It may be a dubious undertaking, but as I see it
the only thing for us is to hang on the flank of these man-hunters till
we can lay hold of one of that red-handed quartette. According to Burky,
two of them, at least, are in that troop. Probably the others are. And
knowing that bunch as well as I do, I don't think they'll lift the
plunder and quit the country till they can go together. Even if we can't
get hold of one of them, we can keep track of their movements, and if
they _do_ lift their _cache_ and pull out, why, that would be as good as
we want. I wouldn't ask anything better than to get a fair chance at
that bunch with the stolen money on them."
I'll admit that, soberly considered, MacRae's plan did look exceeding
risky. No one could appreciate better than ourselves the unpleasant
possibilities that stared us in the face. But things had narrowed to a
point where only two courses were open to us--one, to throw up our hands
and quit the jurisdiction of the Mounted Police, which involved
desertion on MacRae's part, and on mine a chicken-hearted abandonment of
La Pere's trust in me (for, rightly or wrongly, I was given over to the
feeling that on me alone rested the responsibility for the loss or
recovery of La Pere's money); the other, to take any measure, no matter
how desperate, that would unravel the tangle.
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