Dick picked up the somewhat crumpled sheet and commenced breathlessly:
“Seattle, Washington, Dec. 3.—When the yacht, Elenore, put into harbor this morning at eight o’clock, she was met at the wharf by Revenue Officer Charles M. Steele and Corporal Dickinson, the latter a member of the Canadian Royal Northwest Mounted Police, with papers for the arrest and detention of the crew. The captain of the vessel, Silas Reynolds, and one sailor were missing.
“It is alleged that the Elenore has been engaged in running contraband and stolen fur from various Canadian points to this port. It is understood that Captain Reynolds is under arrest in British Columbia.”
“The long arm of the law,” commented Sandy, as he glanced over Dick’s shoulder. “I suppose it would have been just the same if they had steamed into Rangoon. In the end, they always get caught.”
“Just like Murky did,” added Dick.
“Yes, just like Murky. You can’t fool the police.”
“Especially the Canadian Royal Mounted,” appended the other proudly.
In truth, Dick had every reason to be proud. In the inside pocket of his coat there reposed the most priceless of all his possessions—a letter from the commissioner at Ottawa.
His application had been approved. Next spring he and Toma would report to the adjutant at the mounted police training barracks at Regina!
Transcriber’s Note
- Silently corrected obvious typographical errors; left non-standard (or amusing) spellings and dialect unchanged.
- Added a Table of Contents based on chapter headings.