CHAPTER XXIII BACK AT THE MISSION

“You’ve won, Dick. Dr. Brady says that you were absolutely wonderful. The way you sat on your horse, the way you ordered that crowd of natives about—your calmness, your courage. You were every inch a policeman!”

Dick laughed.

“I wonder what Dr. Brady would say if he knew the truth. I wonder what he would say if he knew that I was quaking inside like a jelly-fish. It is true that I sat on my horse, but the credit is due the horse, not me. If he had moved as much as one front leg, he’d have shaken me out of the saddle. Our cause would have been lost.”

“Come! Come! You’re fooling, Dick.”

“Not at all. I was never more frightened in my life, and I never want to be as badly frightened again. I was trembling like a leaf. When the chief brought out Father Bleriot and Dr. Brady and turned them over to us, I very nearly collapsed.”

“But the Indians were frightened too. They were afraid of you.”
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“Perhaps they were. Everyone was more or less frightened, I guess, except Toma. Cool! Honestly I think he enjoyed it. He egged me on, encouraged me. I never would have had the nerve to enter that village if it hadn’t been for him. There’s a young man, Sandy, who was born without fear. He doesn’t know what it means.”

Sandy rose and threw another log on the fire. Then he rubbed the palms of his hands together and grinned.

“Well, I’ll grant that. He doesn’t. He loves action and excitement. He eats it. I suppose he’s off somewhere now, worrying because we haven’t much left here to do.”

“I know where he is,” laughed Dick. “He went back to the Indian village with Dr. Brady. Brady is finishing his work there this afternoon. Toma is his interpreter.”

A moment of silence. Then:

“Dick, were you over to see Corporal Rand this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Better, isn’t he?”

“Much better. I never saw anyone improve so rapidly.”

“But you didn’t talk with Dr. Brady. Did he tell you, Dick—did you hear——”
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In his excitement, Sandy pulled forward a chair and plumped himself into it, putting both hands on Dick’s knees.

“Dr. Brady admits that he was wrong. His first examination was—er—well, a little hasty. Those feet, for example. Bad, of course, but——”

“Do you mean to tell me he’ll walk?”

“Exactly.”

“Will be well enough to return to his duties?”

“Dr. Brady believes so now. He was quite enthusiastic this morning. It’ll take months, of course—months before he’ll be around again. First, he must go to Edmonton and have an operation—skin grafting and all that sort of thing.”

“And his mind is all right too?”

“Yes. Almost.”

“Almost!” snorted Dick. “You don’t mean that, surely. Why, he was perfectly rational last night, when I had a talk with him. He remembered everything. He told me about his troubles on the trail. He asked me if we were intending to take the Keechewan mail back with us. We had a long talk together. His mind is as bright as a new silver American dollar. What made you say that?”

Sandy rose again and pushed back his chair. He walked over and stood with his back to the fire.

“It’s getting colder, Dick.”

“Look here, you gay young deceiver, you didn’t answer my question.”
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Sandy looked up blankly.

“Eh, what? Question?”

“Yes. My question. Why do you think that Corporal Rand hasn’t fully recovered his mental powers?”

“He hasn’t—quite,” Sandy wagged his head dolefully. “He sometimes suffers from hallucinations. Dr. Brady and I both noticed it.”

“What are they?”

“There was one in particular. It would have amused me, only I feel so sorry for him. He’s—he’s—well, he thinks he’s going to be placed under arrest. Can you imagine anything so absurd? And by Inspector Cameron, too. He’s really worrying about it.”

Dick’s roar of laughter echoed to every part of the room. Tears of merriment chased each other down his cheeks.

“I don’t think that is so very funny,” Sandy declared with great dignity. “You ought to pity the man.”

“You chump! You chump!” howled Dick. “Why that—that isn’t an hallucination; it’s a fact. Corporal Rand may be arrested. He probably will be, but I don’t believe Cameron will be very severe with him. Not this time.”

“What’s he done?” blinked Sandy.
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“Disobeyed orders. He came up here against the inspector’s wishes. You see, Cameron intended to come himself.”

“Oh,” said Sandy, much relieved, “the inspector has probably forgotten all about it.”

“Not he! Cameron never forgets.”

“But he won’t be hard on him.”

“Of course not. He’ll impose a light fine along with a severe lecture. Then he’ll reach in his pocket and give Rand the money to pay the fine.”

Sandy laughed.

“Why don’t you tell Rand that? I think it will relieve his mind.”

“Guess I will.” Dick rose. “I’ll take a run over there now and cheer him up.”

Dick had readied the door, when Sandy called him back.

“I say, Dick.”

“Yes, Sandy, what is it?”

“Remember the night when you released the Indian—sent him back to his people with that message?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I—I called you some names, Dick. I’m sorry about that. I guess I was a bit angry and overbearing. You’ll overlook it, won’t you?”

Dick took his chum’s hand and gripped it firmly.
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“Why—I’d forgotten about it. Anyway, it’s all right. Everything is all right,” he smiled.

“And you’re all right, too,” declared Sandy.

Which, considering everything, was as fine a compliment as Dick had ever received.