VALLEY OF NO ECHO.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 60, Issue 132, 15 March 1940, Page 7

VALLEY OF NO ECHO.

By T. C. BRIDGES.

:: (Copyright). 1

Thrills and Perils of Canadian Police Work. $

CHAPTER YIII

“Sit down, Marlow,” said the Inspector kindly. “1 have a piece of news for you. You are promoted to be Corporal.” Keith flushed slightly. “Thank you, sir,” he said. Then oil the spur of the moment he handed his letter to the officer. “Two pieces oi good news in one day ,sir,” he added.

“INDIANS GETTING DOPE’’

Duncan Maclaine did not show Keith a copy of the report which he whelessecl to Regina, but the reply which came on the following clay gave both Corporal and Constable a bit of a shock. They were told that Inspector Curtis was coming north by 'plane, that they were to hold Dranner against his arrival, and that Keith was to be ready to come South in charge of the prisoner. “Ye are a lucky lad, Keith, ’ said Duncan. “Ye will, get a fortnight or maybe a month of civilisation.” “But i thought you didn’t like civilisation,” grinned Keith. *“i dinna like the sort they keep in London or Glesea. liegina is well enough and the whisky is good.” “The whisky doesn’t make much oclcls to me,” said Keith, “but all the same I’m looking forward to it. Pei'haps 1 can find out something about the Ardens.” . . ~ “Crazy ye are about that girl. growled Duncan. “Noo ye can set to redding up the place. The Inspector has the eye of a hawk for a pinch ol dirt.” It wasthree days before the plane, carrying Inspector Curtis, made its landing on the ice of Moose Riv ei at. the edge of the town. The Inspector a tall, slim, keen-eyed man of about thirty-five who had the reputation of being a martinet, found no fault with the barracks, and praised the supper that Keith and Duncan set before linn. He made Keith tell the whole story of the capture of Dranner oyer again. When Keith had finished he nodded. “You were lucky,” he said drily. Then he smiled. “It was a good show. I hope you mean to stay with the Foice Marlow.” Keith stared at the speaker. “Why, of course, sir/’ ho answered, and was amazed to hear liis superior official laugh. “I may remind you of that promise later on,” said Curtis. He paused then spoke to Duncan. “Maclaine, has there been any trouble among the Indians of late?” “Not aboot this part, sir. But I’m hearing that they Kuchins are no very restful.” “You’ve heard the truth. Some swine has been selling liquor to the poor devils, and I suspect dope. Veiy queer stories have been leaking down, but one thing is certain—that they have been holding potlatch and devil dances. We have sent Harman and Bishop to investigate. I want you to keep youi eyes open, Maclaine.” “But they will na come this way, sir.” “They might. The dope blight come North by ’plane.” Maclaine nodded. ‘-‘Aye, it might,” he said, briefly. WINDFALL FOR KEITH. f . Next morning the Inspector, with Keith and the prisoner, went south by air. It was snug enough in that enclosed cabin, and, as Keith watched the rozen wilderness reel away beneath he was devoutly grateful to bo travelling in such comfort instead of the loot-slogging which had been his lot for the past weary weeks. Two nights later he supped in the well-warmed barracks of Regina, and realised with intense, though well-concealed delight, that liis fellows looked on him no longer as a raw recruit, but as a man who had pulled off a difficult job, and one which reflected credit on the force. He was made to tell the whole story of his arrest of Dranner, and next day found that it occupied a prominent place in the local paper. On the following morning' it figured in the Montreal, Toronto, and Quebec papers, and a lot of sly fun was poked at Keith.

“Would you mind reading this.” Curtis frowned as lie finished the letter and gayo it back. “Then you are leaving the service, Marlow.”

“Not unless I’m thrown out, sir,” Keith answered promptly. The frown changed to a smile. ■ “I'm glad, Marlow. We need men of your stamp. Stick to the service and with your qualities and education you arc safe for promotion. I’ll see to jt that you have your chance.” Keith thanked him with real gratitude and Curtis left the room.

Keith’s leg mended steadily and in less than a month he was on duty again. He had expected to be sent back to Sundance, but had to remain at Regina in order to give evidence at Dranner’s trial which was fixed for January, so the weeks passed and when December came he was still in barracks.

Then came a pleasant surprise. He was granted a month’s leave, and since he had more than £IOO in the bank he decided to run across to Montreal. John Blanchard, who had been captain of Keith’s house at school, was in a bank, there. He sent Blanchard a wire and left by the next train. Blanchard was delighted to see Keith, took him to his club, and introduced him all round. Everyone had heard of Keith’s exploit and Keith was embarrassed to find himself looked upon as something of a hero. He had numerous invitations and a thoroughly good time. Girls smiled on him Hut Keith was faithful to the memory of Grace Arden. He thought of hor t constantly and wondered how and when ho could see her again. One evening Keith was a, member of a sleighing party which drove out to a road-house at Altaniont to dine and dance. It was a big place and others besides Keith’s party, were there. Keith danced till he was tired then he, Blanchard and a man named Leech went into the supper room and ordered a grill. “I ARREST YOU ...” At a table on the far side of the room sat a man who attracted Keith’s attention. Ho was big, blond, handsome and perfectly dressed but he had the coldest grey eyes Keith had ever seen in a human face. With him was a. slim dark girl who would have been extremely pretty if she had not looked so wretchedly ill. Even her make-up failed to hide her pallor and Keith noticed that she ate nothing hut kept on sipping what looked like a pretty stiff whisky and soda. “Who’s that?” he asked of Blanchard. Blanchard glanced at the big man and frowned. "

“Paul Marrable,” he answered. “I don’t know much about him personaly but the general opinion is that he’s a nasty piece of goods.” “And the girl?” said Keith. John Blanchard shook his iiead.

“He always has one in tow. Takes ’em up and chucks ’em down. This is the latest and by the look of her pretty, nearly finished.” “'Swine!” said Keith slowly as he watched the pair. It was odd but nevpr before had he taken such an instant and intense dislike to any man as to this big, blond brute. The grill came, the waiter was serving, and 1 for the moment Keith’s attention was distracted from the couple on the other side of the (room,. It was brought back by an agonised cry. “Chet! No. Oh, mercy!”

The girl, half collapsed in her chair, was gazing with horror-filled eyes at a second an an who was by her table. The newcomer, who was quite young, was slim and dark as the girl and extraordinarily like her except that his face was far stronger than hers. For a moment h:e stared down at her in silence, then slipped his arm round lior and lifted her.

But Keith had something else to think of. The kick on the shin which Dranner had given him had left a very sore place and when the polico doctor examined it, he tolcl Keith that the bone was bruised and that-he must lie up for a. month. So Keith went into hospital, where good feeding and rest put back on his bones the flesh which he had lost during his hard journey. A fortnight later Keith* had a letter with an English postmark _ and recognised the writing on the envelope as that of his Uncle George Anson. “Dear Keith,” his uncle wrote, “with much pleasure I have read ol your exploit in arresting this murderer, Dranner. I am not greatly surprised, for I knew that you had the qualities necessary for such a task if you chose to cultivate and exert them. I confess that there was a time when you were leading an idle irresponsible life in England that I almost despaired of your making a success, but it seems plain that the discipline you have endured as a member of the world’s most famous police force, has made a man of you. “I had always intended to make some provision for your future, as the son of my only sister, but originally my intention was to give you an allowance which would be paid by my trustees. I have now changed my mind and drawn up a. new will by which, at my death, you will become my heir. In the meantime you will receive an allowance of £4OO a year paid quarterly which, with your pay, should make you comfortable. “You see I take it for granted that you will remain in the Force for the present, but, if you desire to take up any other career, I shall be ready to help and finance you. “I shall be glad to hear from you if you have time to write. “Your affectionate Uncle, “George Anson.” CORPORAL MARLOW. Keith read the letter through twice. He drew a long breath. “Tho dear old chap!” he said slowly. He sat quite still, trying to realise ]iis position. Georgo Anson, he knew, was a very rich man. Jn spite ol death duties, he, Keith, w r ould have an income on which lie could keep a big yacht if be so desired. He could travel where bo pleased, in fact, do almost anything he liked. “Poor old Colin!” he said aloud, and just then tho door opened and Inspector Curtis entered the ward which at tho moment was empty except fox Keith. Keith stood up and saluted.

“Come with me, Celia,” he said quietly. Marrable got up, towering over the younger man. “Who the devil are you?” lie demanded harshly and hi§ big, white hand grasped the dark lad’s shoulder. The latter released Oelia who dropped back into her chair fainting. “Take your hand off me you filthy beast,” he said in a voice, which, though not loud, carried all over the room. A dull flush rose to Marrable’s cheeks. His great fist shot out; the boy crashed into the nearest table and fell limply to the floor. Keith was across the room in six strides.

“I am a police officer,” he said. “I arrest you fojr brawling in a public place.” “You’ll have a job,” sneered Marrable and struck out again with fearful force. (To be Continued.)