"Inspector Dickson," sharply commanded the Commissioner, "find out the
man that sold that whiskey and arrest him at once!"
Cameron was profoundly impressed with the whole scene. He began to
realise as never before the tremendous responsibilities that lay upon
those charged with the administration of justice in this country. He
began to understand, too, the secret of the extraordinary hold that the
Police had upon the Indian tribes and how it came that so small a force
could maintain the "Pax Britannica" over three hundred thousand square
miles of unsettled country, the home of hundreds of wild adventurers
and of thousands of savage Indians, utterly strange to any rule or law
except that of their own sweet will.
"This police business is a big affair," he ventured to say to the
Commissioner when the court room was cleared. "You practically run the
country."
"Well," said the Commissioner modestly, "we do something to keep the
country from going to the devil. We see that every man gets a fair
show."
"It is great work!" exclaimed Cameron.
"Yes, I suppose it is," replied the Commissioner. "We don't talk about
it, of course. Indeed, we don't think of it. But," he continued, "that
blue book there could tell a story that would make the old Empire not
too ashamed of the men who 'ride the line' and patrol the ranges in this
far outpost.
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