The Frontiersman Part 16

PRITCHEN GETS BUSY

Several days after the conversation in the school room, Pritchen was striding along the trail, which wound through the Indian village.

Under his right arm he carried his long, narrow snow-shoes, while over his left shoulder was a small rifle, pendant from which were a few plump white ptarmigan. The trail ran close to the mission house, and, drawing near, the hunter observed the missionary by the door splitting fire wood.

For days Pritchen had steered clear of his hated opponent, and had not met him face to face since the shooting affray in the saloon. His anger, which burned like a fire in his heart, had become much intensified since then by the change affairs had taken. The Reading Room had proved a success, notwithstanding his jibes and sneers, and a goodly number of men were spending their evenings there who formerly haunted Perdue's place.

"D-- him!" muttered Pritchen half aloud. "I don't want to have any words with the cur. I wish I had taken some other route."

Even then he was tempted to put on his snowshoes and cut off from the trail. On second thought, however, this was abandoned, as his purpose would be easily interpreted as the act of a coward.

With eyes straight forward he essayed to pa.s.s the house without noticing the missionary, when a deep growl close by arrested his attention, and caused him to glance quickly up. He stopped short and over his face spread a look of surprise and then fear.

The cause of this change of att.i.tude was the half-wolf dog Brisko, who with his back to the door was growling in the most ferocious manner.

His teeth gleamed white, his eyes glowed, and the hair on his back stood straight on end. Not since the terrible night of the fight with the wolves had Keith seen the brute so much aroused.

"What's the matter with the cur?" growled Pritchen, trying to conceal the apprehension he felt.

"I don't know," replied the missionary. "I never saw him greet any one in that way before. He seems to be much exercised now anyway."

Suddenly a thought flashed into his mind. He loved dogs dearly, studied them most carefully, and had read much about their ways. Was there not some good reason for Brisko's aversion to this man? Had he seen him before? If so, where? Why that look of surprise and fear upon Pritchen's face? Could it be possible that this was the very one, the "Bill," whom that dying man in the Ibex cabin mentioned?

Lost in thought, he did not realize that he was staring hard at Pritchen, as if he could read his very soul. The latter noticed the look, surmised its meaning, and an ugly scowl pa.s.sed over his face.

"What are you gazing at so mighty hard?" he blurted out.

"You," Keith calmly replied.

"Well, what do you see about me that's so interesting? I ain't much to look at."

"You were a minute ago when you first saw that dog. Why were you so surprised and startled?"

"Wouldn't anyone be startled to have a brute growl at him in that way?"

"And why did he growl? He never did so to anyone else since I've had him."

"How in h--do you suppose I know? Am I responsible for the moods of a d-- mission house cur?"

"Perhaps he knows you, though, as well as I do."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps he has reason to growl. Look," and Keith pointed to an ugly scar on the dog's side, over which the hair had not grown.

Pritchen did not reply, but stepped forward to obtain a better view, at which Brisko retreated, still showing his teeth.

"I'd growl too," went on Keith, "if I were a dog, and met the man who treated me that way, and left my master to die in the wilderness, though G.o.d knows, Bill, that I have more cause than Brisko to show my teeth when I think of what you have done to Nellie and the little ones."

At these words Pritchen threw off all semblance of pretension. A terrible oath leaped from his lips, and his face became livid with rage.

"You insinuating dog," he cried. "Speak out. What in h-- do you mean?"

"You know very well what I mean about her, that sweet-faced little woman, but you think I don't know about the other," and Keith looked him full in the eyes. "I tell you I do, and that you, Bill Pritchen, robbed young Kenneth Radhurst, your partner, and left him to die in the lonely Ibex cabin. Deny it if you can."

"I do deny it, and I ask you to prove it. You can't do it, and what's more, I'll make you eat your words, and a bitter dose they'll be, too."

Pritchen was making a bluff. His speech was fierce, but his courage was failing. A fear of this strong, calm man was creeping over him.

How much did he know? What had he found out?

"Bill," said Keith quietly, "just a word more. For Nellie's sake I have borne with you for some time. You imposed a mean trick upon me, of which I have said nothing. You have tried to break up my mission work, and I have let you alone. Now I know that you are capable of the lowest degree of baseness, so I advise you to do one of two things while there is time."

"And what in h-- is that?" came the surly response.

"Leave my Indians alone, or go away from this camp, and do not cross my path again."

"And what if I don't take your d-- advice?"

"The answer is there," and the missionary waved his hand towards the Indian houses. "I hold the natives in leash. At a word from me they will pour in from the mountains, those cabins will swarm with life, and--oh, well, you know the rest. In the meantime touch me, and you will answer to them. As for that dastardly deed to a young partner, if the miners knew--and they will know if you don't do as I advise."

Pritchen waited to hear no more. With an oath upon his lips he sprang for the trail, leaving the missionary gazing after him with a troubled mind. Keith had thrust deep into the villain's heart. He had wounded him sore, but he felt no sense of elation, for he knew he was contending with a vile serpent in human guise.

Pritchen proceeded at a rapid pace through the Indian village, and down to the miners' cabins. He did not enter Perdue's store as was his wont, but made straight for his own log house beyond. A miserable, half-starved cur was lying at the door. Giving the animal a brutal kick, which sent it howling away, Pritchen entered the building.

Throwing his snow-shoes into one corner and the rifle with the ptarmigan on a pile of rugs, he sat down upon a small stool. His small, swinish eyes blazed, his brutal features twitched, and his hands clinched together as he brooded over the interview.

"He warned me, d-- him, he warned me! Me--me, Bill Pritchen, the lawless, who never took such words from any man which I have taken from him! But I'll fix him! I'll bring him down from his high horse. He's got the cinch on me now through those d-- Injuns, but my time'll come.

He told me to leave the camp, ha, ha!" Then he paused, and a light broke over his countenance. He sprang to his feet. "I've got it!

I've got it!" he exclaimed. "He said he'd expose me; that the men should know. Oh, yes, they'll know, ha, ha! But I must see first what's happened to that kid. I'll leave the camp. Oh, yes, I'll take your advice, my fine fellow, but I'll come back, yes, I'll come back, and then beware!"

Early the next morning he left Kla.s.san with a small pack on his back, snow-shoes on his feet, and a rifle under his arm. For five days the wilderness swallowed him up, and then he returned. It was night when he came back, with the swinging stride and elastic step of a man who has accomplished his purpose.

This time he did not go to his own cabin, but stopped at the store. He was in high fettle when he entered the building. He nodded pleasantly to the few men gathered at the table playing cards, and cracked a joke with Perdue as he tossed off a draught of hootch.

"Give us a snack, Jim," he said, setting down the cup. "I'm dead beat, and haven't had a mouthful since morning."

"Sure," returned the saloonkeeper. "There are some beans in the pan, and I'll make you a cup of tea."

"Where's your game, Bill?" asked one of the men, looking up from his cards.

"Out on the hill, where they'll stay for all I care."

"Why, I thought you were out hunting."

"So I was."

"And found nothing?"

"You're mistaken there, pard. I found more than I expected."

"What, gold?" asked several in chorus. "Been prospectin'?"