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I'm hearin' Lapierre she pass de word to hit for Snare Lake, for deeg de gol'." "Did Lapierre tell you to deeg de gol', or me? Non. He say, you go to Tostoff." The snakelike eyes of the smaller man glittered at the mention of gold. He clutched at the other's arm and cried out sharply: "MacNair arres'! Sacré! Com', we tak' de wheeskey to de Clearwater an' go on to Snare Lake."
But the danger from the authorities is small in comparison with the danger from MacNair." Tostoff growled an assent. "And now," continued Lapierre, "for the first time we have him where we want him." The Russian looked sceptical. "We got MacNair where we want him if he's dead," he grunted. "Who killed him?" Lapierre made a gesture of impatience. "He is not dead.
But she did not know that, nor did she know of his midnight visit to Tostoff, nor of what happened at Brown's cabin, nor of the release of MacNair. Bob MacNair drove a terrific trail. He was known throughout the Northland as a hard man to follow at any time. His huge muscles were tireless at the paddle, and upon the rackets his long swinging stride ate up the miles of the snow-trails.
Xavier interrupted him. "Tra la, Chrees'mas Day! Ain't we got de easy trail? Two days befor' Chrees'mas we com' on de cabin of Brown. Baptiste Chambre, she got de beeg jug rum. We mak' de grand dronk one day one night. Den we hit de trail an com' on de Clearwater Chrees'mas Day sam' lak' now. Tostoff, de Russ, she nevair know, Lapierre, she nevair know. Voil
"O-ho! so that's his game? That's why he's been bucking us because he's got a line of his own!" Lapierre laughed. "Not so fast, Tostoff, not so fast. It is a frame-up. That is, the charges are not, but the evidence is. I attended to that myself. I think we have enough on him to keep him out of the cold for a couple of winters to come. But you can't tell.
Tostoff objected strenuously to the running of a consignment in winter, but Lapierre persisted, covering the ground step by step while the other listened with a scowl. "It's this way, Tostoff: For years MacNair has been our chief stumbling-block. God knows we have trouble enough running the stuff past the Dominion police and the Mounted.
That will give your packers a week to make their getaway. And on New Year's Day the Mounted will find the stuff in the cache. There will be nobody to arrest, but they will have the evidence that will clinch the case against MacNair. And with MacNair behind the bars we will have things our own way north of sixty." Tostoff shook his head dubiously. "Bad business, Lapierre," he warned.
He's locked up in the Fort Saskatchewan jail." For the first time Tostoff showed real interest. "What's against him?" he asked eagerly. "Murder, for one thing," answered Lapierre. "That will hold him without bail until the spring assizes. He will probably get out of that, though. But they are holding him also on four or five liquor charges." "Liquor charges!" cried Tostoff, with an angry snort.
"Sacré! you leetle man, you Du Mont, you 'fraid!" The other shrugged. "I'm 'fraid, Oui, I'm lak' I ke'p out de jail. Tostoff, she say, you com' on de cabin of Brown de Chrees'mas Day. Bien! Tostoff, she sma't mans. Lapierre, too. Tostoff, she 'fraid for de wintaire trail, but she 'fraid for Lapierre mor'."
It was this Tostoff: Russian by birth, and crook by nature, whose business it was to disguise the contraband whiskey into innocent-looking freight pieces. And, it was Tostoff who selected the men and stood responsible for the contraband's safe conduct over the first stage of its journey to the North.
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