TRUTH #S STRANGER THAN FICTION * By OLDTIMER * T WAS ONE of those typical fall I days we get on the Coast, Slash fires from nearby logging opera- tions had hazed the air and dulled the afternoon sun’s brightness. There was that acrid tang of wood smoke every- where and down on the inlet the sea was leaden and still, littered with drift. It was the kind of afternoon when erilse are biting, coho are taking a bucktail and the hunting season is just around the next corner. Quatcum was a nice station and the two of us, Corporal Jack McCluskey and I, got along well. Mac had 12 years’ service, the last two at Quatcum. I had just finished my first three-year hitch, and this was my first detach- ment. We were both in the police office this afternoon; Mac had just finished banging out a report on the type- writer. At least he had picked it out, for typing wasn’t Mac’s long suit. I was over at the counter checking over some deer tags. You know how the blame things get out of order. Mac was standing looking out of the window at the Inlet. We had a grand view from that window; right across to Mosquito Island, with the Ko- matko range, 30 miles away, rising up behind the island, jagged, cold and ghost-like in the haze. I was busy with the numbers on the tags and wasn’t paying much attention to Mac until I heard: “,..and the truth is always stranger than fiction.” “What’s that about fiction?” I said, Alf's Bus & Taxi Service TAXIS AT TOFINO and UCLUELET 24-Hour Service Prop.: A. KADATZ Page Forty-eight The title of this story is apt—for the incidents actually happened. ‘Cpl. Jack McCluskey” transferred to R.C.M.P. this year. dropping the last tag on the wire. “I said,” repeated Mac, “truth is always stranger than fiction.” “Gimme a f’rnstance?” I challenged, knowing he had something on his mind. “Well, now come to think of it, I can,’ he said, as he turned and reached in his desk drawer for the makings. He had a sly, sort of whim- sical look on his face. I let him roll his cigarette, and when he got it going he sank himself into a swivel chair. He still had that funny smile. “I’m going to leave out names, mind you,” he said, after a drag at his cigarette, “but the rest of it is gospel.” I settled myself in another chair. The Corporal’s Story “This happened about 12 years ago,” he went on, “when I was sta- tioned at Soda Springs. I had just joined the police and was still a pro- bationer. Old Bill Hopkins was in charge, but he’d gone down to Van- couver on an escort, and I was left in charge. And ready to handle any- thing!” “Well one night, a few days after Bill left, a little general store a mile or two down the road caught fire and burned to the ground. It was run by a couple of old batchelors, nice old fellows. They lived together in a couple of rooms above the store. “As soon as I got word of the fire I whipped off in the police car to help try and save the building. There was quite a crowd on hand. But it was no use. The place was a mass of flames and in half-an-hour the whole she- bang had burned to the ground. A few hours later there were just hot embers, blackened pots and pans, a twisted bedstead, and a few charred beams. Kind of pathetic to see the old fellows’ stock and trade and their home all go up at once—so sudden like. “There was no sign of the old men around the fire,” continued Mac, “and at daylight when things had cooled off a little I began to explore. around. Pretty soon I found the re- mains of the two bodies in the charred ruins. Mind you, I was very much the rookie. Up to that time I had never seen the remains of anyone burned up in a fire. In fact I hadn’t seen any remains period!” and Mack gave a chuckle. He went on: “I slipped in a telegram right away to district headquarters, reporting the fire and two deaths. And back came a reply which said in effect, ‘Stand back McCluskey, better men than you will handle this.” And on the evening train in came two sergeants, one with a record for investigation that was hard to beat. Fire Probe “Well, I just stood around and watched, figuring I would learn some- thing. The two of them made what seemed to me to be a pretty thorough examination of the fire and they came BAMFIELD LODGE CLEAN COMFORTABLE ROOMS — CAFE — * BAMFIELD V.L, B.C. THE SHOULDER STRAP