Fothergill and Spence arrived at Moose Jaw one evening. Spence did not know all the other knew, but when a constable is sent on important business the R.N.W.P.’s rule is not for him to go alone. When the train rolled out of the station the stores were shut and a recent thunderstorm had deluged the plain. The streets were not paved, and Fothergill, taking the plank sidewalk, inquired for Grant’s hotel. When he reached the hotel he beckoned a bell-boy.
“Is Mr. Grant about?”
“He’s in his room; second landing,” the other replied. “If you go up quiet, you’ll get him, but I didn’t reckon he was the sort you want.”
Fothergill knew a Canadian bell-boy likes a saucy joke, but he frowned. His orders were to use tact, and he saw his inquiring for Grant had an ominous look.
“Take us up,” he said s
