Philip Steele

“ She was free. And for him—Philip Steele—there was hope—hope—Suddenly it dawned upon him what the flowers meant. The colonel had written the letter, and Isobel had sent the faded violets, with their golden thread. It was her message to him—a message without words, and yet with a deeper meaning for him than words could have expressed. In a flood there rushed back upon him all the old visions which he had fought against, and he saw her again in the glow of the campfire, and on the trail, glorious in her beauty, his ideal of all that a woman should be. ”

“ One day a slender, athletically built young man enlisted at Regina for service in the Northwest Mounted Police. Within six months he had made several records for himself, and succeeded in having himself detailed to service in the extreme North, where man-hunting became the thrilling game of One against One in an empty and voiceless world. And no one, not even the girl of the hyacinth letter, would have dreamed that the man who was officially listed as “Private Phil Steele, of the N.W.M.P.,” was Philip Steele, millionaire and gentleman adventurer. ”

“ As the jigger stopped Philip jumped from his seat and held out a blistered hand. “I'm Steele—Philip Steele, of the Northwest Mounted.”
“And I'm Billinger—agent,” said the other.
Philip noticed that the hand that gripped his own was raw and bleeding. “I got your word, and I've received instructions from the department to place myself at your service. My wife is at the key. I've found the trail, and I've got two horses. But there isn't another man who'll leave up there for love o' God or money. It's horrible! ”

“ It called for Philip Steele at Hymers.
It commanded him in the name of Inspector MacGregor of the Royal Mounted to reach Bleak House Station without delay. What he was to do when he arrived at the scene of the wreck was left to his own judgment. The wire from MacGregor aroused Philip from the stupor of horror into which he had fallen. Gunn's girlish face was as white as a sheet.
“I've got a jigger,” he said, “and you can take it. It's forty miles to Bleak House and you can make it in three hours. There won't be a train for six.” ”

“ It was low, so low that it had in it the ring of something more than mere desire for answer, and when the inspector turned, Philip observed a thing that he had never seen before—a flush in MacGregor's face. His pale eyes gleamed. His voice was filled with an intense earnestness as he repeated the question. “I want to know, Steele. Are you beauty-proof?”
In spite of himself Philip felt the fire rising in his own face. In that moment the inspector could have hit on no words that would have thrilled him more deeply than those which he had spoken. Beauty-proof! Did MacGregor know? ”

“ Great was the joy of Philip that his son’s first wish was to be a leader of men in war, and that he had done this great thing, so he granted it with good will. “I give thee, O son,” said he, “one hundred of my best horses, and sixty thousand gold pieces from my coffers, and the best of my chieftains and proved princes to be thy men, and free of my house shalt thou be, to abide there in peace, or to go from it to seek adventure in war. Thou hast done a man’s deed, and man shalt thou be called.” ”

“ Manson was a born master, who had risen step by step into the position of division superintendent. Added to this, he was quiet, taciturn and unemotional. John Steele, on the other hand, was the embodiment of good-fellowship; talkative, humourous, genial; who believed every one around him as honest and whole-hearted as himself. But there were those beneath him who had regarded themselves quite properly in the line of promotion, and whose ambitions had been stirred when it became known that Philip Manson was about to retire. ”

“ Then, to their chagrin and dismay, an outsider had been chosen for the place who, two years before, was little better than an office boy among them, and their friendliness for him at that time had been merely a tribute to his unfailing good nature; his willingness to help. This universal liking, however, was perhaps unconsciously tinged with contempt. Their feeling was rather admiration for a joyous soul than respect for a young fellow of talent. No one had an inkling of Steele’s real merit except Philip Manson, and this silent man never volunteered information. ”

“ It's a job for the greenest rookie in the service, and yet I swear that there isn't another man in Saskatchewan to whom I would talk as I am about to talk to you. Rather paradoxical, isn't it?”
“Rather,” agreed Philip.
“And yet not when you come to understand the circumstances,” continued the inspector, placing the photograph face down on the table and looking at the other through a purple cloud of tobacco smoke. “You see, Steele, I know who you are. I know that your father is Philip Steele, the big Chicago banker. ”

“ As the woman turned to greet him Steele felt a suddenly sickening sensation grip at his heart. Her cheeks, too, were flushed, and the color in them deepened still more when he bowed to her and joined the two men at the table. The colonel shook hands with him, and Philip noticed that once or twice after that his eyes shifted uneasily in the direction of the two before the fire, and that whenever the low laughter of Mrs. Becker and Nome came to them he paid less attention to the columns of figures which Breed was pointing out to him. ”

“ He was shocked to find himself so suspicious of everyone except Philip Manson, but even more perturbed to learn that all his old delight in work was gone. Philip Manson was ambitious to make the Wheat Belt Line the model railway of the West, and in his quiet intense purposeful way was accomplishing that object. To John this ambition seemed trivial and above all futile, when it was possible for some speculator in New York or a combination of speculators to make the road a mere pawn in a gamble; to wreck it if its ruin suited the game, to discharge every employee at a week’s notice. ”

“ Excitement, action, fighting against odds, had been the spice of life to him, and he struggled to throw off the change that had taken hold of him the moment he had opened the hyacinth-scented letter of Mrs. Becker. “You're a fool,” he argued. “You're as big a fool as Bucky Nome. My God—you—Phil Steele—letting a married woman upset you like this!”
It was near midnight when he came to Pierrot's cabin, but a light was still burning in the half-breed's log home. Philip kicked off his snow shoes and knocked at the door. ”

“ He was holding Philip's communication when the young man entered.
“I don't know what to say to this, Steele,” he began, seating himself at his desk and motioning Philip to a chair. “To be frank with you, this proposition of yours is entirely against my best judgment.”
“In other words, you haven't sufficient confidence in me,” added Philip.
“No, I don't mean that. There isn't a man on the force in whom I have greater confidence than you. But, if I was to gamble, I'd wager ten to one that you'd lose out if I sent you up to take this man DeBar.” ”

“ I’ll take it like a shot, and raise the freight rates on soap if Philip will let me.”
He seized a telegraph blank and wrote:
Heartiest congratulations. The right man in right place. You need not come to New York, as I am leaving for home to-night. I shall accept your opening, whatever it is.
Before two days were past, John Steele was closeted with Manson in the president’s room of the huge Wheat Belt building. The great, flat table in the centre was covered with broad maps taken from the civil engineer’s department, maps unknown to the general public. ”

“ On the third day they swung to the eastward to strike the Indians living along Reindeer Lake, and on the sixth cut a trail by compass straight for Nelson House. A week later they arrived at the post, and Philip found a letter awaiting him calling him to Prince Albert. In a way the summons was a relief to him. He bade Pierrot good-by, and set out for Le Pas in company with two Indians. From that point he took the work train to Etomami, and three hours later was in Prince Albert.
“Rest up for a time, Steele,” Inspector MacGregor told him, after he had made a personal report on Bucky Nome. ”

“ Fact is, we have a way of our own of running down records—”
“And a confounded clever one it must be,” interrupted Philip irreverently. “Had you any—any particular reason for supposing me to be 'beauty-proof,' as you call it?” he added coldly.
“I've told you my only reason,” said the inspector, leaning over his desk. “You've seen so many pretty faces, Steele, and you've associated with them so long that one up here isn't going to turn your head. Now—”
MacGregor hesitated, and laughed. The flush grew deeper in his cheeks, and he looked again at the photograph. ”

“ STEELE or STEEL, RICHARD (1629–1692) , nonconformist divine, son of Robert Steele, farmer, was born at Barthomley, Cheshire, on 10 May 1629. He was educated at Northwich grammar school, admitted sizar at St. John's College, Cambridge, on 1 April 1642, and incorporated M.A. at Oxford on 5 July 1656. He succeeded Thomas Porter as rector of Hanmer, Flintshire, probably in 1650. Henry Newcome [q. v.] visited him there on 10 June 1654. He was a member of the fourth Shropshire classis (constituted by parliament in April 1647) , and, as such, was one of the ordainers of Philip Henry [q. v.] ”

“ I've got a selfish end in view, for you may be able to assist me. But nothing must go beyond yourself. What do you say to the condition?”
“I will not break your confidence—unless you have murdered some one,” laughed Philip, stooping to light a fresh pipe. “In that event you'd better keep quiet, as I'd have to haul you back to headquarters.”
He did not see the deepening of the flush in the other's face.
“Good,” said the doctor. “Sit down, Steele. I take it for granted that you will help me—if you can. ”

“ In that instant he sat as rigid as if he had stopped the beat of his own life. A pair of dark eyes laughing in at him, a flash of laughing teeth, a low titter that was scarce more than a rippling throat-note, and the face was gone, leaving him still staring into the blank space where it had been.
With a cough to give warning of his wakefulness, Steele flung off his blanket and drew himself through the low opening of the tent. On the extreme right of the fire stood a man and woman, warming themselves over the coals. ”

“ From Warmington to Portandit or to Tobasco is a long night’s ride. The “Thunderbolt” leaves the Junction on the Burdock Route at 8 p.m. The “Pacific Express,” on the Midland, departs at 8.20; one train from the south side of the station, the other from the north.
At ten minutes to eight Philip Manson received a telephone message asking him to remain within call. A short time after, when the men were coupling the private car to the west-bound train, Steele rushed in to the telephone cabin and shouted:
“That you, Mr. Manson?”
“Yes; who are you?” ”

“ You've the making of a good outlaw, Bucky,” he smiled tauntingly, “and if you follow your natural bent you'll have some of your old friends after you, good and hard. You'd better steer clear of that though, and try your hand at being honest for once. M'sieur Janette wants to give you this chance, and you'd better make good time. So get a move on, Bucky. You'll need a blanket and a little grub, that's all.”
“Steele, you don't mean this! Good God, man—” Nome had half risen to his feet. “You don't mean this!”
With his free hand Philip took out his watch. ”

“ Once—twice, and the outlaw was speeding ahead of him again, unhurt. A third shot and the man stumbled among the rocks and disappeared. There was no movement toward retreat on the part of the mounted men, and Philip listened as he slipped in fresh cartridges. His horse was panting; he could hear the excited and joyous tumult of his own heart-but above it all he heard the steady beat, beat, beat of those approaching hoofs! Billinger would be there soon—in time to use his carbine at a deadly rate, while he got into closer quarters with his revolver. God bless Billinger—and his broken leg! ”

“ This handed over, he returned to his office, opened the safe, took out the Northern Pacific securities, and placed them on his desk. For an hour and a half he was busy giving directions to this man or that, then a telegram was brought in to him from Philip Manson.
“Very sorry, but have lost everything I possessed in yesterday’s panic.”
“Poor old Manson,” mused Steele sadly. “So he was caught in the trap too. Well, after all, when an old and experienced man is nipped, there is some excuse for myself.” He thrust the securities in his pocket, put on his hat, and paid a visit to Colonel Beck. ”

“ He was glad when supper was over and he was back in his own cabin smoking his pipe. It was almost with a feeling of shame that he took the golden hair from his wallet and held it once more so that it shone before his eyes in the firelight.
“You're crazy, Phil Steele,” he assured himself. “You're an unalloyed idiot. What the deuce has Colonel Becker's wife got to do with you—even if she has golden hair and uses cream-tinted paper soaked in hyacinth? ”

“ You lose all hope of finding her, and your 'man' does just what the big chief said he would do, and lays you out—though it wasn't your fault after all. Then you take possession of another man's shack when he isn't at home, eat his grub, nurse a broken head, and wonder why the devil you ever joined the glorious Royal Mounted when you've got money to burn. You're a wise one, you are, Phil Steele—but you've learned something new. ”