nearly upsetting his chair.
“Yes, I believe so,” said Sergeant Dick. And he went on to relate in
full his experiences of the previous night after his escape from the
Indian ambush; how he climbed the water-slide and found the
cup-shaped valley and saw several hundred head of cattle, sheep, and
horses grazing within it.
His companions listened in silence, Muriel and Jenny in breathless
interest. None interrupted him, the young men only contriving to
steal questioning glances at one another behind their mugs, and
particularly at their father.
Muriel and Jenny hung excitedly upon Dick’s every word; and when he
had told them all, the first-mentioned cried out:
“Oh, uncle--boys, what a grand discovery! It must be the outlaws’
secret duffing-den right enough. You and Sergeant Dick now can
capture the gang and claim the reward offered. What is it--five
hundred pounds, isn’t it?”
“I had instructions to increase the reward to a thousand pounds,”
said Dick.
“A thousand pounds; and not only that, but you will rid these parts
of these murderous robbers who have so long terrorized us. In fact,
I believe their plundering has helped to incite the Ogalcrees to
rebel and go on the warpath, for they, besides suffering heavily at
the gang’s hands, have been blamed for some of its misdeeds, as we
know.”
“Yes, yes,” chimed in Jenny. “It will be a grand thing for all round
here when those awful White Hoods are put down; the poor farmers and
ranchmen will sleep more easily in their beds. You will be doing
humanity a service, father--brothers--if you help the sergeant to
lay the gang by the heels.”
“We shall be doing ourselves a big sarvice, too, if we make a
thousand pounds over the job,” guffawed her father. “By thunder,
lads--mother, we’ll have a shot at it; we’ll help the sergeant to
capture these fellows. But only on one condition, sergeant, and that
is, that you let no one else into the secret; that we keep it to
ourselves. I don’t want no others to share the thousand quid, you
understand?”
“That’s so--that’s so,” cried his wife. “A thousand pounds divided
equally between six on you--the four lads, you Alf, and the sergeant
here, ain’t two hundred apiece. Lemme see, how much would it be? Six
into a thousand goes what, Muriel--Bella?”
“Oh, never mind, aunt. The reward is not ours yet to divide,” said
Muriel hastily, and blushing a deep crimson. “And don’t you think
that Sergeant Dick should have more than any one else, as he
discovered the gang’s lair?”
“Come, come, we won’t discuss that,” laughed Dick. “In any case it
will be for Government to apportion the reward. All right, Arnold,
we’ll keep it to ourselves, and you and the lads will help me to lay
these white-robed rustlers by the heels, as Jenny put it. Let me
see, they are supposed to number either nine or ten at full
strength.”
“That’s so. And we are six,” said Abel, the eldest son, “but then we
ought to catch ’em napping, and not in full strength.”
“When shall we make the attempt?” asked Aaron, the second son.
“We’ve evidently routed the redskins for good and all this time.
They’re not likely to give us any further trouble. And the sooner we
go the better, say I.”
And he exchanged a meaning glance with his father and mother.
“Oh, there’s no immediate hurry,” said Dick. “With the Ogalcrees out
on the warpath, the gang will be bound to lie snug and not try to
remove their stolen cattle and sheep for fear of being attacked on
the march by the Indians. Besides, it will be as well, first, to
make sure that the redmen have abandoned the siege here for good and
all. We don’t want them to attack the house in our absence while
only the ladies are here, nor attack us, for that matter, while
landing, as they did before--nor yet in the woods. A day more or
less can’t make any difference one way or the other as regards the
White Hoods, while it may mean a great deal as regards your home
here.”
“The sergeant is right,” observed Bella, Abel’s wife; and Deborah
and Muriel murmured approval. “And you all need a good night’s rest
before setting out on so risky an expedition.”
“Wait till to-morrow night,” said Muriel, “then we’ll know for
certain whether the Indians have abandoned the warpath, and we may
be able to send word to the soldiers at the nearest fort, if word
has not already gone there, of the rising.”
This was sensible advice, and it was unanimously agreed on; and,
shortly after, all declared for bed. The supper things were cleared
away; the living-room was divided off into three compartments by the
shabby curtains on the rods being drawn across, and a hammock slung
in each compartment for Amos, the sergeant, and Abner respectively.
All the others then retired to their bedrooms, and silence and
darkness speedily enwrapped the stronghold in the lake.
Sergeant Dick slept soundly in his hammock; but he was accustomed to
sleeping on a hair-trigger, as one might say, and from time to time
he awoke, rose, and went to the front door or the window on either