第111章

"It is not necessary at all, Mr. Cadwaller. Besides, we have only some eighty men all told at this post. Our whole force in the territories is less than five hundred men."

"Five hundred men! You mean for this State, General--Alberta?"

"No, Sir. For all Western Canada. All west of Manitoba."

"How much territory do you cover?" enquired the astonished Mr. Cadwaller.

"We regularly patrol some three hundred thousand square miles, besides taking an occasional expedition into the far north."

"And how many Indians?"

"About the same number as you have, I imagine, in Montana and Dakota. In Alberta, about nine thousand."

"And less than five hundred police! Say, General, I take off my hat. Ten thousand Indians! By the holy poker! And five hundred police! How in Cain do you keep down the devils?"

"We don't try to keep them down. We try to take care of them."

"Guess you've hit it," said Mr. Raimes, dexterously squirting out of the door.

"Jeerupiter! Say, General, some day they'll massacree yuh sure!" said Mr. Cadwaller, a note of anxiety in his voice.

"Oh, no, they are a very good lot on the whole."

"Good! We've got a lot of good Indians too, but they're all under graound. Five hundred men! Jeerupiter! Say, Sligh, how many soldiers does Uncle Sam have on this job?"

"Well, I can't say altogether, but in Montana and Dakota I happen to know we have about four thousand regulars."

"Say, figger that out, will yuh?" continued Mr. Cadwaller.

"Allowed four times the territory, about the same number of Indians and about one-eighth the number of police. Say, General, I take off my hat again. Put it there! You Canucks have got the trick sure!"

"Easier to care for 'em than kill 'em, I guess," said Mr. Raimes casually.

"But, say, General," continued Mr. Cadwaller, "you ain't goin' to send for them hosses with no three men?"

"I'm afraid we cannot spare any more."

"Jeerupiter, General!" exclaimed Mr. Cadwaller. "I'll wait outside the reserve till this picnic's over. Say, General, let's have twenty-five men at least."

"What do you say, Inspector Dickson? Will two men be sufficient?"

"We'll try, Sir," replied the Inspector.

"How soon can you be ready?"

"In a quarter of an hour."

"Jeerupiter!" muttered Mr. Cadwaller to himself, as he followed the Inspector out of the room.

"I say, Commissioner, will you let me in on this thing?" said Cameron.

"Do you mean that you want to join the force?" enquired the Commissioner, letting his eye run approvingly up and down Cameron's figure.

"There is McIvor, Sir--" began Cameron.

"Oh, I could fix that all right," replied the Commissioner. "We want men, and we want men like you. We have no vacancy among the officers, but you could enlist as a constable and there is always opportunity to advance."

"It is a great service!" exclaimed Cameron. "I'd like awfully to join."

"Very well," said the Commissioner promptly, "we will take you.

You are physically sound, wind, limb, eye-sight, and so forth?"

"As far as I know, perfectly fit," replied Cameron.

Once more Inspector Dickson was summoned.

"Inspector Dickson, Mr. Cameron wishes to join the force. We will have his application taken and filled in later, and we will waive examination for the present. Will you administer the oath?"

"Cameron, stand up!" commanded the Inspector sharply.

With a little thrill at his heart Cameron stood up, took the Bible in his hand and repeated after the Inspector the words of the oath, "I, Allan Cameron, solemnly swear that I will faithfully, diligently, and impartially execute and perform the duties required of me as a member of the North West Mounted Police Force, and will well and truly obey and perform all lawful orders and instructions which I shall receive as such, without fear, favour, or affection of or toward any person. So help me, God."

"Now then, Cameron, I congratulate you upon your new profession.

The Inspector will see about your outfit and later you will receive instructions as to your duties. Meantime, take him along with you, Inspector, and get those horses."

It was a somewhat irregular mode of procedure, but men were sorely needed at the Macleod post and the Commissioner had an eye that took in not only the lines of a man's figure but the qualities of his soul.

"That chap will make good, or I am greatly mistaken," he said to the Inspector as Cameron went off with the orderly to select his uniform.

"Well set up chap," said the Inspector. "We'll try him out to-night."

"Come now, don't kill him. Remember, other men have something else in them besides whalebone and steel, if you have not."

In half an hour the Inspector, Sergeant Crisp and Cameron, with the three American citizens, were on their way to the Blood reserve.

Cameron had been given a horse from the stable.

All afternoon and late into the evening they rode, then camped and were early upon the trail the following morning. Cameron was half dead with the fatigue from his experiences of the past week, but he would have died rather than have hinted at weariness. He was not a little comforted to notice that Sergeant Crisp, too, was showing signs of distress, while District Attorney Sligh was evidently in the last stages of exhaustion. Even the steel and whalebone combination that constituted the frame of the Inspector appeared to show some slight signs of wear; but all feeling of weariness vanished when the Inspector, who was in the lead, halted at the edge of a wide sweeping valley and, pointing far ahead, said, "The Blood reserve. Their camp lies just beyond that bluff."

"Say, Inspector, hold up!" cried Mr. Cadwaller as the Inspector set off again. "Ain't yuh goin' to sneak up on 'em like?"

"Sneak up on them? No, of course not," said the Inspector curtly.

"We shall ride right in."

"Say, Raimes," said Mr. Cadwaller, "a hole would be a blame nice thing to find just now."

"Do you think there will be any trouble?" enquired Mr. Hiram Sligh of Sergeant Crisp.

"Trouble? Perhaps so," replied Crisp, as if to him it were a matter of perfect indifference.