resent position with the Interprovincial Loan & Savings--control
of the stock and all that--will come to a sudden end as soon as Mr.
Bradford, the explorer, returns to civilization. Nickleby won't wait
for that, will he? It looks as if he were getting ready to pull out
and had found Stiles in his way. Jimmy knows too much."

"Well, speculating about things won't get us a hundred yards from
Thorlakson Siding," said Kendrick philosophically. "What's needed is a
train."

"There's no telling what may be going on back there while we sit here,
twiddling our thumbs." She got up and walked to and fro restlessly.
"Oh, if only we'd been able to go on that freight that just passed."

"We? Instructions are that I'm to wait here for McCorquodale and send
you back at once. We'll flag the first train going the right way and
you ought to get off by to-night. I'd better get busy and write out a
reply to the wire. Mr. McAllister is anxious about your safety and
it----"'

"Oh, drat McAllister!" cried Cristy impatiently.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Lawson," said Phil, "but please say that
again."

CHAPTER XVIII

MCCORQUODALE EXPLAINS

On the heels of the message from President Wade came Detective
McCorquodale an hour before sundown. He did not arrive on a train from
the east, as expected, but by way of the old Indian trail that wound
back for half a mile to Wolverine River, the trail once used by Indian
hunters to go north into the game country. 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.

"Well, well, well!" was the greeting McCorquodale launched. "He tore
the false beard off his chin an' there--stood--Tom! How are you,
Kendrick?"

Phil eyed him anxiously as they shook hands.

"Drop out of the clouds, man? I just got the Chief's wire this
afternoon. In heaven's name, McCorquodale, what's the meaning of all
this?"

"Heaven aint sittin' in on this hand, 'bo," grinned the C.L.S.
detective cheerfully. "It's devils I'm trailin'. Hell's broke loose
an' spilled 'em all over the map."

"What do you mean? What's happened? Is my aunt----?"

"Oh, y'needn't worry' bout y'r aunti