The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail | Page 4

place.
The capture of the great Sioux schemer must be entrusted to a cooler
head than that of the impulsive, daring, loyal-hearted Sergeant.
CHAPTER II
HIS COUNTRY'S NEED
For full five miles they rode in unbroken silence, the Superintendent
going before with head pressed down on his breast and eyes fixed upon
the winding trail. A heavy load lay upon him. True, his immediate
sphere of duty lay along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, but
as an officer of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police he shared
with the other officers of that force the full responsibility of holding in
steadfast loyalty the tribes of Western Indians. His knowledge of the
presence in the country of the arch-plotter of the powerful and warlike
Sioux from across the line entailed a new burden. Well he knew that his
superior officer would simply expect him to deal with the situation in a
satisfactory manner. But how, was the puzzle. A mere handful of men
he had under his immediate command and these dispersed in ones and

twos along the line of railway, and not one of them fit to cope with the
cunning and daring Sioux.
With startling abruptness he gave utterance to his thoughts.
"We must get him--and quick. Things are moving too rapidly for any
delay. The truth is," he continued, with a deepening impatience in his
voice, "the truth is we are short-handed. We ought to be able to patrol
every trail in this country. That old villain has fooled us to-day and he'll
fool us again. And he has fooled Pinault, the smartest breed we've got.
He's far too clever to be around loose among our Indians."
Again they rode along in silence, the Superintendent thinking deeply.
"I know where he is!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling up his horse. "I
know where he is--this blessed minute. He's on the Sun Dance Trail
and in the Sun Dance Canyon, and they're having the biggest kind of a
powwow."
"The Sun Dance!" echoed the Sergeant. "By Jove, if only Sergeant
Cameron were on this job! He knows the Sun Dance inside and out,
every foot."
The Superintendent swung his horse sharply round to face his Sergeant.
"Cameron!" he exclaimed thoughtfully. "Cameron! I believe you're
right. He's the man--the very man. But," he added with sudden
remembrance, "he's left the Force."
"Left the Force, sir. Yes, sir," echoed the Sergeant with a grin. "He
appeared to have a fairly good reason, too."
"Reason!" snorted the Superintendent. "Reason! What in--? What did
he--? Why did he pull off that fool stunt at this particular time? A kid
like him has no business getting married."
"Mighty fine girl, sir," suggested the Sergeant warmly. "Mighty lucky
chap. Not many fellows could resist such a sharp attack as he had."

"Fine girl! Oh, of course, of course--fine girl certainly. Fine girl. But
what's that got to do with it?"
"Well, sir," ventured the Sergeant in a tone of surprise, "a good deal, sir,
I should say. By Jove, sir, I could have--if I could have pulled it off
myself--but of course she was an old flame of Cameron's and I'd no
chance."
"But the Service, sir!" exclaimed the Superintendent with growing
indignation. "The Service! Why! Cameron was right in line for
promotion. He had the making of a most useful officer. And with this
trouble coming on it was--it was--a highly foolish, indeed a highly
reprehensible proceeding, sir." The Superintendent was rapidly
mounting his pet hobby, which was the Force in which he had the
honor to be an officer, the far-famed North West Mounted Police. For
the Service he had sacrificed everything in life, ease, wealth, home, yes,
even wife and family, to a certain extent. With him the Force was a
passion. For it he lived and breathed. That anyone should desert it for
any cause soever was to him an act unexplainable. He almost reckoned
it treason.
But the question was one that touched the Sergeant as well, and deeply.
Hence, though he well knew his Chief's dominant passion, he ventured
an argument.
"A mighty fine girl, sir, something very special. She saw me through a
mountain fever once, and I know--"
"Oh, the deuce take it, Sergeant! The girl is all right. I grant you all that.
But is that any reason why a man should desert the Force? And now of
all times? He's only a kid. So is she. She can't be twenty-five."
"Twenty-five? Good Lord, no!" exclaimed the shocked Sergeant. "She
isn't a day over twenty. Why, look at her. She's--"
"Oh, tut-tut! If she's twenty it makes it all the worse. Why couldn't they
wait till this fuss was over? Why, sir, when I was twenty--" The
Superintendent paused abruptly.

"Yes, sir?" The Sergeant's manner was respectful and