The Story of the Foss River Ranch: A Tale of the Northwest

by Ridgwell Cullum

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE NIGHT OF THE PUSKY

  Presently the old man drew himself up a little. The spirit had a bracingeffect upon him. The dull leering eyes assumed a momentary brightness,and he almost grew cheerful. The change was not lost upon Lablache. Itwas a veritable game of the cat and the mouse.

  "This is the first time your stock has been touched," said John,meaninglessly. His thoughts were running upon the game of cards he hadpromised himself. An unaccountable lack of something like moral courageprevented him talking of it. Possibly it was the iron influence of hiscompanion which forbade the suggestion of cards. "Poker" John wasinwardly chafing at his own weakness.

  "Yes," responded the other, "I have not been touched before." Then,suddenly, he leant forward, and, for the moment, the money-lender's facelit up with something akin to kindliness. It was an unusual sight, andone not to be relied upon. "How many years is it, John, that we havestruggled side by side in this benighted land?"

  The rancher looked at the other, then his eyes dropped. He scarcelycomprehended. He was startled at the expression of that leathery, puffedface. He shifted uneasily with the curious weakly restlessness of ashattered nerve.

  "More years, I guess, than I care to think of," he murmured at last.

  "Yes, yes, you're right, John--quite right. It doesn't do to look backtoo far. We're getting on. But we're not old men yet. We're rich, John,rich in land and experience. No, not so old. We can still give theyoungsters points, John. Ha, ha!"

  Lablache laughed hollowly at his own pleasantry. His companion joinedin the laugh, but without mirth. Poker--he could think of nothing butpoker. The money-lender insinuatingly pushed the whisky bottle closer tothe senile rancher. Almost unconsciously the old man helped himself.

  "I wonder what it would be like living a private, idle life?" Lablachewent on, as though speaking to himself. Then directly to his companion,"Do you know, old friend, I'm seriously thinking of selling out all myinterests and retiring. I've worked very hard--very hard. I'm gettingtired of it all. Sometimes I feel that rest would be good. I haveamassed a very large fortune, John--as you know."

  The confidences of the money-lender were so unusual that "Poker" John,in a dazed way, mildly wondered. The whisky had roused him a good dealnow, and he felt that it was good to talk like this. He felt that themoney-lender was a good fellow, and much better than he had thought. Heeven experienced compunction for the opinions which, at times, he hadexpressed of this old companion. Drink plays strange pranks with one'sbetter judgment at times. Lablache noted the effect of his wordscarefully.

  "Yes," said John, "you have worked hard--we have both worked hard. Ourlives have not been altogether without pleasure. The occasional game ofcards we have had together has always helped to relieve monotony, eh,Lablache? Yes--yes. No one can say we have not earned rest. Butthere--yes, you have been more fortunate than I. I could not retire."

  Lablache raised his sparse eyebrows. Then he helped himself to somewhisky and pushed the bottle over to the other. When John had againreplenished his glass the money-lender solemnly raised his and waved ittowards the gray-headed old man. John responded unsteadily.

  "How!"

  "How!" replied the rancher.

  Both men drank the old Indian toast. Simple honesty was in one heart,while duplicity and low cunning filled the other.

  "You could not retire?" said Lablache, when they had set their emptyglasses upon the desk.

  "No--no," answered the other, shaking his head with ludicrousmournfulness, "not retire; I have responsibilities--debts. You shouldknow. I must pay them off. I must leave Jacky provided for."

  "Yes, of course. You must pay them off. Jacky should be your firstconsideration."

  Lablache pursed his sensual lips. His expression was one of deepconcern. Then he apparently fell into a reverie, during which John waswondering how best to propose the longed-for game of cards. The otherroused himself before the desired means suggested itself to the oldgambler. And his efforts were cut short abruptly.

  "Jacky ought to marry," Lablache said without preamble. "One never knowswhat may happen. A good husband--a man with money and business capacity,would be a great help to you, and would assure her future."

  Lablache had touched upon the one strong point which remained in JohnAllandale's character. His love for Jacky rivaled his passion for poker,and in its pure honesty was perhaps nearly as strong as that feverishzest. The gambler suddenly became electrified into a different being.The signs of decay--the atmosphere of drink, as it were, fell from himin the flashing of a second, and the old vigorous rancher, like the lastdying flame of a fire, shot up into being.

  "Jacky shall marry when she chooses, and whatever man she prefers. Iwill never profit by that dear child's matrimonial affairs," he saidsimply.

  Lablache bit his lips. He had been slightly premature. He acquiescedwith a heavy nod of the head and poured himself out some more whisky.The example was natural and his companion followed it.

  "You are quite right, John. I merely spoke from a worldly point ofview. But your decision affects me closely."

  The other looked curiously at the money-lender, who thus found himselfforced to proceed. Hitherto he had chosen his own gait. Now he felthimself being drawn. The process was new to him, but it suited hispurpose.

  "How?"

  Lablache sighed. It was like the breathing of an adipose pig.

  "I have known that niece of yours, John, ever since she came into thisworld. I have watched her grow. I understand her nature as well as youdo yourself. She is a clever, bright, winsome girl. But she needs theguiding hand of a good husband."

  "Just so. You are right. I am too old to take proper care of her. Whenshe chooses she shall marry."

  John's tone was decisive. His words were non-committing and open to noargument. Lablache went on.

  "Supposing now a rich man, a very rich man, proposed marriage for her.Presuming he was a man against whom there was no doubtful record--who,from a worldly point of view, there could be no objection to--should youobject to him as a husband for Jacky?"

  The rancher was still unsuspecting.

  "What I have stated should answer your question. If Jacky were willing Ishould have no objection."

  "Supposing," the money-lender went on, "she were unwilling, but wascontent to abide by your decision. What then?"

  There was a passing gleam of angry protest in the rancher's eyes as heanswered.

  "What I have said still holds good," he retorted a little hotly. "I willnot influence the child."

  "I am sorry. I wish to marry your girl."

  There was an impressive silence after this announcement. "Poker" Johnstared in blank wonderment at his companion. The expectation of such acontingency could not have been farther from his thought. Lablache--tomany his niece--it was preposterous--ludicrous. He would not take itseriously--he could not. It was a joke--and not a nice one.

  He laughed--and in his laugh there was a ring of anger.

  "Of course you are joking, Lablache," he said at last. "Why, man, youare old enough to be the girl's father."

  "I was never more serious in my life. And as for age," with a shrug, "atleast you will admit my intellect is unimpaired. Her interests will bein safe keeping."

  Having recovered from his surprise the old man solemnly shook his head.Some inner feeling made him shrink from thoughts of Lablache as ahusband for his girl. Besides, he had no intention of retreating fromthe stand he had taken.

  "As far as I am concerned the matter is quite impossible. If Jacky comesto me with a request for sanction of her marriage to you, she shall haveit. But I will express no wish upon the matter. No, Lablache, I neverthought you contemplated such a thing. You must go to her. I will notinterfere. Oh, dear! oh, dear!" and the old man laughed again nervously.

  Lablache remained perfectly calm. He had expected this result; althoughhe had hoped that it might have been otherwise. Now he felt that he hadpaved the way to methods much dearer to his heart. This
refusal ofJohn's he intended to turn to account. He would force an acceptance fromJacky, and induce her uncle, by certain means, to give his consent.

  The money-lender remained silent while he refilled his pipe. "Poker"John seized the opportunity.

  "Come, Lablache," he said jocosely, "let us forget this little matter.Have a drink of your own whisky--I'll join you--and let us go down tothe saloon for a gentle flutter."

  He helped himself to the spirit and poured out a glass for hiscompanion. They silently drank, and then Lablache coughed, spat and lithis pipe. He fumbled his hat on to his head and moved to the door.

  "Come on, then," he said gutturally. And John Allandale followed himout.

  The two days before the half-breed pusky passed quickly enough for someof those who are interested, and dragged their weary lengths all tooslowly for others. At last, however, in due course the day dawned, andwith it hopes and fears matured in the hearts of not a few of thedenizens of Foss River and the surrounding neighborhood.

  To all appearance the most unconcerned man was the Hon. Bunning-Ford,who still moved about the settlement in his cheery, _debonnaire_fashion, ever gentlemanly and always indolent. He had taken up hisresidence in one of the many disused shacks which dotted round themarket-place, and there, apparently, sought to beguile the hours and ekeout the few remaining dollars which were his. For Lablache, in hissweeping process, had still been forced to hand over some money, overand above his due, as a result of the sale of the young rancher'sproperty. The trifling amount, however, was less than enough to keepbody and soul together for six months.

  Lablache, too, staunch to his opinions, did not trouble himself in theleast. For the rest, all who knew of the meditated _coup_ of Horrockswere agitated to a degree. All hoped for success, but all agreed in afeeling of pessimism which was more or less the outcome of previousexperiences of Retief. Did not they know, only too well, of the trapswhich had been laid and which had failed to ensnare the daring desperadoin days gone by? Horrocks they fondly believed to be a very smart man,but had not some of the best in the Canadian police been sent before tobring to justice this scourge of the district?

  Amongst those who shared these pessimistic views Mrs. Abbot was one ofthe most skeptical. She had learnt all the details of the intendedarrest in the way she learned everything that was going on. A fewjudicious questions to the doctor and careful observations never lefther long in the dark. She had a natural gift for absorbing information.She was a sort of social amalgam which never failed to glean the goldenparticles of news which remained after the "panning up" of daily eventsin Foss River. Nothing ever escaped this dear old soul, from the detailsof a political crisis in a distant part of the continent down to thenumber of drinks absorbed by some worthless half-breed in "old man"Smith's saloon. She had one of those keen, active brains which refusesto become dull and torpid in an atmosphere of humdrum monotony. Luckilyher nature never allowed her to become a mischievous busybody. She wastoo kindly for that--too clever, tactful.

  After duly weighing the point at issue she found Horrocks's planswanting, hence her unbelief, but, at the same time, her old heartpalpitated with nervous excitement as might the heart of any younger andmore hopeful of those in the know.

  As for the Allandales, it would be hard to say what they thought. Jackywent about her duties with a placidity that was almost worthy of thegreat money-lender himself. She showed no outward sign, and very littleinterest. Her thoughts she kept severely to herself. But she hadthoughts on the subject, thoughts which teemed through her brain nightand day. She was in reality aglow with excitement, but the Breed naturein her allowed no sign of emotion to appear. "Poker" John was beyond akeen interest. Whisky and cards had done for him what morphine and opiumdoes for the drug fiend. He had no thoughts beyond them. In lucidintervals, as it were, he thought, perhaps, as well as his poor dulledbrain would permit him, but the result of his mental effort wouldscarcely be worth recording.

  And so the time drew near.

  Horrocks, since his difference of opinion with Lablache, had made theranch his headquarters, leaving the money-lender as much as possible outof his consultations. He had been heartily welcomed by old John and hisniece, the latter in particular being very gracious to him. Horrockswas not a lady's man, but he appreciated comfort when he could get it,and Jacky spared no trouble to make him comfortable now. Had he knownthe smiling thought behind her beautiful face his appreciation mighthave lessened.

  As the summer day drew to a close signs of coming events began to showthemselves. First of all Aunt Margaret made her appearance at theAllandales' house. She was hot and excited. She had come up for agossip, she said, and promptly sat down with no intention of movinguntil she had heard all she wanted to know. Then came "Lord" Bill,cheerily monosyllabic. He always considered that long speeches were adisgusting waste of time. Following closely upon his heels came thedoctor and Pat Nabob, with another rancher from an outlying ranch. Quitewhy they had come up they would have hesitated to say. Possibly it wascuriosity--possibly natural interest in affairs which nearly affectedthem. Horrocks, they knew, was at the ranch. Perhaps the magnetism whichsurrounds persons about to embark on hazardous undertakings hadattracted them thither.

  As the hour for supper drew near the gathering in the sitting-roombecame considerable, and as each newcomer presented himself, Jacky, withthoughtful hospitality, caused another place to be set at her bountifultable. No one was ever allowed to pass a meal hour at the ranch withoutpartaking of refreshment. It was one of the principal items provided forin the prairie creed, and the greatest insult to be offered at such timewould have been to leave the house before the repast.

  At eight o'clock the girl announced the meal with characteristicheartiness.

  "Come right along and feed," she said. "Who knows what to-night maybring forth? I guess we can't do better than drink success to ourfriend, Sergeant Horrocks. Whatever the result of his work to-night weall allow his nerve's right. Say, good people, there's liquor on thetable--and glasses; a bumper to Sergeant Horrocks."

  The wording of the girl's remarks was significant. Truly Horrocks mighthave been the leader of a forlorn hope. Many of those present certainlyconsidered him to be such. However, they were none the less hearty intheir toast, and Jacky and Bill were the two first to raise theirglasses on high.

  The toast drunk, tongues were let loose and the supper began. Teno'clock was the time at which Horrocks was to set out. Therefore therewere two hours in which to make merry. Never was a merrier meal taken atthe ranch. Spirits were at bursting point, due no doubt to the currentof excitement which actuated each member of the gathering.

  Jacky was in the best of spirits, and even "Poker" John was enjoying oneof his rare lucid intervals. "Lord" Bill sat between Jacky and Mrs.Abbot, and a more charming companion the old lady thought she had nevermet. It was Jacky who led the talk, Jacky who saw to every one's wants,Jacky whose spirits cheered everybody, by her light badinage, into, evenagainst their better judgment, a feeling of optimism. Even Horrocks feltthe influence of her bright, winsome cheeriness.

  "Capture this colored scoundrel, Sergeant Horrocks," the girl exclaimed,with a laughing glance, as she helped him to a goodly portion of bakedJack-rabbit, "and we'll present you with the freedom of the settlement,in an illuminated address inclosed in a golden casket. That's the mode,I take it, in civilized countries, and I guess we are civilizedhereabout, some. Say, Bill, I opine you're the latest thing from Englandhere to-night. What does 'freedom' mean?"

  Bill looked dubious. Everybody waited for his answer.

  "Freedom--um. Yes, of course--freedom. Why, freedom means banquets. Youknow--turtle soup--bile--indigestion. Best champagne in the mayor'scellar. Police can't run you in if you get drunk. All that sort ofthing, don'tcherknow."

  "An excellent definition," laughed the doctor.

  "I wish somebody would present me with 'freedom,'" said Nabob,plaintively.

  "It's a good thing we don't go in for that sort of thing extensively inCana
da," put in Horrocks, as the representative of the law. "Thepeaceful pastime of the police would soon be taken from them. Why, thehandling of 'drunks' is our only recreation."

  "That, and for some of them the process of lowering four per cent.beer," added the doctor, quietly.

  Another laugh followed the doctor's sally.

  When the mirth had subsided Aunt Margaret shook her head. This levityrather got on her nerves. This Retief business, as she understood it,was a very serious affair, especially for Sergeant Horrocks. She waskeenly anxious to hear the details of his preparations. She knew most ofthem, but she liked her information first hand. With this object in viewshe suggested, rather than asked, what she wanted to know.

  "But I don't quite understand. I take it you are going single-handedinto the half-breed camp, where you expect to find this Retief, SergeantHorrocks?"

  Horrocks's face was serious as he looked over at the old lady. There wasno laughter in his black, flashing eyes. He was not a man given tosuavity. His business effectually crushed any approach to that sort ofthing. He was naturally a stern man, too.

  "I am not quite mad, madam," he said curtly. "I set some value upon mylife."

  This crushing rejoinder had no effect upon Aunt Margaret. She stillpersisted.

  "Then, of course, you take your men with you. Four, you have, and smartthey look, too. I like to see well-set-up men. I trust you will succeed.They--I mean the Breeds--are a dangerous people."

  "Not so dangerous as they're reckoned, I guess," said Horrocks,disdainfully. "I don't anticipate much trouble."

  "I hope it will turn out as you think," replied the old lady,doubtfully.

  Horrocks shrugged his shoulders; he was not to be drawn.

  There was a moment's silence after this, which was at length broken by"Poker" John.

  "Of course, Horrocks," he said, "we shall carry out your instructions tothe letter. At three in the morning, failing your return or news of you,I set out with my ranch hands to find you. And woe betide those blackdevils if you have come to harm. By the way, what about your men?"

  "They assemble here at ten. We leave our horses at Lablache's stables.We are going to walk to the settlement."

  "I think you are wise," said the doctor.

  "Guess horses would be an encumbrance," said Jacky.

  "An excellent mark for a Breed's gun," added Bill. "Seems to me you'llsucceed," he went on politely. His eagle face was calmly sincere. Thegray eyes looked steadily into those of the officer's. Jacky waswatching her lover keenly. The faintest suspicion of a smile was in hereyes.

  "I should like to be there," she said simply, when Bill had finished."It's mean bad luck being a girl. Say, d'you think I'd be in the way,sergeant?"

  Horrocks looked over at her, and in his gaze was a look of admiration.In the way he knew she would be, but he could not tell her so. Suchspirit appealed to him.

  "There would be much danger for you, Miss Jacky," he said. "My handswould be full, I could not look after you, and besides--" He broke offat the recollection of the old stories about this girl. Suddenly hewondered if he had been indiscreet. What if the stories were true. Heran cold at the thought. These people knew his plans. Then he lookedinto the girl's beautiful face. No, it must be false. She could havenothing in common with the rascally Breeds.

  "And besides--what?" Jacky said, smiling over at the policeman.

  Horrocks shrugged.

  "When Breeds are drunk they are not responsible."

  "That settles it," the girl's uncle said, with a forced laugh. He didnot like Jacky's tone. Knowing her, he feared she intended to be thereto see the arrest.

  Her uncle's laugh nettled the girl a little, and with a slight elevationof her head, she said,--

  "I don't know."

  Further talk now became impossible, for, at that moment the troopersarrived. Horrocks discovered that it was nearly ten o'clock. The momentfor the start had come, and, with one accord, everybody rose from thetable. In the bustle and handshaking of departure Jacky slipped away.When, she returned the doctor and Mrs. Abbot were in the hall alone with"Lord" Bill. The latter was just leaving. "Poker" John was on theveranda seeing Horrocks off.

  As Jacky came downstairs Aunt Margaret's eyes fell upon the ominousholster and cartridge belt which circled the girl's hips. She wasdressed for riding. There could be no mistaking the determined set ofher face.

  "Jacky, my dear," said the old lady in dismay. "What are you doing?Where are you going?"

  "Guess I'm going to see the fun--I've a notion there'll be some."

  "But--"

  "Don't 'but' me, Aunt Margaret, I take it you aren't deaf."

  The old lady relapsed into dignified silence, but there was much concernand a little understanding in her eyes as she watched the girl pass outto the corrals.