The halfbreed hesitated before the idea of more Mounted Police about until he had completed his work; and they might be summoned any time by wire from the gravel pit at Mile 135, where a ticker had just been installed for the work of filling in the trestle. Also he paused before the indignity of calling in reinforcements to defeat a lot of blundering fools and cowards. Deep within him was the conviction that nothing more was required than his own unerring rifle. Only the matter of those ninety-two rifles and the presence of Tressa Torrance forced him to consider the situation worthy of prolonged thought. He decided to take the night to think it over. To-morrow after dark would be ample time to carry out any plan that seemed wise.

 

The result of a wakeful night was the decision to carry the story to Torrance and leave the rest in his hands. That plan, too, fitted in with certain undefined ambitions of his own. He did not want the Police to know far enough ahead to nip the whole affair in the bud. Blue Pete loved a scrap; he had also certain definite debts to pay to Koppy, and the thought of a lot of bohunks within range of a licensed rifle made him smile happily. An inborn decency craved to teach these brutes decency in the only way he knew.

 

All day long he fought a crowding impatience. He had early come to the decision to keep Mira in the dark. She would take the threatened attack more seriously than it deserved, and perhaps forestall his plans--probably run to the Police right away. Besides, he did not want her to be involved in the battle that promised.

 

Certain fantastic schemes popped in and out of his head during the day, and one of them he discussed with Mira, without letting her know its immediate origin. If he shot the leaders of the bohunks himself--picked them off from hiding, as he easily could--trouble would cease. The work would run through to completion with greater certainty and speed, and he and Mira would be starting back for freedom in a fortnight. But Mira killed the plan in a few words; Blue Pete was ever apt to ignore the law in his dislike of certain forms of lawlessness.

 

At one stage he thought it would be sufficient to appear at Torrance's shack just before the attack and add his rifle to the defence.

 

On the other hand, were the story taken to the Police they would ignore everything in the pursuit of the leaders of the promised battle; and that might well mean the postponement of the completion of the trestle to the following summer. And Blue Pete could not face that. Besides, those rifles must be captured.

 

The halfbreed accordingly determined to make his report to Torrance, and if the contractor treated it too lightly, he could then inform the Police.

 

With that in view he set out late in the evening for the trestle. He had delayed until the shadows were deep enough to protect him from prying eyes. Mahon's evident suspicions demanded extra precautions in approaching the shack. For no reason of which he was conscious he chose to follow the edge of the river bank.

 

By the time he reached the height overhanging the camp the lighted canvas and open doorways were brilliant spots in the darkness. Yet instantly he experienced a feeling of discomfort. And feelings like that were always his guiding motives. He could not explain the cause of his worry, for the sounds of camp life seemed little less than usual, but he paused a long time above the dotted scene, eyes and ears alert. Feverishly he sought Koppy's shack. When he found it empty, the light burni............