Sergeant Dick of the Royal Mounted Police A thrilling story of the Canadian woods
“Just as you like, sergeant. Very well, let it be the western wall.”
Sergeant Dick, hugging the keg of gunpowder under his left arm,
dropped on his knees and crawled round the farther end of the
tiller-screen. His head was below the level of the verandah, and so
he was hidden from the fierce, watching eyes at the “castle”
loopholes.
Wriggling noiselessly and cautiously over the scow’s bulwark, he
stepped on to the cross-timbering between the piles supporting the
verandah, and the next moment he had dodged through the open gate,
by which the three Mrs. Arnolds had come out in the canoe, and was
under the verandah.
The canoe was alongside the gate, but tied to the stern of the scow.
He stepped into it and cast off the painter; then, leaving the
paddles lying where they were in the canoe at his feet, he
soundlessly began to work the canoe along the inside of the piles by
shifting his hands along the timbering.
In this way he worked himself under the house itself and over to the
west side. He set the little keg against one of the piles supporting
the western wall, immediately between the two bedrooms on that
side--Aaron’s and Abel’s, as it happened. The keg fitted neatly in
the crook formed by the pile and a cross-brace.
Then he struck a match softly and lighted the candle in the
bunghole, immediately hurrying back diagonally in the canoe the way
he had come, for the gate.
He gained the opening and wriggled noiselessly back over the bulwark
of the scow. That the candle-fuse was still burning all right he
could see through the piles.
The next moment he was behind the tiller-screen and safe inside the
after-cabin, where, on hearing his report that the mine was set,
Inspector Medhurst at once gave orders for the ark to be thrust off
from the verandah. She had been hooked on to the piles with
boathooks, that was all, and the current, flowing southward, at once
began to drift her away from “Water Castle” back towards the gate of
the outer palisading or “dockyard.”
Sergeant Dick saw that none of the prisoners were in the
after-cabin, and concluded that they had all been kept from the
windows and in ignorance of what had been done.
Then it came--a great blinding, lurid flash, round and under the
house, a deafening bang! Bits of the roof and fragments of the
shattered wall and floor of the “castle” hurtled into the air and
fell splashing into the water around.
“Round to the side blown in, quick, men!” yelled Inspector Medhurst,
while all the women in the fore-cabin screamed in terror, to know
what had happened.
The troopers at the windows told them, and the three Mrs. Arnolds
indulged in the vilest abuse of Inspector Medhurst, Sergeant Dick,
and all the Royal Mounted Police in Canada.
Paying no heed to the vituperation, the police-troopers under their
two officers sailed the ark hurriedly past the verandah to the west
side, where they beheld a great gaping hole blown in the wall of the
“castle.” The hole showed the partition between the two bedrooms and
their communicating door, and was high enough and wide enough on
either side of it to allow of two horsemen riding through abreast.
A dense cloud of smoke was still pouring from the two rooms exposed,
and part of the flooring was gone, along with the piles and
cross-bracing that had supported it; so that, though the holes into
the bedrooms were so large, the aforesaid two horsemen would have
found it difficult to find any footing, to get inside.
But the police-troopers made nothing of such a difficulty. As
Sergeant Dick ran the ark close up against the shattered wall, they
all swarmed out of the after-cabin door beside him, revolvers in
hand. Then, led by him and Inspector Medhurst, they crowded to the
bulwark immediately opposite the gap, like bluejackets boarding an
enemy ship. Sergeant Dick headed the intrusion into Aaron’s bedroom,
the inspector that into Abel’s.
All the women, of course, had been shut up, without arms, in the
fore-cabin of the ark--locked inside it so that they could not get
out and interfere in any way.
As Sergeant Dick sprang through the hole in the wall the door in
front of him, leading into the central passage, was thrown open, and
the three Arnolds appeared, reeling like drunken men under the
unexpected shock of the shattering of their stronghold, and mad with
fury and despair.
Each of them gripped an automatic in either hand and looked more
like a demon than a human being, in the semi-gloom and dusty fog of
the place.
Sergeant Dick promptly flung himself on his knees. Simultaneously
all six weapons in front of him spoke rapidly, and the bullets went
whizzing over his head.
As by a miracle, none of the troopers behind him was struck down.
None, as it happened, was just in the line of fire, and, hurriedly
ducking and dodging to one side, they pelted back a quick return
fire, while Dick slipped swiftly to one side, dived out of the way
like a cat or some wild thing.
There were two ringing screams, and Aaron and Abel fell heavily
against their father, throwing the old man down. Then with a rush,
the police under Dick disarmed and seized the trio. Sergeant Dick
had not fired a shot--had had no need to--and he was glad in his
heart that he had not been obliged to do so, on Muriel’s account.
He did not wish to have the blood of any of her relatives on his
hands, even though shed in fair fight and in defense of law and
order.
Inspector Medhurst and those following came flocking through the
intervening door. But their aid was unnecessary. Aaron and Abel had
both been shot dead, and Old Man Arnold was dying.
“Inspector Medhurst, I would tell you something before I go,” Old
Alf exclaimed, with difficulty. “The girl Muriel is--is not my niece
at all, but--but your daughter. She is no relation of mine. You
believed your wife and child were killed by redskins. They were not.
It was I who stopped them, I and--and--Bud--I mean several others.
Your wife resisted us, and--and I shot her; and then we threw her
body over the cataract, and some of the others wanted to throw the
child after the mother. But my wife wouldn’t hear of that. Yes, she
was there--I’ve let it out now--but her saving the life of your
child should speak for her. She said she would adopt the
child--pretend it was my sister’s child, and we threw the little
thing’s hat and shawl after its mother, to make you believe it was
in the river too.”
“Great heavens! Is this true? Your supposed niece, my daughter--my
little Agnes?” cried Medhurst, staggered by the revelation, as well
he might be.
“It’s the gospel’s own truth, as I am a dying man, Medhurst,”
groaned the old bandit chief.
The next moment he had breathed his last.
His wife readily admitted that Muriel was Medhurst’s daughter, on
learning of her husband’s disclosure, and that he was dead and her
two eldest sons the same. The meeting between father and daughter we
shall not attempt to describe, beyond saying that both were too
stunned and affected by the dreadful happenings of the last hour,
their grim surroundings, to be very demonstrative. Indeed, Muriel
seemed too stunned by the news to quite grasp its import.
So the dreaded White Hood Gang was no more--broken and rounded up to
its very last member. The difficulty of bringing home any actual
murder or atrocity to the prisoners, as none of them turned King’s
evidence, resulted in their all escaping the death penalty and
receiving various terms of imprisonment instead.
Amos and Abner, however, within three months of their sentence,
attempted to break jail and were both mortally wounded by their
armed guards. As for “Bud,” or Bill, Seymour and Aunt Kate, they
both died in prison.
Eighteen months after Muriel or Agnes Medhurst had been restored to
her father, she was led to the altar-rails in the little backwoods
church of Paquita Springs by Inspector John Dick, for he was
sergeant no longer, having been promoted to control of a
far-stretching territory adjoining Lonewater for the prominent part
he had taken in the detection and rounding-up of the dreaded White
Hoods.
As for Jenny Arnold--the poor, innocent half-witted daughter and
sister of that evil family--Muriel or Agnes Medhurst had taken her
under her wing from the hour which witnessed the capture and ruin of
the stronghold on the lake, their joint home up to that hour. And
the two girls were not parted by Agnes’s marriage; Jenny went to
live with the married pair, and was as a sister to them both, under
their roof.
The End
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SEA STORIES FOR BOYS
By JOHN GABRIEL ROWE
Large 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Colored jacket
Price per volume, $1.00 Net
Every boy who knows the lure of exploring and who loves to rig up huts
and caves and tree-houses to fortify himself against imaginary enemies
will enjoy these books, for they give a vivid chronicle of the doings
and inventions of a group of boys who are shipwrecked and have to make
themselves snug and safe in tropical islands where the dangers are too
real for play.
1. CRUSOE ISLAND
Dick, Alf and Fred find themselves stranded on an unknown island with
the old seaman Josh, their ship destroyed by fire, their friends lost.
2. THE ISLAND TREASURE
With much ingenuity these boys fit themselves into the wild life of the
island they are cast upon in storm.
3. THE MYSTERY OF THE DERELICT
Their ship and companions perished in tempest at sea, the boys are
adrift in a small open boat when they spy a ship. Such a strange
vessel!--no hand guiding it, no soul on board,--a derelict.
4. THE LIGHTSHIP PIRATES
Modern Pirates, with the ferocity of beasts, attack a lightship
crew;--recounting the adventures that befall the survivors of that
crew,--and--“RETRIBUTION.”
5. THE SECRET OF THE GOLDEN IDOL
Telling of a mutiny, and how two youngsters were unwillingly involved in
one of the weirdest of treasure hunts,--and--“THE GOLDEN FETISH.”
Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers--New York
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE KING OF THE MOUNTAINS
(Le Roi des Montagnes)
By EDMOND ABOUT
Translated by Florence Crewe-Jones
Illustrated by George Avison
12mo. Illustrated. Beautiful cloth binding, stamped in gold. Jacket in
colors. Price $1.50 Net
Edmond About’s classic masterpiece of whimsical humor, romantic action
and wild surroundings, appeals to all classes and ages of readers. The
lawless, happy-go-lucky bands of the Grecian mountains, bargaining with
prisoners and government officials in a kind of uncivilized traffic,
affords the uncertainty in adventure which makes delightful reading for
boy or man.
Hadji Stavros is the never-to-be-forgotten representative of the right
to get without limits. To him the only injustice or error in life was in
being weak, in which any unselfishness was weakness. And yet, he allowed
his love for his daughter to overthrow his system of life. To be
entertained by “The King of the Mountains” as a dramatic story is not
enough, it is a profound study of character and life.
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers--New York
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TOM MARTIN
THE BREAKER BOY
By R. P. PHELPS
Illustrated by Howard L. Hastings.
Large 12mo.
Beautifully bound in cloth, stamped in gold, jacket in full colors.
Price $1.50 Net.
Tom Martin is the story of a boy’s struggle to make the best of life,
though in the worst of circumstances. His experience has the interest of
a boy who had been lost to his family from babyhood and was brought up
in the hardships and abuse of a shiftless miner’s household. But he