Carmen's Messenger

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by Harold Bindloss


  IV

  THE FIRST ADVENTURE

  It was about ten o'clock at night and the Montreal express sped throughthe lonely forest of North Ontario. The train was light, for therewere few passengers on board, and the road was by no means good, but inspite of the jolting Foster enjoyed his cigarette in a corner of thesmoking compartment at the end of a car. A colored porter had told himhis berth in the sleeper was ready, Featherstone had left the train,and most of the passengers were already in bed, but Foster did not wantto follow them just yet. For a time, he had done with business, andwas on his way to England. He relished the unusual sense of freedom.

  A half-moon shone down upon the rugged wilderness, and he could see theblack pines rush past. The cars lurched and he heard the greatlocomotive snort on the inclines. Now and then there was a roar asthey sped across a bridge, and water glimmered among the rocks below;afterwards the roar sank into a steady clatter and a soothing throb ofwheels. The car was warm, and Foster, who had given the porter hisovercoat, was lighting another cigarette when a man came in and satdown opposite. He looked hard at Foster, who quietly returned hisgaze. The man was about his own height but some years older, and hisexpression was disturbed.

  Foster felt interested. He had faced danger in the northernwilderness, where he had risked starvation and traveled on frozenrivers when the ice was breaking up. Besides, he had once or twicebeen involved in savage fights about disputed mining claims, and knewhow men looked when they bore a heavy strain. He thought the strangerwas afraid but was not a coward.

  "You're going to Ottawa, aren't you? I heard you talking to yourfriend," said the man.

  "I'm going to Montreal, but don't see what that has to do with you."

  The other made a sign of impatience. "Well, I dare say you can betrusted, and I've got to take a risk."

  "It is a risk to trust a man you don't know," Foster rejoined. "Buthow can I help?"

  "I want you to put on my coat and cap, and stay here, reading the_Witness_, for about ten minutes."

  "Holding the newspaper in front of my face, I suppose? Well, it'srather an unusual request and I must know a little more. If there's adetective on your trail and you expect me to hold his attention whileyou hide or try to jump off the train, I must refuse."

  The stranger smiled. "I've wired for the police to meet me at Ottawa;the trouble is that I mayn't get there. Time won't allow of a longexplanation, but there are men on board who'd stop at nothing toprevent my arrival. In fact, to some extent, I'm putting my life inyour hands."

  Foster looked at him, surprised. He had not expected an adventure ofthis kind on a Canadian Pacific train, but did not think the other wasexaggerating.

  "How many men?" he asked.

  "I've seen one, but know there are more."

  "Then why not tell the conductor and have the train searched?"

  "It wouldn't work. I might find one enemy, but I'd warn the othersthat I was on my guard, and to let them think I suspect no danger isthe best chance I have. The conductor's making his way up the train,and I'm going to see if he can get me into the express car. It's theonly safe place; the clerks are armed. Well, my business is lawful andin the public interest, and I take it you're a patriotic citizen."

  Foster saw that he must decide quickly. Somehow he did not doubt theman, who kept his eyes on the door as if he expected somebody to comein. Moreover, he expected to be met by the police at Ottawa.

  "It looks as if I'd run your risk when I put on your coat," he said.

  "The porter's sweeping up the car, and if you keep the door open,you'll be safe while he's about. Besides, if I can't get into theexpress car, I'll come back. Give me ten minutes, and then, if I don'tturn up and you feel uneasy, take off the coat and put the newspaperdown."

  "Very well," said Foster. "Perhaps you had better take my hat."

  The stranger gave him his heavy fur coat. "I'll ask you for it atOttawa. You're going to Montreal. What's your name?"

  Foster told him and he resumed: "Then, if you don't see me, stop at the_Windsor_, where I can telegraph, a day or two. You'll be repaid forany expense or inconvenience. Well, I'm going. Thanks!"

  "Good luck!" said Foster, who sat down and opened the _Witness_.

  Now he was alone, he began to wonder if he had been imposed upon. Theman, however, did not look like a criminal; though alarmed, he had anair of quiet authority. In a sense, it seemed absurd that he shouldthink himself in danger. Violence was not common in Canada, where thecarrying of weapons was prohibited, and Foster had never heard of anysensational crime on the big expresses. Still he thought the man wouldnot be afraid without good cause. He did not look like a detective,and Foster felt nearly sure he had not got on board at the Crossing.This seemed to indicate that he could not have been investigating thetragedy there, particularly since Hulton had only recovered from theshock a few days ago. Then Hulton had stated that he meant to send fora New York man, and not that he had done so. The fellow, however,might be a confidential agent of the Government's, who had perhapsfound out something about certain mysterious attempts to damage publicproperty.

  By and by Foster smiled. Carmen had given him a valuable packet totake care of, and now this stranger had asked his help. Both hadstated their confidence in him, but it was getting obvious that to lookas if one could be trusted had its drawbacks. He did not feel muchdisturbed as he read the newspaper, which reported the arrest of twostrangers with dynamite cartridges near the locks of a big canal, butpresently put it down and glanced at his watch. The ten minutes hadnearly gone and he looked out of the window. A frozen lake shimmeredat the edge of the track and then, with a harsh uproar, the trainplunged into the shadow of a cliff. On the summit stunted pines cutagainst the sky, and Foster knew they ran from the Manitoban border tothe Ottawa across as rugged and stony a wilderness as there is in theDominion. The stations were small and sometimes only places where thelocomotives stopped for water. He could not remember when they hadpassed the last.

  Looking at his watch again, he saw that he had kept his promise, butdecided to give the man a few more minutes, and then go to his berth,unless he could learn something about him from the conductor. Theberth was in the Pullman farther along the train, and after walkingthrough the empty car he opened the door of a vestibule and stepped outon the platform. It was unprotected except for a brass rail at theside, which was divided in the middle where the steps went down. Thefloor jolted and a bitter wind that whistled between the vestibulesbuffeted him. Although he wore the fur coat, he shivered, and as hestepped across the gap between the platforms the door behind himrattled.

  Turning sharply round, he saw a man's dark figure in the shadow of thecurving roof, and felt his heart beat. Then the door he had beenmaking for swung back, and he knew he had another antagonist to dealwith. He carried no pistol and there was not much chance of a shoutfor help being heard, but he did not wait to be attacked, and with asudden spring threw himself upon the man in front. He felt hisknuckles jar and heard the fellow's head crash against the vestibule,but the other seized him as he turned. Foster surmised that theyfeared the report of a pistol but might use the knife, and determinedto throw the fellow down the steps. If this proved impossible, he musttry to jump off the train.

  So far as he could remember, the savage struggle only lasted a fewmoments. His assailant had apparently not room enough to draw a weaponand Foster kept his grip on him, so that he could not free his rightarm, although this left his own face exposed. He was breathless andexhausted when he fell against the rail, but with a tense effort helifted the fellow off his feet. Since there seemed to be no other way,they must both fall off the train. He lost his balance and his footslipping from the top step threw him backward. Then he missed the railhe clutched at and felt a heavy shock.

  When his senses came back he found that he was lying on hard-frozenground. There were dark firs about, but, a little farther on, therails glistened in the moonlight, and he dully rea
lized that he hadfallen off the car. A faint snorting and a rumble that echoed acrossthe forest showed that the train was going on. Foster lay still andlistened until the sound died away. It looked as if nobody but the menwho had attacked him knew there had been a struggle and he was leftbehind. Then he cautiously raised his head and leaning on his elbowlooked about. It was a relief to find that he could do so, but he mustsee if his antagonist had fallen off with him, because if the fellowwas not badly hurt he might renew the attack.

  There was nothing in the shadow beside the line, the gap where therails ran into the moonlight was empty, and everything was still,except for the sigh of the cold breeze among the firs. For all that,Foster hesitated about getting up. The train was probably going atforty miles an hour, the ground was hard, and he might find that somebones were broken when he tried to move. The shock had perhaps dulledhis senses and prevented his feeling much pain. It was, however,bitterly cold, and making an effort he got shakily upon his feet. Tohis surprise, he discovered that he was not much the worse although hefelt sore and dizzy, and he sat down on a fallen branch to think whathe should do.

  The next station was probably only marked by an agent's office and awater-tank. Besides, his antagonists might get down there and comeback to look for him, in which case he would be at their mercy if theymet. It was a long way to the station they had passed, but he thoughtthe safest plan would be to make for it. This meant a walk of somehours, with nothing to eat on the way, but a train from Winnipeg wouldstop early in the morning, and the others would not expect him toresume his journey east. If they had found out their mistake, theywould take it for granted that he was a confederate of the man theyfollowed and most likely calculate on his trying to reach the newCanadian Northern line. Foster felt angry with the fellow who hadlured him into the adventure and resolved to extricate himself from itas soon as possible.

  Getting up, he started west along the track, and after a time foundhimself embarrassed by the fur coat. It was heavy and too warm, but hewould need it when he stopped. Then he wore thin city boots, and thetrack, as usual, was roughly ballasted with coarse gravel. The stonesrolled about under his feet, and the ties were irregularly spaced, sothat he could not step from one to another except by an awkward stride.He went on, however, and by and by began to wonder where he could get adrink, for the struggle or the shock had made him thirsty.

  The big coat proved troublesome to carry when he took it off. After atime his feet got sore and he tried to walk in the shallow drain besidethe line, but this was filled with ice, on which he slipped. He hadtraveled by rougher trails and carried heavy loads, but that was someyears ago and he wore different boots and fastened on his pack byproper straps. Moreover, one got soft when leading a business life.

  By and by he heard the roar of water and pushing on faster came to afoaming creek that plunged down a stony ravine. A bridge crossed thegorge, and leaving the track he clambered down the rocky bank. Wherethe spray had fallen there were patches of ice, but Foster felt that hemust get a drink. When he was half-way down his foot slipped and heslid the rest of the distance, bringing up with a shock at the edge ofthe water, where he struck a projecting stone. He felt shaken, but gota drink, and when he began to climb back found that he had wrenched hisknee. Some movements were not painful, but when his weight came uponthe joint it hurt. He must get up, for all that, and reached the top,where he sat down with his lips firmly set, and after putting on thecoat felt in the pocket for a cigarette.

  The case he took out was not his, and he remembered that he was wearinganother man's coat. The cigarettes were of Turkish tobacco, which isnot much used in Canada, and he thought the quality remarkably good.This seemed to imply that their owner had a cultivated taste, andFoster began to wonder whether he was after all not a business manrunning away from his creditors, but rejected the theory. It wasstrange that although the cigarettes were expensive the case was of thekind sold in Western stores for fifty cents, but Foster presently gaveup speculating about the man.

  The moon was getting low and ragged pine branches cut against thelight. The track was wrapped in shadow that was only a little lessdense than the gloom of the surrounding bush. It was not really coldfor North Ontario, but the fur coat was hardly enough protection tomake a bed in the open air comfortable. Foster had slept in theAthabasca forests when the thermometer marked forty degrees below zero,but he then wore different clothes and had been able to make a roaringfire and build a snow-bank between him and the wind. Moreover, he wasstill liable to be overtaken by the men on the train.

  Getting up, he found his knee sore and stiff, but limped on for an houror two after the moon sank. He seemed to be stumbling along the bottomof a dark trench, for the firs shut him in like a wall and there wasonly an elusive glimmer of light above their serrated tops. He did notexpect to find a house until he reached the station, for much of NorthOntario is a wilderness where the trees are too small for milling andagriculture is impossible among the rocks. To make things worse, hefelt hungry. The train had stopped at about seven o'clock at adesolate station where the passengers were given a few minutes to getsupper, but Foster's portion was too hot for him to eat. He tried toencourage himself by remembering that he had once marched three hundredmiles across the snow with a badly frozen foot, but this did not makehis present exertion easier.

  As he got hungry he got angry. He had gone away to enjoy himself, andthis was how his holiday had begun! The Government agent, if that waswhat he was, ought not to have dragged a confiding stranger into hisdifficulties. He was now safe in the express car and chuckling overthe troubles he had left his substitute to face. Then Foster tried toremember if he had left any papers with his address in his overcoat anddecided that he had not done so. His wallet was now in his jacketpocket. This was satisfactory, because he meant to have nothing moreto do with the matter. Tying the fur coat round his waist to take someof the weight off his shoulders, he trudged on as briskly as he couldthrough the gloom.

 

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