Vancouver (Staunton series Ch. # XVI. The Mounties come for a visit.

                                 Vancouver (Staunton series) Chapter XVI

                                               A Visit by the Mounties

 

         The next two days were routine. Ian’s wound appeared to be healing. Lauras Sadler’s  nursing visits came daily and were much welcomed. Jim went to work and did his best to make up for Ian’s absence.

 

           That all changed on Thursday. Ian felt well enough to return to work. The wound was securely wrapped in gauze and didn’t cause Ian too much distress. The brothers arrived at the hotel site and Ian was warmly welcomed back to work by his colleagues. Like most workmen, they weren’t about to let him off without a few snarky comments.

 

       “Maybe you ought to use some mortar on your saddle, to hold you on, while riding a horse,” said Red O’ Neil, to gales of laughter from the other Masons. Others smirked and made similar comments while they worked.

The wound didn’t appear to slow Ian down. He worked with intensity ,to make up for his few days lounging about,  as Jim had called it.

 

       Lunch time came quickly. The men settled in to enjoy their food. Spike Mc Gee approached Ian and said with a grin.

 

     “Here, Ian. I have had these made up special for you.” He handed Ian two lengths of rope with small nooses tied at either end. “You tie these ropes around your ankles and then fasten the other end around your stirrups. They are guaranteed to hold you in the saddle,” he said with a big smile.

        The other masons thought this was a hoot and laughed noisily at Spike’s gift.

 

        Too his credit, Ian took all of the ribbing with good grace. He laughed along with the others, enjoying the friendly banter. From them it was a gesture of comradeship. Anyone else making comments like these would have gotten a few jabs to the jaw.

 

       They all went back to work, chuckling at Ian’s “gift.”

 

Late in the afternoon, Mr. Conners approached the Mac Adams brothers and said, “We.ve a visitor for you lads in my office.” He walked them back to the ground floor office. Inside sat a tall Red-jacketed inspector from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

 

        “Jim, Ian, this is Inspector Colin Mac Donald of the RCMP. He has a few questions for you,” said Mr. Conners. Then he left the office and closed the door.

 

          “You are the two lads who are building a brickyard up along the Fraser River, are you not?” asked Inspector Mac Donald.

 

           “We are,” said Jim.

 

            “We are searching for a lad from the logging camp who was up that way last weekend. His horse came back without him. Did either of you see anything or meet up with one of the loggers on Saturday?”

 

           “No sir,” the brothers said in unison.

 

           “The missing lad is Donald Stevenson,” said Inspector Mac Donald. “Do you know him?”

              Jim looked over at Ian and then said.” I don’t know anyone by that name Inspector.”

 

            “Hia mates said that he had a run in with you two a few weeks back, at Staunton’s;” said Mac Donald.

 

            “Ah, a big ugly son of a bitch with a full beard?” asked Jim.

 

             “That would be a good description,” said Inspector Mac Donald. “And what was that altercation all about?”

 

           “Well, one of their drunken mates had approached me a month or so back, looking to accost me physically. I put him down like the drunken dog he is,” said Jim. “Then a few weeks back, this Stevenson lad and a mate came at us in Staunton’s, looking to even up the score. Ian put him down quickly. You can ask Barney Finnegan at Staunton’s. He saw both times, when these lads meant us harm.”

 

            “You lads are good with your fists, are you?” asked Mac Donald.

 

              “We are,” said Jim. “Our father taught us well how to deal with rascals like these logger lads.”

 

                “And you have had no thoughts of evening the score?” asked Mac Donald

 

                 “No sir,” said Jim. “We’ve no need for that grief in our life. That gang of hooligans at the logger’s camp would keep on coming at us until we had to leave town.”

       

           “And was anyone with you all day,” asked Inspector Mac Donald.

 

            “Aye, said Jim. “Peter Sadler and his nephew Selkirk worked alongside of us all day. Peter works here on the site with us.”

 

             “And what time did you leave that day?” asked the Inspector.

             “I am thinking it was just after five P.M,” said Jim .”The Sadlers had just left and we needed to clean up a few things at our site, before we left.

              “And you didn’t see anyone while riding home that day?” asked  the Inspector.

 

                 “No sir,  we didn’t,” said Jim.

                  “Well, thank you lads for your time,” said Inspector Mac Donals. “I will just confirm your story with Mr.  Sadler and be on my way. Thank you for your time, Lads. Good luck with your mill.”

 

                   “Oh, you might want to be careful. A few of the loggers are grumbling and making accusations.” said Inspector Mac Donald. “I would keep clear of them in the future.” With that, he thanked the Mac Adams brothers for their time and walked off. 

 

                   “Thanks, Inspector,” said Jim. “I hope you find out what happened to the lad.” Later the lads heard that he interviewed Peter Sadler as well.

 

                      Naturally, all of the lads on the site were quick with their comments. “What did you two desperados do,” asked Spike Mc Gee?”

 

                    “Nothing, Spike. It was just a friendly inquiry. They are trying to find a logger that didn’t come back to camp,” said Jim.

 

                     “Well, up along the river, who knows?” Said Red O’Neil. “Grizzlies, two legged varmints and a number of other rascals might have taken him down.”

 

                      “I suppose,” said Jim. “I hope the Mounties solve their case.” With that the Mac Adams brothers cleaned their tools and set off for home.

                        “Do you think they have any idea what happened?” Ian asked as they walked along West Georgia Street.

 

                         “They can all think what they want,” said Jim. “They can’t prove anything. We will just have to watch out for any more of those loggers who want to have a word with us.”

 

                          “Aye,” said Ian. “Let those rascals come at us. We will put them down every time they try,” he said grimly.

 

                            “We will,” said Jim. “I think maybe we need to buy another long gun and more ammunition, for our protection as well.”

 

                           With that, the two brothers called it a night, their heads aswirl with memories of these last few weeks.

 

                                                 -30-

                                       (  1,112 words)

                                   Joseph Xavier Martin