Constable Charles Bigumpound was a patient man by nature. He was even-tempered and sometimes even lazy, but on this particular day he was glad to be working. He had been dispatched to Mile 49, on the Grand Trunk Pacific, his first assignment since arriving in the Tte Jaune Cache area. Bigumpound was issued one police revolver, one small box of shells, and a set of leg-irons when he first reported for duty at the Cache.
Inspector Walters, who had just finished supervising the construction of a new police barracks and jail-house, just east of Mile 52, sent Bigumpound and three other officers to investigate an outrageous report of a recent over-limit shooting of several caribou in the vicinity of Starvation Flats. According to the rumor, more than 12 caribou had been slaughtered by some unknown person or persons, and the meat had been sold to restaurants along the Grand Trunk Pacific mainline. Constable Ryan had been posted to Mile 53 and Constables Winslow and Scott at Mile 52. The inspector told his men to check out all the restaurants for evidence of caribou meat. This was going to be a hard task, especially for Winslow and Scott, as most of the businesses at Mile 52 served hot meals, of one sort or the other. At Mile 49 only three restaurants remained since the end-of-steel had moved down the line.
Bigumpound was sure if he stayed around Curly's Restaurant long enough he would hear something. So far, he had not excavated any hard facts. Cleverly disguised as a prospector, except for the black police boots, Bigumpound had talked briefly to the owner, Curly Smith. The constable then drifted over to the subject of local game. According to Curly, he hadn't heard the rumors of the big caribou kill. Curly bragged that all his meat had made its way into his establishment by way of the Pat Burns slaughter yards, down by the Fraser River.
Just before noon a young mountain-man entered Curly's log and canvas eating place and ordered lunch. This customer wore a floppy rimmed hat and a long, heavy, wool coat. When Charles attempted to question the lad about local game, the boy excused himself from the table for a call to nature.
Now, Constable Bigumpound sat looking out the back door of Curly's watching the outhouse. His police revolver lay across his lap.
Meanwhile, inside the biffy, Joe sat wondering about the situation. Could he possibly be taken in for bootlegging? Had one of his customers turned him in? Surely not ! And, there was no evidence! His bottles of stump-whiskey had all been delivered. He was clean. But, Joe was running out of time.
Bigumpound decided he had waited long enough. He stood up and walked into the sunlight. He addressed the outhouse with, "Come on out, mister!" There was silence. Then he tried, "We've got the goods on you now, boy." That didn't seem to work either.
As the constable began to circle the little house, at a good distance, he reached into his coat pocket for two shells. "Dag nabbit," he cursed silently to himself. The bullets were missing. Then he remembered. He had been so meticulous with his prospector's impersonation that he had neglected to bring any bullets. Now his revolver would have to be for show only.
The back view of the outhouse brought Bigumpound to a complete stop. Three planks were missing from the back wall. There was no sign of the boy in the floppy hat.
Just then, a delivery wagon pulled up to the front of the restaurant. The driver called out, "Hey, Martha! Here's your meat order. Fresh caribou. Just like yesterday." The waitress and Curly unloaded the package.
"This has gone too far!" thought Bigumpound to himself. He reached inside his vest pocket for his B.C. Police badge. He had forgotten to bring that, too.
The old prospector retired to his rooming tent at the end of the street. However, not far away, Caribou Joe was still on the run!
In the next episode, Riding the Rails, Joe is on the run from Constable Bigumpound, and he also contemplates a visit to the barber shop at Mile 49.
