CHAPTER XXVI
IN WHICH MATTERS REACH A CLIMAX
Foss River Settlement was, at the time, a very small place, and ofpractically no importance. It was brought into existence by theneighborhood of one or two large ranches; these ranches employedconsiderable labor. Foss River might be visited by an earthquake, and,provided the earthquake was not felt elsewhere, the world would not belikely to hear of it for weeks. The newspapers of the Western citieswere in their infancy, and contented themselves with the news of theirown towns and feverish criticisms of politics which were beyond theunderstanding of their editors. Progress in the West was veryslow--almost at a standstill.
After the death of Horrocks the police had withdrawn to report and toreceive augmentation. No one felt alarm at their absence. Theinhabitants of Foss River were a self-reliant people--accustomed to lookto themselves for the remedy of a grievance. Besides, Horrocks, theysaid, had shown himself to be a duffer--merely a tracker, a prairie-manand not the man to bring Retief to justice. Already the younger membersof the settlement and district were forming themselves into a vigilancecommittee. The elders--those to whom the younger looked for a lead insuch matters--had chosen to go to the police; now the younger of thesettlement decided to act for themselves.
This was the condition and feeling in Foss River at the time of thedeath of Horrocks; this was the state of affairs when the _insouciant_Bill leisurely strolled into the sitting-room at the Foss River Ranch,about the time that Joaquina Allandale had finished her tea. With thefamiliarity of the West, Bill entered by the French window. His lazysmile was undisturbed. He might have been paying an ordinary callinstead of answering a summons which he knew must be a matter ofemergency, for it was understood between these two that private meetingswere tabooed, except when necessity demanded them.
Jacky's greeting was not reassuring, but her lover's expression remainedunchanged, except that his weary eyelids further unclosed.
"Guess we're side-tracked, Bill," she said meaningly. "The line'sblocked. Signals dead against us."
Bill looked into her eyes; then he turned and closed the window,latching it securely. The door was closed. His keen eyes noted this.
"What do you mean?"
The girl shrugged.
"The next twelve hours must finish our game."
"Ah!"
"Yes," the girl went on, "it is Lablache's doing. We must settle ourreckoning 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 so unnecessary. She always liked Bill'snonchalance. It conveyed such a suggestion of latent power.
"Yes, smoke, Bill; smoke and get your thinking box in order. My yarnwon't take a deal of time to tell. But it'll take a deal of thought toupset 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 forgot nothing. She never allowedherself to fall into the womanly mistake of omitting details, howeversmall.
Bill fully appreciated her cleverness in this direction. He could trustwhat she said implicitly. At the conclusion of the story he sat up androlled another cigarette.
"And your uncle is upstairs in bed?"
"Yes, when he wakes I guess he'll need a bracer. He'll be sober. He mustplay. 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 wasthinking rapidly.
"The game must be interrupted--with another scare."
"What?"
Bill shrugged and laughed.
"What are you going to do?"
"Burn him out--his store. And then--"
"And then?" eagerly.
"Retief will be present at the game. Tell him what has happened and--ifhe doesn't leave Foss River--shoot him. Mortgages and all records ofdebts, etc., are in his store."
"Good."
After expressing her approval the girl sat gazing into her lover's face.They talked a little longer, then Bill rose to go.
"Eleven o'clock to-night you say is the 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 decisive nod. "One cannot be sure.You may need me."
"Very well. Good-by, little woman." "Lord" Bill bent and kissed her.Then something very like a sigh escaped him. "I think with you this gameis nearly up. To-night will settle things one way or the other."
"Yes. Trouble is not far off. Say, Bill, when it comes, I want to bewith you."
Bill looked tenderly down into the upturned face.
"Is that why you insist on coming to-night?"
"Yes."
Another embrace and Bill left the house.
He sauntered leisurely down the avenue of pines. He kept straight ontowards the muskeg. Then he turned away from the settlement, and wassoon lost behind the rising ground which shored the great mire. Once outof sight of the house he quickened his pace, gradually swinging awayfrom the keg, and heading towards the half-breed camp.
Foss River might have been deserted for all signs of life heencountered. The prairie was calmly silent. Not even the call of thebirds broke the stillness around. The heat of the afternoon had lulledall nature to repose.
He strode on swiftly until he came to a small bluff. Here he halted andthrew himself full length upon the ground in a welcome shade. He waswithin sight of the half-breed camp. He shifted his position until hishead was in the sun. In this way he could see the scattered dwellings ofthe prairie outcasts. Then he drew a small piece of looking-glass fromhis pocket and held it out in the sun. Turning and twisting it in thedirection of the camp, as might a child who wishes to dazzle aplay-fellow's eyes. For several minutes he thus manipulated hisimpromptu heliograph. Then, as he suddenly beheld an answering flash inthe distance, he desisted, and returned the glass to his pocket. Now hedrew back in the shade and composed himself to smoke.
The half-closed eyes of the recumbent man gazed steadily out towards thecamp. He had nearly finished his third cigarette when his quick earscaught the sound of footsteps. Instantly he sat up. The steps grewlouder and then round the sheltering bush came the thick-set form ofGautier. He was accompanied by an evil-looking dog which growled sulkilyas it espied the white man.
"Ugh! Hot walkin'," said the newcomer, by way of greeting.
"Not so hot as it'll be to-night," said the white man, quietly. "Sitdown."
"More bonfires, boss?" said the half-breed, with a meaning grin, seatinghimself as he spoke.
"More bonfires. See you, I want six of the boys at Lablache's storeto-night at eleven o'clock. We are going to burn his place. It will bequite easy. Lablache will be away, and only his clerks on the premises.The cellar underneath the building is lit by barred windows, two underthe front, and two under the office at the back. All you have to do isto break the glass of the window at the back and pour in a couple ofgallons of coal oil. Then push in some straw, and then light a piece ofoil-soaked rope and drop it in. The cellar is full of cases of goods andbarrels of oil. The fire will be unextinguishable. Directly it is welllit see that the clerks are warned. We want no lives lost. Youunderstand? The stables are adjacent and will catch fire too. I sha'n'tbe there until later. There will be no risk and lots of loot. Savee?"
The cunning face of the half-breed was lit by an unholy grin. He rubbedhis hands with the unctuous anticipation of a shop-walker. Truly, hethought, this white man was a man after his own heart. He wagged hishead in approval.
"Easy--easy? It is childlike," he said in ecstasy. "I have long thoughtof it, sure. An' thar is a big store of whisky thar, eh, boss?Good--good! And what time will you come?"
"When the fire is lit. I go to deal with Lablache. Look you here,Gautier, you owe that man a grudge. You would kill him but you don'td
are. I may pay off that grudge for you. Pay it by a means that isbetter than killing."
"Torture," grinned the half-breed.
Bill nodded.
"Now see and be off. And don't make any mistake, or we may all swing forit. Tell Baptiste he must go over the keg at once and bring Golden Eagleto my shack at 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 hisorders would be carried out to the letter. The service he demanded ofthis man was congenial service, in so far that it promised loot inplenty and easily acquired. Moreover, the criminal side of thehalf-breed's nature was tickled. A liberal reward for honesty would beless likely to secure good service from such as Gautier than a chance ofgain for shady work. It was the half-breed nature.
After the departure of the half-breed, Bill remained where he was forsome time. He sat with his hands clasped round his knees, gazingthoughtfully out towards the camp. He was reviewing his forces andmentally struggling to penetrate the pall which obscured the future. Hefelt himself to be playing a winning game; at least, that his vengeanceand chastisement of Lablache had been made ridiculously easy for him.But now he had come to that point when he wondered what must be theoutcome of it all as regarded himself and the girl he loved. Would hispersecution drive Lablache from Foss River to the security of Calford,Where he would be able to follow him and still further prosecute hisinexorable vengeance? Or would he still choose to remain? He knewLablache to be a strong man, but he also knew, by the money-lender'ssudden determination to force Jacky into marriage with him, that he hadreceived a scare. He could not decide on the point. But he inclined tothe belief that Lablache must go after to-night. He would not spare him.He had yet a trump card to play. He would be present at the game ofcards, and--well, time would show.
He threw away his mangled cigarette end and rose from the ground. Oneglance of his keen eyes told him that no one was in sight. He strolledout upon the prairie and made his way back to the settlement. He neednot have troubled himself about the future. The future would work itselfout, and no effort of his would be capable of directing its course. Ahigher power than man's was governing the actions of the participants inthe Foss River drama.
For the rest of the day "Lord" Bill moved about the settlement in hiscustomary idle fashion. He visited the saloon; he showed himself on themarket-place. He discussed the doings of Retief with the butcher, thesmith, Dr. Abbot. And, as the evening closed in and the sun's powerlessened, he identified himself with others as idle as himself, andbasked in the warmth of its feeble, dying rays.
When darkness closed in he went to his shack and prepared his eveningmeal with a simple directness which no thoughts of coming events couldupset. Bill was always philosophical. He ate to live, and consequentlywas not particular about his food. He passed the evening between thoughtand tobacco, and only an occasional flashing of his lazy eyes gave anysign of the trend of his mental effort.
At a few minutes past ten he went into his bedroom and carefully lockedthe door. Then he drew from beneath his bed a small chest; it was anammunition chest of very powerful make. The small sliding lid wassecurely padlocked. This he opened and drew from within several articlesof apparel and a small cardboard box.
Next he divested himself of his own tweed clothes and donned the thingshe had taken from the box. These consisted of a pair of moleskintrousers, a pair of chaps, a buckskin shirt and a battered Stetson hat.From the cardboard box he took out a tin of greasy-looking stuff and along black wig made of horse hair. Stepping to a glass he smeared hisface with the grease, covering his own white flesh carefully right downto the chest and shoulders, also his hands. It was a brownish ocher andturned his skin to the copperish hue of the Indian. The wig wascarefully adjusted and secured by sprigs to his own fair hair. This,with the hat well jammed down upon his head, completed thetransformation, and out from the looking-glass peered the strong, eagleface of the redoubtable half-breed, Retief.
He then filled the chest with his own clothes and relocked it. Suddenlyhis quick ear caught the sound of some one approaching. He looked at hiswatch; it wanted two minutes to half-past ten. He waited.
Presently he heard the rattle of a stick down the featheredged boardingof the outer walls of the hut. He picked up his revolver belt andsecured it about his waist, and then, putting out the light, unlockedthe back door which opened out of his bedroom.
A horse was standing outside, and a man held the bridle reins loopedupon his arm.
"That you, Baptiste?"
"Yup."
"Good, you are punctual."
"It's as well."
"Yes."
"I go to join the boys," the half-breed said slowly. "And you?"
"I--oh, I go to settle a last account with Lablache," replied Bill, witha mirthless laugh.
"Where?"
Bill looked sharply at the man. He understood the native distrust of theBreed. Then he nodded vaguely in the direction of the Foss River Ranch.
"Yonder. In old John's fifty-acre pasture. Lablache and John meet at thetool-shed there to-night. Why?"
"And you go not to the fire?" Baptiste's voice had a surprised ring init.
"Not until later. I must be at the meeting soon after eleven."
The half-breed was silent for a minute. He seemed to be calculating. Atlength he spoke. His words conveyed resolve.
"It is good. Guess you may need assistance. I'll be there--and some ofthe boys. We ain't goin' ter interfere--if things goes smooth."
Bill shrugged.
"You need not come."
"No? Nuthin' more?"
"Nothing. Keep the boys steady. Don't burn the clerks in the store."
"No."
"S'long."
"S'long."
"Lord" Bill vaulted into the saddle, and Golden Eagle moved restivelyaway.
It was as well that Foss River was a sleepy place. "Lord" Bill'sprecautions were not elaborate. But then he knew the ways of thesettlement.
Dr. Abbot chanced to be standing in the doorway of the saloon. Bill'sshack was little more than a hundred yards away. The doctor was about tostep across to see if he were in, for the purpose of luring his friendinto a game. Poker was not so plentiful with the doctor now since Billhad dropped out of Lablache's set.
He saw the dim outline of a horseman moving away from the back of "Lord"Bill's hut. His curiosity was aroused. He hastened across to the shack.He found it locked up, and in darkness. He turned away wondering. And ashe turned away he found himself almost face to face with Baptiste. Thedoctor knew the man.
"Evening, Baptiste."
"Evening," the man growled.
The doctor was about to speak again but the man hurried away.
"Damned funny," the medical man muttered. Then he moved off towards hisown home. Somehow he had forgotten his wish for poker.