"Where's the lamp?" 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, and then went out. Foster struck another with a hoa.r.s.e exclamation and touched the wick of a small, flat, metal lamp, such as Western miners hook on their hats. Candles are not common in Canadian towns where water-power makes electric lighting cheap. The lamp gave a dim smoky light, 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 the floor of the adit vanished into the gloom. Here and there a ragged projection caught the light, but the rest of the tunnel was hidden in impenetrable darkness. They went on cautiously, though Foster now felt anxious because there was no sign of Daly. After a minute or two, the light fell on a wall of dry rock with a pool at the bottom, and he knew they had reached the end of the adit. Next moment he saw there was an opening to one side where some ore had been taken out. If Daly was in the mine, he was there, and warning Pete with a sign, he turned the comer.

The light showed a small, dry chamber, strewn with sharp stones, some of which had been put together to make a hearth. Between these lay the ashes of a fire; bits of food were scattered about, and a blue Hudson's Bay blanket lay in a corner. Except for this, the chamber was empty.

Foster savagely clenched his fist while Pete stirred the ashes and felt the blanket.

"It's dry an' the reek o' a cigar is fresh on it," he said. "Yon fire's no' been oot lang. I'm thinking it's a pity we didna' come last night."

Foster sat down and looked about. He was getting calm, but felt dull with disappointment. For all that, he saw why the mine had been abandoned. There was a fault in the strata, where the vein had slipped down, but the subsidence had cracked the rock above and he imagined that the fissure reached the surface. The air was fresh and not very cold; there was water close by, and Foster saw no reason why Daly should not have found the chamber a comfortable hiding-place. Yet he had left it.

"Can you see the basket you talked about?" he asked, giving Pete the lamp.

Pete found it behind some stones and they examined it together.

"Here's the spirit-stove, some bread, and the can of meat," said Foster. "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 fellow brought 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 the hotel after Telford's visit that had altered the accomplices' plans, or made it easier for Daly to get away; but, if this were so, Telford must have gone back to the mine. He might have done so, but Foster thought Daly had perhaps not taken his confederate altogether into his confidence and had changed his plans without warning him. Foster could not tell what chance the fellow had of stealing away, but as he had left the basket and only taken some biscuits, it looked as if he did not 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 the sloppy snow. Foster knew something about tracking elk and moose, and Pete had a poacher's skill, but the rapid thaw had blurred the footprints they found. On the whole, however, Pete imagined that Telford had returned to the mine since his visit on the previous evening.

Then they searched about the foot of the rocks and presently found marks that showed where somebody had climbed. Getting up, they followed the marks to a beaten trail that ran along the hillside from the town to a neighboring mine. There was nothing to be learned here and Foster went back dejectedly to the hotel. Dinner was being served when he arrived, but he did not see Walters and felt annoyed when Telford stopped him as he was coming out.

"I haven't seen you since last night and thought we might have had a game," he said. "Where have you been all morning?"

"I didn't come here to play pool," Foster replied. "There was something I had to see about."

"Then I hope you found business pretty good," Telford remarked with a quiet 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 pa.s.sage 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 the depot."

Foster went to the rotunda and sat down to smoke. He felt savage, for there was no doubt that he had muddled things. Daly had again escaped him, but he thought he saw what Walters' visit meant. Three of the gang had met to make some plot, which might threaten Lawrence, whom they no doubt thought dangerous. It was ominous that Walters had gone east. Daly was obviously afraid of arrest, but the others seemed to think themselves safe and Telford was stopping at the hotel, although it looked as if he were being watched. Foster wondered whether the fellow suspected this.

Another matter demanded consideration. News of what he had done in Newcastle had probably reached the gang, and he had a check belonging to a member of it in his wallet. If they knew this, which was possible, he might be in some danger, and taking it for granted that the watcher was a detective or acting for Hulton, it would simplify things and free him from a grave responsibility if he told what he knew. For all that, he did not mean to do so. His object was to save his comrade's name.

In the afternoon he played pool with Telford, who carelessly asked him a few clever questions, which Foster answered with a misleading frankness that he hoped would put the other off the track. In the evening he read the newspapers and tried to overcome a growing anxiety about Lawrence. He ought to follow Daly, but did not know where he had gone, and thought that if he waited Telford might give him a clew.

There were no letters for him next morning, but soon after breakfast the bell-boy brought him a telegram and he tore open the envelope. The message was from Lucy Stephen and read:

"Mountaineering friend just arrived. Snow dangerous now. Would feel safer if you could join us. Come if possible."

For a moment or two Foster sat still, with his face set. Lucy was guarded, but the mountaineering friend was Walters and she had given him an urgent hint that he was needed. Then he picked up a railroad folder that lay near and noting the time of Walters' arrival, saw that the telegram had been delayed. After this he glanced at his watch and ran out into the street.

A trail of black smoke moved across the roofs and he heard the roll of wheels as the heavy train climbed the incline. He had got Lucy's warning ten minutes too late, and could not leave until next day.

XXVIII

THE LOG BRIDGE

Lawrence had gone to his room to rest and Lucy Stephen was sitting alone in the veranda when she heard the roar of an east-bound train coming up the valley. It stopped, which did not often happen, and she put down her book and looked out at the opening in the pines that led to the track. The smoke that rose into the clear, cold air began to move, and Lucy frowned, because the train had just stopped long enough for pa.s.sengers to alight. Although the hotel was generally full in summer, there were then only a few other guests, quiet people whose acquaintance she had made, and she did not wish Lawrence to be disturbed by new arrivals. He was getting better, but not so quickly as she wished. Besides, she had another ground for anxiety.

A man came up the road between the pines. It was a relief to see one man instead of a party, but she went to the gla.s.s front and watched him with keen curiosity. He vanished among the trees where the road curved and when he came out not far off she set her lips. It was Walters and her vague fears were realized, but he would not reach the hotel for a few minutes and this gave her time to brace herself.

Ringing a bell, she asked for a telegraph form and hurriedly filling it up, said to the waiting lad, "Take this down to the office."

The lad wore a smart uniform and was called a page, but he had the pertness that generally marks the bellboy in Western hotels.

"Certainly, miss. But I reckon I'll be wanted when the stranger who's coming up the road gets here. Guess it will be all right if I take your message when he's fixed."

Lucy, who scarcely heard, sent the page away. Walters would arrive in a minute or two, and now she had warned Foster she thought she had better not avoid him. If she hid her distrust, she might find out something, and she would sooner he saw her before he met Lawrence.

There was n.o.body else in the veranda just then. Walters came in with a smile that somehow intensified her antagonism, but she waited calmly, although she did not give him her hand.

"It looks as if you were rather surprised to see me," he remarked.

"I am," said Lucy. "Perhaps that's not unnatural!"

He laughed and since she did not suggest his sitting down, remained standing in a rather graceful pose. She meant to hide her real feelings if she could, but as she had been angry when he left it was better that he should think her angry now. A marked change in her att.i.tude would be illogical and might excite suspicion.

"I suppose that means you blame me for Lawrence's illness and haven't forgiven me yet?" he suggested.

"I do blame you. You let the guide get drunk and left Lawrence on the _couloir_. Then you were a long time coming back, when you knew the danger he was in."

"Well," said Walters in an apologetic tone, "I suppose all this is true, but I must point out that when we slipped down the gully it was impossible to get up again. Then there were some big creva.s.ses in the glacier and I had a half-drunk man to help across; I really didn't know he would drink too much when I gave him the flask. However, although perhaps I was rather careless, I hope you won't forbid my seeing Lawrence."

"I couldn't forbid your seeing him, as you must know."

"You couldn't, in a sense," Walters agreed. "Still, of course, your wishes go a long way with him, and I imagine he is what one might call amenable."