Outcasts of River Falls

by Jacqueline Guest

  “My name is Kathryn Tourond. My Aunt Belle had nothing to do with this robbery and murder and more than that, the Highwayman is innocent of the charges as well!”

  The mob fell silent, and then a man’s voice was heard. “Yeah, if you believe that, then I’m King Edward.”

  There was laughing as another voice added, “What a surprise, a dirty breed sticking up for another dirty breed.”

  Sergeant Prentiss motioned for the crowd to be quiet. “Kathryn, I know you want your aunt to be free. What you need to remember is Constable Blake has proof the Highwayman did this crime and Belle was caught consorting with the outlaw.”

  “That squatter is guilty as sin and she’ll pay with her neck!” This suggestion brought resounding approval.

  “I know who stole that money!” Kathryn shouted over the tumult.

  Constable Blake glared at her. The malice in his face was frightening and Kathryn felt her knees weaken.

  Sergeant Prentiss was genuinely interested now. “Everyone is innocent until proven guilty, Kathryn, and that includes Belle. If you have new information, I need it. Who is this thief?”

  She swallowed, then straightened her spine and spoke in a clear, strong voice. “Constable Cyrus Blake stole that bank money and framed the Highwayman so that he would take the blame.”

  Blake snapped forward like a striking cobra. “You lying little half breed!”

  Pandemonium broke out and several people jostled Kathryn, one man with yellowed teeth shoved her backward and she almost fell.

  Sergeant Prentiss motioned for silence. “Cyrus was a friend to Edward Meltzer, Kathryn. He came in on his day off to help Ed guard the payroll. And we have hard evidence; we have the knife belonging to the Highwayman.” His voice was calm and reasonable, almost agreeable, but she could hear the scepticism in it.

  Cyrus Blake wasn’t about to let her accuse him. “I got the blade, alright, and I think this thievin’ squatter should see it.” He stormed back into the jail and returned seconds later with the knife which he held up for the crowd to see. “Still stained with an innocent man’s blood!” he shouted, and the crowd howled.

  “That’s not the Highwayman’s knife!” Kathryn protested. “Blake is a murderer or is an accomplice to murder. He most certainly masterminded the theft.”

  Sergeant Prentiss took the knife from Blake and shook his head sadly. “Ed was a good man.”

  This was not going as Kathryn planned. She scanned the faces in the crowd and saw that no one believed her, worse; she now heard several voices saying that she was probably in on it too and should be thrown into jail along with her aunt.

  A gasp rose from the back of the crowd, then a murmur that increased in volume. Kathryn peered over the heads of the onlookers.

  Striding jauntily down the street, a red chapeau with a shiny black feather bobbed toward the crowd. The hat sat atop a smiling young man with eyes that twinkled at her.

  It was her Prairie Puss-in-Boots and he wasn’t alone.

  With him was Madame Ducharme, old Kokum, leaning on her cane, and walking proudly beside her was a tall, raven-haired and extremely handsome man Kathryn had never seen before. He was dressed in black and on his left hip was an ivory handled knife for all to see. One arm had a bandage and Kathryn remembered the shot that had been fired when the rendezvous had been raided.

  Behind this vanguard was a large parade of people. Some Kathryn knew and they all appeared extremely determined. There was Pierre and Francis, with Joseph striding beside them. Next came Madame Garnier and her husband along with JP’s mother and her brood of boys tagging behind. A thin man with bright red hair sticking out from his head had to be Henri Beauchamp, and with him was a tiny black-haired woman and eight young children, half with carrot hair and half with their mother’s black braids.

  All the Métis in the district must have come and Kathryn wondered what had changed their minds. And more surprising was that in the crowd, she recognised some citizens of Hopeful, white citizens, including Mr. and Mrs. Jones, proudly carrying baby Louisa who waved a chubby arm to the crowd. Then she saw JP’s triumphant face and she knew who the silver-tongued persuader had been.

  The parade stopped as Kokum stamped her cane on the street, sending up a tiny cloud of fine silvery dust. “We’re here to demand justice. Belle Tourond is innocent as is my son,” she laid a loving hand on the tall stranger’s arm, “Gabriel Ducharme, whom you know as The Highwayman.”

  A murmur swept through the crowd as everyone talked at once.

  “There’s your murderer and thief, Sergeant!” Constable Blake pointed an accusing finger at Gabriel Ducharme.

  The venom in Blake’s tone was easy to hear and Kathryn remembered how the constable had lost his ear.

  The tall stranger stepped forward. “I am the Highwayman. I am also not the one responsible for the bank robbery or murder of that guard.” He went on in his own defence. “I was forced to act under cover of darkness as I knew the Métis rights were being trampled and they would get no help from the law.” Here Sergeant Prentiss had the decency to look ashamed. “I also knew that Constable Blake would try again to kill me if it were known that his first attempt, when he shot me in the back, had been unsuccessful. I had to stay hidden so that I could continue to help my people.”

  The sergeant’s calculating gaze took in the wounded stranger. “We have proof that it was the Highwayman committed the robbery and killed the guard in cold blood: eyewitness testimony from Constable Blake – and this murder weapon.” He showed the stranger the knife with its fancy antler handle.

  Gabriel removed his own knife from its sheath and held it up. “And yet, Sergeant, I still have my knife with a true ivory hilt. Ivory is a rare commodity, and I have never seen a second blade like this.”

  The sergeant mulled this over. “You know, I’ve never seen one either...before today.” He shot Blake an inquiring look, but the constable only scowled back.

  “And there is another reason I could not have committed that crime, Sergeant Prentiss.” The man Kathryn now knew was Gabriel Ducharme continued. “On the night of the robbery, I was with Belle Tourond. She can verify this.”

  “We’d best get Belle out here, Cyrus. Go fetch her from the cells.”

  Reluctantly, the constable disappeared into the jail and appeared moments later gripping Aunt Belle by the arm.

  He shoved her forward and even from where she stood, Kathryn could see the angry red welt where his fist had been.

  “Belle, this man,” the sergeant tipped his head toward Gabriel, “says you and he were together the night of the robbery. Is that true?”

  Kathryn saw her aunt’s face light up when she saw Gabriel. “Yes, Sergeant, we were.”

  “I don’t mean to be indelicate, Belle, but was he with you all night?”

  Belle blushed prettily. “Until dawn.”

  “She’s lying to protect her buck,” Cyrus Blake scoffed.

  “It’s true,” Gabriel stepped forward. “We have a witness, at least for part of the night: Father Blanchet, who married us at midnight in St. Michael’s Church.”

  This revelation sent more waves through the crowd.

  The sergeant took his Stetson off and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Well, that does put a fine edge on things.”

  Kathryn was stunned. Aunt Belle married! To this stranger, this.... She watched the two of them, love written on their faces and her heart went out to them.... This Bandit du Grand Chemin, this Highwayman. She felt giddy. Her aunt beamed at her as she blew Kathryn a kiss.

  Kathryn remembered the sleeping draught her aunt had given her the night of the robbery and wondered if there had been another brew, maybe in the tea, to give her the headache in the first place.

  Then a conversation she’d had with her aunt came into Kathryn’s head in which Aunt Belle made reference to her Gabe as though he were still alive. He is the best man she’d ever met and how she cherishes every moment with him and they have a destiny together. That’s
what had clanged – the tenses were wrong – present instead of past. Although it had struck her as strange at the time, in the light of the man’s miraculous resurrection, it made perfect sense.

  Aunt Belle and the mysterious Highwayman were a fairytale right out of one of her books. It was perfect – except for one little detail. The real thief had yet to be exposed. They weren’t home and dry yet. Kathryn needed to finish what she started. “Sergeant Prentiss, there is proof that the Highwayman, I mean, Monsieur Ducharme, did not commit the robbery.” Her voice was barely heard above the noise.

  JP shouldered his way through the mob of town’s people and stood beside Kathryn. He then stuck two fingers in his mouth a let out an ear-piercing whistle. There was immediate silence.

  “Much better,” he said as together he and Kathryn faced the sergeant.

  Kathryn prayed her plan would work. An old expression danced in her head: the end justifies the means. She knew the ending she wanted would require some devious means and what she was about to do was about as devious as one could get.

  “I believe that Constable Blake stole the money. He is currently shipping it out of Hopeful on the noon train. The constable is sending it back east where he will take up a lavish residence and live the privileged life of a wealthy gentleman after he has made sure the wrong people pay for his crime and the case is closed.” Even to her, it sounded scandalous.

  Blake scoffed. “That’s a lot of talk, except I don’t see no proof.”

  “Check his pockets, Sergeant. Since it was sent this morning, I’m sure there must be an official document, signed by the station master, showing he shipped one large trunk of sufficient size to hold the entire payroll, to Toronto. His name is probably written on it.”

  The crowd now waited, curious.

  Sergeant Prentiss turned to his constable. “Let’s settle this right now, Cyrus.”

  “Dang it, Sergeant, you ain’t going to listen to that, that...”

  “That young lady, Cyrus? Yes I am. Empty your pockets. That’s an order.”

  Cursing, Constable Blake turned the pockets on his breeches inside out showing they were empty.

  Kathryn watched his expression and couldn’t decide whether it was self-righteousness or arrogance; either way, he was mighty sure of himself. Then as he fumbled in his jacket, this sureness evaporated and his face went a startling shade of puce. Slowly, he withdrew a neatly folded slip of paper.

  He stared down at it, as though it was a rattlesnake nestled in his palm.

  Sergeant Prentiss took the paper and read it. “It’s as Kathryn said. This is a way bill for the shipping of a trunk to Toronto, Ontario, and your name is listed as the shipper, Cyrus. Care to explain?”

  Before the constable could say anything, there was a sudden roar from the direction of the alley as a mountain of a man bellowed and lumbered toward the barracks.

  “Swindler! Liar! Cochon!” The crowd parted as Claude Remy bulled his way through. “You stole dat money from da bank and now you tink you can steal my share from me! It was you who stabbed dat guard, den you kept my knife so we could blame da Highwayman.” He eyed Gabriel Ducharme. “I do not tink dat trick she be working today.” Lunging toward Blake, he made a grab for the terrified constable. “I tear off your head and spit in da hole...”

  Kathryn took an involuntary step backward, although whether it was from fright or to allow Claude clear access to his target, she couldn’t say.

  Sergeant Prentiss suddenly held his pistol. “No one’s doing anything until I have a chance to straighten this mess out. What in the Sam Hill is going on here?”

  Claude froze. “I did dis for you, Belle, ma chère.” He looked at Belle, longing in his eyes. “I thought if Gabriel, he was out of da way, your heart would soften toward me, dat’s why I told Blake dat Gabe was in Medicine Hat. It was to be a secret, but da pig, he blackmailed me into helping him wid da robbery. If I didn’t, he would tell you how he knew where Gabriel was and you would hate me. The money, it give us a new start together, far from dis town. I wouldn’t have to spend my life on da trap line and we could be married.”

  Kathryn watched her aunt recoil. “Claude, you betrayed Gabriel..., your people...” She shook her head sadly, “And me...for nothing. It would never have happened. We would never have married. I am so sorry.”

  She looked toward Gabriel and Kathryn could practically feel the love her aunt shared with this stranger, her Highwayman. It was better than any theatrical production she had ever seen. It was romantic, mysterious, tragic and uplifting all at the same time. At moments like this, Kathryn wished she were a playwright like Shakespeare perhaps, so that she could pen this immortal love story for future generations to read and weep over.

  Her attention was abruptly pulled back to the drama unfolding in front of her when Sergeant Prentiss raised his pistol and pointed it at Blake. “You’re under arrest Cyrus, and so is this friend of yours.” He motioned both men into the detachment. “Gabe, I’ll deal with you later. I need more answers and there’s the matter of some missing goods you forgot to pay for.”

  Kathryn could hear Claude cursing in every language he knew as he was hustled back to the cells.

  In a heartbeat, Gabriel was on the boardwalk and had taken Belle into his arms. Kathryn watched as enthralled as when reading a particularly wonderful passage in one of her books. It was très romantique!

  Belle wrapped her arms around her new husband; then, to the cheers of the crowd, the couple kissed. Everyone began talking and exclaiming over the extraordinary events of the morning.

  JP shook his head. “I must admit, I didn’t see that one coming. I knew Gabe was back and was our Highwayman, but I sure couldn’t say anything. Kokum and Belle would both have killed me. It was the best kept secret in River Falls.”

  “Now they know you can keep a secret.” She said, then added with a smile, “at least if it involves bodily harm to your person, my liege.”

  Reaching up, he smoothed back the feather on his hat with two fingers. “I do have a question. How did you know Claude would confess to the robbery?”

  Kathryn folded her arms. “Because I’m such an astute judge of character.” Then she giggled. “And after dealing with Claude, I knew he would explode with the right encouragement. I had the feeling that he and Constable Dung had an unknown history and that his hatred had been festering for some time.”

  “I could have told you Claude Remy was dangerous. Our trapper has fists like ham hocks and I’ve seen him use them, from a safe distance mind you,” JP added.

  “Plus, despite appearances, Claude is not a stupid man. He would know that with Blake holding his knife, he would always be under the man’s control and was probably expecting his partner to cheat him.” Kathryn grew pensive. “And you know what? I’m sure the good constable would indeed have swindled Claude out of his share. What could a Métis do if a North West Mounted Police constable accused him of a crime? Blake may even have implicated him with the Highwayman. After all, he had that blasted knife – kind of two birds with one stone. It makes sense. I simply sped up the double-cross.”

  “I think you’re right,” JP agreed as he and Kathryn strolled across the street away from the crowd. “You’ve been through a lot since joining our little kingdom – discovering you were Métis, living as a member of the Road Allowance People, unmasking a Canadian Robin Hood, bringing a murderer to justice and – let’s not forget – wearing dungarees!”

  Kathryn beamed into his wonderful face. “As I’ve said before – some rewards are worth the struggle.”

  “And speaking of rewards, tell me, Kathryn the Great, will you go back to your home with the reward money the bank has offered?” he asked tentatively.

  This was one detail that had slipped her mind. Now she felt a little lightheaded as she realized what it meant. She had five thousand dollars! She had the means to go back to Toronto, pay for law school and live comfortably ever after. She could leave River Falls and these Outcasts far behind.
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  “I will go to law school in the east...” She saw his face fill with sadness. “However,” she hurried on, “my home... and my heart, are here now JP. I will always come back to River Falls.”

  Kathryn saw the relief sweep through him and laughed. “Someone must stand up for these people’s rights and who better than a Métis lady lawyer.”

  It had been an eventful time. She remembered when she’d first seen the town and had decided it was more Hopeless than Hopeful, but now, with everyone talking and laughing, Road Allowance People with white, she decided Hopeful was a good name after all. Her aunt had said they must plant the seeds and wait for the harvest. Watching all these happy folks, Kathryn was hoping for a bumper crop.

  It was a start.

  She would always love her stories of knights and damsels in distress but she now knew life was not a fairy tale; it was hard work and took a special kind of courage to stand up and do the right thing. She thought of Mark and his threat to run the Road Allowance People off so he could set up his hog operation. If she were going to help these people, no, her people, she would need that special courage and Kathryn knew she had it. Clara Brett Martin would be very proud of her, and she realized, so would her parents.

  However, she wasn’t about to close the covers on her fairytale books entirely. When she was with her Prairie Puss-in-Boots, she would always share that rare realm of magic that had brought them together. She smiled impishly. “As a reward for finding the true villainous Black Knights of this tale, will you grant me a boon, sire?”

  “For the fairest maiden in all the land, anything.” JP took off his hat and with a grand flourish, bowed deeply, ready to jump into the game once more.

  “Will you please, please tell me what JP stands for?”

  He hesitated, balking. “Oh, fair lady, me thinkest that thou knoweth how I feel about that one secret.” Then his face softened in surrender. Reaching out, he took her hands in his, drawing her to him.