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

by Ridgwell Cullum

  CHAPTER XVI

  GAUTIER CAUSES DISSENSION

  "Sit down and let me hear the--worst."

  Lablache's voice rasped harshly as he delivered his mandate. Horrockshad just arrived at the money-lender's store after his visit to thehalf-breed camp. The police-officer looked weary. And the dejectedexpression on his face had drawn from his companion the hesitatingsuperlative.

  "Have you got anything to eat?" Horrocks retorted quickly, ignoring theother's commands. "I am famished. Had nothing since I set out fromStormy Cloud. I can't talk on an empty stomach."

  Lablache struck a table bell sharply, and one of his clerks, all of whomwere still working in the store, entered. The money-lender's clerksalways worked early and late. It was part of the great man's creed tosweat his _employees_.

  "Just go over to the saloon, Markham, and tell them to send supper forone--something substantial," he called out after the man, who hastenedto obey with the customary precipitance of all who served the flintyfinancier.

  The man disappeared in a twinkling and Lablache turned to his visitoragain.

  "They'll send it over at once. There's some whisky in that bottle,"pointing to a small cabinet, through the glass door of which gleamed thewhite label of "special Glenlivet." "Help yourself. It'll buck you up."

  Horrocks obeyed with alacrity, and the genial spirit considerablyrefreshed him. He then reseated himself opposite to his host, who hadfaced round from his desk.

  "My news is not the--worst, as you seem to anticipate; although,perhaps, it might have been better," the officer began. "In fact, I amfairly well pleased with the result of my day's work."

  "Which means, I take it, that you have discovered a clew."

  Lablache's heavy eyes gleamed.

  "Rather more than a clew," Horrocks went on reflectively. "Myinformation relates more to the man than to the beasts. We shall, Ithink, lay our hands on this--Retief."

  "Good--good," murmured the money-lender, inclining his heavy jowledhead. "Find the man and we shall recover the cattle."

  "I am not so sure of that," put in the other. "However, we shall see."

  Lablache looked slightly disappointed. The capture of Retief seemed tohim synonymous with the recovery of his stock. However, he waited forhis visitor to proceed. The money-lender was essentially a man to drawhis own conclusions after hearing the facts, and no opinion of anotherwas likely to influence him when once those conclusions were arrived at.Lablache was a strong man mentally and physically. And few cared tocombat his decisions or opinions.

  For a moment further talk was interrupted by the entry of a man withHorrocks's supper. When the fellow had withdrawn the police-officerbegan his repast and the narration of his story at the same time.Lablache watched and listened with an undisturbed concentration. He lostno point, however small, in the facts as stated by the officer. Herefrained from interruption, excepting where the significance of certainpoints in the story escaped him, and, at the conclusion, he was asconversant with the situation as though he had been present at theinvestigation. The great man was profoundly impressed with what heheard. Not so much with the shrewdness of the officer as with the simplesignificance of the loss of further trace of the cattle at the edge ofthe muskeg. Up to this point of the story he felt assured that Horrockswas to be perfectly relied upon, but, for the rest, he was not so sure.He felt that though this man was the finest tracker in the country thedelicate science of deduction was not necessarily an accompaniment tohis prairie abilities. Therefore, for the moment, he concentrated histhoughts upon the features surrounding the great keg.

  "It is a curious thing," he said retrospectively, as the policemanceased speaking, "that in all previous raids of this Retief we haveinvariably tracked the lost stock down to this point. Of course, as yousay, there is not the slightest doubt that the beasts have been herdedover the keg. Everything seems to me to hinge on the discovery of thatpath. That is the problem which confronts us chiefly. How are we to findthe secret of the crossing?"

  "It cannot be done," said Horrocks, simply but with decision.

  "Nonsense," exclaimed the other, with a heavy gasp of breath. "Retiefknows it, and the others with him. Those cattle could not have beenherded over single-handed. Now to me it seems plain that the crossing isa very open secret amongst the Breeds."

  "And I presume you consider that we should work chiefly on thathypothesis?"

  "Exactly."

  "And you do not consider the possible capture of Retief as being themost important feature of the case?"

  "Important--certainly. But, for the moment, of minor consideration. Oncewe discover the means by which he secretes his stock--and thehiding-place--we can stop his depredations and turn all our energies tohis capture. You follow me? At first I was inclined to think with youthat the capture of the man would be the best thing. But now it seems tome that the easiest method of procedure will be the discovery of thatpath."

  The rasping tone in which Lablache spoke conveyed to the other hisunalterable conviction. The prairie man, however, remained unconvinced.

  "Well," he replied, after a moment's deliberation, "I cannot say I agreewith you. Open secret or not, I've a notion that we'd stand a betterchance of discovering the profoundest of state secrets than elicitinformation, even supposing them to possess it, of this description fromthe Breeds. I expect Gautier here in a few minutes; we shall hear whathe has to say."

  "I trust he _may_ have something to say."

  Lablache snapped his reply out in that peculiar tone of his which spokevolumes. It never failed to anger him to have his opinions gainsaid.Then his manner changed slightly, and his mood seemed to becomecontemplative. Horrocks observed the change and wondered what wascoming. The money-lender cleared his throat and spat into the stove.Then he spoke with that slow deliberation which was his when thinkingdeeply.

  "Two years ago, when Retief did what he liked in this part of thecountry, there were many stories going about as to his relationship witha certain lady in this settlement."

  "Miss Allandale--yes, I have heard."

  "Just so; some said that she--er--was very partial to him. Some, thatthey were distantly connected. All were of opinion that she knew a greatdeal of the man if she only chose to tell. These stories weregossip--merely. These small places are given to gossip. But I mustconfess to a belief that gossip is often--always, in fact--founded on acertain amount of fact."

  There was no niceness of feeling about this mountain of obesity inmatters of business. He spoke as callously of the girl, for whom heentertained his unholy passion, as he would speak of a stranger. Heexperienced no compunction in linking her name with that of an outlaw.His gross nature was of too low an order to hold anything sacred wherehis money-bags were affected.

  "Perhaps you--er--do not know," he pursued, carefully lighting his pipeand pressing the charred tobacco down with the tip of his little finger,"that this girl is the daughter of a Breed mother?"

  "Guess I hadn't a notion."

  Horrocks's keen eyes flashed with interest. He too lit his pipe as helounged back in his chair.

  "She is a quarter-breed, and, moreover, the esteem in which she is heldby the skulking inhabitants of the camp inclines me to the beliefthat--er--judicious--er--handling--"

  "You mean that through her we might obtain the information we require?"

  Horrocks punctuated the other's deliberate utterances with hastyeagerness. Lablache permitted a vague smile about the corners of hismouth, his eyes remained gleaming coldly.

  "You anticipate me. The matter would need delicate handling. What MissAllandale has done in the past will not be easy to find out. Granting,of course, that gossip has not wronged her," he went on doubtfully. "Onsecond thoughts, perhaps you had better leave that source of informationto me."

  He relapsed apparently into deep thought. His pensive deliberation wasfull of guile. He had a purpose to achieve which necessitated thesuggestion which he had made to this representative of the law. Hewished to impress upon his companion
a certain connivance on the partof, at least, one member of the house of Allandale with the doings ofthe raider. He merely wished to establish a suspicion in the mind of theofficer. Time and necessity might develop it, if it suited Lablache'sschemes that such should occur. In the meantime he knew he could directthis man's actions as he chose.

  The calm superiority of the money-lender was not lost upon hiscompanion. Horrocks was nettled, and showed it.

  "But you'll pardon me, Mr. Lablache. You have offered me a source ofinformation which, as a police-officer, it is my duty to sound. As youyourself admit, the old stories of a secret love affair may have somefoundation in fact. Accept that and what possibilities are not openedup? Had I been employed on the affairs of Retief, during his previousraids, I should certainly have worked upon so important a clew."

  "Tut, tut, man," retorted the other, sharply. "I understood you to be akeen man at your business. A single ill-timed move in the direction weare discussing and the fat will be in the fire. The girl is as smart aspaint; at the first inkling of your purpose she'll curl up--shut up likea rat trap. The Breeds will be warned and we shall be further offsuccess than ever. No, no, when it comes to handling Jacky Allandale youleave it to me--Ah!"

  Lablache's ejaculation was the result of the sudden apparition of a darkface peering in at his window. He swung round with lightning rapidity,and before Horrocks could realize what he was doing his fat hand wasgrasping the butt of a revolver. Then, with a grunt of annoyance, heturned back to his guest.

  "That's your Breed, I take it. For the moment I thought it was some oneelse; it's always best in these parts to shoot first and inquireafterwards. I occasionally get some strange visitors."

  The policeman laughed as he went to the door. His irritation at themoney-lender's manner was forgotten. The strangeness of the sight ofLablache's twenty stone of flesh moving with lightning rapidityastonished him beyond measure. Had he not seen it nothing would haveconvinced him of the man's marvelous agility when roused by emergency.It was something worth remembering.

  Sure enough, the face on the other side of the window belonged toGautier, and, as Horrocks opened the door, the Breed pushed his waystealthily in.

  "It's all right, boss," said the man, with some show of anxiety, "I'veslipped 'em. I'm watched pretty closely, but--good evening, sir," hewent on, turning to Lablache with obsequious politeness. "This is badmedicine--this business we're on."

  Lablache cleared his throat and spat, but deigned no reply. He intendedto take no part in the ensuing conversation. He only wished to observe.

  Horrocks at once became the officer to the subordinate. He turnedsharply on the Breed.

  "Cut the cackle and come to business. Have you anything to tell us aboutthis Retief? Out with it sharp."

  "That depends, boss," said the man, with a cunning smile. "As you sez.Cut the cackle and come to business. Business means a deal, and a dealmeans 'cash pappy.' Wot's the figger?"

  There was no obsequious politeness about the fellow now. He was about asbad a specimen of the Breed as could well be found. Hence his lateemployment by the authorities. "The worse the Breed the better the spy,"was the motto of those whose duty it was to investigate crime. Gautierwas an excellent spy, thoroughly unscruplous and rapacious. Hisinformation was always a saleable commodity, and he generally found hismarket a liberal one. But with business instincts worthy of Lablachehimself he was accustomed to bargain first and impart after.

  "See here," retorted Horrocks, "I don't go about blind-folded. Neitheram I going to fling bills around without getting value for 'em. What'syour news? Can you lay hands on Retief, or tell us where the stock ishidden?"

  "Guess you're looking fer somethin' now," said the man, impudently. "EfI could supply that information right off some 'un 'ud hev to dip deepin his pocket fur it. I ken put you on to a good even trail, an' fiftydollars 'ud be small pay for the trouble an' the danger I'm put to. Wotsay? Fifty o' the best greenbacks?"

  "Mr. Lablache can pay you if he chooses, but until I know that yourinformation's worth it I don't part with fifty cents. Now then, we'vehad dealings before, Gautier--dealings which have not always been toyour credit. You can trust me to part liberally if you've anythingworth telling, but mind this, you don't get anything beforehand, and ifyou don't tell us all you know, in you go to Calford and a diet ofskilly'll be your lot for some time to come."

  The man's face lowered considerably at this. He knew Horrocks well, andwas perfectly aware that he would be as good as his word. There wasnothing to be gained by holding out. Therefore he accepted theinevitable with as bad a grace as possible. Lablache kept silence, buthe was reading the Breed as he would a book.

  "See hyar, sergeant," said Gautier, sulkily, "you're mighty hard on theBreeds, an' you know it. It'll come back on you, sure, one o' thesedays. Guess I'm going to play the game square. It ain't fur me to bluffmen o' your kidney, only I like to know that you're going to treat meright. Well, this is what I've got to say, an' it's worth fifty asyou'll 'low."

  Horrocks propped himself upon the corner of the money-lender's desk andprepared to listen. Lablache's lashless eyes were fixed with a steady,unblinking stare upon the half-breed's face. Not a muscle of his ownpasty, cruel face moved. Gautier was talking to, at least, one man whowas more cunning and devilish than himself.

  The dusky ruffian gave a preliminary cough and then launched upon hisstory with all the flowery embellishments of which his inventive fancywas capable. What he had to tell was practically the same as Horrockshad overheard. There were a few items of importance which came fresh tothe police-officer's ears. It stuck Lablache that the man spoke in themanner of a lesson well learned, and, in consequence, his keen interestsoon relaxed. Horrocks, however, judged differently, and saw in theman's story a sound corroboration of his own information. As the storyprogressed his interest deepened, and at its conclusion he questionedthe half-breed closely.

  "This pusky. I suppose it will be the usual drunken orgie?"

  "I guess," was the laconic rejoinder.

  "Any of the Breeds from the other settlements coming over?"

  "Can't say, boss. Like enough, I take it."

  "And what is Retief's object in defraying all expenses--in giving thetreat, when he knows that the white men are after him red-hot?"

  "Mebbe it's bluff--cheek. Peter's a bold man. He snaps his fingers atthe police," replied Gautier, illustrating his words with muchappreciation. He felt he was getting a smack at the sergeant.

  "Then Peter's a fool."

  "Guess you're wrong thar. Peter's the slickest 'bad man' I've heerd tellof."

  "We'll see. Now what about the keg? Of course the cattle have crossedit. A secret path?"

  "Yup."

  "Who knows the secret of it?"

  "Peter."

  "Only?"

  The Breed hesitated. His furtive eyes shifted from one face to the otherof his auditors. Then encountering the fixed stare of both men heglanced away towards the window. He seemed uncomfortable under the muteinquiry. Then he went on doubtfully.

  "I guess thar's others. It's an old secret among the Breeds. An' I'veheerd tell as some whites knows it."

  A swift exchange of meaning glances passed between the two listeners.

  "Who?"

  "Can't say."

  "Won't--you mean?"

  "No, boss. Ef I knew it 'ud pay me well to tell. Guess I don't know.I've tried to find out."

  "Now look you. Retief has always been supposed to have been drowned inthe keg. Where's he been all the time?"

  The half-breed grinned. Then his face became suddenly serious. He beganto think the cross-questioning was becoming too hot He decided to drawon his imagination.

  "Peter was no more drowned than I was. He tricked you--us all--into thatbelief. Gee!--but he's slick. Peter went to Montana. When the States gottoo sultry fur 'im he jest came right back hyar. He's been at the campfur two weeks an' more."

  Horrocks was silent after this. Then he turned to Lablache.

 
; "Anything you'd like to ask him?"

  The money-lender shook his head and Horrocks turned back to his man.

  "I guess that's all. Here's your fifty," he went on, taking a roll ofbills from his pocket and counting out the coveted greenbacks. "See anddon't get mad drunk and get to shooting. Off you go. If you learnanything more I'm ready to pay for it."

  Gautier took the bills and hastily crammed them into his pocket as if hefeared he might be called upon to return them. Then he made for thedoor. He hesitated before he passed out.

  "Say, sergeant, you ain't goin' fur to try an' take 'im at the pusky?"he asked, with an appearance of anxiety.

  "That's my business. Why?"

  The Breed shrugged.

  "Ye'll feed the coyotes, sure as--kingdom come. Say they'll jest flaythe pelt off yer."

  "Git!"

  The rascal "got" without further delay or evil prophecy. He knewHorrocks.

  When the door closed, and the officer had assured himself of the man'sdeparture, he turned to his host.

  "Well?"

  "Well?" retorted Lablache.

  "What do you make of it?"

  "An excellent waste of fifty dollars."

  Lablache's face was expressive of indifference mixed with incredulity.

  "He told you what you already knew," he pursued, "and drew on hisimagination for the rest. I'll swear that Retief has not been seen atthe Breed camp for the last fortnight. Moreover, that man was reciting acarefully-thought-out tale. I fancy you have something yet to learn inyour business, Horrocks. You have not the gift of reading men."

  The police-officer's face was a study. As he listened to the masterfultone of his companion his color came and went. His dark skin flushed andthen rapidly paled. A blaze of anger leapt into his keen, flashing eyes.Lablache had flicked him sorely. He struggled to keep cool.

  "Unfortunately my position will not allow me to fall out with you," hesaid, with scarcely-suppressed heat, "otherwise I should call yousharply to account for your insulting remarks. For the moment we willpass them over. In the meantime, Mr. Lablache, let me tell you, myexperience leads me to trust largely to the story of that man. Gautierhas sold me a good deal of excellent information in the past, and I amconvinced that what I have now heard is not the least of his efforts inthe law's behalf. Rascal--scoundrel--as he is, he would not dare to setme on a false scent--"

  "Not if backed by a man like Retief--and all the half-breed camp? Yousurprise me."

  Horrocks gritted his teeth but spoke sharply. Lablache's supercilioustone of mockery drove him to the verge of madness.

  "Not even under these circumstances. I shall attend that pusky andeffect the arrest. I understand these people better than you give mecredit for. I presume your discretion will not permit you to be presentat the capture?"

  It was Horrocks's turn to sneer now. Lablache remained unmoved. Hemerely permitted the ghost of a smile.

  "My discretion will not permit me to be present at the pusky. There willbe no capture, I fear."

  "Then I'll bid you good-night. There is no need to further intrude uponyour time."

  "None whatever."

  The money-lender did not attempt to show the policeman anyconsideration. He had decided that Horrocks was a fool, and whenLablache formed such an opinion of a man he rarely attempted to concealit, especially when the man stood in a subordinate position.

  After seeing the officer off the premises, Lablache moved heavily backto his desk. The alarm clock indicated ten minutes to nine. He stood forsome moments gazing with introspective eyes at the timepiece. He wasthinking hard. He was convinced that what he had just heard was a merefabrication, invented to cover some ulterior motive. That motive puzzledhim. He had no fear for Horrocks's life. Horrocks wore the uniform ofthe Government. Lawless and all as the Breeds were, he knew they wouldnot resist the police--unless, of course, Retief were there. Havingdecided in his mind that Retief would not be there he had no misgivings.He failed to fathom the trend of affairs at all. In spite of his outwardcalm he felt uneasy, and he started as though he had been shot when heheard a loud knocking at his private door.

  The money-lender's hand dropped on to the revolver lying upon the desk,and he carried the weapon with him when he went to answer the summons.His alarm was needless. His late visitor was "Poker" John.

  The old rancher came in sheepishly enough. There was no mistaking themeaning of his peculiar crouching gait, the leering upward glance of hisbloodshot eyes. To any one who did not know him, his appearance mighthave been that of a drink-soaked tramp, so dishevelled and bleared helooked. Lablache took in the old man's condition in one swift glancefrom his pouched and fishy eyes. His greeting was cordial--too cordial.Any other but the good-hearted, simple old man would have beensuspicious of it. Cordiality was not Lablache's nature.

  "Ah, John, better late than never," he exclaimed gutturally. "Come inand have a smoke."

  "Yes, I thought I'd just come right down and--see if you'd got anynews."

  "None--none, old friend. Nothing at all. Horrocks is a fool, I'mthinking. Take that chair," pointing to the basket chair. "You're notlooking up to the mark. Have a nip of Glenlivet."

  He passed the white-labeled bottle over to his companion, and watchedthe rancher curiously as he shakily helped himself to a liberal "fourfingers." "Poker" John was rapidly breaking up. Lablache fully realizedthis.

  "No news--no news," murmured John, as he smacked his lips over his "tot"of whisky. "It's bad, man, very bad. We're not safe in this place whilstthat man's about. Dear, dear, dear."

  The senility of the rancher was painfully apparent. Doubtless it was theresult of his recent libations and excesses. The money-lender was quiteaware that John had not come to him to discuss the "hustler." He hadcome to suggest a game of cards, but for reasons of his own the formerwished to postpone the request. He had not expected that "Poker" Johnwould have come this evening; therefore, certain plans of his were notto have been put into execution until the following day. Now, however,it was different. John's coming, and his condition, offered him a chancewhich was too good to be missed, and Lablache was never a man to missopportunities.