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For the first time since we have had him here, he has opened his door to a visitor. And what a surprise for you! it's the other devil with the hat and feather who got at my Cristy, and made her cry." That this meeting would be only too likely to happen, in due course of time, I had never doubted.
Kendrick and Cristy had gone as far as the deserted lumber camp on their first day's jaunt in Svenson's canoe; they had been all over the place, little dreaming that so shortly it was to be occupied by these doubtful characters, or that he was to return to the spot on an errand of such consequence.
Then he too swung down the steps, poised his body as far forward towards the engine as possible and with a quick push backward jumped. For the face which had looked up at him and on which the light had shone distinctly for an instant was the frightened face of Miss Cristy Lawson!
"Here, Cristy!" he shouted. "This way. The Saucer! Make for the Saucer! Are you all right?" "Yes," she panted. "Oh, Philip, Svenson call Svenson!" Neither of them gave thought to the familiar names by which they addressed each other under the stress of the moment. "Here, Cork. Help her. Hustle back, the both of you." There was no time to lose.
Thank you kindly, sir; I'm pretty well, considering how I've fallen away in my flesh. I have got a fine appetite, but somehow or other, my meals don't show on me. You will excuse my receiving you in the kitchen, sir; it's the best room we have. Did Cristy tell you how badly we are off here for repairs? You being our landlord, we look to you to help us.
"It was cleverly done," laughed Cristy, "but like most clever things of that kind, it was as simple as A. B. C. Jimmy laid his plans carefully and the chief danger to threaten his success was that he would not be selected as the messenger between his own office and Ferguson's.
Kendrick happened to be lounging on the embankment in front of the section shanty, waiting for Thorlakson and his men to come pumping down the track on the handcar, while Cristy was helping indoors with the dinner. He recognized the detective the moment he saw the familiar chunky figure emerge from the woods and come out onto the track and he went down to meet him on the run.
It would be a bully spread not one of graft charges, as originally planned by Mac, but even a better story of the fight which an honest politician had been forced to put up in order to remain honest, of the Honorable Milt's investigations and his announcement regarding a royal commission to probe conditions, the escape of the Interprovincial from the criminal activities of its president, the dramatic arrest of Nickleby, the work of Cristy Lawson.
Say, Chic, where's Pardeau? What? Not back from that assignment? Then see if you can find him for me. The rest of you chop your stuff. Cristy Lawson owns the front page!" Briefly he answered their eager questions, then turned to listen to Jackson, talking to the Lawson residence. Apparently Nathaniel Lawson was not at home either. Brennan fiddled with the stem of his watch for a moment.
Old Toller highly approved of my conduct. He rubbed his fleshless hands, and whispered: "You'll get it out of Cristy to-morrow, and I'll help you." I found Gloody waiting for me outside the cottage. He was anxious about Miss Cristel; his only excuse, he told me, being the fear that she might be ill. Having set him at ease, in that particular, I said: "You seem to be interested in Miss Cristel."
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