"Who done dat shootin' if he don't?" Doret inquired, quickly.
"Joe McCaskey—or Frank," Rouletta answered with positiveness. 'Poleon started. Through the gloom he stared incredulously at the speaker.
"I'm sure of it, now that I've had time to think," the girl declared. "That's why I ran for you. Now listen! I promised not to tell this, but—I must. Courteau confessed to his wife that he and the McCaskeys trumped5 up that charge against Pierce. They paid Courteau well for his part—or they promised to—and he perjured6 himself, as did they. Hilda got the truth out of him while he was drunk. Of course he denied it later, but she broke him down, and this evening, just before we got home, he promised to go to Colonel Cavendish and make a clean breast of everything. He went out for that purpose, but—evidently he lacked courage to go through with it. Otherwise how did he come to be on the back streets? The McCaskeys live somewhere back yonder, don't they?"
"I know I'm right," Rouletta cried. "The first thing to do is find them. Where are they?"
"I don' see 'em no place."
"Then we must tell the colonel to look them up."
But Doret's brows remained puckered11 in thought. "Wait!" he exclaimed. "I got idea of my own. If dem feller kill Courteau dey ain't nowheres roun' here. Dey beat it, firs' t'ing."
"To Hunker? Perhaps—"
"No. For de Boun'ry." 'Poleon slapped his thigh12 in sudden enlightenment. "By golly! Dat's why I don' see 'em no place. You stay here. I mak' sure."
He turned and strode away, but Rouletta followed at his heels.
"I'm going, too," she stoutly13 asserted. "Don't argue. I'll bet ten to one we find their cabin empty."
Together they made their way rapidly out of the brightly illuminated14 portion of the town and into the maze15 of blank warehouses16 and snow-banked cabins which lay behind. At this hour of the night few lamps were burning even in private residences, and, inasmuch as these back streets were unlighted, the travelers had to feel their way. The wind was diminishing, but even yet the air was thick with flying flakes17, and new drifts seriously impeded18 progress. Wading19 knee-deep in places, stumbling in and out of cuts where the late snow had been removed, clambering over treacherous20 slopes where other snows lay hard packed and slippery, the two pursued their course.
'Poleon came to a pause at length in the shelter of a pole provision-cache and indistinctly took his bearings. Silently he pointed21 to the premises22 and vigorously nodded his head; then he craned his neck for a view of the stove-pipe overhead. Neither sparks nor smoke nor heat was rising from it. After a cautious journey of exploration he returned to Rouletta and spoke23 aloud:
"Dey gone. Sled, dogs, ever't'ing gone."
He pushed open the cache door, and a moment later there came the sound of rending24 wood as he shouldered his way into the dark cabin, regardless of lock and bar. Rouletta was close behind him when he struck a match and held it to a candle which he discovered fixed25 in its own wax beside the window.
Curiously26 the interlopers surveyed the unfamiliar27 premises. Rouletta spoke first, with suppressed excitement:
"You were right. And they left in a hurry, too."
"Sure. Beddin' gone, an'—dey got plenty beddin' on Hunker. Here dey mak' grub-pack, see?" 'Poleon ran his finger through a white dust of flour which lay thick upon the table. Striding to the stove, he laid his hand upon it; he lifted the lid and felt of the ashes within. "Dey lef 'bout28 five hour' ago. Wal, dat's beeg start. I guess mebbe dey safe enough."
"I dunno. Dey got good team—"
"He must catch them! Why, he has ninety miles to do it in! He must, 'Poleon, he MUST! Of course this is evidence, but it isn't proof. Remember, Pierce talked wildly. People are prejudiced against him and—you know the Police. They act on suspicion, and circumstances are certainly strong. Poor boy! If these men get away—who knows what may happen to him? I tell you his very life may be in danger, for the law is an awful thing. I—I've always been afraid of it. So was father, to his dying day. We must send Rock flying. Yes, and without a moment's delay."
"You still got deep feelin' for dat feller?" 'Poleon inquired, gravely. The quick look of anguish30, the frank nod of assent31 that he received, were enough. "Bien!" he said, slowly. "I mak' satisfy, dat's all. I never see you so scare' as dis."
"You know how I feel," Rouletta said; then, more curiously: "Why do you need to make sure? Do you think I've changed—?" She hesitated for an instant; there came a faint pucker10 of apprehension between her brows; into her eyes crept a look of wonder which changed to astonishment32, then to incredulity, fright. "Oh—h!" she exclaimed. She raised a faltering33 hand to her lips as if to stay a further betrayal of the knowledge that had suddenly come to her. "Oh, 'Poleon, my dear! My brother!"
The man smiled painfully as he met her shocked gaze. "I'm fonny feller, ma saeur; always dream-in' de mos' foolish t'ing. Don' pay no'tention."
"I am—I always will be that—your sister. Have I made you unhappy?"
Vigorously he shook his head; his face slowly cleared. "No, no. In dis life one t'ing is give me happiness—one t'ing alone—an' dat is bring you joy. Now come. De grass growin' on our feet."
Together and in silence they hurried back as they had come; then, on the plea that he could make better time alone, 'Poleon left his companion and headed for the Barracks.
Rouletta let him go without protest; her heart was heavier than lead; she could find no words whatever. A new tragedy, it seemed, had risen to face her, for she realized now that she had hurt the man who loved her best of all. That certainty filled her with such regret, such a feeling of guilt35, that she could not bear to think of it. A very poignant36 sense of pain troubled her as she turned into the Rialto, and as a consequence the lively clatter37 of the place grated upon her sensibilities; she felt a miserable38, sick desire to shut her ears to this sound of laughter which was like ribald applause for the death-blow she had dealt. Yes, she had dealt a death-blow, and to one most dear. But how could she have known? How could she have foreseen such a wretched complication as this? Who would have dreamed that gay, careless, laughing 'Poleon Doret was like other men? Rouletta felt the desire to bend her head and release those scalding tears that trembled on her lashes39.
Lieutenant40 Rock was preparing for bed when 'Poleon, after some little difficulty, forced his way in upon him. The officer listened to his caller's recital41, and even before it was finished he had begun to dress himself in his trail clothes.
"Courteau confessed, eh? And the McCaskeys have disappeared—taken French leave. Say! That changes the look of things, for a fact. Of course they may have merely gone back to Hunker—"
"In de middle of snow-storm? Dis tam de night? No. Dey makin' run for de Line an' it's goin' tak' fas' team for pull 'em down."
"Well, I've got the best dogs in town."
Rock's caller smiled. "M'sieu', dey goin' travel some if dey keep in sight of me."
"YOU?" Rock straightened himself. "Will you go along? Jove! I'd like that!" he cried, heartily42. "I've heard you own a lively bunch of mutts."
"I give you tas'e of Injun travel. Better you dress light an' buckle43 up dat belt, for I got reason to fin9' out who keel Courteau. I ain't goin' sleep no more till I know."
The officer smiled as he declared: "That suits me exactly. We may not catch them, but—they'll know they've been in a race before they thumb their noses at us from across the Boundary. Now see how fast you can harness up."
It was considerably44 after midnight when 'Poleon swung his dog-team into the lighted space in front of the Rialto; nevertheless, many people were about, for Dawson was a city of sleep-haters. The sight of a racing-team equipped for a flying trip at this hour of the night evoked45 instant interest and speculation46, pointing, as it did, to a new gold discovery and a stampede. Stampedes were frequent, they never failed to create a sensation, therefore the woodsman was soon the center of an inquisitive47 crowd. Not until he had fully34 explained the nature of his business was suspicion allayed48; then his word that Joe and Frank McCaskey had fled for the Boundary ran up and down the street and caused even greater excitement.
Rouletta came hurrying forth49 with the others, and to her 'Poleon made known his intention of accompanying the fleet-footed Rock.
"Nobody is able to catch dem feller but him an' me," he explained. "Dey got too long start."
"Five, six hour, dat's beeg edge. But me—" The speaker shrugged52. "Forty Mile, Circle, Fort Yukon, Rampart, it mak' no differ. I get 'em some place, if I go plumb53 to St. Michael's. When I get goin' fas' it tak' me long tam for run down."
Rouletta's eyes opened. "But, 'Poleon—you can't! There's the Boundary.
You're not an officer; you have no warrant."
"Dem t'ing is dam' nuisance," he declared. "I don' savvy54 dis law biznesse. You say get 'em. Bien! I do it."
Rouletta stared curiously, wonderingly into the big fellow's face; she was about to put her thoughts into words when a shout arose from the crowd as the Police team streamed into view. Down the street it came at a great pace, flashing through shadows and past glaring lighted fronts, snatching the light hickory sled along behind as if it were a thing of paper. Rock balanced himself upon the runner heels until, with a shout, he put his weight upon the sharp-toothed sled brake and came to a pause near 'Poleon. The rival teams plunged55 into their collars and set up a pandemonium56 of yelping57, but willing hands held them from flying at one another's throats. Meanwhile, saloon doors were opening, the street was filling; dance-hall girls, white-aproned bartenders, bleary-eyed pedestrians58, night-owls—all the queerly assorted59 devotees of Dawson's vivid and roisterous nocturnal life hastened thither60; even the second-story windows framed heads, for this clamor put slumber61 to flight without delay.
The wind was no longer strong, and already a clearing sky was evidenced by an occasional winking62 star; nevertheless, it was bitterly cold and those who were not heavily clad were forced to stamp their feet and to whip their arms in order to keep their blood in motion.
Nothing is more exciting, more ominous63, than a man-hunt; doubly portentous64 was this one, the hasty preparations for which went forward in the dead of night. Dawson had seen the start of more than one race for the Boundary and had awaited the outcome with breathless interest. Most of the fugitives65 overtaken had walked back into town, spent, famished66, frost-blackened, but there were some who had returned on their backs, wrapped in robe or canvas and offering mute testimony67 to the speedy and relentless68 efficiency of the men from the Barracks. Of that small picked corps69 Lieutenant Rock was by long odds70 the favorite. Now, therefore, he was the center of attention, and wagers71 were laid that he would catch his men, however rapidly they traveled, however great their start. Only a few old-timers—"sour-doughs" from the distant reaches of the Yukon—knew 'Poleon Doret, but those few drew close to him and gave the lieutenant little notice. This French Canadian they regarded as the most tireless traveler in all the North; about him, therefore, they assembled, and to him they addressed their questions and offered their advice.
The dogs were inspired, now, with the full intoxication72 of the chase; they strained forward fretfully, their gray plumes73 waving, their tongues lolling, their staccato chorus adding to the general disturbance74. When the word came to go, they leaped into their harness, and with a musical jingle75 of bells they swept down toward the river; over the steep bank they poured, and were gone. A shout of encouragement followed Rock as he was snapped into the blackness, then noisily the crowd bolted for the warm interiors behind them.
Rouletta was slow in leaving; for some time she stood harkening to the swift diminuendo of those tinkling76 sleigh-bells, staring into the night as if to fix in her mind's eye the picture of what she had last seen, the picture of a mighty77 man riding the rail of a plunging78 basket sled. In spite of the biting cold he was stripped down; a thin drill parka sufficed to break the temper of the wind, light fur boots were upon his feet, the cheek pieces of his otter79 cap were tied above his crown. He had turned to wave at her and to shout a word of encouragement just before he vanished. That was like him, she told herself—eager to spare her even the pain of undue80 apprehension. The shock of her discovery of an hour ago was still too fresh in Rouletta's memory; it was still too new and too agitating81 to permit of orderly thought, yet there it stood, stark82 and dismaying. This woodsman loved her, no longer as a sister, but as the one woman of his choice. As yet she could not reconcile herself to such a state of affairs; her attempts to do so filled her with mixed emotions. Poor 'Poleon! Why had this come to him? Rouletta's throat swelled83; tears not of the wind or the cold stood in her eyes once again; an aching tenderness and pity welled up from her heart.
She became conscious finally that her body was growing numb84, so she bestirred herself. She had taken but a step or two, however, when some movement in the shadows close at hand arrested her. Peering into the gloom, she discovered a figure. It was Laure.
The girl wore some sort of wrap, evidently snatched at random85, but under it she was clad in her dance-hall finery, and she, too, was all but frozen.
Rouletta was about to move on, when the other addressed her through teeth that clicked like castanets.
"I got here—late. Is it true? Have they—gone after Joe and Frank?"
"Yes."
"What happened? I—I haven't heard. Don't they think—Pierce did it?"
"You KNOW he didn't do it," Rouletta cried. "Neither did he steal
Courteau's money."
"What do you mean, 'I know'?" Laure's voice was harsh, imperative86. She clutched at the other girl; then, as Rouletta hesitated, she regained87 control of herself and ran on, in a tone bitterly resentful: "Oh, you'd like to get him out of it—save him for yourself—wouldn't you? But you can't. You can't have him. I won't let you. My God! Letty, he's the only thing I ever cared for! I never had even a dog or a cat or a canary of my own. Think a little bit of me."
Almost dazed by this mingled88 accusation89 and appeal, Rouletta at length responded by a question, "Then why haven't you done something to clear him?"
Laure drew her flimsy wrap closer; she was shaking wretchedly. When she spoke her words were spilled from her lips as if by the tremors90 of her body. "I could help. I would, but—you sha'n't have him. Nobody shall! I'd rather see him dead. I'd—No, no! I don't know what I'm saying. I'd sooner die than hurt him. I'd do my bit, only—McCaskey'd kill me. Say. Will Rock get him, d'you think? I hear he gets his man every time. But Joe's different; he's not the ordinary kind; he's got the devil in him. Frank—he's a dog, but Joe'll fight. He'll kill—at the drop of the hat. So will Rock, I suppose. Maybe he'll kill them both, eh? Or maybe they'll kill him and get away. I don't care which way it goes—"
"Don't talk like that!" Rouletta exclaimed.
"I mean it," Laure ran on, crazily. "Yes, Joe'd kill anybody that stood in his way or doublecrossed him. I guess I know. Why, he told me so himself! And Courteau knew it, perfectly91 well—the poor fool!—but look at him now. He got his, didn't he?"
Rouletta laid a cold hand upon the shivering, distracted creature before her. Sternly she said:
"I believe you know who committed that murder. You act as if you did."
"I'm a g-good guesser, but—I can keep my mouth shut. I know when I'm well off. That's more than the Count knew."
"And you probably know something about his robbery, too. I mean that gold-sack—"
Laure cast off the hand that rested upon her; she looked up quickly. "If I did, d'you think I'd tell you? Well, hardly. But I don't. I don't know anything, except that—Pierce is a thief. He stole and gave me the money. He did that regularly, and that's more than he'd do for you. You may as well know the truth. Cavendish knows it. You think he's too good for me, don't you? Well, he isn't. And you're no better than I am, either, for that matter. You've got a nerve to put on airs. God! How I hate you and your superior ways."
"Never mind me. I want to know who killed Count Courteau."
"All right. Wait till Rock comes back and ask him. He thinks he'll find out, but—we'll see. Joe McCaskey'll be over the Line and away, thank Heaven! If anything happens and they should overtake him—well, he'll fight. He'll never come in alive, never." Turning, the speaker stumbled toward the lights of the saloon, and as she went Rouletta heard her mutter again: "He'll never come in alive, never. Thank God for that!"
该作者的其它作品
《The Barrier》
《The Auction Block》
该作者的其它作品
《The Barrier》
《The Auction Block》
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71 wagers | |
n.赌注,用钱打赌( wager的名词复数 )v.在(某物)上赌钱,打赌( wager的第三人称单数 );保证,担保 | |
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72 intoxication | |
n.wild excitement;drunkenness;poisoning | |
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73 plumes | |
羽毛( plume的名词复数 ); 羽毛饰; 羽毛状物; 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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74 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
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75 jingle | |
n.叮当声,韵律简单的诗句;v.使叮当作响,叮当响,押韵 | |
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76 tinkling | |
n.丁当作响声 | |
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77 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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78 plunging | |
adj.跳进的,突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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79 otter | |
n.水獭 | |
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80 undue | |
adj.过分的;不适当的;未到期的 | |
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81 agitating | |
搅动( agitate的现在分词 ); 激怒; 使焦虑不安; (尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而)激烈争论 | |
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82 stark | |
adj.荒凉的;严酷的;完全的;adv.完全地 | |
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83 swelled | |
增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 ); 肿胀; (使)凸出; 充满(激情) | |
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84 numb | |
adj.麻木的,失去感觉的;v.使麻木 | |
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85 random | |
adj.随机的;任意的;n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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86 imperative | |
n.命令,需要;规则;祈使语气;adj.强制的;紧急的 | |
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87 regained | |
复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 ); 赢回; 重回; 复至某地 | |
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88 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
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89 accusation | |
n.控告,指责,谴责 | |
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90 tremors | |
震颤( tremor的名词复数 ); 战栗; 震颤声; 大地的轻微震动 | |
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91 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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