CHAPTER XXX
HOLT FREES HIS MIND
Macdonald whirled in his tracks.
Old Gid Holt was leaning on his elbow with his head out of the window."You better come and beat me up first, Mac," he jeered. "I'm all stoveup with a busted laig, so you can wollop me good. I'd come out there,but I'm too crippled to move."
"You're not too crippled to go back to Kusiak with me. If you can'twalk, you'll ride. But back you go."
"Fine. I been worrying about how to get there. It's right good of you tobring one of these here taxis for me, as the old sayin' is."
"Where is the rest of the gold you stole?"
"I ain't seen the latest papers, Mac. What is this stuff about robbin' abank and shootin' Milton?"
"You're under arrest for robbery and murder."
"Am I? Unload the particulars. When did I do it all?"
"You know when. Just before you left town."
Holt shook his head slowly. "No, sir. I can't seem to remember it. Sureit ain't some one else you're thinking about? Howcome you to fix on meas one of the bold, bad bandits?"
"Because you had not sense enough to cover your tracks. You might justas well have left a note saying you did it. First, you come to town andbuy one of the fastest dog teams in Alaska. Why?"
"That's an easy one. I bought that team to win the Alaska Sweepstakesfrom you. And I'm goin' to do it. The team wasn't handled right or itwould have won last time. I got to millin' it over and figured that oldGid Holt was the dog puncher that could land those huskies in front.See?"
"You bought it to make your getaway after the robbery," retortedMacdonald.
"It's a difference of opinion makes horse-races. What else have you gotagainst us?"
"We found in your room one of the sacks that had held the gold you tookfrom the bank."
"That's right. I took it from the bank in the afternoon, where I had hadit on deposit, to pay for the team I bought. Milton's books will showthat. But you didn't find any sack I took when your bank was robbed--ifit was robbed," added the old man significantly.
"Of course, I knew you would have an alibi. Have you got one to explainwhy you left town so suddenly the night the bank was robbed? Milton waskilled after midnight. Before morning you and your friend Elliot routedout Ackroyd and bought a lot of supplies from him for a hurry-up trip.You slipped around to the corral and hit the trail right into theblizzard. Will you tell me why you were in such a hurry to get away, ifit wasn't to escape from the town where you had murdered a decent oldfellow who never had harmed a soul?"
"Sure I'll tell you." The black eyes of the little man snapped eagerly."I came so p. d. q. because that side pardner of mine Gordon Elliotwouldn't let me wait till mornin'. He had a reason for leavin' town thatwouldn't wait a minute, one big enough to drive him right into the heartof the blizzard. Me, I tagged along."
"I can guess his reason," jeered the Scotchman. "But I'd like to hearyou put a name to it."
Holt grinned maliciously and waved a hand toward the girl who waspillowing the head of her lover. "The name of his reason is ShebaO'Neill, but it's goin' to be Sheba Elliot soon, looks like."
"You mean--"
The little miner took the words triumphantly out of his mouth. He leanedforward and threw them into the face of the man he hated. "I mean thatwhile you was dancin' and philanderin' with other women, Gordon Elliotwas buckin' a blizzard to save the life of the girl you both claimedto love. He was mushin' into fifty miles of frozen hell while you wasfillin' up with potted grouse and champagne. Simultaneous with the lamegoose and the monkey singlestep you was doin,' this lad was windjammin'through white drifts. He beat you at your own game, man. You're a bearfor the outdoor stuff, they tell me. You chew up a blizzard forbreakfast and throttle a pack of wolves to work up an appetite fordinner. It's your specialty. All right. Take your hat off to thatchechacko who has just whaled you blind. He has outgamed you, ColbyMacdonald. You don't run in his class. I see he is holding his haid upagain. Give him another half-hour and he'd be ready to go to the matwith you again."
The big Alaskan pushed away a fear that had been lingering in his mindever since he had stumbled on that body buried in the snow yesterdayafternoon. Was his enemy going to escape him, after all? Could Holt betelling the true reason why they had left town so hurriedly? He wouldnot let himself believe it.
"You ought to work up a better story than that," he said contemptuously."You can throw a husky through the holes in it. How could Elliot know,for instance, that Miss O'Neill was not safe?"
"The same way you could' a' known it," snapped old Gideon. "He 'phonedto Smith's Crossin' and found the stage hadn't got in and that there wasa hell of a storm up in the hills."
Macdonald set his face. "You're lying to me. You stumbled over the stagewhile you were making your getaway. Now you're playing it for an alibi."
Elliot had risen. Sheba stood beside him, her hand in his. She spokequietly.
"It's the truth. Believe it or not as you please. We care nothing aboutthat."
The stab of her eyes, the carriage of the slim, pliant figure with itssuggestion of fine gallantry, challenged her former lover to do hisworst.
On the battered face of Gordon was a smile. So long as his Irishsweetheart stood by him he did not care if he were charged with hightreason. It was worth all it cost to feel the warmth of her brave,impulsive trust.
The deep-set eyes of Macdonald clinched with those of his rival. "Youcached the rest of the gold, I suppose," he said doggedly.
With a lift of his shoulders the younger man answered lightly. "Thereare none so blind as those who will not see, Mr. Macdonald." He turnedto Sheba. "Come. We must make breakfast."
"You're going to Kusiak with me," his enemy said bluntly.
"After we have eaten, Mr. Macdonald," returned Elliot with an ironicbow. "Perhaps, if you have not had breakfast yet, you will join us."
"We start in half an hour," announced the mine-owner curtly, and heturned on his heel.
The rifle lay where Sheba had dropped it when she ran to gather herstricken lover into her arms. Macdonald picked it up and strode over thebrow of the hill without a backward look. He was too proud to stay andwatch them. It was impossible to escape him in the deep snow that filledthe hill trails, and he was convinced they would attempt nothing of thekind.
The Scotchman felt for the first time in his life old and spent. Undertremendous difficulty he had mushed for two days and had at last run hismen down. The lust of vengeance had sat on his shoulders every mile ofthe way and had driven him feverishly forward. But the salt that hadlent a savor to his passion was gone. Even though he won, he lost. ForSheba had gone over to the enemy.
With the fierce willfulness of his temperament he tried to tread underfoot his doubts about the guilt of Holt and Elliot. Success had made himarrogant and he was not a good loser. He hated the man who had robbedhim of Sheba, but he could not escape respecting him. Elliot had foughtuntil he had been hammered down into unconsciousness and he had crawledto his feet and stood erect with the smile of the unconquered on hislips. Was this the sort of man to murder in cold blood a kindly oldgentleman who had never harmed him?
The only answer Macdonald found was that Milton had taken him and hispartners by surprise. They had been driven to shoot the cashier to coverup their crime. Perhaps Holt or another had fired the actual shots, butElliot was none the less guilty. The heart of the Scotchman was bitterwithin him. He intended to see that his enemies paid to the last ounce.He would harry them to the gallows if money and influence could do it.
None the less, his doubts persisted. If they had planned the bankrobbery, why did they wait so long to buy supplies for their escape? Whyhad they not taken the river instead of the hill trail? The story thathis enemies told hung together. It had the ring of truth. The factssupported it.
One piece of evidence in their favor Macdonald alone knew. It lay buriedin the deep snows of the hills. He shut his strong teeth in the firmresolve that it should stay there.
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The Yukon Trail: A Tale of the North Page 31
