XXVII
THE MINE
When Foster was thinking of going to bed Pete, whom he had not seen allday, came into the rotunda, and Foster remarked that his boots werevery wet.
"It's saft ootside an' I've been paidlin' in the snow," he said and,with the poacher's instinctive caution, put his feet out of sightbeneath a table.
"Where have you been in the dark?" Foster asked.
"I thought I'd maybe better watch the bridge over yon bit creek."
Foster frowned. It looked as if he had not much talent for detectivework and could only concentrate upon one point at a time. While he hadbeen content to watch what was going on at the hotel, Pete had watchedthe bridge, and had found out something. Foster admitted that suchsuccess as he had had was rather due to luck than ability.
"Well," he said, "what did you see there?"
"To begin with, the man we followed cam' doon the street and went intoa shop; and I allooed they might keep something I wanted. He bought abasket."
"A basket?"
"Just that," said Pete. "One o' they cheap baskets ye put grosseriesin when ye gang by train."
Foster nodded. On Canadian railways, economical second-classpassengers often carry provisions instead of using the meal stations.
"He bought some tinned meat and biscuits," Pete resumed. "Then sometea and a wee spirit-stove."
"There's no train until to-morrow and I imagine the fellow wouldn't besatisfied with canned meat, so long as he could get something betterwhen the cars stopped."
Pete grinned. "I'm no' saying he meant to tak' the train. It lookedmair like he was going to picnic in the woods."
"Ah!" said Foster abruptly. "I suppose you followed the man?"
"Far enough to see him tak' the road we went. Then I cam' back. Yesee, I kent where he was going."
Foster made a sign of agreement, because it was obvious that Telfordwas going to the shack at the mine. He understood how the fellow hadgot out without his seeing him, since it is usual in Canada to have aseparate entrance to a hotel bar and he had stupidly been satisfiedwith watching the hall.
"He has gone to meet somebody; but why did he take the provisions?"
"Maybe he wanted to give them to the ither man."
"But why should the other need the food?"
"Weel," said Pete, "if I was looking for a hidie-hole convenient to thetown, I'd no' find much fault with yon' auld mine. Maybe it's dry, an'the frost wouldna' get far in."
Foster started, for he thought Pete had guessed right. He and Lawrencehad camped in the open in colder weather than was often felt in BritishColumbia, and as wood was plentiful, there was no reason the man shouldnot make a fire after dark, if he could find an outlet for the smoke.He must now find out who was hiding in the mine, but thought he knew,for vague suspicions suddenly got clear.
To begin with, the fellow who watched Telford at the hotel was either apoliceman or a private detective in Hulton's pay. Then Foster had lostDaly's track at Banff, which was not very far off, and taking it forgranted that Telford belonged to the gang, it was logical to supposethat he had arranged a meeting with Daly and Walters. On arrival Dalyhad found that the town was watched, but was either unable to leave itwithout being followed or detained by his business with the others. Inconsequence, he had taken refuge in the mine.
Foster sent Pete away and smoked another pipe. He would have liked tovisit the mine at once, but if he went, would meet Telford coming backor find him when he reached the spot, and he must see Daly alone. Heought, of course, to warn the man he thought a detective, but did notmean to do so, and this resolve brought up a problem he had tried tosolve before: what could he offer Daly in return for his keepingLawrence's secret?
If the fellow had killed Fred Hulton, it was unthinkable that he shouldhelp him to escape. Foster felt that he had perhaps, in a sense,already become Daly's accomplice, but meant to save his comrade andkeep his promise to Alice. He would see Daly in the morning and decidethen what line to take; after all, luck might help him again. Then heknocked out his pipe and went to bed.
After breakfast next morning he called for Pete and walked carelesslyto the main bridge. He, however, took his pistol and when they reachedthe woods Pete cut a heavy stick. Foster did not expect to use force,but it was better to be prepared. While Pete was trimming his cudgelthey heard the heavy snorting of a locomotive and a plume of smokemoved across the town. Then they saw through an opening in the treesthe cars roll along the mountain side. The Montreal express hadstopped on its journey east, but Foster was preoccupied and thoughtnothing of this.
The snow was very soft when they plodded up the path among the trees,but it was not far to the clearing, and Foster stopped at its edge. Hehad met nobody, and the woods were silent except for the dying roar ofthe train, which came faintly down the valley. There was no smoke, butDaly would put out his fire when it got light. Crossing the wet snownoiselessly, he made for the shack and when he reached it beckoned toPete.
"Stay here for about ten minutes, and then if I'm not back, you hadbetter come in," he said. "If anybody runs out, don't let him pass."
Pete's nod showed he understood and Foster, moving forward quietly,stopped again for a moment at the mouth of the adit. Pete hadvanished, but could be trusted to watch the mine as a terrier watches arat-hole, and Foster knew that if he were attacked and overcome hisassailant would not escape. A gray sky hung over the black tops of thefirs and the wet snow threw up a curious livid light. It was anunpleasant raw morning, and Foster felt half daunted.
The adit was dark; he was embarking on a rash adventure, and wonderedwith some misgivings what would happen before he came out again. Heheard nothing, and it was rather curious that he could not smell smoke,but bracing himself he stooped and crept into the dark hole.
The floor sloped, following the inclination of the strata, and seemedto be strewn with fallen stones, but he had put on rubber shoes andmade very little noise. He did not want to warn Daly that hishiding-place had been discovered, until he was near enough to explainthat he had nothing to do with the police. There would not be muchdanger when the fellow knew who he was and that the mine was watched,but he wanted to get as close as possible before alarming him. Daly,no doubt, carried a pistol.
Stopping for a moment, he raised his head incautiously and smothered anexclamation when he struck it against the roof. He could hear waterdripping somewhere below and the slope felt steep. It was nervous workcreeping down hill in the dark, and there was, perhaps, a risk of hisfalling into a pit. When he dislodged a stone that rattled he held hisbreath as he listened. He heard nothing, and set his lips as heovercame an impulse to turn back. If Daly had heard the stone, he wasprobably waiting for him with his finger on the trigger.
For all that, Foster went on, feeling for the rough wall, until hestruck his foot against a big stone and losing his balance staggeredand fell. He made a noise that echoed through the adit and, worse thanall, the pistol shot out of his hand. He felt for but could not findit, and for a few moments lay still with tingling nerves. Daly musthave heard him and was, no doubt, crouching in the dark, ready toshoot. He tried again to find the pistol, and then with an effortpulled himself together. The next move might draw a shot, but he mustrisk that and not lie there helpless. Besides, if the fellow missed,he might grapple with and disarm him, and he sprang to his feet.
"Daly!" he called in a voice that he meant to be careless but wasrather hoarse. "It's Foster. I want to talk about Featherstone."
There was no reply. He heard water falling into a pool, but except forthis the mine was strangely silent, and after waiting for a moment hedrew back against the rock.
"Pete!" he shouted.
His voice sounded muffled and he wondered whether Pete could hear, buttried to fix his attention on the dark in front. It was there thatdanger might lurk. Then he heard Pete stumbling among the stones, andpresently the man came up, panting with haste.
"Where's the l
amp?" Foster asked.
He knew he was going to do a dangerous thing if Daly was hiding near,but something must be risked and he struck a match. It sputtered,throwing an illusive gleam on the wet rock a yard or two in front, andthen went out. Foster struck another with a hoarse exclamation andtouched the wick of a small, flat, metal lamp, such as Western minershook on their hats. Candles are not common in Canadian towns wherewater-power makes electric lighting cheap. The lamp gave a dim smokylight, and when Foster picked up his pistol they waited a few moments,looking eagerly in front.
A trickle of water fell from a crack in the roof and running down thefloor of the adit vanished into the gloom. Here and there a raggedprojection caught the light, but the rest of the tunnel was hidden inimpenetrable darkness. They went on cautiously, though Foster now feltanxious because there was no sign of Daly. After a minute or two, thelight fell on a wall of dry rock with a pool at the bottom, and he knewthey had reached the end of the adit. Next moment he saw there was anopening to one side where some ore had been taken out. If Daly was inthe mine, he was there, and warning Pete with a sign, he turned thecomer.
The light showed a small, dry chamber, strewn with sharp stones, someof which had been put together to make a hearth. Between these lay theashes of a fire; bits of food were scattered about, and a blue Hudson'sBay blanket lay in a corner. Except for this, the chamber was empty.Foster savagely clenched his fist while Pete stirred the ashes and feltthe blanket.
"It's dry an' the reek o' a cigar is fresh on it," he said. "Yonfire's no' been oot lang. I'm thinking it's a pity we didna' come lastnight."
Foster sat down and looked about. He was getting calm, but felt dullwith disappointment. For all that, he saw why the mine had beenabandoned. There was a fault in the strata, where the vein had slippeddown, but the subsidence had cracked the rock above and he imaginedthat the fissure reached the surface. The air was fresh and not verycold; there was water close by, and Foster saw no reason why Dalyshould not have found the chamber a comfortable hiding-place. Yet hehad left it.
"Can you see the basket you talked about?" he asked, giving Pete thelamp.
Pete found it behind some stones and they examined it together.
"Here's the spirit-stove, some bread, and the can of meat," saidFoster. "But I see no biscuits. Can he have eaten them?"
"There were ower mony. He's ta'en them with him."
"Well," said Foster thoughtfully, "I don't see why the other fellowbrought him provisions he didn't need."
"Maybe something happened since he brought the basket," Pete suggested.
Foster pondered. It was possible that something had happened at thehotel after Telford's visit that had altered the accomplices' plans, ormade it easier for Daly to get away; but, if this were so, Telford musthave gone back to the mine. He might have done so, but Foster thoughtDaly had perhaps not taken his confederate altogether into hisconfidence and had changed his plans without warning him. Foster couldnot tell what chance the fellow had of stealing away, but as he hadleft the basket and only taken some biscuits, it looked as if he didnot expect to go very far on foot.
"We'll get out and try to find which way he's gone," he said.
It was a relief to reach the open air, and they carefully studied thesloppy snow. Foster knew something about tracking elk and moose, andPete had a poacher's skill, but the rapid thaw had blurred thefootprints they found. On the whole, however, Pete imagined thatTelford had returned to the mine since his visit on the previousevening.
Then they searched about the foot of the rocks and presently foundmarks that showed where somebody had climbed. Getting up, theyfollowed the marks to a beaten trail that ran along the hillside fromthe town to a neighboring mine. There was nothing to be learned hereand Foster went back dejectedly to the hotel. Dinner was being servedwhen he arrived, but he did not see Walters and felt annoyed whenTelford stopped him as he was coming out.
"I haven't seen you since last night and thought we might have had agame," he said. "Where have you been all morning?"
"I didn't come here to play pool," Foster replied. "There wassomething I had to see about."
"Then I hope you found business pretty good," Telford remarked with aquiet smile that Foster found disturbing.
He thought the fellow would see him if he went to the clerk's office,and beckoning the bell-boy into a passage gave him a coin.
"Do you know if the lame gentleman with the dark hair is out?" he asked,
"He's certainly out. Left on the Montreal express this morning."
"You're quite sure of that?"
"Yep," said the lad. "I put his baggage in the transfer wagon for thedepot."
Foster went to the rotunda and sat down to smoke. He felt savage, forthere was no doubt that he had muddled things. Daly had again escapedhim, but he thought he saw what Walters' visit meant. Three of thegang had met to make some plot, which might threaten Lawrence, whomthey no doubt thought dangerous. It was ominous that Walters had goneeast. Daly was obviously afraid of arrest, but the others seemed tothink themselves safe and Telford was stopping at the hotel, althoughit looked as if he were being watched. Foster wondered whether thefellow suspected this.
Another matter demanded consideration. News of what he had done inNewcastle had probably reached the gang, and he had a check belongingto a member of it in his wallet. If they knew this, which waspossible, he might be in some danger, and taking it for granted thatthe watcher was a detective or acting for Hulton, it would simplifythings and free him from a grave responsibility if he told what heknew. For all that, he did not mean to do so. His object was to savehis comrade's name.
In the afternoon he played pool with Telford, who carelessly asked hima few clever questions, which Foster answered with a misleadingfrankness that he hoped would put the other off the track. In theevening he read the newspapers and tried to overcome a growing anxietyabout Lawrence. He ought to follow Daly, but did not know where he hadgone, and thought that if he waited Telford might give him a clew.
There were no letters for him next morning, but soon after breakfastthe bell-boy brought him a telegram and he tore open the envelope. Themessage was from Lucy Stephen and read:
"Mountaineering friend just arrived. Snow dangerous now. Would feelsafer if you could join us. Come if possible."
For a moment or two Foster sat still, with his face set. Lucy wasguarded, but the mountaineering friend was Walters and she had givenhim an urgent hint that he was needed. Then he picked up a railroadfolder that lay near and noting the time of Walters' arrival, saw thatthe telegram had been delayed. After this he glanced at his watch andran out into the street.
A trail of black smoke moved across the roofs and he heard the roll ofwheels as the heavy train climbed the incline. He had got Lucy'swarning ten minutes too late, and could not leave until next day.
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