The Valley of Silent Men

by James Oliver Curwood

  CHAPTER XII

  That morning Kent had heard wild songs floating up from the river, andnow he felt like shouting forth his own joy and exultation in song. Hewondered if he could hide the truth from the eyes of others, andespecially from Kedsty if he came to see him. It seemed that someglimmer of the hope blazing within him must surely reveal itself, nomatter how he tried to hold it back. He felt the vital forces of thathope more powerful within him now than in the hour when he had creptfrom the hospital window with freedom in his face. For then he was notsure of himself. He had not tested his physical strength. And in thepresent moment, fanned by his unbounded optimism, the thought came tohim that perhaps it was good luck and not bad that had thrown Mercer inhis way. For with Fingers behind him now, his chances for a cleanget-away were better. He would not be taking a hazardous leap chancedon the immediate smiles of fortune. He would be going deliberately,prepared.

  He blessed the man who had been known as Dirty Fingers, but whom hecould not think of now in the terms of that name. He blessed the day hehad heard that chance story of Fingers, far north. He no longerregarded him as the fat pig of a man he had been for so many years. Forhe looked upon the miracle of a great awakening. He had seen the soulof Fingers lift itself up out of its tabernacle of flesh and grow youngagain; he had seen stagnant blood race with new fire. He had seenemotions roused that had slept for long years. And he felt towardFingers, in the face of that awakening, differently than he had felttoward any other living man. His emotion was one of deep and embracingcomradeship.

  Father Layonne did not come again until afternoon, and then he broughtinformation that thrilled Kent. The missioner had walked down to seeFingers, and Fingers was not on his porch. Neither was the dog. He hadknocked loudly on the door, but there was no answer. Where was Fingers?Kent shook his head, feigning an anxious questioning, but inside himhis heart was leaping. He knew! He told Father Layonne he was afraidall Fingers' knowledge of the law could do him but little good, thatFingers had told him as much, and the little missioner went awayconsiderably depressed. He would talk with Fingers again, he said, andoffer certain suggestions he had in mind. Kent chuckled when he wasgone. How shocked _le Pere_ would be if he, too, could know!

  The next morning Father Layonne came again, and his information waseven more thrilling to Kent. The missioner was displeased with Fingers.Last night, noticing a light in his shack, he had walked down to seehim. And he had found three men closely drawn up about a table withDirty Fingers. One of them was Ponte, the half-breed; another was Kinoothe outcast Dog Rib from over on Sand Creek; the third was Mooie, theold Indian trailer. Kent wanted to jump up and shout, for those threewere the three greatest trailers in all that part of the Northland.Fingers had lost no time, and he wanted to voice his approbation like asmall boy on the Fourth of July.

  But his face, seen by Father Layonne, betrayed none of the excitementthat was in his blood. Fingers had told him he was going into a timberdeal with these men, a long-distance deal where there would be muchtraveling, and that he could not interrupt himself just then to talkabout Kent. Would Father Layonne come again in the morning? And he hadgone again that morning, and Fingers' place was locked up!

  All the rest of the day Kent waited eagerly for Fingers. For the firsttime Kedsty came to see him, and as a matter of courtesy said he hopedFingers might be of assistance to him. He did not mention Mercer andremained no longer than a couple of minutes, standing outside the cell.In the afternoon Doctor Cardigan came and shook hands warmly with Kent.He had found a tough job waiting for him, he said. Mercer was all cutup, in a literal as well as a mental way. He had five teeth missing,and he had to have seventeen stitches taken in his face. It wasCardigan's opinion that some one had given him a considerablebeating--and he grinned at Kent. Then he added in a whisper,

  "My God, Kent, how I wish you had made it!"

  It was four o'clock when Fingers came. Even less than yesterday did helook like the old Fingers. He was not wheezing. He seemed to have lostflesh. His face was alive. That was what struck Kent--the new life init. There was color in his eyes. And Togs, the dog, was not with him.He smiled when he shook hands with Kent, and nodded, and chuckled. AndKent, after that, gripped him by the shoulders and shook him in hissilent joy.

  "I was up all last night," said Fingers in a low voice. "I don't daremove much in the day, or people will wonder. But, God bless my soul!--Idid move last night, Kent. I must have walked ten miles, more or less.And things are coming--coming!"

  "And Ponte, Kinoo, Mooie--?"

  "Are working like devils," whispered Fingers. "It's the only way, Kent.I've gone through all my law, and there's nothing in man-made law thatcan save you. I've read your confession, and I don't think you couldeven get off with the penitentiary. A noose is already tied around yourneck. I think you'd hang. We've simply got to get you out some otherway. I've had a talk with Kedsty. He has made arrangements to have yousent to Edmonton two weeks from tomorrow. We'll need all that time, butit's enough."

  For three days thereafter Fingers came to Kent's cell each afternoon,and each time was looking better. Something was swiftly puttinghardness into his flesh and form into his body. The second day he toldKent that he had found the way at last, and that when the hour came,escape would be easy, but he thought it best not to let Kent in on thelittle secret just yet. He must be patient and have faith. That was thechief thing, to have faith at all times, no matter what happened.Several times he emphasized that "no matter what happens." The thirdday he puzzled Kent. He was restless, a bit nervous. He still thoughtit best not to tell Kent what his scheme was, until to-morrow. He wasin the cell not more than five or ten minutes, and there was an unusualpressure in the grip of his hand when he bade Kent good-by. SomehowKent did not feel so well when he had gone. He waited impatiently forthe next day. It came, and hour after hour he listened for Fingers'heavy tread in the hall. The morning passed. The afternoon lengthened.Night came, and Fingers had not come. Kent did not sleep much betweenthe hour when he went to bed and morning. It was eleven o'clock whenthe missioner made his call. Before he left, Kent gave him a brief notefor Fingers. He had just finished his dinner, and Carter had taken thedishes away, when Father Layonne returned. A look at his face, and Kentknew that he bore unpleasant tidings.

  "Fingers is an--an apostate," he said, his lips twitching as if to keepback a denunciation still more emphatic. "He was sitting on his porchagain this morning, half asleep, and says that after a great deal ofthought he has come to the definite opinion that he can do nothing foryou. He read your note and burned it with a match. He asked me to tellyou that the scheme he had in mind was too risky--for him. He says hewon't come up again. And--"

  The missioner was rubbing his brown, knotted hands together raspingly.

  "Go on," said Kent a little thickly.

  "He has also sent Inspector Kedsty the same word," finished FatherLayonne. "His word to Kedsty is that he can see no fighting chance foryou, and that it is useless effort on his part to put up a defense foryou. Jimmy!" His hand touched Kent's arm gently.

  Kent's face was white. He faced the window, and for a space he did notsee. Then with pencil and paper he wrote again to Fingers.

  It was late in the afternoon before Father Layonne returned with ananswer. Again it was verbal. Fingers had read his note and had burnedit with a match. He was particular that the last scrap of it was turnedinto ash, the missioner said. And he had nothing to say to Kent that hehad not previously said. He simply could not go on with their plans.And he requested Kent not to write to him again. He was sorry, but thatwas his definite stand in the matter.

  Even then Kent could not bring himself to believe. All the rest of theday he tried to put himself in Fingers' brain, but his old trick oflosing his personality in that of another failed him this time. Hecould find no reason for the sudden change in Fingers, unless it waswhat Fingers had frankly confessed to Father Layonne--fear. Theinfluence of mind, in this instance, had failed in its assault upon amass of matter. Fingers'
nerve had gone back on him.

  The fifth day Kent rose from his cot with hope still not quite dead inhis heart. But that day passed and the sixth, and the missioner broughtword that Fingers was the old Dirty Fingers again, sitting from morningtill night on his porch.

  On the seventh day came the final crash to Kent's hopes. Kedsty'sprogram had changed. He, Kent, was to start for Edmonton the followingmorning under charge of Pelly and a special constable!

  After this Kent felt a strange change come over him. Years seemed tomultiply themselves in his body. His mind, beaten back, no longercontinued in its old channels of thought. The thing pressed upon himnow as fatalistic. Fingers had failed him. Fortune had failed him.Everything had failed, and for the first time in the weeks of hisstruggle against death and a thing worse than death, he cursed himself.There was a limit to optimism and a limit to hope. His limit wasreached.

  In the afternoon of this seventh day came a depressing gloom. It wasfilled with a drizzling rain. Hour after hour this drizzle kept up,thickening as the night came. He ate his supper by the light of a celllamp. By eight o'clock it was black outside. In that blackness therewas an occasional flash of lightning and rumble of thunder. On the roofof the barracks the rain beat steadily and monotonously.

  His watch was in his hand--it was a quarter after nine o'clock, when heheard the door at the far exit of the hall open and close. He had heardit a dozen times since supper and paid no attention to it, but thistime it was followed by a voice at the detachment office that hit himlike an electrical shock. Then, a moment later, came low laughter. Itwas a woman who laughed.

  He stood up. He heard the detachment office door close, and silencefollowed. The watch in his hand seemed ticking off the seconds withfrantic noise. He shoved it into his pocket and stood staring out intothe prison alcove. A few minutes later the office door opened again.This time it was not closed. He heard distinctly a few light,hesitating footsteps, and his heart seemed to stop its beating. Theycame to the head of the lighted alcove, and for perhaps the space of adozen seconds there was silence again. Then they advanced.

  Another moment, and Kent was staring through the bars into the gloriouseyes of Marette Radisson!