The Story of the Foss River Ranch Part 43

Jacky smiled. The request was so unnecessary. She always liked Bill's nonchalance. It conveyed such a suggestion of latent power.

"Yes, smoke, Bill; smoke and get your thinking box in order. My yarn won't take a deal of time to tell. But it'll take a deal 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 forgot nothing. She never allowed herself to fall into the womanly mistake of omitting details, however small.

Bill fully appreciated her cleverness in this direction. He could trust what she said implicitly. At the conclusion of the story he sat up and rolled 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 must play. 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--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--if he doesn't leave Foss River--shoot him. Mortgages and all records of debts, 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 game is 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 be with 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 on towards the muskeg. Then he turned away from the settlement, and was soon lost behind the rising ground which sh.o.r.ed the great mire. Once out of sight of the house he quickened his pace, gradually swinging away from the keg, and heading towards the half-breed camp.

Foss River might have been deserted for all signs of life he encountered. The prairie was calmly silent. Not even the call of the birds broke the stillness around. The heat of the afternoon had lulled all nature to repose.

He strode on swiftly until he came to a small bluff. Here he halted and threw himself full length upon the ground in a welcome shade. He was within sight of the half-breed camp. He s.h.i.+fted his position until his head was in the sun. In this way he could see the scattered dwellings of the prairie outcasts. Then he drew a small piece of looking-gla.s.s from his pocket and held it out in the sun. Turning and twisting it in the direction of the camp, as might a child who wishes to dazzle a play-fellow's eyes. For several minutes he thus manipulated his impromptu heliograph. Then, as he suddenly beheld an answering flash in the distance, he desisted, and returned the gla.s.s to his pocket. Now he drew back in the shade and composed himself to smoke.

The half-closed eyes of the rec.u.mbent man gazed steadily out towards the camp. He had nearly finished his third cigarette when his quick ears caught the sound of footsteps. Instantly he sat up. The steps grew louder and then round the sheltering bush came the thick-set form of Gautier. He was accompanied by an evil-looking dog which growled sulkily as 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. "Sit down."

"More bonfires, boss?" said the half-breed, with a meaning grin, seating himself as he spoke.

"More bonfires. See you, I want six of the boys at Lablache's store to-night at eleven o'clock. We are going to burn his place. It will be quite easy. Lablache will be away, and only his clerks on the premises.

The cellar underneath the building is lit by barred windows, two under the front, and two under the office at the back. All you have to do is to break the gla.s.s of the window at the back and pour in a couple of gallons of coal oil. Then push in some straw, and then light a piece of oil-soaked rope and drop it in. The cellar is full of cases of goods and barrels of oil. The fire will be unextinguishable. Directly it is well lit see that the clerks are warned. We want no lives lost. You understand? The stables are adjacent and will catch fire too. I sha'n't be 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 rubbed his hands with the unctuous antic.i.p.ation of a shop-walker. Truly, he thought, this white man was a man after his own heart. He wagged his head in approval.

"Easy--easy? It is childlike," he said in ecstasy. "I have long thought of 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't dare. I may pay off that grudge for you. Pay it by a means that is better 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 for it. Tell Baptiste he must go over the keg at once and bring Golden Eagle to 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 his orders would be carried out to the letter. The service he demanded of this man was congenial service, in so far that it promised loot in plenty and easily acquired. Moreover, the criminal side of the half-breed's nature was tickled. A liberal reward for honesty would be less likely to secure good service from such as Gautier than a chance of gain for shady work. It was the half-breed nature.

After the departure of the half-breed, Bill remained where he was for some time. He sat with his hands clasped round his knees, gazing thoughtfully out towards the camp. He was reviewing his forces and mentally struggling to penetrate the pall which obscured the future. He felt himself to be playing a winning game; at least, that his vengeance and chastis.e.m.e.nt of Lablache had been made ridiculously easy for him.

But now he had come to that point when he wondered what must be the outcome of it all as regarded himself and the girl he loved. Would his persecution drive Lablache from Foss River to the security of Calford, Where he would be able to follow him and still further prosecute his inexorable vengeance? Or would he still choose to remain? He knew Lablache to be a strong man, but he also knew, by the money-lender's sudden determination to force Jacky into marriage with him, that he had received a scare. He could not decide on the point. But he inclined to the 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 of cards, and--well, time would show.

He threw away his mangled cigarette end and rose from the ground. One glance of his keen eyes told him that no one was in sight. He strolled out upon the prairie and made his way back to the settlement. He need not have troubled himself about the future. The future would work itself out, and no effort of his would be capable of directing its course. A higher power than man's was governing the actions of the partic.i.p.ants in the Foss River drama.