Joan of Arc of the North Woods Part 36

Latisan's that! Half of 'em came north because they figured on him. I've been hoping. But I'm sort of giving up."

"I don't like to hear you say that," she cried. "As soon as he knows the truth he will come to us. Father Leroque promised to carry that truth to him."

"Providing the priest can find him in the Tomah country--yes, you have said that to me and I've been cal'lating to see Latisan come tearing around a bend in the river most any minute ever since you told me. But Miah Sprague, the fire warden, went through to-day. I've been hating to report to you, miss, for I'm knowing to it how you feel these days; your looks tell me, and I'm sorry. But Sprague has come from the Tomah and he tells me that Ward Latisan hasn't been home--hasn't been heard from.

n.o.body knows where he is. That is straight from Garry Latisan, because Garry is starting a hue and a cry and asked Miah to comb the north country for news."

She did not reply. She was not sure that there was a touch of rebuke in the old man's mournful tones, but she felt that any sort of reproach would be justified. She had never made a calm a.n.a.lysis of the affair between herself and Latisan, to determine what onus of the blame rested on her and how much was due to the plots and the falsehoods of Crowley.

She clung to her sense of fault in order to spur herself to make good; that same sense, a heritage from a father, had served vicariously in rousing her spirit to battle for her grandfather.

"I hope you're going to keep up your grit, miss," urged Vittum. "We'll do our best for you--but I ain't lotting much on Latisan's showing up again. It's too bad! It'll break his heart when he finds out at last what he has been left out of and what a chance he has missed."

Like many another, she had, at times, dreamed vividly of falling from great heights. That was her sensation then, awake, when she heard that Ward Latisan was not to be found. Despair left her numb and quivering.

Till then she had not realized how greatly her hope and confidence in his final coming had counted with her. She had not dared to think that his anger would persist; it had seemed to be too violent to last.

However, it was plain that rage had overmastered the love he had proclaimed. Lida was very much woman and felt the feminine conviction that a lover would be able to find her if his heart were set on the quest. There was only a flicker of a thought along that line; it was mere irritation that was immediately swept away by her pity for him. She was able to comprehend man's talk then--she knew what Vittum meant when he spoke of the chance that was missed--and she understood how Ward Latisan would mourn if he heard too late what the struggle that year on the Noda waters signified in the case of the girl for whom he had professed love.

She could not talk with the old man; she stumbled across the dry kye, threw herself on her couch of boughs, and pressed her palms over her ears to keep out the threat in the song of the men who toiled around and around the capstan post, drawing the Flagg logs in their slow, relentless pa.s.sage to the scene of the promised conflict at Skulltree.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"I'll be cursed if I don't think I ought to hire a real detective and put him onto the inside affairs in this office," was Chief Mern's ireful opinion after he had listened to Crowley and Miss Elsham when they reported in from the north country. They were voluble in their own behalf, but their talk was slippery, so the chief felt. They were also voluble in regard to Lida Kennard, but Mern found himself more than ever enmeshed in his guesswork about that mysterious young lady.

Crowley kept s.h.i.+fting off the topic onto his own prowess, patting himself on the breast and claiming all the credit for getting Latisan off his job.

Miss Elsham, on her part, kept lighting fresh cigarettes and was convincing on only one point: "No more wild men of the woods for me.

Never again in the tall timber. I'll do night and day s.h.i.+fts in the cafes if you ask me to. And I've got a knickerbocker suit that's for sale!"

Mern had several interviews with the two, trying to understand.

When the bl.u.s.tering Crowley was present Miss Elsham allowed him to claim all the credit and made no protest.

Alone with Mern, she declared that Buck was a big bluff, but she was not especially clear in her reports on his methods.

"But what has become of Kennard?"

"I don't know. Lynched, maybe. They were threatening to do it to Buck and me before we got away."

One thing seemed to be true--Mern had a wire from Brophy in reply to an inquiry: Ward Latisan had gone away and was staying away.

And Rufus Craig, arriving in the city, telephoned the same information to the chief and promised to call around and settle.

Crowley was informed of that confirmation, and grinned and again patted his breast and claimed the credit.

"All right," allowed the chief, "you're in for your slice of the fee.

But if you're lying about Kennard I'll make you suffer for deserting her."

"I stand by what I have said. She was double-crossing us."

Later, Crowley began to inquire casually from time to time whether Miss Kennard had sent in any word. He was not good at concealing his thoughts, and he was manifestly worried by the prospect of possible developments, but Mern was not able to pin him down to anything specific. As a matter of fact, Crowley had not fathomed the mystery of Miss Kennard's actions in Adonia and was not in a way to do so by any processes of his limited intelligence; he admitted as much to himself.

He was clumsy in his efforts to extract from the chief something in regard to the report which supposedly had been sent in by Miss Kennard, and Mern's suspicions were stirred afresh. He gave Crowley no information on that point; one excellent reason why he did not do so was this: Miss Kennard had not sent in any report. Mern was still waiting to hear from her as to certain details; he wanted to talk with her. Crowley ventured to state that she had left Adonia, and he suggested that she was on the trail of Latisan. The operative, pressed for reasons why she was still pursuing Latisan, if the drive master had been separated from his job by Crowley, averred that, according to his best judgment, the girl had gone crazy. That statement did not satisfy Mern, but it enabled Crowley to avoid tripping too often over inconsistencies.

Under those circ.u.mstances the uneasy feeling persisted in Chief Mern that the Latisan case was not finished, in spite of Craig's compliments and Crowley's boasts and Miss Elsham's bland agreement as to facts as stated, though with avoidance of details.

Mern usually shut down the cover on a case as soon as the point had been won; he had found in too many instances that memory nagged; he had a.s.sured Craig that having to do what a detective chief was called on to do in his business had not given him the spirit of a buccaneer.

But in this case the lack of candor in his operatives disturbed him, though he did not presume to arraign them; he could not do that consistently; in the interests of his peace of mind he had always a.s.sured his workers that they need not trouble him with details after a job had been done.

Crowley, mystified, had said nothing about the amazing love affair. It occurred to him that the protestations of Miss Kennard might have been a part of her campaign of subtlety, interrupted by his smas.h.i.+ng in; he was more than ever convinced that his was not the kind of mind that could deal with subtlety.

Miss Elsham never mentioned Latisan's apparent infatuation; she had been sent north in the role of a charmer and did not propose to confess to Mern that she had failed utterly to interest the woodsman.

Undoubtedly the reticence of both of them was merciful; to heap this crowning burden upon Chief Mern's bewilderment in regard to the actions of a trusted employee would have disqualified him mentally for other cases which were coming along.

Crowley loafed diligently at the Vose-Mern offices when he was not out on duty; there was no knowing when he might be able to turn a trick for the good of the concern by being on hand, he told himself, and for one of his bovine nature all waiting around was easy and all stalls were alike.

Therefore, one day he was on hand to rush a quick tip to the chief.

Crowley turned his back on a caller who entered the main office; the bulletin bearer hurried into Mern's presence.

"It's the big boy from the bush--Latisan!"

"Ugly?"

"I didn't wait to see."

"You have told me straight, have you, about his being a bad actor when he's riled?"

"That's the real dope on him, Chief. Don't let him in to see you--that's my advice."

Mern took a little time for thought, inspecting his operative narrowly.

"I ain't intending to b.u.t.t in, you understand," apologized Crowley, reddening.

"I think that's good advice, speaking from the standpoint of prudence."

"There's no good in has.h.i.+ng the thing over with him; he's off the job and I claim the credit and----"

"But from the standpoint of curiosity," broke in Mern, relentlessly, "I'll be almighty glad to have a talk with him. I'll probably get some facts now. Shut up! If you have come back and told me all the truth I wouldn't be taking a chance with this man. You're to blame! Remember that another time. Beat it!" He jabbed his thumb in the direction of a door which enabled clients to leave without going back through the main office.

"A man named Latisan," reported the door boy.

"Tell him to come in."

Crowley turned the k.n.o.b of the catch lock and dodged out into the corridor.

Mern stood up to receive the caller.