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.'It's farther north than a lot 'ud care to go; nor me, neither, if I hadn't got Angus with me—for which reason I've got to start back termorrer.'It may have been a movement, or it may have been instinct, that made Ginger glance over his shoulder, and he experienced a sudden pang of apprehension when he saw a man standing so close behind him that he must have overheard every word that had been said.It was the Indian who had been on the aerodrome with McBain's party when they landed.For a fleeting instant Ginger's eyes met those of the Indian, who then turned suddenly and glided away towards McBain.Ginger turned quickly to the old man, 'Just a minute,' he said.'I'd like- to bring my boss over here.' So saying, he got up and walked quickly to where Biggles was still standing, checking the parcels as they were piled up on the counter.`Biggles,' he said quietly but crisply, 'I've had a bit of luck.You remember what Wilks said in his letter about Angus Stirling, the man from whom he bought the land, and not getting the proper transfer?'Biggles stiffened.'What about it?'`Stirling's partner is in here.I've just been talking to him.Apparently they're working a claim together up north, and Stirling asked his partner—that's him, the old man in the slouch hat—to tell Wilks that he still has the transfer.It struck me that we might fly him up and collect it.You'd better come and have a word with him.'There was no need for Ginger to repeat his suggestion; almost before he had finished Biggles was on his way to the stove.'Careful,' whispered Ginger, as he followed close behind.`McBain and Co.are watching us.'Biggles nodded to show that he had heard, but he did not so much as glance in McBain's direction.`You're Angus Stirling's partner?' he began without preamble, addressing the old man.`Sure,' was the brief reply.Ìs it correct that Angus asked you to tell Wilkinson that he still has the transfer of the land he sold him?'Ày, that's right enow.That's what he said.'Ì'm glad to hear it,' Biggles went on quickly.'As it happens we need that paper badly.How far away is this claim of yours?'"Bout fifteen hundred miles.'Biggles's eyes opened wide.'Gosh, that's a bit farther than I bargained for,' he admitted frankly.'Still, that doesn't matter.Is it anywhere in Moose Creek direction?'`Pretty near due north of it—'bout twice as far, I guess.'Ànd you're- going back there?'`Sure.'`When?'`Termorrer.I aim to catch the freeze-up.She'll be froze by the time I get to the water.'In a vague sort of way Biggles realized that the old man meant that ice would have to form over a certain stretch of water so that he could get to the claim where Angus was working.'How are you going to travel?' he asked.The old man smiled and turned a bright eye on Biggles.`There ain't no trains where I'm goin', mister,' he grinned.Ìt's canoe to Moose River, where I aim to pick up my dogs.'Ìs Moose Creek somewhere on Moose River?'`Sure.'Ì asked because I'm flying up to Moose Creek tomorrow,' went on Biggles.'I reckon to make it in a day.If you care to come along with me that should save you quite a bit of time.Maybe we could go right on to the claim.How does that idea strike you?'A childish grin spread slowly over the old man's face, and he scratched his ear thoughtfully.'You mean—you aim to take me up in an airyplane?'`That's it.'`Well, I ain't never thought about travellin' that road, but I'll try anything onst.Termorrer, did you say?'`Yes.'Àll the way to Moose Creek?'`We'll go right on to the claim if there is any place where I could land.Is there a flat patch anywhere near the claim?'`Sure.'`How big is it, roughly?'Àbout ten thousand square miles.'`What!'"Tain't nothin' else but flat patch as far as yer can see —when it's froze.'`You mean this flat patch is ice?'`That's it.''Ah! I understand.'`Will there be room for the grub?' inquired the old man.Ì've got a fair load to get along—'nough to last me and Angus till the break-up.'`You can take anything up to a ton,' returned Biggles.Ì ain't got that much.'`That's all the better.Be on the aerodrome at the crack of dawn and we'll make Moose Creek in one jump.Is that a deal?'`You betcha.'`See you in the morning, then.' Biggles turned, and saw McBain's Indian backing stealthily away.'Was that fellow listening?' he asked Ginger quietly.Ì'm afraid so.I didn't notice him, though, or I'd have warned you.'`Well, I don't see that McBain can do anything to stop us,' murmured Biggles as they returned to the bar.'I've got to go to Moose Creek in the morning, anyway, and it won't be much extra trouble to go on to this claim, wherever it is.I'll get the old chap—what did they call him, Mose?—to mark the place on my map when he comes up in the morning.But we'd better finish our drinks and be getting back; Wilks will wonder what has happened to us.'Biggles paid the score and, subconsciously aware that a curious silence had fallen on the room, reached for the cup that contained the remainder of his Bovril.Simultaneously there was a deafening roar and the cup flew to smithereens, splashing the liquid in all directions.For a moment Biggles stared with startled eyes at the spot where the cup had been.Then, recovering himself quickly, he looked round.McBain was standing farther along the bar, a smoking revolver in one hand and a bottle of whisky—which presumably he intended taking away with him—in the other.From the offensive leer on his face, and his heavy-lidded eyes, it was clear that he had been drinking.No one spoke.The only sound in the room was the soft shuffle of feet as the other men in the bar began to back away out of the line of fire.`Give me another drink, boss,' requested Biggles quietly.Silence reigned while the barman prepared another cup and set it on the counter in front of Biggles, whose hand had barely started moving towards it when McBain's gun roared again and the cup flew to pieces as the first one had done.Unhurriedly, Biggles turned a reflective eye on McBain, who was now holding a glass in one hand while with the other he felt in his pocket, presumably for money to pay the score.The revolver, an almost imperceptible coil of smoke creeping from the muzzle, and the bottle of whisky rested on the bar in front of him.`Give me another drink, boss, will you?' repeated Biggles, and put his hand in his pocket as if to take out the money to pay for it.The barman set the cup in front of Biggles and then stepped back quickly.McBain stood his glass on the bar.His hand moved towards the revolver, but on this occasion things did not go in accordance with his plan.Biggles's hand jerked out of his pocket.There was a double report, the two shots coming so close together that they almost sounded like one.There was a crash of shattering glass and a metallic ping as McBain's bottle of whisky splintered into a hundred pieces and his revolver spun along the polished bar before falling behind it.Dead silence followed the shots.For a full ten seconds McBain stared unbelievingly at the puddle where the bottle had been, his right hand groping for the revolver that was no longer there.The face which he then turned to Biggles was white, mottled with dull crimson blotches.His eyes glared and a stream of profanity burst from his lips.`What's the matter, McBain?' asked Biggles evenly.Àny fool can play a game single-handed; you don't mind me joining in, surely?'The other did not answer [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]