CHAPTER XVI--CLAWS UNSHEATHED
The heavy log walls must have muffled the shot completely, for, contraryto my expectations, no inquiring faces came poking in the door. In puredefiance, I believe, Barreau kept his place by the fire, smokingplacidly till it wore on to ten o'clock. Then Montell, pursing up hislips, put on his overcoat and left without a word. Shortly after thatCullen came in, followed by Ben Wise. They slept in the store, one ateach end. At their entrance Barreau drew the _parka_ hood about his earsand we took our departure.
The fire was down to a single charred stick, but the chill had not yetlaid hold of the air within, and we made ready for bed before thenumbing fingers of the frost made free with our persons. I stretchedmyself on my bunk and wrapped the blankets and a rabbit-skin robe aboutme, but Barreau sat on the edge of his bed, staring into the candleflame as if he sought therein the answer to a riddle.
"If those Company men made the same proposition to Montell," he brokeout suddenly, "that they made to me, it is ten to one that Montellstands ready to deliver the goods. That would account for the baldnessof that play to-night."
"You think he did mean it, then?" I had so far given Montell the benefitof the doubt, despite a growing conviction that he had stumbledpurposely.
"Why, of course; that's obvious, isn't it?" Barreau declared. "You knowhe did. Else why did you move that gun after he'd very artfullycontrived to point it my way?"
"So you were watching him, after all?" said I.
"I always watch him," he answered drily.
"I feel sure that he sees--or thinks he sees--the way clear, once I'mattended to," Barreau continued. "I've been looking for this very thing.It came to me that day we struck the pack-trail. You remember? I startedto tell you, and changed my mind."
I nodded. The incident was quite fresh in my memory--my juvenile egotismhad received a bump on that very occasion.
"It struck me with a sort of premonitory force, as I stood there lookingat those mule tracks," he went on, "that if the Company offered him thesame terms they did me he would jump at it. They offered me fortythousand dollars to get out of the game, to give them a bill of sale ofmy interest--_and they would take care of my partner_. You see? Now I'msatisfied they wouldn't incorporate that last clause in any offer toMontell. I'm not boasting when I say that from the beginning I've beenthe thorn in the Company's flesh. Every time they've locked horns withme, I've come out on top. They might offer him forty thousand, but he'dhave to guarantee them against me. And I think that performance to-nightis a sample of how he will try to clear the way."
"To put it baldly," I said. "You think he'll kill you out of hand--if hegets a chance to do it in a way that won't prove a boomerang?"
"Exactly," Barreau observed.
"Then," I suggested, and even as the words were on my tongue I stoodamazed at the ruthless streak they seemed to uncover, "why not catch himat it--and do the killing yourself. There's no law here to restrain_him_, apparently. Be your own law--if you know you're _right_."
"I can't." Barreau muttered. "Not that my conscience would ever troubleme. He's protected in a way he doesn't dream of. And he's too wary of meto lay himself liable. If anything happens it will be an accident; youknow how it would have been to-night. You, sitting right there, couldnot have declared it otherwise, no matter what your private opinionmight have been. He has pretty well calculated the chances. No, Mr.Montell is not going to put himself in any position where I'd be clearlyjustified in snuffing him out."
For a minute or so he sat silent, frowning at the candle on the tablebetween my bunk and his.
"How he would bait me," he went on presently, "if he knew that killinghim is the one thing I desire to avoid, at any cost! I hope it doesn'tcome to that. It would be only just, but I have no wish to mete outjustice to him. His miserable life is safe from me, for her sake--no,I'll be honest: for my own. I want him to live, till I can force him totell her a few truths that she will never believe except from his ownlips. I was a seven times fool for not doing that long before we reachedBenton. I could have forestalled all this. But I didn't suspect he wastolling her on--for a purpose."
He stopped again. It was not the first time that Barreau had touchedupon that theme, and always his tongue had been stricken with asemi-paralysis just short of complete revelation. In a general way itwas plain enough to me, from the verbal collisions between himself andMontell on that same subject. And though I was humanly curious enough towant the particulars at first hand, I made no effort to draw forth hisstory. Hence I was surprised when he took up the thread of theconversation where he had left off.
"One reads of these peculiar situations in books," he rested his chin inthe palms of his hands and stared abstractedly at me, "but they areseldom encountered in everyday living. I dare say the world is full ofwomen, good women, beautiful, brilliant women, that I might have won.Yet I must fall victim to an insane craving for an elfin-faced,hot-tempered sprite who will have none of me. Six or seven years ago shewas a big-eyed school-girl, with a mop of unruly hair. Then all at once,she grew up, and--and I've been the captive of her bow and spear eversince. Love--the old, primal instinct to mate! It's a brutal force, Bob,when it focuses all a man's being on one particular woman. I never toldher, but I'm sure she knew; I know she did. And she--well, a man nevercan tell what a woman thinks or feels or will do or say, or whether shemeans what she says when she says it. I don't know. But I've thoughtthat she did care--only she wouldn't admit it until I made her. She'sthe type that wouldn't give herself to even the man she loved without astruggle. And I'm just savage enough to be glad of that. I've only beenwaiting till this spring and the end of this fur deal, so that we wouldhave the wherewith to live, before I cornered her and fought it out.
"But I've waited too long, I'm afraid. You see, Montell has always beenagainst me; that is, he has secretly been cutting the ground from undermy feet since he learned that I wanted _her_. The old fool looks intohis own heart and seeing perfect bliss in an alliance with 'blood' and'money,' straightway determines that these two will insure her futurehappiness--oh, I can read him, like an open book. He'd move the heavensto bring about what he'd term 'a good match.'
"As it happens I can compare pedigrees with the best of them--GoodLord!" he broke off and laughed ironically. "That's sickening; but I'mtrying to make the thing clear. Naive recital this, I must say. Well,anyway, I measured up to the standard of breeding, but fell wofullyshort on the financial requirements. And, somehow, foxy Simon grewafraid that I was in a fair way to upset his cherished plans for Jess.This was after we'd gone in together on this fur business. He had alwaysacted rather guardedly about Jessie and myself, but I had him there; solong as she went out, I could meet her socially, and he could notprevent. Then a year ago last summer the Hudson's Bay undertook to runme out of this country. That bred the trouble on High River, and afterthat I was really outlawed. I expect he began at once to figure how hecould turn that to his advantage--regarding me as a dishtowel that hecould wring dry and throw aside. He has nursed a direct, personal grudgesince the first season. Naturally, he wanted to dominate everything, andI wouldn't let him. He thought himself the biggest toad in the puddle,and it angered him when he found himself outsplashed. He made mistakes.I corrected them, and held him down at every turn; I had to. It was aticklish job, and I made him move according to my judgment. Which was avery bitter sort of medicine for a man of Montell's domineering stamp.So he was not long in developing a rancorous dislike of me, which seemsto have thrived on concealment.
"Where I made the grand mistake was in letting him keep her from knowingthat we were partners in this business. Without giving the matter asecond thought I had kept our business strictly to myself. He hintedthat others might follow our lead, and at first we had visions of makingterms with the Hudson's Bay and building up a permanent trade here.After two or three years of this I didn't think it well to plunge intoexplanations last spring. I made a mistake there, however; the mistake,I should say. Jessie had gone out a good deal t
he last two winters, bothin St. Louis and New Orleans, and she was becoming quite a belle. Forall that, I think--oh, well, it doesn't matter what I think. To make along story short, a day or two before the _Moon_ went upstream she toldme that she was going as far as Benton with her father. I, of course hadto rise to the occasion, be very properly surprised and inform her thatI, too, contemplated a trip on that same steamer. And I straightwayhunted Montell up and tried to have him dissuade her from the journey.
"I didn't fathom the purport of it, even then--although I knew that hewould welcome any chance to put me wrong in her eyes. It was too late, Ifelt, to volunteer any details concerning my part in her father'sbusiness up North. So I contented myself with his assurance and herstatement, that she would see him as far as Benton and then return onthe _Moon_.
"You see, I could easily imagine what would be her opinion of me, if shelearned all the unsavory details with which the Northwest has beenpleased to embellish the record of Slowfoot George. She has such aprofound scorn for anything verging on dishonesty, and according to thesources of her information I've got some very shady things laid at mydoor. I can't be anything but a moral degenerate, in her eyes. Oh, heengineered it skilfully. If I had only waited at Benton till thebull-train was ready to start!
"You know how her returning panned out. I believe now, that he intendedfrom the first that she should go on to MacLeod. I'd come to theconclusion that he would knife me on the business end, and that was whyI wanted Walt Sanders with me. But it didn't occur to me that his planswere so far-reaching. That unfortunate Police raid delivered me into hishands at the psychological moment I was like a cornered rat that day shecame to the guardhouse and peered in on us through the cell door. Icouldn't help lashing back when she was so frankly contemptuous. I couldsee so clearly how he had managed it. And having accomplished hispurpose he saw to it that escape was made easy, for he still needed meup here. Mind you, it would have been pretty much the same if I had notbeen taken by the Police. He would have seen that she was well postedbefore she left MacLeod.
"The rest you have seen for yourself. She spoiled his plan a little,perhaps, by coming all the way once she had started. That wasn't hisfault; he didn't want her to come here, especially after I picked up oneof her combs that night we came to the camp, and threatened him if hedidn't send her home. She _is_ wilful. And the only way he could havekept her from coming to the Sicannie would have been to go back himself.
"If our presence here has puzzled her you may be sure he has madesatisfactory explanations. I am only biding my time. If I can hold himdown and stand off the Hudson's Bay till the furs come in, I can win outso far as the money end is concerned. And if I am to lose her, by Godhe'll pay for it! She shall know the truth if I have to choke it out ofhim one word at a time."
"It looks like a big contract," I sympathized.
He made a gesture that might have meant anything, but did not reply.Presently he reached for his tobacco. When his cigarette was lighted heblew out the candle. By the glowing red tip I could follow his movementsas he settled himself and drew the bedding about him. "Oh, Bob," headdressed me after a long interval.
"What is it?" I answered.
"If that old hound and I should get mixed up, you keep out of it.Somebody will have to see that Jess gets out of this God-forsakencountry. You're woods-wise enough to manage that now."
"Why, of course I'd do that," I replied. It was a startling prospect heheld forth. "But I hope nothing like that happens."
"Anything might happen," he returned. "We're sitting on a powder-keg. Ican't guarantee that it won't blow up. Montell is a bull-headed brute,and so am I. If he should throw a slug into me, I'd probably live longenough to return the favor."
Then, after a pause: "I've been running on like an old woman. That riflebusiness to-night jarred me like the devil. Maybe a decent night's restwill scatter these pessimistic ideas. Here goes, Robert; good-night."
With which he turned his face to the wall, and did, I verily believe, goat once to sleep. And he was still asleep, his head resting on onedoubled-up arm, when I got up and lighted the candle at seven in themorning. My slumbers had been beset by disturbing visions of violentdeeds, the by-product of what I had seen and heard that evening;Barreau, by his cheerful aspect on arising, had banished his troubleswhile he slept.
The day dawned, clear and cold and very still. It passed, and anotherfollowed, and still others, till I lost track of their number in thefrost-ridden cycle of time. Montell's momentous stumble grew to be a dimincident of the past; sometimes I was constrained to wonder if, afterall, he had done that with malice aforethought. Upon divers occasions Imet and talked with Jessie, but I did not go to the house again, untilBarreau hinted, one day, that unless I continued the intimacy I hadaccidentally begun, Montell would think I suspected him, that I wastaking Barreau's side.
"There is no use in your making an enemy of him," he said.
"Well," I replied, "I must say I don't altogether like his fatherlymanner. He makes me uncomfortable."
"Nevertheless," Barreau declared, "he has taken a fancy to you. He'shuman. And seeing it's not your fight, you'd better not break off shorton that account. Better not antagonize him. It's different with me; Ihave no choice."
Influenced more or less by Barreau's suggestion, I suppose, I foundmyself giving assent that very afternoon when Montell asked me to thecabin for supper and a session at cribbage. Over the meal and thesubsequent card-game he was so genial, so very much like other bigeasy-going men that I had known, I could scarcely credit him ascold-bloodedly scheming to defraud and, if necessary, murder anotherman. Somehow, without any logical reason, I had always associated fatmen, especially big, fat men, with the utmost good-nature, with a sortof rugged straightforward uprightness that frowned on anything thatsavored of unfair advantage. I could not quite fathom Mr. SimonMontell--nor George Barreau, either, so far as that goes.
Shortly after that, at the close of an exceeding bitter day, an Indiancame striding down the Sicannie to the post. When the guard at the biggate let him in his first word was for the "White Chief," as Barreau wasknown among the men of the lodges. Ben Wise came shouting this at thedoor of our cabin, and we followed Ben to the store. The Indian shookhands with Barreau. Then he drew his blanket coat closer about him anddelivered himself of a few short guttural sentences. Barreau stoodlooking rather thoughtful when the copper-skinned one had finished. Heasked a few questions in the native tongue, receiving answers as brief.And after another period of consideration he turned to me.
"Crow Feathers is sick," he said. "Pneumonia, I should judge, by thisfellow's description of the symptoms. The chances are good that he'll bedead by the time I get there--if he isn't already. The medicine mancan't help him, so old Three Wolves has sent for me, out of his sublimefaith in my ability to do anything. I can't help him, but I'll have togo, as a matter of policy. Do you want to come along, Bob? It won't be along jaunt, and it will give you some real snowshoe practice."
I embraced the opportunity without giving him a chance to reconsiderwhich he showed signs of doing later in the evening. Curiously enoughMontell also attempted to dissuade me from the trip.
"What's the use?" he argued. "You'll likely get your fingers or yourfeet frozen. It's a blamed poor time of the year to go trapesin' aroundthe country. You better stay here where there's houses and fires."
The cold and other disagreeable elements didn't look formidable enoughto deter me, however; I wanted something to break the monotony. A tripto Three Wolves' camp in mid-winter appealed very strongly to me, and Iturned a deaf ear to Montell's advice, and held Barreau strictly to theproposal which he evinced a desire to withdraw.
That evening we got the dog harness ready, and rigged up a toboggan forthe trail, loading it with food, bedding, and a small, light tent. Twohours before daybreak we started. There was a moon, and the land spreadaway boldly under the silver flood, like a great, ghostly study in blackand white.
All that day our Indian led us up the Sicanni
e. There was no need to useour snowshoes or to "break" trail, for we kept to the ice, and itscovering of snow was packed smooth and hard as a macadam roadway. Bygrace of an early start and steady jogging we traversed a distance thatwas really a two days' journey, and at dusk the lodges of Three Wolves'band loomed in the edge of a spruce grove. Then our Indian shook handswith Barreau and me, and swung off to the right.
"He says his lodge is over there in a draw," Barreau told me, when Iasked the reason for that.
The dogs of the camp greeted us with shrill yapping, and two or threeIndians came out. They scattered the yelping huskies with swiftly thrownpieces of firewood, and greeted Barreau gravely. After a mutual exchangeof words Barreau vented a sharp exclamation.
"The devil!" he said, and followed this by stripping the harness fromthe dogs.
"What now?" I asked, as I bent over the leader's collar.
"You'll see in a minute," he answered briefly, and there was an angryring in his voice.
The dogs freed and the toboggan turned on its side, he led the way to alodge pointed out by one of the hunters. A head protruded. It waswithdrawn as we approached, and some one within called out in Cree. Andwhen we had inserted ourselves through the circular opening I echoedBarreau's exclamation. For sitting beside the fire which burnedcheerfully in the center, was Crow Feathers himself, smoking his pipelike a man in the best of health. Nor was there any suggestion ofillness in the voice he lifted up at our entrance. Barreau fired aquestion or two at him, and a look of mild interest overspread CrowFeathers' aquiline face as he answered.
"It was a plant all the way through," Barreau declared, sitting down andslipping off his mitts. "Three Wolves sent no message to me. CrowFeathers never was sick in his life."
"I wonder who's responsible?" said I. "Do Indians ever play practicaljokes?"
He shrugged his shoulders at the suggestion. Crow Feathers' squaw pusheda pot of boiled venison before us, and some bannock, and we fell uponthat in earnest. Not till we had finished and were fumbling for tobacco_did_ Barreau refer to our wild-goose chase again.
"I'd like to have speech with that red gentleman who led us up here," hesaid grimly. "It may be that Mr. Montell has unsheathed his claws inearnest. If he has, I'll clip them, and clip them short."