Corporal Cameron of the North West Mounted Police
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第11章

Dunn gazed about the room. It was in a whirl of confusion. Pipes and pouches, a large box of cigarettes, a glass and a half-empty decanter, were upon the table; boots, caps, golf-clubs, coats, lay piled in various corners. "Pardon the confusion, dear sir," cried Cameron cheerfully, "and lay it not to the charge of my landlady.

That estimable woman was determined to make entry this afternoon, but was denied." Cameron's manner one of gay and nervous bravado.

"Come, Cameron," said Dunn sadly, "what does this mean? You're not serious; you're not chucking your year?"

"Just that, dear fellow, and nothing less. Might as well as be ploughed."

"And what then are you going to do?" Dunn's voice was full of a great pity. "What about your people? What about your father?

And, by Jove, that reminds me, he's coming to town this evening.

You know they've been trying to find you everywhere this last day or two."

"And who are 'they,' pray?"

"Who? The police," said Dunn bluntly, determined to shock his friend into seriousness.

Cameron sat up quickly. "The police? What do you mean, Dunn?"

"What it means I do not know, Cameron, I assure you. Don't you?"

"The police!" said Cameron again. "It's a joke, Dunn."

"I wish to Heaven it were, Cameron, old man! But I have it straight from Mr. Rae, your family solicitor. They want you."

"Old Rae?" exclaimed Cameron. "Now what the deuce does this all mean?"

"Don't you really know, old chap?" said Dunn kindly, anxiety and relief struggling in his face.

"No more than you. What did the old chap say, anyway?"

"Something about a Bank; an irregularity, he called it, a serious irregularity. He's had it staved off for a day."

"The Bank? What in Heaven's name have I got to do with the Bank?

Let's see; I was there a week or ten days ago with--" he paused.

"Hang it, I can't remember!" He ran his hands through his long black locks, and began to pace the room.

Dunn sat watching him, hope and fear, doubt and faith filling his heart in succession.

Cameron sat down with his face in his hands. "What is it, old man?

Can't I help you?" said Dunn, putting his hand on his shoulder.

"I can't remember," muttered Cameron. "I've been going it some, you know. I had been falling behind and getting money off Potts.

Two weeks ago I got my monthly five-pound cheque, and about ten days ago the usual fifty-pound cheque to square things up for the year, fees, etc. Seems to me I cashed those. Or did Potts?

Anyway I paid Potts. The deuce take it, I can't remember! You know I can carry a lot of Scotch and never show it, but it plays the devil with my memory." Cameron was growing more and more excited.

"Well, old chap, we must go right along to Mr. Rae's office. You don't mind?"

"Mind? Not a bit. Old Rae has no love for me,--I get him into too much trouble,--but he's a straight old boy. Just wait till I brush up a bit." He poured out from a decanter half a glass of whiskey.

"I'd cut that out if I were you," said Dunn.

"Later, perhaps," replied Cameron, "but not to-day."

Within twenty minutes they were ushered into Mr. Rae's private office. That gentleman received them with a gravity that was portentous in its solemnity. "Well, Sir, you have succeeded in your task," he said to Mr. Dunn. "I wish to thank you for this service, a most valuable service to me, to this young gentleman, and to his family; though whether much may come of it remains to be seen."

"Oh, thanks," said Dunn hurriedly. "I hope everything will be all right." He rose to go. Cameron looked at him quickly. There was no mistaking the entreaty in his face.

Mr. Rae spoke somewhat more hurriedly than his wont. "If it is not asking too much, and if you can still spare time, your presence might be helpful, Mr. Dunn."

"Stay if you can, old chap," said Cameron. "I don't know what this thing is, but I'll do better if you're in the game, too." It was an appeal to his captain, and after that nothing on earth could have driven Dunn from his side.

At this point the door opened and the clerk announced, "Captain Cameron, Sir."

Mr. Rae rose hastily. "Tell him," he said quickly, "to wait--"

He was too late. The Captain had followed close upon the heels of the clerk, and came in with a rush. "Now, what does all this mean?" he cried, hardly waiting to shake hands with his solicitor.

"What mischief--?"

"I beg your pardon, Captain," said Mr. Rae calmly, "let me present Mr. Dunn, Captain Dunn, I might say, of International fame." The solicitor's smile broke forth with its accustomed unexpectedness, but had vanished long before Mr. Dunn in his embarrassment had finished shaking hands with Captain Cameron.

The Captain then turned to his son. "Well, Sir, and what is this affair of yours that calls me to town at a most inconvenient time?"

His tone was cold, fretful, and suspicious.

Young Cameron's face, which had lighted up with a certain eagerness and appeal as he had turned toward his father, as if in expectation of sympathy and help, froze at this greeting into sullen reserve.

"I don't know any more than yourself, Sir," he answered. "I have just come into this office this minute."

"Well, then, what is it, Mr. Rae?" The Captain's voice and manner were distinctly imperious, if not overbearing.

Mr. Rae, however, was king of his own castle. "Will you not be seated, Sir?" he said, pointing to a chair. "Sit down, young gentlemen."

His quiet dignity, his perfect courtesy, recalled the Captain to himself. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Rae, but I am really much disturbed. Can we begin at once?" He glanced as he spoke at Mr. Dunn, who immediately rose.

"Sit down, Mr. Dunn," said Mr. Rae quietly. "I have asked this young gentleman," he continued, turning to the Captain, "to remain.

He has already given me valuable assistance. I fancy he may be able to serve us still further, if he will be so good."

Mr. Dunn bowed in silence.