CHAPTER XXIV
"POKER" JOHN ACCEPTS
"Ah!"
There was a tone of drunken suspicion about the exclamation which wasnot lost on Lablache.
"If you were suddenly called upon to meet your liabilities to me, John,"said the money-lender, smiling, "how would it fix you?"
"It would mean ruin," replied John, hoarsely.
Lablache cleared his throat and snorted. Then he smiled benignly uponhis old companion.
"That's just what I thought. Well, you're not going to be ruined--by me.I'm going to burn the mortgages and settle with the Calford Trust andLoan Co. myself--"
The rancher feared to trust his ears.
"That is if you are willing to do something for me."
In his eager hope John Allandale had leant forward so as not to miss aword the other said. Now, however, he threw himself back in his chair.Some suspicion was in his mind. It might have been intuition. He knewLablache well. He laughed cynically.
"That's more like you," he said roughly.
"One moment," said the money-lender; the smile vanished from his lips."Fair play's good medicine. We'll wipe out your debts if you'll tellyour niece that you want her to marry me."
"I'll--I'll--"
"Hold on, John," with upraised hand, as the old man purpled with rageand started to shout.
"I'll see you damned first!" The rancher had lurched on to his feet andhis fist came down with a crash upon the corner of the table. Lablacheremained unmoved.
"Tut tut, man; now listen to me." The old man towered unsteadily overhim. "I can't understand your antipathy to me as a husband for yourniece. Give your consent--she'll do it for you--and, on my wedding day,I burn those mortgages and I'll settle 100,000 dollars upon Jacky.Besides this I'll put 200,000 dollars into your ranch to develop it, andonly ask ten per cent, of the profits. Can I speak fairer? That girl ofyours is a good girl, John; too good to kick about the prairie. I'llmake her a good husband. She shall do as she pleases, live where shelikes. You can always be with us if you choose. It's no use being riled,John, I'm making an honest proposition."
The rancher calmed. In the face of such a generous proposal he could notinsult Lablache. He was determined, however. It was strange, perhaps,that any suggestion for his influence to be used in his niece's choiceof a husband should have such a violent effect upon him. But "Poker"John was a curious mixture of weakness and honor. He loved his niecewith a doting affection. She was the apple of his eye. To him thethought of personal benefit at the cost of her happiness was asacrilege. Lablache understood this. He knew that on this point therancher's feelings amounted to little short of mania. And yet hepersisted. John's nature was purely obstinate, and obstinacy isweakness. The money-lender knew that obstinacy could be broken down bysteady determination. However, time, with him, was now everything. Hemust clinch the deal with as little delay as possible if he would escapefrom Foss River and the ruinous attacks of Retief. This thought was everpresent with him and urged him to press the old man hard. If JohnAllandale would not be reasonable, he, Lablache, must force anacceptance of his terms from him.
The rancher was mollified. His dulled brain suddenly saw a loop-hole ofescape.
"I guess you mean well enough, Lablache. But say, ask the childyourself."
The other shook his massive head.
"I have--she has refused."
"Then why in thunder do you come to me?"
The angry light was again in the rancher's bloodshot eyes.
"Why? Because she will marry me if you choose. She can't refuse--shedare not."
"Then, by God, I'll refuse for her--"
He paused disconcertedly in his wrath. Lablache's cold eyes fixed himwith their icy stare.
"Very well, John," said Lablache, with a contemptuous shrug. "You knowthe inevitable result of such a hasty decision. It means ruin toyou--beggary to that poor child." His teeth snapped viciously. Then hesmiled with his mouth. "I can only put your de--refusal down to utter,unworthy selfishness."
"Not selfishness, Lablache--not that. I would sacrifice everything inthe world for that child--"
"Except your own pleasure--your own personal comforts. Bah, man!" withscathing contempt, "your object must be plain to the veriest fool. Youdo not wish to lose her. You fear to lose your best servant lest inconsequence you find the work of the ranch thrust upon your own hands.You would have no time to indulge your love of play. You would no longerbe able to spend three parts of your time in 'old man' Smith's filthybar. Your conduct is laudable, John--it is worthy of you."
Lablache had expected another outburst of anger, but John only leered inresponse to the other's contempt. Drunk as he was, the rancher saw theabsurdity of the attack.
"Piffle!" he exclaimed. "Now see, when Jacky comes in you shall hearwhat she has to say."
"Poker" John smiled with satisfaction at his own 'cuteness. He felt thathe had outwitted the astute usurer. His simplicity, however, was of aninfantile order.
"That would be useless." Lablache did not want to be confronted withJacky. "My mind is quite made up. The Calford Trust will beginproceedings at once, unless--"
"Unless I give my consent."
The satisfaction had suddenly died out of John Allandale's face. Even inhis maudlin condition he understood the relentless purpose which backedthe money-lender's proposal. To his credit be it said that he wasthinking only of Jacky--the one being who was dearer to him than allelse in the world. For himself he had no thought--he did not care whathappened. But he longed to save his niece from the threatenedcatastrophe. His seared old face worked in his distress. Lablache beheldthe sign, and knew that he was weakening.
"Why force me to extremities, John?" he said presently. "If you wouldonly be reasonable, I feel sure you would have no matter for regret.Now, suppose I went a step further."
"No--no," weakly. There followed a pause. John Allandale avoided theother's eyes. To the old man the silence of the room became intolerable.He opened his lips to speak. Then he closed them--only to open themagain. "But--but what step do you propose? Is--is it honest?"
"Perfectly." Lablache was smiling in that indulgent manner he knew sowell how to assume. "And it might appeal to you. Pressure is a thing Ihate. Now--suppose we leave the matter to--to chance."
"Chance?" The rancher questioned the other doubtfully.
"Yes--why not?" The money-lender's smile broadened and he leaned forwardto impress his hearer the more surely. "A little game--a game of poker,eh?"
John Allandale shook his head. He failed to grasp the other's meaning.
"I don't understand," he said, struggling with the liquor which foggedhis dull brain.
"No, of course you don't," easily. "Now listen to me and I'll tell youwhat I mean." The money-lender spoke as though addressing a waywardchild. "The stakes shall be my terms against your influence with Jacky.If you win you keep your girl, and I cancel your mortgages; if I win Imarry your girl under the conditions I have already offered. It's whollyan arrangement for your benefit. All I can possibly gain is your girl.Whichever way the game goes I must pay. Saints alive--but what an oldfool I am!" He laughed constrainedly. "For the sake of a pretty face I'mgoing to give you everything--but there," seriously, "I'd do more to winthat sweet child for my wife. What d'you say, John?"
There could be no doubt that Lablache meant what he said, only he mighthave put it differently. Had he said that there was nothing at which hewould stop to secure Jacky, it would have been more in keeping with thefacts, He meant to marry the girl. His bilious eyes watered. There was asensual look in them. His heavy lips parted and closed with a suckingsmack as though expressing appreciation of a tasty morsel.
John remained silent, but into his eyes had leapt a gleam which told ofthe lust of gaming aroused. His look--his whole face spoke for him.Lablache had primed his hook with an irresistible bait. He knew his man.
"See," he went on, as the other remained silent, "this is the way we canarrange it. We will play 'Jackpots' only. The best sev
en out ofthirteen. It will be a pretty game, in which, from an outsider's pointof view, I alone can be the loser. If I win I shall consider myselfamply repaid. If I lose--well," with an expressive movement of thehands, "I will take my chance--as a sportsman should. I love your niece,John, and will risk everything to win her. Now, think of it. It will bethe sweetest, prettiest gamble. And, too, think of the stake. A fortune,John--a fortune for you. And for me a bare possibility of realizing myhopes."
The old gambler's last vestige of honor struggled to make itselfapparent in a negative movement of the head. But the movement would notcome. His thoughts were of the game, and ere yet the last words of themoney-lender had ceased to sound, he was captured. The satanic cunningof the proposal was lost upon his sodden intellect. It was acontemptible, pitiable piece of chicanery with which Lablache sought totrap the old man into giving his consent and assistance. Themoney-lender had no intention of losing the game. He knew he must win.He was merely resorting to this means because he knew the gamblingspirit of the rancher. He knew that "Poker" John's obstinacy was proofagainst any direct attack; that no persuasion would induce the consenthe desired. The method of a boxer pounding the body of an opponent whomhe knows to be afflicted with some organic weakness of the heart is nomore cowardly than was Lablache's proposal.
The rancher still remained silent. Lablache moved in his chair; one ofhis great fat hands rested for a moment on John's coat sleeve.
"Now, old friend," he said, with a hoarse, whistling breath. "Shall youplay--play the game? It will be a grand finale to themany--er--comfortable games we have played together. Well? Thirteen'Jackpots,' John--yes?"
"And--and if I consented--mind, I only say 'if.'" The rancher's facetwitched nervously.
"You would stand to win a fortune--and also one for your niece."
"Yes--yes. I might win. My luck may turn."
"It must--you cannot always lose."
"Quite right--I must win soon. It is a great offer--a splendid stake."
"It is."
"Yes--yes, Lablache, I will play. God, man! I will play you!"
Beads of sweat stood on John Allandale's forehead as he literally hurledhis acceptance at his companion. He accepted in the manner of one whoknows he is setting at defiance all honesty and right, urged to such acourse by an all-mastering passion, which he is incapable of resisting.
Strange was the nature of this man. He knew himself as it is given tofew weak men to know themselves. He knew that he wished to do thisthing. He knew, also, that he was doing wrong. Moreover he knew that hewished to stand by Jacky and be true to his great affection for her. Hewas under the influence of potent spirit, and yet his thoughts andjudgment were clear upon the subject. His mania had possessed him and hewould play from choice; and all the while he could hear the voice ofconscience rating him. He would have preferred to play now, but then heremembered the quantity of spirit he had consumed. He must take nochances. When he played Lablache he must be sober. The delay of onenight, however, he knew would bring him agonies of remorse, therefore hewould settle everything now so that in the throes of conscience he couldnot refuse to play. He feared delay. He feared the vacillation which thesolitary hours of the night might bring to him. He leant forward andthickly urged the money-lender.
"When shall it be? Quick, man, let us have no delay. The time,Lablache--the time and place."
Lablache wheezed unctuously.
"That's the spirit I like, John," he said, fingering his watch-chainwith his fat hands. "To business. The place--er--yes." A moment'sthought whilst the rancher waited with impatience. "Ah, I know. Thatimplement shed on your fifty-acre pasture. Excellent. There is a livingroom in it. You used to keep a man there. It is disused now. It willsuit us admirably. We can use that room. And the time--"
"To-morrow, Lablache. It must be to-morrow. I could not wait longer,"broke in the other, in a voice husky with eagerness and liquor. "Afterdark, when no one can see us going out to the shed. No one must know,Lablache, mind--no one. Jacky will not dream of what we are doing."
"Very well. To-morrow, then. At eleven o'clock at night, John. And asyou say in the meantime--mum."
Lablache was pleased with the rancher's suggestion. It quite fell inwith his own ideas. Everything must be done quickly now. He must getaway from Foss River without delay.
"Yes--yes. Mum's the word." "Poker" John indicated his approval with anupward leer as Lablache rose from his chair, and a grotesque pursing ofhis lips and his forefinger at the side of his nose. Then he, too,struggled to his feet, and, with unsteady hand, poured out two stiff"horns" of whisky.
He held one out to the money-lender and took the other himself.
"I drink to the game," he said haltingly. "May--fortune come my way."
Lablache nodded comprehensively and slowly raised his glass.
"Fortune is yours anyhow. Therefore I trust that I win the game."
The two men silently drank. After which Lablache turned to go. He pausedat the French window and plunged his hand into his coat pocket.
The night was dark outside, and again he became a prey to his moralterror of the half-breed raider. He drew out his revolver and opened thechamber. The weapon was loaded. Then he turned to old John who wasstaring at him.
"It's risky for me to move about at night, John. I fear Retief has notdone with me yet. Good-night," and he passed out on to the veranda.
Lablache was the victim of a foreboding. It is a custom to laugh atforebodings and set them down to the vagaries of a disordered stomach.We laugh too at superstition. Yet how often do we find that theportentous significance of these things is actually realized in fact.Lablache dreaded Retief.
What would the next twenty-four hours bring forth?
The Story of the Foss River Ranch: A Tale of the Northwest Page 24