tossed a couple of dry matches to the Wolf when the latter had built a little mound of dry poplar twigs and birch bark.
When the fire was going Carney said: "Peel your coat and dry it; stand close to the fire so your pants dry too – I want that suit."
The Wolf was startled. Was retribution so hot on his trail? Was Carney about to set him afoot just as he had set afoot Sergeant Heath? His two hundred dollars and Lucy Black's five hundred were in the pocket of that coat also. As he took it off he turned it upside down, hoping for a chance to slip the parcel of money to the ground unnoticed of his captor.
"Throw the jacket here," Carney commanded; "seems to be papers in the pocket."
When the coat had been tossed to him, Carney sat down on a fallen tree, took from it two packets – one of papers, and another wrapped in strong paper. He opened the papers, reading them with one eye while with the other he watched the man by the fire. Presently he sneered: "Say, you're some liar – even for a government hound; your name's not Phillips, it's Heath. You're the waster who fooled the little girl at Golden. You're the bounder who came down from the Klondike to gather Bulldog Carney in; you shot off your mouth all along the line that you were going to take him singlehanded. You bet a man in Edmonton a hundred you'd tie him hoof and horn. Well, you lose, for I'm going to rope you first, see? Turn you over to the Government tied up like a bag of spuds; that's just what I'm going to do, Sergeant Liar. I'm going to break you for the sake of that little girl at Golden, for she was my friend and I'm Bulldog Carney. Soon as that suit is dried a bit you'll strip and pass it over; then you'll get into my togs and I'm going to turn you over to the police as Bulldog Carney.
"D'you get me, kid?" Carney chuckled. "That'll break you, won't it, Mister Sergeant Heath? You can't stay in the Force a joke; you'll never live it down if you live to be a thousand – you've boasted too much."
The Wolf had remained silent – waiting. He had an advantage if his captor did not know him. Now he was frightened; to be turned in at Edmonton by Carney was as bad as being taken by Sergeant Heath.
"You can't pull that stuff, Carney," he objected; "the minute I tell them who I am and who you are they'll grab you too quick. They'll know me; perhaps some of them'll know you."
A sneering "Ha!" came from between the thin lips of the man on the log. "Not where we're going they won't, Sergeant. I know a little place over on the rail" – and he jerked his thumb toward the west – "where there's two policemen that don't know much of anything; they've never seen either of us. You ain't been at Edmonton more'n a couple of months since you came from the Klondike. But they do know that Bulldog Carney is wanted at Calgary and that there's a thousand dollars to the man that brings him in."
At this the Wolf pricked his ears; he saw light – a flood of it. If this thing went through, and he was sent on to Calgary as Bulldog Carney, he would be turned loose at once as not being the man. The police at Calgary had cause to know just what Carney looked like for he had been in their clutches and escaped.
But Jack must bluff – appear to be the angry Sergeant. So he said: "They'll know me at Calgary, and you'll get hell for this."
Now Carney laughed out joyously. "I don't give a damn if they do. Can't you get it through your wooden police head that I just want this little pleasantry driven home so that you're the goat of that nanny band, the Mounted Police; then you'll send in your papers and go back to the farm?"
As Carney talked he had opened the paper packet. Now he gave a crisp "Hello! what have we here?" as a sheaf of bills appeared.
The Wolf had been watching for Carney's eyes to leave him for five seconds. One hand rested in his trousers pocket. He drew it out and dropped a knife, treading it into the sand and ashes.
"Seven hundred," Bulldog continued. "Rather a tidy sum for a policeman to be toting. Is this police money?"
The Wolf hesitated; it was a delicate situation. Jack wanted that money but a slip might ruin his escape. If Bulldog suspected that Jack was not a policeman he would jump to the conclusion that he had killed the owner of the horse and clothes. Also Carney would not believe that a policeman on duty wandered about with seven hundred in his pocket; if Jack claimed it all Carney would say he lied and keep it as Government money.
"Five hundred is Government money I was bringin' in from a post, and two hundred is my own," he answered.
"I'll keep the Government money," Bulldog said crisply; "the Government robbed me of my ranch – said I had no title. And I'll keep yours, too; it's coming to you."
"If luck strings with you, Carney, and you get away with this dirty trick, what you say'll make good – I'll have to quit the Force; an' I want to get home down east. Give me a chance; let me have my own two hundred."
"I think you're lying – a man in the Force doesn't get two hundred ahead, not honest. But I'll toss you whether I give you one hundred or two," Carney said, taking a half dollar from his pocket. "Call!" and he spun it in the air.
"Heads!" the Wolf cried.
The coin fell tails up. "Here's your hundred," and Bulldog passed the bills to their owner.
"I see here," he continued, "your order to arrest Bulldog Carney. Well, you've made good, haven't you. And here's another for Jack the Wolf; you missed him, didn't you? Where's he – what's he done lately? He played me a dirty trick once; tipped off the police as to where they'd get me. I never saw him, but if you could stake me to a sight of the Wolf I'd give you this six hundred. He's the real hound that I've got a low down grudge against. What's his description – what does he look like?"
"He's a tall slim chap – looks like a breed, 'cause he's got nigger blood in him," the Wolf lied.
"I'll get him some day," Carney said; "and now them duds are about cooked – peel!"
The Wolf stripped, gray shirt and all.
"Now step back fifteen paces while I make my toilet," Carney commanded, toying with his 6-gun in the way of emphasis.
In two minutes he was transformed into Sergeant Heath of the N. W. M. P., revolver belt and all. He threw his own clothes to the Wolf, and lighted his pipe.
When Jack had dressed Carney said: "I saved your life, so I don't want you to make me throw it away again. I don't want a muss when I turn you over to the police in the morning. There ain't much chance they'd listen to you if you put up a holler that you were Sergeant Heath – they'd laugh at you, but if they did make a break at me there's be shooting, and you'd sure be plumb in line of a careless bullet – see? I'm going to stay close to you till you're on that train."
Of course this was just what the Wolf wanted; to go down the line as Bulldog Carney, handcuffed to a policeman, would be like a passport for Jack the Wolf. Nobody would even speak to him – the policeman would see to that.
"You're dead set on putting this crazy thing through, are you?" he asked.
"You bet I am – I'd rather work this racket than go to my own wedding."
"Well, so's you won't think your damn threat to shoot keeps me mum, I'll just tell you that if you get that far with it I ain't going to give myself away. You've called the turn, Carney; I'd be a joke even if I only got as far as the first barracks a prisoner. If I go in as Bulldog Carney I won't come out as Sergeant Heath – I'll disappear as Mister Somebody. I'm sick of the Force anyway. They'll never know what happened Sergeant Heath from me – I couldn't stand the guying. But if I ever stack up against you, Carney, I'll kill you for it." This last was pure bluff – for fear Carney's suspicions
