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Page 28
He pointed to their horses who were playfully rearing and biting at each
other in equine sport. "Look at old Parson and Fox tryin' to warm
themselves? Bloomin' fine example we've set 'em. Well! _allons_! _mon
camarade_, let's up and beat it."
CHAPTER VI
_A deed accursed! Strokes have been struck before
By the assassin's hand, whereof men doubt
If more of horror or disgrace they bore;
But this foul crime, like Cain's, stands darkly out._
THOMAS TAYLOR
Hastily dressing, the two policemen mounted and took the trail once more.
Side by side as they rode along, in each man's heart was an estimate of
the other vastly different from that with which they started out that
memorable morning.
Yorke, his spirits now fully recovered, became quite companionably
communicative, relating picturesque, racy stories of India, the Yukon,
and other countries he had known. George, in receptive mood, listened in
silent appreciation to one of the most fascinating _raconteurs_ he had
ever met in his young life. Incidentally he felt relieved as he noted
his comrade now tactfully avoiding morbid egotism--dwelling but lightly
upon the milestones that marked his chequered career.
The bodily stiffness and soreness, consequent upon their recent bout, was
now well-nigh forgotten, though occasionally they laughingly rallied each
other as the sharp air stung their bruised faces. They were just
surmounting the summit of a long, steep grade in the trail.
Said Redmond dubiously: "See here; look! I'm darned if I like getting
the freedom of the City of Cow Run sportin' such a pretty mug as this!
How many more miles to this giddy burg, old thing?"
Yorke grinned unfeelingly. "Hard on nine miles to go yet. We're about
half way. _Isch ga bibble_! . . . open your ditty-box and sing! you
blooming whip-poor-will."
"A werry heart goes all the way,
But a sad one tires in a mile a';
A--"
The old lilt died on his lips. With a startled oath he reined in sharply
and, shielding his eyes from the sun-glare, remained staring straight in
front of him. They had just topped the crest of the rise. The eastward
slope showed a low-lying, undulating stretch of snow-bound country,
sparsely dotted with clumps of poplar and alder growth, through which the
trail wound snake-like into the fainter distance. Southwards, below the
rolling, shelving benches, lay the river, a steaming black line, twisting
interminably between frosty, bush-fringed banks.
No less startled than his companion, Redmond pulled up also and stared
with him. Not far distant on the trail ahead of them they beheld a dark,
ominous-looking mass, vividly conspicuous against the snow. Suddenly the
object moved and resolved itself unmistakably into a horse struggling to
rise. For an instant they saw the head and the fore-part of the body
lift, and then flop prone again. Close against it lay another dark
object.
"Horse down!" snapped Yorke tersely. "Hell!" he added, "looks like a man
there, too! come on quick!"
Responding to a shake of the lines and a fierce thrust of the spurs,
their horses leapt forward and they raced towards their objective.
"Steady! steady!" hissed Yorke, checking his mount as they drew near the
fallen animal and its rider, "pull Fox a bit, Red! Mustn't scare the
horse!"
Slackening into a walk, they flung out of saddle, dropped their lines,
crouched, and crept warily forward. The horse, a big, splendid
seal-brown animal, had fallen on its right side, with its off fore-leg
plunged deep in a snow-filled badger-hole. The body of the man lay also
on the off-side with one leg under his mount. The stiffened form was a
ghastly object to behold, being literally encased in an armour-like shell
of frozen, claret-coloured snow.
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