Ten minutes later—in the N-W Mounted Police RR Car…
Corporal Liam O’Reilly had just returned from the stationmaster’s office, “Inspector, the stationmaster informs me that according to the stationmaster at Crookston, amazingly enough, the train just passed through—it will be here in about a half hour!”
“‘At is a boody fest train, hoo can they dae thes?”
“Sir, I have no idea—that’s what I was told.”
“Aye lad, Whit will be, will be. Weel ‘en, Murphy, lit us prepaur fur uir guests.”
Season 8—Chapter 5—New Adventure—Episode 7:
Continuing our story—The stolen NWNP is nearing the Canadian border…with it’s cargo of some thirty horses purchased in East Grand Forks by the North-West Mounted Police—the theft accomplished with the aid of the night stationmaster at the station—paid-off by Harry Smithers for a mere 20 dollar gold piece.
The day stationmaster had arrived to find Peter Johnson fast asleep in their office; not an unusual occurrence, there really wasn’t much happening at night. Mr. Henry Wilcox, daytime stationmaster, didn’t notice the missing rail cars and locomotive until after he woke and relieved Johnson.
Johnson, as he was leaving, feigned surprise as he “noticed” the missing rolling stock and shouted, “Wilcox! The train is….gone!”
About ten minutes earlier—in the Polk County Deputy Sheriff’s office…Inspector James MacIntyre, Master Sergeant Murphy Yatkov and their North-West Mounted Patrol contingent, after loading the horses aboard their train. were paying a courtesy visit to Polk County Deputy Sheriff Harry Bulgebottom prior to officially taking possession of the thirty horses the Crown had purchased from Polk County horse farmer Henry Pederson.
East Grand Forks, the largest town in Polk County, was not exactly a hot-bed of criminal activity—so it would be no great surprise to anyone who cared—and in truth, it would be hard to find someone who did—Bulgebottom had precious-little “sheriffing” to do and a visit by the legendary North-West Mounted Patrol may well have been the most exciting thing in his entire life. He was tripping all over his clumsy self to show some East Grand Forks hospitality, “Goodness, Yew fellers sure do look impressive! Wouldyew like sum coffee?”
“Thenk ye sheriff,” MacIntyre smiled, “Dae ye hae tea? Ah huvnae hud tea since we left Edmonton.”
“Jimmy,” Yatkov whispered to his old friend, “Provincial Americans don’t drink tea, I’m told.”
The tea issue remained unresolved, and would never be resolved as Peter Johnson rushed into the office, “Sheriff! The train’s missing!”
To be Continued...
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