ame another sensation, one that surprised and disquieted him. A few
days before his one desire had been to get out of the north country, to
place as much distance as possible between himself and Lac Bain. And now
he found himself visibly affected by the thought that his duty was to
take him once more in the direction of the woman whose sweet face had
become an indissoluble part of his existence. He would not see her. Even
at Wekusko he would be many days' journey from Lac Bain. But she would
be nearer to him, and it was this that quickened his pulse.
He was ten minutes early for his train, and employed that interval in
mingling among the people at the station. MacGregor had as much as told
him that whatever unusual thing might develop depended entirely upon the
appearance of the woman and he began to look for her. She was not at
the station. Twice he walked through the coaches of his train without
discovering a face that resembled that in the photograph.
It was late when he arrived at Etomami, where the sixty mile line of the
Hudson's Bay Railroad branches off to the north. At dawn he entered
the caboose of the work train, which was to take him up through the
wilderness to Le Pas. He was the only passenger.
"There ain't even a hand-car gone up ahead of us," informed the brakeman
in response to his inquiry. "This is the only train in five days."
After all, it was to be a tame affair, in spite of the inspector's
uneasiness and warnings, thought Philip. The woman was not ahead of
him. Two days before she had been in MacGregor's office, and under the
circumstances it was impossible for her to be at Le Pas or at Wekusko,
unless she had traveled steadily on dog sledge. Philip swore softly to
himself in his disappointment, ate breakfast with the train gang, went
to sleep, and awoke when they plowed their way into the snow-smothered
outpost on the Saskatchewan.
The brakeman handed him a letter.
"This came on the Le Pas mail," he explained. "I kept it out for you
instead of sending it to the office."
"Thank you," said Philip. "A special--from headquarters. Why in thunder
didn't they send me a messenger instead of a letter, Braky? They could
have caught me on the train."
He tore open the departmental envelope as he spoke and drew forth a bit
of folded paper. It was not the official letter-head, but at a glance
Philip recognized the inspector's scrawling writing and his signature.
It was one of MacGregor's quiet bo
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