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Project Gutenberg's The Story of the Foss
River Ranch, by Ridgwell Cullum
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Title: The Story of the Foss River Ranch
Author: Ridgwell Cullum
Release Date: December 27, 2004 [EBook
#14482]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK
THE STORY OF THE FOSS RIVER RANCH ***
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The Story of theFoss River Ranch
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TO MY WIFE
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER I - THE POLO CLUB
BALL
CHAPTER II - THE BLIZZARD: ITCONSEQUENCES
CHAPTER III - A BIG GAME OF
POKER
CHAPTER IV - AT THE FOSS RIVERRANCH
CHAPTER V - THE "STRAY"
BEYOND THE MUSKEG
CHAPTER VI - WAYS THAT ARE
DARK
CHAPTER VII - ACROSS THE
GREAT MUSKEG
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CHAPTER VIII - TOLD IN BAD
MAN'S HOLLOW
CHAPTER IX - LABLANCHE'
"COUP"CHAPTER X - "AUNT" MARGARET
REFLECTS
CHAPTER XI - THE CAMPAIGN
OPENS
CHAPTER XII - LABLACHE
FORCES THE FIGHT
CHAPTER XIII - THE FIRST CHECKCHAPTER XIV - THE HUE AND CRY
CHAPTER XV - AMONG THE HALF
BREEDS
CHAPTER XVI - GAUTIER CAUSEDISSENSION
CHAPTER XVII - THE NIGHT O
THE PUSKY
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CHAPTER XVIII - THE PUSKY
CHAPTER XIX - LABLANCHE'
MIDNIGHT VISITOR
CHAPTER XX - A NIGHT OFTERROR
CHAPTER XXI - HORROCK
LEARNS THE SECRET OF THE
MUSKEG
CHAPTER XXII - THE DAY AFTER
CHAPTER XXIII - THE PAW OF THE
CATCHAPTER XXIV - "POKER" JOHN
ACCEPTS
CHAPTER XXV - UNCLE AND
NIECECHAPTER XXVI - IN WHIC
MATTERS REACH A CLIMAX
CHAPTER XXVII - THE LAST
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GAMBLE
CHAPTER XXVIII - SETTLING THE
RECKONING
CHAPTER XXIX - THE MAW OFTHE MUSKEG
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CHAPTER I - THE
POLO CLUB BALL
t was a brilliant gathering—brilliant i
every sense of the word. The hall was great effort of the decorator's art; th
people were faultlessly dressed; the face
were strong, handsome—fair or dar
complexioned as the case might be; thos
present represented the wealth and fashio
of the Western Canadian ranching world
ntellectually, too, there was no more faulo find here than is usual in a ballroom i
he West End of London.
t was the annual ball of the Polo Club
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and that was a social function of the firs
water—in the eyes of the Calford world.
"My dear Mrs. Abbot, it is a matter whics quite out of my province," said Joh
Allandale, in answer to a remark from hi
companion. He was leaning over th
cushioned back of the Chesterfield upowhich an old lady was seated, and gazin
smilingly over at a group of young peopl
standing at the opposite end of the room
"Jacky is one of those young ladies whosstrength of character carries her beyon
he control of mere man. Yes, I know wha
you would say," as Mrs. Abbot glanced up
nto his face with a look of mildlyexpressed wonder; "it is true I am he
uncle and guardian, but, nevertheless,
should no more dream of interfering wit
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her—what shall we say?—love affairs
han suggest her incapacity to 'boss'
round up' worked by a crowd of Mexica
greasers."
"Then all I can say is that your niece is
very unfortunate girl," replied the ol
ady, acidly. "How old is she?"
"Twenty-two."
John Allandale, or "Poker" John as he wa
more familiarly called by all who knew
him, was still looking over at the group
but an expression had suddenly crept int
his eyes which might, in a less robust
ooking man, have been taken for disquie
—even fear. His companion's words had
brought home to him a partial realizatio
of a responsibility which was his.
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"Twenty-two," she repeated, "and not a
relative living except a good-hearted bu
horoughly irresponsible uncle. That chil
s to be pitied, John."
The old man sighed. He took no umbrag
at his companion's brusquely-expresse
estimation of himself. He was stilwatching the group at the other end of th
room. His face was clouded, and a kee
observer might have detected a curiou
witching of his bronzed right cheek, jusbeneath the eye. His eyes followed th
movement of a beautiful girl surrounde
by a cluster of men, immaculately dressed
bronzed—and, for the most parwholesome-looking. She was dark, almos
Eastern in her type of features. Her hai
was black with the blackness of th
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raven's wing, and coiled in an ample kno
ow upon her neck. Her features, althoug
Eastern, had scarcely the regularity on
expects in such a type, whilst her eyequashed without mercy any idea of suc
extraction for her nationality. They wer
gray, deeply ringed at the pupil wit
black. They were keen eyes—fathomlesn their suggestion of strength—eye
which might easily mask a world of goo
or evil.
The music began, and the girl passed fro
amidst her group of admirers upon the ar
of a tall, fair man, and was soon lost in th
midst of the throng of dancers.
"Who is that she is dancing with now?
asked Mrs. Abbot, presently. "I didn't see
her go off; I was watching Mr. Lablach
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standing alone and disconsolate over ther
against the door. He looks as if some on
had done him some terrible injury. Se
how he is glaring at the dancers."
"Jacky is dancing with 'Lord' Bill. Yes
you are right, Lablache does not look ver
amiable. I think this would be a gooopportunity to suggest a little gamble i
he smoking-room."
"Nothing of the sort," snapped MrsAbbot, with the assurance of an old friend
"I haven't half finished talking to you ye
t is a most extraordinary thing that all yo
people of the prairie love to call eacother by nicknames. Why should the Hon
William Bunning-Ford be dubbed 'Lord
Bill, and why should that sweet niece o
yours, who is the possessor of such
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charming name as Joaquina, be hailed b
every man within one hundred miles o
Calford as 'Jacky'? I think it is both absur
and—vulgar."
"Possibly you are right, my dear lady. Bu
you can never alter the ways of th
prairie. You might just as well try to stemhe stream of our Foss River in earl
spring as try to make the prairie man cal
people by their legitimate names. Fo
nstance, do you ever hear me spoken oby any other name than 'Poker' John?"
Mrs. Abbot looked up sharply. A
malicious twinkle was in her eyes.
"There is reason in your sobriquet, John
A man who spends his substance and tim
n playing that fascinating but degradin
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game called 'Draw Poker' deserves n
better title."
John Allandale made a "clucking" soundwith his tongue. It was his way o
expressing irritation. Then he stood erect
and glanced round the room in search o
some one. He was a tall, well-built maand carried his fifty odd years fairly wel
n spite of his gray hair and the bald patc
at the crown of his head. Thirty years of
rancher's life had in no way lessened theasy carriage and distinguished bearin
acquired during his upbringing. Joh
Allandale's face and figure were redolen
of the free life of the prairie. Andalthough, possibly, his fifty-five year
might have lain more easily upon him h
was a man of commanding appearance an
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one not to be passed unnoticed.
Mrs. Abbot was the wife of the doctor o
he Foss River Settlement and had knowJohn Allandale from the first day he had
aken up his abode on the land whic
afterwards became known as the Fos
River Ranch until now, when he waacknowledged to be a power in the stock
raising world. She was a woman of sound
practical, common sense; he was a man o
action rather than a thinker; she was woman whose moral guide was a
nvincible sense of duty; he was a ma
whose sense of responsibility and dut
was entirely governed by an unreliablnclination. Moreover, he was obstinat
without being possessed of great strengt
of will. They were characters utterl
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opposed to one another, and yet they wer
he greatest of friends.
The music had ceased again and oncmore the walls were lined with heate
dancers, breathing hard and fannin
hemselves. Suddenly John Allandale saw
a face he was looking for. Murmuring aexcuse to Mrs. Abbot, he strode across th
room, just as his niece, leaning upon th
arm of the Hon. Bunning-Ford
approached where he had been standing.
Mrs. Abbot glanced admiringly up into
Jacky's face.
"A successful evening, Joaquina?" sh
nterrogated kindly.
"Lovely, Aunt Margaret, thanks." She
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always called the doctor's wife "Aunt."
Mrs. Abbot nodded.
"I believe you have danced every danceYou must be tired, child. Come and si
down."
Jacky was intensely fond of this old ladand looked upon her almost as a mother
Her affection was reciprocated. The gir
seated herself and "Lord" Bill stood ove
her, fan in hand.
"Say, auntie," exclaimed Jacky, "I've mad
up my mind to dance every dance on th
program. And I guess I sha'n't Waste timeon feeding."
The girl's beautiful face was aglow wit
excitement. Mrs. Abbot's face indicated
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horrified amazement.
"My dear child, don't—don't talk like tha
t is really dreadful.""Lord" Bill smiled.
"I'm so sorry, auntie, I forgot," the gir
replied, with an irresistible smile. "never can get away from the prairie. D
you know, this evening old Lablache mad
me mad, and my hand went round to m
hip to get a grip on my six-shooter, and
was quite disappointed to feel nothing bu
smooth silk to my touch. I'm not fit fo
own life, I guess. I'm a prairie girl; yo
can bet your life on it, and nothing wil
civilize me. Billy, do stop wagging tha
fan."
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"Lord" Bill smiled a slow, twinklin
smile and desisted. He was a tall, sligh
man, with a faint stoop at the shoulders
He looked worthy of his title.
"It is no use trying to treat Jacky to
becoming appreciation of socia
requirements," he said, addressing himselwith a sort of weary deliberation to Mrs
Abbot. "I suggested an ice just now. Sh
said she got plenty on the ranch at thi
ime of year," and he shrugged hishoulders and laughed pleasantly.
"Well, of course. What does one want ice
for?" asked the girl, disdainfully. "I camhere to dance. But, auntie, dear, where ha
uncle gone? He dashed off as if he wer
afraid of us when we came up."
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"I think he has set his mind on a game o
poker, dear, and—"
"And that means he has gone in search ohat detestable man, Lablache," Jacky pu
n sharply.
Her beautiful face flushed with anger a
she spoke. But withal there was a look o
anxiety in her eyes.
"If he must play cards I wish he woul
play with some one else," she pursued.
"Lord" Bill glanced round the room. H
saw that Lablache had disappeared.
"Well, you see, Lablache has taken a lot o
money out of all of us. Naturally we wis
o get it back," he said quietly, as if i
defense of her uncle's doings.
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"Yes, I know. And—do you?" The girl's
one was cutting.
"Lord" Bill shrugged. Then,— "As yet I have not had that pleasure."
"And if I know anything of Lablache yo
never will," put in Mrs. Abbot, curtly. "Hs not given to parting easily. Th
qualification most necessary amongs
gentlemen in the days of our grandfather
was keen gambling. You and John, had
you lived in those days, might hav
aspired to thrones."
"Yes—or taken to the road. Youremember, even then, it was necessary to
be a 'gentleman' of the road."
"Lord" Bill laughed in his lazy fashion
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His keen gray eyes were half veiled wit
eyelids which, seemed too weary to lif
hemselves. He was a handsome man, bu
his general air of weariness belied thsomewhat eagle cast of countenanc
which was his. Mrs. Abbot, watching him
hought that the deplorable lassitude whic
he always exhibited masked a verdifferent nature. Jacky possibly had he
own estimation of the man. Whatever i
was, her friendship for him was not to b
doubted, and, on his part, he neve
attempted to disguise his admiration o
her.
A woman is often a much keener observeof men than she is given credit for. A man
s frequently disposed to judge anothe
man by his mental talents and hi
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peculiarities of temper—or blatant self
advertisement. A woman's first thought i
for that vague, but comprehensive trai
"manliness. She drives straight home fohe peg upon which to hang her judgmen
That is why in feminine regard th
bookworm goes to the wall to make roo
for the athlete. Possibly Jacky and MrsAbbot had probed beneath "Lord" Bill'
superficial weariness and discovere
here a nature worthy of their regard. The
were both, in their several ways, fond o
his scion of a noble house.
"It is all very well for you good people t
sit there and lecture—or, at least, sathings,'" "Lord" Bill went on. "A ma
must have excitement. Life becomes
burden to the man who lives the humdru
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existence of ranch life. For the first few
years it is all very well. He can find
certain excitement in learning th
business. The 'round-ups' and brandinand re-branding of cattle, these things ar
fascinating—for a time. Breaking the wil
and woolly broncho is thrilling and h
needs no other tonic; but when one hagone through all this and he finds that n
Broncho—or, for that matter, any othe
horse—ever foaled cannot be ridden, i
oses its charm and becomes boring. O
he prairie there are only two things lef
for him to do—drink or gamble. The firs
s impossible. It is low, degradingBesides it only appeals to certain senses
and does not give one that 'hair-curling
hrill which makes life tolerable
Consequently the wily pasteboard i
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brought forth—and we live again."
"Stuff," remarked Mrs. Abbot
uncompromisingly."Bill, you make me laugh," exclaime
Jacky, smiling up into his face. "You
arguments are so characteristic of you.
believe it is nothing but sheer indolenc
hat makes you sit down night after nigh
and hand over your dollars to that—tha
Lablache. How much have you lost to hihis week?"
"Lord" Bill glanced quizzically down a
he girl.
"I have purchased seven evenings
excitement at a fairly reasonable price."
"Which means?"
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The girl leant forward and in her eyes wa
a look of anxiety. She meant to have th
ruth.
"I have enjoyed myself."
"But the price?"
"Ah—here comes your partner for the nexdance," "Lord" Bill went on, still smiling
"The band has struck up."
At that moment a broad-shouldered manwith a complexion speaking loudly of th
prairie, came up to claim the girl.
"Hallo, Pickles," said Bill, quietly turninupon the newcomer and ignoring Jacky'
question. "Thought you said you weren
coming in to-night?"
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"Neither was I," the man addressed a
"Pickles" retorted, "but Miss Jack
promised me two dances," he went on, i
strong Irish brogue; "that settled it. Howd'ye do, Mrs. Abbot? Come along, Mis
Jacky, we're losing half our dance."
The girl took the proffered arm and waabout to move off. She turned and spoke t
"Lord" Bill over her shoulder.
"How much?"
Bill shrugged his shoulders in
deprecating fashion. The same gentl
smile hovered round his sleepy eyes.
"Three thousand dollars."
Jacky glided off into the already dancin
hrong.
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For a moment the Hon. Bunning-Ford an
Mrs. Abbot watched the girl as she glided
n and out amongst the dancers, then, wit
a sigh, the old lady turned to hecompanion. Her kindly wrinkled old fac
wore a sad expression and a half tende
ook was in her eyes as they rested upo
he man's face. When she spoke, howeverher tone was purely conversational.
"Are you not going to dance?"
"No," abstractedly. "I think I've had
enough."
"Then come and sit by me and help t
cheer an old woman up."
"Lord" Bill smiled as he seated himsel
upon the lounge.
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"I don't think there is much necessity fo
my cheering influence, Aunt Margaret
Amongst your many other charmin
qualities cheerfulness is not the leastDoesn't Jacky look lovely to-night?"
"To-night?—always."
"Yes, of course—but Jacky always seem
o surpass herself under excitement. On
would scarcely expect it, knowing her a
we do. But she is as wildly delighted witdancing as any miss fresh from school."
"And why not? It is little pleasure tha
comes into her life. An orphan—barel
wenty-two—with the entire responsibilit
of her uncle's ranch upon her shoulders
Living in a very hornet's nest of blackleg
and—and—"
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"'Poker' John loves his niece," the ma
went on, as his companion remaine
silent. "There is nothing in the world h
would not do for her, if it lay within hipower."
"Then let him leave poker alone. Hi
gambling is breaking her heart."
The angry light was again in the old lady'
eyes. Her companion did not answer for
moment. His lips had assumed that curioupursing. When he spoke it was with, grea
decision.
"Impossible, my dear lady—utterl
mpossible. Can the Foss River help
freezing in winter? Can Jacky help talkin
prairie slang? Can Lablache help grubbin
for money? Can you help caring for all o
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our worthless selves who belong to th
Foss River Settlement? Nothing can alte
hese things. John would play poker on th
id of his own coffin, while thundertakers were winding his shrou
about him—if they'd lend him a pack o
cards."
"I believe you encourage him in it," sai
he old lady, mollified, but still sticking to
her guns. "There is little to choos
between you."
The man shrugged his indolent shoulders
This dear old lady's loyalty to Jacky, and
for that matter, to all her friends, pleasedwhile it amused him.
"Maybe." Then abruptly, "Let's talk o
something else."
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At that moment an elderly man was see
edging his way through the dancers. H
came directly over to Mrs. Abbot.
"It's getting late, Margaret," he said
pausing before her. "I am told it is rathe
gusty outside. The weather prophets thin
we may have a blizzard on us beformorning."
"I shouldn't be at all surprised," put in th
Hon. Bunning-Ford. "The sun-dogs havbeen showing for the last two days. I'll se
what Jacky says, and then hunt out ol
John."
"Yes, for goodness' sake don't let us ge
caught in a blizzard," exclaimed Mrs
Abbot, fearfully. "If there is one thing I'
afraid of it is one of those terrible storms
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We have thirty-five miles to go."
The new-comer, Dr. Abbot, smiled at his
wife's terrified look, but, as he turned turge Bill to hurry, there was a slightl
anxious look on his face.
"Hurry up, old man. I'll go and see abou
our sleigh." Then in an undertone, "You
can exaggerate a little to persuade them
for the storm is coming on and we must ge
away at once."
A moment or two later "Lord" Bill and
Jacky were making their way to th
smoking-room. On the stairs they me
"Poker" John. He was returning to th
ballroom.
"We were just coming to look for you
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scooped in.
The girl looked relieved, and even th
undemonstrative "Lord" Bill allowed scarcely audible sigh to escape him. Jack
returned at once to the exigencies of th
moment.
"Then, uncle, dear, let us hurry up. I gues
none of us want to be caught in a blizzard
Say, Bill, take me to the cloak-room, righ
away."
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CHAPTER II - THE
BLIZZARD: ITS
CONSEQUENCES
On the whole, Canada can boast of one o
he most perfect health-giving climates i
he world, despite the two extremes o
heat and cold of which it is composed. Bueven so, the Canadian climate is cursed b
an evil which every now and again break
oose from the bonds which fetter it, an
rages from east to west, carrying deatand destruction in its wake. I speak of th
errible—the raging Blizzard!
To appreciate the panic-like haste with
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unconvincing and gains no credence fro
he dweller on the prairies. And why
Because the storm does not come fro
above—neither does it come from specified direction. And only in the winte
does such a wind blow. The wind buffet
from every direction at once. No snow
falls from above and yet a blinding grawall of snow, swept up from the white
clothed ground, encompasses the daze
raveller. His arm outstretched in dayligh
and he cannot see the tips of his heavy fu
mitts. Bitter cold, a hundred time
ntensified by the merciless force of th
wind, and he is lost and freezing—slowlfreezing to death.
As the sleigh dashed through the outskirt
of Calford, on its way to the south, ther
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was not much doubt in the minds of any o
ts occupants as to the prospects of th
storm. The gusty, patchy wind, the sudde
sweeps of hissing, cutting snow, as islithered up in a gray dust in th
moonlight, and lashed, with stinging force
nto their faces, was a sure herald of th
coming "blizzard."
Bunning-Ford and Jacky occupied th
front seat of the sleigh. The former wa
driving the spanking team of blacks owhich old "Poker" John was justly proud
The sleigh was open, as in Canada al
such sleighs are. Mrs. Abbot and th
doctor sat in a seat with their backs tJacky and her companion, and old Joh
Allandale faced the wind in the back seat
alone. Thirty-five miles the horses had t
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cover before the storm thoroughl
established itself, and "Lord" Bill was no
a slow driver.
The figures of the travellers were hardl
distinguishable so enwrapped were the
n beaver caps, buffalo coats and robes
Jacky, as she sat silently beside hecompanion, might have been taken for a
nanimate bundle of furs, so lost was sh
within the ample folds of her buffalo. Bu
for the occasional turn of her head, as shmeasured with her eyes the rising of th
storm, she gave no sign of life.
"Lord" Bill seemed indifferent. His eyewere fixed upon the road ahead and hi
hands, encased in fur mitts, were on th
"lines" with a tenacious grip. The horse
needed no urging. They were high-mettle
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and cold. The gushing quiver of thei
nostrils, as they drank in the crisp, nigh
air, had a comforting sound for th
occupants of the sleigh. Weathepermitting, those beautiful "blacks" woul
do the distance in under three hours.
The sleigh bells jangled musically iresponse to the high steps of the horses a
hey sped over the hard, snow-covere
rail. They were climbing the long slop
which was to take them out of the vallewherein was Calford situate. Presentl
Jack's face appeared from amidst the fold
of the muffler which kept her storm colla
fast round her neck and ears.
"It's gaining on us, Billy."
"Yes, I know."
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He understood her remark. He knew sh
referred to the storm. His lips wer
curiously pursed. A knack he had when
stirred out of himself.
"We shan't do it."
The girl spoke with conviction.
"No."
"Guess we'd better hit the trail fo
orton's. Soldier Joe'll be glad twelcome us."
"Lord" Bill did not answer. He merely
chirruped at the horses. The willing beastncreased their pace and the sleigh spe
along with that intoxicating smoothnes
only to be felt when travelling with doubl
"bobs" on a perfect trail.
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The gray wind of the approaching blizzar
was becoming fiercer. The moon wa
already enveloped in a dense haze. Th
snow was driving like fine sand in thfaces of the travellers.
"I think we'll give it an hour, Bill. Afte
hat I guess it'll be too thick," pursued thgirl. "What d'you think, can we mak
orton's in that time—it's a good sixtee
miles?"
"I'll put 'em at it," was her companion'
curt response.
either spoke for a minute. Then "Lord
Bill bent his head suddenly forward. Th
night was getting blacker and it was wit
difficulty that he could keep his eyes fro
blinking under the lash of the whippin
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snow.
"What is it?" asked Jacky, ever on th
alert with the instinct of the prairie."Some one just ahead of us. The track i
badly broken in places. Sit tight, I'm goin
o touch 'em up."
He flicked the whip over the horses
backs, and, a moment later, the sleigh wa
flying along at a dangerous pace. Th
horses had broken into a gallop.
"Lord" Bill seemed to liven up under th
nfluence of speed. The wind was howlin
now, and conversation was impossibleexcept in short, jerky sentences. The
were on the high level of the prairie an
were getting the full benefit of the ope
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sweep of country.
"Cold?" Bill almost shouted.
"No," came the quiet response.
"Straight, down-hill trail. I'm going to le
em have their heads."
Both of these people knew every inch o
he road they were travelling. There wa
no fear in their hearts.
"Put 'em along, then."
The horses raced along. The deadly gra
wind had obscured all light. The lights o
he sleigh alone showed the tracks. It wa
a wild night and every moment it seeme
o become worse. Suddenly the man spok
again.
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"I wish we hadn't got the others with us
Jacky."
"Why?""Because I could put 'em along faster, as i
s—" His sentence remained unfinished
he sleigh bumped and lifted on to on
runner. It was within an ace o
overturning. There was no need to finis
his sentence.
"Yes, I understand, Bill. Don't take too
many chances. Ease 'em up—some
They're not as young as we are—not th
horses. The others."
"Lord" Bill laughed. Jacky was so coo
The word fear was not in her vocabulary
This sort of a journey was nothing new t
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her. She had experienced it all before
Possibly, however, her total lack of fea
was due to her knowledge of the man who
o use her own way of expressing things"was at the business end of the lines.
"Lord" Bill was at once the finest and th
most fearless teamster for miles around
Under the cloak of indolent indifferenche concealed a spirit of fearlessness an
even recklessness which few accredite
o him.
For some time the two remained silent
The minutes sped rapidly and half an hou
passed. All about was pitch black now
The wind was tearing and shrieking froevery direction at once. The sleig
seemed to be the center of its attack. Th
blinding clouds of snow, as they swept up
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from the ground, were becoming dense
and denser and offered a fierce resistanc
o the racing horses. Another few minute
and the two people on the front seat knewhat progress would be impossible. As i
was, "Lord" Bill was driving more b
nstinct than by what he could see. Th
rail was obscured, as were all landmarksHe could no longer see the horses' heads.
"We've passed the school-house," said
Jacky, at last.
"Yes, I know."
A strange knowledge or instinct is that o
he prairie man or woman. Neither ha
seen the school-house or anything t
ndicate it. And yet they knew they had
passed it.
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"Half a mile to Trout Creek. Two miles to
orton's. Can you do it, Bill?"
Quietly as the words were spoken, therwas a world of meaning in the question
To lose their way now would be worse
nfinitely, than to lose oneself in one of th
sandy deserts of Africa. Death was in thabiting wind and in the blinding snow
Once lost, and, in two or three hours, al
would be over.
"Yes," came the monosyllabic reply
"Lord" Bill's lips were pursed tightly
Every now and then he dashed the snow
and breath icicles from his eyelashes. Thhorses were almost hidden from his view
They were descending a steep gradien
and they now knew that they were upo
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Trout Creek. At the creek Bill pulled up. I
was the first stop since leaving Calford
Jacky and he jumped down. Each knew
what the other was about to do withouspeaking. Jacky, reins in hand, went round
he horses; "Lord" Bill was searching fo
he trail which turned off from the mai
road up the creek to Norton's. Presently hcame back.
"Animals all right?"
"Fit as fiddles," the girl replied.
"Right—jump up!"
There was no assisting this girl to heseat. No "by your leave" or Europea
politeness. Simply the word of one ma
who knows his business to another. Bot
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were on their "native heath."
Bill checked the horses' impetuosity an
walked them slowly until he came to thurning. Once on the right road, however
he let them have their heads.
"It's all right, Jacky," as the horse
bounded forward.
A few minutes later the sleigh drew up a
orton's, but so dark was it and so dens
he snow fog, that only those two kee
watchers on the front seat were able t
discern the outline of the house.
"Poker" John and the doctor assisted thold lady to alight whilst Jacky and "Lord
Bill unhitched the horses. In spite of th
cold the sweat was pouring from th
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animals' sides. In answer to a violen
summons on the storm door a ligh
appeared in the window and "soldier" Jo
orton opened the door.
For an instant he stood in the doorwa
peering doubtfully out into the storm. A
goodly picture he made as he stood lantern hand, his rugged old face gazin
nquiringly at his visitors.
"Hurry up, Joe, let us in," exclaimeAllandale. "We are nearly frozen to
death."
"Why, bless my soul!—bless my soul
Come in! Come in!" the old ma
exclaimed hastily as he recognized Joh
Allandale's voice. "You out, and on a
night like this. Bless my soul! Come in
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Down, Husky, down!" to a bob-tail sheep
dog which bounded forward and barke
savagely.
"Hold on, Joe," said "Poker" John. "Le
he ladies go in, we must see to th
horses."
"It's all right, uncle," said Jacky, "we'v
unhitched 'em. Bill's taken 'em right awa
o the stables."
The whole party passed into Joe Norton'
sitting-room, where the old farmer at onc
set about kindling, with the aid of som
coal-oil, a fire in the great box-stove
While his host was busy John took th
antern and went to "Lord" Bill'
assistance in the stables.
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The stove lighted, Joe Norton turned to hi
guests.
"Bless me, and to think of you, MrsAbbot, and Miss Jacky, too. I must fetc
he o'd 'ooman. Hi, Molly, Molly, besti
yourself, old girl. Come on down, an' hel
he ladies. They've come for shelter out ohe blizzard—good luck to it."
"Oh, no, don't disturb her, Joe," exclaimed
Mrs. Abbot; "it's really too bad, at thiunearthly hour. Besides, we shall be quit
comfortable here by the stove."
"No doubt—no doubt," said the old man
cheerfully, "but that's not my way—not m
way. Any of you froze," he went on
ungrammatically, "'cause if so, out you go
and thaw it out in the snow."
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"I guess there's no one frozen," said Jacky
smiling into the old man's face. "We're too
old birds for that. Ah, here's Mrs
orton."
Another warm greeting and the two ladie
were hustled off to the only spar
bedroom the Nortons boasted. By this tim"Lord" Bill and "Poker" John had returne
from the stables. While the ladies wer
removing their furs, which were sodde
with the melting snow, the farmer's wifwas preparing a rough but ample meal o
warm provender in the kitchen. Such i
hospitality in the Far North-West.
When the supper was prepared th
ravellers sat down to the substantial fare
one were hungry—be it remembered tha
t was three o'clock in the morning—bu
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each felt that some pretense in tha
direction must be made, or the kindl
couple would think their welcome wa
nsufficient.
"An' what made you venture on the trail o
such a night?" asked old Norton, as h
poured out a joram of hot whiskey foeach of the men. "A moral cert, yo
wouldn't strike Foss River in such
storm."
"We thought it would have held of
onger," said Dr. Abbot. "It was no use
getting cooped up in town for two or thre
days. You know what these blizzards areYou may have to do with us yoursel
during the next forty-eight hours."
"It's too sharp to last, Doc," put in Jacky
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as she helped herself to some soup. He
face was glowing after her exposure to th
elements. She looked very beautiful an
not one whit worse for the drive.
"Sharp enough—sharp enough," murmure
old Norton, as if for something to say.
"Sharp enough to bring some one else t
your hospitable abode, Joe," interrupte
"Lord" Bill, quietly; "I hear sleigh bells
The wind's howling, but their tone ifamiliar."
They were all listening now. "Poker" Joh
was the first to speak.
"It's—" and he paused.
Before he could complete his sentenc
Jacky filled up the missing words.
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"Lablache—for a dollar."
There was a moment's silence in tha
rough homely little kitchen. Thexpression of the faces of those around th
board indexed a general thought.
Lablache, if it were he, would not receiv
he cordial welcome which had bee
meted out to the others. Norton broke th
silence.
"Dang it! That's what I ses, dang it! You'l
pardon me, ladies, but my feelings get th
better of me at times. I don't like him
Lablache—I hates him," and he strode ou
of the room, his old face aflame wit
annoyance, to discharge the hospitabl
duties of the prairie.
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As the door closed behind him Dr. Abbo
aughed constrainedly.
"Lablache doesn't seem popular—here."o one answered his remark. The
"Poker" John looked over at the othe
men.
"We must go and help to put his horse
away."
There was no suggestion in his wordsmerely a statement of plain facts. "Lord
Bill nodded and the three men rose an
went to the door.
As they disappeared Jacky turned to Mrs
orton and Aunt Margaret.
"If that's Lablache—I'm off to bed."
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Her tone was one of uncompromisin
decision. Mrs. Abbot was less assured.
"Do you think it polite—wise?""Come along, aunt. Never mind abou
politeness or wisdom. What do you say
Mrs. Norton?"
"As you like, Miss Jacky. I must stay up
or—"
"Yes—the men can entertain him."
Just then Lablache's voice was hear
outside. It was a peculiar, guttural
gasping voice. Aunt Margaret lookeddoubtfully from Jacky to Mrs. Norton. Th
atter nodded smilingly. Then followin
Jacky's lead she passed up the staircas
which led from the kitchen to the room
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above. A moment later the door opened
and Lablache and the other men entered.
"They've gone to bed," said Mrs. Nortonn answer to "Poker" John's look o
nquiry.
"Tired, no doubt," put in Lablache, drily.
"And not without reason, I guess," retorte
"Poker" John, sharply. He had not failed
o note the other's tone.
Lablache laughed quietly, but his keen
restless eyes shot an unpleasant glance a
he speaker from beneath their heavy lids.
He was a burly man. In bulk he was o
much the same proportions as old Joh
Allandale. But while John was big wit
he weight of muscle and frame, Lablach
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was flabby with fat. In face he was th
antithesis of the other. Whilst "Poker
John was the picture of florid tanning—
While his face, although perhaps a triflweak in its lower formation, was bold
honest, and redounding with kindly nature
Lablache's was bilious-looking and heav
with obesity. Whatever character wahere, it was lost in the heavy folds o
flesh with which it was wreathed. Hi
owl was ponderous, and his little mout
was tightly compressed, while his deep
sunken, bilious eyes peered from betwee
heavy, lashless lids.
Such was Verner Lablache, the wealthiesman of the Foss River Settlement. H
owned a large store in the place, sellin
farming machinery to the settlers an
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ranchers about. His business was alway
done on credit, for which he charge
exorbitant rates of interest, accepting onl
first mortgages upon crops and stock asecurity. Besides this he represented
several of the Calford private banks
which many people said were reall
owned by him, and there was no one morready to lend money—on the best o
security and the highest rate of interest—
han he. Should the borrower fail to pay
he was always suavely ready to renew th
oan at increased interest—provided th
security was sound. And, in the end, ever
ounce of his pound of flesh, plus not leshan fifty per cent. interest, would com
back to him. After Verner Lablache had
done with him, the unfortunate ranche
who borrowed generally disappeare
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from the neighborhood. Sometimes thi
man's victims were never heard of again
Sometimes they were discovered doin
he "chores" round some obscure farmer'house. Anyway, ranch, crops, stock—
everything the man ever had—would hav
passed into the hands of the money-lender
Lablache.
Hard-headed dealer—money-grubber—a
Lablache was, he had a weakness. To
ook at him—to know him—no one woulhave thought it, but he had. And at leas
wo of those present were aware of hi
secret. He was in love with Jacky. That i
o say, he coveted her—desired her. WhenLablache desired anything in that littl
world of his, he generally secured it t
himself, but, in this matter, he had hitherto
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been thwarted. His desire had increase
proportionately. He was annoyed to thin
hat Jacky had retired at his coming. H
was in no way blind to the reason of hesudden departure, but beyond his firs
remark he was not the man to advertise hi
chagrin. He could afford to wait.
"You'll take a bite o' supper, Mr
Lablache?" said old Norton, in a tone o
nquiry.
"Supper?—no, thanks, Norton. But i
you've a drop of something hot I can d
with that."
"We've gener'ly got somethin' o' tha
about," replied the old man. "Whiskey o
rum?"
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"Whisky, man, whisky. I've got live
enough already without touching rum.
Then he turned to "Poker" John.
"It's a devilish night, John, devilish.
started before you. Thought I could mak
he river in time. I was completely lost o
he other side of the creek. I fancy thstorm worked up from that direction."
He lumped into a chair close beside th
stove. The others had already seatehemselves.
"We didn't chance it. Bill drove us straigh
here," said "Poker" John.
"Guess Bill knew something—h
generally does," as an afterthought.
"I know a blizzard when I see it," sai
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Bunning-Ford, indifferently.
Lablache sipped his whisky. A silence fel
on that gathering of refugees. Mrs. Nortohad cleared the supper things.
"Well, if you gents'll excuse me I'll go
back to bed. Old Joe'll look after you,
she said abruptly. "Good-night to you all.
She disappeared up the staircase. The me
remained silent for a moment or two. The
were getting drowsy. Suddenly Lablach
set his glass down and looked at hi
watch.
"Four o'clock, gentlemen. I suppose, Joehere are no beds for us." The old farme
shook his head. "What say, John—Doc—
ittle game until breakfast?"
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John Allandale's face lit up. His sobrique
was no idle One. He lived for poker—h
oved it. And Lablache knew it. Old Joh
urned to the others. His right cheewitched as he waited the decision. "Doc
Abbot smiled approval; "Lord" Bil
shrugged indifferently. The old gamble
rose to his feet.
"That's all right, then. The kitchen table i
good enough for us. Come along
gentlemen."
"I'll slide off to bed, I guess," said Norton
hankful to escape a night's vigil. "Good
night, gentlemen."
Then the remaining four sat down to play.
The far-reaching consequences of tha
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game were undreamt of by the players
except, perhaps, by Lablache. His story o
he reason of his return to Norton's far
was only partially true. He had returned ihe hopes of this meeting; he ha
anticipated this game.
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o one seemed inclined to refuse th
doctor's statement, or enter into
discussion upon the matter. Instead, eac
drew out a small memorandum block anpencil—a sure indication of a "big game."
"Limit?" asked the doctor.
Lablache shrugged his shoulders
affectionately shuffling the cards th
while. He kept his eyes averted.
"What do the others say?"
There was a challenge in Lablache's tone
Bunning-Ford flushed slightly at th
cheek-bones. That peculiar pursing was ahis lips.
"Anything goes with me. The higher th
game the greater the excitement," he said
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shooting a keen glance at the pasty face o
he money-lender.
Old John was irritated. His ruddy facgleamed in the light of the lamp. Th
nervous twitching of the cheek indicate
his frame of mind. Lablache smiled t
himself behind the wood expression of hiface.
"Twenty dollars call for fifty. Limit the
bet to three thousand dollars. Is that bienough for you, Lablache? Let us have
regulation 'ante.' No 'straddling.'"
There was a moment's silence. "Poker
John had proposed the biggest game the
had yet played. He would have suggeste
no limit, but this he knew would be all i
favor of Lablache, whose resources wer
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vast.
John glanced over from the money-lende
o the doctor. The doctor and BunningFord were the most to be considered
Their resources were very limited. Th
old man knew that the doctor was one o
hose careful players who was not likelo allow himself to suffer by the height o
he stakes. There was no bluffing th
doctor. "Lord" Bill was able to take car
of himself.
"That's good enough for me," sai
Bunning-Ford. "Let it go at that."
Outwardly Lablache was indifferen
nwardly he experienced a sense o
supreme satisfaction at the height of th
stakes.
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The four men relapsed into silence as the
cut for the deal. It was an education in th
game to observe each man as he
metaphorically speaking, donned his masof impassive reserve. As the gam
progressed any one of those four me
might have been a graven image as far a
he expression of countenance went. Nword was spoken beyond "Raise you s
and so"—"See you that." So keen, s
ardent was the game that the stake migh
have been one of life and death. No mone
passed. Just slips of paper; and yet an
one of those fragments represented a smal
fortune.The first few hands resulted in bu
desultory betting. Sums of money change
hands but there was very little in it
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Lablache was the principal loser. Thre
"pots" in succession were taken by Joh
Allandale, but their aggregate did no
amount to half the limit. A little luck felo Bunning-Ford. He once raised Lablach
o the limit. The money-lender "saw" hi
and lost. Bill promptly scooped in thre
housand dollars. The doctor wacautious. He had lost and won nothing
Then a change came over the game. To us
a card-player's expression, the cards wer
beginning to "run."
"Lord" Bill dealt. Lablache was upon hi
right and next to him the doctor.
The money-lender picked up his cards
and partially opening them glanced keenl
at the index numerals. His stolid fac
remained unchanged. The doctor glance
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at his and "came in." "Poker" John "cam
n." The dealer remained out. The docto
drew two cards; "Poker" John, one
Lablache drew one. The veteran rancheheld four nines. "Lord" Bill gathered up
he "deadwood," and, propping his fac
upon his hands, watched the betting.
t was the doctor's bet; he cautiousl
dropped out. He had an inkling of the wa
hings were going. "Poker" John opene
he ball with five hundred dollars. He haa good thing and he did not want t
frighten his opponent by a plunge. H
would leave it to Lablache to start raising
The money-lender raised him onhousand. Old John sniffed with th
appreciation of an old war-horse at th
scent of battle. The nervous, twitchin
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welve thousand dollars in the pool.
t was old John's turn. The doctor an
"Lord" Bill waited anxiously. The oldrancher was reputed very wealthy. The
felt assured that he would not back dow
after having gone so far. In their heart
hey both wished to see him relievLablache of a lot of money.
They need have had no fears. Whateve
his faults "Poker" John was a "dead gamsport." He dashed a slip of paper into th
pool. The keen eyes watching read "fou
housand dollars" scrawled upon it. H
had again raised to the limit. It was nowLablache's turn to accept or refuse th
challenge. The onlookers were not so sur
of the money-lender. Would he accept or
not?
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A curious thought was in the mind of tha
monument of flesh. He knew for certai
hat he held the winning cards. How h
knew it would be impossible to say. Andyet he hesitated. Perhaps he knew th
imits of John Allandale's resources
perhaps he felt, for the present, there wa
sufficient in the pool; perhaps, even, hhad ulterior motives. Whatever the cause
as he passed a slip of paper into the poo
merely seeing his opponent, his face gav
no outward sign of what was passing i
he brain behind it.
Old John laid down his hand.
"Four nines," he said quietly.
"Not good enough," retorted Lablache
"four kings." And he spread his cards ou
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upon the table before him and swept up
he pile of papers which represented hi
win.
A sigh, as of relief to pent-up feelings
escaped the two men who had watched th
gamble. Old John said not a word and hi
face betrayed no thought or regret thamight have been in his mind at the loss o
such a large amount of money. He merel
glanced over at the money-lender.
"Your deal, Lablache," he said quietly.
Lablache took the cards and a fresh dea
went round. Now the game became one
sided. With that one large pull the money
ender's luck seemed to have set in
Seemingly he could do no wrong. If h
drew to "three of a kind," he invariabl
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filled; if to a "pair," he generally secured
a third; once, indeed, he drew to jack
queen, king of a suit and completed
"royal flush." His luck was phenomenaThe other men's luck seemed "dead out.
Bunning-Ford and the doctor could get n
hands at all, and thus they were save
heavy losses. Occasionally, even, thdoctor raked in a few "antes." But Joh
Allandale could do nothing right. He wa
always drawing tolerable cards—jus
good enough to lose with. Until, by th
ime daylight came, he had lost so heavil
hat his two friends were eagerly seekin
an excuse to break up the game.At last "Lord" Bill effected this purpose
but at considerable loss to himself. He ha
a fairly good hand, but not, as he knew
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sufficiently good to win with. Lablach
and he were left in. The money-lender ha
n one plunge raised the bet to the "limit.
Bill knew that he ought to drop out, butnstead of so doing, he saw his opponent
He lost the "pot."
"Thank you, gentlemen," he said, quietlrising from the table, "my losses ar
sufficient for one night. I have finished. I
s daylight and the storm is 'letting up
somewhat."
He turned as he spoke, and, glancing at th
staircase, saw Jacky standing at the top o
t. How long she had been standing therhe did not know. He felt certain, althoug
she gave no sign, that she had heard wha
he had just said.
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"Poker" John saw her too.
"Why, Jacky, what means this early
rising?" said the old man kindly. "Tooired last night to sleep?"
"No, uncle. Guess I slept all right. Th
wind's dropping fast. I take it it'll b
blowing great guns again before long. Thi
s our chance to make the ranch." She ha
been an observer of the finish of the game
She had heard Bill's remarks on his lossand yet not by a single word did sh
betray her knowledge. Inwardly she raile
at herself for having gone to bed. Sh
wondered how it had fared with her uncle
Bunning-Ford left the room. Somehow h
felt that he must get away from the stead
gaze of those gray eyes. He knew how
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Jacky dreaded, for her uncle's sake, th
game they had just been playing. H
wondered, as he went to test the weather
what she would have thought had shknown the stakes, or the extent of he
uncle's losses. He hoped she was no
aware of these facts.
"You look tired, Uncle John," said the
girl, solicitously, as she came down th
stairs. She purposely ignored Lablache
"Have you had no sleep?"
"Poker" John laughed a little uneasily.
"Sleep, child? We old birds of the prairie
can do with very little of that. It's onl
pretty faces that want sleep, and I'
hinking you ought still to be in your bed."
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"Miss Jacky is ever on the alert to tak
advantage of the elements," put i
Lablache, heavily. "She seems to
understand these things better than any ous."
The girl was forced to notice the money
ender. She did so reluctantly, however.
"So you, too, sought shelter from the stor
beneath old man Norton's hospitable roof
You are dead right, Mr. Lablache; we whive on the prairie need to be ever on th
alert. One never knows what each hou
may bring forth."
The girl was still in her ball-dress
Lablache's fishy eyes noticed he
charming appearance. The strong
beautiful face sent a thrill of delight ove
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him as he watched it—the delicat
rounded shoulders made him suck in hi
heavy breath like one who anticipates
delicate dish. Jacky turned from him iplainly-expressed disgust.
Her uncle was watching her with a gaz
half uneasy and wholly tender. She wahe delight of his old age, the center of al
his affections, this motherless child of hi
dead brother. His cheek twitched painfull
as he thought of the huge amount of hiosings to Lablache. He shivere
perceptibly as he rose from his seat an
went over to the cooking stove.
"I believe you people have let the stov
out," the girl exclaimed, as she noted he
uncle's movement. She had no intention o
mentioning the game they had bee
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playing. She feared to hear the facts
nstinct told her that her uncle had los
again. "Yes, I declare you have," as she
knelt before the grate and raked away ahe ashes.
Suddenly she turned to the money-lender.
"Here, you, fetch me some wood and coal
oil. Men can never be trusted."
Jacky was no respecter of persons. Whe
she ordered there were few men on th
prairie who would refuse to obey
Lablache heaved his great bulk fro
before the table and got on to his feet. Hi
bilious eyes were struggling to smile. Th
effect was horrible. Then he moved acros
he room to where a stack of kindlin
stood.
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"Hurry up. I guess if we depended muc
on you we'd freeze."
And Lablache, the hardest, mosunscrupulous man for miles around
endeavored to obey with the alacrity o
any sheep-dog.
n spite of himself John Allandale could
not refrain from smiling at the grotesqu
picture the monumental Lablache made a
he lumbered towards the stack of kindling
When "Lord" Bill returned Lablache wa
bending over the stove beside the girl.
"I've thrown the harness on the horses—watered and fed 'em," he said, taking i
he situation at a glance. "Say, Doc,
urning to Abbot, "better rouse your good
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ady."
"She'll be down in a tick," said Jacky
over her shoulder. "Here, doctor, youmight get a kettle of water—and Bill, se
f you can find some bacon or stuff. And
you, uncle, came and sit by the stove—
you're cold."
Strange is the power and fascination o
woman. A look—a glance—a simple
word and we men hasten to minister to herequirements. Half an hour ago and al
hese men were playing for fortunes—
dealing in thousands of dollars on the tur
of a card, the passion for besting hineighbor uppermost in each man's mind
ow they were humbly doing one girl'
bidding with a zest unsurpassed by th
devotion to their recent gamble.
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She treated them indiscriminately. Old o
young, there was no difference. Bunning
Ford she liked—Dr. Abbot she liked—
Lablache she hated and despised, still shallotted them their tasks with perfec
mpartiality. Only her old uncle sh
reated differently. That dear, degenerate
old man she loved with an affection whicknew no bounds. He was her all in th
world. Whatever his sins—whatever hi
faults, she loved him.
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CHAPTER IV - AT
THE FOSS RIVER
RANCH
Spring is already upon the prairie. The fu
coat has already been exchanged for th
pea-jacket. No longer is the fur cap
crushed down upon the head and drawover the ears until little more than the ova
of the face is exposed to the elements; it i
still worn occasionally, but now it rest
upon the head with the jaunty cant of aordinary headgear.
The rough coated broncho no longe
stands "tucked up" with the cold, with it
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hind-quarters towards the wind. Now h
stands grazing on the patches of gras
which the melting snow has placed at hi
disposal. The cattle, too, hurry to and fras each day extends their field of fodder
When spring sets in in the great North
West it is with no show of reluctance tha
grim winter yields its claims and makeway for its gracious and all-conquerin
foe. Spring is upon everything with all th
characteristic suddenness of the Canadia
climate. A week—a little seven days—
and where all before had been cheerles
wastes of snow and ice, we have th
promise of summer with us. The snowdisappears as with the sweep of
"chinook" in winter. The brown, saturated
grass is tinged with the bright emerald hu
of new-born pasture. The bared trees do
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hat yellowish tinge which tells o
breaking leaves. Rivers begin to flow
Their icy coatings, melting in the growin
warmth of the sun, quickly returning oncmore to their natural element.
With the advent of spring comes a rush o
duties to those whose interest are centeren the breeding of cattle. The Foss Rive
Settlement is already teeming with life
For the settlement is the center of the grea
spring "round-up." Here are assemblinhe "cow-punchers" from all the outlyin
ranches, gathering under the command of
captain (generally a man elected for hi
vast experience on the prairie) and makinheir preparations to scour the prairie eas
and west, north and south, to the ver
imits of the far-reaching plains whic
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spread their rolling pastures at the easter
base of the Rockies. Every head of cattl
which is found will be brought into th
Foss River Settlement and thence will bdistributed to its lawful owners. This i
but the beginning of the work, for the tas
of branding calves and re-branding cattl
whose brands have become obscureduring the long winter months is a proces
of no small magnitude for those wh
number their stocks by tens of thousands.
At John Allandale's ranch all is orderl
bustle. There is no confusion. Unde
Jacky's administration the work goes o
with a simple directness which woulastonish the uninitiated. There are th
corrals to repair and to be put in order
Sheds and out-buildings to b
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whitewashed. Branding apparatus to b
set in working order, fencing to b
repaired, preparations for seeding t
commence; a thousand and one things tbe seen to; and all of which must b
finished before the first "bands" of cattl
are rounded up into the settlement.
t is nearly a month since we saw thi
daughter of the prairie garbed in the lates
mode, attending the Polo Ball at Calford
and widely different is her appearancnow from what it was at the time of ou
ntroduction to her.
She is returning from an inspection of thwire fencing of the home pastures. She i
riding her favorite horse, Nigger, up th
gentle slope which leads to her uncle'
house. There is nothing of the woman o
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fashion about her now—and, perhaps, it i
a matter not to be regretted.
She sits her horse with the easy grace of childhood's experience. Her habit, if suc
t can be called, is a "dungaree" skirt of
hardly recognizable blue, so washed out i
t, surmounted by a beautifully beadebuckskin shirt. Loosely encircling he
waist, and resting upon her hips, is
cartridge belt, upon which is slung th
holster of a heavy revolver, a weapowithout which she never moves abroad
Her head is crowned by a Stetson hat
secured in true prairie fashion by a stra
which passes under her hair at the backwhile her beautiful hair itself falls i
heavy ringlets over her shoulders, an
waves untrammelled in the fresh sprin
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breeze as her somewhat unruly charge
gallops up the hill towards the ranch.
The great black horse was heading for thstable. Jacky leant over to one side an
swung him sharply towards the house. A
he veranda she pulled him up short. Hig
mettled, headstrong as the animal was, hknew his mistress. Tricks which he would
often attempt to practice upon othe
people were useless here—doubtless sh
had taught him that such was the case.
The girl sprang, unaided, to the groun
and hitched her picket rope to a tying-post
For a moment she stood on the greaveranda which ran down the whole lengt
of the house front. It was a one-storied
bungalow-shaped house, built with a hig
pitch to the roof and entirely constructe
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of the finest red pine-wood. Six Frenc
windows opened on to the veranda. Th
outlook was westerly, and, contrary to th
usual custom, the ranch buildings were nooverlooked by it. The corrals and stable
were in the background.
She was about to turn in at one of thwindows when she suddenly observe
igger's ears cocked, and his head turne
away towards the shimmering peaks of th
distant mountains. The movement fixed heattention instantly. It was the instinct o
one who lives in a country where the eye
and ears of a horse are often keener an
more far-reaching than those of its humamasters. The horse was gazing wit
statuesque fixedness across a waste o
partially-melted snow. A stretch of ten
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miles lay flat and smooth as a billiard
able at the foot of the rise upon which th
house was built. And far out across thi
he beast was gazing.
Jacky shaded her eyes with her hand an
followed the direction of the horse's gaze
For a moment or two she saw nothing buhe dazzling glare of the snow in the brigh
spring sunlight. Then her eyes becam
accustomed to the brilliancy, and far in th
distance, she beheld an animal peacefullmoving along from patch to patch of bar
grass, evidently in search of fodder.
"A horse," she muttered, under her breath"Whose?"
She could find no answer to he
monosyllabic inquiry. She realized at onc
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hat to whomsoever it belonged its owne
would never recover it, for it was grazin
on the far side of the great "Muskeg," tha
mighty bottomless mire which extends foforty miles north and south and whos
narrowest breadth is a span of ten miles
She was looking across it now, and
nnocent enough that level plain of terroappeared at that moment. And yet it wa
he curse of the ranching district, for
annually, hundreds of cattle met a
untimely death in its cruel, absorbin
bosom.
She turned away for the purpose o
fetching a pair of field-glasses. She waanxious to identify the horse. She passe
along the veranda towards the furthes
window. It was the window of her uncle'
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office. Just as she was nearing it she hear
he sound of voices coming from within
She paused, and an ominous pucker drew
her brows together. Her beautiful darface clouded. She had no wish to play th
part of an eavesdropper, but she had
recognized the voices of her uncle an
Lablache. She had also heard the mentioof her own name. What woman, or, fo
hat matter, man, can refrain from listenin
when they hear two people talking abou
hem. The window was open; Jack
paused—and listened.
Lablache's thick voice lolled heavily upo
he brisk air.
"She is a good girl. But don't you think yo
are considering her future from a rathe
selfish point of view, John?"
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"Selfish?" The old man laughed in hi
hearty manner "Maybe you're righ
hough. I never thought of that. You see I'm
getting old now. I can't get around like used to. Bless me, she's two-an'-twenty
Three-and-twenty years since my brothe
Dick—God rest his soul!—married tha
half-breed girl, Josie. Yes, I guess you'reright, she's bound to marry soon."
Jacky smiled a curious dark smile
Something told her why Lablache and heuncle were discussing her future.
"Why, of course she is," said Lablache
"and when that happy event iaccomplished I hope it will not be wit
any improvident—harum-scarum man lik
—like—"
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"The Hon. Bunning-Ford I suppose yo
would say, eh?"
There was a somewhat sharp tone in thold man's voice which Jacky was not slow
o detect.
"Well," went on Lablache, with one o
hose deep whistling breaths which mad
him so like an ancient pug, "since yo
mention him, for want of a better specime
of improvidence, his name will do."
"So I thought—so I thought," laughed th
old man. But his words rang strangely
"Most people think," he went on, "tha
when I die Jacky will be rich. But sh
won't."
"No," replied Lablache, emphatically.
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There was a world of meaning in his tone
"However, I guess we can let her hun
around for herself when she wants husband. Jacky's a girl with a head. A
sight better head than I've got on my ol
shoulders. When she chooses a husband
and comes and tells me of it, she shalhave my blessing and anything else I hav
o give. I'm not going to interfere with tha
girl's matrimonial affairs, sir, not for an
one. That child, bless her heart, is like mown child to me. If she wants the moon
and there's nothing else to stop her havin
t but my consent, why, I guess that moon'
as good as fenced in with triple-barbewire an' registered in her name in th
Government Land Office."
"And in the meantime you are going t
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make that same child work for her dail
bread like any 'hired man,' and keep
company with any scoun—"
"Hi, stop there, Lablache! Stop there,
hundered "Poker" John, and Jacky heard
hud as of a fist falling upon the table
"You've taken the unwarrantable liberty opoking your nose into my affairs, and
because of our old acquaintance, I hav
allowed it. But now let me tell you this i
no d——d business of yours. There's nmake with Jacky. What she does, she doe
of her own accord."
At that moment the girl in question walkeabruptly in from the veranda. She ha
heard enough.
"Ah, uncle," she said, smiling tenderly u
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nto the old man's face, "talking of me,
guess. You shouted my name just as I was
coming along. Say, I want the field
glasses. Where are they?"
Then she turned on Lablache as if she ha
only just become aware of his presence.
"What, Mr. Lablache, you here? And so
early, too. Guess this isn't like you. How
s your store—that temple of wealth an
high interest—to get on without you? Howare the 'improvident'—'harum-scarums' t
ive if you are not present to minister t
heir wants—upon the best of security?
Without waiting for a reply the girl pickedup the glasses she was in search of an
darted out, leaving Lablache glaring hi
bilious-eyed rage after her.
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"Poker" John stood for a moment a pictur
of blank surprise; then he burst into a lou
guffaw at the discomfited money-lender
Jacky heard the laugh and smiled. Theshe passed out of earshot and concentrate
her attention upon the distant speck o
animal life.
The girl stood for some moment
surveying the creature as it move
eisurely along, its nose well dow
amongst the roots of the tawny grassseeking out the tender green shoots of th
new-born pasture. Then she closed he
glasses and her thoughts wandered t
other matters.
The gorgeous landscape was, for
moment, utterly lost upon her. The snow
peaks of the Rockies, stretching far as th
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eye could see away to the north and south
ike some giant fortification set up t
defend the rolling pastures of the prairie
from the ceaseless attack of the stormPacific Ocean, were far from her thoughts
Her eyes, it is true, were resting on th
evel flat of the muskeg, beyond the grov
of slender pines which lined the approaco the house, but she was not thinking o
hat. No, recollection was struggling bac
hrough two years of a busy life, to a tim
when, for a brief space, she had watche
over the welfare of another than her uncle
when the dark native blood which flowe
plentifully in her veins had asserted itselfand a nature which was hers had refuse
o remain buried beneath a superficia
European training. She was thinking of
man who had formed a secret part of he
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ife for a few short years, when she ha
allowed her heart to dictate a course fo
her actions which no other motive but tha
of love could have brought about. She wahinking of Peter Retief, a prett
scoundrel, a renowned "bad man," a ma
of wild and reckless daring. He had bee
he terror of the countryside. A cattle-thiewho feared neither man nor devil; a ma
who for twelve months and more ha
carried, his life in his hands, the swor
enemy of law and order, but who, in hi
worst moments, had never been known t
njure a poor man or a woman. The wil
blood of the half-breed that was in her habeen stirred, as only a woman's blood ca
be, by his reckless dealings, his courage
effrontery, and withal his wondrou
kindliness of disposition. She wa
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hinking of this man now, this man who
she knew to be numbered amongst th
countless victims of that dreadful mire
And what had conjured this thought? Ahorse—a horse peacefully grazing far ou
across the mire in the direction of th
distant hills which she knew had onc
been this desperado's home.
Her train of recollection suddenly becam
broken, and a sigh escaped her as th
sound of her uncle's voice fell upon heears. She did not move, however, for sh
knew that Lablache was with him, and thi
man she hated with the fiery hatred only t
be found in the half-breeds of any nativrace.
"I'm sorry, John, we can't agree on th
point," Lablache was saying in his wheez
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voice, as the two men stood at the othe
end of the veranda, "but I'm quit
determined Upon the matter myself. Th
and intersects mine and cuts me clean offrom the railway siding, and I am force
o take my cattle a circle of nearly fiftee
miles to ship them. If he would only b
reasonable and allow a passage I woulsay nothing. I will force him to sell."
"If you can," put in the rancher. "I recko
you've got chilled steel to deal with wheyou endeavor to 'force' old Joe Norton t
sell the finest wheat land in the country."
At this point in the conversation three mecame round from the back of the house
They were "cow" hands belonging to th
ranch. They approached Jacky with th
easy assurance of men who were as muc
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head he blurted out a stream of Western
argon.
"Say, missie," he exclaimed in a highpitched nasal voice, "it ain't no use i
alkin', ye kent put no tenderfoot t' boss th
round-up. There's them all-fired Donoghu
ot jest sent right in t' say, 'cause, I s'posehey reckon as they're the high muck-i
muck o' this location, that that tarnatio
Sim Lory, thar head man, is to cap' th
round-up. Why, he ain't cast a blamed fooon the prairie sence he's been hyar. An' I'l
swear he don't know the horn o' his saddl
from a monkey stick. Et ain't right, missie
an' us fellers t' work under him an' all."
His address came to an abrupt end, and h
gave emphasis to his words by
prolonged expectoration. Jacky, her eye
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The men went off hurriedly. Thei
mistress's swift methods of dealing wit
matters pleased them. Silas was more tha
pleased to be able to get a "slant" (to ushis own expression) at his old enemy, Si
Lory. As the men departed "Poker" John
came and stood beside his niece.
"What's that about Sim Lory, Jacky?"
"They've sent him to run this 'round-up.'"
"And?"
"Oh, I just told them it wouldn't do,
ndifferently.
Old John smiled.
"In those words?"
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"Well, no, uncle," the girl said with a
responsive smile. "But they needed
jinning' up. I sent the message in you
name."
The old man shook his head, but hi
ndulgent smile remained.
"You'll be getting me into serious trouble
with that impetuosity of yours, Jacky," h
said absently. "But there—I daresay you
know best."
His words were characteristic of him. H
eft the entire control of the ranch to thi
girl of two-and-twenty, relying implicitl
upon her judgment in all things. It was
strange thing to do, for he was still
vigorous man. To look at him was to make
oneself wonder at the reason. But the gir
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accepted the responsibility withou
question. There was a subtle sympath
between uncle and niece. Sometime
Jacky would gaze up into his handsomold face and something in the twitchin
cheek, the curiously-shaped mouth, hidde
beneath the gray mustache, would caus
her to turn away with a sigh, and, witstimulated resolution, hurl herself into th
arduous labors of managing the ranch
What she read in that dear, honest face sh
oved so well she kept locked in her ow
secret heart, and never, by word or act
did she allow herself to betray it. She wa
absolute mistress of the Foss River Rancand she knew it. Old "Poker" John, lik
he morphine "fiend," merely continued t
keep up his reputation and the more full
deserve his sobriquet. His mind, hi
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character, his whole being was bein
slowly but surely absorbed in the lust o
gambling.
The girl laid her hand upon the old man'
arm.
"Uncle—what was Lablache talking t
you about? I mean when I came for th
field-glasses."
"Poker" John was gazing abstractedly int
he dense growth of pines which fringe
he house. He pulled himself together, bu
his eyes had in them a far-away look.
"Many things," he replied evasively.
"Yes, I know, dear, but," bending her face
while she removed one of her buckski
gauntlets from her hand, "I mean about me
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You two were-discussing me, I know."
She turned her keen gray eyes upon he
relative as she finished speaking. The olman turned away. He felt that those eye
were reading his very soul. They mad
him uncomfortable.
"Oh, he said I ought not to let yo
associate with certain people."
"Why?" The sharp question came with th
directness of a pistol-shot.
"Well, he seemed to think that you migh
hink of marrying."
"Ah, and—"
"He seemed to fancy that you, bein
mpetuous, might make a mistake and fal
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—"
"In love with the wrong man. Yes,
understand; and from his point of view, iever I do marry it will undoubtedly be th
wrong man."
And the girl finished up with a mirthles
augh.
They stood for some moments in silence
They were both thinking. The noise fro
he corrals behind the house reached them
The steady drip, drip of the water from th
melting snow upon the roof of the hous
sounded loudly as it fell on the sodde
ground beneath.
"Uncle, did it ever strike you that tha
greasy money-lender wants to marry m
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himself?"
The question startled John Allandale mor
han anything else could have done. Hurned sharply round and faced his niece.
"Marry you, Jacky?" he repeated. "I neve
hought of it."
"It isn't to be supposed that you woul
have done so."
There was the faintest tinge of bitternesn the girl's answer.
"And do you really think that he wants t
marry you?"
"I don't know quite. Perhaps I am wrong
uncle, and my imagination has run awa
with me. Yes, I sometimes think he wants
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o marry me."
They both relapsed into silence. Then he
uncle spoke again."Jacky, what you have just said has mad
something plain to me which I could no
understand before. He came and gave m
—unsolicited, mind—"a little eagerly, "
detailed account of Bunning-Ford'
circumstances, and—"
"Endeavored to bully you into sending hi
about his business. Poor old Bill! And
what was his account of him?"
The girl's eyes were glowing witquickly-roused passion, but she kept the
urned from her uncle's face.
"He told me that the boy had heav
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mortgages on his land and stock. He tol
me that if he were to realize to-morrow
here would be little or nothing fo
himself. Everything would go to some fir n Calford. In short, that he has gamble
his ranch away."
"And he told this to you, uncle, dear.Then the girl paused and looked far ou
across the great muskeg. In her abrup
fashion she turned again to the old man
"Uncle," she went on, "tell me truly, doyou owe anything to Lablache? Has he an
hold upon you?"
There was a world of anxiety in her voicas she spoke. John Allandale tried to
follow her thought before he answered
He seemed to grasp something of he
meaning, for in a moment his eyes took o
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an expression of pain. Then his word
came slowly, as from one who is not sur
of what he is saying.
"I owe him some—money—yes—but—"
"Poker?"
The question was jerked viciously frohe girl's lips.
"Yes."
Jacky turned slowly away until her eye
rested upon the distant, grazing horse. A
strange restlessness seemed to be upo
her. She was fidgeting with the gauntlewhich she had just removed. Then slowl
her right hand passed round to her hip
where it rested upon the butt of he
revolver. There was a tight drawnnes
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about her lips and her keen gray eye
ooked as though gazing into space.
"How much?" she said at last, breakinhe heavy silence which had followe
upon her uncle's admission. Then befor
he could answer she went on deliberately
"But there—I guess it don't cut any figureLablache shall be paid, and I take it hi
bill of interest won't amount to more tha
we can pay if we're put to it. Poor ol
Bill!"
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CHAPTER V - THE
"STRAY" BEYOND
THE MUSKEG
The Foss River Settlement nestles in on
of those shallow hollows—scarcely
valley and which yet must be designate
by such a term—in which the Canadiaorth-West abounds.
We are speaking now of the wilder and
ess-inhabited parts of the great countrywhere grain-growing is only incidenta
and the prevailing industry is stock
raising. Where the land gradually rise
owards the maze-like foothills before th
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mighty crags of the Rockies themselves b
reached. A part where yet is to be heard
of the romantic crimes of the cattle
raiders; a part to where civilization haalready turned its face, but wher
civilizaton has yet to mature. In such
country is situate the Foss Rive
Settlement.
The settlement itself is like dozens o
others of its kind. There is the school
house, standing by itself, apart from othebuildings, as if in proud distinction for it
classic vocation. There is the church, o
rather chapel, where every denominatio
holds its services. A saloon, where fouper cent. beer and prohibition whiskey o
he worst description is openly sold ove
he bar; where you can buy poker "chips
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o any amount, and can sit down and pla
from daylight till dark, from dark t
daylight. A blacksmith and wheelwright; a
baker; a carpenter; a doctor who is also druggist; a store where one can buy ever
article of dry goods at exorbitant prices—
and on credit; and then, besides all this
well beyond the township limit there is half-breed settlement, a place which eve
o this day is a necessary evil and
constant thorn in the side of that smart
efficient force—the North-West Mounted
Police.
Lablache's store stands in the center of th
settlement, facing on to the market-plac—the latter a vague, undefined space o
waste ground on which vendors o
produce are wont to draw up thei
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wagons. The store is a massive buildin
of great extent. Its proportions ris
superior to its surroundings, as if t
ndicate in a measure its owner's worldlstatus in the district It is built entirely o
stone, and roofed with slate—the onl
building of such construction in th
settlement.
A wonderful center of business i
Lablache's store—the chief one for
radius of fifty miles. Nearly the wholbuilding is given up to the stocking o
goods, and only at the back of the buildin
s to be found a small office whic
answers the multifarious purposes ooffice, parlor, dining-room, smoking-roo
—in short, every necessity of its owner
except bedroom, which occupies a mer
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recess partitioned off by thin matchwoo
boarding.
Wealthy as Lablache was known to be hespent little or no money upon himsel
beyond just sufficient to purchase the bar
necessities of life. He had few
requirements which could not be satisfieunder the headings of tobacco and food—
both of which he indulged himself freely
The saloon provided the latter, and as fo
he former, trade price was best suited tohis inclinations, and so he drew upon hi
stock. He was a curious man, was Verne
Lablache—a man who understood th
golden value of silence. He never evespoke of his nationality. Foss River wa
content to call him curious—some peopl
preferred other words to express thei
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opinion.
Lablache had known John Allandale fo
years. Who, in Foss River, had he noknown for years? Lablache would hav
iked to call old John his friend, bu
somehow "Poker" John had neve
responded to the money-lender'advances. Lablache showed n
resentment. If he cared at all he wa
careful to keep his feelings hidden. On
hing is certain, however, he allowedhimself to think long and often of old Joh
—and his household. Often, when in th
deepest stress of his far-reaching work, h
would heave his great bulk back in hichair and allow those fishy, lashless
sphinx-like eyes of his to gaze out of hi
window in the direction of the Foss Rive
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Ranch. His window faced in the directio
of John's house, which was plainly visibl
on the slope which bounded the souther
side of the settlement.
And so it came about a few days later, in
one of these digressions of thought, tha
he money-lender, gazing out towards thranch, beheld a horseman riding slowly u
o the veranda of the Allandale's house
There was nothing uncommon in th
ncident, but the sight riveted his attentionand an evil light came into his usuall
expressionless eyes. He recognized th
horseman as the Hon. Bunning-Ford.
Lablache swung round on his revolvin
chair, and, in doing so, kicked over
paper-basket. The rapidity of hi
movement was hardly to be expected i
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Lablache shut his glasses with a snap an
urned away from the window. For som
ime he stood gazing straight before hi
and a swift torrent of thought flowehrough his active brain. Then, with th
directness of one whose mind is made up
he went over to a small safe which stoo
n a corner of the room. From this he tooan account book. The cover bore th
egend "Private." He laid it upon the table
and, for some moments, bent over it as h
scanned its pages.
He paused at an account headed Joh
Allandale. The figures of this accoun
were very large, totalling into six figuresThe balance against the rancher wa
enormous. Lablache gave a satisfied grun
as he turned over to another account.
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"Safe—safe enough. Safe as the Day o
Doom," he said slowly. His mouth worke
with a cruel smile.
He paused at the account of Bunning-Ford
"Twenty thousand dollars—um," the look
of satisfaction was changed. He looke
ess pleased, but none the less cruel. "No
enough—let me see. His place is wort
fifty thousand dollars. Stock another thirt
housand. I hold thirty-five thousand ofirst mortgage for the Calford Trust and
Loan Co." He smiled significantly. "Thi
bill of sale for twenty thousand is in m
own name. Total, fifty-five thousand. Selhim up and there would still be a margin
o, not yet, my friend."
He closed the book and put it away. The
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he walked to the window. Bunning-Ford'
horse was still standing outside the house
"He must be dealt with soon," he mutteredAnd in those words was concentrated
world of hate and cruel purpose.
Who shall say of what a man's dispositios composed? Who shall penetrate thos
complex feelings which go to make a ma
what his secret consciousness know
himself to be? Not even the man himsel
can tell the why and wherefore of hi
passions and motives. It is a matte
beyond the human ken. It is a matter whic
neither science nor learning can tell us of
Verner Lablache was possessed of all tha
prosperity could give him. He wa
wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice
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and no pleasure which money could bu
was beyond his reach. He knew, only too
well, that when the moment came, and h
wished it, he could set out for any of thgreat centers of fashion and society, and
here purchase for himself a wife wh
would fulfill the requirements of the mos
fastidious. In his own arrogant mind hwent further, and protested that he could
choose whom he would and she would b
his. But this method he set aside as to
simple, and, instead, had decided to selec
for his wife a girl whom he had watche
grow up to womanhood from the first da
hat she had opened her great, wonderineyes upon the world. And thus far he had
been thwarted. All his wealth went fo
nothing. The whim of this girl he ha
chosen was more powerful in this matte
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han was gold—the gold he loved. Bu
Lablache was not the man to sit down an
admit of defeat; he meant to marr
Joaquina Allandale willy-nilly. Love wampossible to such a man as he. He ha
conceived an absorbing passion for her, i
s true, but love—as it is generall
understood—no. He was not a young ma—the victim of a passion, fierce bu
ransient. He was matured in all respect
—in mind and body. His passion wa
asting, if impure, and he meant to take t
himself the girl-wife. Nothing shoul
stand in his way.
He turned back to his desk, but not twork.
n the meantime the object of his forcibl
attentions was holding an interesting tête
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à-tête with the man against whom h
fostered an evil purpose.
Jacky was seated at a table in the pleasansitting-room of her uncle's house. Sprea
out before her were several open stoc
books, from which she was endeavorin
o estimate the probable number o"beeves" which the early spring woul
produce. This was a task which sh
always liked to do herself before th
round-up was complete, so as the easier tsort the animals into their various pasture
when they should come in. Her visito
was standing with his back to the stove, i
ypical Canadian fashion. He was, clad ia pair of well-worn chaps drawn over
pair of moleskin trousers, and wore a gra
weed coat and waistcoat over a sof
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cotton shirt, of the "collar attached" type
As he stood there the stoop of hi
shoulders was very pronounced. His fai
hair was carefully brushed, and althoughis face was slightly weather-stained
still, it was quite easy to imagine th
distinguished figure he would be, clad i
all the solemn pomp of broadcloth and thsilk glaze of fashionable society in th
neighborhood of Bond Street.
The girl was not looking at her books. Shwas looking up and smiling at a remar
her companion had just made.
"And so your friend, Pat Nabob, is goinup into the mountains after gold. Does h
know anything about prospecting?"
"I think so—he's had some experience."
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Jacky became serious. She rose and turne
o the window, which commanded
perfect view of the distant peaks of th
Rockies, towering high above the broadevel expanse of the great muskeg. Wit
her back still turned to him she fired a
abrupt question.
"Say, Bill, guess 'Pickles' has some othe
reason for this mad scheme. What is it
You can't tell me he's going just for love
of the adventure of the thing. Now, let'hear the truth."
Unobserved by the girl, her companio
shrugged his shoulders.
"If you want his reason you'd better as
him, Jacky. I can only surmise."
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"So can I." Jacky turned sharply. "I'll tel
you why he's going, Bill, and you can be
your last cent I'm right. Lablache is at th
bottom of it. He's at the bottom oeverything that causes people to leav
Foss River. He's a blood-sucker."
Bunning-Ford nodded. He was rarelexpansive. Moreover, he knew he could
add nothing to what the girl had said. Sh
expressed his sentiments fully. There wa
a pause. Jacky was keenly eyeing the talhin figure at the stove.
"Why did you come to tell me of this?" sh
asked at last.
"Thought you'd like to know. You like
Pickles.'"
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"Yes—Bill, you are thinking of going with
him."
Her companion laughed uneasily. This girwas very keen.
"I didn't say so."
"No, but still you are thinking of doing soSee here, Bill, tell me all about it."
Bill coughed. Then he turned, an
stooping, shook the ashes from the stovand opened the damper.
"Beastly cold in here," he remarke
nconsequently.
"Yes—but, out with it."
Bill stood up and turned his indolent eye
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upon his interrogator.
"I wasn't thinking of going—to th
mountains.""Where then?"
"To the Yukon."
"Ah!"
n spite of herself the girl could not hel
he exclamation."Why?" she went on a moment later.
"Well, if you must have it, I shan't be able
o last out this summer—unless a stroke ouck falls to my share."
"Financially?"
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"Financially."
"Lablache?"
"Lablache—and the Calford Trust Co."
"The same thing," with conviction.
"Exactly—the same thing."
"And you stand?"
"If I meet the interest on my mortgages i
will take away every head of fat cattle can scrape together, and then I cannot pa
Lablache other debts which fall due i
wo weeks' time." He quietly drew out hi
obacco-pouch and rolled a cigarette. H
seemed quite indifferent to his difficulties
"If I realize on the ranch now there'll b
something left for me. If I go on, by th
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end of the summer there won't be."
"I suppose you mean that you will b
deeper in debt."He smiled in his own peculiarly laz
fashion as he held a lighted match to hi
cigarette.
"Just so. I shall owe Lablache more," h
said, between spasmodic draws at hi
obacco.
"Lablache has wonderful luck at cards."
"Yes," shortly.
Jacky returned to the table and sat down
She turned the pages of a stock book idly
She was thinking and the expression of he
dark, determined little face indicated th
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unpleasant nature of her thoughts
Presently she looked up and encountere
he steady gaze of her companion. The
were great friends—these two. In thaglance each read in the other's min
something of a mutual thought. Jacky, with
womanly readiness, put part of it int
words.
"No one ever seems to win against him
Bill. Guess he makes a steady income ou
of poker."
The man nodded and gulped down a deep
nhalation from his cigarette.
"Wonderful luck," the girl went on.
"Some people call it 'luck,'" put in Bil
quietly, but with a curious purse of th
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ips.
"What do you call it?" sharply.
Bunning-Ford refused to commit himselfHe contented himself with blowing the as
from his cigarette and crossing over to th
window, where he stood looking out. H
had come there that afternoon with a half
formed intention of telling this gir
something which every girl must hope t
hear sooner or later in her life. He hacome there with the intention of ending
one way or the other, a friendship
— camaraderie —whatever you please t
call it, by telling this hardy girl of thprairie the old, old story over again. H
oved this woman with an intensity tha
very few would have credited him with
Who could associate lazy, good-natured
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careless "Lord" Bill with serious love
Certainly not his friends. And yet suc
was the case, and for that reason had h
come. The affairs of Pat Nabob were but subterfuge. And now he found i
mpossible to pronounce the words he ha
so carefully thought out. Jacky was not th
woman to approach easily with sentimentshe was so "deucedly practical." So Bil
said to himself. It was useless to speculat
upon her feelings. This girl never allowe
anything approaching sentiment to appea
upon the surface. She knew better than t
do so. She had the grave responsibility o
her uncle's ranch upon her shouldersherefore all men must be kept at arm'
ength. She was in every sense a woman
passionate, loyal, loving. But in additio
nature had endowed her with a spiri
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which rose superior to feminine attribute
and feelings. The blood in her veins—he
ife on the prairie—her tender care an
solicitude for her uncle, of whose failingand weaknesses she was painfully aware
had caused her to put from her all thought
of love and marriage. Her life must b
devoted to him, and while he lived shwas determined that no thought of sel
should interfere with her self-impose
duty.
At last "Lord" Bill broke the silenc
which had fallen upon the room after th
girl's unanswered question. His remar
seemed irrevelant and inconsequent.
"There's a horse on the other side of th
muskeg. Who's is it?"
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Jacky was at his side in an instant. S
suddenly had she bounded from the table
hat her companion turned, with that laz
glance of his, and looked keenly at her. Hfailed to understand her excitement. Sh
had snatched up a pair of field-glasses an
had already leveled them at the distan
object.
She looked long and earnestly across th
miry waste. Then she turned to he
companion with a strange look in hebeautiful gray eyes.
"Bill, I've seen that horse before. Fou
days ago. I've looked for it ever since, bucouldn't see it. I'm going to round it up."
"Eh? How?"
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Bill was looking out across the muske
again.
"Guess I'm going right across there thievening," the girl said quietly.
"Across the muskeg?" Her companion wa
roused out of himself. His usually laz
gray eyes were gleaming brightly
"Impossible!"
"Not at all, Bill," she replied, with a
easy smile. "I know the path."
"But I thought there was only one man wh
ever knew that mythical path, and—he i
dead."
"Quite right, Bill—only one man."
"Then the old stories—"
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There was a peculiar expression on th
man's face. The girl interrupted him with
gay laugh.
"Bother the 'old stories.' I'm going acros
here this evening after tea—coming?"
Bunning-Ford looked across at the cloc
—the hands pointed to half-past one. H
was silent for a minute. Then he said,—
"I'll be with you at four if—if you'll tel
me all about—"
"Peter Retief—yes, I'll tell you as we go
Bill. What are you going to do until then?"
"I'm going down to the saloon to mee
Pickles,' your pet aversion, Pedr
Mancha, and we're going to find a fourth."
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"Ah, poker?"
"Yes, poker."
"I'm sorry, Bill. But be here at four sharpand I'll tell you all about it. See here, boy
mum's' the word."
The craving of the Hon. Bunning-Ford'ife was excitement. His temperamen
bordered on the lethargic. He felt tha
unless he could obtain excitement life wa
utterly unbearable. He had sought it al
over the world before he had adopted th
ife of a rancher. Here in the West o
Canada he had found something of what h
sought. There was the big game shootin
n the mountains, and the pursuit of th
"grizzly" is the most wildly enthrallin
chase in the world. There was the tamin
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and "breaking" of the wild and furiou
"broncho"—the most exemplary "bucking
horse in the world. There was the "round
up" and handling of cattle which nevefailed to give unlimited excitement. And
hen, at all times, was the inevitabl
poker, that king of all excitements amon
card games. The West of Canada hadpleased "Lord" Bill as did no othe
country, and so he had invested th
remains of his younger son's portion i
stock.
He had asked for excitement and Canad
had responded generously. Bill had found
more than excitement, he had found loveand had found a wealth of real friendship
rarely equaled in the busy cities o
civilization.
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n the midst of all these things which
seeking, he had found, came thi
suggestion from a girl. The muskeg—th
cruel, relentless muskeg, that miredreaded and shunned by white men an
natives alike. It could be crossed by
secret, path. The thought pleased him. And
none knew of this path except a man whwas dead and this girl he loved. Ther
was a strange excitement in the thought o
such a journey.
"Lord" Bill, ignoring his stirrup, vaulte
nto his saddle, and, as he swung his hors
round and headed towards the settlement
he wondered what the day would brinforth.
"Confound the cards," he muttered, as h
rode away.
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And it was the first time in his life that h
had reluctantly contemplated a gamble.
Had he only known it, a turning-point ihis life was rapidly approaching—
urning-point which would lead to event
which, if told as about to occur in th
nineteenth century, would surely brindown derision upon the head of the teller
And yet would the derided one have righ
on his side.
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CHAPTER VI
"WAYS THAT ARE DARK"
t was less than a quarter of a mile fro
he Allandales' house to the saloon—a deof reeking atmosphere and fouler spirits.
The saloon at Foss River was no bette
and no worse than hundreds of others ihe North-West at the time of which we
write. It was a fairly large woode
building standing at the opposite end o
he open space which answered thpurpose of a market-place, and facin
Lablache's store. Inside, it was gloomy
and the air invariably reeked of stal
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obacco and drink. The bar was large, an
at one end stood a piano kept for th
purpose of "sing-songs"—nightl
occurrences when the execrable whiskhad done its work. Passing through the ba
one finds a large dining-room on one sid
of a passage, and, on the other, a numbe
of smaller rooms devoted to the use ohose who wished to play poker.
t was towards this place that the Hon
Bunning-Ford was riding in the leisurelmanner of one to whom time is no object.
His thoughts were far from matter
pertaining to his destination, and he woulgladly have welcomed anything whic
could have interfered with his projecte
game. For the moment poker had lost it
charm.
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This man was at no time given t
vacillation. All his methods were, as
rule, very direct. Underneath his eas
nonchalance he was of a very decidenature. His thin face at times coul
suddenly become very keen. His tru
character was hidden by the cultivate
azy expression of his eyes. Bunning-Forwas one of those men who are at their bes
n emergency. At all other times life was a
hing which it was impossible for him t
ake seriously. He valued money as littl
as he valued anything in the world. Poke
he looked upon as a means to an end. H
had no religious principles, but firmlbelieved in doing as he would be done by
Honesty and truth he loved, because t
him they were clean. It mattered nothing t
him what his surroundings might be, for
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hough living in them, he was not of them
He would as soon sit down to play card
with three known murderers as play in th
best club in London, and he would treahem honestly and expect the same i
return—but a loaded revolver would b
slung upon his hip and the holster woul
be open and handy.
As he neared the saloon he recognized th
figures of two men walking in th
direction of the saloon. They were thdoctor and John Allandale. He rod
owards them.
"Hallo, Bill, whither bound?" said the olrancher, as the younger man came up
"Going to join us in the parlor of Smith'
fragrant hostelry? The spider is alread
here weaving the web in which he hope
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o ensnare us."
Bunning-Ford shook his head.
"Who's the spider—Lablache?"
"Yes, we're going to play. It's the firs
ime for some days. Guess we've all bee
oo busy with the round-up. Won't youreally join us?"
"Can't. I've promised Mancha an
Pickles' revenge for a game we played thother night, when I happened to reliev
hem of a few dollars."
"Sensible man—Lablache is toconsistent," put in the doctor, quietly.
"Nonsense," said "Poker" John
optimistically. "You're always carping
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about the man's luck. We must break i
soon."
"Yes, we've suggested that before."Bill spoke with meaning and finished up
with a purse of the lips.
They were near the saloon.
"How long are you going to play?" h
went on quietly.
"Right through the evening," replie
"Poker" John, with keen satisfaction. "An
you?"
"Only until four o'clock. I am going to tak
ea up at your place."
The old man offered no comment and Bil
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narrow, wicked-looking eyes, was servin
out whisky to a couple of worse-lookin
half-breeds. It was noticeable that ever
man present wore at his waist either revolver or a long sheath knife. Even th
proprietor was fully armed. The half
breeds wore knives.
"Poker" John was apparently a man o
distinction here. Possibly the knowledg
hat he played a big game elicited for hi
a sort of indifferent respect. Anyway, thehalf-breeds moved to allow him t
approach the bar.
"Lablache here?" asked the ranchereagerly.
"He is," replied Mr. Smith, in a drawlin
voice, as he pushed the two whiskie
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across to the waiting half-breeds. "Bee
here half an hour. Jest pass right through
mister. Maybe you'll find him located i
number two."
There was no doubt that John B. Smit
hailed from America. Although the
Canadian is not devoid of the Americaaccent there is not much doubt o
nationality when one hears the real thing.
"Good; come on, Doc. No, thanks, Smith,as the man behind the bar reached toward
a bottle with a white seal. "We'll have
something later on. Number two on th
right, I think you said."
The two men passed on into the back par
of the premises.
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"Guess dollars'll be flyin' 'fore the night'
out," said Smith, addressing any wh
cared to listen, and indicating "Poker
John with a jerk of the head in thdirection of the door through which th
wo men had just passed. "Make the bank
hum when they raise the 'bid.' Guess ther
ain't many o' ther' likes roun' these partsRye or Scotch?" to "Lord" Bill and thre
other men who came up at that moment
Mancha and "Pickles" were with him, an
a fourth player—the deposed captain o
he "round-up," Sim Lory.
"Scotch, you old heathen, of course,
replied Bill, with a tolerant laugh. "Youdon't expect us to drink fire-water. If you
kept decent Rye it would be different
We're going to have a flutter. Any room?"
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"Number two, I guess. Chock-a-block i
he others. Tolerable run on poker these
imes. All the round-up hands been gettin
advances, I take it. Say when."
The four men said "when" in due course
and each watered his own whisky. Th
proprietor went on, with a quick twinklof his beady eyes,—
"Ther's Mr. Allandale an' Lablache and
company in number two. Nobody else, guess. I've a notion you'll find plenty o
room. Chips, no? All right; goin' to play
idy game? Good!"
The four men, having swallowed thei
drink, followed in the footsteps of th
others.
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There was something very brisk an
business-like about this gambling-hell
Early settlers doubtless remember in th
days of "prohibition," when four per centbeer was supposed to be the onl
beverage of the country, and before rigid
egislation, backed by the armed force o
he North-West Mounted Police, swephese frightful pollutions from the fair fac
of the prairie, how they thrived on th
encouragement of gambling and the sale o
contraband spirits. The West is a cleane
country now, thanks to the untiring effort
of the police.
n number two "Poker" John and hicompanions were already getting to wor
when Bill and his friends entered. Beyon
a casual remark they seemed to take littl
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notice of each other. One and all wer
eager to begin the play.
A deep silence quickly fell upon the roomt was the silence of suppresse
excitement. A silence only broken by
monosyllabic and almost whispere
betting and "raising" as the gameproceeded. An hour passed thus. At the
able where Lablache and John Allandal
were playing the usual luck prevailed. Th
money-lender seemed unable to do wrongand at the other table Bunning-Ford wa
faring correspondingly badly. Pedro
Mancha, the Mexican, a man of obscur
past and who lived no one quite knewhow, but who always appeared to find th
necessary to gamble with, was the favore
one of dame Fortune. Already he had
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heaped before him a pile of "bills" an
.O.U.'s most of which bore "Lord" Bill'
signature. Looking on at either table, n
one from outward signs could have saiwhich way the luck was going. Only th
scribblings of the pencils upon the mem
pads and the gradual accumulation of th
precious slips of paper before Lablache aone table and the wild-eyed, dark-skinne
Mexican at the other, told the story of th
ruin which was surely bein
accomplished.
At length, with a loser's privilege
Bunning-Ford, after glancing at his watch
rose from the table. His lean face was ino way disturbed. He seemed quit
ndifferent to his losses.
"I'll quit you, Pedro," he said, smilin
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azily down at the Mexican. "You're a bi
oo hot for me to-day."
The dark-skinned man smiled a vaguenon-committing smile and displayed
double row of immaculate teeth.
"Good. You shall have your revenge
Doubtless you would like some of thes
papers back," he said, as he swept the
eisurely into his pocket-book, and the
sugar-bagging a cigarette paper he pourea few grains of granulated tobacco into it.
"Yes, I daresay I shall relieve you of som
ater on," replied Bill, quietly. Then h
urned to the other table and stoo
watching the play.
He glanced anxiously at the bare table i
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front of the old rancher. Even Dr. Abbo
was well stocked with slips of paper
Then his gaze fell upon the money-lender
behind whose huge back he was standing.
He moved slightly to one side. It is a
unwritten law amongst poker players, in
public place in the west of the Americacontinent, that no onlooker should stan
mmediately behind any player. He moved
o Lablache's right. The money-lender wa
dealing. "Lord" Bill lit a cigarette.
The cards were dealt round. Then th
draw. Then Lablache laid the pack down
Bunning-Ford had noted these thingmechanically. Then something caught hi
attention. It was his very indifferenc
which caused his sudden attention. Had h
been following the game with his usua
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keenness he would only have bee
hinking of the betting.
Lablache was writing upon his memopad, which was a gorgeous effort in silve
mounting. One of those oblong blocks wit
a broad band of burnished silver at th
binding of the perforated leaves. He knewhat this was the pad the money-lende
always used; anyway, it was similar in al
respects to his usual memorandum pads.
How it was his attention had become fixe
upon that pad he could not have told, bu
now an inspiration came to him. His fac
remained unchanged in its expression, buhose lazy eyes of his gleamed wickedl
as he leisurely puffed at his cigarette.
The bet went round. Lablache raised an
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raised again. Eventually the rancher "saw
him. The other took the pool. No wor
was spoken, but "Lord" Bill gritted hi
eeth and viciously pitched his cigarette the other end of the room.
During the next two deals he allowed hi
attention to wander. Lablache dropped ouone hand, and, in the next, he merel
"filled" his "ante" and allowed the docto
o take in the pool. John Allandale's fac
was serious. The nervous twitching of thcheek was still, but the drawn line
around his mouth were in no way hidde
by his gray mustache, nor did the eage
ight which burned luridly in his eyes foone moment deceive the onlooker as to th
anxiety of mind which his feature
masked.
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ow it was Lablache's deal. "Lord" Bil
concentrated his attention upon the dealer
The money-lender was left-handed. H
held the pack in his right, and, in dealinghe was slow and slightly clumsy. Th
object of Bunning-Ford's attention quickl
became apparent. Each card as it left th
pack was passed over the burnished silveof the dealer's memorandum pad. It wa
smartly done, and Lablache was assiste
by the fact that the piece of metal wa
nclined towards him. There was n
necessity to look down deliberately to se
he reflection of each card as it passed o
ts way to its recipient, a glance—just thglance necessary when dealing cards—
and the money-lender, by a slight effort o
memory, knew every hand that was out
Lablache was cheating.
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To say that "Lord" Bill was astonished
would be wrong. He was not. He had lon
suspected it. The steady run of luck whic
Lablache had persisted in was tophenomenal. It was enough to set th
densest thinking. Now everything wa
plain. Standing where he was, Bill ha
almost been able to read the indenumerals himself. He gave no sign of hi
discovery. Apparently the matter was o
no consequence to him, for he merely lit
fresh cigarette and walked towards th
door. He turned as he was about to pas
out.
"What time shall I tell Jacky to expect yohome, John?" he said quietly, addressin
he old rancher.
Lablache looked up with a swift
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malevolent glance, but he said nothing
Old John turned a drawn face to th
speaker.
"Supper, I guess," he said in a thick voice
husky from long silence. "And tell Smit
o send me in a bottle of 'white seal' an
some glasses."
"Right you are." Then "Lord" Bill passe
out. "Poker without whisky is bad," h
muttered as he made his way back to thbar, "but poker and whisky together ca
only be the beginning of the end. We'l
see. Poor old John!"
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CHAPTER VII -
ACROSS THE GREAT
MUSKEG
t was on the stroke of four o'clock whe
Bunning-Ford left the saloon. He had sai
hat he would be at the ranch at four, and
usually he liked to be punctual. He waate now, however, and made no effort to
make up time. Instead, he allowed hi
horse to walk leisurely in the direction o
he Allandales' house. He wanted time tohink before he again met Jacky.
He was confronted by a problem whic
axed all his wit. It was perhaps
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fortunate thing that his was not a hast
emperament. He well knew the usua
method of dealing with men who cheate
at cards in those Western wilds. Each mancarried his own law in his holster. He had
realized instantly that Lablache was not
case for the usual treatment. Pistol law
would have defeated its own ends. Sucmeans would not recover the terribl
osses of "Poker" John, neither would h
recover thereby his own lost property. No
he congratulated himself upon the restrain
he had exercised when he had checked hi
natural impulse to expose the money
ender. Now, however, the case lookedmore complicated, and, for the moment, h
could see no possible means of solvin
he difficulty. Lablache must be made to
disgorge—but how? John Allandale mus
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be stopped playing and furthe
contributing to Lablache's ill-gotten gains
Again—but how?
Bill was roused out of his usual apatheti
ndifference. The moment had arrive
when he must set aside the old indolen
carelessness. He was stirred to the coreA duty had been suddenly forced upo
him. A duty to himself and also a duty to
hose he loved. Lablache had consistentl
robbed him, and also the uncle of the girhe loved. Now, how to restore tha
property and prevent the villain's furthe
depredations?
Again and again he asked himself th
question as he allowed his horse t
mouche, with slovenly step, over th
sodden prairie; but no answer presente
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window. Tea was set upon the table and
Jacky was seated before the stove.
"Late, Bill, late! Guess that 'plug' of yours a rapid beast, judging by the pace yo
came up the hill."
For the moment Bunning-Ford's face ha
resumed its wonted air of lazy good
nature.
"Glad you took the trouble to watch fo
me, Jacky," he retorted quickly, with an
attempt at his usual lightness of manner. "
appreciate the honor."
"Nothing of the sort. I was looking founcle. The mail brought a letter fro
Calford. Dawson, the cattle buyer of th
Western Railway Company, wants to see
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him. The Home Government are buyin
argely. He is commissioned to purchas
30,000 head of prime beeves. Com
along, tea's ready."
Bill seated himself at the table and Jack
poured out the tea. She was dressed fo
he saddle.
"Where is Dawson now?" asked Bill.
"Calford. Guess he'll wait right there fo
uncle."
Suddenly a look of relief passed acros
he man's face.
"This is Wednesday. At six o'clock the
mail-cart goes back to town. Send som
one down to the saloon at once, and Joh
will be able to go in to-night."
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As Bill spoke his eyes encountered
direct and steady glance from the gir
There was much meaning in that mut
exchange. For answer Jacky rose and rana bell sharply.
"Send a hand down to the settlement t
find my uncle. Ask him to come up aonce. There is an important letter awaitin
him," she said, to the old servant wh
answered the summons.
"Bill, what's up?" she went on, when th
retainer had departed.
"Lots. Look here, Jacky, we mustn't b
ong over tea. We must both be out of the
house when your uncle returns. He ma
not want to go into town to-night. Anyway
don't want to give him the chance o
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asking any questions until we have had
ong talk. He's losing to Lablache again."
"Ah! I don't want anything to eaWhenever you are ready, Bill, I am."
Bunning-Ford drank his tea and rose fro
he table. The girl followed his example.
There was something very strong an
resolute in the brisk, ready-for-emergenc
ways of this girl. There was nothing of th
ultra-feminine dependence and weaknes
of her sex about her. And yet her hardines
detracted in no way from her womanl
charm; rather was that complex abstrac
enhanced by her wonderful self-reliance
There are those who decry independenc
n women, but surely only such must com
from those whose nature is largel
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composed of hectoring selfishness. Ther
was a resolute set of the mouth as Jack
sent word to the stables to have her hors
brought round. She asked no questions oher companion, as, waiting for complianc
with her orders, she drew on her stou
buckskin gauntlets. She understood thi
man well enough to be aware that hisuggestion was based upon necessity
"Lord" Bill rarely interfered with anythin
or anybody, but when such an occasio
arose his words carried a deal of weigh
with those who knew him.
A few minutes later and they were both
riding slowly down the avenue of pineeading from the house. The direction i
which they were moving was away fro
he settlement, down towards where th
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great level flat of the muskeg began. At th
end of the avenue they turned directly t
he southeast, leaving the township behin
hem. The prairie was soft and springyThere was still a keen touch of winter i
he fresh spring air. The afternoon sun wa
shining coldly athwart the direction o
heir route.
Jacky led the way, and, as they drew clea
of the bush, and the house and settlemen
were hidden from view behind them, shurged her horse into a good swinging lope
Thus they progressed in silence. The far
reaching deadly mire on their right
ooking innocent enough in the shadow ohe snow-clad peaks beyond, the ranc
well behind them in the hollow of the Fos
River Valley, whilst, on their left, the
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mighty prairie rolled away upwards to th
higher level of the surrounding country.
n this way they covered nearly a milehen the girl drew up beside a small clum
of weedy bush.
"Are you ready for the plunge, Bill?" sh
asked, as her companion drew up besid
her. "The path's not more than four fee
wide. Does your 'plug' shy any?"
"He's all right. You lead right on. Where
you can travel I've a notion I'm not likel
o funk. But I don't see the path."
"I guess you don't. Never did nature keeher secret better than in the setting out o
his one road across her woeful man-trap
You can't see the path, but I guess it's an
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open book to me, and its pages ain
Hebrew either. Say, Bill, there's been
many a good prairie man looking for thi
path, but"—with a slight accent oexultation—"they've never found it. Com
on. Old Nigger knows it; many a time ha
he trodden its soft and shaking surface
Good old horse!" and she patted the blacneck of her charger as she turned his hea
owards the distant hills and urged hi
forward with a "chirrup."
Far across the muskeg the distant peaks o
he mountain range glistened in th
afternoon sun like diamond-studded suga
oaves. So high were the clouds that everportion of the mighty summits was clearl
outlined. The great ramparts of the prairi
are a magnificent sight on a clear day. Fla
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and smooth as any billiard-table stretche
his silent, mysterious muskeg, alread
green and fair to the eye, an allurin
pasture to the unwary. An experienced eyemight have judged it too green—to
alluring. Could a more perfect trap b
devised by evil human ingenuity than this
Think for one instant of a bottomless pit oiquid soil, absorbing in its peculia
density. Think of all the horrors of
quicksand, which, embracing, sucks dow
nto its cruel bosom the despairing victi
of its insatiable greed. Think of a thin
solid crust, spread like icing upon a cak
and concealing the soft, spongy mattebeneath, covering every portion of th
cruel plain; a crust which yields a crop o
uxurious, enticing grass of the mos
perfect emerald hue; a crust firm in itsel
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and dry looking, and yet not strong enoug
o bear the weight of a good-sized terrier
And what imagination can possibl
conceive a more cruel—more perfect trapfor man or beast? Woe to the creature
which trusts its weight upon tha
reacherous crust. For one fleeting instan
t will sway beneath the tread, then, in thflash of a thought, it will break, and onc
he surface gives no human power ca
save the victim. Down, down into th
depths must the poor wretch be plunged
with scarce time to offer a prayer to Go
for the poor soul which so swiftly passe
o its doom. Such is the muskeg; ansurely more terrible is it than is that horro
of the navigator—the quicksands.
The girl led the way without as much as
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passing thought for the dangers whic
surrounded her. Truly had her companion
said "I don't see the path," for no path wa
o be seen. But Jacky had learned heesson well—and learned it from one wh
read the prairie as the Bedouin reads th
desert. The path was there and with
wondrous assurance she followed itcourse.
The travelers moved silently along. N
word was spoken; each was wrapped ihought. Now and again a stray prairi
chicken would fly up from their path wit
a whirr, and speed across the mire, callin
o its mate as it went. The drowsy chirrupof frogs went on unceasingly around, an
already the ubiquitous mosquito was o
he prowl for human gore.
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The upstanding horses now walked wit
down-drooped heads, with sniffing nose
ow towards the ground, ears cocked, an
with alert, careful tread, as if fully alive the danger of their perilous road. Th
silence of that ride teemed with a thrill o
danger. Half an hour passed and then th
girl gathered up her reins and urged hewilling horse into a canter.
"Come on, Bill, the path is more soli
now, and wider. The worst part is on thefar side," she called back over he
shoulder.
Her companion followed heunquestioningly.
The sun was already dipping towards th
distant peaks and already a shadowy haz
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was rising upon the eastern prairie. Th
chill of winter grew keener as the su
slowly sank.
Two-thirds of the journey were covered
and Jacky, holding up a warning hand
drew up her horse. Her companion cam
o a stand beside her.
"The path divides in three here," said th
girl, glancing keenly down at the fres
green grass. "Two of the branches areblind and end abruptly further on. Gues
we must avoid 'em," she went on shortly
"unless we are anxious to punctuate ou
earthly career. This is the one we musake," turning her horse to the left path
"Keep your eye peeled and stick t
igger's footprints."
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The man did as he was bid, marvelling th
while at the strange knowledge of hi
companion. He had no fear; he onl
wondered. The trim, graceful figure on thhorse ahead of him occupied all hi
houghts. He watched her as, with quie
assurance she guided her horse. He ha
known Jacky for years. He had watcheher grow to womanhood, but although he
up-bringing must of necessity have taugh
her an independence and courage given t
few women, he had never dreamt of th
strength of the sturdy nature she was now
displaying. Again his thoughts went to th
ales of the gossips of the settlement, anhe strange figure of the daring cattle-thie
oomed up over his mental horizon. H
rode, and as he rode he wondered. Th
end Of this journey would be a fittin
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place for the explanations which must tak
place between them.
At length the shaking path came to an enand the mire was crossed. A signal from
he girl brought her companion to her side
"We have crossed it," she said, glancing
up at the sun, and indicating the muske
with a backward jerk of her head. "Now
for the horse."
"What about your promise to tell me abou
Peter Retief?"
"Guess being the narrator you must let m
ake my time."
She smiled up into her companion's eagl
face.
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"The horse is a mile or so further up
owards the foothills. Come along."
They galloped side by side over the moistspringy grass—moist with the recently
melted snow. "Lord" Bill was content to
wait her pleasure. Suddenly the ma
brought his horse up with a severe "yank."
"What's up?" The girl's beautiful eye
were fixed upon the ground with
peculiar instinct. Bill pointed to thground on the side furthest from hi
companion.
"Look!"
Jacky gazed at the spot indicated.
"The tracks of the horse," she sai
sharply.
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She was on the ground in an instant an
nspecting the hoof-prints eagerly, wit
hat careful study acquired by experience.
"Well?" said the other, as she turned back
o her horse.
"Recent." Then in an impressive ton
which her companion failed to understand
"That horse has been shod. The shoes ar
off—all except a tiny bit on his off fore
We must track it."
They now separated and rode keeping th
hoof-prints between them. The mark
were quite fresh and so plain in the sof
ground that they were able to ride at
good pace. The clear-cut indentations le
away from the mire up the gently-slopin
ground. Suddenly they struck upon a pat
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hat was little more than a cattle-track, an
nstantly became mingled with other hoof
marks, older and going both ways
Hitherto the girl had ridden with her eyeclosely watching the tracks, but now sh
suddenly raised her sweet, weather-tanne
face to her companion, and, with a light o
he wildest excitement in her eyes, shpointed along the path and set her horse a
a gallop.
"Come on! I know," she cried, "right onto the hills."
Bill followed willingly enough, but h
failed to understand his companion'excitement. After all they were merel
bent upon "roping" a stray horse. The gir
galloped on at breakneck speed; the heav
black ringlets of hair were swept like a
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outspread fan from under the broad bri
of her Stetson hat, her buckskin bodic
ballooning in the wind as rider and hors
charged along, utterly indifferent to thnature of the country they were travelin
—indifferent to everything except the ma
pursuit of an unseen quarry. Now the
were on the summit of some eminencwhence they could see for miles th
confusion of hills, like innumerable bee
hives set close together upon an endles
plain; now down, tearing through a deep
hollow, and racing towards another abrup
ascent. With every hill passed the countr
became less green and more and morrugged. "Lord" Bill struggled hard to keep
he girl in view as she raced on—o
hrough the labyrinth of seemingly endles
hillocks. But at last he drew up on th
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summit of a high cone-like rise an
realized that he had lost her.
For a moment he gazed around with thapeculiar, all-observing keenness which i
given to those whose lives are spent i
countries where human habitation i
sparse—where the work of man is lost ihe immensity of Nature's effort. He coul
see no sign of the girl. And yet he knew
she could not be far away. His instinct
old him to search for her horse tracks. Hwas sure she had passed that way. Whil
yet he was thinking, she suddenl
reappeared over the brow of a further hil
She halted at the summit, and, seeing himwaved a summons. Her gesticulation
were excited and he hastened to obey
Down into the intervening valley his hors
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plunged with headlong recklessness. A
he bottom there was a hard, beaten track
Almost unconsciously he allowed hi
beast to adopt it. It wound round anupwards, at the base of the hill on whic
Jacky was waiting for him. He passed th
bend, then, with a desperate, backwar
heave of the body, he "yanked" his horsshort up, throwing the eager animal on t
ts haunches.
He had pulled up on what, at firsappeared to be the brink of a precipice
and what in reality was a declivity, down
which only the slow and sure foot of
steer or broncho might safely tread. He saaghast at his narrow escape. Then, turnin
at the sound of a voice behind him, h
found that Jacky had come down from th
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hill above.
"See, Bill," she cried, as she drew abreas
of his hard-breathing horse, "there he isDown there, peacefully, grazing."
Her excitement was intense, and the han
with which she pointed shook like a
aspen. Her agitation wa
ncomprehensible to the man. He looke
down. Hitherto he had seen little beyon
he brink at which he had come to such sudden stand. But now, as he gazed down
he beheld a deep dark-shadowed valley
far-reaching and sombre. From thei
present position its full extent was beyonhe range of vision, but sufficient was t
be seen to realize that here was one o
hose vast hiding-places only to be foun
n lands where Nature's fanciful mood ha
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nduced the mighty upheaval of th
world's greatest mountain ranges. On th
far side of the deep, sombre vale
owering craig rose wall-like, sheer upovershadowing the soft, green pastur
deep down at the bottom of the yawnin
gulch. Dense patches of dark, relentles
pinewoods lined its base, and, over all, ispite of the broad daylight, a peculia
shadow, as of evening, added mystery to
he haunting view.
t was some seconds before the man wa
able to distinguish the tiny object whic
had roused the girl to such unaccountabl
excitement. When he did, however, hbeheld a golden chestnut horse quietl
grazing as it made its way leisurel
owards the ribbon-like stream whic
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flowed in the bosom of the mysteriou
valley. "Lord" Bill's voice was quit
emotionless when he spoke.
"Ah, a chestnut!" he said quietly. "Well
our quest is vain. He is beyond our reach.
For a moment the girl looked at him i
ndignant surprise. Then her moo
changed and she nearly laughed outrigh
She had forgotten that this man as ye
knew nothing of what had all along been her thoughts. As yet he knew nothing o
he secret of this hollow. To her it meant a
world of recollection—a world of stirrin
adventure and awful hazard. When firsshe had seen that horse, grazing withi
sight of her uncle's house, her interest ha
been aroused—suspicions had been sen
eeming through her brain. Her thought
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had flown to the man whom she had onc
known, and who was now dead. She ha
believed his horse had died with him. And
now the strange apparition had yielded uts secret. The beast had been traced to th
old, familiar haunt, and what had bee
only suspicion had suddenly become
startling reality.
"Ah, I forgot," she replied, "you don
understand. That is Golden Eagle. Can
you see, he has the fragments of his saddlstill tied round his body. To think of it—
and after two years."
Her companion still seemed dense.
"Golden Eagle?" he repeate
questioningly. "Golden Eagle?" The nam
seemed familiar but he failed t
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comprehend.
"Yes, yes," the girl broke out impatiently
"Golden Eagle—Peter Retief's horse. Thgrandest beast that ever stepped th
prairie. See, he is keeping watch over hi
master's old hiding-place—faithful—
faithful to the memory of the dead."
"And this is—is the haunt of Peter Retief,
Bill exclaimed, his interest centerin
chiefly upon the yawning valley beforhim.
"Yes—follow me closely, and we'll ge
right along down. Say, Bill, we mus
round up that animal."
For a fleeting space the man looke
dubious, then, with lips pursed, and
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quiet look of resolution in his sleepy eyes
he followed in his companion's wake. Th
grandeur—the solitude—the mystery an
associations, conveyed by the girl'words, of the place were upon him. Thes
hings had set him thinking.
The tortuous course of that periloudescent occupied their full attention, but
at length, they reached the valley in safety
ow, indeed, was a wonderful scen
disclosed. Far as the eye could reach thgreat hollow extended. Deep and narrow
deep in the heart of the hills whic
owered upon either side to heights, fo
he most part, inaccessible, precipitous. Iwas a wondrous gulch, hidden an
unsuspected in the foothills, and protecte
by those amazing wilds, in which th
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gnorant or unwary must infallibly be lost
t was a perfect pasture, a perfect hiding
place, watered by a broad running stream
sheltered from all cold and storm. Nwonder then that the celebrated outlaw
Peter Retief, had chosen it for his haun
and the harborage of his ill-gotten stock.
With characteristic method the two se
about "roping" the magnificent creste
horse they had come to capture. They soo
found that he was wild—timid as a hareTheir task looked as though it would b
one of some difficulty.
At first Golden Eagle raced recklesslfrom point to point. And so long as thi
asted his would-be captors could do littl
but endeavor to "head" him from one t
he other, in the hope of getting him withi
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range of the rope. Then he seeme
suddenly to change his mind, and, with
quick double, gallop towards the side o
he great chasm. A cry of delight escapedhe girl as she saw this. The horse wa
making for the mouth of a small caver
which had been boarded over, and
udging by the door and window in thwoodwork, had evidently been used as
dwelling or a stable. It was the sam
nstinct which led him to this place tha
had caused the horse to remain for tw
years the solitary tenant of the valley. Th
girl understood, and drew he
companion's attention. The capture at oncbecame easy. Keeping clear of the cav
hey cautiously herded their quarr
owards it. Golden Eagle was docil
enough until he reached the, to him
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familiar door. Then, when he found tha
his pursuers still continued to press i
upon him, he took alarm, and, throwing up
his head, with a wild, defiant snort hmade a bolt for the open.
nstantly two lariats whirled through th
air towards the crested neck. One missets mark, but the other fell, true as a gun
shot over the small, thoroughbred head. I
was Jacky's rope which had found it
mark. A hitch round the horn of hesaddle, and her horse threw himself bac
with her forefeet braced, and faced th
captive. Then the rope tightened with
erk which taxed its rawhide strands their utmost. Instantly Golden Eagle, afte
wo years' freedom, stood still; he knew
hat once more he must return to captivity.
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CHAPTER VIII -
TOLD IN BAD MAN'S
HOLLOW
Jacky held her treasure fast. The chokin
grip of the running noose quieted Golde
Eagle into perfect docility. Bunning-Ford
was off his horse in a momentApproaching the primitive dwelling h
forced open the crazy door. It was
patchwork affair and swung back on a pai
of hinges which lamented loudly as thaccumulation of rust were disturbed. Th
nterior was essentially suggestive of th
half-breed, and his guess at its purpos
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had been a shrewd one. Part storehous
for forage, part bedroom, and part stable
t presented a squalid appearance. Th
portion devoted to stable-room was far ihe back; the curious apparatus whic
constituted the bed was placed under th
window.
The man propped the door open, and the
went to relieve the girl from the strain o
holding her captive. Seizing the lariat h
gripped it tightly and proceeded to passlowly, hand over hand, towards th
beautiful, wild-eyed chestnut. Golde
Eagle seemed to understand, for
presently, the tension of the rope relaxedFor a moment the animal looked fearfull
around and snorted, then, as "Lord" Bil
determinedly attempted to lead him, h
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hrew himself backward. His rebellio
asted but for an instant, for, presently
drooping his proud head as though i
oken of submission, he followed hicaptor quietly into the stable which ha
always been his.
The girl dismounted, and, shortly after"Lord" Bill rejoined her.
"Well?" she asked, her questioning eye
urned in the direction of the cave.
"He's snug enough," Bill replied quietly
glancing at his watch. He looked up at th
chilly sky, then he seated himself on th
edge of a boulder which reposed besid
he entrance to the stable. "We've just go
wo hours and a half before dark," h
added slowly. "That means an hour i
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which to talk." Then he quietly prepare
o roll a cigarette. "Now, Jacky, let's have
your yarn first; after that you shall hea
mine."
He leisurely proceeded to pick over th
obacco before rolling it in the paper. H
was usually particular about his smokeHe centered his attention upon the matte
now, purposely, so as to give hi
companion a chance to tell her stor
freely. He anticipated that what she had toell would affect her nearly. But hi
surmise of the direction in which sh
would be affected proved totall
ncorrect. Her first words told him this.
She hesitated only for the fraction of
second, then she plunged into her stor
with a directness which was always hers.
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"This is Bad Man's Hollow—he—he wa
my half-brother."
So the stories of the gossips were not trueBill gave a comprehensive nod, bu
offered no comment. Her statemen
appeared to him to need none. It explaine
tself; she was speaking of Peter Retief.
"Mother was a widow when she marrie
father—widow with one son. Mother wa
a half-breed."
An impressive silence ensued. For
moment a black shadow swept across th
valley. It was a dense flight of gees
winging their way back to the north, as th
warm sun melted the snow and furnishe
hem with well-watered feeding-grounds
The frogs were chirruping loudly down a
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he edge of the stream which trickled it
way ever southwards. She went on.
"Mother and Peter settled at Foss River adifferent times. They never hit it off. N
one knew that there was any relationshi
between them up at the camp. Mothe
ived in her own shack. Peter locatehimself elsewhere. Guess it's only fiv
years since I learned these things. Pete
was fifteen years older than I. I take it the
made him 'bad' from the start. Poor Peter—still, he was my half-brother."
She conveyed a world of explanation i
her last sentence. There was a tender, faraway look in her great, sorrowful eyes a
she told her jerky story. "Lord" Bil
allowed himself a side-long glance in he
direction, then he turned his eyes toward
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he south end of the valley and somethin
very like a sigh escaped him. She ha
struck a sympathetic chord in his heart. H
onged to comfort her.
"There's no use in reckoning up Peter'
acts. You know 'em as well as I do, Bill
He was slick—was Peter," she went onwith an inflection of satisfaction. She wa
returning to a lighter manner as sh
contemplated the cattle-thief's successes
"Cattle, mail-trains, mail-carts—nothincame amiss to him. In his own line Pete
was a Jo-dandy." Her face flushed as sh
proceeded. The half-breed blood in he
was stirred in all its passionate strength"But he'd never have slipped the coyot
sheriffs or the slick red-coats so long a
he did without my help. Say, Bill," leanin
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forward eagerly and peering into his fac
with her beautiful glowing eyes, "for thre
years I just—just lived! Poor Peter! Gues
'm reckoned kind of handy 'round a buncof steers. There aren't many who ca
hustle me. You know that. All the boys on
he round-up know that. And why
Because I learnt the business from Peter—and Peter taught me to shoot quick an
straight. Those three years taught me
deal, and I take it those things didn
happen for nothing," with a mood
ntrospective gaze. "Those years taught m
how to look after myself—and my uncle
Say, Bill, what I'm telling you may sickenyou some. I can't help that. Peter was m
brother and blood's thicker than water.
wasn't going to let him be hunted down b
a lot of bloodthirsty coyotes who were n
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shot to save Peter, but it never came to
hat. Whatever shooting Peter did wa
done on his—lonely. I jibbed at a froli
hat meant—shooting. Peter never let mdirty my hands to that extent. Guess I jus
helped him and kept him posted. If I'd ha
aw, they'd have called me accessory afte
he fact."
"Lord" Bill pondered. His lazy eyes wer
half-closed. He looked indifferent but hi
houghts were flowing fast. This girl'story had given a fillup to a wild pla
which had almost unconsciously foun
place in his active brain. Now he raise
his eyes to her face and was astonished ahe setness of its expression. Sh
reminded him of those women in histor
whose deeds had, at various periods
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very beautiful.
The man shifted his position.
"Tell me," he went on, gazing oveowards where a flock of wild ducks ha
suddenly settled upon a reedy swamp, an
were noisily revelling in the water, "did
your uncle know anything about this?"
"Not a soul on God's earth knew. Did yo
ever suspect anything?"
Bill shook his head.
"Not a thing. I was as well posted on th
subject of Peter as any one. Sometimes hought it curious that old John's stock an
my own were never interfered with. But
had no suspicion of the truth. Peter'
relationship to your mother—did th
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Breeds in the settlement know anything o
t?"
"No—I alone knew.""Ah!"
The girl looked curiously into he
companion's face. The tone of hiexclamation startled her. She wondered
owards what end his questions wer
eading. His face was inscrutable; sh
gained no inspiration from it. There was
short pause. She wondered anxiously how
her story had affected him in regard t
herself. After all, she was only a woman
—a woman of strong affections and deep
feelings. Her hardihood, her mannish self
reliance, were but outer coverings, th
result of the surroundings of her daily life
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She feared lest he should turn from her i
utter loathing.
The Hon. Bunning-Ford had no suchoughts, however. Twenty-four hours ago
her story might have startled him. But now
t was different. His was as wild an
reckless a nature as her own. Law anorder were matters which he regarded i
he light of personal inclinations. He ha
seen too much of the early life on th
prairie to be horrified by the part thicourageous girl had taken in her blood
relative's interests. Under othe
circumstances "Lord" Bill might wel
have developed into a "bad man" himselfAs it was, his sympathies were alway
with those whose daring led them int
ways of danger and risk of persona
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safety.
"How far does this valley extend?" h
asked abruptly, stepping over as though toobtain a view of the southern extremity o
he mysterious hollow.
"Guess we reckoned it 300 miles. Dea
straight into the heart of the mountains
hen out again sharply into the foot-hill
hirty miles south of the border. It come
o an end in Montana."
"And Peter disposed of his stock that wa
—all by himself?" he asked, returning t
his seat upon the boulder.
"All by himself," the girl repeated, agai
wondering at the drift of his questions
"My help only extended as far as thi
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place. Peter used to fatten his stock righ
here and then run them down int
Montana. Down there no one knew wher
he came from, and so wonderfully is thiplace hidden that he was never traced
There is only one approach to it, and that'
across the keg. In winter that can b
crossed anywhere, but no sane personwould trust themselves in the foothills a
hat time of year. For the rest it can only
be crossed by the secret path. This valle
s a perfectly-hidden natural road fo
llicit traffic."
"Wonderful." The man permitted a smile
o spread over his thin, eagle face"Peter's supposed to have made a pile o
money."
"Yes, I guess Peter sunk a pile of dollars
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He hid his bills right here in the valley,
Jacky replied, smiling back into th
ndolent face before her. Then her fac
became serious again. "The secret of ithiding-place died with him—it's burie
deep down in the reeking keg."
"And you're sure he died in the 'reekinkeg'?" There was a sharp intonation in th
question. The matter seemed to be o
mportance in the story.
Jacky half started at the eagerness wit
which the question was put. She pause
for an instant before replying.
"I believe he died there," she said a
ength, like one weighing her words wel
"but it was never clearly proved. Mos
people think that he simply cleared out o
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he country. I picked up his hat clos
beside the path, and the crust of the ke
had been broken. Yes, I believe he died in
he muskeg. Had he lived I should havknown."
"But how comes it that Golden Eagle i
still alive? Surely Peter would never havcrossed the keg on foot"
The girl looked perplexed for a momen
But her conviction was plainly evident.
"No—he wouldn't have walked. Pete
drank some."
"I see."
"Once I saved him from taking the wron
rack at the point where the path forks
He'd been drinking then. Yes," with a
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quiet assurance, "I think he died in th
keg."
Her companion seemed to have come the end of his cross-examination. H
suddenly rose from his seat. Th
chattering of the ducks in the distanc
caused him to turn his head. Then hurned again to the girl before him. Th
ndolence had gone from his eyes. Hi
face was set, and the firm pursing of hi
ips spoke of a determination arrived atHe gazed down at the recumbent figur
upon the ground. There was something i
his gaze which made the girl lower he
eyes and look far out down the valley.
"This brother of yours—he was tall an
hin?"
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The girl nodded.
"Am I right in my recollection of hi
when I say that he was possessed of dark, dark face, lantern jaws, thin—an
high, prominent cheek-bones?"
"That's so."
She faced him inquiringly as she answere
his eager questions.
"Ah!"
He quickly turned again in the direction o
he noisy water-fowl. Their rollickin
gambols sounded joyously on the broodinatmosphere of the place. The wintry chil
n the air was fast ousting the balmy breat
of spring. It was a warning of the latenes
of the hour.
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"Now listen to me," he went on presently
urning again from the contemplation of hi
weird surroundings. "I lost all that wa
eft to me from the wreck of my littlranch this afternoon—no, not t
Lablache," as the girl was about t
pronounce the hated name, "but," with
wintry smile, "to another friend of yoursPedro Mancha. I also discovered, thi
afternoon, the source of Lablache'
phenomenal—luck. He has systematicall
robbed both your uncle and myself—" H
broke off with a bitter laugh.
"My God!"
The girl had sprung to her feet in he
agitation. And a rage indescribable flame
nto her face. The fury there expresse
appalled him, and he stood for a momen
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waiting for it to abate. What terribl
depths had he delved into? The hidde
fires of a passionate nature are mor
easily kept under than checked in theiblasting career when once the restrainin
will power is removed. For an instant i
seemed that she must choke. Then sh
hurled her feelings into one brief, hissinsentence.
"Lablache—I hate him!"
And the man realized that he must continu
his story.
"Yes, we lost our money not fairly, but by
—cheating. I am ruined, and your uncl
—" Bill shrugged.
"My uncle—God help him!"
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"I do not know the full extent of his losses
Jacky—except that they have probabl
rebled mine."
"But I know to what extent the hound ha
robbed him," Jacky answered in a tone o
such bitter hatred as to cause he
companion to glance uneasily at thpassionate young face before him. "
know, only too well. And right thoroughly
has Lablache done his work. Say, Bill, do
you know that that skunk holds mortgageon our ranch for two hundred thousan
dollars? And every bill of it is for poker
For twenty years, right through, he ha
steadily sucked the old man's bloodSlick? Say a six-year-old steer don't know
more about a branding-iron than doe
Verner Lablache about his business. Fo
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every dollar uncle's lost he's made hi
sign a mortgage. Every bit of paper has th
old man had to redeem in that way. Wha
he's done lately—I mean uncle—I cansay. But Lablache held those mortgage
nearly a year ago."
"Whew—" "Lord" Bill whistled under hibreath. "Gee-whittaker. It's worse than
hought. 'Poker' John's losses during th
ast winter, to my knowledge, must hav
amounted to nearly six figures—thdevil!"
"Ruin, ruin, ruin!"
The girl for a moment allowed womanl
feeling to overcome her, for, as he
companion added his last item to the vas
sum which she had quoted, she saw, in al
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ts horrible nakedness, the truth of he
uncle's position. Then she suddenly force
back the tears which had struggled into he
eyes, and, with indomitable couragefaced the catastrophe.
"But can't we fight him—can't we giv
him—"
"Law? I'm afraid not," Bill interrupted
"Once a mortgage is signed the debt is n
onger a gambling debt. Law is of no uso us, especially here on the prairie. Ther
s only one law which can save us
Lablache must disgorge."
"Yes—yes! For every dollar he has stolen
et him pay ten."
The passionate fire in her eyes burne
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more steadily now. It was the fire whic
s unquenchable—the fire of a lasting hate
vengeful, terrible. Then her tone droppe
o a contemplative soliloquy.
"But how?" she murmured, looking awa
owards the stream in the heart of th
valley, as though in search of inspiration.
Bunning-Ford smiled as he heard the half
whispered question. But his smile was no
pleasant to look upon. All the latenrecklessness which might have made o
him a good soldier or a great scoundre
was roused in him. He was passing th
boundary which divides the old Adamwhich is in every man, from the veneer o
early training. He was mutely—
unconsciously—calling to his aid th
savage instincts which the best of men ar
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not without. His face expressed somethin
of what was passing within his activ
brain, and the girl before him, as sh
urned and watched the working featuresusually so placid—indifferent, knew tha
she was to see a side of his characte
always suspected by her but never befor
made apparent. His thoughts at last founvent in words of almost painful intensity.
"How?" he said, repeating the question a
hough it had been addressed to himself"He shall pay—pay! Everlastingly pay! S
ong as I have life—and liberty, he shal
pay!"
Then as if anticipating a request fo
explanation he told her the means b
which Lablache had consistently cheated
The girl listened, speechless wit
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amazement. She hung upon his ever
word. At the conclusion of his story sh
put an abrupt question.
"And you gave no sign? He doesn
suspect that you know?"
"He suspects nothing."
"Good. You are real smart, Bill. Yes,
shooting's no good. This is no case fo
shooting. What do you propose? I see yo
mean business."
The man was still smiling but his smil
had suddenly changed to one of kindl
humor.
"First of all Jacky," he said, taking a step
owards her, "I can do nothing withou
your help. I propose that you share thi
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ask with me. No, no, I don't mean in tha
way," as she commenced to assure him o
her assistance. "What I mean is that—tha
love you, dear. I want you to give me thright to protect—your uncle."
He finished up with his hands stretche
out towards her. Golden Eagle stirred ihis stable, and the two heard him whinn
as if in approval. Then as the girl made n
answer Bill went on: "Jacky, I am a ruine
man. I have nothing, but I love you bettehan life itself. We now have a common
purpose in life. Let us work together."
His voice sank to a tender whisper. Hoved this motherless girl who wa
fighting the battle of life single-hande
against overwhelming odds, with all th
strength of his nature. He had loved he
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ever since she had reached woman'
estate. In asking for a return of hi
affections now he fully realized the cruelt
of his course. He knew that the future—hifuture—was to be given up to the pursui
of a terrible revenge. And he knew that, i
inking herself with him, she woul
perforce be dragged into whatever wrongdoing his contemplated revenge might lea
him. And yet he dared not pause. It al
seemed so plain—so natural—that the
should journey through the crooked, path
of the future together. Was she not equally
determined upon a terrible revenge?
He waited in patience for his answerSuddenly she looked up into his face an
gently placed her hands in his. Her answe
came with simple directness.
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Henceforth we are united in a commo
cause. Our hand is turned against on
whose power in this part of the country i
almost absolute. When we have wrestehis property from him, to the uttermos
farthing, we will cry quits—"
"And on the day that sees Lablache'downfall, Bill, I will become your wife."
There was a pause. Then Bill drew he
owards him and they sealed the compacwith one long embrace. They were rouse
o the matters of the moment by anothe
whinny from Golden Eagle, who wa
chafing at his forced imprisonment.
The two stood back from one another
hand in hand, and smiled as they listene
o the tuneful plaint. Then the ma
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unfolded a wonderful plan to this gir
whom he loved. Her willing ears drank i
he details like one whose heart is set wit
a great purpose. They also talked of theiove in their own practical way. Ther
was little display of sentiment. The
understood without that. Their future wa
not alluring, unless something of the man'strange plan appealed to the wild nature o
he prairie which, by association, ha
somehow become affiliated with theirs. I
hat quiet, evening-lit valley these tw
people arranged to set aside the laws o
man and deal out justice as the
understood it. An eye for an eye—a toothfor a tooth; fortune favoring, a cent, pe
cent, interest in each case. The laws of th
prairie, in those days always uncertain
were more often governed by huma
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passions than the calm equity of unbiase
urymen. And who shall say that their ide
of justice was wrong? Two "wrongs," i
has been said, do not make one "right.But surely it is not a human policy whe
smote upon one cheek to turn the other fo
a similar chastisement.
"Then we leave Golden Eagle where h
s," said Jacky, as she remounted he
horse and they prepared to return home.
"Yes. I will see to him," Bill replied
urging his horse into a canter towards th
winding ascent which was to take the
home.
The ducks frolicking in their water
playground chattered and flapped thei
heavy wings. The frogs in their reedy bed
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CHAPTER IX -
LABLACHE'S
"COUP"
Lablache was seated in a comfortabl
basket chair in his little back office. H
preferred a basket chair—he knew it
value. He had tried other chairs of a lesyielding nature, but they were useless t
support his weight; he had broken to
many, and they were expensive—there i
nothing more durable than a strong baskechair. Lablache appreciated strengt
combined with durability, especiall
when the initial outlay was reduced to
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minimum.
His slippered feet were posted on th
ower part of the self-feeding stove and hgazed down, deep in thought, at the luri
glow of the fire shining through the mic
sides of the firebox.
A clock was ticking away with tha
peculiar, vibrating aggressiveness whic
characterizes the cheap American "alarm.
The bare wood of the desk aggravated thsound, and, in the stillness of the littl
room, the noise pounded exasperatingly o
he ear-drums. From time to time he turne
his great head, and his lashless eyepeered over at the paper dial of the clock
Once or twice he stirred with a suggestio
of impatience. At times his heav
breathing became louder and shorter, and
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he seemed about to give expression t
some irritable thought.
At last his bulk heaved and he removehis feet from the stove. Then he slowl
raised himself from the depths of th
yielding chair. His slippered feet shuffled
over the floor as he moved towards thwindow. The blind was down, but h
drew it aside and wiped the steam fro
he glass pane with his soft, fat hand. Th
night was black—he could see nothing ohe outside world. It was nearly an hou
since he had left the saloon where he ha
been playing poker with John Allandale
He appeared to be waiting for some oneand he wanted to go to bed.
Once more he returned to his complainin
chair and lowered himself into it. Th
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minutes slipped by. Lablache did not wan
o smoke; he felt that he must do somethin
o soothe his impatience, so he chewed a
he quicks of his finger-nails.
Presently there came a tap at the window
The money-lender ponderously rose, and
cautiously opening the door, admitted thdark, unkempt form of Pedro Mancha
There was no greeting; neither spoke unti
Lablache had again secured the door
Then the money-lender turned his fisheyes and mask-like face to the newcomer
He did not suggest that his visitor shoul
sit down. He merely looked with his cold
cruel eyes, and spoke.
"Well?—been drinking."
The latter part of his remark was a
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assertion. He knew the Mexican well. Th
fellow had an expressive countenance
unlike most of his race, and the least sig
of drink was painfully apparent upon itThe man was not drunk but his wild eye
estified to his recent libations.
"Guess you've hit it right thar," he retortedndifferently.
t was noticeable that this man ha
adopted the high-pitched, keen tone anpronounced accent of the typical "South
Westerner." In truth he was a borde
Mexican; a type of man closely allied t
he "greaser." He was a perfect scoundrelwho had doubtless departed from hi
native land for the benefit of that fair bu
swarming hornet's nest.
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"It's a pity when you have business o
hand you can't leave that 'stuff' alone."
Lablache made no effort to conceal hicontempt. He even allowed his mask-lik
face to emphasize his words.
"You're almighty pertickler, mister. You
ask for dirty work to be done, an' whe
hat dirty work's done, gorl-darn-it yo
croak like a flannel-mouthed temperanc
ecturer. Guess I came hyar to talk straighbiz. Jest leave the temperance track, an' hi
he main trail."
Pedro's face was not pretty to look upon
The ring of white round the pupils of hi
eyes gave an impression of insanity o
animal ferocity. The latter was his chie
characteristic. His face was thin an
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scored with scars, mainly long an
narrow. These, in a measure, testified to
his past. His mouth, half hidden beneath
straggling mustache, was his worsfeature. One can only liken it to a blubber
ipped gash, lined inside with two rows o
yellow fangs, all in a more or less ba
state of decay.
The two men eyed one another steadily fo
a moment. Lablache could in no wa
errorize this desperado. Like all his kinhis man was ready to sell his services t
any master, provided the forthcomin
price of such services was sufficientl
exorbitant. He was equally ready to plahis employer up should any one else offe
a higher price. But Lablache, whe
dealing with such men, took no chances
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He rarely employed this sort of man
preferring to do his own dirty work, bu
when he did, he knew it was policy to b
iberal. Pedro served him well as a ruleconsequently the Mexican was enabled t
ruffle it with the best in the settlemen
whilst people wondered where he got hi
money from. Somehow they never thoughof Lablache being the source of this man'
means; the money-lender was not fond o
parting.
"You are right, I am particular. When
pay for work to be done I don't wan
gassing over a bar. I know what you ar
when the whisky is in you."
Lablache stood with his great back to th
fire watching his man from beneath hi
heavy lids. Bad as he was himself th
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presence of this man filled him wit
oathing. Possibly deep down, somewher
n that organ he was pleased to conside
his heart, he had a faint glimmer of respecfor an honest man. The Mexican laughe
harshly.
"Guess all you know of me, misterwouldn't make a pile o' literature. But say
what's the game to-night?"
Lablache was gnawing his fingers.
"How much did you take from th
Honorable?" he asked sharply.
"You told me to lift his boodle. Time wasshort—he wouldn't play for long."
"I'm aware of that. How much?"
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Lablache's tone was abrupt an
peremptory. Mancha was trying to
estimate what he should be paid for hi
work.
"See hyar, I guess we ain't struck no dea
yet. What do you propose to pay me?"
The Mexican was sharp but he was n
match for his employer. He fancied h
saw a good deal over this night's work.
"You played on paper, I know," said the
money-lender, quietly. He was quite
unmoved by the other's display of cunning
t pleased him rather than otherwise. H
knew he held all the cards in his hands—
he generally did in dealing with men o
his stamp. "To you, the amounts he los
are not worth the paper they are writte
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on. You could never realize them. He
couldn't meet 'em."
Lablache leisurely took a pinch of snuffrom his snuff-box. He coughed an
sneezed voluminously. His indifferen
coolness, his air of patronage, aggravate
he Mexican while it alarmed him. Thdeal he anticipated began to assume lesse
proportions.
"Which means, I take it, you've a notioyou'd like the feel of those same papers."
Mancha had come to drive a bargain. H
was aware that the I.O.U.'s he held woul
ake some time to realize on, in the prope
quarter, but, at the same time, he was quit
aware of the fact that Bunning-Ford woul
ultimately meet them.
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Lablache shrugged his shoulders wit
apparent indifference—he meant to hav
hem.
"What do you want for the debts? I a
prepared to buy—at a reasonable figure."
The Mexican propped himsel
comfortably upon the corner of the desk.
"Say, guess we're talkin' biz, now. Hi
lordship' is due to ante up the trifle o
seven thousand dollars—"
The fellow was rummaging in an insid
pocket for the slips of paper. His eye
never left his companion's face. Thamount startled Lablache, but he did no
move a muscle.
"You did your work well, Pedro," he said
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allowing himself, for the first time in thi
conversation, to recognize that th
Mexican had a name. He warmed toward
a man who was capable of doing anothedown for such a sum in such a short spac
of time. "I'll treat you well. Two thousand
spot cash, and you hand over the I.O.U.'s
What say? Is it a go?"
"Be damned to you. Two thousand for a
certain seven? Not me. Say, what d'ye do
with the skin when you eat a banannySole your boots with it? Gee-whiz! You
do fling your bills around."
The Mexican laughed derisively as hammed the papers back into his pocket
But he knew that he would have to sell a
he other's price.
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Lablache moved heavily towards his desk
Selecting a book he opened it at a certai
page.
"You can keep them if you like. But you
may as well understand your position
What's Bunning-Ford worth? What's hi
ranch worth?"
The other suggested a figure much below
he real value.
"It's worth more than that. Fifty thousand i
t's worth a cent," Lablache sai
expansively. "I don't want to do you, m
friend, but as you said we're talkin
business now. Here is his account wit
me, you see," pointing to the entries. "
hold thirty-five thousand on first mortgag
and twenty thousand on bill of sale. In al
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fifty-five thousand, and his interest twelv
months in arrears. Now, you refuse to par
with those papers at my price, and I'll sel
him up. You will then get not one cent oyour money."
The money-lender permitted himself t
smile a grim, cold smile. He had beecareful to make no mention of Bunning
Ford's further assets. He had quit
forgotten to speak of a certain band o
cattle which he knew his intended victio possess. It was a well-known thing tha
Lablache knew more of the financia
affairs of the people of the settlement tha
any one else; doubtless the Mexicahought only of "Lord" Bill's ranch
Mancha shifted his position uneasily. Bu
here was a cunning look on his face as h
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retorted swiftly,—
"You're a'mighty hasty to lay your hand
on his reckoning. How's it that you'rready to part two thou' for 'em?"
There was a moment's silence as the tw
men eyed each other. It seemed as if eac
were endeavoring to fathom the other'
houghts. Then the money-lender spoke
and his voice conveyed a concentration o
hate that bit upon the air with ancisiveness which startled hi
companion.
"Because I intend to crush him as I woul
a rattlesnake. Because I wish to ruin hi
so that he will be left in my debt. So that
can hound him from this place by holdin
hat debt over his head. It is worth tw
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housand to me to possess that power
ow, will you part?"
This explanation appealed to the worsside of the Mexican's nature. This hatre
was after his own heart. Lablache wa
aware that such would be the case. That i
why he made it. He was accustomed tplay upon the feelings of people wit
whom he dealt—as well as their pocket
Pedro Mancha grinned complacently. H
hought he understood his employer.
"Hand over the bills. Guess I'll part. Th
price is slim, but it's not a bad deal."
Lablache oozed over to the safe. H
opened it, keeping one heavy eye upon hi
companion. He took no chances—h
rusted no one, especially Pedro Mancha
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Presently he returned with a roll of notes
t contained the exact amount. Th
Mexican watched him hungrily as h
counted out the green-backed bills. Hiips moistened beneath his mustache—hi
eyes looked wilder than ever. Lablach
understood his customer thoroughly. A
oaded revolver was in his own coapocket. It is probable that the brown-face
desperado knew this.
At last the money-lender held out thmoney. He held out both hands, one to
give and the other to receive. Pedr
passed him the I.O.U.'s and took the bills
One swift glance assured Lablache that thcoveted papers were all there. Then h
pointed to the door.
"Our transaction is over. Go!"
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He had had enough of his companion. H
had no hesitation in thus peremptoril
dismissing him.
"You're in a pesky hurry to get rid of me
See hyar, pard, you'd best be civil. Your
dealin's ain't a sight cleaner than mine."
"I'm waiting." Lablache's tone was coldl
commanding. His lashless eyes gaze
steadily into the other's face. Somethin
he Mexican saw in them impelled hiowards the door. He moved backwards
keeping his face turned towards th
money-lender. At this moment Lablache
was at his best. His was a dominatinpersonality. There was no cowardice i
his nature—at least no physica
cowardice. Doubtless, had it come to
struggle where agility was required, h
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would have fallen an easy prey to his lith
companion; but with him, somehow, i
never did come to a struggle. He had
way with him that chilled any such thoughhat a would-be assailant might have. Wil
and unflinching courage are splendi
assets. And, amongst others, this ma
possessed both.
Mancha slunk back to the door, and
fumbling at the lock, opened it and passe
out. Lablache instantly whipped out revolver, and, stepping heavily on on
side, advanced to the door, paused and
istened. He was well under cover. Th
door was open. He was behind it. Hknew better than to expose himself in th
ight for Mancha to make a target of hi
from without. Then he kicked the door to
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Making a complete circuit of the walls o
he office he came to the opposite side o
he door, where he swiftly locked and
bolted it. Then he drew an iron shutteacross the light panelling and secured it.
"Good," he muttered, as, sucking in
heavy breath, he returned to the stove anurned his back to it. "It's as well t
understand Mexican nature."
Then he lounged into his basket chair anrubbed his fleshy hands reflectively
There was a triumphant look upon hi
repulsive features.
"Quite right, friend Pedro, it's not a ba
deal," he said to himself, blinking at th
red light of the fire. "Not half bad. Seve
housand dollars for two thousand dollars
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and every cent of it realizable." He shoo
with inward mirth. "The Hon. Willia
Bunning-Ford will now have to disgorg
every stick of his estate. Good, good!"
Then he relapsed into deep though
Presently he roused himself from hi
reverie and prepared for bed.
"But I'll give him a chance. Yes, I'll give
him a chance," he muttered, as, afte
undergoing the simple operation oremoving his coat, he stretched himsel
upon his bed and drew the blankets abou
him. "If he'll consent to renounce an
claim, fancied or otherwise, he may havo Joaquina Allandale's regard I'll refrai
from selling him up. Yes, Verner Lablache
will forego his money—for a time."
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The great bed shook as the monumenta
money-lender suppressed a chuckle. The
he turned over, and his stertorou
nhalations soon suggested that the greaman slept.
Shylock, the Jew, determined on havin
his pound of flesh. But a woman outwittehim.
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CHAPTER X -
"AUNT" MARGARET
REFLECTS
t was almost dark when Jacky returned t
he ranch. She had left "Lord" Bill at th
brink of the great keg, whence he ha
returned to his own place. Her firshought, on entering the house, was for th
etter which she had left for her uncle. I
was gone. She glanced round the roo
uncertainly. Then she stood gazing into thstove, while she idly drummed with he
gauntleted fingers upon the back of
chair. She had as yet removed neither he
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governed her thoughts; a slight pucker o
he brows, which surely told of a grea
concentration of mind.
Presently she roused herself, and, walkin
o where a table-bell stood, rang sharpl
upon it. Her summons was almos
mmediately answered by the entry of servant.
Jacky turned as the door opened, and fire
an abrupt question.
"Has Uncle John been in, Mamie?"
The girl's face had resumed its usua
strong, kindly expression. Whatever wahidden behind that calm exterior, she had
no intention of giving a chance observe
any clew to it.
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"And what did he say?"
"He sent Silas for the letter, miss."
"He didn't say what time he would returnsuppose?"
"No, miss—" She hesitated and fumbled a
he door handle.
"Well?" as the girl showed by her attitude
hat there was something she had lef
unsaid.
Jacky's question rang acutely in the quie
room.
"Silas—" began the girl, with
deprecating air of unbelief—"you know
what strange notions he takes—he said—
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The girl stopped in confusion under th
steady gaze of her mistress.
"Speak up, girl," exclaimed Jackympatiently. "What is it?"
"Oh, nothing, miss," the girl blurted ou
desperately. "Only Silas said as th
master didn't seem well like."
"Ah! That will do." Then, as the girl stil
stood at the door, "You can go."
The dismissal was peremptory, and th
half-breed had no choice but to depart
She had hoped to have heard somethin
nteresting, but her mistress was nevegiven to being communicative wit
servants.
When the door had closed behind the half
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breed Jacky turned again towards th
stove. Again she was plunged in deep
hought. This time there could be n
mistake as to its tenor. Her heart waracked with an anxiety which was no
altogether new to it. The sweet face wa
pale and her eyelids flickered ominously
The servant's veiled meaning was quitplain to her. Brave, hardy as this girl o
he prairie was, the fear that was ever i
her heart had suddenly assumed th
proportions of a crushing reality. Sh
oved her uncle with an affection that wa
almost maternal. It was the love of
strong, resolute nature for one of a kindlbut weak disposition. She loved the gray
headed old man, whose affection ha
made her life one long, long day o
happiness, with a tenderness which n
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recently-acquired faults of his coul
alienate. He—and now another—was he
world. A world in which it was her joy to
dwell. And now—now; what of thpresent? Racked by losses brought abou
hrough the agency of his all-absorbin
passion, the weak old man was slowly bu
surely taking to drowning hiconsciousness of the appalling calamit
which he had consistently set to work t
bring about, and which in his luci
moments he saw looming heavily over hi
house, in drink. She had watched him wit
he never-failing eye of love, and ha
seen, to her horror, the signs she sodreaded. She could face disaster stoically
she could face danger unflinchingly, bu
his moral wrecking of the old man, wh
had been more to her than a father, wa
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more than she could bear. Two great tear
welled up into her beautiful, somber eye
and slowly rolled down her cheeks. Sh
bowed like a willow bending to the forcof the storm.
Her weakness was only momentary
however; her courage, bred from thwildness of her life surroundings, ros
superior to her feminine weakness. Sh
dashed her gloved hands across her eye
and wiped the tears away. She felt that shmust be doing—not weeping. Had not sh
sealed a solemn compact with her lover
She must to work without delay.
She glanced round the room. Her gaze wa
hat of one who wishes to reassure herself
t was as if the old life had gone from he
and she was about to embark on a caree
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new—foreign to her. A career in which
she could see no future—only the presen
She felt like one taking a long farewell t
a life which had been fraught with nothinbut delight. The expression of her fac
old of the pain of the parting. With
heavy sigh she passed out of the room—
out into the chill night air, where even thwelcome sounds of the croaking frogs an
he lowing cattle were not. Where nothin
was to cheer her for the work which in th
future must be hers. Something of tha
solemn night entered her soul. The gloo
of disaster was upon her.
t was only a short distance to Dr. Abbot'house. The darkness of the night was n
hindrance to the girl. Hither she made he
way with the light, springing step of on
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whose mind is made up to a definit
purpose.
She found Mrs. Abbot in. The little sittingroom in the doctor's house wa
delightfully homelike and comfortable
There was nothing pretentious about it—
ust solid comfort. And the great radiatinstove in the center of it smelt invitingl
warm to the girl as she came in out of th
raw night air. Mrs. Abbot was alternating
between a basket of sewing and a wellworn, cheap-edition novel. The old lad
was waiting with patience, the outcome o
experience, for the return of her lord to hi
supper.
"Well, 'Aunt' Margaret," said Jacky
entering with the confidence of an assure
welcome, "I've come over for a goo
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gossip. There's nobody at home—u
here," with a nod in the direction of th
ranch.
"My dear child, I'm so pleased,
exclaimed Mrs. Abbot, coming forward
from her rather rigid seat, and kissing th
girl on both cheeks with old-fashionecordiality. "Come and sit by the stove—
yes, take that hideous hat off, which, b
he way, I never could understand you
wearing. Now, when John and I were firsen—"
"Yes, yes, dear. I know what you're going
o say," interrupted the girl, smiling ispite of the dull aching at her heart. Sh
knew how this sweet old lady lived in th
past, and she also knew how, to
sympathetic ear, she loved to pour out th
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delights of memory from a hear
overflowing with a strong affection for th
man of her choice. Jacky had come here t
alk of other matters, and she knew thawhen "Aunt" Margaret liked she could b
very shrewd and practical.
Something in the half-wistful smile of hecompanion brought the old lady quickl
back from the realms of recollection, an
a pair of keen, kindly eyes met the stead
gray-black orbs of the girl.
"Ah, Jacky, my child, we of the frivolou
sex are always being forced int
considering the mundane matters oeveryday life here at Foss River. What i
t, dear? I can see by your face that yo
are worrying over something."
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The girl threw herself into an easy chair
drawn up to the glowing stove wit
careful forethought by the old lady. Mrs
Abbot reseated herself in the straightbacked chair she usually affected. Sh
carefully put her book on one side an
ook up some darning, assiduousl
nserting the needle but without furtheattempt at work. It was something to fi
her attention on whilst talking. Old Mrs
Abbot always liked to be able to occup
her hands when talking seriously. And
Jacky's face told her that this was
moment for serious conversation.
"Where's the Doc?" the girl asked withoupreamble. She knew, of course, but sh
used the question by way of making
beginning.
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The old lady imperceptibly straightene
her back. She now anticipated the reaso
of her companion's coming. She glance
over the top of a pair of gold pince-nezwhich she had just settled comfortabl
upon the bridge of her pretty, broad nose.
"He's down at the saloon playing pokerWhy, dear?"
Her question was so innocent, but Jack
was not for a moment deceived by itone. The girl smiled plaintively into th
fire. There was no necessity for her t
disguise her feelings before "Aunt
Margaret, she knew. But her loyal naturshrank from flaunting her uncle'
weaknesses before even this kindly sou
She kept her fencing attitude a littl
onger, however.
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"Who is he playing with?" Jacky raised
pair of inquiring gray eyes to he
companion's face.
"Your uncle and—Lablache."
The shrewd old eyes watched the girl'
face keenly. But Jacky gave no sign.
"Will you send for him, 'Aunt' Margaret?
said the girl, quietly. "Without letting him
know that I am here," she added, as a
afterthought.
"Certainly, dear," the old lady replied
rising with alacrity. "Just wait a momen
while I send word. Keewis hasn't gone this teepee yet. I set him to clean som
knives just now. He can go. These Indian
are better messengers than they ar
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domestics." Mrs. Abbot bustled out of th
room.
She returned a moment later, and, drawinher chair beside that of the girl, seate
herself and rested one soft white hand o
hose of her companion, which wer
reposing clasped in the lap of hedungaree skirt.
"Now, tell me, dear—tell me all about i
—I know, it is your uncle."
The sympathy of her tone could neve
have been conveyed in mere words. Thi
woman's heart expressed its kindliness i
voice and eyes. There was no resistin
her, and Jacky made no effort to do so.
For one instant there flashed into the girl'
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face a look of utter distress. She had com
purposely to talk plainly to the woma
whom she had lovingly dubbed "Aun
Margaret," but she found it very harwhen it came to the point, She cast abou
n her mind for a beginning, the
abandoned the quest and blurted ou
amely the very thing from which she mosshrank.
"Say, auntie, you've observed uncle latel
—I mean how strange he is? You'venoticed how often, now, he is—is no
himself?"
"Whisky," said the old ladyuncompromisingly. "Yes, dear, I have. I
s quite the usual thing to smell' old ma
Smith's vile liquor when John Allandale i
about. I'm glad you've spoken. I did no
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ike to say anything to you about it. John'
on a bad trail."
"Yes, and a trail with a long, downhilgradient," replied Jacky, with a ruefu
ittle smile. "Say, aunt," she went on
springing suddenly to her feet an
confronting the old lady's mildlyastonished gaze, "isn't there anything w
can do to stop him? What is it? This poke
and whisky are ruining him body and sou
s the whisky the result of his losses? Os the madness for a gamble the result o
he liquor?"
"Neither the one—nor the other, my deart is—Lablache."
The older woman bent over her darning
and the needle passed, rippling, round
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"potato" in the sock which was in her lap
Her eyes were studiously fixed upon th
work.
"Lablache—Lablache! It is alway
Lablache, whichever way I turn. Gee—bu
he whole country reeks of him. I tell yo
right here, aunt, that man's worse thascurvy in our ranching world. Everybod
and everything in Foss River seems to b
n his grip."
"Excepting a certain young woman wh
refuses to be ensnared."
The words were spoken quite casually
But Jacky started. Their meaning wa
driven straight home. She looked dow
upon the bent, gray head as if trying t
penetrate to the thought that was passin
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within. There was a moment's impressiv
silence. The clock ticked loudly in th
silence of the room. A light wind wa
whistling rather shrilly outside, round thangles of the house.
"Go on, auntie," said the girl, slowly
"You haven't said enough—yet. I guesyou're thinking mighty—deeply."
Mrs. Abbot looked up from her work. Sh
was smiling, but behind that smile therwas a strange gravity in the expression o
her eyes.
"There is nothing more to say at present.
Then she added, in a tone from which al
seriousness had vanished, "Hasn
Lablache ever asked you to marry him?"
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A light was beginning to dawn upon th
girl.
"Yes—why?""I thought so." It was now Mrs. Abbot'
urn to rise and confront her companion
And she did so with the calm manner o
one who is assured that what she is abou
o say cannot be refuted. Her kindly fac
had lost nothing of its sweet expression
only there was something in it whicseemed to be asking a mute question
whilst her words conveyed the statemen
of a case as she knew it. "You dear
foolish people. Can you not see what igoing on before your very eyes, or must
stupid old woman like myself explai
what is patent to the veriest fool in th
settlement? Lablache is the source of you
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uncle's trouble, and, incidentally, you ar
he incentive. I have watched—I hav
ittle else to do in Foss River—you all fo
years past, and there is little that I coulnot tell you about any of you, as far as th
world sees you. Lablache has been
source of a world of thought to me. Th
business side of him is patent teverybody. He is hard, flinty, tyrannical—
even unscrupulous. I am telling yo
nothing new, I know. But there is anothe
side to his character which some of yo
seem to ignore. He is capable of stron
passions—ay, very strong passions. H
has conceived a passion for you. I wilcall it by no other name in such an unhol
brute as Lablache. He wishes to marr
ou—he means to marry you."
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The silver-haired old lady had worke
herself up to an unusual vehemence. Sh
paused after accentuating her last words
Jacky, taking advantage of the breakdropped in a question.
"But—how does this affect my uncle?"
"Aunt" Margaret sniffed disdainfully an
resettled the glasses which, in th
agitation of the moment, had slipped fro
her nose.
"Of course it affects your uncle," sh
continued more quietly. "Now listen and
will explain." Once more these two seate
hemselves and "Aunt" Margaret agai
plunged into her story.
"Sometimes I catch myself speculating a
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o how it comes about that you hav
nspired this passion in such a man a
Lablache," she began, glancing into th
somberly beautiful face beside her. "should have expected that mass of fles
and money—he always reminds me of
elly-fish, my dear—ugh!—to hav
wished to take to himself one of yougaudy butterflies from New York o
London for a wife; not a simple child o
he prairie who is more than half a wild—
wild savage." She smiled lovingly into th
girl's face. "You see these coarse money
grubbers always prefer their pills wel
gilded, and, as a rule, their matrimoniapills need a lot of gilding to bring them u
o the standard of what they think a wif
should be. However, it was not lon
before it became plain to me that h
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wished to marry you. He may be a maste
of finance; he may disguise his feelings—
f he has any—in business, so that th
shrewdest observer can discover nvulnerable point in his armor o
dissimulation. But when it comes t
matters pertaining to—to—love—quit
he wrong word in his case, my dear—hese men are as babes; worse, they ar
fools. When Lablache makes up his min
o a purpose he generally accomplishe
his end—"
"In business," suggested Jacky, moodily.
"Just so—in business, my dear. In mattermatrimonial it may be different. But
doubt his failure in that," went on Mrs
Abbot, with a decided snap of he
expressive mouth. "He will try by fai
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means or foul, and, if I know anything o
him, he will never relinquish his purpose
He asked you to marry him—and o
course you refused, quite natural and rightHe will not risk another refusal from yo
—these people consider themselves ver
sensitive, my dear—so he will attempt t
accomplish his end by other means—means much more congenial to him, the—
he beast. There now, I've said it, my dear
The doctor tells me that he is quite th
most skilful player at poker that he ha
ever come across."
"I guess that's so," said the girl, with
dark, ironical smile.
"And that his luck is phenomenal," the ol
ady went on, without appearing to notic
he interruption. "Very well. Your uncle
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he old fool—excuse me, my dear—ha
done nothing but gamble all his life. Th
doctor says that he believes John ha
never been known to win more than abouonce in a month's play, no matter with
whom he plays. You know—we all know
—that for years he has been in the habit o
raising loans from this monumental cuttlefish to settle his losses. And you can trus
hat individual to see that these loans ar
well secured. John Allandale is reputed
very rich, but the doctor assures me tha
were Lablache to foreclose his mortgage
a very, very big slice of your uncle'
worldly goods would be taken to meet hidebts.
"Now comes the last stage of the affair,
she went on, with a sage little shake of th
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head. "How long ago is it since Lablach
proposed to you? But there, you need no
ell me. It was a little less than a year ag
—wasn't it?"
Her companion nodded her head. Sh
wondered how "Aunt" Margaret ha
guessed it. She had never told a souherself. The shrewd little old lady wa
filling her with wonder. The carefu
manner in which she had pieced fact
ogether and argued them out with herselrevealed to her a cleverness an
observation she would never, in spite o
he kindly soul's counsels, have given he
credit for.
"Yes, I knew I was right," said Mrs
Abbot, complacently. "Just about the tim
when Lablache began seriously to pla
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poker—about the time when hi
phenomenal luck set in, to the detriment o
your uncle. Yes, I am well posted," as the
girl raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Thdoctor tells me a great deal—especiall
about your uncle, dear. I always like to
know what is going on. And now to brin
my long explanation to an end. Don't yosee how Lablache intends to marry you
Your uncle's losses this winter have been
so terribly heavy—and all to Lablache
Lablache holds the whip hand of him. A
request from Lablache becomes
command—or the crash."
"But how about the Doc," asked Jackyquickly. "He plays with them—mostly?"
Mrs. Abbot shrugged her shoulders.
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"The doctor can take care of himself. He'
cautious, and besides—Lablache has n
wish to win his money."
"But surely he must lose? Say, auntie
dear, it's not possible to play agains
Lablache's luck without losing—some."
"Well, dear, I can't say I know much of the
game," with some perplexity, "but th
doctor assures me that Lablache never hit
him hard. Often and often when the 'porests between them Lablache will throw
down his hand—which goes to show tha
he does not want to take his money."
"An' I reckon goes to show that he'
bucking dead against Uncle John, only
Yes, I see."
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The little gray head again bent over th
darning, which had lain almost untouche
n her lap during her long recital. Now sh
resolutely drew the darning yarn throughe soft wool of the sock and re-inserte
he needle. The girl beside her bent a
eager face before her, and, resting her chi
upon her hands, propped her elbows oher knees.
"Yes, auntie, I know," Jacky went on
houghtfully. "Lablache means to put thimarriage with me right through. I see it al
But say," bringing one of her brown hand
down forcibly upon that of her companion
which was concealed in the foot of thwoolen sock, and gripping it with nervou
strength, "I guess he's reckoned withou
his bride. I'm not going to marry Lablache
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auntie, dear, and you can bet your botto
dollar I'm not going to let him ruin uncle
All I want to do is to stop uncle drinking
That is what scares me most."
"My child, Lablache is the cause of that
The same as he is the cause of all trouble
n Foss River. Your uncle realizes theconsequences of the terrible losses he ha
ncurred. He knows, only too well, that h
s utterly in the money-lender's power. H
knows he must go on playing, vainlendeavoring to recover himself, and wit
each fresh loss he drinks deeper t
smother his fears and conscience. It is th
result of the weakness of his nature—weakness which I have always know
would sooner or later lead to his undoing
Jacky, girl, I fear you will one day have to
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marry Lablache or your uncle's ruin wil
be certainly accomplished."
Mrs. Abbot's face was very serious nowShe pitied from the bottom of her hear
his motherless girl who had come to her
n spite of her courage and almost mannis
ndependence, for that sympathy anadvice which, at certain moments, th
strongest woman cannot do without. Sh
knew that all she had said was right, an
even if her story could do no materiagood it would at least have the effect o
putting the girl on her guard. In spite of he
shrewdness Mrs. Abbot could never quit
fathom her protégée. And even now, ashe gazed into the girl's face, she wa
wondering how—in what manner—th
narration of her own observations woul
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nfluence the other's future actions. Th
hick blood of the half-breed slowly ros
nto Jacky's face, until the dark skin wa
suffused with a heavy, passionate flushSlowly, too, the somber eyes lit—glowed
—until the dazzling fire of anger shone i
heir depths. Then she spoke; no
passionately, but with a hard, cruedelivery which sent a shiver thrillin
hrough her companion's body and left he
shuddering.
"'Aunt' Margaret, I swear by all that's hol
hat I'll never marry that scum. Say, I'd
rather follow a round-up camp and share
greaser's blankets than wear all thdiamonds Lablache could buy. An' as fo
uncle; say, the day that sees him ruined'l
see Lablache's filthy brains spoiling God'
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pure air."
"Child, child," replied the old lady, i
alarm, "don't take oaths, the rashness—thfolly of which you cannot comprehend
For goodness' sake don't entertain suc
wicked thoughts. Lablache is a villain, bu
—"
She broke off and turned towards th
door, which, at that moment, opened to
admit the genial doctor.
"Ah," she went on, with a sudden chang
of manner back to that of her usua
cheerful self, "I thought you men wer
going to make a night of it. Jacky came t
share my solitude."
"Good evening, Jacky," said the doctor
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"Yes, we were going to make a night of it
Margaret. Your summons broke up the
party, and for John's sake—" He checked
himself, and glanced curiously at threcurrent form of the girl, who was now
ounging back in her chair gazing into th
stove. "What did you want me for?"
Jacky rose abruptly from her seat an
picked up her hat.
"'Aunt' Margaret didn't really want youDoc. It was I who asked her to send fo
you. I want to see uncle."
"Ah!"
The doctor permitted himself th
ejaculation.
"Good-night, you two dear people," th
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girl went on, with a forced attempt a
cheerfulness. "I guess uncle'll be home b
now, so I'll be off."
"Yes, he left the saloon with me," said
Doctor Abbot, shaking hands and walkin
owards the door. "You'll just about catch
him."
The girl kissed the old lady and passe
out. The doctor stood for a moment on hi
doorstep gazing after her.
"Poor child—poor child!" he murmured
"Yes, she'll find him—I saw him home
myself," And he broke off with a
expressive shrug.
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CHAPTER XI - THE
CAMPAIGN OPENS
The summit of a hill, howeve
nsignificant its altitude, is always anspiring vantage point from which t
survey the surrounding world. There is
briskness of atmosphere on a hillto
which is inspiriting to the most jaded o
faculties; there is a sparkling vitality in th
breath of the morning air which must eve
make life a joy and the world seem anexpressible delight in which it is th
acme of happiness to dwell.
The exigencies of prairie life demand th
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habit of early rising, and more often doe
he tiny human atom, which claims for it
home the vast tracts of natural pasture
gaze upon the sloth of the orb of day thadoes that glorious sphere smile dow
upon a sleeping world.
Far as the eye can reach stretch the mightwastes of waving grass—the undulatin
plains of ravishing verdure. What breadt
of thought must thus be inspired in on
who gazes out across the boundlesexpanse at the glories of a perfect sunrise
How insignificant becomes the pett
affairs of man when gazing upon th
majesty of God's handiwork. How utterlnconceivable becomes the association o
evil with such transcendently beautifu
creation? Surely no evil was intended t
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urk in the shadow of so much simpl
splendor.
And yet does the ghastly specter of crimhaunt the perfect plains, the majesti
valleys, the noiseless, inspiring pin
woods, the glistening, snow-capped hills
And so it must remain as long as the battlof life continues undecided—so long a
he struggle for existence endures.
The Hon. Bunning-Ford rose while yet thdaylight was struggling to overcome th
shades of night. He stood upon the tin
veranda which fronted his minute house
smoking his early morning cigarette. Hwas waiting for his coffee—tha
stimulating beverage which few who hav
ived in the wilds of the West can do
without—and idly luxuriating in th
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wondrous charm of scene which wa
spread out before him. "Lord" Bill wa
not a man of great poetic mind, but h
appreciated his adopted country—"God'country," as he was wont to call it—a
can only those who have lived in it. Th
prairie had become part of his ver
existence, and he loved to contemplate thvarying lights and colors which move
athwart the fresh spring-clad plains as th
sun rose above the eastern horizon.
The air was chill, but withal invigorating
as he watched the steely blue of the dayli
sky slowly give place to the rosy tint o
sunrise. Slowly at first—then faster—great waves of golden light seemed t
eap from the top of one green risin
ground to another; the gray white of th
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snowy western mountains passed from on
dead shade to another, until, at last, they
gleamed like alabaster from afar with
diamond brilliancy almost painful to theye. Thus the sun rose like some might
caldron of fire mounting into the cloudles
azure of a perfect sky, showering unctuou
rays of light and heat upon the chilled lifhat was of its own creating.
Bill was still lost in thought, gazing ou
upon the perfect scene from the vantagpoint of the hill upon which his "shack
stood, when round the corner of the hous
came a half-breed, bearing a large ti
pannikin of steaming coffee. He took thpannikin from the man and proppe
himself against a post which helped t
support the roof of the veranda.
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"Are the boys out yet?" he asked th
waiting Breed, and nodding towards th
corrals, which reposed at the foot of th
hill and were overlooked by the house.
"I guess," the fellow replied laconically
Then, as an afterthought, "They're gettin
breakfast, anyhow."
"Say, when they've finished their grub yo
can tell 'em to turn to and lime out th
sheds. I'm going in to the settlement today. If I'm not back to-night let them go
right on with the job to-morrow."
The man signified his understanding of th
nstructions with a grunt. This cook o
"Lord" Bill's was not a man of words. Hi
vocation had induced an irascibility o
emper which took the form of silence. Hi
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was an incipient misanthropy.
Bill returned the empty pannikin an
strolled down towards the corrals ansheds. The great barn lay well away fro
where the cattle congregated. This ranc
was very different from that of th
Allandales of Foss River. It was sommiles away from the settlement. It
surroundings were far more open. Timbe
backed the house, it is true, but in fron
was the broad expanse of the open plainst was an excellent position, and
governed by a thrifty hand, woul
undoubtedly have thrived and ultimatel
vied with the more elaboratestablishment over which Jacky hel
sway. As it was, however, Bill cared
ittle for prosperity and money-making
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and though he did not neglect his propert
he did not attempt to extend its presen
imits.
The milch cows were slowly mouchin
from the corrals as he neared the sheds. A
diminutive herder was urging them alon
with shrill, piping shrieks—vicious buneffective. Far more to the purpose wer
he efforts to a well-trained, bob-taile
sheep dog who was awaking echoes o
he brisk morning air with the full-tonenote of his bark.
"Lord" Bill found one or two hand
quietly enjoying their after-breakfassmoke, but the majority had not as yet lef
he kitchen. Outside the barn two me
were busily soft-soaping their saddles an
bridles, whilst a third, seated on a
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upturned box, was wiping out his revolve
with a coal-oil rag. Bill passed them b
with a nod and greeting, and went into th
stable. The horses were feeding, but as yehe stalls had not been cleaned out. H
returned and gave some instructions to on
of the men. Then he walked slowly bac
o the house. Usually he would havstayed down there to see the work of th
day carried out; now, however, he wa
preoccupied. On this particular mornin
he took but little interest in the place; h
knew only too well how soon it must pas
from his possession.
Half-way up the hill he paused and turnehis sleepy eyes towards the south. At
considerable distance a vehicle wa
approaching at a spanking pace. It was
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buckboard, one of those sturd
conveyances built especially for ligh
prairie transport. As yet it was no
sufficiently near for him to distinguish itoccupant, but the speed and cut of th
horses seemed familiar to him. H
continued on towards the house, an
seated himself leisurely on the verandaand, rolling himself another cigarette
calmly watched the on-comin
conveyance.
t was the habit of this man never to b
prodigal in the display of energy. H
usually sat when there was no need fo
standing; he always considered speech tbe golden, but silence, to his way o
hinking, was priceless. And like mos
men of such opinion he cultivated though
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and observation.
He propped his back against the verand
post, and, taking a deep inhalation frohis cigarette, gazed long and earnestly
with half-closed eyes, down the windin
southern trail.
His curiosity, if such a feeling might hav
been attributed to him, was soon set a
rest, for, as the horses raced up the hil
owards him, he had no difficulty irecognizing the bulky proportions of hi
visitor. Seeing the driver of the buckboard
making for the house, two of the "hands
had hastened up the hill to take the horsesLablache, for it was the fleshy money
ender, slid, as agilely as his great bul
would permit him, from the vehicle, an
he two men took charge of the horses
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Bill was not altogether cordial. It was no
his way to be so to anybody but hi
friends.
"How are you?" he said with a nod, bu
without rising from his recumbent attitude
"Goin' to stay long?"
His latter question sounded churlish, bu
Lablache understood his meaning. It wa
of the horses the rancher was thinking.
"An hour, maybe," replied Lablache
breathing heavily as a result of his clim
out of the buckboard.
"Right Take 'em away, boys. Remove theharness and give 'em a good rub down
Don't water or feed 'em till they're coo
They're spanking 'plugs,' Lablache," h
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added, as he watched the horses being le
down to the barn. "Come inside. Ha
breakfast?" rising and knocking the dus
from the seat of his moleskin trousers.
"Yes, I had breakfast before daylight
hanks," Lablache said, glancing quickl
down at the empty corrals, where hihorses were about to undergo a rubbin
down. "I came out to have a business cha
with you. Shall we go in-doors?"
"Most certainly."
There was an expressive curtness in th
wo words. Bill permitted himself a brie
survey of the great man's back as the latte
urned towards the front door. And
although his half-closed lids hid th
expression of his eyes, the pursing of th
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ips and the fluctuating muscles of his jaw
spoke of unpleasant thoughts passin
hrough his mind. A business talk with
Lablache, under the circumstances, coulnot afford the rancher much pleasure. H
followed the money-lender into the sitting
room.
The apartment was very bare, mannish
and scarcely the acme of neatness. A desk
a deck chair, a bench and a couple of old
fashioned windsor chairs; a small tableon which breakfast things were set, an ol
saddle, a rack of guns and rifles, a few
rophies of the chase in the shape of skin
and antelope heads comprised thfurniture and decorations of the room. And
oo, in that slightly uncouth collection
something of the character of th
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proprietor was revealed.
Bunning-Ford was essentially careless o
comfort. And surely he was nothing if noa keen and ardent sportsman.
"Sit down." Bill indicated the chairs wit
a wave of the arm. Lablache dubiousl
eyed the deck chair, then selected one o
he unyielding Windsor chairs as mor
safe for the burden of his precious body
ested it, and sat down, emitting a gasp obreath like an escape of steam from
safety-valve. The younger man proppe
himself on the corner of his desk.
Lablache looked furtively into hi
companion's face. Then he turned his eye
n the direction of the window. Bill said
nothing, his face was calm. He intende
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he money-lender to speak first. The latte
seemed indisposed to do so. His lashles
eyes gazed steadily out at the prairi
beyond. "Lord" Bill's persistent silence aength forced the other into speech. Hi
words came slowly and were frequentl
punctuated with deep breaths.
"Your ranch—everything you possess i
held on first mortgage."
"Not all." Bunning-Ford's answer camswiftly. The abruptness of the other'
announcement nettled him. The tone of th
words conveyed a challenge which th
younger man was not slow to accept.
Lablache shrugged his shoulders wit
deliberation until his fleshy jowl crease
against the woolen folds of his shirt front.
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"It comes to the same thing," he said
"what I—what is not mortgaged is held i
bonds. The balance, practically all of i
you owe under signature to Pedro Manchat is because of that—latest—debt I a
here."
"Ah!"
Bill rolled a fresh cigarette and lit it. H
guessed something of what was coming—
but not all.
"Mancha will force you to meet you
iabilities to him. Your interest is shortly
due to the Calford Loan Co. You canno
meet both."
Lablache gazed unblinkingly into th
other's face. He was thoroughly enjoyin
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himself.
Bill was staring pensively at his cigarette
One leg swung pendulum fashion besidhe desk. His indebtedness troubled hi
not a jot. He was trying to fathom th
object of this prelude. Lablache, he knew
had not come purposely to make thesplain statements. He blew a cloud o
smoke down his nostrils with muc
appreciation. Then he heaved a sigh a
hough his troubles were too great for hio bear.
"Right—dead right, first time."
The lazy eyes appeared to be staring int
space. In reality they were watching th
doughy countenance before him. "What d
you propose to do?" Lablache asked
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gnoring the other's flippant tone.
Bill shrugged.
"Debts of honor must be met first," he saiquietly. "Mancha must be paid in full.
shall take care of that. For the rest, I hav
no doubt your business knowledge wil
prompt you as to what course the Calfor
Loan Co. and yourself had best adopt."
Lablache was slightly taken aback at th
cool indifference of this man. He scarcel
knew how to deal with him. He had drive
out this morning intending to coerce, or, a
east, strike a hard bargain. But the objec
of his attentions was, to say the least of it
difficult.
He moved uneasily and crossed his legs.
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"There is only one course open to you
creditors. It is a harsh method and on
which goes devilishly against the grain
But—"
"Pray don't apologize, Mr. Lablache,
broke in the other, smiling sardonically. "
am fully aware of the tender condition oyour feelings. I only trust that in this matte
you will carry out your—er—painful dut
without worrying me with the detail of th
necessary routine. I shall settle Mancha'debt at once and then you are welcome t
he confounded lot."
Bill moved from his position and walkeowards the door. The significance of hi
action was well marked. Lablache
however, had no intention of going yet. H
moved heavily round upon his chair so a
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o face his man.
"One moment—er—Ford. You are a trifle
precipitate. I was going on to say, wheyou interrupted me, that if you cared t
meet me half-way I have a proposition t
make which might solve your difficulty. I
s an unusual one, I admit, but," with meaning smile, "I rather fancy that th
Calford Loan Co. might be induced to se
he advantage, to them, of delayin
action."
The object of this early morning visit wa
about to be made apparent. Bill returne
o his position at the desk and lit anothecigarette. The suave manner of hi
unwelcome guest was dangerous. He wa
prepared. There was something almos
feline in the attitude and the expression o
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he young rancher as he waited for th
money-lender to proceed. Perhap
Lablache understood him. Perhaps hi
understanding warned him to adopt hibest manner. His usual method in dealin
with his victims was hardly the same as h
was now using.
"Well, what is this 'unusual' course?
asked Bill, in no very tolerant tone. H
wished it made quite plain that he care
nothing about the "selling up" process twhich he knew he must be subjected
Lablache noted the haughty manner an
resented it, but still he gave no outwar
sign. He had a definite object to attain anhe would not allow his anger to interfer
with his chances of success.
"Merely a pleasant little busines
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arrangement which should meet al
parties' requirements," he said easily. "A
present you are paying a ten per cen
nterest on a principal of thirty-fivhousand dollars to the Calford Loan Co
A debt of twenty thousand to me include
an amount of interest which represents te
per cent, interest for ten years. Very wellYour ranch should be yielding a greate
profit than it is. With your permission th
Calford Trust Co. shall put in a competen
manager, whose salary shall be paid ou
of the profits. The balance of said profit
shall be handed Over to your creditors
ess an annual income to you of fifteehundred dollars. Thus the principal o
your debts, at a careful computation
should be liquidated in seven years. I
consideration of thus shortening the perio
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of the loans by three years the Calfor
Trust Co. shall allow you a rebate of fiv
per cent, interest. Failing the profits i
seven years amounting to the sums omoney required, the Calford Trust Co. and
myself will forego the balance due to us
Let me plainly assure you that this is n
philanthropic scheme but the result opractical calculation. The advantage t
you is obvious. An assured income durin
hat period, and your ranch well and abl
managed and improved. Your property a
he end of seven years will return to you
vastly more valuable possession than it i
at present. And we, on our part, wilrecover our money and interest without th
unpleasant reflection that, in doing so, w
have beggared you."
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Lablache, usurer, scoundrel, smiled
benignly at his companion as h
pronounced his concluding words. Th
Hon. Bunning-Ford looked, thought, anooked again. He began to think tha
Lablache was meditating a more rascall
proceeding than he had given him credi
for. His words were so specious. His piwas so delicately crusted with such
empting exterior. What was the object o
his magnanimous offer? He felt he mus
know more.
"It sounds awfully well, but surely that i
not all. What, in return, is demanded o
me?"
Lablache had carefully watched the effec
of his words. He was wondering whethe
he man he was dealing with was cleve
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beyond the average, or a fool. He was stil
balancing the point in his mind when Bil
put the question.
Lablache looked away, produced a snuff
box and drew up a large pinch of snuf
before answering. He blew his nose wit
rumpet-like vehemence on a great rebandana.
"The only return asked of you is that yo
vacate the country for the next two years,he said heavily. And in that rejoinde
"Lord" Bill understood the man's guile.
t was a sudden awakening, but it came t
him as no sort of surprise. He had lon
suspected, although he had never give
serious credence to his suspicions, th
object the money-lender had in inveiglin
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both himself and "Poker" John into thei
present difficulties. Now he understood
and a burning desire swept over him t
shoot the man down where he sat. Then revulsion of feeling came to him and h
saw the ludicrous side of the situation. H
gazed at Lablache, that obese mountain o
blubber, and tried to think of the beautifulwild Jacky as the money-lender's wife
The thing seemed so preposterous that h
burst out into a mocking laugh.
Lablache, whose fishy eyes had never lef
he rancher's face, heard the tone an
slowly flushed with anger. For an instan
he seemed about to rise, then instead heant forward.
"Well?" he asked, breathing hi
monosyllabic inquiry hissing upon the air
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Bill emitted a thin cloud of smoke into th
money-lender's face. His eyes ha
suddenly become wide open and blazin
with anger. He pointed to the door.
"I'll see you damned first! Now—git!"
At the door Lablache turned. In his fac
was written all the fury of hell.
"Mancha's debt is transferred to me. You
will settle it without delay."
He had scarcely uttered the last wor
when there was a loud report, an
simultaneously the crash of a bullet in th
casing of the door. Lablache accepted hidismissal with precipitation and hastene
o where his horses were stationed, to th
accompaniment of "Lord" Bill's mockin
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augh. He had no wish to test the rancher'
marksmanship further.
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CHAPTER XII -
LABLACHE FORCES
THE FIGHT
A month—just one month and the earl
spring has developed with almost tropica
suddenness into a golden summer. Th
rapid passing of seasons, the abrupt breakhe lightning change from one into another
s one of the many beauties of the climat
of that fair land where there are no hal
measures in Nature's mode of dealing oufrom her varied store of moods. Sprin
chases Winter, hoary, bitter, cruel Winter
n the hours of one night; and in tur
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Spring's delicate influence i
overpowered with equal celerity by th
more matured and unctuous ripeness o
Summer.
Foss River had now become a gloriou
picture of vivid coloring. The clumps o
pine woods no longer present theiattered purplish appearance, the garb i
which grim Winter is wont to robe them
They are lighter, gayer, and bathed in the
gleaming sunlight they are transformefrom their somber forbidding aspect t
hat of radiant, welcome shade. The rive
s high, almost to flooding point. And th
melting snow on the distant mountain-tophas urged it into a sparkling torrent of ic
cold water rushing on at a pace whic
hreatens to tear out its deterring bank
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and shallow bed in its mad career.
The most magical change which the firs
month of summer has brought is to be seen the stock. Cattle, when first brought i
from distant parts at the outset of th
round-up, usually are thin, mean-looking
and half-starved. Two weeks of thedelicious spring grass and the fat on thei
ribs and loins rolls and shakes as the
move, growing almost visibly under th
succulent influence of the delicatvegetation.
Few at Foss River appreciated th
blessings of summer more fully than diJacky Allandale, and few worked harde
han did she. Almost single-handed sh
grappled with the stupendous task of th
management of the great ranch, and n
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"hand," however experienced, was mor
capable in the most arduous tasks whic
hat management involved. From th
skillful organization down to the ropinand branding of a wild two-year-old stee
here was no one who understood th
business of stock-raising better than she
She loved it—it was the very essence oife to her.
Silas, her uncle's foreman, was in th
habit of summing her up in his brief buexpressive way.
"Missie Jacky?" he would exclaim, i
ones of surprise, to any one who dared texpress wonder at her masterl
management. "Guess a cyclone does it
biz mighty thorough, but I take it ef that ga
ud been born a hurricane she'd 'av
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dislodged mountains an' played basebal
with the glaciers."
But this year things were different with thmistress of the Foss River Ranch. Tru
she went about her work with tha
horough appreciation which she alway
displayed, but the young face had lassomething of its happy girlish delight—
h a t débonnaire cheerfulness whic
usually characterized it. A shadow
seemed to be hanging over her—shadow, which, although it marred in no
way her fresh young beauty, added
deepened pensiveness to her great sombe
eyes, and seemed to broaden the fringinblack ring round the gray pupils. This yea
he girl had more to grapple with than th
mere management of the ranch.
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Her uncle needed all her care. And, too
he consciousness that the result of all he
work was insufficient to pay the exorbitan
nterest on mortgages which had beeforced upon her uncle by the hated
designing Lablache took something of th
zest from her labors. Then, besides this
here were thoughts of the compact sealebetween her lover and herself in Ba
Man's Hollow, and the knowledge of th
ntentions of the money-lender toward
"Lord" Bill, all helped to render he
distrait. She knew all about the scen
which had taken place at Bill's ranch, an
she knew that, for her lover at least, thcrash had come. During that first month o
he open season the girl had been sorel
ried. There was no one but "Aunt
Margaret to whom she could go fo
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comfort or sympathy, and even she, wit
her wise councils and far-seein
udgment, could not share in the secret
which weighed so heavily upon the girl.
Jacky had not experienced, as might hav
been expected, very great difficulty i
keeping her uncle fast to the grind-stone oduty. Whatever his faults and weaknesses
John Allandale was first of all a rancher
and when once the winter breaks ever
rancher must work—ay, work like nonegro slave ever worked. It was only i
he evenings, when bodily fatigue ha
weakened the purpose of ranching habi
and when the girl, wearied with her day'work, relaxed her vigilance, that the ol
man craved for the object of his passio
and its degrading accompaniment. Then h
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would nibble at the whisky bottle, havin
"earned his tonic," as he would say, unti
he potent spirit had warmed his courag
and he would hurry off to the saloon fo"half an hour's flutter," which generall
erminated in the small hours of th
morning.
Such was the state of affairs at the Fos
River Ranch when Lablache put int
execution his threats against the Hon
Bunning-Ford. The settlement had returneo its customary torpid serenity. Th
round-up was over, and all the "hands
had returned to the various ranches t
which they belonged. The little place haentered upon its period of placid sleep
which would last until the advent of th
farmers to spend the proceeds of thei
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oved her with a deep, strong affection.
Foss River was far too sleepy to bothe
about these comings and goings. Lablachealone, of the sleepy hamlet, eyed th
evening journeys with suspicion. But eve
he was unable to fathom their object, an
was forced to set them down, his wholbeing consumed with jealousy the while
o lovers' wanderings. However, thes
nightly rides were taken with purpose
After galloping across the prairie ivarious directions they always, a
darkness crept on, terminated at a certai
spot—the clump of willows and reeds a
which the secret path across the great kebegan.
The sun was well down below the distan
mountain peaks when Jacky and her love
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reached the scrubby bush of willows an
reeds upon the evening before the day o
he sale of Bill's ranch. As they drew up
heir panting horses, and dismounted, thevening twilight was deepening over th
vast expanse of the mire.
The girl stood at the brink of thbottomless caldron of viscid muck an
gazed out across the deadly plain. Bil
stood still beside her, watching her fac
with eager, hungry eyes.
"Well?" he said at last, as his impatience
forced itself to his lips.
"Yes, Bill," the girl answered slowly, a
one balancing her decision well befor
giving judgment, "the path has widened
The rain has kept off long enough, and th
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sun has done his best for us. It is a goo
omen. Follow me."
She linked her arm through the reins of hehorse's bridle, and leading the faithfu
animal, stepped fearlessly out on to th
muskeg. As she trod the rotten crust sh
ook a zigzag direction from one side ohe secret path to the other. That which, in
early spring, had scarcely been six feet i
width, would now have borne te
horsemen abreast. Presently she turneback. "We need go no further, Bill; wha
s safe here continues safe across the keg
t will widen in places, but in no plac
will the path grow narrower."
"But tell me," said the man, anxious t
assure himself that no detail wa
forgotten, "what about the trail of ou
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footprints?"
The girl laughed. Then indenting th
ground with her shapely boot until thmoisture below oozed into the imprint, sh
ooked up into the lazy face before her.
"See—we wait for one minute, and yo
shall see the result."
They waited in silence in the growin
darkness. The night insects an
mosquitoes buzzed around them. Th
man's attention was riveted upon th
mpression made by the girl's foot. Slowl
he water filled the print, then slowly
under the moist influence, the ground
sponge-like, rose again, the wate
disappeared, and all sign of the footmar
was gone.
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When again the ground had resumed it
natural appearance the girl looked up.
"Are you satisfied, Bill? No man or beaswho passes over this path leaves a trai
which lasts longer than a minute. Even th
rank grass, however badly trodden down
rears itself again with amazing vitality. guess this place was created through th
devil's agency and for the purpose o
devil's work."
Bill gave one sweeping glance around
Then he turned, and the two made thei
way back to the edge of the sucking mire.
"Yes, it'll do, dear. Now let us hasten
home."
They remounted their horses and wer
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soon lost in the gathering darkness as the
made their way over the brow of the risin
ground, in the direction of the settlement.
The next day saw the possession of th
Hon. Bunning-Ford's ranch pass into othe
hands. Punctually at noon, the sale began
And by four o'clock the process, whicrobbed the rancher of everything that h
possessed in the world, was completed.
Bill stationed himself on the veranda ansmoked incessantly while the sal
proceeded. He was there to see how th
hings went, and, in fact, seemed to take a
outsider's interest only. He experienced nmorbid sentiment at the loss of hi
property—it is doubtful if he cared at all
Anyhow, his leisurely attitude and hi
appearance of good-natured indifferenc
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caused many surprised remarks amongs
he motley collection of bidders who wer
present. In spite of these appearances
however, he did take a very keen interestA representative of Lablache's was ther
o purchase stock, and Bill knew it, an
his interest was centered on this would-b
purchaser.
The stock was the last thing to come unde
he hammer. There were twenty lots. O
hese Lablache's representative purchasefifteen—three-quarters of the stock of th
entire ranch.
Bill waited only for this, then, as the salclosed, he leisurely rolled and lit anothe
cigarette and strolled to where a horse
which he had borrowed from th
Allandales stable, was tied, and rod
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slowly away.
As he rode away he turned his head in th
direction of the house upon the hill. Hwas leaving for good and all the plac
which had so long claimed him as master
He saw the small gathering of people stil
hanging about the veranda, upon which thauctioneer still stood with his clerk, bus
over the sales. He noticed others passin
hither and thither, as they prepared to
depart with their purchases. But none ohese things which he looked upo
affected him in any mawkish, sentimenta
manner. It was all over. That little hill
with its wooded background and vasfrontage of prairie, from which he ha
oved to watch the sun get up after it
nightly sojourn, would know him no more
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His indifference was unassumed. His wa
not the nature to regret past follies.
He smiled softly as he turned his attentioo the future which lay before him, and hi
smile was not in keeping with th
expression of a broken man.
n these last days of waning prosperit
Bunning-Ford had noticeably changed
With loss of property he had lost much o
hat curious veneer of indolence, uttedisregard of consequences, which ha
always been his. Not, that he had suddenl
developed a violent activity or boisterou
enthusiasm. Simply his interest in thingand persons seemed to have received
fillip. There seemed to be an air of laten
activity about him; a setness of purpos
which must have been patent to any on
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sufficiently interested to observe th
young rancher closely. But Foss Rive
was too sleepy—indifferent—to worr
tself about anybody, except those in itranks who were riding the high horse o
success. Those who fell out by th
wayside were far too numerous to hav
more than a passing thought devoted them. So this subtle change in the man wa
allowed to pass without comment by an
except, perhaps, the money-lender
Lablache, and the shrewd, kindly wife o
he doctor—people not much given t
gossip.
t was only since the discovery oLablache's perfidy that "Lord" Bill ha
understood what living meant. Hi
discovery in Smith's saloon had roused i
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him a very human manhood. Since tha
ime he had been seized with a menta
activity, a craving for action he had never
n all his lazy life, before experiencedThis sudden change had been aggravate
by Lablache's subsequent conduct, and th
flame had been fanned by the right tha
Jacky had given him to protect her. Thsensation was one of absorbin
excitement, and the loss of property sa
ightly upon him in consequence. Mone
he had not—property he had not. But h
had now what he had never possesse
before—he had an object.
A lasting, implacable vengeance was hisfrom the contemplation of which he drew
a satisfaction which no possession o
property could have given him. Natur
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had, with incorrigible perversity, cut hi
out for a life of ease, whilst endowing hi
with a character capable of very grea
hings. Now, in her waywardness she hadaroused that character and overthrown th
hindering superficialty in which she ha
clothed it. And further to mark her freakis
mood, these same capabilities whicmight easily, under other circumstances
have led him into the fore-front of life'
battle, she directed, with inexorabl
cruelty, into an adverse course. He had
been cheated, robbed, and his soul thirste
for revenge. Lablache had robbed th
uncle of the girl he loved, and, worse thaall, the wretch had tried to oust him fro
he affections of the girl herself. Yes, he
hirsted for revenge as might any travele
n a desert crave for water. His eyes, no
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onger sleepy, gleamed as he thought. Hi
ong, square jaws seemed welded into on
as he thought of his wrongs. His was th
vengeance which, if necessary, would lashis lifetime. At least, whilst Lablach
ived no quarter would he give or accept.
Something of this he was thinking as hook his farewell of the ranch on the hill
and struck out in the direction of the half
breed camp situated in a hollow som
distance outside the settlement of FosRiver.
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CHAPTER XIII - THE
FIRST CHECK
The afterglow of sunset slowly faded ou
of the western sky. And the hush of thenight was over all. The feeling of an awfu
solitude, which comes to those whos
business is to pass the night on the ope
prairie, is enhanced rather than reduced b
he buzz of insect life upon the night air
The steady hum of the mosquito—the nigh
song of the grasshoppers and frogs—thicking, spasmodic call of the invisibl
beetles—all these things help to intensif
he loneliness and magnitude of the wil
surroundings. Nor does the smolderin
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camp-fire lessen the loneliness. Its ver
ight deepens the surrounding dark, and it
only use, after the evening meal is cooked
s merely to dispel the savage attack of thvoracious mosquito and put the fear o
man into the hearts of the prairi
scavenger, the coyote, whose dismal how
awakens the echoes of the night apainfully certain intervals, and ofte
drives sleep from the eyes of the wear
raveler.
t is rare that the "cow-hand" pitches hi
camp amongst hills, or in th
neighborhood of any bushy growth. Th
former he shuns from a natural dislike foa limited view. The latter, especially i
he bush takes the form of pine woods, i
bad for many reasons, chief amongs
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which is the fact of its being the harborag
of the savage, gigantic timber wolf—
creature as naturally truculent as the far
famed grizzly, the denizen of the towerinRockies.
Upon a high level of the prairie, ou
owards the upper reaches of the RainRiver, a tributary of the broad, swift
flowing Foss River, and some fiftee
miles from the settlement, two men wer
ounging, curled leisurely round thsmoldering remains of a camp fire. Som
distance away the occasional lowing of
cow betrayed the presence of a band o
cattle.
The men were wide awake and smoking
Whether they refrained from sleep throug
necessity or inclination matters little
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Probably the hungry attacks of the newly
hatched mosquito were responsible fo
heir wakefulness. Each man was wrappe
n a single brown blanket, and foldesaddle-cloth answered as a pillow, and i
was noticeable that they were stretche
out well to leeward of the fire, so that th
smoke passed across them, driving away few of the less audacious "skitters."
"We'll get 'em in by dinner to-morrow,
said one of the sleepless men thoughtfullyHis remark was more in the tone o
soliloquy than addressed to the other
Then louder, and in a manner whic
mplied resentment, "Them all-fireskitters is givin' me a twistin'."
"Smoke up, pard," came a muffle
rejoinder from the region of the othe
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blanket "Maybe your hide's a bit tende
yet. I 'lows skitters 'most allus goes fu
young 'uns. Guess I'm all right."
"Dessay you are," replied the firs
speaker, sharply. "I ain't been long in the
country—leastways, not on the prairie, an
ike as not I ain't dropped into the ways ohings. I've allus heerd as washin' i
mighty bad when skitters is around. The
doesn't worry you any."
He pulled heavily at his pipe until his fac
was enveloped in a fog of smoke. Hi
companion's tone of patronage had nettle
him. The old hand moved restlessly budid not answer. It is doubtful if the other'
sarcasm had been observed. It wa
scarcely broad enough to penetrate th
oughened hide of the older hand'
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susceptibilities.
The silence was broken by a man's voic
n the distance. The sound of an olfamiliar melody, chanted in a manly and
not unmusical voice, reached the fireside
t was the voice of the man who was o
watch round the band of cattle, and he waendeavoring to lull them into quiescence
The human voice, in the stillness of th
night, has a somnolent effect upon cattle
and even mosquitoes, unless they are verhick, fail to counteract the effect. Th
older hand stirred. Then he sat up an
methodically replenished the fire, kickin
he dying embers together until they blazeafresh.
"Jim Bowley do sing mighty sweet," h
said, in disparaging tones. "Like a craz
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buzz-saw, I guess. S'pose them beasties i
gettin' kind o' restless. Say, Nat, how goe
he time? It must be night on ter you
spell."
at sat up and drew out a great silve
watch.
"Haf an hour yet, pard." Then h
proceeded to re-fill his pipe, cutting grea
flakes of black tobacco from a large plu
with his sheath knife. Suddenly he pausen the operation and listened. "Say, Jake
what's that?"
"What's what?" replied Jake, roughly
preparing to lie down again.
"Listen!"
The two men bent their keen, prairie
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rained ears to windward. They listene
ntently. The night was very black—as ye
he moon had not risen. Jake used his eye
as well as ears. On the prairie, as well aelsewhere, eyes have a lot to do wit
hearing. He sought to penetrate th
darkness around him, but his efforts wer
unavailing. He could hear no sound but thvoice of Jim Bowley and the stead
plodding of his horse's feet as h
ceaselessly circled the band of somnolen
cattle. The sky was cloudy, and only her
and there a few stars gleamed diamond
ike in the heavens, but threw insufficien
ight to aid the eyes which sought tpenetrate the surrounding gloom. The ol
hand threw himself back on his pillow i
skeptical irritation.
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"Thar ain't nothin', young 'un," he sai
disdainfully. "The beasties is quiet, and
Jim Bowley ain't no tenderfoot. Say, the
skitters 'as rattled yer. Guess you 'eardsome prowlin' coyote. They allus com
around whar ther's a tenderfoot."
Jake curled himself up again and chuckleat his own sneering pleasantry.
"Coyote yerself, Jake Bond," retorted Nat
angrily. "Them lugs o' yours is gettin' oldGuess yer drums is saggin'. You're mighty
smart, I don't think."
The youngster got on to his feet an
walked to where the men's two horse
were picketed. Both horses were standin
with ears cocked and their heads held hig
n the direction of the mountains. Thei
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attitude was the acme of alertness. As th
man came up they turned towards him an
whinnied as if in relief at the knowledg
of his presence. But almost instantlurned again to gaze far out into the night
Wonderful indeed is a horse's instinct, bu
even more wonderful is the keenness o
his sight and hearing.
at patted his broncho on the neck, an
hen stood beside him watching—
istening. Was it fancy, or was it fact? Thefaintest sound of a horse gallopin
reached him; at least, he thought so.
He returned to the fire sullenlantagonistic. He did not return to hi
blanket, but sat silently smoking an
hinking. He hated the constant referenc
o his inexperience on the prairie. If eve
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he did hear a horse galloping in th
distance it didn't matter. But it was hi
ears that had first caught the sound in spit
of his inexperience. His companiopigheadedly derided the fact because hi
own ears were not sufficiently keen t
have detected the sound himself.
Thus he sat for a few minutes gazing int
he fire. Jake was now snoring loudly, and
at was glad to be relieved from the tone
of his sneering voice. Presently he rossoftly from his seat, and taking his saddl
blanket, saddled and bridled his horse
Then he mounted and silently rode of
owards the herd. It was his relief on thcattle guard.
Jim Bowley welcomed him with th
genial heartiness of a man who knows tha
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he has finished his vigil and that he ca
now lie down to rest. The guarding of
arge herd at night is always an anxiou
ime. Cattle are strange things to handle. Astampede will often involve a week'
weary scouring of the prairie.
Just as Jim Bowley was about to ride upo the camp, Nat fired a question which h
had been some time meditating.
"Guess you didn't hear a horse gallopinest now, pard?" he asked quietly.
"Why cert, boy," the other answered
quickly, "only a deaf mule could 'a
missed it. Some one passed right under th
ridge thar, away to the southwest. Gues
hey wer' travelin' mighty fast too. Why?"
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"Oh, nothin', Jim, on'y I guess Jake Bond'
hat same deaf mule you spoke of. He's to
fond of gettin' at youngsters, the old fossi
told 'im as I 'card suthin', an' 'e told mas I was a tenderfoot and didn't know wo
was gassin' about."
"Jake's a cantankerous cuss, boy. Let 'igas; 'e don't cut any figger anyway. Say
you keep yer eye peeled on some o' th
young heifers on the far side o' the bunch
They're rustlin' some. They keep mouchinafter new grass. When the moon gits u
you'll see better. S'long, mate."
Jim rode away towards the camp fire, anyoung Nat proceeded to circle round th
great herd of cattle. It was a mighty bunc
for three men to handle. But Lablache, it
owner, was never one to underwork hi
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men. This was the herd which he ha
purchased at the sale of Bunning-Ford'
ranch. And they were now being taken to
his own ranch, some distance to the soutof the settlement, for the purpose of re
branding with his own marks.
As young Nat entered upon his vigil thgolden arc of the rising moon broke th
sky-line of the horizon. Already the cloud
were fast clearing, being slowly drive
before the yellow glory of the orb of nighSoon the prairie would be bathed in th
effulgent, silvery light which renders th
western night so delicious when the moo
s at its full.
As the cowboy circled the herd, the moon
at first directly to his left, slowly droppe
behind until its, as yet, dull light shone ful
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upon his back. The beasts were quite quie
and the sense of responsibility which wa
his, in a measure, lessened.
Some distance ahead, and near by where
he must pass, a clump of undergrowth an
a few stunted trees grew round the base o
a hillock and broken rocks. The cattlwere reposing close up by this shelter
at's horse, as he drew near to the brush
was ambling along at that peculiar gait
half walk, half trot, essentially the pace oa "cow-horse." Suddenly the animal cam
o a stand, for which there seemed n
apparent reason. He stood for a secon
with ears cocked, sniffing at the night ain evident alarm. Then a prolonged, low
whistle split the air. The sound came fro
he other side of the rocks, and, to th
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enderfoot's ears, constituted a signal.
The most natural thing for him to hav
done would have been to wait for furthedevelopments, if developments there wer
o be. However, he was a pluck
youngster, in spite of his inexperience
and, besides, something of the derision oJake Bond was still rankling in his mind
He knew the whistle to be the effort o
some man, and his discovery of th
ndividual would further prove thaccuracy of his hearing, and he would the
have the laugh of his companion. A more
experienced hand would have first looke
o his six-shooter and thought of cattlhieves, but, as Jake had said, he was
enderfoot. Instead, without a moment'
hesitation, he dashed his spurs into hi
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broncho's flanks and swept round to th
shadowed side of the rocks.
He realized his folly when too late. Thmoment he entered the shade there cam
he slithering whirr of something cuttin
hrough the air. Something struck th
horse's front legs, and the next moment hshot out of the saddle in response to
somersault which the broncho turned. Hi
horse had been roped by one of his fron
egs. The cowboy lay where he fell, dazeand half stunned. Then he became awar
of three dark faces bending over him. A
nstant later a gag was forced into hi
mouth, and he felt himself being bounhand and foot. Then the three faces silentl
disappeared, and all was quiet about him.
n the meantime, on the rising ground
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where the camp fire burned, all was cal
slumber. The two old hands were takin
heir rest with healthy contentment an
noisy assertion. The glory of the risinmoon was lost to the slumberers, and n
dread of coming disaster disturbed them
The stertorous blasts of their nostril
estified to this. The replenished firslowly died down to a mass of whit
smoldering ashes, and the chill-growin
air caused one of the sleepers to mov
restlessly in his sleep and draw his hea
down beneath his blanket for greate
warmth.
Up the slope came three figures. Thewere moving with cautious, stealthy step
he movement of men whose purpose i
not open. On they came swiftly—silently
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One man led; he was tall and swarthy wit
ong black hair falling upon his shoulder
n straight, coarse mass. He was evidentl
a half-breed, and his clothes denoted hio be of the poorer class—a clas
accustomed to live by preying upon it
white neighbors. He was clad in a pair o
moleskin trousers, which doubtless at onime had been white, but which now wer
of that nondescript hue which dir
conveys. His upper garments were
beaded buckskin shirt and a battere
Stetson hat. Around his waist was
cartridge belt, on which was slung
holster containing a heavy six-chambererevolver and a long sheath knife.
His companions were similarly equipped
and the three formed a wild picture o
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desperate resolve. Yard by yard they
drew toward the sleepers, at each step
istening for the loud indications of slee
which were made only too apparent upohe still night air. Now they were clos
upon the fire. One of the unconsciou
cow-boys, Jim Bowley, stirred. A momen
passed. Then the intruders drew a stenearer. Suddenly Jim roused and then sa
up. His action at once became a signa
There was a sound of swift footsteps, an
he next instant the astonished man wa
gazing into the muzzle of a heavy pistol.
"Hands up!" cried the voice of the leadin
half-breed. One of his followers hasimilarly covered the half-awakened Jake
Without a word of remonstrance two pair
of hands went up. Astonishment had fo
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he moment paralyzed speech on the par
of the rudely awakened sleepers. The
were only dimly conscious of thei
assailants. The compelling rings of metahat confronted them weighed the balanc
of their judgment, and their response wa
he instinctive response of the prairie
Whoever their assailants, they had got thdrop on them. The result was the law o
necessity.
n depressing silence the assailants drewheir captives' weapons. Then, afte
binding their arms, the leader bade the
rise. His voice was harsh and his accen
"South-western" American. Then hordered them to march, the inexorabl
pistol ever present to enforce obedience
n silence the two men were conducted t
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he bush where the first capture had bee
made. And here they were firmly tied to
separate trees with their own lariats.
"See hyar," said the tall half-breed, as th
captives' feet were bound securely
"There ain't goin' to be no shootin'. You're
hat sensible. You're jest goin' to remainright hyar till daylight, or mebbe later. A
gag'll prevent your gassin'. You're right in
he track of white men, so I guess you'l
do. See hyar, bo', jest shut it," as JiBowley essayed to speak, "cause m
barker's itchin' to join in a conversation."
The threat had a quieting effect upon pooJim, who immediately closed his lips
Silent but watchful he eyed the half
breed's face. There was something ver
familiar about the thin cheeks, high cheek
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bones, and about the great hooked nose
He was struggling hard to locate the man
At this moment the third ruffia
approached with three horses. The othehad been busy fixing a gag in Jake Bond'
mouth. Jim Bowley saw the horses com
up. And, in the now brilliant moonlight, h
beheld and recognized a grand-lookingolden chestnut. There was no mistakin
hat glorious beast. Jim was no tenderfoot
he had been on the prairie in this distric
for years. And although he had never com
nto actual contact with the man, he ha
seen him and knew about the exploits o
he owner of that perfect animal.The half-breed approached him with a
mprovised gag. For the life of him Ji
could not resist a temptation which at tha
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moment assailed him. The threatenin
attitude of his captor for the instant ha
ost its effect. If he died for it he mus
blurt out his almost superstitiouastonishment.
The half-breed seized his prisoner's lowe
aw in his hand and compressed thcheeks upon the teeth. Jim's lips parted
and a horrified amazement found vent i
words.
"Holy Gawd! man. But be ye flesh o
sperrit? Peter Retief—as I'm a livin'—"
He said no more, for, with a wrench, th
gag was forced into his mouth by th
relentless hand of the man before him
Although he was thus silenced his eye
remained wide open and staring. The dar
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stern face, as he saw it, was magnifie
nto that of a fiend. The keen eyes an
depressed brows, he thought, might belon
o some devil re-incarnated, whilst theagle-beaked nose and thin-compresse
ips denoted, to his distorted fancy,
sanguinary cruelty. At the mention of hi
name this forbidding apparition flashed vengeful look at the speaker, and a hal
smile of utter disdain flickered unnotice
around the corners of his mouth.
Once his prisoners were secured the dark
visaged cattle-thief turned to the horses
At a word the trio mounted. Then the
rode off, and the wretched captivebeheld, to their unspeakable dismay, th
consummate skill with which the cattl
were roused and driven off. Away they
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went with reckless precipitance, the cattl
obeying the master hand of the celebrate
raider with an implicitness which seeme
o indicate a strange sympathy betweeman and beast. The great golden chestnu
raced backwards and forwards like som
well-trained greyhound, heading th
eading beasts into the desired directiowithout effort or apparent guidance. It wa
a grand display of the cowboy's art, and
n spite of his predicament and the crue
ightness of his bonds, Jim Bowle
reveled in the sight of such a display.
n five minutes the great herd was out o
sight, and only the distant rumble of theispeeding hoofs reached the captives
Later, the moon, no longer golden, bu
shedding a silvery radiance over all
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shone down upon a peaceful plain. Th
night hum of insects was undisturbed. Th
mournful cry of the coyote echoed a
ntervals, but near by, where the camp firno longer put the fear of man into th
hearts of the scavengers of the prairie, al
was still and calm. The prisoners moane
softly, but not loud enough to disturb thpeace of the perfect night, as their crue
bonds gnawed at their patience. For th
rest, the Western world had resumed it
wonted air.
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CHAPTER XIV - THE
HUE AND CRY
"A thousand head of cattle, John! A
housand; and 'hustled' from under ouvery noses. By thunder! it is intolerable
Over thirty-five thousand dollars gone i
one clean sweep. Why, I say, do we pay
for the up-keep of the police if this sort o
hing is allowed to go on? It i
disgraceful. It means ruination to th
country if a man cannot run his stocwithout fear of molestation. Who said tha
scoundrel Retief was dead—drowned i
he great muskeg? It's all poppy-cock,
ell you; the man's as much alive as you o
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. Thirty-five thousand dollars! B
heavens!—it's—it's scandalous!"
Lablache leant forward heavily in hichair and rested his great arms upon Joh
Allandale's desk. "Poker" John and h
were seated in the former's office, whithe
he money-lender had come, post-haste, oreceiving the news of the daring raid o
he night before. The great man's voic
was unusually thick with rage, and hi
asthmatical breathing came in great gustas his passionate excitement grew unde
he lash of his own words. The ol
rancher gazed in stupefied amazement a
he financier. He had not as yet fullyrealized the fact with which he had jus
been acquainted in terms of such sweepin
passion. The old man's brain was none to
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clear in the mornings now. And the
suddenness of the announcement ha
shocked his faculties into a state of chaos
"Terrible—terrible," was all he was able
o murmur. Then, bracing himself, h
asked weakly, "But what are you to do?"
The weather-beaten old face was workin
nervously. The eyes, in the past keen and
direct in their glance, were bloodshot an
roubled. He looked like a man who wafast breaking up. Very different from the
night when we first met him at the Calfor
Polo Club ball. There could be no doub
as to the origin of this swift change. Thwhole atmosphere of the man spoke o
drink.
Lablache turned on him without an
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attempt to conceal the latent ferocity of hi
nature. The heavy, pouchy jowl wa
scarlet with his rage. The money-lende
had been flicked upon a very raw anender spot. Money was his god.
"What am I to do?" he retorted savagely
"What are we to do? What is all thranching world of Alberta to do? Why
fight, man. Hound this scoundrel to hi
air. Follow him—track him. Hunt hi
from bush to bush until we fall upon hiand tear him limb from limb. Are w
going to sit still while he terrorizes th
whole country? While he 'hustles' ever
head of stock from us, and—and spirits iaway? No, if we spend fortunes upon hi
capture we must not rest until he swing
from a gibbet at the end of his own lariat."
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"Yes, of course—of course," the ranche
responded, his cheek twitching weakly
"You are quite right, we must hunt thi
scoundrel down. But we know what hagone before—I mean, before he wa
supposed to have died. The man coul
never be traced. He seemed to vanish int
hin air. What do you propose?"
"Yes, but that was two years ago," said
Lablache, moodily. "Things may b
different now. A thousand head of cattledoes not vanish so easily. There is bound
o be some trace left behind. And then, th
villain has only got a short start of us.
sent a messenger over to Stormy ClouSettlement the first thing this morning. A
sergeant and four men will be sent to wor
up the case. I expect them here at an
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moment. As justices of the peace i
devolves on both of us to set an exampl
o the settlers, and we shall then receiv
hearty co-operation. You understandJohn," the money-lender went on, wit
pompous assertiveness, "although, a
present, I am the chief sufferer by thi
scoundrel's depredations, it is plainly youduty as much as mine to take this matte
up."
The first rough storm of Lablache'passion had passed. He was "yanking
himself up to the proper attitude for th
business in hand. Although he had calmed
considerably his lashless eyes gleameviciously, and his flabby face wore an
expression which boded ill for the objec
of his rage, should that unfortunate eve
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come within the range of his power.
"Poker" John was struggling hard to brin
a once keen intellect to bear upon thaffair. He had listened to the money
ender's account of the raid with an almos
doubtful understanding, the chief shock t
which was the re-appearance of thsupposed dead Retief, that prince o
"hustlers," who, two years ago, ha
errorized the neighborhood by hi
mpudent raids. At last his mind seemed toclear and he stood up. And, bendin
across the desk as though to emphasize hi
words, he showed something of the ol
spirit which had, in days gone by, madhim a successful rancher.
"I don't believe it, Lablache. This is som
damned yarn to cover the real culprit
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Why, man, Peter Retief is buried deep i
hat reeking keg, and no slapsided galoot'
goin' to pitch such a crazy notion as hi
resurrection down my throat. Retief? Why'd as lief hear that Satan himself wa
abroad duffing cattle. Bah! Where's th
hand' that's gulled you?"
Lablache eyed the old man curiously. H
was not sure that there might not be som
ruth in the rancher's forcible skepticism
For the moment the old man's wordcarried some weight, then, as h
remembered the unvarnished tale th
cowboy had told, he returned to hi
conviction. He shook his massive head.
"No one has gulled me, John. You shal
hear the story for yourself as soon as th
police arrive. You will the better be able
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o judge of the fellow's sincerity."
At this moment the sound of horses' hoof
came in through the open windowLablache glanced out on to the veranda.
"Ah, here he is, and I'm glad to see they'v
sent Sergeant Horrocks. The very man fo
he work. Good," and he rubbed his fa
hands together. "Horrocks is a grea
prairie man."
"Poker" John rose and went out to mee
he officer. Later he conducted him into
he office. Sergeant Horrocks was a ma
of medium height, slightly built, but wit
an air of cat-like agility about him. H
was very bronzed, with a sharp, rathe
han a clever face. His eyes were blac
and restless, and a thin mouth, hidde
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beneath a trim black mustache, and
perfectly-shaped aquiline nose, complete
he sum of any features which might b
called distinctive. He was a man who wahoroughly adapted to his work—wor
which needed a cool head and quick ey
rather than great mental attainments. H
was dressed in a brown canvas tunic witbrass buttons, and his riding breeche
were concealed in, a pair of well-wor
eather "chaps." A Stetson hat worn at the
exact angle on his head, with his officia
"side arms" secured round his waist
completed a very picturesque appearance
"Morning, Horrocks," said the moneyender. "This is a pretty business you'v
come down on. Left your men down in th
settlement, eh?"
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"Yes. I thought I'd come and hear the
rights of the matter straight away
According to your message you are th
chief victim of this 'duffing' business?"
"Exactly," replied Lablache, with a retur
o his tone of anger, "one thousand head o
beeves! Thirty-five thousand dollarsworth!" Then he went on more calmly
"But wait a moment, we'll send down fo
he 'hand' that brought in the news."
A servant was despatched, and a few
minutes later Jim Bowley entered. Jacky
returning from the corrals, entered at th
same time. Directly she had seen thpolice horse outside she knew what wa
happening. When she appeared Lablach
endeavored to conceal a look o
annoyance. Sergeant Horrocks raised hi
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eyebrows in surprise. He was no
accustomed to petticoats being present a
his councils. John, however, withou
motive, waived all chance of objection banticipating his guests.
"Sergeant, this is my niece, Jacky. Affair
of the prairie affect her as nearly as thedo myself. Let us hear what this man ha
o tell us."
Horrocks half bowed to the girl, touchinhe brim of his hat with a semi-militar
salute. Acquiescence to her presence wa
hus forced upon him.
Jacky looked radiant in spite of th
uncouthness of her riding attire. The fres
morning air was the tonic she loved, and
as yet, the day was too young for the tire
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shadows to have crept into her beautifu
face. Horrocks, in spite of his taci
objection, was forced to admire the sturd
young face of this child of the prairie.
Jim Bowley plunged into his story with
directness and simplicity which did no
fail to carry conviction. He told all hknew without any attempt at shieldin
himself or his companions. Horrocks an
he old rancher listened carefully to th
story. Lablache looked for discrepanciebut found none. Jacky, whilst paying ever
attention, keenly watched the face of th
money-lender. The seriousness of th
affair was reflected in all the facepresent, whilst the daring of the raid wa
acknowledged by the upraised brows an
wondering ejaculations whic
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occasionally escaped the police-office
and "Poker" John. When the narrativ
came to a close there followed a
mpressive pause. Horrocks was the firso break it.
"And how did you obtain your release?"
"A Mennonite family, which had bin
ravelin' all night, came along 'bout a
hour after daylight. They pitched camp
nigh on to a quarter mile from the blufw'ere we was tied up. Then they cam
right along to look fur kindlin'. Ther
wasn't no other bluff for half a mile bu
ours. They found us all three. Young Naad got 'is collar-bone broke. The
ustlers 'adn't lifted our 'plugs' so I jes
came right in."
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"Have you seen these Mennonites?" aske
he officer, turning sharply to the money
ender.
"Not yet," was the heavy rejoinder. "Bu
hey are coming in."
The significance of the question and th
reply nettled the cowboy.
"See hyar, mister, I ain't no coyote come
n to pitch yarns. Wot I've said is gospel
The man as 'eld us up was Peter Retief a
sure as I'm a living man. Sperrits don
walk about the prairie 'ustling cattle, an'
guess 'is 'and was an a'mighty solid one
as my jaw felt when 'e gagged me. You
ake it from me, 'e's come around agin t
make up fur lost time, an' I guess 'e's mad
a tidy haul to start with."
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"Well, we'll allow that this man is the
hustler you speak of," went on Horrocks
bending his keen eyes severely on th
unfortunate cowboy. "Now, what abouracking the cattle?"
"Guess I didn't wait fur that, but it'll b
easy 'nough."
"Ah, and you didn't recognize the ma
until you'd seen his horse?"
The officer spoke sharply, like a counse
cross-examining a witness.
"Wal, I can't say like that," said Jim
hesitating for the first time. "His lookwas familiar, I 'lows. No, withou
knowing of it I'd recognized 'im, but 'i
name didn't come along till I see tha
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beast, Golden Eagle. I 'lows a goo
prairie hand don't make no mistake ove
cattle like that. 'E may misgive a face, bu
a beastie—no, siree."
"So you base your recognition of the ma
on the identity of his horse. A doubtfu
assertion."
"Thar ain't no doubt in my mind, sergean
Ef you'll 'ave it so, I did—some."
The officer turned to the other men.
"If there's nothing more you want this ma
for, gentlemen, I have quite finished wit
him—for the present. With youpermission," pulling out his watch, "I'l
get him to take me to the er—scene o
disaster in an hour's time."
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The two men nodded and Lablach
conveyed the necessary order to the man
who then withdrew.
As soon as Bowley had left the room thre
pairs of eyes were turned inquiringly upo
he officer.
"Well?" questioned Lablache, with some
show of eagerness.
Horrocks shrugged a pair of expressiv
shoulders.
"From his point of view the man speak
he truth," he replied decisively. "And," h
went on, more to himself than to thothers, "we never had any clear proof tha
he scoundrel, Retief, came to grief. Fro
what I remember things were very hot fo
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him at the time of his disappearance
Maybe the man's right. However," turnin
o the others, "I should not be surprised i
Mr. Retief has overreached himself thiime. A thousand head of cattle canno
easily be hidden, or, for that matter
disposed of. Neither can they travel fast
and as for tracking, well," with a shrug"in this case it should be child's play."
"I hope it will prove as you anticipate,
put in John Allandale, concisely. "Whayou suggest has been experienced by u
before. However, the matter, I feel sure, i
n capable hands."
The officer acknowledged the complimen
mechanically. He was thinking deeply
Lablache struggled to his feet, and
supporting his bulk with one hand restin
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upon the desk, gasped out his final word
upon the matter.
"I want you to remember, sergeant, thimatter not only affects me personally bu
also in my capacity as a justice of th
peace. To whatever reward I am able to
make in the name of H.M. Government shall add the sum of one thousand dollar
for the recovery of the cattle, and th
additional sum of one thousand dollars fo
he capture of the miscreant himself. have determined to spare no expense i
he matter of hunting this devil," wit
vindictive intensity, "down, therefore yo
can draw on me for all outlay your wormay entail. All I say is, capture him."
"I shall do my best, Mr. Lablache,
Horrocks replied simply. "And now, i
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you will permit me, I will go down to th
settlement to give a few orders to my men
Good-morning—er—Miss Allandale
good day, gentlemen. You will hear fromme to-night."
The officer left in all the pride of hi
official capacity. And possibly his pridewas not without reason, for many an
smart were the captures of evil-doers h
had made during his career as a keeper o
he peace. But we have been told tha"pride goeth before a fall." His estimatio
of a "hustler" was not an exalted one. H
was accustomed to dealing with men wh
shoot quick and straight—"bad men" ifact—and he was equally quick with th
gun, and a dead shot himself. Possibly h
was a shade quicker and a trifle mor
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deadly than the smartest "bad man
known, but now he was dealing with
man of all these necessary attainments an
whose resourcefulness and cleverneswere far greater than his own. Sergean
Horrocks had a harder road to travel tha
he anticipated.
Lablache took his departure shortl
afterwards, and "Poker" John and hi
niece were left in sole possession of th
office at the ranch.
The old man looked thoroughly wearie
with the mental effort the interview ha
entailed upon him. And Jacky, watchinghim, could not help noticing how old he
uncle looked. She had been a silen
observer in the foregoing scene, he
presence almost ignored by the othe
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actors. Now, however, that they were lef
alone, the old man turned a look o
appealing helplessness upon her. Suc
was the rancher's faith in this wildmpetuous girl that he looked for he
udgment on what had passed in that roo
with the ready faith of one who regard
her as almost infallible, where humantellect is needed. Nor was the gir
herself, slow to respond to his mut
nquiry. The swiftness of her answe
enhanced the tone of her conviction.
"Set a thief to catch a thief, Uncle John.
guess Horrocks, in spite of his shifty blac
eyes, isn't the man for the business. Hmight track the slimmest neche that eve
crossed the back of a choyeuse. Lablach
s the man Retief has to fear. Tha
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uncrowned monarch of Foss River i
subtle, and subtlety alone will serve
Horrocks?" with fine disdain. "Say, yo
can't shoot snipe with a pea-shooter."
"That's so," replied John, with wear
houghtlessness. "Do you know, child,
can't help feeling a strange satisfactiohat this Retief's victim is Lablache. Bu
here, one never knows, when such a ma
s about, who will be the next to suffer.
suppose we must take our chance and truso the protection of the police."
The girl had walked to the window an
now stood framed in the casement of iShe turned her face back towards the ol
man as he finished speaking, and a quie
ittle smile hovered round the corners o
her fresh ripe lips.
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"I don't think Retief will bother us any—a
east, he never did before. Somehow
don't think he's an ordinary rascal." Sh
urned back to the window. "Hulloa, guess Bill's coming right along up th
avenue."
A moment later "Lord" Bill, lazilcheerful as was his wont, stepped i
hrough the open French window. Th
selling up of his ranch seemed to hav
made little difference to his philosophicaemperament. In his appearance, perhaps
for now he no longer wore the orthodo
dress of the rancher. He was clad in
weed lounging suit, and a pair of wellpolished, brown leather boots. Hi
headgear alone pertained to the prairie. I
was a Stetson hat. He was smoking
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cigarette as he came up, but he threw th
nsidious weed from him as he entered th
room.
"Morning, John. How are you, Jacky?
needn't ask you if you have heard th
news. I saw Sergeant Horrocks and ol
Shylock leaving your veranda. Hot lot—sn't it? And all Lablache's cattle, too."
A look of deep concern was on his kee
face. Lablache might have been hidearest friend. Jacky smiled over at him
"Poker" John looked pained.
"Guess you're right, Bill," said th
rancher. "Hot—very hot. I pity the poo
devil if Lablache lays a hand on him
Excuse me, boy, I'm going down to th
barn. We've got a couple of ponies we're
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breaking to harness."
The old man departed. The others watche
he burly figure as he passed out of thdoor. His whole personality seemed
shrunken of late. The old robustnes
seemed a thing of the past. The last tw
months seemed to have put ten years oageing upon the kindly old man. Jack
sighed as the door closed behind him, an
here was no smile in her eyes as sh
urned again to her lover. Bill's face hadbecome serious.
"Well?" in a tone of almost painfu
anxiety.
The girl had started forward and wa
eaning with her two brown hands upo
he back of a chair. Her face was pal
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beneath her tan, and her eyes were brigh
with excitement. For answer, Bunning
Ford stepped to the French window an
closed it, having first glanced up andown the veranda to see that it was empty
ot a soul was in sight. The tall pines
which lined the approach to the house
waved silently in the light breeze. Thclear sky was gloriously blue. O
everything was the peace of summer.
The man swung round and came towardhe girl. His eagle face was lit up by a
expression of triumph. He held out his tw
hands, and the girl placed her own brow
ones in them. He drew her towards hiand embraced her in silence. Then h
moved a little away from her. Hi
gleaming eyes indexed the activity of hi
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mind.
"The cattle are safe—as houses. It was
grand piece of work, dear. They wouldnever have faced the path without you
help. Say, girlie, I'm an infant at handlin
stock compared with you. Now—wha
news?"
Jacky was smiling tenderly into the stron
face of the man. She could not help bu
wonder at the reckless daring of this manwho so many set down as a lazy good-for
nothing. She knew—she had alway
known, she fancied—the strong characte
which underlay that indolent exterior. Inever appealed to her to regret the chanc
hat had driven him to use his abilities i
such a cause. There was too much of th
wild half-breed blood in her veins t
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allow her to stop to consider the might
have-beens. She gloried in his daring, an
something of the spirit which had cause
her to help her half-brother now forcefrom her an almost worshiping adoratio
for her lover.
"Horrocks is to spare no expense iracking—Retief—down." She laughe
silently. "Lablache is to pay. They are
going over the old ground again, I guess
The tracks of the cattle. Horrocks is not tbe feared. We must watch Lablache. H
will act. Horrocks will only be hi
puppet."
Bill pondered before he spoke.
"Yes," he said thoughtfully at last, "that i
he best of news. The very best. Horrock
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can track. He is one of the best at tha
game. But I have taken every precaution
Tracking is useless—waste of time."
"I know that from past experience, Bil
ow that the campaign has begun, what i
he next move?"
The girl was all eagerness. Her beautifu
dark face was no longer pale. It wa
aglow with the enthusiasm of her feelings
Her deep, meaning eyes burned with consuming brilliancy. Framed in its settin
of curling, raven hair, her face would hav
rejoiced the heart of the old masters of th
Van Dyke school. She was wondrouslybeautiful. Bill gazed upon her feature
with devouring eyes, and thoughts of th
wrongs committed by Lablache against he
and hers teemed through his brain and se
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his blood surging through his veins in
manner that threatened to overbalance hi
usual cool judgment. He forced himself t
an outward calmness, however, and thazy tones of his voice remained as eas
as ever.
"On the result of the next move much wildepend," he said. "It is to be a terrifi
coup, and will entail careful planning. It i
fortunate that the people at the half-bree
camp are the friends of—of—Retief."
"Yes, and of mine," put in the girl. Then
she added slowly, and as though with
painful thought, "Say, Bill, be—bcareful. I guess you are all I have in th
world—you and uncle. Do you know, I'v
kind of seen to the end of this racket
Maybe there's trouble coming. Who's to b
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agged I can't say. There are shadow
around, Bill; the place fairly hums wit
em. Say, don't—don't give Lablache
slant at you. I can't spare you, Bill."
The tall thin figure of her companio
stepped over towards her, and she fel
herself encircled by his long powerfuarms. Then he bent down from his grea
height and kissed her passionately upo
he lips.
"Take comfort, little girl. This is a war, i
necessary, to the death. Should anythin
happen to me, you may be sure that I leav
you freed from the snares of old ShylockYes, I will be careful, Jacky. We are
playing for a heavy stake. You may trus
me."
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CHAPTER XV -
AMONG THE HALF-
BREEDS
Lablache was not a man of variabl
moods. He was too strong; his purpose i
ife was too strong for any vacillation o
emper. His one aim—his whole soul—was wrapt in a craving for money-makin
and the inevitable power which th
accumulation of great wealth must giv
him. In all his dealings he was perfectly—at least outwardly—calm, and he neve
allowed access to anger to thwart hi
ends. An inexorable purpose governed hi
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actions to an extent which, while hi
feelings might undergo paroxysms of acut
changes, never permitted him to make
false move or to show his hanprematurely. But this latest reverse had
upset him more than he had ever bee
upset in his life, and all the great laten
force of his character had suddenly, as iwere, been precipitated into a torrent o
ungovernable fury. He had been wounded
deeply in the most vulnerable spot in hi
composition. Thirty-five thousands of hi
precious dollars ruthlessly torn from hi
capacious and retentive money-bags
Truly it was a cruel blow, and one welcalculated to disturb the even tenor of hi
complacency.
Thought was very busy within tha
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massive head as he lumped heavily alon
from John Allandale's house in th
direction of his own store. Some sligh
satisfaction was his at the reflection of thprompt assistance he had obtained fro
he police. It was the satisfaction of a ma
who lived by the assistance of the law, o
a man who, in his own inordinatarrogance, considered that the law wa
made for such as he, to the detriment o
hose who attempt to thwart the rich man'
purpose. He knew Horrocks to b
capable, and although he did not place to
much reliance on that astute prairie-man'
udgment—he always believed in his owudgment first—still, he knew that h
could not have obtained better assistance
and was therefore as content a
circumstances would permit. That he wa
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sanguine of recovering his property wa
doubtful. Lablache never permitte
himself the luxury of optimism. He se
himself a task and worked steadily on the required end. So he had decided now
He did not permit himself to dwell on th
desired result, or to anticipate. He woul
simply leave no stone unturned to brinabout the recovery of his stolen property.
He moved ponderously along over th
smooth dusty road, and at last reached thmarket-place. The settlement wa
drowsily quiet. Life of a sort wa
apparent but it was chiefly "animal." Th
usual number of dogs were moving abouor peacefully basking in the sun; a few
saddle horses were standing with dejecte
air, hitched to various tying-posts. A
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buckboard and team was standing outsid
his own door. The sound of the smith'
hammer falling upon the anvil sounde
plaintively upon the calmness of thsleepy village. In spite of the sensationa
raid of the night before, Foss Rive
displayed no unusual activity.
At length the great man reached his office
and threw himself, with great danger to hi
furniture, into his capacious wicker chair
He was in no mood for business. Insteahe gazed long and thoughtfully out of hi
office window. What somber, vengefu
houghts were teeming through his brai
would be hard to tell, his mask-like facbetrayed nothing. His sphinx-lik
expression was a blank.
n this way half an hour and more passed
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Then his attention became fixed upon
all figure sauntering slowly towards th
settlement from the direction o
Allandale's ranch. In a moment Lablachhad stirred himself, and a pair of field
glasses were leveled at the unconsciou
pedestrian. A moment later an exclamatio
of annoyance broke from the moneyender.
"Curse the man! Am I never to be rid o
his damned Englishman?" He stood nowgazing malevolently at the tall figure of th
Hon. Bunning-Ford, who was leisurel
making his way towards the village. Fo
he time being the channel of Lablache'houghts had changed its direction. He ha
hoped, in foreclosing his mortgages on th
Englishman's property, to have rid Fos
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River of the latter's, to him, hatefu
presence. But since misfortune had com
upon "Lord" Bill, the Allandales and h
had become closer friends than ever. Thieffort had been one of the money-lender'
few failures, and failure galled him with
bitterness the recollection of which n
success could eliminate. The result was greater hatred for the object of hi
vengeance, and a lasting determination t
rid Foss River of the Englishman forever
And so he remained standing and watchin
until, at length, the entrance of one of hi
clerks, to announce that the saloon dinner
ime was at hand, brought him out of hicruel reverie, and he set off in quest of th
needs of his inner man, a duty whic
nothing, of whatever importance, wa
allowed to interfere with.
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n the meantime, Horrocks, or, as he wa
better known amongst his comrades, "th
Ferret," was hot upon the trail of the los
cattle. Horrocks bristled with energy aevery point, and his men, working wit
him, had reason to be aware of the fact. I
was an old saying amongst them that whe
"the Ferret" was let loose there was nchance of bits rusting. In other words, hi
mileage report to his chiefs would be
ong one.
As the sergeant anticipated, it was child'
play to track the stolen herd. The track
eft by the fast-driven cattle was apparen
o the veriest greenhorn, and Horrocks anhis men were anything but greenhorns.
Long before evening closed in they ha
followed the footprints right down to th
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edge of the great muskeg, and alread
Horrocks anticipated a smart capture. Bu
his task seemed easier than it really was
On the brink of the keg the tracks becamconfused. With some difficulty the sleut
nstincts of these accomplished tracker
ed them to follow the marks for a mil
and a half along the edge of the mire, thent seemed, the herd had been turned an
driven with great speed back on thei
racks. But worse confusion becam
apparent; and "the Ferret" soon realize
hat the herd had been driven up and dow
along the border of the great keg with
view to evading further pursuit. Sfrequently had this been done that it wa
mpossible to further trace the stock, an
he sun was already sinking whe
Horrocks dismounted, and with him hi
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men were at last forced to acknowledg
defeat.
He had come to a standstill with a stretcof a mile and a half of cattle tracks befor
him. There was no sign further than this o
where the beasts had been driven. The ke
tself gave no clew. It was as green andrackless as ever, and again on the land
side there was not a single foot-prin
beyond the confused marks along th
quagmire's dangerous border.
The work of covering retreat had bee
carried out by a master hand, an
Horrocks was not slow to acknowledghe cleverness of the raider. With all one
good prairie man's appreciation fo
another he detected a foeman worthy o
his steel, and he warmed to the proble
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set out before him. The troopers waite
for their superior's instructions. As "th
Ferret" did not speak one of the me
commented aloud.
"Smart work, sergeant," he said quietly
"I'm not surprised that this fellow rod
roughshod over the district for so long anescaped all who were sent to nab him
He's clever, is P. Retief, Esq."
Horrocks was looking out across the greakeg. Strangely enough they had halte
within twenty yards of the willow bush, a
which point the secret path across the mir
began. The man with the gold chevronupon his arm ignored the remark of hi
companion, but answered with word
which occurred in his own train o
hought.
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"It's plain enough, I guess. Yonder is the
direction taken by the cattle," he said
nodding his head towards the distan
peaks of the mountains beyond. "But who'got the nerve to follow 'em? Say," he wen
on sharply, "somewhere along this bank,
mean in the mile and a half of hoof marks
here's a path turns out, or, at least, fir ground by which it is possible to cros
his devil's keg. It must be so. Cattle can
be spirited away. Unless, of course—bu
no, a man don't duff cattle to drown 'em i
a swamp. They've crossed this perniciou
mire, boys. We may nab our friend, Retief
but we'll never clap eyes on those beasts."It's the same old business over again
sergeant," said one of the troopers. "I wa
on this job before, and I reckon we lande
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hereabouts every time we lit on Retief'
rail. But we never got no further. Yonder
keg is a mighty hard nut to crack. I gues
he half-breed's got the bulge on us. If patacross the mire there is he knows it an
we don't, and, as you say, who's goin' to
follow him?" Having delivered himself o
hese sage remarks he stepped to the brinof the mire and put his foot heavily upo
ts surface. His top-boot sank quickl
hrough the yielding crust, and the blac
subsoil rose with oily, sucking action, 'an
his foot was immediately buried out o
sight. He drew it out sharply, a shudder o
horror quickening his action. Strong maand hardy as he was, the muskeg inspire
him with a superstitious terror. "Gues
here ain't no following them beastie
hrough that, sergeant. Leastways, not fo
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me."
Horrocks had watched his subordinate'
action thoughtfully. He knew, withoushowing, that no man or beast coul
attempt to cross the mire with any hope o
success without the knowledge of som
secret path. That such a path, or pathsexisted he believed, for many were th
stories of how criminals in past day
escaped prairie law by such means
However, he had no knowledge of ansuch paths himself, and he had no intentio
of sacrificing his life uselessly in a
attempt to discover the keg's mos
ealously guarded secret.
He turned back to his horse and prepare
o vault into the saddle.
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"It's no use, boys. We are done for to-day
You can ride back to the settlement. I have
another little matter on hand. If any of yo
see Lablache just tell him I shall join hin about two hours' time."
Horrocks rode off and his four trooper
headed towards the Foss River.
Despite the fact that his horse had bee
under the saddle for nearly eight hour
Horrocks rode at a great pace. He waone of those men who are always to b
found on the prairie—thorough horsemen
Men who, in times of leisure, care mor
for their horses than they do fohemselves; men who regard their horse
as they would a comrade, but who, whe
t becomes a necessity to work or trave
demand every effort the animal can mak
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by way of return for the care which ha
been lavished upon it. Such men generall
find themselves well repaid. A horse i
something more than a creature with fouegs, one at each corner, head out of on
end, tail out of the other. There is an old
saying in the West to the effect that a
horough horseman is worthy of man'esteem. The opinion amongst prairie me
s that a man who loves his horse ca
never be wholly bad. And possibly w
can accept this decision upon the subjec
without question, for their experience i
men, especially in "bad men," is wide an
varied.Horrocks avoided the settlement, leavin
t well to the west, and turned his willin
beast in the direction of the half-bree
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camp. There was an ex-Government scou
iving in this camp whom he knew; a ma
who was willing to sell to his lat
employers any information he chanced tpossess. It was the officer's intention t
see this man and purchase all he had t
sell, if it happened to be worth buying
Hence his visit to the camp.
The evening shadows were fas
engthening when he espied in the distanc
he squalid shacks and dilapidated teepeeof the Breeds. There was a large colony o
hose wanderers of the West gathered
ogether in the Foss River camp. We have
said that these places are hot-beds ocrime, a curse to the country; but tha
description scarcely conveys the wretche
poverty and filthiness of these motle
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gatherings. From a slight rising groun
Horrocks looked down on what migh
have, at first sight, been taken for a smal
village. A scattering of small tumbleddown shacks, about fifty in number, set ou
on the fresh green of the prairie, create
he first blot of uncleanly, uncout
habitation upon the view. Add to these aproportionate number of ragged tents an
eepees, a crowd of unwashed, and, fo
he most part, undressed children,
hundred fierce and half-starved dogs o
he "husky" type. Imagine a stench of dun
fire cooking, and the gathering of million
of mosquitoes about a few choyeuses anfat cattle grazing near by, and the pictur
as it first presents itself is complete.
The approach to such a place makes on
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almost wish the undulating prairie was no
quite so fair a picture, for the contras
with man's filthy squalor is so great tha
he feeling of nauseation which results ialmost overpowering. Horrocks, however
was used to such scenes. His duty ofte
ook him into worse Breed camps tha
his. He treated such places to a perfectlcallous indifference, and regarded the
merely as necessary evils.
At the first shack he drew up and instantlbecame the center of attention from a pac
of yelping dogs and a number of half
fearful, wide-eyed ragamuffins, grim
children nearly naked and ranging in agfrom two years up to twelve. Young as the
atter were they were an evil-lookin
collection. The noisy greeting of the cam
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dogs had aroused the elders from thei
ndolent repose within the shacks, an
Horrocks quickly became aware of
furtive spying within the darkenedoorways and paneless windows.
The reception was nothing unusual to th
officer. The Breeds he knew alwayfought shy of the police. As a rule, such
visit as the present portended an arrest
and they were never quite sure who th
victim was to be and the possiblconsequences. Crime was so commo
amongst these people that in nearly ever
family it was possible to find one or mor
aw-breakers and, more often than not, thdelinquent was liable to capita
punishment.
gnoring his cool reception, Horrock
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hitched his horse to a tree and stepped up
o the shack, regardless of the viciou
snapping of the dogs. The children fle
precipitately at his approach. At the dooof the house he halted.
"Hallo there, within!" he called.
There was a moment's pause, and he hear
a whispered debate going on in th
shadowy interior.
"Hey!" he called again. "Get a hustle on
some of you. Get out," he snapped sharply
as a great husky, with bristling hair, came
snuffing at his legs. He aimed a kick at th
dog, which, in response, sullenly retreate
o a safe distance.
The angry tone of his second summons ha
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ts effect, and a figure moved cautiousl
within and finally approached the door.
"Eh! what is it?" asked a deep, gutturavoice, and a bulky form framed itself i
he opening.
The police-officer eyed the man keenly
The twilight had so far deepened that ther
was barely sufficient light to distinguis
he man's features, but Horrocks's surve
satisfied him as to the fellow's identityHe was a repulsive specimen of th
Breed; the dark, lowering face ha
something utterly cruel in its expression
The cast was brutal in the extremesensual, criminal. The shifty black eye
ooked anywhere but into the policeman'
face.
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"That you, Gustave?" said Horrocks
pleasantly enough. He wished to inspir
confidence. "I'm looking for Gautier. I'v
got a nice little job for him. Do you knowwhere he is?"
"Ugh!" grunted Gustave, heavily, but wit
a decided air of relief. He entertained wholesome dread of Sergeant Horrocks
ow he became more communicative
Horrocks had not come to arrest anybody
"I see," he went on, gazing out across thprairie, "this is not a warrant business
eh? Guess Gautier is back there," with
erk of a thumb in a vague directio
behind him. "He's in his shack. Gautier'ust hooked up with another squaw."
"Another?" Horrocks whistled softly
"Why, that's the sixth to my knowledge
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He's very much a marrying man. How
much did he pay the neche this time?"
"Two steers and a sheep," said the manwith an oily grin.
"Ah! I wonder how he acquired 'em. Well
'll go and find him. Gautier is smart, bu
he'll land himself in the penitentiary if h
goes on marrying squaws at that price
Say, which is his shack did you say?"
"Back thar. You'll see it. He's just limed
he outside of it. Guess white's the colo
his new squaw fancies most. S'long."
The man was glad to be rid of his visitorn spite of the sergeant's assurance
Gustave never felt comfortable in th
officer's presence. Horrocks moved off i
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search of the white hut, while the Breed
with furtive eyes, watched his progress.
There was no difficulty in locating thshack in that colony of grime. Even in th
darkness the gleaming white of the ex
spy's abode stood out prominently. Th
dogs and children now tacitlacknowledged the right of the police
officer's presence in their camp, an
allowed him to move about apparentl
unnoticed. He wound his way amongst thhuts and tents, ever watchful and alert
always aiming for Gautier's hut. He knew
hat in this place at night his life was no
worth much. A quick aim, and a shot frombehind, and no one would ever know wh
had dropped him. But the Canadian polic
are accustomed to take desperate chance
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n their work, and think less of it than d
our police patrols in the slums of London.
He found Gautier sitting at his hut doowaiting for him. Another might have bee
surprised at the Breed's cognizance of th
police-officer's intentions, but Horrock
knew the habits of these people, and wafully alive to the fact that while he ha
been talking to Gustave a messenger wa
dispatched to warn Gautier that he wa
sought.
"Well, sergeant, what's your best news?
Gautier asked civilly. He was a bright
ntelligent-looking, dusky man, of perhapforty years. His face was less brutal tha
hat of the other Breed, but it was none th
ess cunning. He was short and massivel
built.
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"That's just what I've come to ask you
Gautier. I think you can tell me all I wan
o know—if you've a notion to. Say," wit
a keen look round, "can we talk here?"
There was not a soul visible but a
occasional playing child. It was curiou
how quiet the camp became. Horrockwas not deceived, however. He knew tha
a hundred pairs of eyes were watchin
him from the reeking recesses of the huts.
"No talk here." Gautier was serious, an
his words conveyed a lot. "It's ba
medicine your coming to-night. But there,
with a return to his cunning look, "I donknow that I've got anything to tell."
Horrocks laughed softly.
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"Yes—yes, I know. You needn't be
afraid." Then lowering his voice: "I've go
a roll of bills in my pocket."
"Ah, then don't stay here talking. There'
ots to tell, but they'd kill me if the
suspected. Where can I see you—quiet
ike? They won't lose sight of me if thecan help it, but I reckon I'm good for th
best of 'em."
The man's attempt to look sincere waalmost ludicrous. His cunning eye
winkled with cupidity. Horrocks kept hi
voice down.
"Right. I shall be at Lablache's store in a
hour's time. You must see me to-night.
Then aloud, for the benefit of listenin
ears, "You be careful what you are doing
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This promiscuous buying of wives, wit
cattle which you may have difficulty i
accounting for your possession of, wil
ead you into trouble. Mind, I've warneyou. Just look to it."
His last sentences were called out as h
moved away, and Gautier quitunderstood.
Horrocks did not return the way he ha
come, but took a circuitous route throughe camp. He was a man who never lost
chance in his work, and now, while h
was in the midst of that criminal haunt, h
hought it as well to take a look round. Hhardly knew what he expected to find ou
—if anything. But he required informatio
of Retief, and he was fully alive to the fac
hat all that individual's movements woul
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be known here. He trusted to luck to hel
him to discover something.
The smartest of men have to work againsoverwhelming odds in the detection o
crime. Many and devious are the ways o
men whose hand is against the law. Surely
s the best detective a mere babe in thhands of a clever criminal. In this instanc
he very thing that Horrocks was in searc
of was about to be forced upon him. Fo
underlying that information was a deepaid scheme.
ever can reliance be placed in a tru
half-breed. The heathen Chinee is thdeal of truth and honesty when his wile
are compared with the dark ways of th
Breed. Horrocks, with all his experience
was no match for the dusky-visage
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outcast of the plains. Gautier had bee
deputied to convey certain information t
Lablache by the patriarchs of the camp
And with his native cunning he hadecided, on the appearance of Sergean
Horrocks, to extort a price for that whic
t was his duty to tell. Besides this, a
matters had turned out, Horrocks was treceive gratis that for which he woul
shortly pay Gautier.
He had made an almost complete circuiof the camp. Accustomed as he was to
such places, the stench of it almost mad
him sick. He came to a stand close besid
one of the outlying teepees. He was juspreparing to fill his pipe and indulge in
sort of disinfecting smoke when h
became aware of voices talking loudl
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close by. The sound proceeded from th
eepees. From force of habit he listened
The tones were gruff, and almost Indian
ike in the brevity of expression. Thanguage was the bastard jargon of th
French half-breed. For a moment he wa
doubtful. Then his attention becam
riveted.
"Yes," said one voice, "he is a good man
s Peter. When he has plenty he spends it
He does not rob the poor Breed. Only thgross white man. Peter is clever. Very."
Then another voice, deep-toned and ful
ook up the eulogy.
"Peter knows how to spend his money. H
spends it among his friends. It is good
How much whisky will he buy, thin
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you?"
Another voice chipped in at this point, an
Horrocks strained his ears to catch thwords, for the voice was the voice of
female and her utterance was indistinct.
"He said he would pay for everything—al
we could eat and drink—and that th
pusky should be held the night after to
morrow. He will come himself and danc
he Red River jig. Peter is a great danceand will dance all others down."
Then the first speaker laughed.
"Peter must have a long stocking if hwould pay for all. A barrel of rye would
not go far, and as for food, he must brin
several of the steers which he took fro
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old Lablache if he would feed us. Bu
Peter is always as good as his word. H
said he would pay. And he will pay. Whe
does he come to prepare?"
"He does not come. He has left the mone
with Baptiste, who will see to everything
Peter will not give 'the Ferret' a chance."
"But how? The dance will be a danger t
him," said the woman's voice. "What i
the Ferret' hears?"
"He will not hear, and, besides, Peter wil
be prepared if the damned police come
Have no fear for Peter. He is bold."
The voices ceased and Horrocks waited
ittle longer. But presently, when the
voices again became audible, the subjec
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of conversation had changed, and h
realized that he was not likely to hea
more that would help him. So, with grea
caution, he stole quickly away to wherhis horse was tied. He mounted hastil
and rode off, glad to be away from tha
reeking camp, and greatly elated with th
success of the visit.
He had learned a lot. And he was to hea
more yet from Gautier. He felt that th
renowned "hustler" was already in hiclutches. His spurs went sharply into hi
broncho's flanks and he raced over th
prairie towards the settlement. Possibly h
should have known better than to trust the overhearing of that conversation. Hi
knowledge of the Breeds should hav
warned him to put little faith in what h
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had heard. But he was eager. Hi
reputation was largely at stake over thi
affair, and that must be the excuse for th
rashness of his faith. However, the penaltof his folly was to be his, therefore blam
can well be spared.
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CHAPTER XVI -
GAUTIER CAUSES
DISSENSION
"Sit down and let me hear the—worst."
Lablache's voice rasped harshly as h
delivered his mandate. Horrocks had jusarrived at the money-lender's store afte
his visit to the half-breed camp. Th
police-officer looked weary. And the
dejected expression on his face had drawfrom his companion the hesitatin
superlative.
"Have you got anything to eat?" Horrock
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retorted quickly, ignoring the other'
commands. "I am famished. Had nothin
since I set out from Stormy Cloud. I can
alk on an empty stomach."
Lablache struck a table bell sharply, and
one of his clerks, all of whom were stil
working in the store, entered. The moneyender's clerks always worked early an
ate. It was part of the great man's creed t
sweat his employees.
"Just go over to the saloon, Markham, an
ell them to send supper for one—
something substantial," he called out afte
he man, who hastened to obey with thcustomary precipitance of all who serve
he flinty financier.
The man disappeared in a twinkling an
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Lablache turned to his visitor again.
"They'll send it over at once. There's som
whisky in that bottle," pointing to a smalcabinet, through the glass door of whic
gleamed the white label of "specia
Glenlivet." "Help yourself. It'll buck yo
up."
Horrocks obeyed with alacrity, and th
genial spirit considerably refreshed him
He then reseated himself opposite to hihost, who had faced round from his desk.
"My news is not the—worst, as you see
o anticipate; although, perhaps, it migh
have been better," the officer began. "In
fact, I am fairly well pleased with th
result of my day's work."
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"Which means, I take it, that you hav
discovered a clew."
Lablache's heavy eyes gleamed."Rather more than a clew," Horrocks wen
on reflectively. "My information relate
more to the man than to the beasts. We
shall, I think, lay our hands on this—
Retief."
"Good—good," murmured the money
ender, inclining his heavy jowled head
"Find the man and we shall recover th
cattle."
"I am not so sure of that," put in the other"However, we shall see."
Lablache looked slightly disappointed
The capture of Retief seemed to hi
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synonymous with the recovery of hi
stock. However, he waited for his visito
o proceed. The money-lender wa
essentially a man to draw his owconclusions after hearing the facts, and n
opinion of another was likely to influenc
him when once those conclusions wer
arrived at. Lablache was a strong mamentally and physically. And few cared to
combat his decisions or opinions.
For a moment further talk was interrupteby the entry of a man with Horrocks'
supper. When the fellow had withdraw
he police-officer began his repast and th
narration of his story at the same timeLablache watched and listened with a
undisturbed concentration. He lost n
point, however small, in the facts as state
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by the officer. He refrained fro
nterruption, excepting where th
significance of certain points in the stor
escaped him, and, at the conclusion, hwas as conversant with the situation a
hough he had been present at th
nvestigation. The great man wa
profoundly impressed with what he heardot so much with the shrewdness of th
officer as with the simple significance o
he loss of further trace of the cattle at th
edge of the muskeg. Up to this point of th
story he felt assured that Horrocks was t
be perfectly relied upon, but, for the res
he was not so sure. He felt that though thiman was the finest tracker in the countr
he delicate science of deduction was no
necessarily an accompaniment to hi
prairie abilities. Therefore, for th
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moment, he concentrated his thoughts upo
he features surrounding the great keg.
"It is a curious thing," he sairetrospectively, as the policeman ceased
speaking, "that in all previous raids of thi
Retief we have invariably tracked the los
stock down to this point. Of course, as yosay, there is not the slightest doubt that th
beasts have been herded over the keg
Everything seems to me to hinge on th
discovery of that path. That is the problewhich confronts us chiefly. How are we to
find the secret of the crossing?"
"It cannot be done," said Horrocks, simplbut with decision.
"Nonsense," exclaimed the other, with
heavy gasp of breath. "Retief knows it
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and the others with him. Those cattl
could not have been herded over single
handed. Now to me it seems plain that th
crossing is a very open secret amongst thBreeds."
"And I presume you consider that w
should work chiefly on that hypothesis?"
"Exactly."
"And you do not consider the possibl
capture of Retief as being the mos
mportant feature of the case?"
"Important—certainly. But, for th
moment, of minor consideration. Once wdiscover the means by which he secrete
his stock—and the hiding-place—we ca
stop his depredations and turn all ou
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energies to his capture. You follow me?
At first I was inclined to think with yo
hat the capture of the man would be th
best thing. But now it seems to me that theasiest method of procedure will be th
discovery of that path."
The rasping tone in which Lablache spokconveyed to the other his unalterabl
conviction. The prairie man, however
remained unconvinced.
"Well," he replied, after a moment'
deliberation, "I cannot say I agree wit
you. Open secret or not, I've a notion tha
we'd stand a better chance of discoverinhe profoundest of state secrets than elici
nformation, even supposing them t
possess it, of this description from th
Breeds. I expect Gautier here in a few
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minutes; we shall hear what he has t
say."
"I trust he may have something to say."Lablache snapped his reply out in tha
peculiar tone of his which spoke volumes
t never failed to anger him to have hi
opinions gainsaid. Then his manne
changed slightly, and his mood seemed to
become contemplative. Horrock
observed the change and wondered whawas coming. The money-lender cleare
his throat and spat into the stove. Then h
spoke with that slow deliberation whic
was his when thinking deeply.
"Two years ago, when Retief did what he
iked in this part of the country, there wer
many stories going about as to hi
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relationship with a certain lady in thi
settlement."
"Miss Allandale—yes, I have heard.""Just so; some said that she—er—wa
very partial to him. Some, that they wer
distantly connected. All were of opinio
hat she knew a great deal of the man i
she only chose to tell. These stories wer
gossip—merely. These small places ar
given to gossip. But I must confess to belief that gossip is often—always, in fac
—founded on a certain amount of fact."
There was no niceness of feeling abou
his mountain of obesity in matters o
business. He spoke as callously of th
girl, for whom he entertained his unhol
passion, as he would speak of a stranger
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He experienced no compunction in linkin
her name with that of an outlaw. His gros
nature was of too low an order to hol
anything sacred where his money-bagwere affected.
"Perhaps you—er—do not know," h
pursued, carefully lighting his pipe anpressing the charred tobacco down wit
he tip of his little finger, "that this girl i
he daughter of a Breed mother?"
"Guess I hadn't a notion."
Horrocks's keen eyes flashed wit
nterest. He too lit his pipe as he lounge
back in his chair.
"She is a quarter-breed, and, moreover
he esteem in which she is held by th
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skulking inhabitants of the camp incline
me to the belief that—er—judicious—e
—handling—"
"You mean that through her we migh
obtain the information we require?"
Horrocks punctuated the other's deliberat
utterances with hasty eagerness. Lablach
permitted a vague smile about the corner
of his mouth, his eyes remained gleamin
coldly.
"You anticipate me. The matter would
need delicate handling. What Mis
Allandale has done in the past will not b
easy to find out. Granting, of course, tha
gossip has not wronged her," he went o
doubtfully. "On second thoughts, perhap
you had better leave that source o
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nformation to me."
He relapsed apparently into deep thought
His pensive deliberation was full of guileHe had a purpose to achieve whic
necessitated the suggestion which he ha
made to this representative of the law. H
wished to impress upon his companion certain connivance on the part of, at least
one member of the house of Allandal
with the doings of the raider. He merel
wished to establish a suspicion in thmind of the officer. Time and necessity
might develop it, if it suited Lablache'
schemes that such should occur. In th
meantime he knew he could direct thiman's actions as he chose.
The calm superiority of the money-lende
was not lost upon his companion
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Horrocks was nettled, and showed it.
"But you'll pardon me, Mr. Lablache. You
have offered me a source of informatiowhich, as a police-officer, it is my duty to
sound. As you yourself admit, the old
stories of a secret love affair may hav
some foundation in fact. Accept that andwhat possibilities are not opened up? Ha
been employed on the affairs of Retief
during his previous raids, I shoul
certainly have worked upon so important clew."
"Tut, tut, man," retorted the other, sharply
"I understood you to be a keen man at youbusiness. A single ill-timed move in the
direction we are discussing and the fa
will be in the fire. The girl is as smart a
paint; at the first inkling of your purpos
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she'll curl up—shut up like a rat trap. Th
Breeds will be warned and we shall b
further off success than ever. No, no, whe
t comes to handling Jacky Allandale youeave it to me—Ah!"
Lablache's ejaculation was the result o
he sudden apparition of a dark facpeering in at his window. He swung round
with lightning rapidity, and befor
Horrocks could realize what he was doin
his fat hand was grasping the butt of revolver. Then, with a grunt of annoyance
he turned back to his guest.
"That's your Breed, I take it. For thmoment I thought it was some one else; it'
always best in these parts to shoot firs
and inquire afterwards. I occasionally ge
some strange visitors."
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The policeman laughed as he went to th
door. His irritation at the money-lender'
manner was forgotten. The strangeness o
he sight of Lablache's twenty stone oflesh moving with lightning rapidit
astonished him beyond measure. Had h
not seen it nothing would have convince
him of the man's marvelous agility wheroused by emergency. It was somethin
worth remembering.
Sure enough, the face on the other side ohe window belonged to Gautier, and, a
Horrocks opened the door, the Breed
pushed his way stealthily in.
"It's all right, boss," said the man, wit
some show of anxiety, "I've slipped 'em
'm watched pretty closely, but—good
evening, sir," he went on, turning to
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Lablache with obsequious politeness
"This is bad medicine—this busines
we're on."
Lablache cleared his throat and spat, bu
deigned no reply. He intended to take no
part in the ensuing conversation. He onl
wished to observe.
Horrocks at once became the officer to th
subordinate. He turned sharply on th
Breed.
"Cut the cackle and come to business
Have you anything to tell us about thi
Retief? Out with it sharp."
"That depends, boss," said the man, with
cunning smile. "As you sez. Cut the cackl
and come to business. Business means
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deal, and a deal means 'cash pappy.' Wot's
he figger?"
There was no obsequious politeness abouhe fellow now. He was about as bad
specimen of the Breed as could well b
found. Hence his late employment by th
authorities. "The worse the Breed thbetter the spy," was the motto of thos
whose duty it was to investigate crime
Gautier was an excellent spy, thoroughl
unscruplous and rapacious. Hinformation was always a saleabl
commodity, and he generally found hi
market a liberal one. But with busines
nstincts worthy of Lablache himself hwas accustomed to bargain first an
mpart after.
"See here," retorted Horrocks, "I don't g
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about blind-folded. Neither am I going t
fling bills around without getting value fo
em. What's your news? Can you lay hand
on Retief, or tell us where the stock ihidden?"
"Guess you're looking fer somethin' now,
said the man, impudently. "Ef I couldsupply that information right off some 'u
ud hev to dip deep in his pocket fur it.
ken put you on to a good even trail, an
fifty dollars 'ud be small pay for throuble an' the danger I'm put to. Wot say?
Fifty o' the best greenbacks?"
"Mr. Lablache can pay you if he choosesbut until I know that your information'
worth it I don't part with fifty cents. Now
hen, we've had dealings before, Gautie
—dealings which have not always been t
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your credit. You can trust me to par
iberally if you've anything worth telling
but mind this, you don't get anythin
beforehand, and if you don't tell us all yoknow, in you go to Calford and a diet o
skilly'll be your lot for some time t
come."
The man's face lowered considerably a
his. He knew Horrocks well, and wa
perfectly aware that he would be as goo
as his word. There was nothing to bgained by holding out. Therefore h
accepted the inevitable with as bad
grace as possible. Lablache kept silence
but he was reading the Breed as he woula book.
"See hyar, sergeant," said Gautier, sulkily
"you're mighty hard on the Breeds, an' yo
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know it. It'll come back on you, sure, on
o' these days. Guess I'm going to play th
game square. It ain't fur me to bluff men o
your kidney, only I like to know that you'rgoing to treat me right. Well, this is wha
've got to say, an' it's worth fifty as you'l
low."
Horrocks propped himself upon the corne
of the money-lender's desk and prepare
o listen. Lablache's lashless eyes wer
fixed with a steady, unblinking stare upohe half-breed's face. Not a muscle of hi
own pasty, cruel face moved. Gautier wa
alking to, at least, one man who was mor
cunning and devilish than himself.
The dusky ruffian gave a preliminar
cough and then launched upon his stor
with all the flowery embellishments o
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which his inventive fancy was capable
What he had to tell was practically th
same as Horrocks had overheard. Ther
were a few items of importance whiccame fresh to the police-officer's ears. I
stuck Lablache that the man spoke in th
manner of a lesson well learned, and, i
consequence, his keen interest soorelaxed. Horrocks, however, judged
differently, and saw in the man's story
sound corroboration of his ow
nformation. As the story progressed hi
nterest deepened, and at its conclusion h
questioned the half-breed closely.
"This pusky. I suppose it will be the usuadrunken orgie?"
"I guess," was the laconic rejoinder.
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"Any of the Breeds from the othe
settlements coming over?"
"Can't say, boss. Like enough, I take it.""And what is Retief's object in defrayin
all expenses—in giving the treat, when h
knows that the white men are after hi
red-hot?"
"Mebbe it's bluff—cheek. Peter's a bol
man. He snaps his fingers at the police,
replied Gautier, illustrating his word
with much appreciation. He felt he wa
getting a smack at the sergeant.
"Then Peter's a fool."
"Guess you're wrong thar. Peter's th
slickest 'bad man' I've heerd tell of."
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"We'll see. Now what about the keg? O
course the cattle have crossed it. A secre
path?"
"Yup."
"Who knows the secret of it?"
"Peter."
"Only?"
The Breed hesitated. His furtive eyeshifted from one face to the other of hi
auditors. Then encountering the fixed star
of both men he glanced away towards th
window. He seemed uncomfortable undehe mute inquiry. Then he went o
doubtfully.
"I guess thar's others. It's an old secre
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among the Breeds. An' I've heerd tell a
some whites knows it."
A swift exchange of meaning glancepassed between the two listeners.
"Who?"
"Can't say."
"Won't—you mean?"
"No, boss. Ef I knew it 'ud pay me well tell. Guess I don't know. I've tried to find
out."
"Now look you. Retief has always bee
supposed to have been drowned in th
keg. Where's he been all the time?"
The half-breed grinned. Then his fac
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became suddenly serious. He began t
hink the cross-questioning was becomin
oo hot He decided to draw on hi
magination.
"Peter was no more drowned than I was
He tricked you—us all—into that belief
Gee!—but he's slick. Peter went tMontana. When the States got too sultr
fur 'im he jest came right back hyar. He'
been at the camp fur two weeks an' more.
Horrocks was silent after this. Then h
urned to Lablache.
"Anything you'd like to ask him?"
The money-lender shook his head an
Horrocks turned back to his man.
"I guess that's all. Here's your fifty," h
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went on, taking a roll of bills from hi
pocket and counting out the covete
greenbacks. "See and don't get mad drun
and get to shooting. Off you go. If yoearn anything more I'm ready to pay fo
t."
Gautier took the bills and hastily crammehem into his pocket as if he feared h
might be called upon to return them. The
he made for the door. He hesitated befor
he passed out.
"Say, sergeant, you ain't goin' fur to try an
ake 'im at the pusky?" he asked, with a
appearance of anxiety.
"That's my business. Why?"
The Breed shrugged.
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"Ye'll feed the coyotes, sure as—kingdom
come. Say they'll jest flay the pelt off yer.
"Git!"The rascal "got" without further delay o
evil prophecy. He knew Horrocks.
When the door closed, and the officer haassured himself of the man's departure, h
urned to his host.
"Well?"
"Well?" retorted Lablache.
"What do you make of it?"
"An excellent waste of fifty dollars."
Lablache's face was expressive o
ndifference mixed with incredulity.
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"He told you what you already knew," h
pursued, "and drew on his imagination fo
he rest. I'll swear that Retief has not bee
seen at the Breed camp for the lasfortnight. Moreover, that man was recitin
a carefully-thought-out tale. I fancy yo
have something yet to learn in you
business, Horrocks. You have not the gifof reading men."
The police-officer's face was a study. A
he listened to the masterful tone of hicompanion his color came and went. Hi
dark skin flushed and then rapidly paled
A blaze of anger leapt into his keen
flashing eyes. Lablache had flicked hisorely. He struggled to keep cool.
"Unfortunately my position will not allow
me to fall out with you," he said, wit
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scarcely-suppressed heat, "otherwise
should call you sharply to account for you
nsulting remarks. For the moment we wil
pass them over. In the meantime, MrLablache, let me tell you, my experienc
eads me to trust largely to the story of tha
man. Gautier has sold me a good deal o
excellent information in the past, and I aconvinced that what I have now heard i
not the least of his efforts in the law'
behalf. Rascal—scoundrel—as he is, h
would not dare to set me on a false scen
—"
"Not if backed by a man like Retief—an
all the half-breed camp? You surpriseme."
Horrocks gritted his teeth but spok
sharply. Lablache's supercilious tone o
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mockery drove him to the verge o
madness.
"Not even under these circumstances. shall attend that pusky and effect th
arrest. I understand these people bette
han you give me credit for. I presum
your discretion will not permit you to bpresent at the capture?"
t was Horrocks's turn to sneer now
Lablache remained unmoved. He merelpermitted the ghost of a smile.
"My discretion will not permit me to b
present at the pusky. There will be no
capture, I fear."
"Then I'll bid you good-night. There is n
need to further intrude upon your time."
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"None whatever."
The money-lender did not attempt to show
he policeman any consideration. He hadecided that Horrocks was a fool, an
when Lablache formed such an opinion o
a man he rarely attempted to conceal it
especially when the man stood in subordinate position.
After seeing the officer off the premises
Lablache moved heavily back to his deskThe alarm clock indicated ten minutes t
nine. He stood for some moments gazin
with introspective eyes at the timepiece
He was thinking hard. He was convincehat what he had just heard was a mer
fabrication, invented to cover som
ulterior motive. That motive puzzled him
He had no fear for Horrocks's life
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Horrocks wore the uniform of th
Government. Lawless and all as th
Breeds were, he knew they would no
resist the police—unless, of course, Retiewere there. Having decided in his min
hat Retief would not be there he had n
misgivings. He failed to fathom the tren
of affairs at all. In spite of his outwarcalm he felt uneasy, and he started a
hough he had been shot when he heard
oud knocking at his private door.
The money-lender's hand dropped on t
he revolver lying upon the desk, and h
carried the weapon with him when h
went to answer the summons. His alar was needless. His late visitor wa
"Poker" John.
The old rancher came in sheepishl
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enough. There was no mistaking th
meaning of his peculiar crouching gait, th
eering upward glance of his bloodsho
eyes. To any one who did not know himhis appearance might have been that of
drink-soaked tramp, so dishevelled an
bleared he looked. Lablache took in th
old man's condition in one swift glancfrom his pouched and fishy eyes. Hi
greeting was cordial—too cordial. An
other but the good-hearted, simple ol
man would have been suspicious of it
Cordiality was not Lablache's nature.
"Ah, John, better late than never," h
exclaimed gutturally. "Come in and have smoke."
"Yes, I thought I'd just come right down
and—see if you'd got any news."
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"None—none, old friend. Nothing at al
Horrocks is a fool, I'm thinking. Take tha
chair," pointing to the basket chair
"You're not looking up to the mark. Have nip of Glenlivet."
He passed the white-labeled bottle over t
his companion, and watched the ranchecuriously as he shakily helped himself to
iberal "four fingers." "Poker" John wa
rapidly breaking up. Lablache full
realized this.
"No news—no news," murmured John, a
he smacked his lips over his "tot" o
whisky. "It's bad, man, very bad. We'renot safe in this place whilst that man'
about. Dear, dear, dear."
The senility of the rancher was painfull
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apparent. Doubtless it was the result of hi
recent libations and excesses. The money
ender was quite aware that John had no
come to him to discuss the "hustler." Hhad come to suggest a game of cards, bu
for reasons of his own the former wishe
o postpone the request. He had no
expected that "Poker" John would havcome this evening; therefore, certain plan
of his were not to have been put int
execution until the following day. Now
however, it was different. John's coming
and his condition, offered him a chanc
which was too good to be missed, an
Lablache was never a man to misopportunities.
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CHAPTER XVII -
THE NIGHT OF THE
PUSKY
Presently the old man drew himself up
ittle. The spirit had a bracing effect upo
him. The dull leering eyes assumed
momentary brightness, and he almost grewcheerful. The change was not lost upo
Lablache. It was a veritable game of th
cat and the mouse.
"This is the first time your stock has bee
ouched," said John, meaninglessly. Hi
houghts were running upon the game o
cards he had promised himself. A
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unaccountable lack of something lik
moral courage prevented him talking of it
Possibly it was the iron influence of hi
companion which forbade the suggestioof cards. "Poker" John was inwardl
chafing at his own weakness.
"Yes," responded the other, "I have nobeen touched before." Then, suddenly, h
eant forward, and, for the moment, th
money-lender's face lit up with somethin
akin to kindliness. It was an unusual sightand one not to be relied upon. "How man
years is it, John, that we have struggle
side by side in this benighted land?"
The rancher looked at the other, then hi
eyes dropped. He scarcely comprehended
He was startled at the expression of tha
eathery, puffed face. He shifted uneasil
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with the curious weakly restlessness of
shattered nerve.
"More years, I guess, than I care to thinof," he murmured at last.
"Yes, yes, you're right, John—quite right
t doesn't do to look back too far. We're
getting on. But we're not old men ye
We're rich, John, rich in land and
experience. No, not so old. We can stil
give the youngsters points, John. Ha, ha!"
Lablache laughed hollowly at his ow
pleasantry. His companion joined in th
augh, but without mirth. Poker—he coul
hink of nothing but poker. The money
ender insinuatingly pushed the whisk
bottle closer to the senile rancher. Almos
unconsciously the old man helped himself
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"I wonder what it would be like living
private, idle life?" Lablache went on, a
hough speaking to himself. Then directl
o his companion, "Do you know, oldfriend, I'm seriously thinking of selling ou
all my interests and retiring. I've worke
very hard—very hard. I'm getting tired o
t all. Sometimes I feel that rest would bgood. I have amassed a very large fortune
John—as you know."
The confidences of the money-lender werso unusual that "Poker" John, in a daze
way, mildly wondered. The whisky had
roused him a good deal now, and he fel
hat it was good to talk like this. He felhat the money-lender was a good fellow
and much better than he had thought. H
even experienced compunction for th
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opinions which, at times, he ha
expressed of this old companion. Drin
plays strange pranks with one's bette
udgment at times. Lablache noted theffect of his words carefully.
"Yes," said John, "you have worked hard
—we have both worked hard. Our livehave not been altogether without pleasure
The occasional game of cards we hav
had together has always helped to reliev
monotony, eh, Lablache? Yes—yes. Noone can say we have not earned rest. Bu
here—yes, you have been more fortunat
han I. I could not retire."
Lablache raised his sparse eyebrows
Then he helped himself to some whisk
and pushed the bottle over to the other
When John had again replenished his glas
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he money-lender solemnly raised his an
waved it towards the gray-headed ol
man. John responded unsteadily.
"How!"
"How!" replied the rancher.
Both men drank the old Indian toasSimple honesty was in one heart, whil
duplicity and low cunning filled the other
"You could not retire?" said Lablachewhen they had set their empty glasse
upon the desk.
"No—no," answered the other, shaking hihead with ludicrous mournfulness, "no
retire; I have responsibilities—debts. You
should know. I must pay them off. I mus
eave Jacky provided for."
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"Yes, of course. You must pay them off
Jacky should be your first consideration."
Lablache pursed his sensual lips. Hiexpression was one of deep concern. The
he apparently fell into a reverie, durin
which John was wondering how best t
propose the longed-for game of cards. Thother roused himself before the desire
means suggested itself to the old gambler
And his efforts were cut short abruptly.
"Jacky ought to marry," Lablache said
without preamble. "One never knows wha
may happen. A good husband—a man wit
money and business capacity, would be great help to you, and would assure he
future."
Lablache had touched upon the one stron
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point which remained in John Allandale'
character. His love for Jacky rivaled hi
passion for poker, and in its pure honest
was perhaps nearly as strong as thafeverish zest. The gambler suddenl
became electrified into a different being
The signs of decay—the atmosphere o
drink, as it were, fell from him in thflashing of a second, and the old vigorou
rancher, like the last dying flame of a fire
shot up into being.
"Jacky shall marry when she chooses, an
whatever man she prefers. I will neve
profit by that dear child's matrimonia
affairs," he said simply.
Lablache bit his lips. He had been slightl
premature. He acquiesced with a heav
nod of the head and poured himself ou
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some more whisky. The example wa
natural and his companion followed it.
"You are quite right, John. I merely spokefrom a worldly point of view. But you
decision affects me closely."
The other looked curiously at the money
ender, who thus found himself forced to
proceed. Hitherto he had chosen his ow
gait. Now he felt himself being drawn
The process was new to him, but it suitehis purpose.
"How?"
Lablache sighed. It was like the breathinof an adipose pig.
"I have known that niece of yours, John
ever since she came into this world.
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have watched her grow. I understand he
nature as well as you do yourself. She is
clever, bright, winsome girl. But sh
needs the guiding hand of a goohusband."
"Just so. You are right. I am too old to
ake proper care of her. When she chooseshe shall marry."
John's tone was decisive. His words wer
non-committing and open to no argumenLablache went on.
"Supposing now a rich man, a very ric
man, proposed marriage for her
Presuming he was a man against who
here was no doubtful record—who, fro
a worldly point of view, there could be no
objection to—should you object to him a
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a husband for Jacky?"
The rancher was still unsuspecting.
"What I have stated should answer youquestion. If Jacky were willing I shoul
have no objection."
"Supposing," the money-lender went on"she were unwilling, but was content t
abide by your decision. What then?"
There was a passing gleam of angrprotest in the rancher's eyes as h
answered.
"What I have said still holds good," hretorted a little hotly. "I will not influenc
he child."
"I am sorry. I wish to marry your girl."
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There was an impressive silence after thi
announcement. "Poker" John stared i
blank wonderment at his companion. Th
expectation of such a contingency coulnot have been farther from his thought
Lablache—to many his niece—it wa
preposterous—ludicrous. He would no
ake it seriously—he could not. It was oke—and not a nice one.
He laughed—and in his laugh there was
ring of anger.
"Of course you are joking, Lablache," h
said at last. "Why, man, you are old
enough to be the girl's father."
"I was never more serious in my life. And
as for age," with a shrug, "at least you wil
admit my intellect is unimpaired. He
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nterests will be in safe keeping."
Having recovered from his surprise th
old man solemnly shook his head. Somnner feeling made him shrink fro
houghts of Lablache as a husband for hi
girl. Besides, he had no intention o
retreating from the stand he had taken.
"As far as I am concerned the matter i
quite impossible. If Jacky comes to m
with a request for sanction of her marriago you, she shall have it. But I will expres
no wish upon the matter. No, Lablache,
never thought you contemplated such
hing. You must go to her. I will nonterfere. Oh, dear! oh, dear!" and the ol
man laughed again nervously.
Lablache remained perfectly calm. He ha
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expected this result; although he ha
hoped that it might have been otherwise
ow he felt that he had paved the way t
methods much dearer to his heart. Thirefusal of John's he intended to turn t
account. He would force an acceptanc
from Jacky, and induce her uncle, b
certain means, to give his consent.
The money-lender remained silent whil
he refilled his pipe. "Poker" John seize
he opportunity.
"Come, Lablache," he said jocosely, "le
us forget this little matter. Have a drink o
your own whisky—I'll join you—and leus go down to the saloon for a gentl
flutter."
He helped himself to the spirit and poure
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out a glass for his companion. The
silently drank, and then Lablache coughed
spat and lit his pipe. He fumbled his ha
on to his head and moved to the door.
"Come on, then," he said gutturally. And
John Allandale followed him out.
The two days before the half-breed pusk
passed quickly enough for some of thos
who are interested, and dragged thei
weary lengths all too slowly for others. Aast, however, in due course the da
dawned, and with it hopes and fear
matured in the hearts of not a few of th
denizens of Foss River and thsurrounding neighborhood.
To all appearance the most unconcerned
man was the Hon. Bunning-Ford, who stil
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moved about the settlement in his cheery
débonnaire fashion, ever gentlemanly an
always indolent. He had taken up hi
residence in one of the many disuseshacks which dotted round the market
place, and there, apparently, sought to
beguile the hours and eke out the few
remaining dollars which were his. FoLablache, in his sweeping process, ha
still been forced to hand over som
money, over and above his due, as a resul
of the sale of the young rancher's property
The trifling amount, however, was les
han enough to keep body and sou
ogether for six months.Lablache, too, staunch to his opinions, di
not trouble himself in the least. For th
rest, all who knew of the meditated coup
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of Horrocks were agitated to a degree. Al
hoped for success, but all agreed in
feeling of pessimism which was more o
ess the outcome of previous experienceof Retief. Did not they know, only too
well, of the traps which had been laid an
which had failed to ensnare the darin
desperado in days gone by? Horrocks thefondly believed to be a very smart man
but had not some of the best in th
Canadian police been sent before to brin
o justice this scourge of the district?
Amongst those who shared thes
pessimistic views Mrs. Abbot was one o
he most skeptical. She had learnt all thdetails of the intended arrest in the wa
she learned everything that was going on
A few judicious questions to the docto
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and careful observations never left he
ong in the dark. She had a natural gift fo
absorbing information. She was a sort o
social amalgam which never failed tglean the golden particles of news whic
remained after the "panning up" of dail
events in Foss River. Nothing eve
escaped this dear old soul, from thdetails of a political crisis in a distant par
of the continent down to the number o
drinks absorbed by some worthless half
breed in "old man" Smith's saloon. Sh
had one of those keen, active brains whic
refuses to become dull and torpid in a
atmosphere of humdrum monotonyLuckily her nature never allowed her t
become a mischievous busybody. She wa
oo kindly for that—too clever, tactful.
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After duly weighing the point at issue sh
found Horrocks's plans wanting, hence he
unbelief, but, at the same time, her ol
heart palpitated with nervous excitemenas might the heart of any younger and mor
hopeful of those in the know.
As for the Allandales, it would be hard tosay what they thought. Jacky went abou
her duties with a placidity that was almos
worthy of the great money-lender himself
She showed no outward sign, and verittle interest. Her thoughts she kep
severely to herself. But she had thought
on the subject, thoughts which teeme
hrough her brain night and day. She wan reality aglow with excitement, but th
Breed nature in her allowed no sign o
emotion to appear. "Poker" John wa
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beyond a keen interest. Whisky and card
had done for him what morphine an
opium does for the drug fiend. He had n
houghts beyond them. In lucid intervalsas it were, he thought, perhaps, as well a
his poor dulled brain would permit him
but the result of his mental effort woul
scarcely be worth recording.
And so the time drew near.
Horrocks, since his difference of opiniowith Lablache, had made the ranch hi
headquarters, leaving the money-lender a
much as possible out of his consultations
He had been heartily welcomed by olJohn and his niece, the latter in particula
being very gracious to him. Horrocks wa
not a lady's man, but he appreciate
comfort when he could get it, and Jack
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spared no trouble to make hi
comfortable now. Had he known th
smiling thought behind her beautiful fac
his appreciation might have lessened.
As the summer day drew to a close sign
of coming events began to show
hemselves. First of all Aunt Margaremade her appearance at the Allandales
house. She was hot and excited. She ha
come up for a gossip, she said, an
promptly sat down with no intention omoving until she had heard all she wante
o know. Then came "Lord" Bill, cheeril
monosyllabic. He always considered tha
ong speeches were a disgusting waste oime. Following closely upon his heel
came the doctor and Pat Nabob, wit
another rancher from an outlying ranch
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Quite why they had come up they woul
have hesitated to say. Possibly it wa
curiosity—possibly natural interest i
affairs which nearly affected themHorrocks, they knew, was at the ranch
Perhaps the magnetism which surround
persons about to embark on hazardou
undertakings had attracted them thither.
As the hour for supper drew near th
gathering in the sitting-room becam
considerable, and as each newcomepresented himself, Jacky, with thoughtfu
hospitality, caused another place to be se
at her bountiful table. No one was eve
allowed to pass a meal hour at the rancwithout partaking of refreshment. It wa
one of the principal items provided for i
he prairie creed, and the greatest insult t
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be offered at such time would have bee
o leave the house before the repast.
At eight o'clock the girl announced thmeal with characteristic heartiness.
"Come right along and feed," she said
"Who knows what to-night may brin
forth? I guess we can't do better than drin
success to our friend, Sergeant Horrocks
Whatever the result of his work to-nigh
we all allow his nerve's right. Say, goodpeople, there's liquor on the table—an
glasses; a bumper to Sergeant Horrocks."
The wording of the girl's remarks wa
significant. Truly Horrocks might hav
been the leader of a forlorn hope. Many o
hose present certainly considered him t
be such. However, they were none the les
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hearty in their toast, and Jacky and Bil
were the two first to raise their glasses o
high.
The toast drunk, tongues were let loos
and the supper began. Ten o'clock was the
ime at which Horrocks was to set out
Therefore there were two hours in whico make merry. Never was a merrier mea
aken at the ranch. Spirits were at burstin
point, due no doubt to the current o
excitement which actuated each membeof the gathering.
Jacky was in the best of spirits, and eve
"Poker" John was enjoying one of his rarucid intervals. "Lord" Bill sat betwee
Jacky and Mrs. Abbot, and a mor
charming companion the old lady though
she had never met. It was Jacky who le
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he talk, Jacky who saw to every one'
wants, Jacky whose spirits cheere
everybody, by her light badinage, into
even against their better judgment, feeling of optimism. Even Horrocks fel
he influence of her bright, winsom
cheeriness.
"Capture this colored scoundrel, Sergean
Horrocks," the girl exclaimed, with
aughing glance, as she helped him to
goodly portion of baked Jack-rabbit, "anwe'll present you with the freedom of th
settlement, in an illuminated addres
nclosed in a golden casket. That's th
mode, I take it, in civilized countries, anguess we are civilized hereabout, some
Say, Bill, I opine you're the latest thin
from England here to-night. What doe
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freedom' mean?"
Bill looked dubious. Everybody waite
for his answer."Freedom—um. Yes, of course—freedom
Why, freedom means banquets. You know
—turtle soup—bile—indigestion. Bes
champagne in the mayor's cellar. Polic
can't run you in if you get drunk. All tha
sort of thing, don'tcherknow."
"An excellent definition," laughed th
doctor.
"I wish somebody would present me wit
freedom,'" said Nabob, plaintively.
"It's a good thing we don't go in for tha
sort of thing extensively in Canada," put i
Horrocks, as the representative of the law
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"The peaceful pastime of the police woul
soon be taken from them. Why, th
handling of 'drunks' is our onl
recreation."
"That, and for some of them the process o
owering four per cent. beer," added th
doctor, quietly.
Another laugh followed the doctor's sally
When the mirth had subsided Aun
Margaret shook her head. This levit
rather got on her nerves. This Retie
business, as she understood it, was a ver
serious affair, especially for Sergean
Horrocks. She was keenly anxious to hea
he details of his preparations. She knew
most of them, but she liked her informatio
first hand. With this object in view sh
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suggested, rather than asked, what sh
wanted to know.
"But I don't quite understand. I take it yoare going single-handed into the half
breed camp, where you expect to find thi
Retief, Sergeant Horrocks?"
Horrocks's face was serious as he looke
over at the old lady. There was no
aughter in his black, flashing eyes. H
was not a man given to suavity. Hibusiness effectually crushed any approac
o that sort of thing. He was naturally
stern man, too.
"I am not quite mad, madam," he sai
curtly. "I set some value upon my life."
This crushing rejoinder had no effect upo
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Aunt Margaret. She still persisted.
"Then, of course, you take your men wit
you. Four, you have, and smart they lookoo. I like to see well-set-up men. I trus
you will succeed. They—I mean th
Breeds—are a dangerous people."
"Not so dangerous as they're reckoned,
guess," said Horrocks, disdainfully. "
don't anticipate much trouble."
"I hope it will turn out as you think,
replied the old lady, doubtfully.
Horrocks shrugged his shoulders; he wa
not to be drawn.
There was a moment's silence after this
which was at length broken by "Poker
John.
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"Of course, Horrocks," he said, "we shal
carry out your instructions to the letter. A
hree in the morning, failing your return o
news of you, I set out with my ranch hando find you. And woe betide those blac
devils if you have come to harm. By th
way, what about your men?"
"They assemble here at ten. We leave ou
horses at Lablache's stables. We are going
o walk to the settlement."
"I think you are wise," said the doctor.
"Guess horses would be an encumbrance,
said Jacky.
"An excellent mark for a Breed's gun,
added Bill. "Seems to me you'll succeed,
he went on politely. His eagle face wa
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calmly sincere. The gray eyes looke
steadily into those of the officer's. Jack
was watching her lover keenly. Th
faintest suspicion of a smile was in heeyes.
"I should like to be there," she sai
simply, when Bill had finished. "It's meabad luck being a girl. Say, d'you think I'd
be in the way, sergeant?"
Horrocks looked over at her, and in higaze was a look of admiration. In the wa
he knew she would be, but he could no
ell her so. Such spirit appealed to him.
"There would be much danger for you
Miss Jacky," he said. "My hands would b
full, I could not look after you, an
besides—" He broke off at th
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recollection of the old stories about thi
girl. Suddenly he wondered if he had bee
ndiscreet. What if the stories were true
He ran cold at the thought. These peoplknew his plans. Then he looked into th
girl's beautiful face. No, it must be false
She could have nothing in common wit
he rascally Breeds.
"And besides—what?" Jacky said, smilin
over at the policeman.
Horrocks shrugged.
"When Breeds are drunk they are no
responsible."
"That settles it," the girl's uncle said, wit
a forced laugh. He did not like Jacky'
one. Knowing her, he feared she intended
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o be there to see the arrest.
Her uncle's laugh nettled the girl a little
and with a slight elevation of her headshe said,—
"I don't know."
Further talk now became impossible, forat that moment the troopers arrived
Horrocks discovered that it was nearly te
o'clock. The moment for the start ha
come, and, with one accord, everybod
rose from the table. In the bustle an
handshaking of departure Jacky slippe
away. When, she returned the doctor and
Mrs. Abbot were in the hall alone wit
"Lord" Bill. The latter was just leaving
"Poker" John was on the veranda seein
Horrocks off.
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As Jacky came downstairs Aun
Margaret's eyes fell upon the ominou
holster and cartridge belt which circle
he girl's hips. She was dressed for ridingThere could be no mistaking th
determined set of her face.
"Jacky, my dear," said the old lady indismay. "What are you doing? Where ar
you going?"
"Guess I'm going to see the fun—I've notion there'll be some."
"But—"
"Don't 'but' me, Aunt Margaret, I take iyou aren't deaf."
The old lady relapsed into dignifie
silence, but there was much concern and
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ittle understanding in her eyes as sh
watched the girl pass out to the corrals.
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CHAPTER XVIII
THE PUSKY
A pusky is a half-breed dance. That is th
iteral meaning of the word. The practicaranslation, however, is often different. I
reality it is a debauch—a frightful orgie
when all the lower animal instincts—an
hey are many and strong in the half-bree
—are given full sway. When drunkennes
and bestial passions rule the actions o
hese worse than savages. When murde
and crimes of all sorts are committe
without scruple, without even though
Latterly things have changed, and thes
orgies are less frequent among the Breeds
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When Horrocks and his men set out for th
Breed camp they had discarded thei
police clothes and were clad in th
uncouth garb of the half-breeds. They haeven gone to the length of staining thei
faces to the coppery hue of the Indians
They were a ragged party, these hard
riders of the plains, as they embarked oheir meditated capture of the desperat
raider. All of the five were "tough" men
who regarded their own lives lightl
enough—men who had seen many stirrin
imes, and whose hairbreadth escape
from "tight" corners would have formed
engthy narrative in themselves. Thewere going to they knew not what now
but they did not shrink from th
undertaking. Their leader was a ma
whose daring often outweighed hi
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caution, but, as they well knew, he wa
endowed with a reckless man's luck, an
hey would sooner follow such as he—fo
hey were sure of a busy time—than worwith one of his more prudent colleagues.
At the half-breed camp was considerabl
bustle and excitement. The activity of thBreed is not proverbial; they are at best
azy lot, but now men and women cam
and went bristling with energy to thei
finger tips. Preparations were nearincompletion. The chief item of importanc
was the whisky supply, and this th
reasurer, Baptiste, had made his persona
care. A barrel of the vilest "rot-gut" thawas ever smuggled into prohibitio
erritory had been procured and carefull
secreted. This formed the chie
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refreshment, and, doubtless, th
"bluestone" with which its fiery content
were strengthened, would work th
passionate natures, on which it was tplay, up to the proper crime-committin
pitch.
The orgie was to be held in a barn oconsiderable dimensions. It was
ramshackle affair, reeking of old age and
horses. The roof was decidedly porous i
places, being so lame and disjointed thahe starry resplendence of the summer sk
was plainly visible from beneath it.
This, however, was a trifling matter, andof much less consequence than th
question of space. What few horse stall
had once occupied the building had bee
removed, and the mangers alone remained
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with the odor of horse, to remind th
guests of the original purpose of thei
ballroom. A careful manipulation of dingy
Turkey red, and material which had oncbeen white, struggled vainly to hide thes
mangers from view, while coarse, roug
boards which had at one time floore
some of the stalls, served to cover in thops and convert them into seats. Th
result was a triumph of characteristi
ngenuity. The barn was converted into
place of the necessary requirements, bu
rendered hideous in the process.
ext came the disguising of the rafters an
"collar-ties" of the building. This was process which lent itself to the curiousl
warped artistic sense of the benighte
people. Print—I mean cotton rags—wa
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he chief idea of decoration. The
understood these stuffs. They were chea
—or, at least, as cheap as anything sold a
Lablache's store. Besides, print decoratehe persons of the buxom Breed women
herefore what more appropriate than suc
stuff to cover the nakedness of th
building. Festoons of print, flags of prinrosettes of print: these did duty for th
occasion. The staring patterns gleamed o
every beam, or hung in bald drapin
almost down to the height of an ordinar
man's head. The effect was strangel
reminiscent of a second-hand clothe
shop, and helped to foster the nauseatinscent of the place.
A row of reeking oil lamps, swinging i
crazy wire swings, were suspended dow
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he center from the moldering beams, an
n the diamond window spaces were set
number of black bottles, the neck of eac
being stuffed with a tallow candle.
One corner of the room was set apart fo
he fiddler, and here a daïs of roug
boarding, also draped in print stuff, waerected to meet the requirements of tha
honored personage. Such was the uncout
place where the Breeds proposed to hol
heir orgie. And of its class it was aexcellent example.
At ten o'clock the barn was lit up, an
strangely bizarre was the result. Thdraught through the broken windows se
he candles a-guttering, until rivers o
yellow fat decorated the black bottles i
which they were set. The stench fro
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hese, and from the badly-trimmed coal oi
amps down the center, blended
disgustingly with the native odor of th
place, until the atmosphere became heavypungent, revolting in the nostrils, an
breathing became a labor after the swee
fresh air of the prairie outside.
Soon after this the dancers began t
arrive. They came in their strang
deckings of glaring colors, and many an
varied were the types which soon fillehe room. There were old men and ther
were young men. There were girls in thei
early teens, and toothless hags, decrepi
and faltering. Faces which, in wiloveliness, might have vied with the whit
beauty of the daughters of the East. Face
seared and crumpled with weight of year
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and nights of debauchery. Men were ther
of superb physique, whilst other
crouched huddled, with shuffling gai
owards the manger seats, to seek rest foheir rotting bones, and ease for thei
cramping muscles.
Many of the faces were marred bdisease; small-pox was a prevalen
scourge amongst these people. The effec
of the pure air of the prairie was lost upo
he germ-laden atmosphere whicsurrounded these dreadful camps. Crime
oo, was stamped on many of the faces o
hose gathering in the reeking ballroom
The small bullet head with low, recedinforehead; the square set jaws and saggin
ips; the shifty, twinkling little eyes
narrow-set and of jetty hue; such face
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were plentiful. Nor were these feature
confined to the male sex alone. Truly i
was a motley gathering, and not pleasan
o look upon.
All, as they came, were merry wit
anticipation; even the hags and th
rheumatism-ridden male fossils croakeout their quips and coarse pleasantries t
each other with gleeful unctuousness
nspired by thoughts of the generou
contents of the secreted barrel. Theiwatery eyes watered the more, as, o
entering the room, they glanced roun
seeking to discover the fiery store o
iquor, which they hoped to help todispose of. It was a loathsome sight t
behold these miserable wretches gatherin
ogether with no thought in their beast-lik
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brains but of the ample food and drin
which they intended should fall to thei
share. Crabbed old age seekin
rejuvenation in gut-burning spirit.
The room quickly filled, and the chatterin
of many and strange tongues lent an apis
one to the function. The French half-breepredominated, and these spoke thei
bastard lingo with that rapidity an
bristling elevation of tone whic
characterizes their Gallic relatives. Iseemed as though each were trying to tal
his neighbor down, and the proces
entailed excited shriekings which mad
he old barn ring again.
Baptiste, with a perfect understanding o
he people, served out the spirit i
pannikins with a lavish hand. It was a
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well to inspire these folk with the poten
iquor from the start, that their energie
might be fully aroused for the dance.
When all, men and women alike, ha
partaken of an "eye-opener," Baptist
gave the signal, and the fiddler struck up
his plaintive wail. The reedy strings of hinstrument shrieked out the long-draw
measure of a miserable waltz, th
company paired off, and the dance began.
Whatever else may be the failings of th
Breeds they can dance. Dancing is a
much a part of their nature as is the turnin
of a dog twice before he lies down, feature of the canine race. Those wh
were physically incapable of dancin
ined the walls and adorned the mange
seats. For the rest, they occupied th
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sanded floor, and danced until the dus
clouded the air and added to the chokin
foulness of the atmosphere.
The shrieking fiddle lured this savag
people, and its dreadful tone was music o
he sweetest to their listening ears. Thi
was a people who would dance. Thewould dance so long as they could stand.
More drink followed the first dance
Baptiste had not yet recognized the pitcof enthusiasm which must promise
successful evening. The quantities o
iquor thus devoured were appalling. Th
zest increased. The faces wearing ahabitual frown displayed a budding smile
The natural smiler grinned broadly. Al
warmed to the evening's amusement.
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ow came the festive barn dance. Th
moccasined feet pounded the filthy floor
and the dust gathered thick round the gum
of the hard-breathing dancers. The noisof coarse laughter and ribald shouting
ncreased. All were pleased wit
hemselves, but more pleased still with th
fiery liquid served out by Baptiste. Thscene grew more wild as time crept on
and the effect of the liquor made itsel
apparent. The fiddler labored cruelly a
his wretched instrument. His task was n
ight one, but he spared himself no pains
His measure must be even, his tone almos
unending to satisfy his countrymen. Hunderstood them, as did Baptiste. To fai
n his work would mean angry protest
from those he served, and angry protest
amongst the Breeds generally took th
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form of a shower of leaden bullets. So h
scraped away with aching limbs, and wit
heavy foot pounding out the time upon th
crazy daïs. He must play until long aftedaylight, until his fingers cramped, and hi
old eyes would remain open no longer.
Peter Retief had not as yet put in aappearance. Horrocks was at his pos
viewing the scene from outside one of th
broken windows. His men were hard by
concealed at certain points in the shelteof some straggling bush which surrounde
he stable. Horrocks, with characteristi
energy and disregard for danger, had se
himself the task of spying out the land. Hhad a waiting game to play, but the resul
he hoped would justify his action.
The scene he beheld was not new to him
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his duties so often carried him within th
precincts of a half-breed camp. No on
knew the Breeds better than did thi
police officer.
Time passed. Again and again the fiddle
ceased its ear-maddening screams a
refreshment was partaken of by thdancers. Wilder and wilder grew th
scene as the potent liquor took hold of it
victims. They danced with more and mor
reckless abandon as each time thereturned to step it to the fiddler's patien
measure. Midnight approached and still n
sign of Retief. Horrocks grew restless an
mpatient.
Once the fiddle ceased, and the office
watching saw all eyes turn to the principa
entrance to the barn. His heart leapt i
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anticipation as he gazed in the direction
Surely this sudden cessation could onl
herald the coming of Retief.
He saw the door open as he crane
forward to look. For the moment he coul
not see who entered; a crowd obscure
his view. He heard a cheer and a clappinof hands, and he rejoiced. Then the crow
parted and he saw the slim figure of a gir
pass down the center of the reeking den
She was clad in buckskin shirt andungaree skirt. At the sight he muttered
curse. The newcomer was Jack
Allandale.
He watched her closely as she move
amongst her uncouth surroundings. He
beautiful face and graceful figure was lik
o an oasis of stately flora in a desert o
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railing, vicious brambles, and h
marveled at the familiarity with which sh
came among these people. Moreover, h
became beset with misgivings as hremembered the old stories which linke
his girl's name with that of Retief. H
struggled to fathom the meaning of what h
saw, but the real significance of hecoming escaped him.
The Breeds once more returned to thei
dancing, and all went on as beforeHorrocks followed Jacky's movement
with his eyes. He saw her standing besid
a toothless old woman, who wagged he
cunning, aged head as she talked ianswer to the girl's questions. Jack
seemed to be looking and inquiring fo
some one, and the officer wondered if th
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object of her solicitude was Retief. H
would have been surprised had he know
hat she was inquiring and looking fo
himself. Presently she seated herself anappeared to be absorbed in the dance.
The drink was flowing freely now, and
constant demand was being made upoBaptiste. Whilst the fiery spirit scorche
down the hardened throats, strange, weir
groans came from the fiddler's woefu
nstrument. The old man was tuning idown for the plaintive requirements of th
Red River Jig.
The dance of the evening was about tbegin. Men and women primed themselve
for the effort. Each was eager to outdo hi
or her neighbor in variety of steps an
power of endurance. All were prepared to
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do or die. The mad jig was a nationa
contest, and the one who lasted the longes
would be held the champion dancer of th
district—a coveted distinction amongshis strange people.
At last the music began again, and now th
familiar "Ragtime" beat fascinatingly upohe air. Those who lined the walls took up
he measure, and, with foot and clappin
hands, marked the time for the dancers
Those who competed leapt to the fray, andsoon the reeking room became stiflin
with dust.
The fiddler's time, slow at thcommencement, soon grew faster, and th
dancers shook their limbs in delighte
anticipation. Faster and faster the
shuffled and jigged, now opposite t
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partners, now round each other, now
passing from one partner to another, now
alone, for the admiration of the onlookers
or was there pause or hesitation. Anstant's pause meant dropping out of tha
mad and old time "hoe-down," and eac
coveted the distinction of champion
Faster and more wildly they footed it, ansoon the speed caused some of the les
agile to drop out. It was a giddy sight t
watch, and the strange clapping of th
spectators was not the least curiou
feature of the scene.
The crowd of dancers grew thinner as th
fiddler, with a marvelous display of latenenergy, kept ever-increasing his speed.
n spite of himself Horrocks becam
fascinated. There was something s
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barbarous—heathenish—in what h
beheld. The minutes flew by, and th
dance was rapidly nearing its height
More couples fell out, dead beat angasping, but still there remained a numbe
who would fight it out to the bitter end
The streaming faces and gaping lips o
hose yet remaining told of the dreadfustrain. Another couple dropped out, th
woman actually falling with exhaustion
She was dragged aside and left unnotice
n the wild excitement. Now were onl
hree pairs left in the center of the floor.
The police-officer found himsel
speculating as to which would be thwinner of the contest.
"That brown-faced wench, with th
flaming red dress, 'll do 'em all," he sai
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o himself. The woman he was watchin
had a young Breed of great agility for he
vis-à-vis. "She or her partner 'll do it," h
went on, almost audibly. "Good," he wabecoming enthusiastic, "there's anothe
couple done," as two more suddenl
departed, and flung themselves on th
ground exhausted. "Yes, they'll do it—crums, but there goes her partner! Keep i
up, girl—keep it up. The others won't b
ong. Stay with—"
He broke off in alarm as he felt his ar
suddenly clutched from behind
Simultaneously he felt heavy breathin
blowing upon his cheek. Quick as a flashis revolver was whipped out and h
swung round.
"Easy, sergeant," said the voice of one o
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his troopers. "For Gawd's sake don
shoot. Say, Retief's down at the settlement
A messenger's jest come up to say he'
hustled' all our horses from Lablache'stable, and the old man himself's i
rouble. Come over to that bluff yonder
he messenger's there. He's one o
Lablache's clerks."
The police-officer was dumbfounded, an
permitted himself to be conducted to th
bluff without a word. He was wonderinf he were dreaming, so sudden an
unexpected was the announcement of th
disaster.
When he halted at the bluff, the clerk wa
still discussing the affair with one of th
roopers. As yet the other two were i
heir places of concealment, and were i
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gnorance of what had happened.
"It's dead right," the clerk said, in answe
o Horrocks's sharply-put inquiry. "I'dbeen in bed sometime when I wa
awakened by a terrible racket going on i
he office. It's just under the room I slee
n. Well, I hopped out of bed and slippedon some clothes, and went downstairs
hinking the governor had been taken wit
a fit or something. When I got down th
office was in darkness, and quiet as deathwent cautiously to work, for I was a bi
scared. Striking a light I made my way in
expecting to find the governor laid out
but, instead, I found the furniture alchucked about and the room empty. I
wasn't two shakes before I lit upon thi
sheet of paper. It was lying on the desk
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The governor's writing is unmistakable
You can see for yourself; here it is—"
Horrocks took the sheet, and, by the lighof a match read the scrawl upon it. Th
writing had evidently been done in haste
but its meaning was clear.
"Retief is here," it ran. "I am a prisoner
Follow up with all speed. LABLACHE."
After reading, Horrocks turned to th
clerk, who immediately went on with hi
story.
"Well, I just bolted out to the stable
ntending to take a horse and go over tPoker' John's. But when I got there I foun
he doors open, an' every blessed hors
gone. Yes, your horses as well—and the
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governor's buckboard too. I jest had
ook round, saw that the team harness ha
gone with the rest, then I ran as hard as
could pelt to the Foss River Ranch. found old John up, but he'd been drinking
so, after a bit of talk, I learned from hi
where you were and came right along
That's all, sergeant, and bad enough it ioo. I'm afraid they'll string the governo
up. He ain't too popular, you know."
The clerk finished up his breathlesnarrative in a way that left no doubt in th
mind of his hearers as to his sincerity. H
was trembling with nervous excitemen
still. And even in the starlight the lookupon his face spoke of real concern for hi
master.
For some seconds the officer did no
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reply. He was thinking rapidly. To say tha
he was chagrined would hardly convey hi
feelings. He had been done—outwitted—
and he knew it. Done—like the veriesenderfoot. He, an officer of wid
experience and of considerable reputation
And worst of all he remembere
Lablache's warning. He, the moneyender, had been more far-seeing—had
understood something of the trap whic
he, Horrocks, had plunged headlong into
The thought was as worm-wood to th
prairie man, and helped to cloud hi
udgment as he now sought for the bes
course to adopt. He saw now with bittermental self-reviling, how the story tha
Gautier had told him—and for which h
had paid—and which had bee
corroborated by the conversation he ha
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heard in the camp, had been carefull
prepared by the wily Retief; and how he
ike a hungry, simple fish, had deliberatel
risen and devoured the bait. He wamaddened by the thought, too, that th
money-lender had been right and h
wrong, and took but slight solace from th
fact that the chief disaster had overtakehat great man.
However, it was plain that something mus
be done at once to assist Lablache, and hcast about in his mind for the best mean
o secure the money-lender's release. I
his dilemma a recollection came to him o
he presence of Jacky Allandale in thbarn, and a feeling nearly akin to reveng
came to him. He felt that in some way thi
girl was connected with, and knew of, th
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doings of Retief.
With a hurried order to remain where the
were to his men he returned to his statioat the window of the barn. He looked in
searching for the familiar figure of th
girl. Dancing had ceased, and the howlin
Breeds were drinking heavily. Jacky wano longer to be seen, and, with bitte
disappointment, he turned again to rejoi
his companions. There was nothing left t
do but to hasten to the settlement anprocure fresh horses.
He had hardly turned from the window
when several shots rang out on the nighair. They came from the direction in whic
he was moving. Instantly h
comprehended that an attack was bein
made upon his troopers. He drew hi
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pistol and dashed forward at a run. Thre
paces sufficed to terminate his race
Silence had followed the firing of th
shots he had heard. Suddenly his quicears detected the hiss of a lariat whistlin
hrough the air. He spread out his arms to
ward it off. He felt something fall upo
hem. He tried to throw it off, and, the nexnstant the rope jerked tight round hi
hroat, and he was hurled, choking
backwards upon the ground.
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CHAPTER XIX -
LABLACHE'S
MIDNIGHT VISITOR
Lablache was alone in his office. He wa
more alone than he had ever been in hi
ife; or, at least, he felt more alone—
which amounted to much the same thingPossibly, had he been questioned on th
subject, he would have pooh-poohed th
dea, but, nevertheless, in his secret hear
he felt that, in spite of his vast wealth, hwas a lonely man. He knew that he had no
a single friend in Foss River; and i
Calford, another center of his grea
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wealth, things were no better. His method
of business, whilst they brought him man
familiar acquaintances—a large circle o
people who were willing to traderepelled all approach to friendship
Besides, his personality was against him
His flinty disposition and unscrupulou
ove of power were all detrimental thuman affection.
As a rule, metaphorically speaking, h
snapped his fingers at these thingsMoreover, he was glad that such was th
case; he could the more freely indulge hi
passion for grab. Hated, he could wor
out his peculiar schemes without qualmof conscience; loved, it would have bee
otherwise. Yes, Lablache preferred this
social ostracism.
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But the great money-lender had hi
moments of weakness—moments when h
rebelled against his solitary lot. He knew
hat his isolated position had been broughabout by himself—fostered by himself
and he knew he preferred that it should b
so. But, nevertheless, at times he felt ver
onely, and in these moments of weakneshe wondered if he obtained ful
consolation in his great wealth for hi
marooned position. Generally the result o
hese reflections brought him satisfaction
How? is a question. Possibly he force
himself, by that headstrong power wit
which he bent others who came intcontact with him to his will, to such
conclusion. Lablache was certainly
riumph of relentless purpose over fles
and feelings.
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Lablache was nearly fifty, and had lived
alone since he was in his teens. Now h
pined as all who live a solitary life mus
some day pine, for a companion to sharhis loneliness. He craved not for th
society of his own sex. With the instinct i
us all he wanted a mate to share with hi
his golden nest. But this mass of ironerve and obesity was not as other men
He did not weakly crave, and then, wit
his wealth, set out to secure a wife wh
could raise him in the social scale, or ad
o the bags which he had watched grow i
bulk from flattened folds of sacking, to th
distended proportions of miniaturballoons. No, he desired a girl, the onl
relation of a man whom he had helped t
ruin—a girl who could bring him n
social distinction, and who could not ad
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one penny piece to his already enormou
wealth. Moreover, strangely enough, h
had conceived for her a passion whic
was absolutely unholy in its intensity. It ineedless, then, to add, when, speaking o
such a man, that, willing or not, h
ntended that Jacky Allandale should b
his.
Thoughts of this wild, quarter-breed gir
filled his brain as he sat solitary in hi
ittle office on the night of the pusky. Hsat in his favorite chair, in his favorit
position. He was lounging back with hi
slippered feet resting on the burnishe
steel foot-rests of the stove. There was nfire in the stove, of course, but from forc
of habit he gazed thoughtfully at the mic
sides which surrounded the firebox
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Probably in this position he had though
out some of his most dastardly financia
schemes and therefore most suitable i
seemed now as he calculated his chanceof capturing the wild prairie girl for hi
mate.
He had given up all thoughts of eveobtaining her willing consent, and
although his vanity had been hurt by he
rejection of his advances, still he was no
he man to be easily thwarted. His fertilbrain had evolved a means by which t
achieve his end, and, to his scheme-lovin
nature, the process was anything bu
distasteful. He had always, from the firsmoment he had decided to make Jack
Allandale his wife, been prepared fo
such a contingency as her refusal, and ha
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never missed an opportunity of ensnarin
her uncle in his financial toils. He ha
understood the old man's weakness, and
with satanic cunning, had set himself to thask of wholesale robbery, with crushin
results to his victim. This had given hi
he necessary power to further prosecut
his suit. As yet he had not displayed hihand. He felt that the time was barely ripe
Before putting the screw on the Allandale
t had been his object to rid the place, an
his path, of his only stumbling block. I
his he had not quite succeeded as w
have seen. He quite understood that th
Hon. Bunning-Ford must be removed froFoss River first. Whilst he was on han
Jacky would be difficult to coerce
nstinctively he knew that "Lord" Bill wa
her lover, and, with him at hand to advis
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her, Jacky would hold out to the last
However, he believed that in the end h
must conquer. Bunning-Ford's resource
were very limited he knew, and soon hihated rival must leave the settlement an
seek pastures new. Lablache was but
clever scheming mortal. He did not credi
others with brains of equal caliber, muchess cleverer and more resourceful tha
his own. It had been better for him had hi
own success in life been less assured, fo
hen he would have been more doubtful o
his own ability to do as he wished, and h
would have given his adversaries credi
for a cleverness which he now considereas only his.
After some time spent in surveying an
considering his plans his thoughts reverte
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o other matters. This was the night of th
half-breed pusky. His great face contorted
nto a sarcastic smile as he thought o
Sergeant Horrocks. He remembered witvivid acuteness every incident of hi
nterview with the officer two nights ago
He bore the man no malice now for th
contradiction of himself, for the reasohat he was sure his own beliefs on th
subject of Retief would be amply realized
His lashless eyes quivered as his thought
nvoked an inward mirth. No one realize
more fully than did this man the duplicit
and cunning of the Breed. He anticipated
great triumph over Horrocks the next timhe saw him.
As the time passed on he became mor
himself. His loneliness did not strike hi
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so keenly. He felt that after all there wa
great satisfaction to be drawn from
watcher's observance of men. Isolated a
he was he was enabled to look on men anhings more critically than he otherwis
would be.
He reached over to his tobacco jar, whicstood upon his desk, and leisurel
proceeded to fill his pipe. It was rarely h
ndulged himself in an idle evening, bu
o-night he somehow felt that idleneswould be good. He was beginning to fee
he weight of his years.
He lit his heavy briar and proceeded tenvelop himself in a cloud of smoke. H
gasped out a great sigh of satisfaction, an
his leathery eyelids half closed. Presentl
a gentle tap came at the glass door, which
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partitioned off the office from the store
Lablache called out a guttural "Come in,
at the same time glancing at the lou
icking "alarm" on the desk. He knew whhis visitor was.
One of the clerks opened the door.
"It is past ten, sir, shall I close up?" h
asked.
"Yes, close up. Whose evening off is it?"
"Rodgers, sir. He is still out. He'll be i
before midnight, sir."
"Ah, down at the saloon, I expect," saiLablache, drily. "Well, bolt the front door
Just leave it on the spring latch. I shall b
up until he comes in. What are you tw
boys going to do?"
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"Going to bed, sir."
"All right; good-night."
"Good-night, sir."
The door closed quietly after the clerk
and Lablache heard his two assistant
close up the store and then go upstairs their rooms. The money-lender wa
served well. His employees in the stor
had been with him for years. They wer
worked very hard and their pay was no
great, but their money was sure, and thei
employment was all the year round. S
many billets upon the prairie depende
upon the seasons—opulence one mont
and idleness the next. On the ranches i
was often worse. There is but little labo
needed in the winter. And those who have
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he good fortune to be employed all th
year round generally experience
reduction in wages at the end of the fal
round-up, and find themselves doing th"chores" when winter comes on.
After the departure of the clerk Lablach
re-settled himself and went on smokinplacidly. The minutes ticked slowly away
An occasional groan from the long
suffering basket chair, and the wreathin
clouds of smoke were the onlappreciable indication of life in that littl
room. By-and-by the great man reached
memorandum tablet from his desk an
dotted down a few hurried figures. Thehe breathed a great sigh, and his face wor
a look of satisfaction. There could be n
doubt as to the tenor of his thoughts
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Money, money. It was as life to him.
The distant rattle of the spring lock of th
store front door being snapped-tdisturbed the quiet of the office. Lablach
heard the sound. Then followed th
bolting of the door. The money-lende
urned again to his figures. It was threturn of Rodgers, he thought, which ha
disturbed him. He soon became buried i
further calculations. While figuring h
unconsciously listened for the sound of thclerk's footsteps on the stairs as he mad
his way up to his room. The sound did no
come. The room was clouded wit
obacco smoke, and still Lablache belcheout fresh clouds to augment the reek of th
atmosphere. Suddenly the glass doo
opened. The money-lender heard th
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handle move.
"Eh, what is it, Rodgers?" he said, in
displeased tone. As he spoke he peeredhrough the smoke.
"What d'you want?" he exclaimed angrily
Then he rubbed his eyes and crane
forward only to fall back again with
muttered curse. He had stared into th
muzzle of a heavy six-shooter.
He moved his hand as though to throw hi
memorandum pad on the desk, bu
nstantly a stern voice ordered him t
desist and the threatening revolver cam
closer.
"Jest stay right thar, pard." The word
were spoken in an exaggerated Western
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drawl. "My barker's mighty light in th
rigger. I guess it don't take a hundred
weight to loose it. And I don't cotton to
mucking up this floor with yer vitals."
Lablache remained still. He saw befor
him the tall thin figure of a half-breed. H
had black lank hair which hung looseldown almost on to his shoulders. His fac
was the color of mud, and he wa
possessed of a pair of keen gray eyes an
a thin-hooked nose. His face wore a loftook of command, and was stamped by a
expression of the unmost resolution. H
spoke easily and showed not the smalles
haste.
"Guess we ain't met before, boss—no
familiar-like, leastways. My name's Retie
—Peter Retief, an' I take it yours i
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Lablache. Now I've jest come right alon
o do biz with you—how does that fit you
bowels?"
The compelling ring of metal faced th
astonished money-lender. For the momen
he remained speechless.
"Wal?" drawled the other, with elaborate
significance.
Lablache struggled for words. Hi
astonishment—dismay made the effort
difficult one.
"You've got the drop on me you—you
damned scoundrel," he at last burst outhis face for the moment purpling wit
rage. "I'm forced to listen to you now," h
went on more gutturally, as the paroxys
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having found vent began to pass, "bu
watch yourself that you make no ba
reckoning, or you'll regret this busines
until the rope's round your neck. You'll genothing out of me—but what you take
ow then, be sharp. What are you going t
do?"
The half-breed grinned.
"You're mighty raw oh the hide jest now,
guess. But see hyar, my reckonin's are nigas slick as yours. An' jest slant yer tongu
some. 'Damned scoundrel' sliden' from ye
flannel face is like a coyote roundin' on
imber wolf, an' a coyote ain't as lowdown as a skunk. I opine I want a dea
from you," Retief went on, with a hollow
augh, "and wot I want I mostly git, i
hese parts."
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Lablache was no coward. And even now
he had not the smallest fear for his life
But the thought of being bluffed by th
very man he was willing to pay so mucfor the capture of riled him almost beyon
endurance. The Breed noted the effect o
his words and pushed his pistol almost t
within arm's reach of the money-lender'face.
The half-breed's face suddenly becam
stem.
"That's a dandy ranch of yours dow
south. Me an' my pards 'ave taken a notio
o it. Say, you're comin' right along witus. Savee? Guess we'll show you th
slickest round up this side o' the border
ow jest sit right thar while I let my mate
n."
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Retief took no chances. Lablache, unde
pistol compulsion, was forced to remai
motionless in his chair. The swarth
Breed backed cautiously to the door untihis hand rested upon the spring catch
This, with deft fingers, he turned and the
forced back, and the next moment he wa
oined by two companions as dark ahimself and likewise dressed in th
picturesque garb of the prairie "hustler.
The money-lender, in spite of hi
predicament, was keenly alert, and lost n
detail of the new-comers' appearance. H
ook a careful mental photograph of eac
of the men, trusting that he might find thsame useful in the future. He wondere
what the next move would be. He eyed th
Breed's pistol furtively, and thought of hi
own weapon lying on his desk at th
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corner farthest from him. He knew ther
was no possible chance of reaching it. Th
slightest unbidden move on his part woul
mean instant death. He understood, onloo well, how lightly human, life was hel
by these people. Implicit obedience alon
could save him. In those few thrillin
moments he had still time to realize thclever way in which both he and Horrock
had been duped. He had never for
moment believed in Gautier's story, bu
had still less dreamed of such a darin
outrage as was now being perpetrated. H
had not long to wait for developments
Directly the two men were inside, and thdoor was again closed, Retief pointed t
he money-lender.
"Hustle, boys—the rope. Lash his feet."
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One of the men produced an old lariat In
rice the great man's feet were fast.
"His hands?" said one of the men."Guess not. He's goin' to write, some."
Lablache instantly thought of his cheque
book. But Retief had no fancy for what hconsidered was useless paper.
The hustler stepped over to the desk. Hi
keen eyes spotted the money-lender'pistol lying upon the far corner of it. H
had also noted his prisoner casting furtiv
glances in the direction of it. To preven
any mischance he picked the gleaminweapon up and slipped it into his hip
pocket. After that he drew a sheet o
foolscap from the stationery case and lai
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t on the blotting pad. Then he turned to hi
comrades.
"Jest help old money-bags over," he saidquietly. He was thoroughly alert, and a
calmly indifferent to the danger o
discovery as if he were engaged on th
most righteous work.
When Lablache had been hoisted an
pushed into position at the desk the raide
ook up a pen and held it out towards him
"Write," he said laconically.
Lablache hesitated. He looked from th
pen to the man's leveled pistol. Then hreluctantly took the pen. The half-bree
promptly dictated, and the other wrote
The compulsion was exasperating, and th
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great man scrawled with all th
pettishness of a child.
The message read— "Retief is here. I am a prisoner. Follow up
with all speed."
"Now sign," said the Breed, when thmessage was written.
Lablache signed and flung down the pen.
"What's that for?" he demanded huskily.
"For?" His captor shrugged. "I guess the
gophers of police are snugly trussed b
now. Mebbe, though, one o' them might 'a
got clear away. When they find you'r
gone, they'll light on that paper. I jest wan
em to come right along after us. Savee
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t'll 'most surprise 'em when they com
along." Then he turned to his men. "Now
boys, lash his hands, and cut his fee
adrift. Then, into the buckboard with himGuess his carcase is too bulky for an
plug' to carry. Get a hustle on, lads
We've hung around here long enough."
The men stepped forward to obey thei
chief, but, at that moment, Lablache gav
another display of that wonderful agilit
of his of which, at times, he was capableHis rage got the better of him, and eve
under the muzzle of his captor's pistol h
was determined to resist. We have said
hat the money-lender was no coward; ahat moment he was desperate.
The nearest Breed received a terrifi
buffet in the neck, then, in spite of hi
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bound feet, Lablache seized his heav
swivel chair, and, raising it with all hi
strength he hurled it at the other. Stil
Relief's pistol was silent. The moneyender noticed the fact, and he becam
even more assured. He turned heavily an
aimed a blow at the "hustler." But, even a
he struck, he felt the weight of Retief'hand, and struggling to steady himself—
his bound feet impeding him—h
overbalanced and fell heavily to th
ground. In an instant the Breeds were upo
him. His own handkerchief was used t
gag him, and his hands were secured
Then, without a moment's delay, he wahoisted from the floor—his great weigh
bearing his captors down—and carrie
bodily out of the office and thrown into hi
own buckboard, which was waiting at th
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door. Retief sprang into the driving sea
whilst one of the Breeds held the prisone
down, some other dark figures leapt int
he saddles of several waiting horses, anhe party dashed off at a breakneck speed.
The gleaming stars gave out more tha
sufficient light for the desperate teamsterHe swung the well-fed, high-mettle
horses of the money-lender round, an
headed right through the heart of th
settlement. The audacity of this man wasuperlative. He lashed the animals into
gallop which made the saddle horse
extend themselves to keep up. On, on int
he night they raced, and almost in a flashe settlement was passed. The sleep
nhabitants of Foss River heard the ma
racing of the horses but paid no heed. Th
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daring of the raider was his safeguard.
Lablache knew their destination. The
were traveling southward, and he felt thaheir object was his own ranch.
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CHAPTER XX - A
NIGHT OF TERROR
That midnight drive was one lon
nightmare to the unfortunate captive. Hhad been thrown, sprawling, into the iron
railed "carryall" platform at the back o
he buckboard, and lay on the nut-studde
slats, where he was jolted and bumpe
about like the proverbial pea on a drum.
When the raider changed his direction
and turned off the trail on to the opeprairie, the horrors of the prisoner'
position were intensified a hundredfold
Alone, there was insufficient room for th
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suffering man in the limited space of th
"carryall," but beside him sat, or rathe
crouched, a burly Breed, ready at
moment's notice to quash any attempt aescape on the part of the wretched money
ender.
Thus he was borne along, mile after milesouthward towards his own ranch
Sometimes during that terrible rid
Lablache found time to wonder what wa
he object of these people in thukidnapping him. Surely if they only mean
o carry off his cattle, such a task coul
have been done without bringing hi
along with them. It seemed to him thahere could be only one interpretation pu
upon the matter, and, in spite of hi
present agonies, the great man shuddere
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as he thought.
Courageous as he was, he endured
period of mental agony which took all thheart out of him. He understood th
methods of the prairie so well that h
feared the very worst. A tree—a lariat—
and he saw, in fancy, a crowd of carrionswarming round his swinging body. H
could conceive no other object, and hi
nerves became racked almost to breakin
pitch.
The real truth of the situation was beyon
his wildest dreams. The significance o
he fact that this second attack was madagainst him was lost upon the wretche
man. He only seemed to realize wit
natural dread that Retief—the terror of th
countryside—was in this, therefore th
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outcome must surely be the very worst.
At length the horses drew up at Lablache'
onely ranch. His nearest neighbor was nowithin ten miles of him. With that love o
power and self aggrandisement whic
always characterized him, the money
ender had purchased from thGovernment a vast tract of country, and
retained every acre of it for his own stock
t might have stood him in good stead now
had he let portions of his grazing, and ssettled up the district. As it was, his ranch
was characteristic of himself—isolated
and he knew that Retief could here wor
his will with little chance of interference.
As Lablache was hoisted from th
buckboard and set upon his feet, and th
gag was removed from his mouth, the firs
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hing he noticed was the absolut
quiescence of the place. He wondered i
his foreman and the hands were ye
sleeping.
He was not long left in doubt. Retief gav
a few rapid orders to his men, and as h
did so Lablache observed, for the firsime, that the Breeds numbered at leas
half-a-dozen. He felt sure that not mor
han four besides their chief had travele
with them, and yet now the number hancreased.
The obvious conclusion was that th
others were already here at the time of tharrival of the buckboard, doubtless wit
he purpose of carrying out Retief's plans.
The Breeds moved off in variou
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directions, and their chief and the money
ender were left alone. As soon as th
others were out of earshot the raide
approached his captive. His face seemeo have undergone some subtle change
The lofty air of command had bee
replaced by a look of bitter hatred an
errible cruelty.
"Now, Lablache," he said coldly, "I gues
you're goin' to see some fun. I ain't mostl
hard on people. I like to do the thinhan'some. Say I'll jest roll this bar'l 'lon
so as you ken set. An' see hyar, ef you're
mighty quiet I'll loose them hands o
yours."
Lablache deigned no reply, but the othe
was as good as his word.
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"Sulky, some, I guess," the half-breed
went on. "Wal, I'm not goin' back on my
word," he added as he rolled the barrel u
o his prisoner and scotched it securely"Thar, set."
The money-lender didn't move.
"Set!" This time the word conveyed
command and the other sat down on th
barrel.
"Guess I can't stand cantankerous cusses
ow, let's have a look at yer bracelets."
He sat beside his captive and proceede
o loosen the rope which bound his wristsThen he quietly drew his pistol and reste
t on his knee. Lablache enjoyed hi
freedom, but wondered what was comin
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next.
There was a moment of silence while th
wo men gazed at the corrals and buildingset out before them. Away to the right, on
a rising ground, stood a magnificent hous
built of red pine lumber. Lablache had
built this as a dwelling for himself. Fohe prairie it was palatial, and there wa
nothing in the country to equal it. Thi
building alone had cost sixty thousan
dollars. On a lower level there were thgreat barns. Four or five of these stoo
inked up by smaller buildings an
quarters for the ranch hands. Then ther
was a stretch of low buildings which werhe boxes built for the great man'
horoughbred stud horses. He wa
possessed of six such animals, and thei
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aggregate cost ran into thousands o
pounds, each one having been importe
from England.
Then there were the corrals with thei
great ten-foot walls, all built of the fines
pine logs cut from the mountain forests
These corrals covered acres of grounand were capable of sheltering fiv
housand head of cattle without thei
capacity being taxed. It was an ideal plac
and represented a considerable fortuneLablache noticed that the corrals wer
entirely empty. He longed to ask hi
captor for explanation, but would not giv
hat swarthy individual the satisfaction omparting unpleasant information.
However, Retief did not intend to let th
money-lender off lightly. The crue
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expression of his face deepened as h
followed the direction of Lablache's gaze
"Fine place, this," he said, with comprehensive nod. "Cost a pile o
dollars, I take it."
o answer.
"You ain't got much stock. Guess the boy
ave helped themselves liberal."
Lablache turned his face towards hicompanion. He was fast being drawn.
"Heard 'em gassin' about twenty thousan
head some days back. Guess they'vborrowed 'em," he went on indifferently.
"You villain!" the exasperated prisone
hissed at last.
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f ever a look conveyed a lust for murde
Lablache's lashless eyes expressed it.
"Eh? What? Guess you ain't well." The icones mocked at the distraught captive.
The money-lender checked his wrath an
struggled to keep cool.
"My cattle are on the range. You could
never have driven off twenty thousan
head. It would have been impossibl
without my hearing of it. It is more tha
one night's work."
"That's so," replied the half-breed, smilin
sardonically. "Say, your hands andforeman are shut up in their shack. They'v
bin taking things easy fur a day or two
Jest to give my boys a free hand. Gues
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we've been at work here these three days.
The money-lender groaned inwardly. H
understood the Breed's meaning only towell. At last his bottled-up rage broke ou
again.
"Are you man or devil that you spirit awa
great herds like this. Across the keg,
know, but how—how? Twenty thousand
My God, you'll swing for this night'
work," he went on impotently. "The wholcountryside will be after you. I am not th
man to sit down quietly under suc
handling. If I spend every cent I'
possessed of, you shall be hounded dowuntil you dare not show your face on thi
side of the border."
"Easy, boss," the Breed retorted
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mperturbably. "Ef you want to see tha
precious store o' yours again a civi
ongue 'll help you best. I'm mostly
patient man—easy goin'-like. Now jeskeep calm an' I'll let you see the fun. Now
hat's a neat shack o' yours," he went on
pointing to the money-lender's mansion
"Wonder ef I could put a dose o' lead intoone o' the windows from here."
Lablache began to think he was dealin
with a madman. He remained silent, anhe Breed leveled his pistol in th
direction of the house and fired. A
moment's silence followed the sharp
report. Then Retief turned to his captive.
"Guess I didn't hear any glass smash
Likely I missed it," and he chuckle
fiendishly. Lablache sat gazing moodily a
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he building. Then the half-breed's voic
roused him. "Hello, wot's that?" He wa
pointing at the house. "Why, some galoot'
ightin' a bonfire! Say, that's dangerouLablache. They might fire your place."
But the other did not answer. His eye
were staring wide with horror. As if inanswer to the pistol-shot a fire had bee
it against the side of the house. It was n
ordinary fire, either, but a great pile o
hay. The flames shot up with terriblswiftness, licking up the side of the re
pine house with lightning rapidity
Lablache understood. The house was to b
demolished, and Retief had given thsignal. He leapt up from his seat, forgetfu
of his bound feet, and made as though t
seize the Breed by the throat. He got n
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further, however, for Retief gripped him
by the shoulder, and, notwithstanding hi
great bulk, hurled him back on to th
barrel, at the same time pressing thmuzzle of his pistol into his face.
"Set down, you scum," he thundered
"Another move like that an' I'll let thatmosphere into yer." Then with a Sudde
return to his grim pastime, as the othe
remained quiet, "Say, red pine make
powerful fine kindlin'. I reckon they'll sehat light at the settlement. You don't seem
pleased, man. Ain't it a beaut. Look
hey've started it the other side. Now th
smoke stack's caught. Burn, burn, yobeauty. Look, Lablache, a sixty thousand
dollar fire, an' all yours. Ain't you proud
o think that it's all yours?"
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Lablache was speechless with horror
Words failed to express his feelings. The
Breed watched him as a tiger migh
contemplate its helpless prey. Hunderstood something of the agony th
great man was suffering. He wanted him t
suffer—he meant him to suffer. But he had
only just begun the torture he had scarefully prepared for his victim.
Presently the roof of the building crashe
n, and, for the moment, the blaze leaphigh. Then, soon, it began to die down
Retief seemed to tire of watching th
dying blaze. He turned again to hi
prisoner.
"Not 'nough, eh? Not 'nough. We can't stop
here all night. Let's have the rest. Th
sight'll warm your heart." And he laughed
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at his own grim pleasantry. "The boy
have cleared out your stud 'plugs.' And,
guess, yer barns are chocked full of ye
wheel gearing and implements. Say, guess we'll have 'em next."
He turned from his silent captive withou
waiting for reply, and rapidly dischargedhe remaining five barrels of his pisto
For answer another five bonfires wer
ighted round the barns and corals. Almos
nstantly the whole place became gorgeous blaze of light. The entire ranch
with the exception of one little shack wa
now burning as only pine wood can burn
t was a terrible, never-to-be-forgottesight, and Lablache groaned audibly as h
saw the pride of his wealth rapidly gutted
f ever a man suffered the money-lende
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suffered that night Retief showed a grea
understanding of his prisoner—far to
great an understanding for a man who wa
supposed to be a stranger to Lablache—ihe way he set about to torture his victim
o bodily pain could have equaled th
mental agony to which the usurer wa
submitted. The sight of the demolishing ohis beautiful ranch—probably the mos
beautiful in the country—was a cruell
exquisite torture to the money-loving man
That dread conflagration represented th
oss to him of a fortune, for, with graspin
pusillanimity, Lablache had refused to
nsure his property. Had Retief known thihe could not have served his own purpos
better. Possibly he did know, and possibly
hat was the inducement which prompte
his action. Truly was the money-lende
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paying dearly for past misdeeds. With th
heft of his cattle and the burning of hi
ranch his loss was terrible, and, in hi
moment of anguish, he dared not attempt tcalculate the extent of the catastrophe.
When the fire was at its height Retie
again addressed his taunting language the man beside him, and Lablache writhe
under the lash of that scathing tongue.
"I've heerd tell you wer' mighty proud ohis place of yours. Spent piles o' bills o
t. Nothin' like circulatin' cash, I guess
Say now, how long did it take you to fi
hem shacks up?"
o answer. Lablache was beyond mer
words.
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"A sight longer than it takes a bit o
kindlin' to fetch 'em down, I take it," h
went on placidly. "When d'ye think you'l
start re-building? I wonder," thoughtfully"why they don't fire that shed yonder,
pointing to the only building lef
untouched. "Ah, I was forgettin', that'
whar your hands are enjoyin' themselvest's thoughtful o' the boys. I guess they'r
good lads. They don't cotton to killin
prairie hands. But they ain't so particula
over useless lumps o' flesh, I guess," wit
a glance at the stricken man beside him.
Lablache was gasping heavily. The menta
strain was almost more than he coulbear, and his crushed and hopeles
attitude brought a satanic smile on th
cruel face beside him.
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"You don't seem to fancy things much,
Retief went on. "Guess you ain't enjoyin
yerself. Brace up, pard; you won't gi
another sight like this fur some time. Whywot's ailing yer?" as the barrel on whic
hey were seated moved and Lablach
nearly rolled over backwards. "I hadn't
notion yer wouldn't enjoy yerself. Say, jesook right thar. Them barns," he added
pointing, towards the fire, "was buil
mighty solid. They're on'y jest cavin'."
Lablache remained silent. Words, he felt
would be useless. In fact it is doubtful i
he would have been equal to expression
His spirit was crushed and he feared thman beside him as he had never feare
any human being before. Such was th
nervous strain put upon him that the sens
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of his loss was rapidly absorbed in
dread for his own personal safety. Th
conflagration had lost its fascination fo
him, and at every move—every word—ohis captor he dreaded the coming of hi
own end. It was a physical and menta
collapse, and bordered closely o
frenzied terror. It was no mental effort ohis own that kept him from hurling himsel
upon the other and biting and tearing in
vain effort to rend the life out of him. Th
hought—the fever, desire, craving—wa
here, but the will, the personality, of th
Breed held him spellbound, an inert mas
of flesh incapable of physical effort—ncapable almost of thought, but a prey t
an overwhelming terror.
The watching half-breed at length ros
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from his seat and shrugged his thin
stooping shoulders. He had had enough o
his pastime, and time was getting on. H
had other work to do before daylight. Hput his hand to his mouth and imitated th
cry of the coyote. An instant late
answering cries came from variou
directions, and presently the Breedgathered round their chief.
"Say, bring up the 'plugs,' lads. The old
boy's had his bellyfull. I guess we'll gion." Then he turned upon the broke
money-lender and spoke while he re
charged the chambers of his pistol.
"See hyar, Lablache, this night's work i
on'y a beginning. So long as you live i
Foss River Settlement so long will I hun
you out an' hustle yer stock. You talked o
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houndin' me, but I guess the shoe's on th
other foot. I ain't finished by a sight, an
you'll hear from me agin'. I don't fancy ye
ife," he went on with a grin. "Et's toeasy, I guess. Et's yer bills I'm after. Ye've
got plenty an' to spare. But bills is all
fired awk'ud to handle when they pas
hro' your dirty hands. So I'll wait tilyou've turned 'em into stock. Savee? I'
est goin' right on now. Thar's a bunch o
yer steers waitin' to be taken off. Happe
'm goin' to see to 'em right away. One o
hese lads'll jest set some bracelets on ye
hands, and leave yer tucked up an
comfortable so you can't do any harm, anyou can set right thar an' wait till some 'u
comes along an' looses yer. So long, pard
an' remember, Foss River's the hottes
place outside o' hell fur you, jest now."
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Some of the half-breeds had brought u
he horses whilst Retief was talking, and
as he finished speaking, the hustler vaulte
on to the back of the great chestnutGolden Eagle, and prepared to ride away
Whilst the others were getting into thei
saddles he took one look at the wretche
captive whose hands had been agaisecured. There was a swift exchange o
glances—malevolent and murderous o
he part of the money-lender, and derisiv
on the part of the half-breed—then Retie
swung his charger round, and, at the hea
of his men, galloped away out into th
starry night.
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CHAPTER XXI -
HORROCKS LEARNS
THE SECRET OF
THE MUSKEG
The rope which brought Horrocks to th
ground came near to strangling him. Hstruggled wildly as he fell, and, as h
struggled, the grip of the rope tightened
He felt that the blood was ready to burs
from his temples and eyes. Theeverything seemed to swim about him an
he believed consciousness was leavin
him. Everything was done in a momen
and yet he seemed to be passing throug
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an eternity of time.
The lariat is a handy weapon, but to trul
appreciate its merits one must be a prairiman. The Breeds are prairie men. The
understand fully the uses to which
"rope" may be put. For criminal purpose
hey appreciate its silent merits, and thdexterity with which they can use it make
ts value equal to, and even surpass, th
noisier and more tell-tale pistol.
The next thing that the policeman knew
was that he was stretched on his bac
upon the ground, disarmed, and with
great bandanna secured about his eyes anmouth, and his hands tied behind his back
Then a gruff voice bade him rise, and, a
he silently obeyed, he was glad to feel tha
he gripping lariat was removed from hi
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hroat. Truly had the officer's pride gon
before a fall. And his feelings were now
of the deepest chagrin. He stood turnin
his head from side to side, blindly seekino penetrate the bandage about his eyes
He knew where he was, of course, but h
would have given half his year's salary fo
a sight of his assailants.
He was not given long for his futil
efforts. The same rough voice which ha
bade him rise now ordered him to walkand he found himself forced forward b
he aid of a heavy hand which gripped on
of his arms. The feeling of a blindfol
walk is not a happy one, and the officeexperienced a strange sensation of fallin
as he was urged he knew not whither
After a few steps he was again halted, an
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hen he felt himself seized from behin
and lifted bodily into a conveyance.
He quickly realized that he was in buckboard. The slats which formed th
body of it, as his feet lit upon them, tol
him this. Then two men jumped in afte
him and he found himself seated betweehem. And so he was driven off.
n justice to Horrocks it must be said tha
he experienced no fear. True, his chagrinwas very great. He saw only too plainl
what want of discretion he had displaye
n trusting to the Breed's story, but he fel
hat his previous association with thrascal warranted his credulity, and th
outcome must be regarded as the fortun
of war. He only wondered what strang
experience this blindfold journey was t
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forerun. There was not the least doubt i
his mind as to whose was the devising o
his well-laid and well-carried-out plot
Retief, he knew, must be answerable fohe plan, and the method displayed in it
execution plainly showed him that ever
detail had been carefully thought out, an
administered by only too willing handsThat there was more than ordinar
purpose in this blindfold journey he fel
assured, and he racked his brains t
discover the desperado's object. He eve
found time to speculate as to how it ha
fared with his men, only here he was eve
more at a loss than in the case of his owultimate fate.
n less than half an hour from the time o
his capture the buckboard drew up besid
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some bush. Horrocks knew it was a bluff
He could hear the rustle of the leaves a
hey fluttered in the gentle night air. The
he was unceremoniously hustled to thground, and, equally unceremoniously
urged forward until his feet trod upon th
stubbly, breaking undergrowth. Next h
was brought to a stand and swung roundface about, his bonds were removed, an
four powerful hands gripped his arms. B
hese he was drawn backwards until h
bumped against a tree-trunk. His hand
were then again made fast, but this tim
his arms embraced the tree behind him. I
his manner he was securely trussed.ow from behind—his captors were wel
behind him—a hand reached over, and, b
a swift movement, removed the bandag
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from before his eyes. Then, before he ha
ime to turn his head, he heard
scrambling through the bush, and,
moment later, the sound of the creakinbuckboard rapidly receding. He was lef
alone; and, after one swift, comprehensiv
survey, to his surprise, he found himsel
facing the wire-spreading muskeg, at thvery spot where he had given up furthe
pursuit of the cattle whose "spur" he ha
raced down to the brink of the visci
mire.
His astonishment rendered him obliviou
o all else. He merely gazed out acros
hat deceptive flat and wondered. Why—why had this thing been done, and wha
strange freak had induced the "hustler" t
conceive such a form of imprisonment fo
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his captive? Horrocks struggled with hi
confusion, but he failed to fathom th
mystery, and never was a man's confusio
worse confounded than was his.
Presently he bethought him of his bonds
and he cautiously tried them. They wer
quite unyielding, and, at each turn of hiarms, they caused him considerable pain
The Breeds had done their work well, an
he realized that he must wait the raider'
pleasure. He was certain of one thinghowever, which brought him a sligh
amount of comfort. He had been brough
here for a definite purpose. Moreover, h
did not believe that he was to be left heralone for long. So, with resignatio
nduced by necessity, he possessed
himself of what patience he best coul
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summon.
How long that solitary vigil laste
Horrocks had no idea. Time, in thapredicament, was to him of little accoun
He merely wondered and waited. H
considered himself more than fortunat
hat his captors had seen fit to remove thbandage from his eyes. In spite of hi
painful captivity he felt less helpless fro
he fact that he could see what might b
about him.
From a general survey his attention soo
became riveted upon the muskeg sprea
out before him, and, before long, hihoughts turned to the secret path which h
knew, at some point near by, bridged the
silent horror. All about him was lit by the
starry splendor of the sky. The scent of th
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redolent grass of the great keg hun
heavily upon the air and smelt sweet in hi
nostrils. He could see the ghostly outlin
of the distant peaks of the mountains, hcould hear the haunting cries of nightfow
and coyote; but these things failed t
nterest him. Familiarity with the prairi
made them, to him, commonplace. Thpath—the secret of the great keg. That wa
he absorbing thought which occupied hi
waiting moments. He felt that it
discovery would more than compensat
for any blunders he had made. He straine
his keen eyes as he gazed at the tal
waving grass of the mire, as though to teafrom the bosom of the awful swamp th
secret it so jealously guarded. He slowl
surveyed its dark surface, almost inch b
nch, in the hopes of discovering th
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smallest indication or difference whic
might lead to the desired end.
There was nothing in what he saw to guidhim, nothing which offered the leas
suggestion of a path. In the darkness th
all waving grass took a nondescript hu
which reached unbroken for miles aroundOccasionally the greensward seemed t
ripple in the breeze, like water swayed b
a soft summer zephyr, but beyond this th
outlook was uniform—darkly mysteriou—inscrutable.
His arms cramped under the pressure o
he restraining bonds and he moveuneasily. Now and again the rustling of th
eaves overhead caused him to liste
keenly. Gradually his fancy becam
slightly distorted, and, as time passed, th
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sounds which had struck so familiarl
upon his ears, and which had hithert
passed unheeded, began to get upon hi
nerves.
By-and-by he found himself listenin
eagerly for the monotonous repetition o
he prairie scavenger's dismal howl, anas the cries recurred they seemed to grow
n power and become more plaintivel
horrible. Now, too, the sighing of th
breeze drew more keen attention from thmprisoned man, and fancy magnified i
nto the sound of many approaching fee
These matters were the effect of solitude
At such times nerves play curious pranks.
n spite of his position, in spite of hi
anxiety of mind, the police-officer bega
o grow drowsy. The long night's vigi
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was telling, and nature rebelled, as sh
always will rebel when sleep is refuse
and bodily rest is unobtainable. A man
may pace his bedroom for hours with thunmitigated pain of toothache. Even whil
he pain is almost unendurable his eye
will close and he will continue hi
peregrinations with tottering gait, awakebut with most of his faculties drowsil
faltering. Horrocks found his hea
drooping forward, and, even against hi
will, his eyes would close. Time and
again he pulled himself together, only th
next instant to catch himself dozing of
again.Suddenly, however, he was electrified
nto life. He was awake now, and al
drowsiness had vanished. A sound—
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distant, rumbling, but distinct—had falle
upon his, for the moment, dulled ears. Fo
awhile it likened to the far-off growl o
hunder, blending with a steady rush owind. But it was not passing. The soun
remained and grew steadily louder. A
minute passed—then another and the
another. Horrocks stared in the directionistening with almost painful intensity. A
he rumbling grew, and the sound becam
more distinct, a light of intelligence crep
nto the prisoner's face. He heard an
recognized.
"Cattle!" he muttered, and in tha
pronouncement was an inflection of joy"Cattle—and moving at a great pace."
He was alert now, as alert as he had eve
been in his life. Was he at last going to
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discover the coveted secret? Cattl
raveling fast at this time of night, and i
he vicinity of the great keg. What could i
mean? To his mind there could only beone construction which he coul
reasonably put upon the circumstance. Th
cattle were being "hustled," and th
hustler must be the half-breed Retief.
Then, like a douche of cold water
followed the thought that he had bee
purposely made a prisoner at the edge ohe muskeg. Surely he was not to b
allowed to see the cattle pass over th
mire and then be permitted to go free
Even Retief in his wildest moments obravado could not meditate so reckless
proceeding. No, there was some subtl
purpose underlying this new developmen
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—possibly the outcome was to be fa
more grim than he had supposed. H
waited horrified, at his own thoughts, bu
fascinated in spite of himself.
The sound grew rapidly and Horrocks'
face remained turned in the direction fro
which it proceeded. He fancied, even ihe uncertain light, that he could see th
distant crowd of beasts silhouetted agains
he sky-line. His post of imprisonmen
was upon the outskirts of the bush, and hhad a perfect and uninterrupted view o
he prairie along the brink of the keg, bot
o the north and south.
t was his fancy, however, which designed
he silhouette, and he soon became awar
hat the herd was nearer than he ha
supposed. The noise had become
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continuous roar as the driven beasts cam
on, and he saw them loom towards him
black patch on the dark background of th
dimly-lit prairie. The bunch was large, buhis straining eyes as yet could make n
estimate of its numbers. He could se
several herders, but these, too, were as ye
beyond recognition.
Yet another surprise was in store for the
waiting man. So fixed had his attentio
been upon the on-coming cattle that he hanot once removed his eyes from th
direction of their approach. Now
however, a prolonged bellow to the righ
of him caused him to turn abruptly. To hiutter astonishment he saw, not fifty yard
from him, a solitary horseman leading
couple of steers by ropes affixed to thei
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horns. He wondered how long this strang
apparition had been there. The horse wa
calmly nibbling at the grass, and the ma
was quietly resting himself with elbowpropped upon the horn of his saddle. He
oo, appeared to be gazing in the directio
of the on-coming cattle. Horrocks trie
hard to distinguish the man's appearancebut the light was too uncertain to give hi
more than the vaguest idea of hi
personality.
The horse seemed to be black or very dar
brown. And the general outline of th
rider was that of a short slight man, wit
rather long hair which flowed frobeneath the brim of his Stetson hat. Th
most curious distinguishable feature wa
his slightness. The horse was big and th
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man, was so small that, as he sat astride o
his charger, he looked to be little mor
han a boy of fifteen or sixteen.
Horrocks's survey was cut short, however
for now the herd of cattle was tearin
down upon him at a desperate racing pace
He saw the solitary rider gather up hiines and move his horse further awa
from the edge of the muskeg. Then the her
of cattle came along. They raced past th
bluff where the officer was stationedaccompanied by four swarthy drivers, on
of which was mounted upon a grea
chestnut horse whose magnificent strid
and proportions fixed the captive'attention. He had heard of "Golde
Eagle," and he had no doubt in his min
hat this was he and the rider was th
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celebrated cattle-thief. The band and it
drovers swept by, and Horrocks estimated
hat the cattle numbered many hundreds.
After awhile he heard the sound of voices
Then the beasts were driven back agai
over their tracks, only at a more gentl
pace. Several times the performance wagone through, and each time, as the
passed him, Horrocks noticed that thei
pace was decreased, until by the sixt
ime they passed their gait had become simple mouche, and they leisurely nippe
up the grass as they went, with bovin
unconcern. It was a masterly display o
how cattle can be handled, and Horrockforgot for a while his other troubles in hi
nterest in the spectacle.
After passing him for the sixth time th
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cattle came to a halt; and then the stranges
part of this strange scene was enacted
The horseman with the led steers, whom
by this time, Horrocks had almosforgotten, came leisurely upon the field o
action. No instructions were given. Th
whole thing was done in almost absolut
silence. It seemed as if long practice haperfected the method of procedure.
The horseman advanced to the brink of th
muskeg, exactly opposite to the blufwhere the captive was tied, and with hi
he two led steers. Horrocks held hi
breath—his excitement was intense. Th
swarthy drivers roused the tired cattle anheaded them towards the captive steers
Horrocks saw the boyish rider urge hi
horse fearlessly on to the treacherou
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surface of the keg. The now docile an
exhausted cattle followed leisurely. Ther
was no undue bustle or haste. It was
veritable "follow my leader." Where iwas good enough for the captive leader
o go it was good enough for the wear
beasts to follow, and so, as the boy ride
moved forward, the great herd followed iwos and threes. The four driver
remained until the end, and then, as th
ast steer set foot on the dreadful mire
hey too joined in the silent procession.
Horrocks exerted all his prairie instinct a
he watched the course of that silent band
He was committing to memory, as far ahe was capable, the direction of the pat
across the keg, for, when opportunit
offered, he was determined to follow up
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his discovery and attempt the journe
himself. He fancied in his own secre
heart that Retief had at last overreache
himself, and in thus giving away his secrehe was paving the way to his own capture
t was not long before the cattle and thei
drivers passed out of sight, but Horrockcontinued to watch, so that he should los
no chance detail of interest. At length
however, he found that his straining gaz
was useless, and all further interespassed out of his lonely vigil.
ow he busied himself with plans for hi
future movements, when he should oncmore be free. And in such thought the lon
night passed, and the time drew o
owards dawn.
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The surprises of the night were not ye
over, however, for just before the firs
streaks of daylight shot athwart the easter
sky he saw two horsemen returning acroshe muskeg. He quickly recognized the
as being the raider himself and the boyis
rider who had led the cattle across th
mire. They came across at a good paceand as they reached the bank the office
was disgusted to see the boy ride off in
direction away from the settlement, an
he raider come straight towards the bluff
Horrocks was curious about the boy wh
seemed so conversant with the path acros
he mire, and was anxious to havobtained a clearer view of him.
The raider drew his horse up within a few
yards of the captive. Horrocks had a goo
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view of the man's commanding, eagl
face. In spite of himself he could not hel
but feel a strange admiration for thi
awless Breed.
There was something wonderfull
fascinating and lofty in the hustler's direct
piercing gaze as, proudly disdainful, hooked down upon his discomfite
prisoner.
He seemed in no hurry to speak. Ashadowy smile hovered about his face a
he eyed the officer. Then he turned awa
and looked over to the eastern horizon. H
urned back again and drawled out greeting. It was not cordial but it wa
characteristic of him.
"Wal?"
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Horrocks made no reply. The Breed
aughed mockingly, and leant forward
upon the horn of his saddle.
"Guess you've satisfied your curiosity—
some. Say, the boys didn't handle you too
rough, I take it. I told 'em to go light."
Horrocks was constrained to retort.
"Not so rough as you'll be handled whe
you get the law about you."
"Now I call that unfriendly. Guess them'
gopher's words. But say, pard, the law
ain't got me yet. Wot d'ye think of the road
across the keg? Mighty fine trail that." Haughed as though enjoying a good joke.
Horrocks felt that he must terminate thi
nterview. The Breed had a mos
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provoking way with him. His self
satisfaction annoyed his hearer.
"How much longer do you intend to keeme here?" Horrocks exclaimed bitterly. "
suppose you mean murder; you'd better ge
on with it and stop gassing. Men of you
kidney don't generally take so much timover that sort of business."
Retief seemed quite unruffled.
"Murder? Why, man, I didn't bring you
here to murder you. Guess ef I'd a notio
hat way you'd 'a' been done neat long ago
o, I jest wanted to show you what yo
wanted to find out. Now I'm goin' to le
you go, so you, an' that skunk Lablache'l
be able to chin-wag over this night'
doin's. That's wot I'm here fer right now."
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As he finished speaking the Breed circle
Golden Eagle round behind the tree, and
bending low down from the saddle, he cu
he rope which held the policeman'wrists. Horrocks, feeling himself freed
stepped quickly from the bush into th
open, and faced about towards hi
iberator. As he did so he found himselooking up into the muzzle of Retief'
revolver. He stood his ground
unflinchingly.
"Now, see hyar, pard," said Retief
quietly, "I've a mighty fine respect for you
You ain't the cuckoo that many o' ye
mates is. You've got grit, anyway. But thaain't all you need. 'Savee's' a mighty fin
hing—on occasions. Now you nee
Savee.' I'll jest give yer a piece of advic
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right hyar. You go straight off down to
Lablache's ranch. You'll find him thar. An
pesky uncomfortable you'll find him. You
ken set him free, also his ranch boys, anwhen you've done that jest make tracks fo
Stormy Cloud an' don't draw rein till yo
git thar. Ef ever you see Retief on on
rail, jest hit right off on to another. That'good sound sense right through fur you
Say, work on that, an' you ain't like to
come to no harm. But I swear, right hyar
ef you an' me ever come to close quarter
'll perforate you—'less you git the drop
on me. An' to do that'll keep you humpin
So long, pard. It's jest gettin' daylight, ah' don't calc'late to slouch around hyar whe
he sun's shinin'. Don't go fur to forget m
advice. I don't charge nothin' fur it, but it'
good, pard—real good, for all that. S
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ong."
He swung his horse round, and befor
Horrocks had time to collect himselfmuch less to speak, he was almost out o
sight.
Half dazed and still wondering at th
strangeness of the desperate Breed'
manner he mechanically began to wal
slowly in the direction of the Foss Rive
Settlement.
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CHAPTER XXII -
THE DAY AFTER
Morning broke over a disturbed an
restless community at Foss River. Thchief residents who were not immediatel
concerned in the arrest of Retief—onl
deeply interested, and therefore skeptica
—had gone to bed over-night eager for th
morning light to bring them news. Thei
broken slumbers ceased as dayligh
broadened into sunrise, and, withouwaiting for their morning coffee, th
majority set out to gather the earlies
crumbs of news obtainable. There wer
others, of course, who were not in th
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know, or, at least, had only heard vague
rumors. These were less interested, an
herefore failed to rise so early.
Amongst the earliest abroad was Docto
Abbot. Aunt Margaret's interest was no
sufficient to drag her from her down
couch thus early, but, with truly womanlyogic, she saw no reason why the docto
should not glean for her the informatio
she required. Therefore the doctor ros
and shivered under the lightness of hisummer apparel in the brisk morning air.
The market-place, upon which the doctor'
house looked, was almost deserted whehe passed out of his door. He glanced
quickly around for some one whom h
might recognize. He saw that the door o
"Lord" Bill's shack was open, but it wa
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oo far off for him to see whether that laz
ndividual was yet up. A neche wa
eisurely cleaning up round Lablache'
store, whilst the local butcher was alreadbusy swabbing out the little shed whic
did duty for his shop. As yet there was no
other sign of life abroad, and Docto
Abbot prepared to walk across to thbutcher for a gossip, and thus wait fo
some one else to come along.
He stepped briskly from his house, for hwas "schrammed" with cold in his whit
drill clothing. As he approached th
energetic butcher, he saw a man enterin
he market-place from the southerextremity of the settlement. He paused t
ook closely at the new-comer. In
moment he recognized Thompson, one o
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he clerks from Lablache's store. H
conjectured at once that this man might b
able to supply him with the information h
desired, and so changed his direction anwent across to meet him.
"Mornin', Thompson," he said, peerin
keenly into the pale, haggard face of thmoney-lender's employee. "What's up wit
you? You look positively ill. Have you
heard how the arrest went off last night?"
There was a blunt directness about th
doctor which generally drove straight t
he point. The clerk wearily passed hi
hand across his forehead. He seemed halasleep, and, as the doctor had asserted
horoughly ill.
"Arrest, doctor? Precious little arres
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here's been. I've been out on the prairi
all night. What, haven't you heard abou
he governor? Good lor'! I don't know
what's going to happen to us all. Do yohink we're safe here?"
"Safe here? What do you mean, man?" th
doctor answered, noting the other's fearfuglances round. "Why, what ails you? Wha
about Lablache?"
Others had now appeared upon thmarket-place and Doctor Abbot saw
"Lord" Bill, dressed in a gray tweed suit
and looking as fresh as if he had jus
emerged from the proverbial bandboxcoming leisurely towards him.
"What about Lablache, eh?" replie
Thompson, echoing the doctor's questio
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ruefully. "A pretty nice thing Horrocks an
his fellows have let themselves, and us, i
for."
Bill had come up now and several other
had joined the group. They stood by an
istened while the clerk told his story. An
what a story it was too. It was vividlsanguinary, and enough to strike terror int
he hearts of his audience.
He told with great gusto of how Lablachhad been abducted. How the police horse
and the money-lender's had been stole
from the stables at the store. He dwelt o
he frightful horrors committed up at thBreed camp. How he had seen the polic
shot down before his very eyes, and h
became expansive on the fact that, with hi
own hands, Retief had carried of
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Horrocks, and how he had heard th
raider declare his intention of hangin
him. It was a terrible tale of woe, and hi
audience was thrilled and horrified"Lord" Bill alone appeared unmoved. A
close observer even might have notice
he faintest suspicion of a smile at th
corners of his mouth. The smile broadeneas the sharp doctor launched a question a
he narrator of terrible facts.
"How came you to see all this, anescape?"
Thompson was at no loss. He told how h
had been sent up by "Poker" John to finHorrocks and tell him about Lablache
How he arrived in time to see the horror
perpetrated, and how he only managed t
escape with his own life by flight, unde
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cover of the darkness, and how, pursued
by the bloodthirsty Breeds, he ha
managed to hide on the prairie, where h
remained until daylight, and then by circuitous route got back to the settlement
"I tell you what it is, doctor," he finished
up consequentially, "the Breeds are iopen rebellion, and, headed by that devi
Retief, intend to clear us whites out of th
country. It's the starting of another Rie
rebellion, and if we don't get help from thGovernment quickly, it's all up with us
That's my opinion," and he gaze
patronizingly upon the crowd, which b
his time had assembled.
"Nonsense, man," said the doctor sharply
"Your opinion's warped. Besides, you're
n a blue funk. Come on over to 'old man
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Smith's and have a 'freshener.' You wan
bucking-up. Coming, Bill?" he went on
urning to Bunning-Ford. "I want an 'eye
opener' myself. What say to a 'Collins'?"
The three moved away from the crowd
which they left horrified at what it ha
heard, and eagerly discussing anenlarging upon the sanguinary stories o
Thompson.
"Poker" John was already at the saloowhen the three reached the door of "ol
man" Smith's reeking den. The proprieto
was sweeping the bar, in a vain effort to
clear the atmosphere of the nauseatinstench of stale tobacco and drink. Joh
was propped against the bar mopping u
his fourth "Collins." He usually had
hirst that took considerable quenching i
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he mornings now. His over-nigh
potations were deep and strong. Mornin
"nibbling" had consequently become
disease with him. "Old man" Smith, with keen eye to business, systematically mixe
he rancher's morning drinks good an
strong.
Bill and the doctor were not slow t
detect the condition of their old friend
and each felt deeply on the subject. Thei
cheery greetings, however, were none thess hearty. Smith desisted in his dusty
occupation and proceeded to serve hi
customers.
"We're having lively times, John," said the
doctor, after emptying his "long sleever.
"Guess Retief's making things 'hum' i
Foss River."
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"Hum? Shout is more like it," drawle
Bill. "You've heard all the news, John?"
"I've enough news of my own," growlehe rancher.
"Been up all night. I see you've go
Thompson with you. What did Horrock
do after you told him about Lablache?" h
went on, turning to the clerk.
Bill and the doctor exchanged meanin
glances. The clerk having found a fres
audience again repeated his story. "Poker
John listened carefully. At the close of the
narrative he snorted disdainfully an
ooked from the clerk to his two friends
Then he laughed loudly. The clerk becam
angry.
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"Excuse me, Mr. Allandale, but if you
doubt my word—"
"Doubt your word, boy?" he said, whehis mirth had subsided. "I don't doubt you
word. Only I've spent most of the night up
at the Breed camp myself."
"And were you there, sir, when Horrock
was captured?"
"No, I was not. After you came to my
place and went on to the camp, I was ver
uneasy. So, after a bit, I got my 'hands
ogether and prepared to follow you up
here. Just as I was about to set out," h
went on, turning to the doctor and Bill, "
met Jacky coming in. Bless you if sh
hadn't been to see the pusky herself. You
know," with a slight frown, "that child i
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much too fond of those skulking Breeds
Well, anyway, she said everything was
quiet enough while she was there and,
urning again to Thompson, "she had seenothing of Retief or Horrocks or any of th
atter's men. We just put our head
ogether, and she convinced me that I wa
right, after what had occurred at the storeand had better go up. So up I went. We
searched the whole camp. I guess w
were there for nigh on three hours. Th
place was quiet enough. They were stil
dancing and drinking, but not a blesse
sign of Horrocks could we find."
"I expect he'd gone before you got theresir," put in Thompson.
"Did you find the bodies of the murdere
police?" asked the doctor innocently.
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"Not a sign of 'em," laughed John. "Ther
were no dead policemen, and, what'
more, there was no trace of any shooting."
The three men turned on the clerk, wh
felt that he must justify himself.
"There was shooting enough, sir; you mar
my words. You'll hear of it to-day, sure."
"Lord" Bill walked away towards th
window in disgust. The clerk annoye
him.
"No, boy, no. I'm thinking you ar
mistaken. I should have discovered som
race had there been any shooting. I dondeny that your story's true, but in th
excitement of the moment I guess you go
rattled—and saw things."
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Old John laughed and turned away. At tha
nstant Bill called them all over to th
window. The bar window overlooked th
market-place, and the front of Lablache'store was almost opposite to it.
Bill pointed towards the store as the thre
men gathered round. "Old man" Smith alsranged himself with the others.
"Look!" Bill smiled grimly.
A buckboard had just drawn up outsid
Lablache's emporium and two peopl
were alighting. A crowd had gathered
round the arrivals. There was n
mistaking one of the figures. The docto
was the first to give expression to th
hought that was in the mind of each of th
nterested spectators.
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"Where are you going?" exclaime
"Poker" John.
"To cook some breakfast.""No, no, you must come up to the ranc
with me. Let's go right over to the stor
first, and hear what Lablache has to say
Then we'll go and feed."
Bill shrugged. Then,—
"Lablache and I are not on the best oerms," he said doubtfully. He wished to
go notwithstanding his demur. Besides h
was anxious to go on to the ranch to se
Jacky. The doubt in his tone gave John hicue, and the old man refused to be denied
"Come along," he said, and linking his ar
within the other's, he led the way over t
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he store; the doctor, equally eager
bringing up the rear.
Bill suffered himself to be thus led. Hknew that in such company Lablache coul
not very well refuse him admission to hi
office. He had a decided wish to b
present when the money-lender told hiale. However, in this he was doomed to
disappointment. Lablache had alread
decided upon a plan of action.
At the store the three friends made thei
way through the crowd of curious peopl
who had gathered on the unexpected retur
of the chief actors in last night's dramahey made their way quickly round to th
back where the private door was.
Lablache was within, and with hi
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Horrocks. The heavy voice of the money
ender answered "Poker" John's summons
"Come in."He was surprised when the door opened
and he saw who his visitors were. Joh
and the doctor he was prepared for, bu
"Lord" Bill's coming was a differen
matter. For an instant he seriousl
meditated an angry objection. Then h
altered his mind, a thing which was rarwith him. After all the man's presenc
could do no harm, and he felt that to objec
o him, would be to quarrel with th
rancher. On second thoughts he wouldolerate what he considered the intrusion.
Lablache was ensconced in his baske
chair, and Horrocks was at the great man'
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desk. Neither moved as their visitor
entered. The troubles of the previous nigh
were plainly written on both men's faces
There was a haggard look in their eyesand a generally dishevelled appearanc
about their dress. Lablache in particula
ooked unwashed and untidy. Horrock
ooked less troubled, and there was strong air of determination about his face.
"Poker" John showed no niceness i
broaching the subject of his visit. Hiibations had roused him to the prope
pitch for plain speaking.
"Well, what happened to you last nightLablache? I guess you're looking about a
blue as they make 'em. Say, I thought sur
Retief was going to do for you when
heard about it."
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"Ah. Who told you about—about me?"
"Your clerk."
"Rodgers?"
"No, Thompson."
"Ah! Have you seen Rodgers at all?"
"No." John turned to the other two. "Hav
you?"
either of the men had seen the clerk, anold John turned again to Lablache.
"Why, what's happened to Rodgers?"
"Oh, nothing. I haven't seen him since
have been back—that's all."
"Well, now tell us all about last night,
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went on the rancher. "This matter is goin
o be cleared up. I have been thinking of
vigilance committee. We can't do better."
Lablache shook his great head. To the
doctor and "Lord" Bill there seemed to b
an utter hopelessness conveyed in th
motion.
"I have nothing to tell. Neither ha
Horrocks. What happened last nigh
concerns ourselves alone. You maypossibly hear more later on, but the tellin
by us now will do no good, and probabl
a lot of harm. As for your vigilanc
committee, form it if you like, but I doubhat you will do any good with it."
This refusal riled the old rancher. He wa
ust in that condition when it would tak
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ittle to make him quarrel. He was abou
o rap out an angry retort when a knoc
came at the partition door. It wa
Thompson. He had come to say that throopers had returned, and wanted to se
he sergeant. Also to say that Rodgers wa
with them. Horrocks immediately went ou
o see them, and, before John could say word, Lablache turned on him.
"Look here, John, for the present my lip
are sealed. It is Horrocks's wish. He has plan which he wishes to carry out quietly
The result of his plan largely depend
upon silence. Retief seems to hav
sources of information everywhere. Wallhave ears, man. Now, I shall be glad i
you will leave me. I—I must get cleane
up."
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John's anger died within him. He saw tha
Lablache was upset. He looked absolutel
ll. The old man's good nature would no
allow him to press this companion of hiranching life further. There was nothin
eft for him to do but leave.
As he rose to go, the money-lender unbenstill further.
"I'll see you later, John, I may then be abl
o tell you more. Perhaps it may interesyou to know that Horrocks has discovere
he path across the keg, and—he's going t
cross it. Good-by. So long, Doc."
"Very well, I shall be up at the ranch
Come along, Bill. Jacky, I expect, i
waiting breakfast for us."
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Lablache heard the old man's remark a
he latter passed out, and a bitter feeling o
resentment rose within him. He felt tha
everything was against him. His evinature, however, would not let him remai
ong desponding. He ground his teeth an
cursed bitterly. It had only wanted a fillip
such as this to rouse him from the curiouethargic hopelessness into which th
errible night's doings had cast him.
The moment the three men got away frohe store, Doctor Abbot drew attention to
he money-lender's words.
"Going to cross the keg, eh? Well, if he'really discovered the path it's certainly th
best thing to do. He's a sharp man i
Horrocks."
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"He's a fool!"
Bill's words were so emphatic that bot
men stared at him. If they were startled ahis words, they were still more startled a
he set expression of his face. Docto
Abbot thought he had never seen th
nsouciant Bill so roused out of himself.
"Why—how?"
"How? I tell you, man, that no one know
hat path except—except—Retief, and
supposing Horrocks has discovered it, i
he attempts to cross, there can only be on
result to his mad folly. I tell you what it is
he man should be stopped. It's absolut
suicide—nothing more nor less."
Something in the emphasis of "Lord" Bill'
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words kept the others silent until th
doctor left them at his home. Then as th
wo men hurried out across the prairi
owards the ranch, the conversation turneback to the events of the previous evening
At the ranch they found Jacky awaiting th
old man's return, on the veranda. She wasurprised when she saw who was wit
him. Her surprise was a pleasant one
however, and she extended her hand i
cordial welcome.
"Come right in, Bill. Gee, but you look fi
—and slick."
The two young people smiled into eac
other's faces, and no onlooker, not eve
he observant Aunt Margaret, could hav
detected the understanding which passe
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n that look. Jacky was radiant. Her sweet
dark face was slightly flushed. There wer
no tell-tale rings about her dark eyes. Fo
all sign she gave to the contrary she mighhave enjoyed the full measure of a night'
rest. Her visit to the Breed camp, or, fo
hat matter, any other adventures whic
had befallen her during the night, had lefno trace on her beautiful face.
"I've brought the boy up to feed," said ol
John. "I guess we'll get right to it. I've goa 'twist' on me that'll take considerable t
satisfy."
The meal passed pleasantly enough. Thconversation naturally was chiefl
confined to the events of the night. Bu
somehow the others did not respond ver
eagerly to the old rancher's eviden
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nterest and concern. Most of the talking—
most of the theorizing—most of th
suggestions for the stamping out of th
scourge, Retief, came from him, the othermerely contenting themselves wit
agreeing to his suggestions with a lack o
nterest which, had the old man bee
perfectly sober, he could not have failedo observe. However, he was especiall
obtuse this morning, and was too absorbe
n his own impracticable theories an
suggestions to notice the others' lack o
nterest.
At the conclusion of the meal the ranche
ook himself off down to the settlemenagain. He must endeavor to draw
Lablache, he said. He would not wait fo
him to come to the ranch.
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Jacky and Bill went out on to the veranda
and watched the old man as he set out wit
unsteady gait for the settlement.
"Bill," said the girl, as soon as her uncl
was out of earshot, "what news?"
"Two items of interest One, the very best
and the other—the very worst."
"Which means?"
"No one has the least suspicion of us; anHorrocks, the madman, intends to attemp
he passage of the keg."
"Lord" Bill jaws shut with a snap as hceased speaking. The look whic
accompanied his last announcement wa
one of utter dejection. Jacky did not repl
for an instant, her great eyes had taken o
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a look of deep anxiety as she gaze
owards the muskeg.
"Bill, can nothing be done to stop him?She gazed appealingly up into the face o
he tall figure beside her. "He is a brav
man, if foolish."
"That's just it, dear. He's headstrong and
means to see this thing through. Had
hought that he would ever dream o
contemplating such a suicidal feat aattempting that path, I'd never have let hi
see the cattle cross last night. My God! i
urns me sick to think of it."
"Hush, Bill, don't talk so loud. Do yo
hink any one could dissuade him
Lablache, or—or uncle, for instance."
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Bunning-Ford shook his head. His loo
was troubled.
"Horrocks is not the man to be turned frohis purpose," he replied. "And besides
Lablache would not attempt such a thing
He is too keen to capture—Relief," with
bitter laugh. "A life more or less wouldnot upset that scoundrel's resolve. As fo
your uncle," with a shrug, "I don't thin
he's the man for the task. No, Jacky," h
went on, with a sigh, "we must let thingake their course now. We have embarked
on this business. We mustn't weaken. Hi
blood be upon his own head."
They relapsed into silence for som
moments. "Lord" Bill lit a cigarette, an
eant himself against one of the verand
posts. He was worried at the turn event
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had taken. He had no grudge agains
Horrocks; the man was but doing his duty
But his meditated attempt he considered t
be an exaggerated sense of that dutyPresently he spoke again.
"Jacky—do you know, I feel tha
somehow the end of this business iapproaching. What the end is to be
cannot foretell. One thing, however, i
clear. Sooner or later we must run foul o
people, and when that occurs—well,hrowing his cigarette from him viciously
"it simply means shooting. And—"
"Yes, Bill, I know what you would sayShooting means killing, killing mean
murder, and murder means swinging
You're right, but," and the girl's eye
began to blaze, "before that, Lablach
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must go under. Whatever happens, Bill
before we decorate any tree with ou
bodies, if our object is not alread
obtained, I'll shoot him with my owpistol. I guess we're embarked on a gam
hat we're going to see through."
"That's so. We'll see it through. Do youknow what stock we've taken, all told
Close on twenty thousand head, and—al
Lablache's. They're snug over at 'Ba
Man's' Hollow, and a tidy fine bunch theare. The division with the boys is
wentieth each, and the balance is ours
Our share is ten thousand." He cease
speaking. Then presently he went onharking back to the subject of Horrocks. "
wish that man could be stayed. His failur
must precipitate matters. Should h
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drown, as he surely will, the whol
countryside will join in the hue and cry. I
s only his presence here that keeps th
settlers in check. Well, so be it. It's a pityBut I'm not going to swing. They'll neve
ake me alive."
"If it comes to that, Bill, you'll not balone, I guess. You can gamble your soul
when it comes to open warfare I'm wit
you, an' I guess I can shoot straight."
Bill looked at the girl in astonishment. H
noted the keen deep eyes, the set littl
mouth. The fearless expression on he
beautiful face. Her words had fairly takehis breath away, but he saw that she had
meant what she said.
"No, no, girlie. No one will suspect you
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Besides, this is my affair. You have your
uncle."
"Say, boy, I love my uncle—I love himreal well. I'm working for him, we bot
are—and we'll work for him to the last
But our work together has taught m
something, Bill, and when I cotton teaching there's nothing that can knoc
what I learn out of my head. I've jus
earned to love you, Bill. And, as th
Bible says, old Uncle John's got to taksecond place. That's all. If you go under—
well, I guess I'll go under too."
Jacky gave her lover no chance to replyAs he opened his lips to expostulate an
ook a step towards her she darted away
and disappeared into the sitting-room. H
followed her in, but the room was empty.
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He paused. Then a smile spread over hi
face.
"I don't fancy we shall go under, littlwoman," he muttered, "at least, not if I ca
help it."
He turned back to the veranda and strolle
away towards the settlement.
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CHAPTER XXIII -
THE PAW OF THE
CAT
Lablache was alone. Horrocks had lef
him to set out on his final effort t
discover Retief's hiding-place. The grea
man was eagerly waiting for his returnEvening was drawing on and the office
had not yet put in an appearance, neithe
had the money-lender received any wor
from him. In consequence he wabeginning to hope that Horrocks ha
succeeded.
All day the wretched man had bee
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ortured by horrid fears. And, as tim
passed and evening drew on, his moo
became almost a panic. The money-lende
was in a deplorable state of mind; hinerves were shaken, and he was racked b
a dread of he scarce knew what. What h
had gone through the night before ha
driven him to the verge of mentacollapse. No bodily injury could have thu
reduced him; for, whatever might hav
been his failings, physical cowardice wa
not amongst the number. Any mora
weakness which might have been his ha
been so obscured by long years of succes
and prosperity, that no one knowing hiwould have believed him to be s
afflicted. No, in spite of his presen
condition Lablache was a strong man.
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But the frightful mental torture he ha
endured at Retief's hands had told its tale
The attack of the last twenty-four hour
had been made against him alone; at leasso Lablache understood it. Retief's effort
were only in his direction; the raider ha
robbed him of twenty thousand head o
cattle; he had burnt his beautiful ranch outn sheer wantonness it seemed to th
despairing man; what then would be hi
next move if he were not stopped? Wha
else was there of his—Lablache's—tha
he Breed could attack? His store—yes—
yes; his store! That was all that was left o
his property in Foss River. And then—what then? There was nothing after tha
except, perhaps—except his life.
Lablache stirred in his seat and wheeze
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heavily as he arrived at this conclusion
His horrified thoughts were expressed i
he look of fear that was in his lashles
eyes.
His life—yes! That must be the raider'
culminating object. Or would he leave hi
hat, so that he might further torture him bburning him out of Calford. He pondere
fearfully, and hard, practical as was hi
nature, the money-lender allowed hi
magination to run riot over possibilitiewhich surely his cooler judgment woul
have scoffed at.
Lablache rose hurriedly from his chair. Ionly wanted a quarter to five. Putting hi
head through the partition doorway h
ordered his astonished clerks to close up
He felt that he could not—dare not keep
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he store open longer. Then he inspected
he private door of his office. The sprin
catch was fast. He locked his safe. All th
ime he moved about fearfully—like somhunted criminal. At last he returned to hi
seat. His bilious eyes roved over th
various objects in the room. A hunted look
was in them. His mind seemed fixed oone thought alone—the coming of Retief.
After this he grew more calm. Perhaps th
knowledge that the store was secure nowagainst any intruder helped to steady hi
nerves. Then he started—was the stor
secure? He rose again and went to th
window to put up the shutter. He gazed ouowards the Foss River Ranch, and, as h
gazed, he saw some one riding fas
owards the settlement.
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The horseman came nearer; the sigh
fascinated the great man. Now the travele
had reached the market place, and wa
coming on towards the store. Suddenly thmoney-lender recognized in the horsema
one of Horrocks's troopers, mounted on
horse from John Allandale's stable. A
wild hope leapt up in his heart. Then, ahe man drew nearer and Lablache saw th
horrified expression of his face, hop
went from him, and he feared the worst.
The clatter of hoofs ceased outside th
office door. Lablache stepped heavil
forward and threw it open. He stoo
framed in the doorway as the man gaspeout his terrible news.
"He's drowned, sir, drowned before ou
eyes. We tried, but couldn't save him. He
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would go, sir; we tried to persuade him
but he would go. No more than fifty yard
from the bank, and then down he went. H
was out of sight in two minutes. It wahorrible, sir, and him never uttered
sound. I'm going in to Stormy Cloud t
report an' get instructions. Anything I can
do, sir?"
So the worst was realized. For th
moment the money-lender could find n
words. His tongue clove to the roof of himouth. His last hope—the last barrie
between him and the man whom h
considered his arch enemy, Retief, seeme
o have been shattered. He thought not ohe horror of the policeman's drowning; h
felt no sorrow at the reckless man'
ghastly end. He merely thought of himself
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He saw only how the man's death affecte
his personal interests. At last he gurgled
out some words. He scarce knew what h
said.
"There's nothing to be done. Yes—no—
yes, you'd better go up to the Allandales,
he went on uncertainly. "They'll send rescue party."
The trooper dashed off and Lablach
securely fastened the door. Then he put thshutter over the window, and
notwithstanding that it was broad dayligh
still, he lit the lamp.
Once more he returned to his protestin
chair, into which he almost fell. To him
his last catastrophe was as the last straw
What was now to become of th
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settlement; what was to become of him
Horrocks gone; the troopers withdrawn
or, at least, without a guiding hand, wha
might Retief not be free to do while thsettlement awaited the coming of a fres
detachment of police. He impotentl
cursed the raider. The craven weakness
nduced by his condition of nervouprostration, was almost pitiable. All th
selfishness which practically monopolize
his entire nature displayed itself in hi
error. He cared nothing for others. H
believed that Retief was at war with hi
alone. He believed that the raider sough
only his wealth—his wealth which hiyears of hard work and unscrupulou
methods had laboriously piled up—th
wealth he loved and lived for—the wealt
which was to him as a god. He thought o
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all he had already lost. He counted it up i
housands, and his eyes grew wide wit
horror and despair as the figures mounte
up, up, until they represented a greafortune.
The long-suffering chair creaked unde
him as he flung himself back in it, hipasty, heavy-jowled face was ghastl
under the lash of despairing thought. Onl
a miser, one of those wretched creature
who live only for the contemplation oheir hoarded wealth, could understand th
feelings of the miserable man as he la
back in his chair.
The man who had thus reduced the money
ender must have understood his nature a
did the inquisitors of old understand th
weaknesses of their victims. For surely h
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could have found no other vulnerable spo
n the great man's composition.
The first shock of the trooper's newbegan to pass. Lablache's mind began t
balance itself again. Such a state of nerve
as was his could not last and the ma
remain sane. Possibly the thought that hwas still a rich man came to his aid
Possibly the thought of hundreds o
housands of dollars sunk in perfec
securities, in various European centersoned down the grievousness of his losses
Whatever it was he grew calmer, and wit
calmness his scheming nature reasserte
tself.
He moved from his seat and helpe
himself liberally to the whisky which wa
n his cabinet. He needed the generou
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spirit, and drank it off at a gulp. His chai
behind him creaked. He started. His ashe
face became more ghastly in its hue. H
ooked round fearfully. Then hunderstood, and he wheezed heavily. Onc
more he sat himself down, and th
warming spirit steadily did its work.
Suddenly his mind leapt forward, as i
were, from its stagnatory condition o
abject fear. It traveled swiftly, urged by a
pursuing dread over plans for the futureThe guiding star of his thought was safety
At all costs he must find safety for hi
property and himself. So long as Retie
was at large there could be no safety fohim in Foss River. He must get away. He
must get away, bearing with him the fruit
which yet remained to him of his life'
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oil. He had contemplated retiring before
His retirement from business would mea
ruin to many of those who had borrowe
from him he knew, and to those on whosproperty he held mortgages as security
But that could not be helped. He was no
going to allow himself to suffer throug
what he considered any humanitariaweakness. Yes, he would retire—ge
away from the reach of Retief and hi
companions, and—ah!
His thoughts merged into another channe
—a channel which, under the stress of hi
errors, had for the moment bee
obscured. He suddenly thought of thAllandales. Here for the instant was
stumbling block. Or should he renounc
his passion for Jacky? He drumme
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houghtfully with his finger-tips upon th
arms of his chair.
o, why should he give her up? Somethinof his old nerve was returning. He held al
he cards. He knew he could, b
foreclosing, ruin "Poker" John. Wh
should he give the girl up, and see hecalmly secured by that cursed Bunning
Ford? His bilious eyes half closed and hi
sparse eyebrows drew together in a deep
concentration of thought. Then presentlhis forehead smoothed, and his lashles
eyes gleamed wickedly. He rose heavil
o his feet and labored to and fro acros
he floor, with his beefy hands claspedbehind his back.
"Excellent—excellent," he muttered. "Th
devil could not have designed it better.
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There was a grim, evil smile about hi
mouth. "Yes, a game—a game. It wil
ickle old John, and will carry out m
purpose. The mortgages which I hold ohis property are nothing to me. Most ar
gambling debts. For the rest the interes
has covered the principal. I have seen t
hat. But he is in arrears now. Good—good. Their abandonment represents n
oss to me—ha, ha." He chuckle
mirthlessly. "A little game—a gentle
flutter, friend John, and the stakes all i
my favor. But I do not intend to lose. Oh
no. The girl might outwit me if I lost.
shall win, and on my wedding day I shalbe magnanimous—good." He unclaspe
his hands and rubbed them togethe
gleefully.
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"The uncle's consent—his persuasion. Sh
will do as he wishes or—ruin. It is capita
—a flawless scheme. And then to leav
Foss River forever. God, but I shall bglad," with a return to his nervous dread
He looked about him; eagerly, his grea
paunchy figure pictured grotesquel
beneath the pasty, fearful face.
"Now to see John," he went on, after
moment's pause. "How—how? I wish
could get him here. It would be bettehere. There would be no chance o
istening ears. Besides, there is th
whisky." He paused again thinking. "Yes,
he muttered presently. "Delay would bbad. I must not give my enemy time. A
once—at once. Nothing like doing thing
at once. I must go to John. But—" and h
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ooked dubiously at the darkened window
—"when I return it will be dark." H
picked up his other revolver and slipped i
nto his breast pocket. "Yes, yes, I amgetting foolish—old. Come along, m
friend, we will go."
He seized his hat and went to the officdoor. He paused with his hand upon th
ock, and gave one final look round, the
he turned the spring with a great show o
determination and passed out.
t was a different man who left the littl
office on that evening to the man who ha
for so many years governed the destinieof the smaller ranching world of the Fos
River district. He had truly said that h
was getting old—but he did not quit
realize how old. His enemies had don
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heir work only too well. The terribl
consequences of the night of terror were t
have far-reaching results.
The money-lender set out for the ranc
bristling with eagerness to put int
execution his hastily conceived plan.
He found the old rancher in his sanctum
He was alone brooding over the calamit
which had befallen the police-officer, and
stimulating his thought with silen"nippings" at the whisky bottle. He was i
a semi-maudlin condition when th
money-lender entered, and greeted hi
visitor with almost childish effusion.
Lablache saw and understood, and a sens
of satisfaction came to him. He hoped hi
ask would be easier than he ha
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anticipated. His evil nature rose to th
occasion, and, for the moment, his ow
roubles and fears were forgotten. Ther
was a cat-like licking of the lips as hcontemplated the pitiful picture befor
him.
"Well?" said old John, looking into theother's face with a pair of bloodshot eyes
as he re-seated himself after rising to gree
his visitor. "Well, poor Horrocks has gon
—gone, a victim to his sense of duty. guess, Lablache, there are few men woul
have shown his grit."
"Grit! Yes, that's so." The money-lendehad been about to say "folly," but h
checked himself. He did not want t
offend "Poker" John—now.
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"Yes. The poor fellow was too good fo
his work," he went on, in tones o
commiseration. "'Tis indeed a catastrophe
John. And we are the losers by it. I regrenow that I did not altogether agree wit
him when he first came amongst us."
John wagged his head. He looked to bnear weeping. His companion'
sympathetic tone was almost too much fo
his whisky-laden heart. But Lablache ha
not come here to discuss Horrocks, or, fohat matter, to sympathize with the gray
headed wreck of manhood before him. H
wished to find out first of all if anybod
was about whom his plans concerned, anhen to force his proposition upon his ol
companion. He carefully led the rancher t
alk of other things.
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"The man has gone into Stormy Cloud t
report?"
"Yes.""And who are they likely to send down i
place—ah—of the unfortunate Horrocks
hink you?"
"Can't say. I guess they'll send a good
man. I've asked for more men."
The old man roused somewhat from himaudlin state.
"Ah, that's a good move, John," said th
money-lender. "What does Jacky thinabout—these things?"
The question was put carelessly. Joh
yawned, and poured out a "tot" of whisk
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for his friend.
"Guess I haven't seen the child sinc
breakfast. She seemed to take it badlenough then."
"Thanks. Aren't you going to have one?
as John pushed the glass over to the other
"Why, yes, man. Never shirk my liquor."
He dashed a quantity of raw spirit into hi
glass and drank it off. Lablache looked owith intense satisfaction. John ros
unsteadily, and, supporting himself agains
he furniture as he went, moved over to th
French window and closed it. Then hurched heavily back into his chair again
His eyes half closed. But he roused at th
sound of Lablache's guttural tones.
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"John, old friend." Muddled as he was th
rancher started at the term. "I've come t
have a long chat with you. This morning
could not talk. I was too broken up—toooo ill. Now listen and you shall hear o
all that happened last night, and then yo
will the better be able to judge of th
wisdom of my decision."
John listened while Lablache told his tale
The money-lender embellished the fact
slightly so as the further to emphasizhem. Then, at the conclusion of the stor
of his night's doings, he went on to matter
which concerned his future.
"Yes, John, there is nothing left for me bu
o get out of the country. Mind this is no
sudden determination, but a conclusion
have long arrived at. These disastrou
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occurrences have merely hastened m
plans. I am not so young as I was, yo
know," with an attempt at lightness, "
simply dare not stay. I fear that Retief wilsoon attempt my life."
He sighed and looked for sympathy. Old
John seemed too amazed to respond. Hhad never realized that the raider's effort
were solely directed against Lablache
The money-lender went on.
"And that is why I have come to you, m
oldest friend. I feel you should be the firs
o know, for with no one else in Fos
River have I lived in such perfecharmony. And, besides, you are the mos
nterested."
The latter was in the tone of a
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afterthought. Strangely enough the careles
way in which it was spoken carried th
words well home to the rancher's muddle
brain.
"Interested?" he echoed blankly.
"Why, yes. Certainly, you are the mos
nterested. I mean from a monetary poin
of view. You see, the winding up of my
business will entail the settling up of—e
—my books."
"Yes," said the rancher, with doubtfu
understanding.
"Then—er—you take my meaning as thow—er—how you are interested."
"You mean my arrears of interest," said
he gray headed old man dazedly.
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"Just so. You will have to meet you
iabilities to me."
"But—but—man." The rancher splutterefor words to express himself. This was th
money-lender's opportunity, and he seized
t.
"You see, John, in retiring from business
am not altogether a free agent. My affair
are so mixed up with the affairs of th
Calford Trust and Loan Co. The period oone of your mortgages, for instance—th
heaviest by the way—has long expired. I
has not been renewed. The interest is i
arrears. This mortgage was arranged bme jointly with the Calford Trust and Loa
Co. When I retire it will have to be settle
up. Being my friend I have not trouble
you, but doubtless the company will hav
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no sentiment about it. As to the others—
hey are debts of honor. I am afraid thes
hings will have to be settled, John. You
will of course be able to meet them."
"God, man, but I can't," old Joh
exclaimed. "I tell you I can't," h
reiterated in a despairing voice.
Lablache shrugged his obese shoulders.
"That is unfortunate."
"But, Lablache," said the rancher, gazin
with drunken earnestness into the other'
face, "you will not press me?"
"Why no, John, of course not—as far as
am personally concerned. I have know
you too long and have too much regard fo
you and—yours. No, no, John; of course
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am a business man, but I am still you
friend. Friend—eh, John—your friend."
The rancher looked relieved, and helpehimself to more whisky. Lablache joined
him and they silently drank. "Poker" Joh
set his empty glass down first.
"Now Lablache, about these lia
iabilities," he said with a hiccup. "Wha
s to be done?"
"Well, John, we are friends of such old
standing that I don't like to retire fro
business and leave you inconvenienced b
he process. Perhaps there is a way b
which I can help you. I am very wealthy—
and wealth is a great power—a very grea
power even in this wild region. Now
suppose I make a proposition to you."
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CHAPTER XXIV -
"POKER" JOHN
ACCEPTS
"Ah!"
There was a tone of drunken suspicio
about the exclamation which was not loson Lablache.
"If you were suddenly called upon to mee
your liabilities to me, John," said thmoney-lender, smiling, "how would it fi
you?"
"It would mean ruin," replied John
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hoarsely.
Lablache cleared his throat and snorted
Then he smiled benignly upon his olcompanion.
"That's just what I thought. Well, you're
not going to be ruined—by me. I'm goin
o burn the mortgages and settle with th
Calford Trust and Loan Co. myself—"
The rancher feared to trust his ears.
"That is if you are willing to do somethin
for me."
n his eager hope John Allandale had leanforward so as not to miss a word the othe
said. Now, however, he threw himsel
back in his chair. Some suspicion was i
his mind. It might have been intuition. H
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knew Lablache well. He laughe
cynically.
"That's more like you," he said roughly."One moment," said the money-lender; th
smile vanished from his lips. "Fair play'
good medicine. We'll wipe out your debt
f you'll tell your niece that you want he
o marry me."
"I'll—I'll—"
"Hold on, John," with upraised hand, a
he old man purpled with rage and starte
o shout.
"I'll see you damned first!" The ranche
had lurched on to his feet and his fist cam
down with a crash upon the corner of th
able. Lablache remained unmoved.
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"Tut tut, man; now listen to me." The old
man towered unsteadily over him. "I can
understand your antipathy to me as
husband for your niece. Give your consen—she'll do it for you—and, on m
wedding day, I burn those mortgages and
'll settle 100,000 dollars upon Jacky
Besides this I'll put 200,000 dollars intyour ranch to develop it, and only ask te
per cent, of the profits. Can I speak fairer
That girl of yours is a good girl, John; to
good to kick about the prairie. I'll mak
her a good husband. She shall do as sh
pleases, live where she likes. You can
always be with us if you choose. It's nuse being riled, John, I'm making an hones
proposition."
The rancher calmed. In the face of such
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generous proposal he could not insul
Lablache. He was determined, however. I
was strange, perhaps, that any suggestio
for his influence to be used in his niece'choice of a husband should have such
violent effect upon him. But "Poker" Joh
was a curious mixture of weakness an
honor. He loved his niece with a dotinaffection. She was the apple of his eye. To
him the thought of personal benefit at th
cost of her happiness was a sacrilege
Lablache understood this. He knew that o
his point the rancher's feelings amounte
o little short of mania. And yet h
persisted. John's nature was purelobstinate, and obstinacy is weakness. Th
money-lender knew that obstinacy coul
be broken down by steady determination
However, time, with him, was now
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everything. He must clinch the deal wit
as little delay as possible if he woul
escape from Foss River and the ruinou
attacks of Retief. This thought was evepresent with him and urged him to pres
he old man hard. If John Allandale would
not be reasonable, he, Lablache, mus
force an acceptance of his terms from him
The rancher was mollified. His dulle
brain suddenly saw a loop-hole of escape
"I guess you mean well enough, Lablache
But say, ask the child yourself."
The other shook his massive head.
"I have—she has refused."
"Then why in thunder do you come t
me?"
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The angry light was again in the rancher'
bloodshot eyes.
"Why? Because she will marry me if yochoose. She can't refuse—she dare not."
"Then, by God, I'll refuse for her—"
He paused disconcertedly in his wrathLablache's cold eyes fixed him with thei
cy stare.
"Very well, John," said Lablache, with acontemptuous shrug. "You know the
nevitable result of such a hasty decision
t means ruin to you—beggary to that poo
child." His teeth snapped viciously. Thehe smiled with his mouth. "I can only pu
your de—refusal down to utter, unworth
selfishness."
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"Not selfishness, Lablache—not that.
would sacrifice everything in the worl
for that child—"
"Except your own pleasure—your ow
personal comforts. Bah, man!" wit
scathing contempt, "your object must b
plain to the veriest fool. You do not wisho lose her. You fear to lose your bes
servant lest in consequence you find th
work of the ranch thrust upon your ow
hands. You would have no time to indulgeyour love of play. You would no longer b
able to spend three parts of your time i
old man' Smith's filthy bar. Your conduc
s laudable, John—it is worthy of you."
Lablache had expected another outburst o
anger, but John only leered in response to
he other's contempt. Drunk as he was, th
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rancher saw the absurdity of the attack.
"Piffle!" he exclaimed. "Now see, whe
Jacky comes in you shall hear what shhas to say."
"Poker" John smiled with satisfaction a
his own 'cuteness. He felt that he ha
outwitted the astute usurer. His simplicity
however, was of an infantile order.
"That would be useless." Lablache did no
want to be confronted with Jacky. "M
mind is quite made up. The Calford Trus
will begin proceedings at once, unless—"
"Unless I give my consent."
The satisfaction had suddenly died out o
John Allandale's face. Even in his maudlin
condition he understood the relentles
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purpose which backed the money-lender'
proposal. To his credit be it said that he
was thinking only of Jacky—the one bein
who was dearer to him than all else in thworld. For himself he had no thought—h
did not care what happened. But he longe
o save his niece from the threatene
catastrophe. His seared old face worken his distress. Lablache beheld the sign
and knew that he was weakening.
"Why force me to extremities, John?" hsaid presently. "If you would only b
reasonable, I feel sure you would have n
matter for regret. Now, suppose I went
step further."
"No—no," weakly. There followed
pause. John Allandale avoided the other'
eyes. To the old man the silence of the
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room became intolerable. He opened hi
ips to speak. Then he closed them—onl
o open them again. "But—but what ste
do you propose? Is—is it honest?"
"Perfectly." Lablache was smiling in tha
ndulgent manner he knew so well how t
assume. "And it might appeal to youPressure is a thing I hate. Now—suppos
we leave the matter to—to chance."
"Chance?" The rancher questioned thother doubtfully.
"Yes—why not?" The money-lender'
smile broadened and he leaned forward t
mpress his hearer the more surely. "A
ittle game—a game of poker, eh?"
John Allandale shook his head. He failed
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o grasp the other's meaning.
"I don't understand," he said, strugglin
with the liquor which fogged his dulbrain.
"No, of course you don't," easily. "Now
isten to me and I'll tell you what I mean.
The money-lender spoke as thoug
addressing a wayward child. "The stake
shall be my terms against your influenc
with Jacky. If you win you keep your girland I cancel your mortgages; if I win
marry your girl under the conditions I hav
already offered. It's wholly a
arrangement for your benefit. All I capossibly gain is your girl. Whichever wa
he game goes I must pay. Saints alive—
but what an old fool I am!" He laughe
constrainedly. "For the sake of a prett
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face I'm going to give you everything—bu
here," seriously, "I'd do more to win tha
sweet child for my wife. What d'you say
John?"
There could be no doubt that Lablach
meant what he said, only he might have pu
t differently. Had he said that there wanothing at which he would stop to secur
Jacky, it would have been more in keepin
with the facts, He meant to marry the gir
His bilious eyes watered. There was sensual look in them. His heavy lip
parted and closed with a sucking smack a
hough expressing appreciation of a tast
morsel.
John remained silent, but into his eyes ha
eapt a gleam which told of the lust o
gaming aroused. His look—his whole fac
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spoke for him. Lablache had primed hi
hook with an irresistible bait. He knew hi
man.
"See," he went on, as the other remaine
silent, "this is the way we can arrange it
We will play 'Jackpots' only. The bes
seven out of thirteen. It will be a prettgame, in which, from an outsider's point o
view, I alone can be the loser. If I win
shall consider myself amply repaid. If
ose—well," with an expressivmovement of the hands, "I will take m
chance—as a sportsman should. I lov
your niece, John, and will risk everythin
o win her. Now, think of it. It will be thesweetest, prettiest gamble. And, too, thin
of the stake. A fortune, John—a fortune fo
you. And for me a bare possibility o
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realizing my hopes."
The old gambler's last vestige of hono
struggled to make itself apparent in negative movement of the head. But th
movement would not come. His thought
were of the game, and ere yet the las
words of the money-lender had ceased tsound, he was captured. The satani
cunning of the proposal was lost upon hi
sodden intellect. It was a contemptible
pitiable piece of chicanery with whicLablache sought to trap the old man int
giving his consent and assistance. Th
money-lender had no intention of losin
he game. He knew he must win. He wamerely resorting to this means because h
knew the gambling spirit of the rancher
He knew that "Poker" John's obstinac
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was proof against any direct attack; that n
persuasion would induce the consent h
desired. The method of a boxer poundin
he body of an opponent whom he knowo be afflicted with some organi
weakness of the heart is no mor
cowardly than was Lablache's proposal.
The rancher still remained silen
Lablache moved in his chair; one of hi
great fat hands rested for a moment o
John's coat sleeve.
"Now, old friend," he said, with a hoarse
whistling breath. "Shall you play—pla
he game? It will be a grand finale to thmany—er—comfortable games we hav
played together. Well? Thirteen 'Jackpots
John—yes?"
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"And—and if I consented—mind, I onl
say 'if.'" The rancher's face twitche
nervously.
"You would stand to win a fortune—and
also one for your niece."
"Yes—yes. I might win. My luck may
urn."
"It must—you cannot always lose."
"Quite right—I must win soon. It is a greaoffer—a splendid stake."
"It is."
"Yes—yes, Lablache, I will play. God
man! I will play you!"
Beads of sweat stood on John Allandale'
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forehead as he literally hurled hi
acceptance at his companion. He accepte
n the manner of one who knows he i
setting at defiance all honesty and righturged to such a course by an all-masterin
passion, which he is incapable o
resisting.
Strange was the nature of this man. H
knew himself as it is given to few wea
men to know themselves. He knew that h
wished to do this thing. He knew, alsohat he was doing wrong. Moreover h
knew that he wished to stand by Jacky an
be true to his great affection for her. H
was under the influence of potent spiritand yet his thoughts and judgment wer
clear upon the subject. His mania ha
possessed him and he would play fro
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choice; and all the while he could hear th
voice of conscience rating him. He woul
have preferred to play now, but then h
remembered the quantity of spirit he haconsumed. He must take no chances. Whe
he played Lablache he must be sober. Th
delay of one night, however, he knew
would bring him agonies of remorseherefore he would settle everything now
so that in the throes of conscience h
could not refuse to play. He feared delay
He feared the vacillation which th
solitary hours of the night might bring t
him. He leant forward and thickly urge
he money-lender."When shall it be? Quick, man, let us hav
no delay. The time, Lablache—the tim
and place."
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Lablache wheezed unctuously.
"That's the spirit I like, John," he said
fingering his watch-chain with his fahands. "To business. The place—er—
yes." A moment's thought whilst the
rancher waited with impatience. "Ah,
know. That implement shed on your fiftyacre pasture. Excellent. There is a livin
room in it. You used to keep a man there
t is disused now. It will suit u
admirably. We can use that room. And theime—"
"To-morrow, Lablache. It must be to
morrow. I could not wait longer," broke inhe other, in a voice husky with eagernes
and liquor. "After dark, when no one ca
see us going out to the shed. No one mus
know, Lablache, mind—no one. Jack
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will not dream of what we are doing."
"Very well. To-morrow, then. At eleven
o'clock at night, John. And as you say ihe meantime—mum."
Lablache was pleased with the rancher'
suggestion. It quite fell in with his ow
deas. Everything must be done quickl
now. He must get away from Foss Rive
without delay.
"Yes—yes. Mum's the word." "Poker
John indicated his approval with a
upward leer as Lablache rose from hi
chair, and a grotesque pursing of his lip
and his forefinger at the side of his nose
Then he, too, struggled to his feet, and
with unsteady hand, poured out two stif
"horns" of whisky.
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He held one out to the money-lender an
ook the other himself.
"I drink to the game," he said haltingly"May—fortune come my way."
Lablache nodded comprehensively an
slowly raised his glass.
"Fortune is yours anyhow. Therefore
rust that I win the game."
The two men silently drank. After whicLablache turned to go. He paused at th
French window and plunged his hand int
his coat pocket.
The night was dark outside, and again h
became a prey to his moral terror of th
half-breed raider. He drew out hi
revolver and opened the chamber. Th
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weapon was loaded. Then he turned to ol
John who was staring at him.
"It's risky for me to move about at nightJohn. I fear Retief has not done with m
yet. Good-night," and he passed out on t
he veranda.
Lablache was the victim of a foreboding
t is a custom to laugh at forebodings an
set them down to the vagaries of
disordered stomach. We laugh too asuperstition. Yet how often do we find tha
he portentous significance of these thing
s actually realized in fact. Lablach
dreaded Retief.
What would the next twenty-four hour
bring forth?
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CHAPTER XXV -
UNCLE AND NIECE
"Poker" John's remorse came swiftly, bu
not swiftly or strongly enough to make higive up the game. After Lablache had
aken his departure the old rancher sa
drinking far into the night. With each fres
potation his conscience became les
persistent in its protest. He sought no be
hat night, for gradually his senses left hi
and he slept where he sat, until, towarddaybreak he awoke, partially sober an
shivering with cold. Then he arose, and
wrapping himself in a heavy overcoat
flung himself upon a couch, where h
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again sought sobriety in sleep.
He awoke again soon after daylight. Hi
head was racked with pain. He, at firsthad only a dim recollection of what ha
occurred the night before. There was
vague sense of something unpleasan
having happened, but he did not attempt trecall it. He went to his bedroom an
douched himself with cold water. Then h
set out for the kitchen in search of coffe
with which to slack his burning thirst. Iwas not until he had performed hi
ablutions that the whole truth of hi
nterview with Lablache came back t
him. Immediately, now that the effect ohe liquor had passed off, he became
prey to terrible remorse.
Possibly had Jacky been at hand at tha
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moment, the whole course of events migh
have been altered. Her presence, a goo
breakfast, and occupation might hav
given him strength to carry out threjection of Lablache's challenge whic
his remorse suggested. However, none o
hese things were at hand, and Joh
Allandale set out, from force of habit, tget his morning "Collins" down at "ol
man" Smith's. Something to pull hi
ogether before he encountered his niece
he told himself.
t was a fatal delusion. "Old man" Smit
sold drink for gain. The more he sold th
better he liked it. John Allandale'"Collins" developed, as it always di
now, into three or four potent drinks. So
hat by the time he returned to the ranch fo
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breakfast his remorse was pushed wel
nto the background, and with feveris
craving he lodged for the fateful game.
n spite of his devotion to the bottle Joh
Allandale usually made a hearty breakfast
But this morning the sight of Jack
presiding at his table upset him, and heft his food almost untasted. Remors
was deadened but conscience was ye
unsilenced within him. Every time sh
spoke to him, every time he encountereher piercing gray eyes he felt himself to b
a worse than Judas. In his rough
exaggerated way he told himself that h
was selling this girl as surely as did thold slave owners sell their slaves i
bygone days. He endeavored to persuad
himself that what he was doing was for th
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best, and certainly that it was forced upo
him. He would not admit that his mania fo
poker was the main factor in hi
acceptance of Lablache's termsGradually, however, his thoughts became
ntolerable to him, and when Jacky at las
remarked on the fact that he was eatin
nothing and drinking only his coffee, hcould stand it no longer. He pushed hi
chair back and rose from the table, and
muttering an excuse, fled from the room.
Her uncle's precipitate flight alarme
Jacky. She had seen, as anybody with hal
an eye could see, that he had had a heav
night. The bleared eyes, the puffed lidshe working, nervous face were simpl
enough evidence. She knew, too, that h
had already been drinking this morning
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But these things were not new to her, only
painful facts which she was unable t
alter; but his strange behavior and lack o
appetite were things to set her thinking.
She was a very active-minded girl. It wa
not her way to sit wondering and puzzlin
over anything she could not understandShe had a knack of setting herself t
unravel problems which require
explanation in the most common-sens
way. After giving her uncle time to leavehe house—intuition told her that he woul
do so—she rose and rang the bell. The
she moved to the window while sh
waited for an answer to her summons. Shsaw the burly figure of her uncle walkin
swiftly down towards the settlement an
n the direction of the saloon.
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She turned with a sigh as a servan
entered.
"Did any one call last night while I waout?" she asked.
"Not for you, miss."
"Oh!"
"No, miss, but Mr. Lablache was here. H
was with your uncle for a long time—i
he office."
"Did he come in with Mr. Allandale?"
"Oh, no, miss, the master didn't go out. A
east not that I know of. Mr. Lablach
didn't call exactly. I think he just cam
straight to the office. I shouldn't hav
known he was there, only I was passin
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he door and heard his voice—and th
master's."
"Oh, that will do—just wait a momenhough. Say, is Silas around? Just find hi
and send him right along. Tell him to com
o the veranda."
The servant departed, and Jacky sat dow
at a writing-table and wrote a note t
"Lord" Bill. The note was brief but direc
n its tone.
"Can you see me this afternoon? Shall b
n after tea."
That was all she put, and added hestrong, bold signature to it. Silas came t
he window and she gave him the not
with instructions to deliver it into th
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hands of the Hon. Bunning-Ford.
The letter dispatched she felt easier in he
mind.What had Lablache been closeted with he
uncle for? This was the question whic
puzzled—nay, alarmed her. She had seen
her uncle early on the previous evening
and he had seemed happy enough. Sh
wished now, when she had returned fro
visiting Mrs. Abbot, that she had thougho see if her uncle was in. It had becom
such a custom for him lately to be out al
he evening that she had long ceased he
childhood's custom of saying "Goodnight" to him before retiring to bed. On
hing was certain, she felt her uncle'
strange behavior this morning was in som
way due to Lablache's visit. She meant t
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find out what that visit meant.
To this end several plans occurred to her
but in each case were abandoned aunsuitable.
"No," she murmured at last, "I guess I'l
ax him with it. He'll tell me. If Lablach
means war, well—I've a notion he'll get
hustling he don't consider."
Then she left the sitting-room that sh
might set about her day's work. She woul
see her uncle at dinner-time.
Foss River had not yet risen to th
civilized state of late dinners anndigestion. Early rising and hard wor
demanded early meals and hearty feeding
Dinner generally occurred at noon—a
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hour at which European society thinks o
aking its déjeuner . By rising late societ
can thus avoid what little fresh
wholesome air there is to be obtained in arge city. Civilization jibs at early rising
Foss River was still a wild and savag
country.
At noon Jacky came in to dinner. She had
not seen her uncle since breakfast. The ol
man had not returned from the settlemen
Truth to tell he wished to avoid his niecas much as possible for to-day. As dinner
ime came round he grew nervous an
uncomfortable, and was half inclined t
accept "old man" Smith's invitation to dinat the saloon. Then he realized that thi
would only alarm Jacky and set he
hinking. Therefore he plucked up th
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shattered remains of his moral courag
and returned to the ranch. When a ma
ooses his last grip on his self-respect h
sinks with cruel rapidity. "Poker" Johold himself that he was betraying hi
niece's affection, and with this assuranc
he told himself that he was the lowest
down cur in the country. The naturaconsequence to a man of his habit an
propensity was—drink. The one time i
his life when he should have refraine
from indulgence he drank; and with eac
drink he made the fatal promise to himsel
hat it should be the last.
When Jacky saw him swaying as he camup towards the house she could have crie
out in very anguish. It smote her to th
heart to see the old man whom she s
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oved in this condition. Yet when he
urched on to the veranda she smile
ovingly up into his face and gave no sig
hat she had any knowledge of his state.
"Come right along, uncle," she said gayly
inking her arm within his, "dinner is on
You must be good and hungry, you madesuch a poor breakfast this morning."
"Yes, child, I wasn't very well," he
mumbled thickly. "Not very well—now."
"You poor dear, come along," and she led
him in through the open window.
During the meal Jacky talked incessantlyShe talked of everything but what ha
upset her uncle. She avoided an
reference to Lablache with great care. But
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n spite of her cheerfulness, she could no
rouse the degenerate old man. Rather i
seemed that, as the meal progressed, h
became gloomier. The truth was the girl'apparent light-heartedness added to hi
self-revilings and made him feel mor
criminal than ever. He ate his food
mechanically, and he drank glass afteglass of ale.
Jacky heaved a sigh of relief when th
meal was over. She felt that she could nomuch longer have kept up her light-hearte
alk. Her uncle was about to move fro
he table. The girl stayed him with
gesture. He had eaten a good dinner anshe was satisfied. Now she woul
question him.
t is strange how a woman, in whateve
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relationship she may stand, loves to see
man eat well. Possibly she understands th
effect of a good dinner upon the man i
whom she centers her affection; possiblt is the natural maternal instinct for hi
well-being.
"Uncle, what did Lablache come to seyou for last night?"
The question was abrupt. It had the effec
of bringing the rancher back to his seawith a drunken lurch.
"Eh?" he queried, blinking nervously.
"What did he come for?" Jacky persisted.
The girl could be relentless even with he
uncle.
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The old man grasped at the suggestion.
"Yes—yes, child. It was Retief."
He kept his eyes averted. The girl was nodeceived.
"All the time?"
"Poker" John remained silent. He woul
have lied but could not.
"Uncle!"Her tone was a moral pressure. The ol
man turned for relief to his avuncula
authority.
"I must go. You've no right—question
me," he stuttered. "I refu—"
"No, uncle, you won't refuse me." The gir
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had risen and had moved round to wher
he old man sat. She fondled him lovingl
and his attempt at angry protest die
within him. "Come, dear, tell me all about. You are worried and I can help you
What did he threaten you with? I suppos
he wants money," contemptuously. "How
much?"
The old drunkard was powerless to resis
her loving appeal.
He was cornered. Another might have lied
and so escaped, but John Allandale'
weakness was such that he had not th
courage to resort to subterfuge. Moreoverhere was a faint spark of honor nickerin
deep down in his kindly heart. The girl'
affectionate display was surely fannin
hat spark into a flame. Would the flame
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grow or would it sparkle up for one brie
moment and then go out from pure lack o
fuel? Suddenly something of the truth o
he cause of her uncle's distress flasheacross Jacky's mind. She knew Lablache'
wishes in regard to herself. Perhaps sh
was the subject of that interview.
"Uncle, it is I who am causing you thi
rouble. What is it that Lablache wants o
me?" She asked the question with he
cheek pressed to the old man's face. Hiwhisky-laden breath reeked in he
nostrils.
Her question took him unawares, and hstarted up pushing her from him.
"Who—who told you, girl?" His bleare
eyes were now turned upon her, and the
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gazed fearfully into hers.
"I thought so," she exclaimed, smilin
back into the troubled face. "No one tolme, uncle, I guess that beast wants t
marry me. Say, uncle, you can tell m
everything right here. I'll help you. He'
smart, but he can't mate with me."
"But—but—" He struggled to collect hi
houghts.
"No 'buts,' dear. I've refused Lablach
once. I guess I can size up the racket h
hinks to play. Money—money! He'd lik
o buy me, I take it. Say, uncle, can't w
frolic him some? Now—what did h
say?"
"I—can't tell you, child," the old ma
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protested desperately. Then he weakened
further before those deep, steadfast eyes
"Don't—press me. Don'—press me." Hi
voice contained maudlin tears. "I'm vill'n, girl. I'm worse. Don'—look a' me—
ike that. Ja'y—Ja'y—I've—sol'—you!"
The miserable old man flung himself bacn his chair and his head bowed until hi
chin sank heavily upon his chest. Two
great tears welled into his bloodshot eye
and trickled slowly down his seared olcheeks. It was a pitiable sight. Jack
ooked on silently for a moment. Her eye
ook in every detail of that picture o
despair. She had heard the old man'words but took no heed of them. She wa
hinking very hard. Suddenly she seeme
o arrive at a decision. Her laugh rang ou
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and she came and knelt at her uncle's side
"So you've sold me, you old dear, and no
a bad thing too. What's the price?"Her uncle raised his bowed head. He
smiling face dried his tears and put fres
heart into him. He had expected bitte
nvective, but instead the girl smiled.
Jacky's task now became a simple one. A
mere matter of pumping. Sharp question
and rambling replies. Bit by bit sh
earned the story of Lablache's proposa
and the manner in which an acceptanc
had been forced upon her uncle. She di
not relinquish her task until the minutes
detail had been gleaned. At last she wa
satisfied with her cross-examination.
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She rose to her feet and passed her han
with a caressing movement over he
uncle's head, gazing the while out of th
window. Her mind was made up. Heuncle needed her help now. That help
should be his. She condoned his faults; sh
saw nothing but that which was lovable i
his weakness. Hers was now the strengto protect him, who, in the days of his bes
manhood had sheltered her from the crue
struggles of a life in the half-breed camp
for such, at the death of her impecuniou
father, must otherwise have been her lot.
ow she looked down into that worn, ol
face, and her brisk, business-like toneroused him into new life.
"Uncle, you must meet Lablache and pla
—the game. For the rest, leave it to me
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All I ask is—no more whisky to-day. Stay
right here and have a sleep. Guess yo
might go an' lie down. I'll call you fo
supper. Then you'll be fit. One thing youmust remember; watch that ugly-faced cu
when you play. See he don't cheat any. I'l
ell you more before you start out. Com
right along now and have that sleep."
The old man got up and the girl led hi
from the room. She saw him to hi
bedroom and then left him. She decidehat, for herself, she would not leave th
house until she had seen Bill. She must ge
her uncle sober before he went to mee
Lablache.
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CHAPTER XXVI - IN
WHICH MATTERS
REACH A CLIMAX
Foss River Settlement was, at the time,
very small place, and of practically n
mportance. It was brought into existenc
by the neighborhood of one or two largranches; these ranches employe
considerable labor. Foss River might b
visited by an earthquake, and, provide
he earthquake was not felt elsewhere, thworld would not be likely to hear of it fo
weeks. The newspapers of the Western
cities were in their infancy, and contented
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hemselves with the news of their ow
owns and feverish criticisms of politic
which were beyond the understanding o
heir editors. Progress in the West wavery slow—almost at a standstill.
After the death of Horrocks the police ha
withdrawn to report and to receivaugmentation. No one felt alarm at thei
absence. The inhabitants of Foss Rive
were a self-reliant people—accustome
o look to themselves for the remedy of grievance. Besides, Horrocks, they said
had shown himself to be a duffer—merel
a tracker, a prairie-man and not the man to
bring Retief to justice. Already thyounger members of the settlement an
district were forming themselves into
vigilance committee. The elders—those t
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whom the younger looked for a lead i
such matters—had chosen to go to th
police; now the younger of the settlemen
decided to act for themselves.
This was the condition and feeling in Fos
River at the time of the death of Horrocks
his was the state of affairs when thnsouciant Bill leisurely strolled into th
sitting-room at the Foss River Ranch
about the time that Joaquina Allandale had
finished her tea. With the familiarity of thWest, Bill entered by the French window
His lazy smile was undisturbed. He migh
have been paying an ordinary call instea
of answering a summons which he knewmust be a matter of emergency, for it wa
understood between these two that privat
meetings were tabooed, except whe
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necessity demanded them.
Jacky's greeting was not reassuring, bu
her lover's expression remaineunchanged, except that his weary eyelid
further unclosed.
"Guess we're side-tracked, Bill," she sai
meaningly. "The line's blocked. Signal
dead against us."
Bill looked into her eyes; then he turne
and closed the window, latching i
securely. The door was closed. His kee
eyes noted this.
"What do you mean?"
The girl shrugged.
"The next twelve hours must finish ou
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game."
"Ah!"
"Yes," the girl went on, "it is Lablache'doing. We must settle our reckoning with
him to-night."
Bill flung himself into a chair.
"Will you explain?—I don't understand
May I smoke?"
Jacky smiled. The request was s
unnecessary. She always liked Bill'
nonchalance. It conveyed such
suggestion of latent power.
"Yes, smoke, Bill; smoke and get you
hinking box in order. My yarn won't tak
a deal of time to tell. But it'll take a dea
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of thought to upset Lablache's last move
without—shootin'."
"Um—shooting's an evil, but sometimes—necessary. What's his racket?"
The girl told her story quickly. She forgo
nothing. She never allowed herself to fal
nto the womanly mistake of omittin
details, however small.
Bill fully appreciated her cleverness i
his direction. He could trust what sh
said implicitly. At the conclusion of the
story he sat up and rolled anothe
cigarette.
"And your uncle is upstairs in bed?"
"Yes, when he wakes I guess he'll need a
bracer. He'll be sober. He must play
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Lablache means to win."
"Yes, he means to win. He has had a bad
scare.""What are we going to do?"
The girl eyed her lover keenly. She saw
by his manner that he was thinking rapidly
"The game must be interrupted—wit
another scare."
"What?"
Bill shrugged and laughed.
"What are you going to do?"
"Burn him out—his store. And then—"
"And then?" eagerly.
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"Retief will be present at the game. Tel
him what has happened and—if he doesn
eave Foss River—shoot him. Mortgage
and all records of debts, etc., are in histore."
"Good."
After expressing her approval the girl sa
gazing into her lover's face. They talked
ittle longer, then Bill rose to go.
"Eleven o'clock to-night you say is th
appointed hour?"
"Yes. I shall meet you at the gate of the
fifty-acre pasture."
"Better not."
"Yes, I am going to be there," with a
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decisive nod. "One cannot be sure. You
may need me."
"Very well. Good-by, little woman."Lord" Bill bent and kissed her. The
something very like a sigh escaped him. "
hink with you this game is nearly up. To
night will settle things one way or thother."
"Yes. Trouble is not far off. Say, Bill
when it comes, I want to be with you."
Bill looked tenderly down into th
upturned face.
"Is that why you insist on coming tonight?"
"Yes."
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Another embrace and Bill left the house.
He sauntered leisurely down the avenue o
pines. He kept straight on towards thmuskeg. Then he turned away from th
settlement, and was soon lost behind th
rising ground which shored the great mire
Once out of sight of the house hquickened his pace, gradually swingin
away from the keg, and heading toward
he half-breed camp.
Foss River might have been deserted fo
all signs of life he encountered. Th
prairie was calmly silent. Not even th
call of the birds broke the stillnesaround. The heat of the afternoon ha
ulled all nature to repose.
He strode on swiftly until he came to
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small bluff. Here he halted and threw
himself full length upon the ground in
welcome shade. He was within sight o
he half-breed camp. He shifted hiposition until his head was in the sun. I
his way he could see the scattere
dwellings of the prairie outcasts. Then h
drew a small piece of looking-glass frohis pocket and held it out in the sun
Turning and twisting it in the direction o
he camp, as might a child who wishes t
dazzle a play-fellow's eyes. For severa
minutes he thus manipulated hi
mpromptu heliograph. Then, as h
suddenly beheld an answering flash in thdistance, he desisted, and returned th
glass to his pocket. Now he drew back i
he shade and composed himself to smoke
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The half-closed eyes of the recumbent ma
gazed steadily out towards the camp. H
had nearly finished his third cigarett
when his quick ears caught the sound ofootsteps. Instantly he sat up. The step
grew louder and then round the shelterin
bush came the thick-set form of Gautier
He was accompanied by an evil-lookindog which growled sulkily as it espied th
white man.
"Ugh! Hot walkin'," said the newcomerby way of greeting.
"Not so hot as it'll be to-night," said th
white man, quietly. "Sit down."
"More bonfires, boss?" said the half
breed, with a meaning grin, seatin
himself as he spoke.
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"More bonfires. See you, I want six of th
boys at Lablache's store to-night at eleve
o'clock. We are going to burn his place. I
will be quite easy. Lablache will baway, and only his clerks on the premises
The cellar underneath the building is lit b
barred windows, two under the front, an
wo under the office at the back. All youhave to do is to break the glass of th
window at the back and pour in a coupl
of gallons of coal oil. Then push in som
straw, and then light a piece of oil-soaked
rope and drop it in. The cellar is full o
cases of goods and barrels of oil. The fir
will be unextinguishable. Directly it iwell lit see that the clerks are warned. We
want no lives lost. You understand? The
stables are adjacent and will catch fir
oo. I sha'n't be there until later. Ther
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will be no risk and lots of loot. Savee?"
The cunning face of the half-breed was li
by an unholy grin. He rubbed his handwith the unctuous anticipation of a shop
walker. Truly, he thought, this white man
was a man after his own heart. He wagge
his head in approval.
"Easy—easy? It is childlike," he said i
ecstasy. "I have long thought of it, sure
An' thar is a big store of whisky thar, ehboss? Good—good! And what time wil
you come?"
"When the fire is lit. I go to deal wit
Lablache. Look you here, Gautier, yo
owe that man a grudge. You would kil
him but you don't dare. I may pay off tha
grudge for you. Pay it by a means that i
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better than killing."
"Torture," grinned the half-breed.
Bill nodded.
"Now see and be off. And don't make an
mistake, or we may all swing for it. Tel
Baptiste he must go over the keg at oncand bring Golden Eagle to my shack a
about half-past ten. Tell him to be
punctual. Now scoot. No mistakes, or—
and Bill made a significant gesture.
The man understood and hurried away
"Lord" Bill was satisfied that his order
would be carried out to the letter. Thservice he demanded of this man wa
congenial service, in so far that i
promised loot in plenty and easil
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acquired. Moreover, the criminal side o
he half-breed's nature was tickled. A
iberal reward for honesty would be les
ikely to secure good service from such aGautier than a chance of gain for shad
work. It was the half-breed nature.
After the departure of the half-breed, Bilremained where he was for some time. H
sat with his hands clasped round hi
knees, gazing thoughtfully out towards th
camp. He was reviewing his forces anmentally struggling to penetrate the pal
which obscured the future. He felt himsel
o be playing a winning game; at least, tha
his vengeance and chastisement oLablache had been made ridiculously eas
for him. But now he had come to that poin
when he wondered what must be th
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outcome of it all as regarded himself an
he girl he loved. Would his persecution
drive Lablache from Foss River to th
security of Calford, Where he would bable to follow him and still furthe
prosecute his inexorable vengeance? O
would he still choose to remain? He knew
Lablache to be a strong man, but he alsknew, by the money-lender's sudde
determination to force Jacky into marriag
with him, that he had received a scare. H
could not decide on the point. But h
nclined to the belief that Lablache mus
go after to-night. He would not spare him
He had yet a trump card to play. He wouldbe present at the game of cards, and—
well, time would show.
He threw away his mangled cigarette en
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and rose from the ground. One glance o
his keen eyes told him that no one was i
sight. He strolled out upon the prairie an
made his way back to the settlement. Hneed not have troubled himself about th
future. The future would work itself out
and no effort of his would be capable o
directing its course. A higher power thanman's was governing the actions of th
participants in the Foss River drama.
For the rest of the day "Lord" Bill moveabout the settlement in his customary idl
fashion. He visited the saloon; he showe
himself on the market-place. He discusse
he doings of Retief with the butcher, thsmith, Dr. Abbot. And, as the evening
closed in and the sun's power lessened, h
dentified himself with others as idle a
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himself, and basked in the warmth of it
feeble, dying rays.
When darkness closed in he went to hishack and prepared his evening meal wit
a simple directness which no thoughts o
coming events could upset. Bill wa
always philosophical. He ate to live, anconsequently was not particular about hi
food. He passed the evening betwee
hought and tobacco, and only a
occasional flashing of his lazy eyes gavany sign of the trend of his mental effort.
At a few minutes past ten he went into hi
bedroom and carefully locked the doorThen he drew from beneath his bed
small chest; it was an ammunition chest o
very powerful make. The small sliding li
was securely padlocked. This he opene
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and drew from within several articles o
apparel and a small cardboard box.
ext he divested himself of his own tweeclothes and donned the things he had take
from the box. These consisted of a pair o
moleskin trousers, a pair of chaps,
buckskin shirt and a battered Stetson haFrom the cardboard box he took out a ti
of greasy-looking stuff and a long blac
wig made of horse hair. Stepping to
glass he smeared his face with the greasecovering his own white flesh carefull
right down to the chest and shoulders, als
his hands. It was a brownish ocher an
urned his skin to the copperish hue of thndian. The wig was carefully adjuste
and secured by sprigs to his own fair hair
This, with the hat well jammed down upo
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his head, completed the transformation
and out from the looking-glass peered th
strong, eagle face of the redoubtable half
breed, Retief.
He then filled the chest with his ow
clothes and relocked it. Suddenly hi
quick ear caught the sound of some onapproaching. He looked at his watch; i
wanted two minutes to half-past ten. H
waited.
Presently he heard the rattle of a stic
down the featheredged boarding of th
outer walls of the hut. He picked up hi
revolver belt and secured it about hiwaist, and then, putting out the light
unlocked the back door which opened ou
of his bedroom.
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A horse was standing outside, and a ma
held the bridle reins looped upon his arm
"That you, Baptiste?""Yup."
"Good, you are punctual."
"It's as well."
"Yes."
"I go to join the boys," the half-breed saislowly. "And you?"
"I—oh, I go to settle a last account wit
Lablache," replied Bill, with a mirthlesaugh.
"Where?"
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Bill looked sharply at the man. H
understood the native distrust of th
Breed. Then he nodded vaguely in th
direction of the Foss River Ranch.
"Yonder. In old John's fifty-acre pasture
Lablache and John meet at the tool-she
here to-night. Why?"
"And you go not to the fire?" Baptiste'
voice had a surprised ring in it.
"Not until later. I must be at the meetin
soon after eleven."
The half-breed was silent for a minute. H
seemed to be calculating. At length hspoke. His words conveyed resolve.
"It is good. Guess you may nee
assistance. I'll be there—and some of th
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boys. We ain't goin' ter interfere—if thing
goes smooth."
Bill shrugged."You need not come."
"No? Nuthin' more?"
"Nothing. Keep the boys steady. Don
burn the clerks in the store."
"No.""S'long."
"S'long."
"Lord" Bill vaulted into the saddle, an
Golden Eagle moved restively away.
t was as well that Foss River was
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sleepy place. "Lord" Bill's precaution
were not elaborate. But then he knew th
ways of the settlement.
Dr. Abbot chanced to be standing in the
doorway of the saloon. Bill's shack wa
ittle more than a hundred yards away. Th
doctor was about to step across to see ihe were in, for the purpose of luring hi
friend into a game. Poker was not s
plentiful with the doctor now since Bil
had dropped out of Lablache's set.
He saw the dim outline of a horsema
moving away from the back of "Lord
Bill's hut. His curiosity was aroused. Hhastened across to the shack. He found i
ocked up, and in darkness. He turne
away wondering. And as he turned awa
he found himself almost face to face wit
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Baptiste. The doctor knew the man.
"Evening, Baptiste."
"Evening," the man growled.
The doctor was about to speak again bu
he man hurried away.
"Damned funny," the medical ma
muttered. Then he moved off towards hi
own home. Somehow he had forgotten hi
wish for poker.
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CHAPTER XXVII -
THE LAST GAMBLE
The fifty-acre pasture was situated nearl
a quarter of a mile away to the left of JohAllandale's house. Then, too, the whol
ength of it must be crossed before th
mplement shed be reached. This woul
add another half a mile to the distance, fo
he field was long and narrow, skirting a
t did the hay slough which provided th
ranch with hay. The pasture was on thsloping side of the slough, and on the to
of the ridge stretched a natural fence o
pines nearly two miles in extent.
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The shed was erected for th
accommodation of mowers, horse-rakes
and the necessary appurtenances fo
haying. At one end, as Lablache had saidwas a living-room. It was called so b
courtesy. It was little better than the rest o
he building, except that there was a craz
door to it—also a window; a rusty irostove, small, and—when a fire burned i
t—fierce, was crowded into a corner
ow, however, the stove was dismantled
and lengths of stove pipe were littere
about the floor around it. A rough bed
supported on trestles, and innocent o
bedding, filled one end of this abode; able made of packing cases, and tw
chairs of the Windsor type, one fairl
sound and the other minus a back
completed the total of rude furnitur
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necessary for a "hired man's
requirements.
A living-room, the money-lender had saidherefore we must accept his statement.
A reddish, yellow light from a dingy oi
amp glowed sullenly, and added to th
cheerlessness of the apartment. A
ntervals black smoke belched from th
chimney top of the lamp in response to th
draughts which blew through the sieveike boarding of the shed. One must fee
sorry for the hired man whose lot is cas
n such cheerless quarters.
t was past eleven. Lablache and Joh
Allandale were seated at the table. Th
urid light did not improve the expressio
of their faces.
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"Poker" John was eager—keenly eage
now that Jacky had urged him to the game
Moreover, he was sober—sober as th
proverbial "judge." Also he wasuspicious of his opponent. Jacky ha
warned him. He looked very old as he sa
at that table. His senility appeared i
every line of his face; in every movemenof his shaking hands; in every glance o
his bleared eyes.
Lablache, also, was changed slightly, but was not in the direction of age; h
showed signs of elation, triumph. He fel
hat he was about to accomplish the objec
which had long been his, and, at the samime, outwit the half-breed who had s
ately come into his life, with suc
disastrous results to his, the money
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ender's, peaceful enjoyment of his ill
gotten wealth.
Lablache turned his lashless eyes in thdirection of the window. It was a squar
aperture of about two feet in extent.
"We are not likely to be interrupted," he
said wheezily, "but it never does to
chance anything. Shall we cover th
window? A light in this room is unusua
—"
"Yes, let us cover it." "Poker" John chafed
at the delay. "No one is likely to come thi
way, though."
Lablache looked about for somethin
which would answer his purpose. Ther
was nothing handy. He drew out his grea
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bandanna and tried it. It exactly covere
he window. So he secured it. It would
serve to darken the light to any one wh
might chance to be within sight of thshed. He returned to his seat. He bulge
over it as he sat down, and its leg
creaked ominously.
"I have brought three packs of cards," h
said, laying them upon the table.
"So have I."
"Poker" John looked directly into th
other's bilious eyes.
"Ah—then we have six packs."
"Yes—six."
"Whose shall we—" Lablache began.
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"We'll cut for it. Ace low. Low wins."
The money-lender smiled at the rancher'
eagerness. The two men cut in silenceLablache cut a "three"; "Poker" John,
"queen."
"We will use your cards, John." The
money-lender's face expressed a
unctuous benignity.
The rancher was surprised, and his tell
ale cheek twitched uncomfortably.
"For deal," said Lablache, stripping on
of John's packs and passing it to hi
companion. The rancher shuffled and cu—Lablache cut. The deal went to th
atter.
"We want something to score on," the
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money-lender said. "My memorandum pa
—"
"We'll have nothing on the table, please.John had been warned.
Lablache shrugged and smiled. He seeme
o imply that the precaution wa
unnecessary. "Poker" John was i
desperate earnest.
"A piece of chalk—on the wall." Th
rancher produced the chalk and set it o
he floor close by the wall and returned t
his seat.
Lablache shuffled clumsily. His fingerseemed too gross to handle cards. And ye
he could shuffle well, and his finger
were, in reality, most sensitive. Joh
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Allandale looked on eagerly. The money
ender, contrary to his custom, deal
swiftly—so swiftly that the bleared eye
of his opponent could not follow himovements.
Both men picked up their cards. The ol
nstincts of poker were not so pronouncen the rancher as they used to be
Doubtless the game he was now playin
did not need such mask-like impassivity o
expression as an ordinary game wouldAfter all, the pot opened, it merel
became a question of who held the bes
hand. There would be no betting. John'
eyes lighted up as he glanced at the indenumerals. He held two "Jacks."
"Can you?" Lablache's husky voice raspe
n the stillness.
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"Yes."
The dealer eyed his opponent for
second. His face was that of a gravemage.
"How many?"
"Three."
The money-lender passed three card
across the table. Then he discarded tw
cards from his own hand and drew twmore.
"What have you got?" he asked, with
grim pursing of his sagging lips.
"Two pairs. Jacks up."
Lablache laid his own cards on the table
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spreading them out face upwards for th
rancher to see. He held three "twos."
"One to you," said John Allandale; and hwent and chalked the score upon the wall
There was something very business-lik
about these two men when they playe
cards. And possibly it was only natural
The quiet way in which they playe
mplied the deadly earnestness of thei
game. Their surroundings, too, wermpressive when associated with th
secrecy of their doings.
Each man meant to win, and in both wer
all the baser passions fully aroused
either would spare the other, each woul
do his utmost. Lablache was sure. Joh
was consumed with a deadly nervousness
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But John Allandale at cards was the sou
of honor. Lablache was confident in hi
superior manipulation—not play—o
cards. He knew that, bar accidents, hmust win. The mystery of being able t
deal himself "three of a kind" and eve
better was no mystery to him. H
preferred his usual method—the method o"reflection," as he called it; but in th
game he was now playing such a metho
would be useless for obvious reasons
First of all, knowing his opponent's card
would only be of advantage where bettin
was to ensue. Now he needed th
clumsier, if more sure, method of dealinhimself a hand. And he did not hesitate to
adopt it.
"Poker" John dealt The pot was no
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opened. Lablache again dealt. Still th
hand passed without the pot being opened
The next time John dealt Lablache opene
he pot and was promptly beaten. He drewo two queens and missed. John drew to
pair of sevens and got a third. The gam
was one all. After this Lablache won thre
pots in succession and the game stood fou—one, in favor of the money-lender.
The old rancher's face more than indicate
he state of the game. His features wergray and drawn. Already he saw his gir
married to the man opposite to him. For a
nstant his weakness led him to think o
refusing to play further—to defy Lablachand bid him do his worst. Then h
remembered that the girl herself ha
nsisted that he must see the game throug
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—besides, he might yet win. He forced hi
houghts to the coming hand. He was t
deal.
The deal, as far as he was concerned, wa
successful, His spirits rose.
Four—two.
Lablache took up the cards to deal. Joh
was watching as though his life depende
upon what he saw. Lablache's clums
shuffle annoyed him. The lashless eyes o
he money-lender were bent upon th
cards, but he had no difficulty i
observing the old man's attention. Thi
unusual attention he set down to a natura
excitement. He had not the smallest ide
hat the old man suspected him. He passe
he cards to be cut. The rancher cut the
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carelessly. He had a natural cut. The pac
was nearly halved. Lablache had prepare
for this.
The hand was dealt, and the money-lende
won with three aces, all of which he ha
drawn in a five-card draw. He had
discarded a pair of nines to make thheavy draw. It was clumsy, but he had
been forced to it. The position of the ace
n the pack he had known, and—well, h
meant to win.
Five—two.
The clumsiness of that deal was to
palpable. Old John suspected, but held hi
ongue. His anger rose, and the drawn fac
flushed with the suddenness of lightning
He was in a dangerous mood. Lablach
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saw the flush, and a sudden fear grippe
his heart. He passed the cards to the other
and then, involuntarily, his hand dropped
nto the right-hand pocket of his coat. Icame in contact with his revolver—an
stayed there.
The next hand passed without the pobeing opened—and the next. Lablach
was a little cautious. The next dea
resulted in favor of the rancher.
Five—three.
Lablache again took the cards. This tim
he meant to get his hand in the deal. At tha
moment the money-lender would hav
given a cool thousand had a bottle o
whisky been on the table. He had no
calculated on John being sober. H
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shuffled deliberately and offered the pac
o be cut. John cut in the same careles
manner, but this time he did it purposely
Lablache picked up the bottom half of thcut. There was a terrible silence in th
room, and a deadly purpose wa
expressed in "Poker" John's eyes.
The money-lender began to deal. In a
nstant John was on his feet and lurche
across the table. His hand fell upon th
first card which Lablache had dealt thimself.
"The ace of clubs," shouted the rancher
his eyes blazing and his body fairlshaking with fury. He turned the card over
t was the ace of clubs.
"Cheat!" he shouted.
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He had seen the card at the bottom of th
pack as the other had ceased to shuffle.
There was an instant's thrilling pauseThen Lablache's hand flew to his pocket
He had heard the click of a cockin
revolver.
For the moment the rancher's old spiri
rose superior to his senile debility.
"God in heaven! And this is how you'v
robbed me, you—you bastard!"
"Poker" John's seared face was at tha
moment the face of a maniac. He literall
hurled his fury at the money-lender, whowas now standing confronting him.
"It is the last time, if—if I swing for it
Prairie law you need, and, Hell take you
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you shall have it!"
He swung himself half round
Simultaneously two reports rang out. Theseemed to meet in one deafening pea
which was exaggerated by the smallnes
of the room. Then all was silence.
Lablache stood unmoved, his yellow
eyeballs gleaming wickedly. For a second
John Allandale swayed while his fac
assumed a ghastly hue. Then in deathlsilence he slowly crumpled up, as it were
o sound passed his lips and he sank in
heap upon the floor. His still smokin
pistol dropped beside him from hinerveless fingers.
The rancher had intended to kill Lablache
but the subtle money-lender had been to
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quick. The lashless eyes watched th
deathly fall of the old man. There was n
expression in them but that of vengefu
coldness. He was accustomed to thunwritten laws of the prairie. He knew
hat he had saved his life by a hair's
breadth. His right hand was still in hi
coat pocket. He had fired through the clotof the coat.
Some seconds passed. Still Lablache di
not move. There was no remorse in hiheart—only annoyance. He was thinkin
with the coolness of a callous nerve. H
was swiftly calculating the effect of th
catastrophe as regarded himself. It was thworst thing that could have happened t
him. Shooting was held lightly on th
prairie, he knew, but—Then he slowl
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drew his pistol from his pocket an
ooked thoughtfully at it. His cautio
warned him of something. He withdrew
he empty cartridge case and cleaned ouhe barrel. Then he put a fresh cartridge i
he chamber and returned the pistol to hi
pocket. He was very deliberate, an
displayed no emotion. His asthmaticabreathing, perhaps, might have been mor
pronounced than usual. Then he gathere
up the cards from floor and table, an
wiped out the score upon the wall. He pu
he cards in his pocket. After that h
stirred the body of his old companion wit
his foot. There was no sound from thprostrate rancher. Then the money-lende
gently lowered himself to his knees an
placed his hand over his victim's heart. I
was still. John Allandale was dead.
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t was now for the first time that Lablach
gave any sign of emotion. It was not th
emotion of sorrow—merely fear—
susperstitious fear. As he realized that theother was dead his head suddenly turned
t was an involuntary movement. And hi
fishy eyes gazed fearfully behind him. I
was his first realization of guilt. Thbrand of Cain must inevitably carry with i
a sense of horror to him who falls beneat
ts ban. He was a murderer—and he knew
t.
ow his-movements became les
deliberate. He felt that he must get awa
from that horrid sight. He rose swiftlywith a display of that agility which th
unfortunate Horrocks had seen. H
glanced about the room and took hi
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bearings. He strode to the lamp and put i
out. Then he groped his way to th
window and took down his bandanna
stealthily, and with a certain horror, hefelt his way in the darkness to the door
He opened it and passed out.
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CHAPTER XXVIII -
SETTLING THE
RECKONING
Jacky stood at the gate of the fifty-acr
pasture. She had been standing there fo
some minutes. The night was quite dark
here was no moon. Her horse, Niggerwas standing hitched to one of the fenc
posts a few yards away from her an
nside the pasture. The girl was waitin
for "Lord" Bill.
ot a sound broke the stillness of the nigh
as she stood listening. A wonderfu
calmness was over all. From her positio
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Jacky had seen the light shining throug
he window of the implement shed. Now
he shed was quite dark—the window ha
been covered. She knew that her uncle anLablache were there. She was growin
mpatient.
Every now and then she would turn heface from the contemplation of th
blackness of the distant end of the field t
he direction of the settlement, her ear
straining to catch the sound of her dilatorover's coming. The minutes passed all to
swiftly. And her impatience grew and
found vent in irritable movements an
sighs of vexation.
Suddenly her ears caught the sound o
distant cries coming from the settlemen
She turned in the direction. A lurid gleam
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was in the sky. Then, as she watched, th
glare grew brighter, and sparks shot up i
a great wreathing cloud of smoke. Th
direction was unmistakable. She knew thaLablache's store had been fired.
"Good," she murmured, with a sigh o
relief. "I guess Bill'll come right alonnow. I wish he'd come. They've been in
hat shack ten minutes or more. Why don
he come?"
The glare of the fire fascinated her, and
her eyes remained glued in the direction o
t. The reflection in the sky wa
widespread and she knew that the greabuilding must be gutted, for there was n
means of putting the fire out. Then he
houghts turned to Lablache, and sh
smiled as she thought of the surpris
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awaiting him. The sky in the distance grew
brighter. She could only see the lurid
reflection; a rising ground intervene
between her and the settlement.
Suddenly against the very heart of th
glare the figure of a horseman comin
owards her was silhouetted as he rodover the rising ground. One glanc
sufficed the girl. That tall, thin figure wa
unmistakable—her lover was hastenin
owards her. She turned to her horse andunhitched the reins from the fence post.
Presently Bill came up and dismounted
He led Golden Eagle through the gate. Thgreeting was an almost silent one betwee
hese two. Doubtless their thoughts carrie
hem beyond mere greetings. They stoo
for a second.
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"Shall we ride?" said Jacky, inclining he
head in the direction of the shed.
"No, we will walk. How long have thebeen there?"
"A quarter of an hour, I guess."
"Come along, then."
They walked down the pasture leadin
heir two horses.
"I see no light," said Bill, looking straigh
ahead of him.
"It is covered—the window, I mean. Wha
are you going to do, Bill?"
The man laughed.
"Lots—but I shall be guided b
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circumstances. You must remain outside
Jacky; you can see to the horses."
"P'r'aps."The man turned sharply.
"P'r'aps?"
"Yes, one never knows. I guess it's no use
fixing things when—guided b
circumstances."
They relapsed into silence and walke
steadily on. Half the distance was covere
when Jacky halted.
"Will Golden Eagle stand 'knee-haltering
Bill?"
"Yes, why?"
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"We'll 'knee-halter' 'em."
Bill stood irresolute.
"It'll be better, I guess," the girl pursued"We'll be freer."
"All right," replied Bill. "But," after
pause, "I'd rather you didn't come furtherittle woman—there may be shooting—"
"That's so. I like shootin'. What's that?"
The girl had secured her horse, Bill wa
n the act of securing his. Jacky raised he
hand in an attitude of attention and turne
her face to windward. Bill stood erect anistened.
"Ah!—it's the boys. Baptiste said the
would come."
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There was a faint rustling of grass near by
Jacky's keen ears had detected the stealin
sound at once. To others it might have
passed for the effect of the night breeze.
They listened for a few seconds longer
hen Bill turned to the girl.
"Come—the horses are safe. The boy
will not show themselves. I fancy they ar
here to watch only—me."
They continued on towards the shed. The
were both wrapt in silent thought. Neithe
was prepared for what was to come. The
were still nearly a quarter of a mile fro
he building. Its outline was diml
discernible in the darkness. And, too, now
he light from the oil lamp could be see
dimly shining through the red bandann
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which was stretched over the window.
ow the sound of "Poker" John's voic
raised in anger reached them. They stoostill with one accord. It was astonishin
how the voice traveled all that distance
He must be shouting. A sudden fea
gripped their hearts. Bill was the first tmove. With a whispered "Wait here," he
ran forward. For an instant Jacky waited
hen, on a sudden impulse, she followe
her lover.
The girl had just started. Suddenly th
sharp report of firearms split the air. Sh
came up with Bill, who had paused at thsound.
"Hustle, Bill. It's murder," the girl panted
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"Yes," and he ran forward with set face
and gleaming eyes.
Murder—and who was the victim? Bilwondered, and his heart misgave him
There was no longer any sound of voices
The rancher had been silenced. He though
of the girl behind him. Then his wholmind suddenly centered itself upo
Lablache. If he had killed the rancher n
mercy should be shown to him.
Bill was rapidly nearing the building, an
t was wrapped in an ominous silence.
For a second he again came to a stand. H
wanted to make sure. He could hea
Jacky's speeding footfalls from behind
And he could hear the stealthy movement
of those others. These were the onl
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sounds that reached him. He-went o
again. He came to the building. Th
window was directly in front of him. H
ried to look into the room but thhandkerchief effectually hid the interior
Suddenly the light went out. He knew wha
his meant. Turning away from th
window he crept towards the door. Jackhad come up. He motioned her into th
shadow. Then he waited.
The door opened and a great figure camout. It was Lablache. Even in the darknes
Bill recognized him. His heavy
asthmatical breathing must have betraye
he money-lender if there had been nother means of identification.
Lablache stepped out on to the prairi
utterly unconscious of the figure
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crouching in the darkness. He steppe
heavily forward. Four steps—that was al
A silent spring—an iron grip round th
money-lender's throat, from behind. Ashort, sharp struggle—a great gasping fo
breath. Then Lablache reeled backward
and fell to the ground with Bill hanging t
his throat like some tiger. In the fall thmoney-lender's pistol went off. There wa
a sharp report, and the bullet tore up th
ground. But no harm was done. Bill hel
on. Then came the swish of a skirt. Jack
was at her lover's side. She dragged th
money-lender's pistol from his pocket
Then Bill let go his hold and stood pantinover the prostrate man. The whole thin
was done in silence. No word wa
spoken.
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Lablache sucked in a deep whistlin
breath. His eyes rolled and he struggle
nto a sitting posture. He was gazing int
he muzzle of Bill's pistol.
"Get up!" The stern voice was unlik
Bill's, but there was nothing of the twan
of Retief about it.
The money-lender stared, but did no
move—neither did he speak. Jacky ha
darted into the hut. She had gone to lighhe lamp and learn the truth.
"Get up!" The chilling command force
he money-lender to rise. He saw befor
him the tall, thin figure of his assailant.
"Retief!" he gasped, and then stoo
speechless.
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ow the re-lighted lamp glowed throug
he doorway. Bill pointed towards th
door.
"Go inside!" The relentless pistol was a
Lablache's head.
"No—no! Not inside." The word
whistled on a gasping breath.
"Go inside!"
Cowed and fearful, Lablache obeyed thmandate.
Bill followed the money-lender into th
miserable room. His keen eyes took in thscene in one swift glance. He saw Jack
kneeling beside the prostrate form of he
uncle. She was not weeping. Her beautifu
face was stonily calm. She was jus
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ooking down at that still form, that draw
gray face, the staring eyes and droppe
aw. Bill saw and understood. Lablach
might expect no mercy.
The murderer himself was now looking i
he direction of—but not at—the body o
his victim. He was gazing with eyes whicexpressed horrified amazement at the sigh
of the crouching figure of Jacky Allandale
He was trying to fathom the meaning o
her association with Retief.
Bill closed the door. Now he cam
forward towards the table, alway
keeping Lablache in front of him.
"Is he dead?" Bill's voice was solemn.
Jacky looked up. There was a look as o
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stone in her somber eyes.
"He is dead—dead."
"Ah! For the moment we will leave thdead. Come, let us deal with the living. I
s time for a final reckoning."
There was a deadly chill in the tone oBill's voice—a chill which was infinitel
more dreadful to Lablache's ears tha
could any passionate outburst have been.
The door opened gently. No one noticed
t, so absorbed were they in the ghastl
matter before them. Wider the door swun
and several dusky faces appeared in thopening.
The money-lender stood motionless. Hi
gaze ignored the dead. He watched th
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iving. He wondered what "Lord" Bill'
preamble portended. He shook himsel
ike one rousing from some dreadfu
nightmare. He summoned his courage anried to face the consequences of his ac
with an outward calm. Struggle as h
might a deadly fear was ever present.
t was not the actual fear of death—it wa
he moral dread of something intangible
He feared at that moment not that whic
was to come. It was the presence of thdusky-visaged raider and—the girl. H
feared mostly the icy look on Jacky's face
However, his mind was quite clear. He
was watching for a loophole of escapeAnd he lost no detail of the scene befor
him.
A matter which puzzled him greatly wa
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he familiar voice of the raider. Retief, a
he knew him, spoke with a pronounce
accent, but now he only heard the ordinar
ones of an Englishman.
Bill had purposely abandoned hi
exaggerated Western drawl. Now he
removed the scarf from his neck anproceeded to wipe the yellow grease fro
his face and neck. Lablache, with disma
n his heart, saw the white skin which ha
been concealed beneath the paint. Thruth flashed upon him instantly. And
before Bill had had time to remove hi
wig his name had passed the money
ender's lips.
"Bunning-Ford?" he gasped. And in tha
expression was a world of moral fear.
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"Yes, Bunning-Ford, come to settle hi
ast reckoning with you."
Bill eyed the murderer steadily anLablache felt his last grip on his courag
relax. A terrible fear crept upon him as hi
courage ebbed. Slowly Bill turned hi
eyes in the direction of the still kneelinJacky. The girl's eyes met his, and, in
response to some mute understandin
which passed between them, she rose t
her feet.
Bill did not speak. He merely looked a
his pistol. Jacky spoke as if answerin
some remark of his.
"Yes, this is my affair."
Then she turned upon the money-lender
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There was no wrath in her face, no ange
n her tones; only that horrid, ston
purpose which Lablache dreaded. H
wished she would hurl invective at himHe felt that it would have been better so.
"The death which you have dealt to tha
poor old man is too good for you—murderer," she said, her deep, sombe
eyes seeming to pass through and throug
he mountain of flesh she was addressing
"I take small comfort in the thought that hhad no time to suffer bodily pain. You
will suffer—later." Bill gazed at he
wonderingly. "Liar!—cheat!—you pollut
he earth. You thought to cozen that poorharmless old man out of his property—ou
of me. You thought to ruin him as you have
ruined others. Your efforts will avail you
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nothing. From the moment Bill discovere
he use of your memorandum pad"—
Lablache started—"your fate was sealed
We swore to confiscate your property. Foevery dollar you took from us you shoul
pay ten. But now the matter is differen
There is a justice on the prairie—a rough
honest, uncorruptible justice. And thaustice demands your life. You shal
scourge Foss River no longer. You have
murdered. You shall die!—"
Jacky was about to go further with he
nexorable denunciation when the door o
he shed was flung wide, and eigh
Breeds, headed by Gautier and Baptistecame in. They came in almost noiselessly
heir moccasined feet giving out scarcel
any sound upon the floor of the room.
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"Lord" Bill turned, startled at the sudde
apparition. Jacky hesitated. Here was
contingency which none had reckone
upon. One glance at those dark, cruefaces warned all three that these prairi
outcasts had been silent witnesses o
everything that had taken place. It was
supreme moment, and the deadly pallowhich had assumed a leadenish hue o
Lablache's face told of one wh
appreciated the horror of that silen
coming.
Baptiste stepped over to where Jack
stood. He looked at her, and then his gaz
passed to the dead man upon the floor. Hibeady, black eyes turned fiercely upon th
cowering money-lender.
"Ow!" he grunted. And his tone was th
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fierce expression of an Indian roused t
homicidal purpose.
Then he turned back to Jacky, and the looon his face changed to one of sympath
and even love.
"Not you, missie—and the white man—
no. The prairie is the land of the Bree
and his forefathers—the Red Man. Gues
he law of the prairie'll come best fro
such as he. You are one of us," he wenon, surveying the girl's beautiful face i
open admiration. "You've allus been
mostly one of us—but I take it y'are to
white. No, guess you ain't goin' ter mucyer pretty hands wi' the filthy blood o
yonder," pointing to Lablache. "Thes
hings is fur the likes o' us. Jest leave thi
skunk to us. Death is the sentence, an
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death he's goin' ter git—an' it'll b
somethin' ter remember by all wh
behold. An' the story shall go down to ou
children. This poor dead thing was oubest frien'—an' he's dead—murdered. So
his is a matter for the Breed."
Then the half-breed turned away. Seeinhe chalk upon the floor he stooped an
picked it up.
"Let's have the formalities. It is but just—
Bill suddenly interrupted. He was angry a
he interference of Baptiste.
"Hold on!"
Baptiste swung round. The white man go
no further. The Breed broke in upon hi
with animal ferocity.
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"Who says hold on? Peace, white man
peace! This is for us. Dare to stop us
an'—"
Jacky sprang between her lover and th
ferocious half-breed.
"Bill, leave well alone," she said. And
she held up a warning finger.
She knew these men, of a race to whic
she, in part, belonged. As well baulk
iger of its prey. She knew that if Bil
nterfered his life would pay the forfeit
The sanguinary lust of these human devil
once aroused, they cared little how it b
satisfied.
Bill turned away with a shrug, and he wa
startled to see that he had been noiselessl
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surrounded by the rest of the half-breeds
Had Jacky's command needed support, i
would have found it in this ominou
movement.
Fate had decreed that the final act in th
Foss River drama should come fro
another source than the avenging hands ohose who had sealed their compact i
Bad Man's Hollow.
Baptiste turned away from "Lord" Biland, at a sign from him, Lablache wa
brought round to the other side of the tabl
—to where the dead rancher was lying
Baptiste handed him the chalk and thepointed to the wall, on which had bee
written the score of old John's las
gamble.
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"Write!" he said, turning back to hi
prisoner.
Lablache gazed fearfully around. Hessayed to speak, but his tongue clove t
he roof of his mouth.
"Write—while I tell you." The Breed stil
pointed to the wall.
Lablache held out the chalk.
"I kill John Allandale," dictated Baptiste.
Lablache wrote.
"Now, sign. So."
Lablache signed. Jacky and Bill stoo
ooking on silent and wondering.
"Now," said Baptiste, with all th
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solemnity of a court official, "th
execution shall take place. Lead him out!"
At this instant Jacky laid her hand upon thhalf-breed's arm.
"What—what is it?" she asked. And fro
her expression something of the ston
calmness had gone, leaving in its place
ook of wondering not untouched wit
horror.
"The Devil's Keg!"
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CHAPTER XXIX -
THE MAW OF THE
MUSKEG
Down the sloping shore to the level of th
great keg, the party of Breeds—and i
heir midst the doomed money-lender—
made their way. Jacky and "Lord" Bill, onheir horses, brought up the rear.
The silent cortège moved slowly on, ou
on to the oozing path across the mireLablache was now beyond human aid.
The right and wrong of their determinatio
roubled the Breeds not one whit. But i
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was different with the two white people
What thoughts Bill had upon the matter h
kept to himself. He certainly felt that h
ought to interfere, but he knew how worshan useless his interference would be
Besides, the man should die. The law o
Judge Lynch was the only law for such a
he. Let that law take its course. Bill woulhave preferred the stout tree and a raw
hide lariat. But—and he shrugged hi
shoulders.
Jacky felt more deeply upon the subject
She saw the horror in all its truest lights
and yet she had flouted her lover'
suggestion that she should not witness thend. Bad and all as Lablache was—crue
as was his nature, murderer though he be
surely no crime, however heinous, coul
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deserve the fate to which he was going
She had remonstrated—urged Baptiste t
forego his wanton cruelty, to deal ou
ustice tempered with a mercy whicshould hurl the money-lender to oblivio
without suffering—with scarce time t
realize the happening. Her efforts wer
unavailing. As well try to turn an ape frots mischief—a man-eater from its mani
for human blood. The inherent love o
cruelty had been too long fostered in thes
Breeds of Foss River. Lablache had too
ong swayed their destinies with hi
ruthless hand of extortion. All the pent-up
hatred, stored in the back cells of memorywas now let loose. For all these years i
Foss River they had been forced to look t
Lablache as the ruler of their destinies
Was he not the great—the wealthy man o
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he place? When he held up his finger the
must work—and his wage was the wag
of a dog. When money was scarce amon
hem, would he not drive them starvinfrom his great store? When their childre
and women were sick, would he no
refuse them drugs—food—nourishment o
any sort, unless the money was downThey had not even the privilege of me
who owned land. There was no credit fo
he Breeds—outcasts. Baptiste and hi
fellows remembered all these things
Their time had come. They would pa
Lablache—and their score of interes
should be heavy.On their way from the shed to the muske
Lablache had seen the reflection of the fir
at his store in the sky. Gautier had take
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devilish satisfaction in telling th
wretched man of what had been done—
mouthing the details in the manner of on
who finds joy in cruelty. He rememberedpast injuries, and reveled in the money
ender's agony.
After a toilsome journey the Breeds halteat the point where the path divided int
hree. Jacky and Bill sat on their horse
and watched the scene. Then, slowly
something of Baptiste's intention waborne in upon them.
Jacky reached out and touched her lover'
arm.
"Bill, what are they going to do?"
She asked the question. But the answe
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was already with her. Her companio
remained silent. She did not repeat he
question.
Then she heard Baptiste's raucous tones a
he issued his commands.
"Loose his hands!"
Jacky watched Lablache's face in the di
starlight. It was ghastly. The whole figur
of the man seemed to have shrunk. Th
wretched man stood free, and yet mor
surely a prisoner than any criminal in
condemned cell.
The uncertain light of the stars showeonly the dark expanse of the mire upon al
sides. In the distance, ahead, th
mountains were vaguely outlined agains
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he sky; behind and around, nothing bu
hat awful death-trap. Jacky had lived al
her life beside the muskeg, but never, unti
hat moment, had she realized the awfuerror of its presence.
ow Baptiste again commanded.
"Prepare for death."
t seemed to the listening girl that
devilish tone of exultation rang in hi
words. She roused herself from he
fascinated attention. She was about to urg
her horse forward. But a thin, powerfu
hand reached out and gripped her by th
arm. It was "Lord" Bill. His hoars
whisper sung in her ears.
"Your own words—Leave well alone."
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And she allowed her horse to stand.
ow she leaned forward in her saddle an
rested her elbows upon the horn in front oher. Again she heard Baptiste speak. He
seemed to be in sole command.
"We'll give yer a chance fur yer life—"
Again the fiendish laugh underlaid th
words.
"It's a chance of a dog—a yellow dog," hpursued. Jacky shuddered. "But such
chance is too good fur yer likes. Look—
ook, those hills. See the three tall peak
—yes, those three, taller than the rest. Onstraight in front; one to the right, an' on
away to the left. Guess this path divide
right hyar—in three, an' each path head
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for one of those peaks. Say, jest one trai
crosses the keg—one. Savee? The other
end sudden, and then—the keg."
The full horror of the man's meaning now
became plain to the girl. She heaved
great gasp, and turned to Bill. Her love
signed a warning. She turned again to thscene before her.
"Now, see hyar, you scum," Baptiste wen
on. "This is yer chance. Choose yer patand foller it. Guess yer can't see it n
more than yer ken see this one we're on
but you've got the lay of it. Guess you'l
ravel the path yer choose to—the end. Iyer don't move—an' move mighty slipp
—you'll be dumped headlong into th
muck. Ef yer git on to the right path an
cross the keg safe, yer ken sling off wi'
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whole skin. Guess you'll fin' it a ticklis
ob—mebbe you'll git through. But I've
notion yer won't. Now, take yer dog'
chance, an' remember, its death if yedon't, anyway."
The man ceased speaking. Jacky saw
Lablache shake his great head. Thesomething made him look at the mountain
beyond. There were the three dimly
outlined peaks. They were clear enough t
guide him. Jacky, watching, saw thexpression of his face change. It was a
hough a flicker of hope had risen withi
him. Then she saw him turn and ey
Baptiste. He seemed to read in that cruedark face a vengeful purpose. He seeme
o scent a trick. Presently he turned agai
o the hills.
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How plainly the watching girl read th
varying emotions which beset him. H
was trying to face this chance calmly, bu
he dark expanse of the surrounding mirwrung his heart with terror. He could no
choose, and yet he knew he must do so o
—
Baptiste spoke again.
"Choose!"
Lablache again bent his eyes upon th
hills. But his lashless lids would flicker
and his vision became impaired. H
urned to the Breed with an implorin
gesture. Baptiste made no movement. Hi
relentless expression remained unchanged
The wretched man turned away to the res
of the Breeds.
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A pistol was leveled at his head and h
urned back to Baptiste. The only comfor
he obtained was a monosyllabi
command.
"Choose!"
"God, man, I can't." Lablache gasped ou
he words which seemed literally to b
wrung from him.
"Choose!" The inexorable tone sent
shudder over the distraught man. Even i
he starlight the expression of the villain'
face was hideous to behold.
Baptiste's voice again rang out on the stilnight air.
"Move him!"
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A pistol was pushed behind his ear.
"Do y' hear?"
"Mercy—mercy!" cried the distraughman. But he made no move.
There was an instant's pause. Then th
oud report of the threatening pistol ranout. It had been fired through the lobe o
his ear.
"Oh, God!"
The exclamation was forced from Jacky
The torture—the horror nearly drove he
wild. She lifted her reins as though to rido the villain's aid. Then something—som
cruel recollection—stayed her. Sh
remembered her uncle and her hear
hardened.
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The merciless torture of the Breed wa
allowed to pass.
To the wretched victim it seemed that hiear-drum must be split for the shot had lef
him almost stone deaf. The blood trickle
from the wound. He almost leapt forward
Then he stood all of a tremble as he felhe ground shake beneath him. A cold
sweat poured down his great face.
"Choose!" Baptiste followed the terrorstricken man up.
"No—no! Don't shoot! Yes, I'll go—only
—don't shoot."
The abject cowardice the great man now
displayed was almost pitiable. Bill's li
curled in disdain. He had expected tha
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his man would have shown a bold front.
He had always believed Lablache to be, a
east, a man of courage. But he did noallow for the circumstances—th
surroundings. Lablache on the safe groun
of the prairie would have faced disaste
very differently. The thought of thasucking mire was too terrible. The oil
maw of that death-trap was a thing t
strike horror into the bravest heart.
"Which path?" Baptiste spoke, waving hi
hand in the direction of the mountains.
Lablache moved cautiously forward
esting the ground with his foot as he wen
Then he paused again and eyed th
mountains.
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"The right path," he said at last, in
guttural whisper.
"Then start." The words rang out cuttinglupon the night air.
Lablache fixed his eyes upon the distan
peak of the mountain which was to be hi
guide. He advanced slowly. The Breed
followed, Jacky and Bill bringing up th
rear. The ground seemed firm and th
money-lender moved heavily forward. Hibreath came in gasps. He was panting, no
with exertion, but with terror. He could
not test the ground until his weight wa
upon it. An outstretched foot pressed ohe grassy path told him nothing. He knew
hat the crust would hold until the weigh
of his body was upon it. With every
successful step his terror increased. Wha
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would the next bring forth?
His agony of mind was awful.
He covered about ten yards in this wayThe sweat poured from him. His clothe
stuck to him. He paused for a second an
ook fresh bearings. He turned his hea
and looked into the muzzle of Baptiste'
revolver. He shuddered and turned agai
o the mountains. He pressed forward
Still the ground was firm. But this gavhim no hope. Suddenly a frightful horro
swept over him. It was something fresh; h
had not thought of it before. The fact wa
strange, but it was so. The path—had haken the wrong one? He had made hi
selection at haphazard and he knew tha
here was no turning back. Baptiste ha
said so and he had seen his resolv
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written in his face. A conviction stole
over him that he was on the wrong path
He knew he was. He must be. Of course i
was only natural. The center path must bhe main one. He stood still. He coul
have cried out in his mental agony. Again
he turned—and saw the pistol.
He put his foot out. The ground tremble
at his touch. He drew back with a gurglin
cry. He turned and tried another spot. I
was firm until his weight rested upon itThen it shook. He sought to return to th
spot he had left. But now he could not b
sure. His mind was uncertain. Suddenly h
gave a jump. He felt the ground solibeneath him as he alighted. His face wa
streaming. He passed his hand across it i
a dazed way. His terror increased
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hundredfold. Now he endeavored to tak
his bearings afresh. He looked out at th
hree mountains. The right one—yes, tha
was it. The right one. He saw the peakand made another step forward. The pat
held. Another step and his foot wen
hrough. He drew back with a cry. H
ripped and fell heavily. The ground shoounder him and he lay still, moaning.
Baptiste's voice roused him and urged hi
on.
"Git on, you skunk," he said. "Go to ye
death."
Lablache sat up and looked about. He fel
dazed. He knew he must go on. Death—
death which ever way he turned. God! di
ever a man suffer so? The name of Joh
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Allandale came to his mind and he gaze
wildly about, fancying some one ha
whispered it to him in answer to hi
houghts. He stood up. He took anothestep forward with reckless haste. H
remembered the pistol behind him. Th
ground seemed to shake under him. Hi
distorted fancy was playing tricks withim. Another step. Yes, the ground was
solid—no, it shook. The weight of hi
body came down on the spot. His foo
went through. He hurled himsel
backwards again and clutched wildly a
he ground. He shuddered and cried ou
Again came Baptiste's voice."Git on, or—"
The distraught man struggled to his feet
He was becoming delirious with terror
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He stepped forward again. The groun
seemed solid and he laughed a horrid
wild laugh. Another step and another. He
paused, breathing hard. Then he started tmutter,—
"On—on. Yes, on again or they'll have
me. The path—this is the right one. I'lcheat 'em yet."
He strode out boldly. His foot sank i
something soft He did not seem to notict. Another step and his foot sank again i
he reeking muck. Suddenly he seemed t
realize. He threw himself back an
obtained a foothold. He stood tremblingHe turned and tried another direction
Again he sank. Again he drew back. Hi
knees tottered and he feared to move
Suddenly a ring of metal pressed agains
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his head from behind. In a state of pani
he stepped forward on the shaking ground
t held. He paused, then stepped again, hi
foot coming down on a reedy tuft. It shookbut still held. He took another step. Hi
foot sunk quickly, till the soft muck oozed
round his ankle. He cried out in terror an
urned to come back.
Baptiste stood with leveled pistol.
"On—on, you gopher. Turn again an' wing yer. On, you bastard. You've chosen
yer path, keep to it."
"Mercy—I'm sinking."
"Git on—not one step back."
Lablache struggled to release his sinkin
imb. By a great effort he drew it out onl
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o plunge it into another yielding spot
Again he struggled, and in his struggle hi
other foot slipped from its reedy hold. It
oo, sank. With a terrible cry he plungedforward. He lurched heavily as he sough
o drag his feet from the viscid muck. A
every effort he sank deeper. At last he
hurled himself full length upon the surfacof the reeking mire. He cried aloud, but n
one answered him. Under his body he fel
he yielding crust cave. He clutched at th
surface grass, but he only plucked the tuft
from their roots. They gave him no hold.
The silent figures on the path watched hi
death-struggle. It was ghastly—horribleThe expression of their faces wa
fiendish. They watched with positive joy
There was no pity in the hearts of th
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Breeds.
They hearkened to the man's piteous crie
with ears deafened to all entreaty. Thesimply watched—watched and reveled i
he watching—for the terrible end whic
must come.
Already the murderer's vast proportion
were half buried in the slimy ooze, and, a
every fresh effort to save himself, he san
deeper. But the death which the Breedawaited was slow to come. Slow—slow
And so they would have it.
Like some hungry monster the muske
mouths its victims with oozing saliva
supping slowly, and seemingly revels i
anticipation of the delicate morsel o
human flesh. The watchers heard th
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gurgling mud, like to a great tongu
icking, as it wrapped round the doome
man's body, sucking him down, down. Th
clutch of the keg seemed like somethinalive; something so all-powerful—like th
wining feelers of the giant cuttle-fish
Slowly they saw the doomed man's leg
disappear, and already the slimy mucwas above his middle.
The minutes dragged along—the blac
slime rose—it was at Lablache's breastHis arms were outspread, and, for th
moment, they offered resistance to th
sucking strength of the mud. But th
resistance was only momentary. Downdown he was drawn into that insatiabl
maw. The dying man's arms canted
upwards as his shoulders were dragge
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under.
He cried—he shrieked—he raved. Down
down he went—the mud touched his chinHis head was thrown back in one las
wild scream. The watchers saw th
staring eyes—the wide-stretched, lashles
ids.
His cries died down into gurgles as th
mud oozed over into his gaping mouth
Down he went to his dreadful death, untihis nostrils filled and only his awful eye
remained above the muck. The watcher
did not move. Slowly—slowly an
silently now—the last of him disappearedOnce his head was below the surface hi
impened arms followed swiftly.
The Breeds reluctantly turned back fro
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he horrid spectacle. The fearful tortur
was done. For a few moments no word
were spoken. Then, at last, it was Baptist
who broke the silence. He looked rounon the passion-distorted faces about him
Then his beady eyes rested on th
horrified faces of Jacky and her lover. H
eyed them, and presently his gazdropped, and he turned back to hi
countrymen. He merely said two words.
"Scatter, boys."
The tragedy was over and his word
brought down the curtain. In silence th
half-breeds turned and slunk away. Thepassed back over their tracks. Each knew
hat the sooner he reached the camp again
he sooner would safety be assured. As th
ast man departed Baptiste stepped up t
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Jacky and Bill, who had not moved fro
heir positions.
"Guess there's no cause to complain o' yefriends," he said, addressing Jacky, and
eering up into her white, set face.
The girl shivered and turned away with
ook of utter loathing on her face. Sh
appealed to her lover.
"Bill—Bill, send him away. It's—it's too
horrible."
"Lord" Bill fixed his gray eyes on th
Breed.
"Scatter—we've had enough."
"Eh? Guess yer per-tickler."
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There was a truculent tone in Baptiste'
voice.
Bill's revolver was out like lightning."Scatter!"
And in that word Baptiste realized hi
dismissal.
His face looked very ugly, but he moved
off under the covering muzzle of the whit
man's pistol.
Bill watched him until he was out of sight
Then he turned to Jacky.
"Well? Which way?"
Jacky did not answer for a moment. Sh
gazed at the mountains. She shivered. I
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might have been the chill morning air—i
might have been emotion. Then she looke
back in the direction of Foss River. Dawn
was already streaking the horizon.
She sighed like a weary child, and looke
helplessly about. Her lover had neve
seen her vigorous nature so badlaffected. But he realized the terrors sh
had been through.
Bill looked at her.
"Well?"
"Yonder." She pointed to the distant hills
"Foss River is no longer possible."
"The day that sees Lablache—"
"Yes—come."
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Bill gazed lingeringly in the direction o
he settlement. Jacky followed his gaze
Then she touched Nigger's flank with he
spur. Golden Eagle cocked his ears, hihead was turned towards Bad Man'
Hollow. He needed no urging. He felt tha
he was going home.
Together they rode away across the keg.
Dr. Abbot had been up all night, as had
most of Foss River. Everybody had bee
present at the fire. It was daylight when iwas discovered that John Allandale and
Jacky were missing. Lablache had bee
missed, but this had not so much intereste
people. They thought of Retief and waite
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for daylight.
Silas brought the news of "Poker" John'
absence—also his niece's. Immediatelwas a "hue and cry" taken up. Foss Rive
bustled in search.
t was noon before the rancher was found
Doctor Abbot and Silas had set out in
search together. The fifty-acre pasture wa
Silas's suggestion. Dr. Abbot did no
remember the implement shed.
They found the old man's body. The
found Lablache's confession. Silas coul
not read. He took no stock in the writin
and thought only of the dead man. Th
doctor had read, but he said nothing. H
dispatched Silas for help.
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When the foreman had gone Dr. Abbo
picked up the black wig which Bill ha
used. He stood looking at it for a while
hen he put it carefully into his pocket.
"Ah! I think I understand something now,
he said, slowly fingering the wig. "Um—
yes. I'll burn it when I get home."
Silas returned with help. John Allandal
was buried quietly in the little piece o
ground set aside for such purposes. Thruth of the disappearance of Lablache
Jacky and "Lord" Bill was never know
outside of the doctor's house.
How much or how little Dr. Abbot knew
would be hard to tell. Possibly he guesse
a great deal. Anyway, whatever he knew
was doubtless shared with "Aunt
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Margaret. For when the doctor had
secret it did not remain his long. "Aunt
Margaret had a way with her. However
she was the very essence of discretion.
Foss River settled down after its nin
days' wonder. It was astonishing how
quickly the affair was forgotten. But thenFoss River was not yet civilized. It
people had not yet learned to worry to
much over their neighbors' affairs.
THE END
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