up your hands,” came the low
mmand from the man in the top
k, as he ely stared into the police

ut ee mind was ae like a
ightning. Contemptuously he eyed the man
with the gun, and queried:
“Which one?”
“Both of them,” snapped the prisoner.

Glass in hand, Aston still ignoring the
order, slowly moved toward the bunk. As
ye moved he extended the glass of water
‘o the prisoner and as if hypnotized by the
yolice officer’s steady gaze, James stretched
nut his left hand and in slow motion the
slass changed hands. But the two pairs “of
es never ceased their intent, challenging
Each was trying to probe the other's
, waiting for the false move that would
the spell. Even as James passed the
slass of water back to Wilson, his com-
sanion behind him, his eyes still searched
Aston’s face for a weakening sign. Wilson,
nwardly quaking at the turn of ¢ events, took
che glass with trembling hand.

CALCULATED OPPORTUNITY

Then slowly Aston took another step
coward the bunk. Suddenly, the tension
was broken by the sharp click of the hammer
is James pulled the trigger. The gun mis-
fred. Truly the gods of chance seemed to
dave tipped the scales momentarily in
Aston’s favour as if in admiration of his
steady courage. But as Aston, upholding
he highest traditions of the force, sprang at
che man in the upper berth, James fired
igain. This time there was a report and the
solice officer, shot through the forehead,
swung round and collapsed on the cabin
loor with a deep groan.

Tt was the work of a minute for James
0 compel his companion’s obedience, and

The S.S. “Okanagan”, veteran C. P. R. sternwheeler on the Okanagan Lake Service.

he pair, out of the bunk and on the floor,
feverishly searched the unconscious police
ficer for leg iron keys. Unsuccessful in
heir search, James turned with a curse to
he kit bag. Slitting it open with Aston’s
pocket knife he found no keys, but pocketed

WINTER EDITION

a .38 Smith & Wesson revolver and a
handful of shells.

“This ll come in handy,” remarked James
to his companion. “If they come after me
theyll git what’s comin’ to them.”

The leg iron keys were found in the
pocket of ‘the coat on the door, and quickly
unshackled, the pair planned their next
move.

“We'll be stopping at Peachland in a few
minutes,” remarked James, “and nobody’s
heard a thing. Only one man saw us come
on the boat. That was the night clerk. He’s
off duty now and may be asleep.”

Wilson, fearful of the consequences,
ehddered as he viewed the huddled figure
of Aston on the cabin floor.

“Come on, pull yourself together,”
warned James, “we'll be miles away before
any one comes in here.”

Two doors led into the stateroom, one
from the lounge inside the ship, and the
other from the outside deck. Leaving the
inside door bolted, the two men left by the
deck entrance just as the boat touched at
Peachland. Armed and free, they slipped
up the gangplank in the chill of the mid-
March morning. Although as James pre-
dicted, the night clerk, Herbert Hinton,
was off duty, the departure of the two men
aroused suspicion in the mind of Alfred
Watson, the ship’s purser.

EscAPE AND DISCOVERY

When the Okanagan was some distance
from Peachland, Watson still mused over
the occurrence. It seemed to him that he
hadn't booked any passengers for Peach-
land. So interested was Watson that he
went to his cabin to check the passenger
list. There was no one booked for Peach-
land. Suspicions now aroused, he hunted
up the steward, Spencer Stovell. He found
Stovell in conversation with Mrs. Paul, one
of the passengers, who at the moment was
voicing her suspicions about the occupants

of cabin 34. She said she heard some
unusual sounds coming from the cabin just
before the boat tied up at Peachland. Maybe
someone was sick, urged Mrs. Paul.
Watson and Stovell immediately reported
the matter to the mate, Alec Macdonald,

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