Long Patrol

A. Cody H.

Description

Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer Norman Grey has been given a tough assignment -- he has to scour the remote countryside looking for clues in the disappearance of a young boy who is believed to have been kidnapped by a tribe of indigenous people. Will Grey be able to pick up the trail in time, or is his mission a fool's errand?

Sujets

• Westerns
• Western (genre)
• Western

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 mai 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776587797
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE LONG PATROL
A TALE OF THE MOUNTED POLICE
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H. A. CODY
 
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The Long Patrol A Tale of the Mounted Police First published in 1912 Epub ISBN 978-1-77658-779-7 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77658-780-3 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - Unleashed Chapter II - The Terror of the Mountains Chapter III - A Child in the Midst Chapter IV - The Shadowing Horseman Chapter V - The Fur Trader's Store Chapter VI - The Den of Plotters Chapter VII - Buckskin Dan Chapter VIII - The Intruder Chapter IX - Undercurrents Chapter X - Subtle Ways Chapter XI - The Capture Chapter XII - Links of Steel Chapter XIII - The Trailing Serpent Chapter XIV - In the Deep of the Night Chapter XV - A Cry Across the Water Chapter XVI - The Signal Fire Chapter XVII - In Pursuit Chapter XVIII - The Cruel Trail Chapter XIX - The Venom of Hatred Chapter XX - Out of the Depths Chapter XXI - Strategy Chapter XXII - At Bay Chapter XXIII - The Haven Chapter XXIV - The Mediator Chapter XXV - The Heart of a Woman Chapter XXVI - Within the Deep Shadow Chapter XXVII - The Cost Chapter XXVIII - The Lifted Veil Chapter XXIX - Strength from the Hills Chapter XXX - Upholding the Law Chapter XXXI - Old Trails and New
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TO THAT NOBLE BODY OF MEN, THE ROYAL NORTH WEST MOUNTED POLICE, THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY ONE, WHO FOR SEVERAL YEARS LIVED AMONG THEM AND SHARED THEIR HOSPITALITY IN THE FAR-FLUNG CANADIAN NORTHLAND.
Chapter I - Unleashed
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"Is Grey—Norman Grey—here?"
The Orderly paused on the threshold and looked around the room.
"Over there," replied a constable, jerking his thumb to the left, "inthe corner."
At once the Orderly strode forward to the side of a young man leaningagainst the Canteen bar.
"Say, Grey, the O. C. wants you."
At these words the man addressed straightened himself up to his fullheight of six feet with a sudden jerk, while his dark piercing eyesflashed questioningly from beneath the broad brim of his Stetson hat. Adeep silence now pervaded the room; the poker chips ceased their rattle;the rustling of the newspapers stopped; the man behind the bar stayedhis hand in the act of pouring a glass of ginger beer, and even pipeswere allowed to go out.
It was the quiet after supper hour in the Big Glen Barracks of the "X"Division of the North West Mounted Police, in the far-flung NorthernYukon Territory, and the work of the day was done. The few prisonershad been marched silently back to their lonely cells in the stout logguard room; the flag had fluttered slowly down from its tall staff inthe centre of the big Square; the bugle had rent the air with itsquivering notes, and the guards had been changed. Everything had beendone speedily and systematically. It was the daily routine. Each manknew his duty, and did it.
The Canteen was the regular place of meeting, and here a score ofconstables and corporals, tested guardians of a lone land, weregathered, to drink the customary glass of ale or beer, read thenewspapers, discuss the affairs of the day, and play a few friendlygames of cards. The click of billiard balls in the adjoining room couldbe distinctly heard, whilst from the open door of the Sergeants' Messcame the sweet strains of a violin.
"Where's the O. C. now? In the office?" It was Grey's voice which brokethe silence as he looked hard at the Orderly.
"No, he's in his house. You had better hustle."
Grey glanced down at his clothes. He was dressed as he had come offguard of the prisoners. A belt filled with cartridges encircled hiswaist, and his revolver sheathed in its leathern holster hung at hiship. His appearance at that moment was sufficient to win both respectand admiration from the most indifferent. Of this his companions werenot thinking, but of that summons to meet the Commanding Officer. Welldid they know the startling news which was agitating this northern town,causing strong men's eyes to moisten, and mothers to clasp theirchildren closer in their arms. Had not prominent citizens hurried in andout of the O. C.'s office all the afternoon, and did not the air hangheavy with expectancy as to what move would be made and who would bechosen for the difficult undertaking? Now it was no longer uncertain.Grey was the first to be called, and all realised that the choice hadbeen a good one.
"Grey's got a difficult job ahead of him," remarked a tall, slimconstable after the former had left the room.
"He's the man for it, though," replied another, deliberately sipping hisbeer.
"He'll do the job if anyone can, for he fears neither man nor devil.Don't you remember how he stood up before 'Twisty' Parker and his gangin Big Gulch Road House, cowed the whole bunch, and got his man?"
"Indeed I do, but that was nothing to the way he ran down "One-eyed"Henry, the Swede, who murdered his partner at Five Fingers. He walkedright up to the revolver's point when it was spitting fire like hell,knocked the Swede down and took him alive. The murderer afterwardsacknowledged that it was Grey's coolness, and the terrible gleam ofdetermination in his eyes which unnerved him and made his hand shake asif he had the palsy."
Grey in the meantime had crossed the Barracks Square, and was admittedby a quiet, passionless-eyed Jap into the presence of his CommandingOfficer. Giving the customary salute he stood at attention, and awaitedorders.
Major Sterling was sitting at his desk when Grey entered, with his eyesfixed upon a map lying before him. Pacing up and down the room was asmall, middle-aged man whose agony of face and excited manner plainlybespoke the agitated state of his mind.
"Major, find my boy," he was saying. "Spare no pains or money in yourefforts to run those villains down. They hate me, and have sworn to haverevenge. They demand twenty thousand dollars. Think of it, twentythousand dollars! They threaten the life of my child if it's not paid!Oh, God, help me! I can't pay it, and I won't. But I want my boy, myonly child, Donnie. Major, for the sake of a heart-broken father andmother; for the honour of this town, and for the welfare of humanity,capture those scoundrels and save my boy."
In reply to this passionate appeal the Major swung around in his chairand faced the troubled man.
"Mr. Farwell," he began, "the best answer I can give you stands there inthe person of Constable Grey. Leave the matter to us. We will do thebest we can."
"Thank you, sir; oh, thank you," cried Mr. Farwell, seizing the Major'shand and wringing it vehemently. "I know you will do what you can. Ishall go now, but you will keep me informed, will you not?"
"Yes," replied the Major, rising and opening the door. "You shall bekept acquainted with every move. Remember, Mr. Farwell, I am a father aswell as an officer, and what more can I say?"
When the door had closed behind his visitor the Major returned to hisdesk, and remained for a while lost in thought. He was a stern manoutwardly, and ruled with a firm hand. Unbending in the line of duty hecombined rigid discipline with discriminating justice. Neither position,money, nor threats availed in the slightest degree to swerve him onehair's breadth from a purpose he knew to be right. Major Sterling was anautocrat on this ragged edge of civilisation, and yet an autocrat whoseevery heart beat was for the honour of his country and for the welfareof the people committed to his charge. Relentless as a sleuth hound incrushing down crime and tyranny he was feared and respected by bothwhites and Indians alike.
"Grey," he at length remarked, turning toward the constable andmotioning him to a chair, "sit down; we've important business onto-night."
The Major's voice had lost much of its old-time sternness, and Grey wasmore than astonished at this unexpected order. Never before had he takena seat in the presence of his Superior Officer. To do so was a severebreach of discipline. He advanced a step, and hesitated.
"This chair, Grey," and a slight smile illumined the Major's face as henoted his subordinate's embarrassment. "There, that's better," hecontinued, turning his attention once again to the map lying on hisdesk. With a pencil in his hand he traced a course from Big Glen outover the land away eastward toward the Rocky Mountains. At times hepaused, and his brow knitted in perplexity. At length, however, thepencil rested upon a spot where a crooked stream was marked upon themap. Everything else was a complete blank, no name of town or villageappearing. Here the Major made a small circle, and wrote over it the oneword "Hishu."
"See, Grey," and he held up the map, "I want you to go there."
The constable started at these words, and glanced keenly at the pencilmark. His interest now was thoroughly aroused. For years that region hada strange fascination for his daring spirit. Indians had relatedmarvellous tales of what the place contained: rivers foaming, rushing,and plunging into dark mysterious depths; monsters living in themountains, their roars shaking the earth, and belching fire and rocksfrom their terrible mouths. There were tribes, too, so they said,horrible and bloodthirsty, with hair, filled with knives, hanging totheir waists. At times the Indians about Big Glen had come trembling tothe Police for protection. Those tribes from their mountain fastnesses,so they believed, were about to sweep down and wipe them out ofexistence. The Police had always succeeded, however, in allaying theirfears, and upon investigation fo