country before, and I was afraid that sluice wouldn't stand inspection. In real life I'm Inspector Jack Cartwright, of N Division, working out of Fort Simpson."
Connie snickered. "Guess again! Surely, you aren't just an Inspector! Why, I thought you were the Commissioner, or at least, a Superintendent!" The man ignored the sarcasm.
"I've been on this case for six months. There are three of us working together; the others are over on the Gravel. We wanted to slip one over on B Division and, because I was satisfied all the contraband wasn't coming in from our side, I crossed the divide and located on the creek, yonder. My wife always has wanted to get a taste of the big outdoors, and I've always promised to take her, so when we got the cabin rolled up we brought her over from Fort Simpson. She's only been here two months—but I guess she's had enough."
"Yes, indeed!" interrupted the woman. "And more than enough!" The man continued: "We figured that if we could catch some of the gang with the goods, on your side of the divide, we'd have the laugh on you. We didn't know that B Division had got wind of this job, and when you came along
