IMVS -

THE
SPOILERS
REX BEACH












[See p. 32
“What I WANT—I TAKE,” AND THEN, TURNING, HE KISSED
HER SOFTLY, FIERCELY, FULL UPON THE LIPS


The Spoilers
By REX E. BEACH
With Four Illustrations
By CLARENCE F. UNDERWOOD
A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK


KD 554
PAS VARD
COLLEGE
Copyright, 1905, by Rex E. BBACH.
All rights reserved.
Published April, 1906.


THIS BOOK
IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO
MY MOTHER





CONTENTS
CHAP
PAGE
.
•
.
II.
.
·
.
.
.
.
.'.
.
·
VII.
.
·
.
XI.
Wut
I 20
.
THE ENCOUNTER . . . . . . . . . .
THE STOWAWAY . . . . . . . . .
13
III.
In Which GlenisteR ERRS. ..
IV. THE KILLING . . . . . . . ..
V.
WHEREIN A Man APPEARS. . . ..
VI. AND A MINE IS JUMPED . . . . .
THE “BRONCO Kid's" EAVESDROPPING ...
VIII. DextRY MAKES A CALL . . . . . . ..
IX. SLUICE ROBBERS . . . . . · · · · · 94
x. THE WIT OF AN ADVENTURESS . . . . . . 107
WHEREIN A WRIT AND A Riot Fail. ...
XII. COUNTERPLOTs. . . . . . . . . . 132
XIII. In Which A Man is PosSESSED OF A Devil . 149
XIV. A MIDNIGHT MESSENGER . . . . . . . . 168
XV. VIGILANTES. . . . . . . . . . . . . 183
XVI. IN WHICH THE TRUTH BEGINS TO BARE ITSELF 201
XVII. THE DRIP OF WATER IN THE DARK . ... 218
XVIII. WHEREIN A TRAP IS BAITED. . . . . . . 236
XIX. DYNAMITE . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
XX. In Which THREE Go to THE SIGN OF THE SLED
AND BUT Two RETURN. . . . . . . . 268
XXI. THE HAMMER-LOCK . . . . . . . . . . 285
XXII. THE PROMISE OF DREAMS. . . . . . . . 300
.





THE SPOILERS
on nature when your æsthetics ain't honed up to the
beauties of good tobacco."
The other laughed, inflating his deep chest. In the
gloom he stretched his muscles restlessly, as though
an excess of vigor filled him.
They were lounging upon the dock, while before
them lay the Santa Maria ready for her midnight
sailing. Behind slept Unalaska, quaint, antique, and
Russian, rusting amid the fogs of Bering Sea. Where,
a week before, mild-eyed natives had dried their cod
among the old bronze cannon, now a frenzied horde of
gold-seekers paused in their rush to the new El Dorado.
They had come like a locust cloud, thousands strong,
settling on the edge of the Smoky Sea, waiting the
going of the ice that barred them from their Golden
Fleece—from Nome the new, where men found fort-
une in a night.
The mossy hills back of the village were ridged with
graves of those who had died on the out-trip the fall
before, when a plague had gripped the land-but
what of that? Gold glittered in the sands, so said
the survivors; therefore men came in armies. Glen-
ister and Dextry had left Nome the autumn previous,
the young man raving with fever. Now they returned
to their own land.
"This air whets every animal instinct in me,"
Glenister broke out again. “Away from the cities I
turn savage. I feel the old primitive passions—the
fret for fighting."
“Mebbe you'll have a chance."
“How so?”
"Well, it's this way. I met Mexico Mullins this
mornin'. You mind old Mexico, don't you? The


THE ENCOUNTER
feller that relocated Discovery Claim on Anvil Creek
last summer ?".
"You don't mean that 'tin-horn' the boys were go-
ing to lynch for claim-jumping ?”
“Identical! Remember me tellin' you about a
good turn I done him once down Guadalupe way?".
“Greaser shooting-scrape, wasn't it?”.
“Yep! Well, I noticed first off that he's gettin'
fat; high-livin' fat, too, all in one spot, like he was
playin' both ends ag'in the centre. Also he wore
di’mon's fit to handle with ice-tongs.
"Says I, lookin' at his side elevation, 'What's ac-
cented your middle syllable so strong, Mexico ?'
"Prosperity, politics, an' the Waldorf-Astorier,'
says he. It seems Mex hadn't forgot old days. He
claws me into a corner an' says, 'Bill, I'ın goin' to
pay you back for that Moralez deal.'
“It ain't comin' to me,' says I. 'That's a bygone!'
“Listen here,' says he, an', seein' he was in earnest,
I let him run on.
“How much do you value that claim o' yourn at?'
“Hard tellin',' says I. 'If she holds out like she
run last fall, there'd ought to be a million clear in her.'
“How much 'll you clean up this summer?'
""Bout four hundred thousand, with luck.'
“'Bill,' says he, 'there's hell a-poppin' an' you've
got to watch that ground like you'd watch a rattle-
snake. Don't never leave 'em get a grip on it or
you're down an' out.'
“He was so plumb in earnest it scared me up, 'cause
Mexico ain't a gabby man.
“What do you mean?' says I.
"I can't tell you nothin' more. I'm puttin' a
How much 'li y ought to be a en holds out like at?"


THE SPOILERS
.
string on my own neck, sayin' this much. You're a
square man, Bill, an' I'm a gambler, but you saved
my life oncet, an' I wouldn't steer you wrong. For
God's sake, don't let 'em jump your ground, that's all.'
“Let who jump it? Congress has give us judges
an' courts an' marshals—'I begins.
"That's just it. How you goin' to buck that
hand? Them's the best cards in the deck. There's
a man comin' by the name of McNamara. Watch
him clost. I can't tell you no more. But don't never
let 'em get a grip on your ground.' That's all he'd
say."
"Bah! He's crazy! I wish somebody would try to
jump the Midas; we'd enjoy the exercise."
The siren of the Santa Maria interrupted, its hoarse
warning throbbing up the mountain.
“We'll have to get aboard,” said Dextry.
“Sh-h! What's that?" the other whispered.
At first the only sound they heard was a stir from
the deck of the steamer. Then from the water below
them came the rattle of rowlocks and a voice cautiously
muffled.
“Stop! Stop there!"
A skiff burst from the darkness, grounding on the
beach beneath. A figure scrambled out and up the
ladder leading to the wharf. Immediately a second
boat, plainly in pursuit of the first one, struck on the
beach behind it.
As the escaping figure mounted to their level the
watchers perceived with amazement that it was a
young woman. Breath sobbed from her lungs, and,
stumbling, she would have fallen but for Glenister,
who ran forward and helped her to her feet.


THE ENCOUNTER
"Don't let them get me," she panted.
He turned to his partner in puzzled inquiry, but
found that the old man had crossed to the head of
the landing ladder up which the pursuers were climb-
ing.
“Just a minute-you there! Back up or I'll kick
your face in.” Dextry's voice was sharp and unex-
pected, and in the darkness he loomed tall and men-
acing to those below.
“Get out of the way. That woman's a runaway,"
came from the one highest on the ladder.
"So I jedge."
“She broke qu–"
"Shut up!" broke in another. “Do you want to
advertise it? Get out of the way, there, ye damn fool!
Climb up, Thorsen." He spoke like a bucko mate,
and his words stirred the bile of Dextry.
Thorsen grasped the dock floor, trying to climb up,
but the old miner stamped on his fingers and the
sailor loosened his hold with a yell, carrying the under
men with him to the beach in his fall.
"This way! Follow me!" shouted the mate, mak-
ing up the bank for the shore end of the wharf.
“You'd better pull your freight, miss,” Dextry re-
marked; "they'll be here in a minute.”
"Yes, yes! Let us go! I must get aboard the
Santa Maria. She's leaving now. Come, come!"
Glenister laughed, as though there were a humorous
touch in her remark, but did not stir.
"I'm gettin' awful old an' stiff to run," said Dextry,
removing his mackinaw, "but I allow I ain't too old
for a little diversion in the way of a rough-house when
it comes nosin' around.” He moved lightly, though


THE SPOILERS
the girl could see in the half-darkness that his hair
was silvery.
“What do you mean?" she questioned, sharply.
"You hurry along, miss; we'll toy with 'em till
you're aboard.” They stepped across to the dock-
house, backing against it. The girl followed.
Again came the warning blast from the steamer,
and the voice of an officer:
“Clear away that stern line!”
“Oh, we'll be left!" she breathed, and somehow it
struck Glenister that she feared this more than the
men whose approaching feet he heard.
“You can make it all right,” he urged her, roughly.
“You'll get hurt if you stay here. Run along and
don't mind us. We've been thirty days on ship-
board, and were praying for something to happen.”
His voice was boyishly glad, as if he exulted in the
fray that was to come; and no sooner had he spoken
than the sailors came out of the darkness upon them.
During the space of a few heart-beats there was
only a tangle of whirling forms with the sound of fist
on flesh, then the blot split up and forms plunged out-
ward, falling heavily. Again the sailors rushed, at-
tempting to clinch. They massed upon Dextry only
to grasp empty air, for he shifted with remarkable
agility, striking bitterly, as an old wolf snaps. It was
baffling work, however, for in the darkness his blows
fell short or overreached.
Glenister, on the other hand, stood carelessly, beat-
ing the men off as they came to him. He laughed
gloatingly, deep in his throat, as though the encounter
were merely some rough sport. The girl shuddered,
for the desperate silence of the attacking men terrified


THE ENCOUNTER
her more than a din, and yet she stayed, crouched
against the wall.
Dextry swung at a dim target, and, missing it, was
whirled off his balance. Instantly his antagonist
grappled with him, and they fell to the floor, while a
third man shuffled about them. The girl throttled a
scream.
"I'm goin' to kick 'im, Bill,” the man panted
hoarsely. “Le' me fix 'im." He swung his heavy
shoe, and Bill cursed with stirring eloquence.
"Ow! You're kickin' me! I've got 'im, safe
Bill's all tackle the big time! I've
Bill's ally then started towards the others, his body
bent, his arms flexed yet hanging loosely. He crouch-
ed beside the girl, ignoring her, while she heard the
breath wheezing from his lungs; then silently he
leaped. Glenister had hurled a man from him, then
stepped back to avoid the others, when he was seized
from behind and felt the man's arms wrapped about
his neck, the sailor's legs locked about his thighs.
Now came the girl's first knowledge of real fighting.
The two spun back and forth so closely entwined as
to be indistinguishable, the others holding off. For
what seemed many minutes they struggled, the young
man striving to reach his adversary, till they crashed
against the wall near her and she heard her champion's
breath coughing in his throat at the tightening grip of
the sailor. Fright held her paralyzed, for she had
never seen men thus. A moment and Glenister
would be down beneath their stamping feet — they
would kick his life out with their heavy shoes. At
thought of it, the necessity of action smote her like a
blow in the face. Her terror fell away, her shaking


THE SPOILERS
muscles stiffened, and before realizing what she did
she had acted.
The seaman's back was to her. She reached out
and gripped him by the hair, while her fingers, tense
as talons, sought his eyes. Then the first loud sound
of the battle arose. The man yelled in sudden terror;
and the others as suddenly fell back. The next in-
stant she felt a hand upon her shoulder and heard
Dextry's voice.
“Are ye hurt? No? Come on, then, or we'll get
left.” He spoke quietly, though his breath was loud,
and, glancing down, she saw the huddled form of the
sailor whom he had fought.
"That's all right-he ain't hurt. It's a Jap trick I
learned. Hurry up!"
They ran swiftly down the wharf, followed by
Glenister and by the groans of the sailors in whom
the lust for combat had been quenched. As they
scrambled up the Santa Maria's gang-plank, a strip of
water widened between the boat and the pier.
“Close shave, that,” panted Glenister, feeling his
throat gingerly, "but I wouldn't have missed it for a
spotted pup."
“I've been through b’iler explosions and snow-
slides, not to mention a triflin' jail-delivery, but fer
real sprightly diversions I don't recall nothin' more
pleasin' than this.” Dextry's enthusiasm was boylike.
“What kind of men are you?” the girl laughed
nervously, but got no answer.
They led her to their deck cabin, where they switch-
ed on the electric light, blinking at each other and at
their unknown guest.
They saw a graceful and altogether attractive figure


THE ENCOUNTER
in a trim, short skirt and long, tan boots. But what
Glenister first saw was her eyes; large and gray, almost
brown under the electric light. They were active eyes,
he thought, and they flashed swift, comprehensive
glances at the two men. Her hair had fallen loose
and crinkled to her waist, all agleam. Otherwise she
showed no sign of her recent ordeal.
Glenister had been prepared for the type of beauty
that follows the frontier; beauty that may stun, but
that has the polish and chill of a new-ground bowie.
Instead, this girl with the calm, reposeful face struck a
note almost painfully different from her surroundings,
suggesting countless pleasant things that had been
strange to him for the past few years.
Pure admiration alone was patent in the older man's
gaze.
"I make oration," said he, "that you're the gamest
little chap I ever fought over, Mexikin, Injun, or white.
What's the trouble?”
“I suppose you think I've done something dreadful,
don't you?” she said. “But I haven't. I had to get
away from the Ohio to-night for-certain reasons. I'll
tell you all about it to-morrow. I haven't stolen any-
thing, nor poisoned the crew-really I haven't.” She
smiled at them, and Glenister found it impossible not
to smile with her, though dismayed by her feeble ex-
planation.
“Well, I'll wake up the steward and find a place for
you to go," he said at length. “You'll have to double
up with some of the women, though; it's awfully
crowded aboard.”
She laid a detaining hand on his arm. He thought
he felt her tremble.


THE SPOILERS
"No, no! I don't want you to do that. They
mustn't see me to-night. I know I'm acting strangely
and all that, but it's happened so quickly I haven't
found myself yet. I'll tell you to-morrow, though,
really. Don't let any one see me or it will spoil every-
thing. Wait till to-morrow, please.”
She was very white, and spoke with eager intensity.
“Help you? Why, sure Mike!” assured the impul-
sive Dextry, “an', see here, Miss—you take your time
on explanations. We don't care a cuss what you done.
Morals ain't our long suit, 'cause there's never a law of
God or man runs north of Fifty-three,' as the poetry
man remarked, an' he couldn't have spoke truer if he'd
knowed what he was sayin'. Everybody is privileged
to'look out' his own game up here. A square deal an'
no questions asked.”
She looked somewhat doubtful at this till she caught
the heat of Glenister's gaze. Some boldness of his look
brought home to her the actual situation, and a stain
rose in her cheek. She noted him more carefully;
noted his heavy shoulders and ease of bearing, an ease
and looseness begotten of perfect muscular control.
Strength was equally suggested in his face, she thought,
for he carried a marked young countenance, with
thrusting chin, aggressive thatching brows, and mobile
mouth that whispered all the changes from strength to
abandon. Prominent was a look of reckless energy.
She considered him handsome in a heavy, virile, per-
haps too purely physical fashion.
“You want to stowaway?” he asked.
“I've had a right smart experience in that line,"
said Dextry, “but I never done it by proxy. What's
your plan?"
mouthdos. Prodhim hatal fashione aske
I


THE ENCOUNTER
"She will stay here to-night,” said Glenister quickly.
“You and I will go below. Nobody will see her."
"I can't let you do that,” she objected. “Isn't there
some place where I can hide?" But they reassured
her and left.
When they had gone, she crouched trembling upon
her seat for a long time, gazing fixedly before her.
“I'm afraid!” she whispered; “I'm afraid. What am
I getting into ? Why do men look so at me? I'm
frightened. Oh, I'm sorry I undertook it.” At last
she rose wearily. The close cabin oppressed her; she
felt the need of fresh air. So, turning out the lights,
she stepped forth into the night. Figures loomed near
the rail and she slipped astern, screening herself behind
a life-boat, where the cool breeze fanned her face.
The forms she had seen approached, speaking ear-
nestly. Instead of passing, they stopped abreast of
her hiding-place; then, as they began to talk, she saw
that her retreat was cut off and that she must not stir.
“What brings her here?" Glenister was echoing a
question of Dextry's. “Bah! What brings them all?
What brought the Duchess,' and Cherry Malotte, and
all the rest?"
“No, no," said the old man. “She ain't that kind
- she's too fine, too delicate-too pretty."
"That's just it - too pretty! Too pretty to be
alone or anything except what she is.”
Dextry growled sourly. “This country has plumb
ruined you, boy. You think they're all alike-an' I
don't know but they are all but this girl. Seems like
she's different, somehow_but I can't tell."
Glenister spoke musingly:
“I had an ancestor who buccaneered among the
II


THE SPOILERS
Indies, a long time ago—so I'm told. Sometimes I
think I have his disposition. He comes and whispers
things to me in the night. Oh, he was a devil, and I've
got his blood in me—untamed and hot-I can hear him
saying something now-something about the spoils of
war. Ha, ha! Maybe he's right. I fought for her
to-night-Dex—the way he used to fight for his sweet-
hearts along the Mexicos. She's too beautiful to be
good—and there's never a law of God or man runs
north of Fifty-three.""
They moved on, his vibrant, cynical laughter stab-
bing the girl till she leaned against the yawl for sup-
port.
She held herself together while the blood beat thickly
in her ears, then fled to the cabin, hurling herself into
her berth, where she writhed silently, beating the pillow
with hands into which her nails had bitten, staring the
while into the darkness with dry and aching eyes.


CHAPTER II
THE STOW AWAY
HE awoke to the throb of the engines, and, gazing
cautiously through her stateroom window, saw a
glassy, level sea, with the sun brightly agleam on it.
So this was Bering ? She had clothed it always with
the mystery of her school-days, thinking of it as a weep-
ing, fog-bound stretch of gray waters. Instead, she
saw a flat, sunlit main, with occasional sea-parrots flap-
ping their fat bodies out of the ship's course. A glis-
tening head popped up from the waters abreast, and
she heard the cry of “seal!”.
Dressing, the girl noted minutely the personal arti-
cles scattered about the cabin, striving to derive there-
from some fresh hint of the characteristics of the
owners. First, there was an elaborate, copper-backed
toilet - set, all richly ornamented and leather-bound.
The metal was magnificently hand - worked and bore
Glenister's initial. It spoke of elegant extravagance,
and seemed oddly out of place in an Arctic miner's
equipment, as did also a small set of De Maupassant.
Next, she picked up Kipling's Seven Seas, marked
liberally, and felt that she had struck a scent. The
roughness and brutality of the poems had always
chilled her, though she had felt vaguely their splendid
pulse and swing. This was the girl's first venture from
13


THE SPOILERS
a sheltered life. She had not rubbed elbows with the
world enough to find that Truth may be rough, un-
shaven, and garbed in homespun. The book confirmed
her analysis of the junior partner.
Pendent from a hook was a worn and blackened
holster from which peeped the butt of a large Colt's
revolver, showing evidence of many years' service. It
spoke mutely of the white-haired Dextry, who, before
her inspection was over, knocked at the door, and,
when she admitted him, addressed her cautiously:
"The boy's down forrad, teasin' grub out of a flunky.
He'll be up in a minute. How'd ye sleep?".
"Very well, thank you,” she lied, “but I've been
thinking that I ought to explain myself to you."
"Now, see here," the old man interjected, “there
ain't no "explanations needed till you feel like givin'
them up. You was in trouble—that's unfortunate;
we help you—that's natural; no questions asked
that's Alaska.”
“Yes—but I know you must think_".
“What bothers me,” the other continued irrel-
evantly, “is how in blazes we're goin' to keep you hid.
The steward's got to make up this room, and some-
body's bound to see us packin' grub in.”
"I don't care who knows if they won't send me back.
They wouldn't do that, would they?" She hung anx-
iously on his words.
"Send you back? Why, don't you savvy that this
boat is bound for Nome? There ain't no turnin' back
on gold stampedes, and this is the wildest rush the
world ever saw. The captain wouldn't turn back-he
couldn't-his cargo's too precious and the company
pays five thousand a day for this ship. No, we ain't
14


THE STOWAWAY
puttin' back to unload no stowaways at five thousand
per. Besides, we passengers wouldn't let him-time's
too precious.” They were interrupted by the rattle of
dishes outside, and Dextry was about to open the door
when his hand wavered uncertainly above the knob,
for he heard the hearty greeting of the ship's captain.
“Well, well, Glenister, where's all the breakfast
going?”
“Oo!" whispered the old man — "that's Cap' Ste-
phens.”
"Dextry isn't feeling quite up to form this morn-
ing,” replied Glenister easily.
“Don't wonder! Why weren't you aboard sooner
last night? I saw you—'most got left, eh? Served
you right if you had.” Then his voice dropped to the
confidential: “I'd advise you to cut out those women.
Don't misunderstand me, boy, but they're a bad lot
on this boat. I saw you come aboard. Take my word
for it—they're a bad lot. Cut 'em out. Guess I'll step
inside and see what's up with Dextry."
The girl shrank into her corner, gazing apprehen-
sively at the other listener.
“Well-er-he isn't up yet,” they heard Glenister
stammer; "better come around later."
“Nonsense; it's time he was dressed.” The master's
voice was gruffly good - natured. “Hello, Dextry!
Hey! Open up for inspection.” He rattled the door.
There was nothing to be done. The old miner
darted an inquiring glance at his companion, then, at
her nod, slipped the bolt, and the captain's blue bulk
filled the room.
His grizzled, close-bearded face was genially wrinkled
till he spied the erect. gray figure in the corner, when
15


THE SPOILERS
his cap came off involuntarily. There his courtesy
ended, however, and the smile died coldly from his face.
His eyes narrowed, and the good-fellowship fell away,
leaving him the stiff and formal officer.
"Ah,” he said, “not feeling well, eh? I thought I had
met all of our lady passengers. Introduce me, Dextry."
Dextry squirmed under his cynicism.
“Well-1-ah-didn't catch the name myself.”
“What?”
"Oh, there ain't much to say. This is the lady we
brought aboard last night-that's all."
“Who gave you permission ?"
"Nobody. There wasn't time."
"There wasn't time, eh? Which one of you con-
ceived the novel scheme of stowing away ladies in your
cabin? Whose is she? Quick! Answer me." Indig-
nation was vibrant in his voice.
"Oh!" the girl cried—her eyes widening darkly.
She stood slim and pale and slightly. trembling.
His words had cut her bitterly, though through it
all he had scrupulously avoided addressing her.
The captain turned to Glenister, who had entered
and closed the door.
“Is this your work? Is she yours?"
"No," he answered quietly, while Dextry chimed in:
“Better hear details, captain, before you make
breaks like that. We helped the lady side-step some
sailors last night and we most got left doing it. It was
up to her to make a quick get-away, so we helped her
aboard."
"A poor story! What was she running away from?"
He still addressed the men, ignoring her completely,
till, with hoarse voice, she broke in:
She answe details helped
16


THE STOWAWAY
“You mustn't talk about me that way. I can an-
swer your questions. It's true-I ran away. I had
to. The sailors came after me and fought with these
men. I had to get away quickly, and your friends
helped me on here from gentlemanly kindness, because
they saw me unprotected. They are still protecting
me. I can't explain how important it is for me to
reach Nome on the first boat, because it isn't my se-
cret. It was important enough to make me leave my
uncle at Seattle at an hour's notice when we found
there was no one else who could go. That's all I can
say. I took my maid with me, but the sailors caught
her just as she was following me down the ship's
ladder. She had my bag of clothes when they seized
her. I cast off the rope and rowed ashore as fast
as I could, but they lowered another boat and fol-
lowed me."
The captain eyed her sharply, and his grim lines
softened a bit, for she was clean-cut and womanly,
and utterly out of place. He took her in, shrewdly,
detail by detail, then spoke directly to her:
“My dear young lady-the other ships will get there
just as quickly as ours, maybe more quickly. To-
morrow we strike the ice-pack and then it is all a mat-
ter of luck."
“Yes, but the ship I left won't get there."
At this the commander started, and, darting a great,
thick-fingered hand at her, spoke savagely:
“What's that? What ship? Which one did you
come from? Answer me."
"The Ohio," she replied, with the effect of a hand-
grenade. The master glared at her.
"The Ohio! Good God! You dare to stand there
17
-
-
-
-


THE SPOILERS
and tell me that?" He turned and poured his rage
upon the others.
“She says the Ohio, d'ye hear? You've ruined me!
I'll put you in ironsmall of you. The Ohio!"
“What d'ye mean? What's up?"
“What's up? There's small-pox aboard the Ohio!
This girl has broken quarantine. The health inspec-
tors bottled up the boat at six o'clock last night!
That's why I pulled out of Unalaska ahead of time, to
avoid any possible delay. Now we'll all be held up
when we get to Nome. Great Heavens! do you realize
what this means—bringing this hussy aboard ?".
boro His eyes burned and his voice shook, while the two
partners stared at each other in dismay. Too well they
knew the result of a small-pox panic aboard this crowd-
ed troop-ship. Not only was every available cabin
bulging with passengers, but the lower decks were
jammed with both humanity and live stock all in the
most unsanitary conditions. The craft, built for three
hundred passengers, was carrying triple her capacity;
men and women were stowed away like cattle. Order
and a half-tolerable condition were maintained only by
the efforts of the passengers themselves, who held to
the thought that imprisonment and inconvenience
would last but a few days longer. They had been
aboard three weeks and every heart was aflame with
the desire to reach Nome-to reach it ahead of the
pressing horde behind.
What would be the temper of this gold-frenzied
army if thrown into quarantine within sight of their
goal? The impatient hundreds would have to lie
packed in their floating prison, submitting to the foul
disease. Long they must lie thus, till a month should
18



“ SHE STEPPED BACK AGAINST THE WALL, HER WONDROUS,
DEEP, GRAY EYES WIDE AND TROUBLED"





THE STOWAWAY
there fear of the their mine absence, where tit
have passed after the disappearance of the last symp-
tom. If the disease recurred sporadically, that might
mean endless weeks of maddening idleness. It might
even be impossible to impose the necessary restraint;
there would be violence, perhaps mutiny.
The fear of the sickness was nothing to Dextry and
Glenister, but of their mine they thought with terror.
What would happen in their absence, where conditions
were as unsettled as in this new land; where titles were
held only by physical possession of the premises ?
During the long winter of their absence, ice had held
their treasure inviolate, but with the warming summer
the jewel they had fought for so wearily would lie naked
and exposed to the first comer. The Midas lay in the
valley of the richest creek, where men had schemed and
fought and slain for the right to inches. It was the
fruit of cheerless, barren years of toil, and if they could
not guard it—they knew the result.
The girl interrupted their distressing reflections.
“Don't blame these men, sir,” she begged the cap-
tain. “I am the only one at fault. Oh! I had to get
away. I have papers here that must be delivered
quickly.” She laid a hand upon her bosom. “They
couldn't be trusted to the unsettled mail service. It's
almost life and death. And I assure you there is no
need of putting me in quarantine. I haven't the small-
pox. I wasn't even exposed to it.”
"There's nothing else to do,” said Stephens. “I'll
isolate you in the deck smoking-cabin. God knows
what these madmen on board will do when they hear
about it, though. They're apt to tear you to shreds.
They're crazy!”
Glenister had been thinking rapidly.
19


THE SPOILERS
"If you do that, you'll have mutiny in an hour.
This isn't the crowd to stand that sort of thing."
"Bah! Let 'em try it. I'll put 'em down." The
officer's square jaws clicked.
“Maybe so; but what then? We reach Nome and
the Health Inspector hears of small-pox suspects, then
we're all quarantined for thirty days; eight hundred of
us. We'll lie at Egg Island all summer while your com-
pany pays five thousand a day for this ship. That's
not all. The firm is liable in damages for your careless-
ness in letting disease aboard."
"My carelessness !" The old man ground his teeth.
“Yes; that's what it amounts to. You'll ruin your
owners, all right. You'll tie up your ship and lose your
job, that's a cinch!"
Captain Stephens wiped the moisture from his brow
angrily.
“My carelessness! Curse you-you say it well.
Don't you realize that I am criminally liable if I don't
take every precaution?" He paused for a moment,
considering. “I'll hand her over to the ship's doctor."
"See here, now," Glenister urged. “We'll be in
Nome in a week-before the young lady would have
time to show symptoms of the disease, even if she were
going to have it-and a thousand to one she hasn't
been exposed, and will never show a trace of it. No-
body knows she's aboard but we three. Nobody will
see her get off. She'll stay in this cabin, which will be
just as effectual as though you isolated her in any
other part of the boat. It will avoid a panic-you'll
save your ship and your company-no one will be the
wiser-then if the girl comes down with small-pox after
she gets ashore, she can go to the pest-house and not
20


THE STOWAWAY
jeopardize the health of all the people aboard this ship.
You go up forrad to your bridge, sir, and forget that
you stepped in to see old Bill Dextry this morning.
We'll take care of this matter all right. It means as
much to us as it does to you. We've got to be on Anvil
Creek before the ground thaws or we'll lose the Midas.
If you make a fuss, you'll ruin us all."
For some moments they watched him breathlessly
as he frowned in indecision, then-
“You'll have to look out for the steward,” he said,
and the girl sank to a stool while two great tears rolled
down her cheeks. The captain's eyes softened and his
voice was gentle as he laid his hand on her head.
“Don't feel hurt over what I said, miss. You see,
appearances don't tell much, hereabouts-most of the
pretty ones are no good. They've fooled me many a
time, and I made a mistake. These men will help you
through; I can't. Then when you get to Nome, make
your sweetheart marry you the day you land. You
are too far north to be alone."
He stepped out into the passage and closed the door
carefully.


CHAPTER III
IN WHICH GLENISTER ERRS
ELL, bein' as me an' Glenister is gougin' into
VV the bowels of Anvil Creek all last summer, we
don't really get the fresh - grub habit fastened on us
none. You see, the gamblers down-town cop out the
few aigs an' green vegetables that stray off the ships,
so they never get out as far as the Creek none; except,
maybe, in the shape of anecdotes.
“We don't get intimate with no nutriments except
hog-boosum an' brown beans, of which luxuries we have
unstinted measure, an' bein' as this is our third year
in the country we hanker for bony fido grub, somethin'
scan'lous. Yes, ma'am-three years without a taste
of fresh fruit nor meat nor nuthin'-except pork an'
beans. Why, I've et bacon till my immortal soul has
growed a rind.
“When it comes time to close down the claim, the
boy is sick with the fever an' the only ship in port is a
Point Barrow whaler, bound for Seattle. After I book
our passage, I find they have nothin' aboard to eat
except canned salmon, it bein' the end of a two years'
cruise, so when I land in the States after seventeen
days of a fish diet, I am what you might call sated with
canned grub, and have added salmon to the list of
things concernin' which I am goin' to economize.
• 22


THE SPOILERS
other ships toiling through the barrier. The spring
fleet was knocking at the door of the Golden North.
Chafing at her imprisonment, the girl had asked the
old man to take her out on deck under the shelter of
darkness; then she had led him to speak of his own
past experiences, and of Glenister's; which he had done
freely. She was frankly curious about them, and she
wondered at their apparent lack of interest in her own
identity and her secret mission. She even construed
their silence as indifference, not realizing that these
Northmen were offering her the truest evidence of
camaraderie.
The frontier is capable of no finer compliment than
this utter disregard of one's folded pages. It betokens
that highest faith in one's fellow-man, the belief that
he should be measured by his present deeds, not by
his past. It says, translated: “This is God's free
country where a man is a man, nothing more. Our
land is new and pure, our faces are to the front. If
you have been square, so much the better; if not,
leave behind the taints of artificial things and start
again on the level—that's all.”
It had happened, therefore, that since the men had
asked her no questions, she had allowed the hours to
pass and still hesitated to explain further than she had
explained to Captain Stephens. It was much easier to
let things continue as they were; and there was, after
all, so little that she was at liberty to tell them.
In the short time since meeting them, the girl had
grown to like Dextry, with his blunt chivalry and
boyish, whimsical philosophy, but she avoided Glenis-
ter, feeling a shrinking, hidden terror of him, ever since
her eavesdropping of the previous night. At the mem-
24


IN WHICH GLENISTER ERRS
ory of that scene she grew hot, then cold-hot with
anger, icy at the sinister power and sureness which had
vibrated in his voice. What kind of life was she enter-
ing where men spoke of strange women with this
assurance and hinted thus of ownership? That he was
handsome and unconscious of it, she acknowledged,
and had she met him in her accustomed circle of friends,
garbed in the conventionalities, she would perhaps have
thought of him as a striking man, vigorous and intelli-
gent; but here he seemed naturally to take on the
attributes of his surroundings, acquiring a picturesque
negligée of dress and morals, and suggesting rugged,
elemental, chilling potentialities. While with him-
and he had sought her repeatedly that day—she was
uneasily aware of his strong personality tugging at her;
aware of the unbridled passionate flood of a nature
unbrooking of delay and heedless of denial. This it
was that antagonized her and set her every mental
sinew in rigid resistance.
During Dextry's garrulous ramblings, Glenister
emerged from the darkness and silently took his place
beside her, against the rail.
“What portent do you see that makes you stare into
the night so anxiously?” he inquired.
“I am wishing for a sight of the midnight sun or the
aurora borealis," she replied.
"Too late for one an' too fur south for the other,"
Dextry interposed. “We'll see the sun further north,
though.”
"Have you ever heard the real origin of the North-
ern Lights ?” the young man inquired.
“Naturally, I never have,” she answered.
"Well, here it is. I have it from the lips of a great
25


THE SPOILERS
hunter of the Tananas. He told it to me when I was
sick, once, in his cabin, and inasmuch as he is a wise
Indian and has a reputation for truth, I have no doubt
that it is scrupulously correct.
“In the very old days, before the white man or
corned beef had invaded this land, the greatest tribe
in all the North was the Tananas. The bravest hunter
of these was Itika, the second chief. He could follow
a moose till it fell exhausted in the snow and he had
many belts made from the claws of the brown bear
which is deadly wicked and, as every one knows, in-
habited by the spirits of 'Yabla-men,' or devils.
“One winter a terrible famine settled over the
Tanana Valley. The moose departed from the gulches
and the caribou melted from the hills like mist. The
dogs grew gaunt and howled all night, the babies cried,
the women became hollow-eyed and peevish.
"Then it was that Itika decided to go hunting over
the saw-tooth range which formed the edge of the
world. They tried to dissuade him, saying it was cer-
tain death because a pack of monstrous white wolves,
taller than the moose and swifter than the eagle, was
known to range these mountains, running madly in
chase. Always, on clear, cold nights, could be seen
the flashing of the moonbeams from their gleaming
hungry sides, and although many hunters had crossed
the passes in other years, they never returned, for the
pack slew them.
"Nothing could deter Itika, however, so he threaded
his way up through the range and, night coming, bur-
rowed into a drift to sleep in his caribou-skin. Peering
out into the darkness, he saw the flashing lights a thou-
sand times brighter than ever before. The whole
26


IN WHICH GLENISTER ERRS
heavens were ablaze with shifting streamers that raced
and writhed back and forth in wild revel. Listening,
he heard the hiss and whine of dry snow under the feet
of the pack, and a distant noise as of rushing winds,
although the air was deathly still. '
"With daylight, he proceeded through the range,
till he came out above a magnificent valley. Descend-
ing the slope, he entered a forest of towering spruce,
while on all sides the snow was trampled with tracks
as wide as a snow-shoe. There came to him a noise
which, as he proceeded, increased till it filled the woods.
It was a frightful din, as though a thousand wolves were
howling with the madness of the kill. Cautiously
creeping nearer, he found a monstrous white animal
struggling beneath a spruce which had fallen upon it
in such fashion as to pinion it securely.
“All brave men are tender-hearted, so Itika set to
work with his axe and cleared away the burden, regard-
less of the peril to himself. When he had released it,
the beast arose and instead of running away addressed
him in the most polite and polished Indian, without a
trace of accent.
"You have saved my life. Now, what can I do for
you?'
“I want to hunt in this valley. My people are
starving,' said Itika, at which the wolf was greatly
pleased and rounded up the rest of the pack to help
in the kill.
“Always thereafter when Itika came to the valley
of the Yukon the giant drove hunted with him. To
this day they run through the mountains on cold, clear
nights, in a multitude, while the light of the moon
flickers from their white sides, flashing up into the sky
27


THE SPOILERS
in weird, fantastic figures. Some people call it Northern
Lights, but old Isaac assured me earnestly, toothlessly,
and with the light of ancient truth, as I lay snow-blind
in his lodge, that it is nothing more remarkable than
the spirit of Itika and the great white wolves.”
“What a queer legend!” she said. “There must be
many of them in this country. I feel that I am going
to like the North."
"Perhaps you will,” Glenister replied, " although it
is not a woman's land.”
“Tell me what led you out here in the first place.
You are an Eastern man. You have had advantages,
education-and yet you choose this. You must love
the North.”
“Indeed I do! It calls to a fellow in some strange
way that a gentler country never could. When once
you've lived the long, lazy June days that never end,
and heard geese honking under a warm, sunlit midnight;
or when once you've hit the trail on a winter morning
so sharp and clear that the air stings your lungs, and
the whole white, silent world glistens like a jewel; yes
—and when you've seen the dogs romping in harness
till the sled runners ring; and the distant mountain-
ranges come out like beautiful carvings, so close you
can reach them - well, there's something in it that
brings you back-that's all, no matter where you've
lost yourself. It means health and equality and un-
restraint. That's what I like best, I dare say-the
utter unrestraint.
“When I was a school-boy, I used to gaze at the map
of Alaska for hours. I'd lose myself in it. It wasn't
anything but a big, blank corner in the North then,
with a name, and mountains, and mystery. The word


IN WHICH GLENISTER ERRS
'Yukon' suggested to me everything unknown and
weird-hairy mastodons, golden river bars, savage Ind-
ians with bone arrow - heads and seal - skin trousers.
When I left college I came as fast as ever I could—the
adventure, I suppose. ...
“The law was considered my destiny. How the
shades of old Choate and Webster and Patrick Henry
must have wailed when I forswore it. I'll bet Black-
stone tore his whiskers.”
“I think you would have made a success," said the
girl, but he laughed.
"Well, anyhow, I stepped out, leaving the way to
the United States Supreme bench unobstructed, and
came North. I found it was where I belonged. I fitted
in. I'm not contented—don't think that I'm ambi-
tious, but I prefer these surroundings to the others-
that's all. I'm realizing my desires. I've made a for-
tune-now I'll see what else the world has."
He suddenly turned to her. “See here,” he abrupt-
ly questioned, “what's your name?"
She started, and glanced towards where Dextry had
stood, only to find that the old frontiersman had slipped
away during the tale.
“Helen Chester," she replied.
“ Helen Chester," he repeated, musingly. “What a
pretty name! It seems almost a pity to change it
to marry, as you will."
“I am not going to Nome to get married.”
He glanced at her quickly.
“ Then you won't like this country. You are two
years too early; you ought to wait till there are rail-
roads and telephones, and tables d'hôte, and chaperons.
It's a man's country yet.”


THE SPOILERS
Surely was a complete mines in
“I don't see why it isn't a woman's country, too.
Surely we can take a part in taming it. Yonder on the
Oregon is a complete railroad, which will be running
from the coast to the mines in a few weeks. Another
ship back there has the wire and poles and fixings for
a telephone system, which will go up in a night. As to
tables d'hôte, I saw a real French count in Seattle with
a monocle. He's bringing in a restaurant outfit, im-
ported snails, and pâté de foies gras. All that's want-
ing is the chaperon. In my flight from the Ohio I left
mine. The sailors caught her. You see I am not far
ahead of schedule."
“What part are you going to take in this taming
process ?” he asked.
She paused long before replying, and when she did
her answer sounded like a jest.
“I herald the coming of the law,” she said.
“ The law! Bah! Red tape, a dead language, and
a horde of shysters! I'm afraid of law in this land;
we're too new and too far away from things. It puts
too much power in too few hands. Heretofore we men
up here have had recourse to our courage and our Colts,
but we'll have to unbuckle them both when the law
comes. I like the court that hasn't any appeal." He
laid hand upon his hip.
“ The Colts may go, but the courage never will,”
she broke in.
"Perhaps. But I've heard rumors already of a plot
to prostitute the law. In Unalaska a man warned
Dextry, with terror in his eye, to beware of it; that
beneath the cloak of Justice was a drawn dagger
whetted for us fellows who own the rich diggings. I
don't think there's any truth in it, but you can't tell.”
come hand whites ma
30


IN WHICH GLENISTER ERRS
“The law is the foundation—there can't be any
progress without it. There is nothing here now but
disorder."
“ There isn't half the disorder you think there is.
There weren't any crimes in this country till the tender-
feet arrived. We didn't know what a thief was. If
you came to a cabin you walked in without knocking.
The owner filled up the coffee-pot and sliced into the
bacon; then when he'd started your meal, he shook
hands and asked your name. It was just the same
whether his cache was full or whether he'd packed his
few pounds of food two hundred miles on his back.
That was hospitality to make your Southern article
look pretty small. If there was no one at home, you
ate what you needed. There was but one unpardon-
able breach of etiquette-to fail to leave dry kindlings.
I'm afraid of the transitory stage we're coming to
that epoch of chaos between the death of the old and
the birth of the new. Frankly, I like the old way best.
I love the license of it. I love to wrestle with nature;
to snatch, and guard, and fight for what I have. I've
been beyond the law for years and I want to stay there,
where life is just what it was intended to be a survival
of the fittest.”
His large hands, as he gripped the bulwark, were
tense and corded, while his rich voice issued softly from
his chest with the hint of power unlimited behind it.
He stood over her, tall, virile, and magnetic. She saw
now why he had so joyously hailed the fight of the
previous night; to one of his kind it was as salt air
to the nostrils. Unconsciously she approached him,
drawn by the spell of his strength.
“My pleasures are violent and my hate is mighty


THE SPOILERS
bitter in my mouth. What I want, I take. That's
been my way in the old life, and I'm too selfish to give
it up."
He was gazing out upon the dimly lucent miles of
ice; but now he turned towards her, and, doing so,
touched her warm hand next his on the rail.
She was staring up at him unaffectedly, so close that
the faint odor from her hair reached him. Her expres-
sion was simply one of wonder and curiosity at this
type, so different from any she had known. But the
man's eyes were hot and blinded with the sight of her,
and be felt only her beauty heightened in the dim light,
the brush of her garments, and the small, soft hand
beneath his. The thrill from the touch of it surged
over him-mastered him.
" What I want-I take," he repeated, and then sud-
denly he reached forth and, taking her in his arms,
crushed her to him, kissing her softly, fiercely, full upon
the lips. For an instant she lay gasping and stunned
against his breast, then she tore her fist free and, with
all her force, struck him full in the face.
It was as though she beat upon a stone. With one
movement he forced her arm to her side, smiling into
her terrified eyes; then, holding her like iron, he kissed
her again and again upon the mouth, the eyes, the hair
—and released her.
“I am going to love you-Helen,” said he.
“And may God strike me dead if I ever stop hating
you!" she cried, her voice coming thick and hoarse
with passion.
Turning, she walked proudly forward towards her
cabin, a trim, straight, haughty figure; and he did not
know that her knees were shaking and weak,
32


CHAPTER IV
THE KILLING
COR four days the Santa Maria felt blindly through
T the white fields, drifting north with the spring tide
that sets through Behring Strait, till, on the morning
of the fifth, open water showed to the east. Creeping
through, she broke out into the last stage of the long
race, amid the cheers of her weary passengers; and the
dull jar of her engines made welcome music to the girl
in the deck state-room.
Soon they picked up a mountainous coast which rose
steadily into majestic, barren ranges, still white with
the melting snows; and at ten in the evening under a
golden sunset, amid screaming whistles, they anchored
in the roadstead of Nome. Before the rumble of her
chains had ceased or the echo from the fleet's salute
had died from the shoreward hills, the ship was sur-
rounded by a swarm of tiny craft clamoring about her
iron sides, while an officer in cap and gilt climbed the
bridge and greeted Captain Stephens. Tugs with trail-
ing lighters circled discreetly about, awaiting the com-
pletion of certain formalities. These over, the uni-
formed gentleman dropped back into his skiff and
rowed away.
“A clean bill of health, captain," he shouted, salut-
ing the commander.
33


THE KILLING
mlaused the girni shara
" The crowd's crazy, and, besides, we'll go ashore right
away. You must be mad with the confinement-it's
on my nerves, too."
As they stepped outside, the door of an adjacent
cabin opened, framing an angular, sharp-featured
woman, who, catching sight of the girl emerging from
Glenister's state-room, paused with shrewdly narrowed
eyes, flashing quick, malicious glances from one to the
other. They came later to remember with regret this
chance encounter, for it was fraught with grave results
for them both.
“Good-evening, Mr. Glenister," the lady said with
acid cordiality.
“Howdy, Mrs. Champian?" He moved away.
She followed a step, staring at Helen.
“Are you going ashore to-night or wait for morn-
ing?"
“ Don't know yet, I'm sure.” Then aside to the
girl he muttered, “ Shake her, she's spying on us."
“Who is she?" asked Miss Chester, a moment later.
“Her husband manages one of the big companies.
She's an old cat."
Gaining her first view of the land, the girl cried out,
sharply. They rode on an oily sea, tinted like bur-
nished copper, while on all sides, amid the faint rattle
and rumble of machinery, scores of ships were belching
cargoes out upon living swarms of scows, tugs, stern-
wheelers, and dories. Here and there Eskimo oomiaks,
fat, walrus-hide boats, slid about like huge, many-
legged water-bugs. An endless, ant-like stream of
tenders, piled high with freight, plied to and from the
shore. A mile distant lay the city, stretched like a
white ribbon between the gold of the ocean sand and
35


THE SPOILERS
the dun of the moss-covered tundra. It was like no
other in the world. At first glance it seemed all made
of new white canvas. In a week its population had
swelled from three to thirty thousand. It now wan-
dered in a slender, sinuous line along the coast for
miles, because only the beach afforded dry camping
ground. Mounting to the bank behind, one sank knee-
deep in moss and water, and, treading twice in the same
tracks, found a bog of oozing, icy mud. Therefore, as
the town doubled daily in size, it grew endwise like a
string of dominoes, till the shore from Cape Nome to
Penny River was a long reach of white, glinting in the
low rays of the arctic sunset like foamy breakers on a
tropic island.
"That's Anvil Creek up yonder," said Glenister.
“There's where the Midas lies. See!” He indicated
a gap in the buttress of mountains rolling back from
the coast. “It's the greatest creek in the world.
You'll see gold by the mule-load, and hillocks of
nuggets. Oh, I'm glad to get back. This is life.
That stretch of beach is full of gold. These hills are
seamed with quartz. The bed-rock of that creek is
yellow. There's gold, gold, gold, everywhere-more
than ever was in old Solomon's mines—and there's
mystery and peril and things unknown.”
“Let us make haste," said the girl. “I have some-
thing I must do to-night. After that, I can learn to
know these things.”
Securing a small boat, they were rowed ashore, the
partners plying their ferryman with eager questions.
Having arrived five days before, he was exploding with
information and volunteered the fruits of his ripe ex-
perience till Dextry stated that they were “sour.
gold, golomon's own.".
36


THE KILLING
doughs' themselves, and owned the Midas, whereupon
Miss Chester marvelled at the awe which sat upon the
man and the wondering stare with which he devoured
the partners, to her own utter exclusion.
“Sufferin' cats! Look at the freight!” ejaculated
Dextry. “ If a storm come up it would bust the com-
munity!"
The beach they neared was walled and crowded to
the high-tide mark with ramparts of merchandise, while
every incoming craft deposited its quota upon what-
ever vacant foot was close at hand, till bales, boxes,
boilers, and baggage of all kinds were confusedly inter-
mixed in the narrow space. Singing longshoremen
trundled burdens from the lighters and piled them on
the heap, while yelling, cursing crowds fought over it
all, selecting, sorting, loading.
There was no room for more, yet hourly they added
to the mass. Teams splashed through the lapping
surf or stuck in the deep sand between hillocks of
goods. All was noise, profanity, congestion, and fever-
ish hurry. This burning haste rang in the voice of the
multitude, showed in its violence of gesture and red-
ness of face, permeated the atmosphere with a magnetic,
electrifying energy.
“It's somethin' fierce ashore," said the oarsman.
"I been up fer three days an' nights steady—there
ain't no room, nor time, nor darkness to sleep in.
Ham an' eggs is a dollar an' a half, an' whiskey's four
bits a throw." He wailed the last, sadly, as a com-
plaint unspeakable.
“Any trouble doin'?” inquired the old man.
“You know it!" the other cried, colloquially. “There
was a massacree in the Northern last night.”
37


THE SPOILERS
“Gamblin' row?”
“ Yep. Tin-horn called 'Missou' done it."
“Sho!” said Dextry. “I know him. He's a bad
actor.” All three men nodded sagely, and the girl
wished for further light, but they volunteered no ex-
planation.
Leaving the skiff, they plunged into turmoil. Dodg-
ing through the tangle, they came out into fenced lots
where tents stood wall to wall and every inch was occu-
pied. Here and there was a vacant spot guarded
jealously by its owner, who gazed sourly upon all men
with the forbidding eye of suspicion. Finding an eddy
in the confusion, the men stopped.
“Where do you want to go?” they asked Miss Ches-
ter.
There was no longer in Glenister's glance that free-
dom with which he had come to regard the women of
the North. He had come to realize dully that here was
a girl driven by some strong purpose into a position
repellent to her. In a man of his type, her indepen-
dence awoke only admiration and her coldness served
but to inflame him the more. Delicacy, in Glenister,
was lost in a remarkable singleness of purpose. He
could laugh at her loathing, smile under her abuse, and
remain utterly ignorant that anything more than his
action in seizing her that night lay at the bottom of her
dislike. He did not dream that he possessed character-
istics abhorrent to her; and he felt a keen reluctance
at parting.
She extended both hands.
“I can never thank you enough for what you have
done--you two; but I shall try. Good-bye!"
Dextry gazed doubtfully at his own hand, rough and
38


THE KILLING
gnarly, then taking hers as he would have handled a
robin's egg, waggled it limply.
“We ain't goin' to turn you adrift this - a - way.
Whatever your destination is, we'll see you to it.”
“I can find my friends," she assured him.
“This is the wrong latitude in which to dispute a
lady, but knowin' this camp from soup to nuts, as I do,
I su'gests a male escort.”
“Very well! I wish to find Mr. Struve, of Dunham
& Struve, lawyers.”
“I'll take you to their offices," said Glenister. “You
see to the baggage, Dex. Meet me at the Second Class
in half an hour and we'll run out to the Midas." They
pushed through the tangle of tents, past piles of lum-
ber, and emerged upon the main thoroughfare, which
ran parallel to the shore.
Nome consisted of one narrow street, twisted between
solid rows of canvas and half-erected frame buildings,
its every other door that of a saloon. There were fair-
looking blocks which aspired to the dizzy height of
three stories, some sheathed in corrugated iron, others
gleaming and galvanized. Lawyers' signs, doctors',
surveyors', were in the upper windows. The street was
thronged with men from every land-Helen Chester
heard more dialects than she could count. Laplanders
in quaint, three-cornered, padded caps idled past. Men
with the tan of the tropics rubbed elbows with yellow-
haired Norsemen, and near her a carefully groomed
Frenchman with riding-breeches and monocle was in
pantomime with a skin-clad Eskimo. To her left was
the sparkling sea, alive with ships of every class. To
her right towered timberless mountains, unpeopled,
unexplored, forbidding, and desolate — their hollows
39


THE SPOILERS
inlaid with snow. On one hand were the life and the
world she knew; on the other, silence, mystery, possible
adventure.
The roadway where she stood was a crush of sundry
vehicles from bicycles to dog-hauled water-carts, and
on all sides men were laboring busily, the echo of ham-
mers mingling with the cries of teamsters and the tin-
kle of music within the saloons.
“And this is midnight!” exclaimed Helen, breath-
lessly. “Do they ever rest?"
“There isn't time—this is a gold stampede. You
haven't caught the spirit of it yet.”
They climbed the stairs in a huge, iron - sheeted
building to the office of Dunham & Struve, and in
answer to their knock, a red - faced, white - haired,
tousled man, in shirt-sleeves and stocking-feet, opened
the door.
“What d'ye wan'?” he bawled, his legs wavering
uncertainly. His eyes were heavy and bloodshot, his
lips loose, and his whole person exhaled alcoholic fumes
like a gust from a still-house. Hanging to the knob,
he strove vainly to solve the mystery of his suspenders
-hiccoughing intermittently.
“Humph! Been drunk ever since I left?" ques-
tioned Glenister.
“Somebody mus' have tol' you,” the lawyer replied.
There was neither curiosity, recognition, nor resent-
ment in his voice. In fact, his head drooped so that
he paid no attention to the girl, who had shrunk back
at sight of him. He was a young man, with marks of
brilliancy showing through the dissipation betrayed by
his silvery hair and coarsened features.
“Oh, I don't know what to do," lamented the girl.
40


THE KILLING
"Anybody else here besides you?” asked her escort
of the lawyer.
“No. I'm runnin' the law business unassisted.
Don't need any help. Dunham's in Wash'n'ton, D. C.,
the lan' of the home, the free of the brave. What can
I do for you?"
He made to cross the threshold hospitably, but
tripped, plunged forward, and would have rolled down
the stairs had not Glenister gathered him up and borne
him back into the office, where he tossed him upon a
bed in a rear room.
“Now what, Miss Chester?" asked the young man,
returning.
“Isn't that dreadful?” she shuddered. “Oh, and I
must see him to-night!” She stamped impatiently.
“I must see him alone."
“No, you mustn't,” said Glenister, with equal de-
cision. “In the first place, he wouldn't know what
you were talking about, and in the second place --I
know Struve. He's too drunk to talk business and too
sober to-well, to see you alone.”
“But I must see him," she insisted. “It's what
brought me here. You don't understand.”
“I understand more than he could. He's in no con-
dition to act on any important matter. You come
around to-morrow when he's sober.”
“It means so much," breathed the girl. “The
beast!”
Glenister noted that she had not wrung her hands
nor even hinted at tears, though plainly her disappoint-
ment and anxiety were consuming her.
“Well, I suppose I'll have to wait, but I don't know
where to go-some hotel, I suppose."
41


THE SPOILERS
“There aren't any. They're building two, but to-
night you couldn't hire a room in Nome for money. I
was about to say 'love or money. Have you no other
friends here-no women? Then you must let me find
a place for you. I have a friend whose wife will take
you in.”
She rebelled at this. Was she never to have done
with this man's favors? She thought of returning to
the ship, but dismissed that. She undertook to decline
his aid, but he was half-way down the stairs and paid
no attention to her beginning—so she followed him.
It was then that Helen Chester witnessed her first
tragedy of the frontier, and through it came to know
better the man whom she disliked and with whom she
had been thrown so fatefully. Already she had thrilled
at the spell of this country, but she had not learned
that strength and license carry blood and violence as
corollaries.
Emerging from the doorway at the foot of the stairs,
they drifted slowly along the walk, watching the crowd.
Besides the universal tension, there were laughter and
hope and exhilaration in the faces. The enthusiasm of
this boyish multitude warmed one. The girl wished to
get into this spirit—to be one of them. Then suddenly
from the babble at their elbows came a discordant note,
not long nor loud, only a few words, penetrating and
harsh with the metallic quality lent by passion.
Helen glanced over her shoulder to find that the
smiles of the throng were gone and that its eyes were
bent on some scene in the street, with an eager interest
she had never seen mirrored before. Simultaneously
Glenister spoke:
“Come away from here."
42


THE KILLING
With the quickened eye of experience he foresaw
trouble and tried to drag her on, but she shook off his
grasp impatiently, and, turning, gazed absorbed at the
spectacle which unfolded itself before her. Although
not comprehending the play of events, she felt vaguely
the quick approach of some crisis, yet was unprepared
for the swiftness with which it came.
Her eyes had leaped to the figures of two men in the
street from whom the rest had separated like oil from
water. One was slim and well dressed; the other
bulky, mackinawed, and lowering of feature. It was
the smaller who spoke, and for a moment she mis-
judged his bloodshot eyes and swaying carriage to be
the result of alcohol, until she saw that he was racked
with fury.
“Make good, I tell you, quick! Give me that bill of
sale, you —
The unkempt man swung on his heel with a growl
and walked away, his course leading him towards Glen-
ister and the girl. With two strides he was abreast of
them; then, detecting the flashing movement of the
other, he whirled like a wild animal. His voice had the
snarl of a beast in it.
“Ye had to have it, didn't ye? Well, there!"
The actions of both men were quick as light, yet to
the girl's taut senses they seemed theatrical and delib-
erate. Into her mind was seared forever the memory
of that second, as though the shutter of a camera had
snapped, impressing upon her brain the scene, sharp,
clear-cut, and vivid. The shaggy back of the large
man almost brushing her, the rage - drunken, white-
shirted man in the derby hat, the crowd sweeping back-
ward like rushes before a blast, men with arms flexed
43


THE KILLING
quitted, then as he turned he coughed bestially, spit-
ting out a mouthful of blood. His knees wavered. He
vanished within the portals and, in the sickly silence
that fell, they heard his hob-nailed boots clumping
slowly up the stairs.
Noise awoke and rioted down the thoroughfare.
Men rushed forth from every quarter, and the ghastly
object in the dirt was hidden by a seething mass of
miners.
Glenister raised the girl, but her head rolled limply,
and she would have slipped to her knees again had he
not placed his arm about her waist. Her eyes were
staring and horror-filled.
“Don't be frightened,” said he, smiling at her re-
assuringly; but his own lips shook and the sweat stood
out like dew on him; for they had both been close to
death. There came a surge and swirl through the
crowd, and Dextry swooped upon them like a hawk.
“Be ye hurt? Holy Mackinaw! When I see 'em
blaze away I yells at ye fit to bust my throat. I shore
thought you was gone. Although I can't say but this
killin' was a sight for sore eyes—so neat an' genteel -
still, as a rule, in these street brawls it's the innocuous
bystander that has flowers sent around to his house
afterwards."
i "Look at this,” said Glenister. Breast-high in the
wall against which they had crouched, not three feet
apart, were bullet holes.
“ Them's the first two he unhitched,” Dextry re-
marked, jerking his head towards the object in the
street. “Must have been a new gun an' pulled hard-
throwed him to the right. See!”
Even to the girl it was patent that, had she not been
45


THE SPOILERS
snatched as she was, the bullet would have found
her.
“Come away quick," she panted, and they led her
into a near-by store, where she sank upon a seat and
trembled until Dextry brought her a glass of whiskey.
“Here, Miss," he said. “Pretty tough go for a
*cheechako.' I'm afraid you ain't gettin' enamoured
of this here country a whole lot.”
For half an hour he talked to her, in his whimsical
way, of foreign things, till she was quieted. Then the
partners arose to go. Although Glenister had arranged
for her to stop with the wife of the merchant for the
rest of the night, she would not.
"I can't go to bed. Please don't leave me! I'm too
nervous. I'll go mad if you do. The strain of the last
week has been too much for me. If I sleep I'll see the
faces of those men again.”
Dextry talked with his companion, then made a pur-
chase which he laid at the lady's feet.
“Here's a pair of half-grown gum boots. You put
'em on an' come with us. We'll take your mind off of
things complete. An' as fer sweet dreams, when you
get back you'll make the slumbers of the just seem as
restless as a riot, or the antics of a mountain-goat which
nimbly leaps from crag to crag, and-well, that's rest-
less enough. Come on!”
As the sun slanted up out of Behring Sea, they
marched back towards the hills, their feet ankle-deep
in the soft fresh moss, while the air tasted like a cool
draught and a myriad of earthy odors rose up and en-
circled them. Snipe and reed birds were noisy in the
hollows and from the misty tundra lakes came the
honking of brant. After their weary weeks on ship-
46


CHAPTER V
WHEREIN A MAN APPBARS
She build;'ay of totes
IN the lives of countries there are crises where, for a
I breath, destinies lie in the laps of the gods and are
jumbled, heads or tails. Thus are marked distinctive
cycles like the seven ages of a man, and though, per-
haps, they are too subtle to be perceived at the time,
yet, having swung past the shadowy milestones, the
epochs disclose theinselves.
Such a period in the progress of the Far Northwest
was the nineteenth day of July, although to those con-
cerned in the building of this new empire the day ap-
pealed only as the date of the coming of the law. All
Nome gathered on the sands as lighters brought ashore
Judge Stillman and his following. It was held fitting
that the Senator should be the ship to safeguard the
dignity of the first court and to introduce Justice into
this land of the wild.
The interest awakened by His Honor was augmented
by the fact that he was met on the beach by a charm-
ing girl, who flung herself upon him with evident
delight.
“That's his niece," said some one. “She came up
on the first boat-name's Chester-swell looker, eh?”
Another new-comer attracted even more notice than
the limb of the law; a gigantic, well-groomed man,
48


WHEREIN A MAN APPEARS
with keen, close-set eyes, and that indefinable easy
movement and polished bearing that come from confi-
dence, health, and travel. Unlike the others, he did
not dally on the beach nor display much interest in
his surroundings; but, with purposeful frown strode
through the press, up into the heart of the city. His
companion was Struve's partner, Dunham, a middle-
aged, pompous man. They went directly to the offices
of Dunham & Struve, where they found the white-
haired junior partner.
"Mighty glad to meet you, Mr. McNamara," said
Struve. “Your name is a household word in my part
of the country. My people were mixed up in Dakota
politics somewhat, so I've always had a great admira-
tion for you and I'm glad you've come to Alaska. This
is a big country and we need big men.”
"Did you have any trouble?” Dunham inquired
when the three had adjourned to a private room.
"Trouble,” said Struve, ruefully; "well, I wonder if
I did. Miss Chester brought me your instructions
O. K. and I got busy right off. But, tell me this-
how did you get the girl to act as messenger ?"
“There was no one else to send,” answered Mc-
Namara. “Dunham intended sailing on the first boat,
but he was detained in Washington with me, and the
Judge had to wait for us at Seattle. We were afraid
to trust a stranger for fear he might get curious and
examine the papers. That would have meant-" He
moved his hand eloquently.
Struve nodded. “I see. Does she know what was
in the documents ?".
"Decidedly not. Women and business don't mix.
I hope you didn't tell her anything."
49


THE SPOILERS
"No; I haven't had a chance. She seemed to take
a dislike to me for some reason. I haven't seen her
since the day after she got here."
"The Judge told her it had something to do with
preparing the way for his court,” said Dunham, “and
that if the papers were not delivered before he arrived
it might cause a lot of trouble litigation, riots, blood-
shed, and all that. He filled her up on generalities till
the girl was frightened to death and thought the safety
of her uncle and the whole country depended on her."
"Well,” continued Struve, “it's dead easy to hire
men to jump claims and it's dead easy to buy their
rights afterwards, particularly when they know they
haven't got any—but what course do you follow when
owners go gunning for you?”
McNamara laughed.
“Who did that?".
"A benevolent, silver-haired old Texan pirate by the
name of Dextry. He's one half owner in the Midas
and the other half mountain-lion; as peaceable, you'd
imagine, as a benediction, but with the temperament
of a Geronimo. I sent Galloway out to relocate the
claim, and he got his notices up in the night when they
were asleep, but at 6 A.M. he came flying back to my
room and nearly hammered the door down. I've seen
fright in varied forms and phases, but he had them all,
with some added starters.
“Hide me out, quickl'he panted.
••• What's up?' I asked.
“I've stirred up a breakfast of grizzly bear, small-
pox, and sudden death and it don't set well on my
stummick. Let me in.'
"I had to keep him hidden three days, for this
50


WHEREIN A MAN APPEARS
gentle-mannered old cannibal roamed the streets with
a cannon in his hand, breathing fire and pestilence."
“Anybody else act up?" queried Dunham.
"No; all the rest are Swedes and they haven't got
the nerve to fight. They couldn't lick a spoon if they
tried. These other men are different, though. There
are two of them, the old one and a young fellow. I'm
a little afraid to mix it up with them, and if their
claim wasn't the best in the district, I'd say let it
alone.”
“I'll attend to that,” said McNamara.
Struve resumed:
“Yes, gentlemen, I've been working pretty hard and
also pretty much in the dark so far. I'm groping for
light. When Miss Chester brought in the papers I got
busy instanter. I clouded the title to the richest
placers in the region, but I'm blamed if I quite see the
use of it. We'd be thrown out of any court in the land
if we took them to law. What's the game-black-
mail ?"
"Humph!" ejaculated McNamara. “What do you
take me for?"
"Well, it does seem small for Alec McNamara, but
I can't see what else you're up to."
“Within a week I'll be running every good mine in
the Nome district."
McNamara's voice was calm but decisive, his glance
keen and alert, while about him clung such a breath of
power and confidence that it compelled belief even in
the face of this astounding speech.
In spite of himself, Wilton Struve, lawyer, rake, and
gentlemanly adventurer, felt his heart leap at what the
other's daring implied. The proposition was utterly
I Ca. Within distri
51


THE SPOILERS
be three walkece've only is so shall
"Indeed!” said the old man, his shifting eyes now
resting full on the other with a flash of unmistakable
interest. “I hear that is a wonderful mine. Have you
begun work yet?”
"No. We'll commence sluicing day after to-mor-
row. It has been a late spring. The snow in the gulch
was deep and the ground thaws slowly. We've been
building houses and doing dead work, but we've got
our men on the ground, waiting."
"I am greatly interested. Won't you walk with us
to the hotel? I want to hear more about these won-
derful placers."
į “Well, they are great placers,” said the miner, as
the three walked on together; "nobody knows how
great because we've only scratched at them yet. In
the first place the ground is so shallow and the gold is
so easy to get, that if nature didn't safeguard us in the
winter we'd never dare leave our claims for fear of
'snipers.' They'd run in and rob us."
“How much will the Anvil Creek mines produce this
summer?" asked the Judge.
"It's hard to tell, sir; but we expect to average five
thousand a day from the Midas alone, and there are
other claims just as good.”
“Your title is all clear, I dare say, eh?”
“Absolutely, except for one jumper, and we don't
take him seriously. A fellow named Galloway relocat-
ed us one night last month, but he didn't allege any
grounds for doing so, and we could never find trace
of him. If we had, our title would be as clean as
snow again.” He said the last with a peculiar inflec-
tion.
"You wouldn't use violence, I trust?”
54


WHEREIN A MAN APPEARS
“Sure! Why not? It has worked all right hereto-
'fore.”
“But, my dear sir, those days are gone. The law is
here and it is the duty of every one to abide by it."
“Well, perhaps it is; but in this country we consider
a man's mine as sacred as his family. We didn't know
what a lock and key were in the early times and we
didn't have any troubles except famine and hardship.
It's different now, though. Why, there have been
more claims jumped around here this spring than in the
whole length and history of the Yukon."
They had reached the hotel, and Glenister paused,
turning to the girl as the Judge entered. When she
started to follow, he detained her.
"I came down from the hills on purpose to see you.
It has been a long week-".
"Don't talk that way,” she interrupted, coldly. “I
don't care to hear it.”
“See here—what makes you shut me out and wrap
yourself up in your haughtiness? I'm sorry for what
I did that night — I've told you so repeatedly. I've
wrung my soul for that act till there's nothing left but
repentance.”
"It is not that,” she said, slowly. "I have been
thinking it over during the past month, and now that
I have gained an insight into this life I see that it wasn't
an unnatural thing for you to do. It's terrible to think
of, but it's true. I don't mean that it was pardonable,"
she continued, quickly, "for it wasn't, and I hate you
when I think about it, but I suppose I put myself into
a position to invite such actions. No; I'm sufficiently
broad-minded not to blame you unreasonably, and I
think I could like you in spite of it, just for what you
55


THE SPOILERS
have done for me; but that isn't all. There is some-
thing deeper. You saved my life and I'm grateful, but
you frighten me, always. It is the cruelty in your
strength, it is something away back in you-lustful,
and ferocious, and wild, and crouching."
He smiled wryly.
"It is my local color, maybe-absorbed from this
country. I'll try to change, though, if you want me to.
I'll let them rope and throw and brand me. I'll take
on the graces of civilization and put away revenge and
ambition and all the rest of it, if it will make you like
me any better. Why, I'll even promise not to violate
the person of our claim-jumper if I catch him; and
Heaven knows that means that Samson has parted
with his locks."
“I think I could like you if you did,” she said, “but
you can't do it. You are a savage.”
ambitiostaces ope and tinge, thom
There are no clubs nor marts where men foregather
for business in the North-nothing but the saloon, and
this is all and more than a club. Here men congregate
to drink, to gamble, and to traffic.
It was late in the evening when Glenister entered
the Northern and passed idly down the row of games,
pausing at the crap-table, where he rolled the dice when
his turn came. Moving to the roulette-wheel, he lost a
stack of whites, but at the faro “ lay-out” his luck was
better, and he won a gold coin on the “high-card.”
Whereupon he promptly ordered a round of drinks for
the men grouped about him, a formality always prece-
dent to overtures of general friendship.
As he paused, glass in hand, his eyes were drawn to a
man who stood close by, talking earnestly. The aspect
56


WHEREIN A MAN APPEARS
of the stranger challenged notice, for he stood high above
his companions with a peculiar grace of attitude in place
of the awkwardness common in men of great stature.
Among those who were listening intently to the man's
carefully modulated tones, Glenister recognized Mex-
ico Mullins, the ex-gambler who had given Dextry the
warning at Unalaska. As he further studied the listen-
ing group, a drunken man staggered uncertainly through
the wide doors of the saloon and, gaining sight of the
tall stranger, blinked, then approached him, speaking
with a loud voice:
“Well, if 'tain't ole Alec McNamara! How do, ye
ole pirate!”
McNamara nodded and turned his back coolly upon
the new-comer.
“Don't turn your dorsal fin to me; I wan' to talk to
ye.”
McNamara continued his calm discourse till he re-
ceived a vicious whack on the shoulder; then he turned
for a moment to interrupt his assailant's garrulous pro-
fanity:
“Don't bother me. I am engaged."
“Ye won' talk to me, eh? Well, I'm goin' to talk
to you, see? I guess you'd listen if I told these people
all I know about you. Turn around here."
His voice was menacing and attracted general notice.
Observing this, McNamara addressed him, his words
dropping clear, concise, and cold:
“Don't talk to me. You are a drunken nuisance.
Go away before something happens to you."
Again he turned away, but the drunken man seized
and whirled him about, repeating his abuse, encouraged
by this apparent patience.
57
----
--


THE SPOILERS
“Your pardon for an instant, gentlemen.” McNamara
laid a large white and manicured hand upon the flannel
sleeve of the miner and gently escorted him through the
entrance to the sidewalk, while the crowd smiled.
As they cleared the threshold, however, he clenched
his fist without a word and, raising it, struck the sot
fully and cruelly upon the jaw. His victim fell silently,
the back of his head striking the boards with a hollow
thump; then, without even observing how he lay, Mc-
Namara re-entered the saloon and took up his conversa-
tion where he had been interrupted. His voice was as
evenly regulated as his movements, betraying not a
sign of anger, excitement, or bravado. He lit a cigar-
ette, extracted a note-book, and jotted down certain
memoranda supplied him by Mexico Mullins.
All this time the body lay across the threshold with-
out a sign of life. The buzz of the roulette-wheel was
resumed and the crap - dealer began his monotonous
routine. Every eye was fixed on the nonchalant man
at the bar, but the unconscious creature outside the
threshold lay unheeded, for in these men's code it
behooves the most humane to practise a certain aloof-
ness in the matter of private brawls.
Having completed his notes, McNamara shook hands
gravely with his companions and strode out through
the door, past the bulk that sprawled across his path,
and, without pause or glance, disappeared.
A dozen willing, though unsympathetic, hands laid
the drunkard on the roulette-table, where the bartender
poured pitcher upon pitcher of water over him.
“He ain't hurt none to speak of,” said a bystander;
then added, with enthusiasm:
. “But say! There's a man in this here camp!"
58


CHAPTER VI
AND A MINE IS JUMPBD
“ W H O'S your new shift boss?” Glenister inquired
V of his partner, a few days later, indicating a
man in the cut below, busied in setting a line of sluices.
“That's old 'Slapjack' Simms, friend of mine from
up Dawson way.”
Glenister laughed immoderately, for the object was
unusually tall and loose-jointed, and wore a soiled suit
of yellow mackinaw. He had laid off his coat, and now
the baggy, bilious trousers hung precariously from his
angular shoulders by suspenders of alarming frailty.
His legs were lost in gum boots, also loose and cavern-
ous, and his entire costume looked relaxed and flap-
ping, so that he gave the impression of being able to
shake himself out of his raiment, and to rise like a
burlesque Aphrodite. His face was overgrown with a
grizzled tangle that looked as though it had been
trimmed with button - hole scissors, while above the
brush heap grandly soared a shiny, dome-like head.
“Has he always been bald ?”
“Naw! He ain't bald at all. He shaves his nob.
In the early days he wore a long flowin' mane which
was inhabited by crickets, tree-toads, and such fauna.
It got to be a hobby with him finally, so that he growed
superstitious about goin' uncurried, and would back
59


THE SPOILERS
into a corner with both guns drawed if a barber came
near him. But once Hank — that's his real name
undertook to fry some slapjacks, and in givin' the skil-
let a heave, the dough lit among his forest primeval,
jest back of his ears, soft side down. Hank polluted the
gulch with langwidge which no man had ought to keep
in himself without it was fumigated. Disreppitable-
ness oozed out through him like sweat through an ice-
pitcher, an' since then he's been known as Slapjack
Simms, an' has kept his head shingled smooth as a gun
bar'l. He's a good miner, though; ain't none better-
an' square as a die.”
Sluicing had begun on the Midas. Long sinuous
lengths of canvas hose wound down the creek bottom
from the dam, like gigantic serpents, while the roll of
gravel through the flumes mingled musically with the
rush of waters, the tinkle of tools, and the song of steel
on rock. There were four "strings” of boxes abreast,
and the heaving line of shovellers ate rapidly into the
creek bed, while teams with scrapers splashed through
the tail races in an atmosphere of softened profanity.
In the big white tents which sat back from the bluffs,
fifty men of the night shift were asleep; for there is no
respite here--no night, no Sunday, no halt, during the
hundred days in which the Northland lends herself to
pillage.
The mine lay cradled between wonderful, mossy,
willow-mottled mountains, while above and below the
gulch was dotted with tents and huts, and everywhere,
from basin to hill crest, men dug and blasted, punily,
patiently, while their tracks grew daily plainer over
the face of this inscrutable wilderness.
A great contentment filled the two partners as they
60


AND A MINE IS JUMPED
looked on this scene. To wrest from reluctant earth
her richest treasures, to add to the wealth of the world,
to create-here was satisfaction.
“We ain't robbin' no widders an' orphans doin' it,
neither," Dextry suddenly remarked, expressing his
partner's feelings closely. They looked at each other
and smiled with that rare understanding that exceeds
words.
Descending into the cut, the old man filled a gold-
pan with dirt taken from under the feet of the workers,
and washed it in a puddle, while the other watched his
dexterous whirling motions. When he had finished,
they poked the stream of yellow grains into a pile, then,
with heads together, guessed its weight, laughing again
delightedly, in perfect harmony and contentment.
“I've been waitin' a turrible time fer this day," said
the elder. “I've suffered the plagues of prospectin'
from the Mexicos to the Circle, an' yet I don't begretch
it none, now that I've struck pay.”
While they spoke, two miners struggled with a
bowlder they had unearthed, and having scraped and
washed it carefully, staggered back to place it on the
cleaned bed-rock behind. One of them slipped, and
it crashed against a brace which held the sluices in
place. These boxes stand more than a man's height
above the bed-rock, resting on supporting posts and
running full of water. Should a sluice fall, the rush-
ing stream carries out the gold which has lodged in the
riffles and floods the bed-rock, raising havoc. Too late
the partners saw the string of boxes sway and bend at
the joint. Then, before they could reach the threat-
ened spot to support it, Slapjack Simms, with a shriek,
plunged Alapping down into the cut and seized the flume.
og on susluice faloaged iz Tate
carries out the hould a sluiceting posts
riffles and
61


THE SPOILERS
His great height stood him in good stead now, for where
the joint had opened, water poured forth in a cataract.
He dived under the breach unhesitatingly and, stoop-
ing, lifted the line as near to its former level as possible,
holding the entire burden upon his naked pate. He
gesticulated wildly for help, while over him poured the
deluge of icy, muddy water. It entered his gaping
waistband, bulging out his yellow trousers till they
were fat and full and the seams were bursting, while his
yawning boot-tops became as boiling springs. Mean-
while he chattered forth profanity in such volume that
the ear ached under it as must have ached the heroic
Slapjack under the chill of the melting snow. He was
relieved quickly, however, and emerged triumphant,
though blue and puckered, his wilderness of whiskers
streaming like limber stalactites, his boots loosely
“squishing," while oaths still poured from him in such
profusion that Dextry whispered:
"Ain't he a ring-tailed wonder? It's plumb solemn
an' reverent the way he makes them untamed cuss-
words sit up an' beg. It's a privilege to be present.
That's a gift, that is.”
“You'd better get some dry clothes," they suggested,
and Slapjack proceeded a few paces towards the tents,
hobbling as though treading on pounded glass.
"Ow-w!" he yelled. “These blasted boots is full
of gravel.”
He seated himself and tugged at his foot till the
boot came away with a sucking sound, then, instead
of emptying the accumulation at random, he poured
the contents into Dextry's empty gold-pan, rinsing it
out carefully. The other boot he emptied likewise.
They held a surprising amount of sediment, because
"Squishing like li puckered and
62


AND A MINE IS JUMPED
aried with it. Pat this pointi had dive
airly into bath the calles at this sand, and the
the stream that had emerged from the crack in the
sluices had carried with it pebbles, sand, and all the
concentration of the riffles at this point. Standing
directly beneath the cataract, most of it had dived
fairly into his inviting waistband, following down the
lines of least resistance into his boot-legs and boiling
out at the knees.
“Wash that,” he said. “You're apt to get a pros-
pect."
With artful passes Dextry settled it in the pan bot-
tom and washed away the gravel, leaving a yellow,
glittering pile which raised a yell from the men who had
lingered curiously.
“He pans forty dollars to the boot - leg," one
shouted.
“How much do you run to the foot, Slapjack?"
“He's a reg'lar free-milling ledge.”
“No, he ain't-he's too thin. He's nothing but a
stringer, but he'll pay to work."
The old miner grinned toothlessly.
“Gentlemen, there ain't no better way to save fine
gold than with undercurrents an' blanket riffles. I'll
have to wash these garments of mine an' clean up the
soapsuds 'cause there's a hundred dollars in gold-dust
clingin' to my person this minute.” He went drip-
ping up the bank, while the men returned to their work
singing
After lunch Dextry saddled his bronco.
" I'm goin' to town for a pair of gold-scales, but I'll
be back by supper, then we'll clean up tetween shifts.
She'd ought to give us a thousand ounces, the way that
ground prospects." He loped down the gulch, while
his partner returned to the pit, the flashing shovel
63


THE SPOILERS
blades, and the rumbling undertone of the big workings
tbat so fascinated him.
It was perhaps four o'clock when he was aroused
from his labors by a shout from the bunk-tent, where
a group of horsemen had clustered. As Glenister drew
near, he saw among them Wilton Struve, the lawyer,
and the big, well-dressed tenderfoot of the Northern
-McNamara—the man of the heavy hand. Struve
straightway engaged him.
“Say, Glenister, we've come out to see about the
title to this claim."
“What about it?".
“Well, it was relocated about a month ago." He
paused.
“ Yes. What of that?"
“Galloway has commenced suit.”
“The ground belongs to Dextry and me. We dis-
covered it, we opened it up, we've complied with the
law, and we're going to hold it." Glenister spoke with
such conviction and heat as to nonplus Struve, but Mc-
Namara, who had sat his horse silently until now, an-
swered:
"Certainly, sir; if your title is good you will be pro-
tected, but the law has arrived in Alaska and we've got
to let it take its course. There's no need of violence
none whatever—but, briefly, the situation is this: Mr.
Galloway has commenced action against you; the court
has enjoined you from working and has appointed me
as receiver to operate the mine until the suit is settled.
It's an extraordinary procedure, of course, but the con-
ditions are extraordinary in this country. The season
is so short that it would be unjust to the rightful owner
if the claim lay idle all summer-so, to avoid that, I've
64


AND A MINE IS JUMPED
been put in charge, with instructions to operate it and
preserve the proceeds subject to the court's order. Mr.
Voorhees here is the United States Marshal. He will
serve the papers."
Glenister threw up his hand in a gesture of restraint.
“Hold on! Do you mean to tell me that any court
would recognize such a claim as Galloway's?"
“The law recognizes everything. If his grounds are
no good, so much the better for you."
“You can't put in a receiver without notice to us.
Why, good Lord! we never heard of a suit being com-
menced. We've never even been served with a sum-
mons and we haven't had a chance to argue in our own
defence."
"I have just said that this is a remarkable state of
affairs and unusual action had to be taken,” McNamara
replied, but the young miner grew excited.
"Look here—this gold won't get away. It's safe in
the ground. We'll knock off work and let the claim
lie idle till the thing is settled. You can't really expect
us to surrender possession of our mine on the mere alle-
gation of some unknown man. That's ridiculous. We
won't do it. Why, you'll have to let us argue our case,
at least, before you try to put us off.”
Voorhees shook his head. “We'll have to follow
instructions. The thing for you to do is to appear
before the court to-morrow and have the receiver dis-
missed. If your title is as good as you say it is, you
won't have any trouble.”
“You're not the only ones to suffer,” added Mc-
Namara. “We've taken possession of all the mines
below here." He nodded down the gulch. “I'm an
officer of the court and under bond"
65


THE SPOILERS
“How much?”
“Five thousand dollars for each claim."
“What! Why, heavens, man, the poorest of these
mines is producing that much every day!".
While he spoke, Glenister was rapidly debating what
course to follow.
“The place to argue this thing is before Judge Still-
man,” said Struve-but with little notion of the con-
flict going on within Glenister. The youth yearned to
fight-not with words nor quibbles nor legal phrases,
but with steel and blows. And he felt that the impulse
was as righteous as it was natural, for he knew this proc-
ess was unjust, an outrage. Mexico Mullins's warning
recurred to him. And yet. He shifted slowly as he
talked till his back was to the door of the big tent.
They were watching him carefully, for all their apparent
languor and looseness in saddle; then as he started to
leap within and rally his henchmen, his mind went back
to the words of Judge Stillman and his niece. Surely
that old man was on the square. He couldn't be other-
wise with her beside him, believing in him; and a sus-
picion of deeper plots behind these actions was ground-
less. So far, all was legal, he supposed, with his scant
knowledge of law; though the methods seemed un-
reasonable. The men might be doing what they
thought to be right. Why be the first to resist? The
men on the mines below had not done so. The title to
this ground was capable of such easy proof that he and
Dex need have no uneasiness. Courts do not rob hon-
est people nowadays, he argued, and moreover, perhaps
the girl's words were true, perhaps she would think more
of him if he gave up the old fighting ways for her sake.
Certainly armed resistance to her uncle's first edict
-
-
-
66


CHAPTER VII
THE “BRONCO KID'S" BAVBSDROPPING
ATE in July it grows dark as midnight approaches,
so that the many lights from doorway and window
seem less garish and strange than they do a month
earlier. In the Northern there was good business
doing. The new bar fixtures, which had cost a king's
ransom, or represented the one night's losings of a
Klondike millionaire, shone rich, dark, and enticing,
while the cut glass sparkled with iridescent hues, re-
flecting, in a measure, the prismatic moods, the dancing
spirits of the crowd that crushed past, halting at the
gambling games, or patronizing the theatre in the rear.
The old bar furniture, brought down by dog team from
"Up River," was established at the rear extremity of
the long building, just inside the entrance to the dance-
hall, where patrons of the drama might, with a modi.
cum of delay and inconvenience, quaff as deeply of the
beaker as of the ballet.
Now, however, the show had closed, the hall had
been cleared of chairs and canvas, exposing a glassy,
tempting surface, and the orchestra had moved to the
stage. They played a rollicking, blood-stirring two-
step, while the floor swam with dancers.
At certain intervals the musicians worked feverishly
up to a crashing crescendo, supported by the voices, of
68


THE “BRONCO KID'S” E AVESDROPPING
the dancers, until all joined at the top note in a yell,
while the drummer fired a .44 Colt into a box of wet
sawdust beside his chair-all in time, all in the swing-
ing spirit of the tune.
The men, who were mostly young, danced like college
boys, while the women, who were all young and good
dancers, floated through the measures with the ease of
rose-leaves on a summer stream. Faces were flushed,
eyes were bright, and but rarely a voice sounded that
was not glad. Most of the noise came from the men,
and although one caught, here and there, a hint of hag-
gard lines about the girlish faces, and glimpsed occa-
sional eyes that did not smile, yet as a whole the scene
was one of genuine enjoyment.
Suddenly the music ceased and the couples crowd-
ed to the bar. The women took harmless drinks;
the men, mostly whiskey. Rarely was the choice of
potations criticised, though occasionally some ruddy
eschewer of sobriety insisted that his lady “take the
same," avowing that “hootch," having been demon-
strated beneficial in his case, was good for her also.
Invariably the lady accepted without dispute, and
invariably the man failed to note her glance at the bar-
tender, or the silent substitution by that capable per-
son of ginger-ale for whiskey or of plain water for gin.
In turn, the mixers collected one dollar from each man,
flipping to the girl a metal percentage-check which she
added to her store. In the curtained boxes overhead,
men bought bottles with foil about the corks, and then
subterfuge on the lady's part was idle, but, on the other
hand, she was able to pocket for each bottle a check
redeemable at five dollars.
A stranger, straight from the East, would have re-
69


THE SPOILERS
marked first upon the good music, next upon the good
looks of the women, and then upon the shabby clothes
of the men - for some of them were in “mukluk,"
others in sweaters with huge initials and winged em-
blems, and all were collarless.
Outside in the main gambling-room there were but
few women. Men crowded in dense masses about the
faro lay - out, the wheel, craps, the Klondike game,
pangingi, and the card-tables. They talked of busi-
ness, of home, of women, bought and sold mines, and
bartered all things from hams to honor. The groomed
and clean, the unkempt and filthy jostled shoulder to
shoulder, equally affected by the license of the gold-
fields and the exhilaration of the New. The mystery
of the North had touched them all. The glad, bright
wine of adventure filled their veins, and they spoke
mightily of things they had resolved to do, or recounted
with simple diffidence the strange stories of their accom-
plishment.
The “ Bronco Kid,” familiar from Atlin to Nome as
the best“ bank" dealer on the Yukon, worked the shift
from eight till two. He was a slender man of thirty,
dexterous in movement, slow to smile, soft of voice,
and known as a living flame among women. He had
dealt the biggest games of the early days, and had no
enemies. Yet, though many called him friend, they
wondered inwardly.
It was a strong play the Kid had to-night, for Swede
Sam, of Dawson, ventured many stacks of yellow chips,
and he was a quick, aggressive gambler. A Jew sat at
the king end with ten neatly creased one-thousand-
dollar bills before him, together with piles of smaller
currency. He adventured viciously and without sys-
70


THE “BRONCO KID’S” E AVESDROPPING
tem, while outsiders to the number of four or five cut
in sporadically with small bets. The game was difficult
to follow; consequently the lookout, from his raised
dais, was leaning forward, chin in hand, while the group
was hedged about by eager on-lookers.
Faro is a closed book to most people, for its intrica-
cies are confusing. Lucky is he who has never per-
severed in solving its mysteries nor speculated upon
the “systems" of beating it. From those who have
learned it, the game demands practice, dexterity, and
coolness. The dealer must run the cards, watch the
many shifting bets, handle the neatly piled checks,
figure, lightning-like, the profits and losses. It was his
unerring, clock like regularity in this that had won the
Kid his reputation. This night his powers were taxed.
He dealt silently, scowlingly, his long white fingers
nervously caressing the cards.
This preoccupation prevented his noticing the rustle
and stir of a new-comer who had crowded up behind
him, until he caught the wondering glances of those in
front and saw that the Israelite was staring past him,
his money forgotten, his eyes beady and sharp, his rat-
like teeth showing in a grin of admiration. Swede Sam
glared from under his unkempt shock and felt uncer-
tainly towards the open collar of his flannel shirt where
a kerchief should have been. The men who were stand-
ing gazed at the new-comer, some with surprise, others
with a half smile of recognition.
Bronco glanced quickly over his shoulder, and as he
did so the breath caught in his throat-but for only
an instant. A girl stood so close beside him that the
lace of her gown brushed his sleeve. He was shuffling
at the moment and dropped a card, then nodded to her,
71


THE SPOILERS
thin, silken dark, dari was oval,
speaking quietly, as he stooped to regain the paste-
board:
“ Howdy, Cherry?".
She did not answer-only continued to look at the
“ lay-out.” “What a woman!” he thought. She was
not too tall, with smoothly rounded bust and hips, and
long waist, all well displayed by her perfectly fitting
garments. Her face was oval, the mouth rather large,
the eyes of dark, dark-blue, prominently outlined under
thin, silken lids. Her dull-gold hair was combed low
over the ears, and her smile showed rows of sparkling
teeth before it dived into twin dimples. Strangest of
all, it was an innocent face, the face and smile of a
school-girl.
The Kid finished his shuffling awkwardly and slid
the cards into the box. Then the woman spoke:
“Let me have your place, Bronco.”.
The men gasped, the Jew snickered, the lookout
straightened in his chair.
“Better not. It's a hard game," said the Kid, but
her voice was imperious as she commanded him:
“Hurry up. Give me your place."
Bronco arose, whereupon she settled in his chair,
tucked in her skirts, removed her gioves, and twisted
into place the diamonds on her hands.
"What the devil's this?” said the lookout, roughly.
“Are you drunk, Bronco? Get out of that chair,
miss."
She turned to him slowly. The innocence had fled
from her features and the big eyes flashed warningly.
A change had coarsened her like a puff of air on a still
pool. Then, while she stared at him, her lids drooped
dangerously and her lip curled.
72


THE “BRONCO KID'S” E AVESDROPPING
“Throw him out, Bronco," she said, and her tones
held the hardness of a mistress to her slave.
“That's all right," the Kid reassured the lookout.
“She's a better dealer than I am. This is Cherry
Malotte."
Without noticing the stares this evoked, the girl
commenced. Her hands, beautifully soft and white,
flashed over the board. She dealt rapidly, unfalter-
ingly, with the finish of one bred to the cards, handling
chips and coppers with the peculiar mannerisms that
spring from long practice. It was seen that she never
looked at her check-rack, but, when a bet required
paying, picked up a stack without turning her head;
and they saw further that she never reached twice, nor
took a large pile and sized it up against its mate, re-
moving the extra disks, as is the custom. When she
stretched forth her hand she grasped the right num-
ber unerringly. This is considered the acme of pro-
fessional finish, and the Bronco Kid smiled delight-
edly as he saw the wonder spread from the lookout
to the spectators and heard the speech of the men
who stood on chairs and tables for sight of the woman
dealer,
For twenty minutes she continued, until the place
became congested, and never once did the lookout
detect an error.
While she was busy, Glenister entered the front-door
and pushed his way back towards the theatre. He was
worried and distrait, his manner perturbed and unnat-
ural. Silently and without apparent notice he passed
friends who greeted him.
“What ails Glenister to-night?” asked a by-stander.
“He acts funny."
73


THE SPOILERS
"Ain't you heard? Why, the Midas has been jumped.
He's in a bad way-all broke up."
The girl suddenly ceased without finishing the deck,
and arose.
" Don't stop," said the Kid, while a murmur of
dismay came from the spectators. She only shook
her head and drew on her gloves with a show of
ennui.
Gliding through the crowd, she threaded about aim-
lessly, the recipient of many stares though but few
greetings, speaking with no one, a certain dignity serv-
ing her as a barrier even here. She stopped a waiter
and questioned him.
“He's up-stairs in a gallery box.”
“ Alone ?”
“Yes’m. Anyhow, he was a minute ago, unless some
of the rustlers has broke in on him."
A moment later Glenister, watching the scene below,
was aroused from his gloomy absorption by the click
of the box door and the rustle of silken skirts.
“Go out, please,” he said, without turning. “I don't
want company.” Hearing no answer, he began again,
“I came here to be alone"-but there he ceased, for the
girl had come forward and laid her two hot hands upon
his cheeks.
“ Boy," she breathed—and he arose swiftly.
“Cherry! When did you come?"
“Oh, days ago," she said, impatiently, “from Daw-
son. They told me you had struck it. I stood it as
long as I could—then I came to you. Now, tell me
about yourself. Let me see you first, quick!"
She pulled him towards the light and gazed upward,
devouring him hungrily with her great, languorous eyes.
74



HAREM Urare
“WELL," SHE SAID, “KISS ME!"





THE “BRONCO KID'S” E AVESDROPPING
She held to his coat lapels, standing close beside him,
her warm breath beating up into his face.
“Well,” she said, “ kiss me!"
He took her wrists in his and loosed her hold, then
looked down on her gravely and said:
“No-that's all over. I told you so when I left
Dawson."
"All over! Oh no, it isn't, boy. You think so, but
it isn't-it can't be. I love you too much to let you
go."
“Hush!" said he. “There are people in the next
box."
“I don't care! Let them hear," she cried, with
feminine recklessness. “I'm proud of my love for you.
I'll tell it to them-to the whole world.”
“Now, see here, little girl," he said, quietly, “we
had a long talk in Dawson and agreed that it was
best to divide our ways. I was mad over you once,
as a good many other men have been, but I came to
my senses. Nothing could ever result from it, and I
told you so."
“Yes, yes — I know. I thought I could give you
up, but I didn't realize till you had gone how I wanted
you. Oh, it's been a torture to me every day for the
past two years." There was no semblance now to the
cold creature she had appeared upon entering the
gambling - hall. She spoke rapidly, her whole body
tense with emotion, her voice shaken with passion.
“I've seen men and men and men, and they've loved
me, but I never cared for anybody in the world till I
saw you. They ran after me, but you were cold. You
made me come to you. Perhaps that was it. Anyhow,
I can't stand it. I'll give up everything—I'll do any-
75


THE SPOILERS
thing just to be where you are. What do you think of
a woman who will beg? Oh, I've lost my pride I'm
a fool-a fool—but I can't help it."
“I'm sorry you feel this way,” said Glenister. “It
isn't my fault, and it isn't of any use."
For an instant she stood quivering, while the light
died out of her face; then, with a characteristic change,
she smiled till the dimples laughed in her cheeks. She
sank upon a seat beside him and pulled together the
curtains, shutting out the sight below.
“Very well”-then she put his hand to her cheek
and cuddled it. “I'm glad to see you just the same,
and you can't keep me from loving you."
With his other hand he smoothed her hair, while, un-
known to him and beneath her lightness, she shrank
and quivered at his touch like a Barbary steed under
the whip.
“Things are very bad with me," he said. “We've
had our mine jumped.”
“ Bahl You know what to do. You aren't a cripple
-you've got five fingers on your gun hand.”
“ That's it! They all tell me that-all the old-timers;
but I don't know what to do. I thought I did—but I
don't. The law has come into this country and I've
tried to meet it half-way. They jumped us and put
in a receiver-a big man–by the name of McNamara.
Dex wasn't there and I let them do it. When the old
man learned of it he nearly went crazy. We had our
first quarrel. He thought I was afraid~".
“Not he,” said the girl. “I know him and he knows
you."
" That was a week ago. We've hired the best law-
yer in Nome-Bill Wheaton--and we've tried to have
76


THE “BRONCO KID'S” EAVESDROPPING
the injunction removed. We've offered bond in any
sum, but the Judge refuses to accept it. We've argued
for leave to appeal, but he won't give us the right. The
more I look into it the worse it seems, for the court
wasn't convened in accordance with law, we weren't
notified to appear in our own behalf, we weren't al-
lowed a chance to argue our own case-nothing. They
simply slapped on a receiver, and now they refuse to al-
low us redress. From a legal stand-point, it's appalling,
I'm told; but what's to be done? What's the game?
That's the thing. What are they up to? I'm nearly
out of my mind, for it's all my fault. I didn't think it
meant anything like this or I'd have made a fight for
possession and stood them off at least. As it is, my
partner's sore and he's gone to drinking-first time in
twelve years. He says I gave the claim away, and now
it's up to me and the Almighty to get it back. If he
gets full he'll drive a four-horse wagon into some church,
or go up and pick the Judge to pieces with his fingers
to see what makes him go round.”
“What ’ve they got against you and Dextry-some
grudge?” she questioned.
“No, no! We're not the only ones in trouble;
they've jumped the rest of the good mines and put this
McNamara in as receiver on all of them, but that's
small comfort. The Swedes are crazy; they've hired
all the lawyers in town, and are murdering more good
American language than would fill Bering Strait. Dex
is in favor of getting our friends together and throwing
the receiver off. He wants to kill somebody, but, we
can't do that. They've got the soldiers to fall back on.
We've been warned that the troops are instructed to
enforce the court's action. I don't know what the plot
77


THE SPOILERS
is, for I can't believe the old Judge is crooked—the girl
wouldn't let him.”
“Girl?”
Cherry Malotte leaned forward where the light shone
on the young man's worried face.
“The girl? What girl? Who is she?”.
Her voice had lost its lazy caress, her lips had
thinned. Never was a woman's face more eloquent,
mused Glenister as he noted her. Every thought filed
to this window to peer forth, fearful, lustful, hateful,
as the case might be. He had loved to play with her
in the former days, to work upon her passions and
watch the changes, to note her features mirror every
varying emotion from tenderness to flippancy, from
anger to delight, and, at his bidding, to see the pale
cheeks glow with love's fire, the eyes grow heavy, the
dainty lips invite kisses. Cherry was a perfect little
spoiled animal, he reflected, and a very dangerous
one.
“What girl ?" she questioned again, and he knew be-
forehand the look that went with it.
"The girl I intend to marry,” he said, slowly, looking
her between the eyes.
He knew he was cruel-he wanted to bemit satisfied
the clamor and turmoil within him, while he also felt
that the sooner she knew and the colder it left her the
better. He could not note the effect of the remark on
her, however, for, as he spoke, the door of the box
opened and the head of the Bronco Kid appeared, then
retired instantly with apologies.
“Wrong stall,” he said, in his slow voice. “Looking
for another party.” Nevertheless, his eyes had covered
every inch of them-noted the drawn curtains and the
78


THE “BRONCO KID'S” EAVESDROPPING
breathless poise of the woman-while his ears had
caught part of Glenister's speech.
“You won't marry her,” said Cherry, quietly. “I
don't know who she is, but I won't let you marry
her."
She rose and smoothed her skirts.
“It's time nice people were going now.” She said it
with a sneer at herself. “Take me out through this
crowd. I'm living quietly and I don't want these
beasts to follow me.”
As they emerged from the theatre the morning air
was cool and quiet, while the sun was just rising. The
Bronco Kid lighted a cigar as they passed, nodding
silently at their greeting. His eyes followed them,
while his hands were so still that the match burned
through to his fingers—then when they had gone his
teeth met and ground savagely through the tobacco
so that the cigar fell, while he muttered:
“So that's the girl you intend to marry? We'll see,
by God!”


CHAPTER VIII
DEXTRY MAKES A CALL
THE water front had a strong attraction for Helen
| Chester, and rarely did a fair day pass without
finding her in some quiet spot from which she could
watch the shifting life along its edge, the ships at
anchor, and the varied incidents of the surf.
This morning she sat in a dory pulled high up on the
beach, bathed in the bright sunshine, and staring at the
rollers, while lines of concentration wrinkled her brow.
The wind had blown for some days till the ocean beat
heavily across the shallow bar, and now, as it became
quieter, longshoremen were launching their craft, pre-
paring to resume their traffic.
Not until the previous day had the news of her
friends' misfortune come to her, and although she had
heard no hint of fraud, she began to realize that they
were involved in a serious tangle. To the questions
which she anxiously put to her uncle he had replied
that their difficulty arose from a technicality in the
mining laws which another man had been shrewd
enough to profit by. It was a complicated question,
he said, and one requiring time to thrash out to an
eguitable settlement. She had undertaken to remind
him of the service these men had done her, but, with
a smile, he interrupted; he could not allow such things
to influence his judicial attitude, and she must not en-
80


DEXTRY MAKES A CALL
deavor to prejudice him in the discharge of his duty.
Recognizing the justice of this, she had desisted.
For many days the girl had caught scattered talk
between the Judge and McNamara, and between Struve:
and his associates, but it all seemed foreign and dry,
and beyond the fact that it bore on the litigation over
the Anvil Creek mines, she understood nothing and
cared less, particularly as a new interest had but re-
cently come into her life, an interest in the form of a
man-McNamara.
He had begun with quiet, half-concealed admiration
of her, which had rapidly increased until his attentions
had become of a singularly positive and resistless char-
acter.
Judge Stillman was openly delighted, while the court
of one like Alec McNamara could but flatter any girl.
In his presence, Helen felt herself rebelling at his suit,
yet as distance separated them she thought ever more
kindly of it. This state of mind contrasted oddly with
her feelings towards the other man she had met, for in
this country there were but two. When Glenister was
with her she saw his love lying nakedly in his eyes and
it exercised some spell which drew her to him in spite
of herself, but when he had gone, back came the dis-
trust, the terror of the brute she felt was there be-
hind it all. The one appealed to her while present,
the other pled strongest while away. Now she was at-
tempting to analyze her feelings and face the future
squarely, for she realized that her affairs neared a crisis,
and this, too, not a month after meeting the men. She
wondered if she would come to love her uncle's friend.
She did not know. Of the other she was sure she
never could.
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DEXTRY MAKES A CALL
of ranchin' by correspondence school, he is fitted,
ample, to teach us natives a thing or two-and he does
it. I am workin' his outfit as foreman, and it don't
take long to show me that he's a good-hearted feller, in
spite of his ridin'-bloomers an' pinochle eye-glass. He
ain't never had no actual experience, but he's got a
Henry Thompson Seton book that tells him all about
everything from field-mice to gorrillys.
"We're troubled a heap with coyotes them days,
and finally this party sends home for some Rooshian
wolf-hounds. I'm fer pizenin' a sheep carcass, but he
says:
“No, no, me deah man; that's not sportsman-like;
we'll hunt 'em. Ay, hunt 'em! Only fawncy the sport
we'll have, ridin' to hounds!'
“We will not,' says I. 'I ain't goin' to do no Simon
Legree stunts. It ain't man's size. Bein' English, you
don't count, but I'm growed up.'
"Nothin' would do him but those Uncle Tom's Cabin
dogs, however, and he had 'em imported clean from
Berkshire or Sibeery or thereabouts, four of 'em, great,
big, blue ones. They was as handsome and imposin'as
a set of solid-gold teeth, but somehow they didn't seem
to savvy our play none. One day the cook rolled a
rain bar'l down-hill from the kitchen, and when them
blooded critters saw it comin' they throwed down their
tails and tore out like rabbits. After that I couldn't
see no good in 'em with a spy-glass.
"They 'ain't got no grit. What makes you think
they can fight?' I asked one day.
"Fight?' says H’Anglish. “My deah man, they're
full-blooded. Cost seventy pun each. They're dread-
ful creatures when they're roused-they'll tear a wolf
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THE SPOILERS
to pieces like a rag-kill bears-anything. Oh! Rully,
perfectly dreadful!' .
"Well, it wasn't a week later that he went over to
the east line with me to mend a barb wire. I had my
pliers and a hatchet and some staples. About a mile
from the house we jumped up a little brown bear that
scampered off when he seen us, but bein' agin' a bluff
where he couldn't get away, he climbed a cotton-wood.
H’Anglish was simply frothin' with excitement.
“What a misfortune! Neyther gun nor hounds.'
“I'll scratch his back and talk pretty to him,' says
I,‘while you run back and get a Winchester and them
ferocious bull-dogs.
“.Wolf-hounds,' says he, with dignity, 'full-blooded,
seventy pun each. They'll rend the poor beast limb
from limb. I hate to do it, but it 'll be good practice
for them.'
“They may be good renders,' says I, ‘but don't for-
git the gun.'
“Well, I throwed sticks at the critter when he tried
to unclimb the tree, till finally the boss got back with
his dogs. They set up an awful holler when they see
the bear-first one they'd ever smelled, I reckon-and
the little feller crawled up in some forks and watched
things, cautious, while they leaped about, bayin' most
fierce and blood-curdlin'.
“How you goin' to get him down?' says I.
“I'll shoot him in the lower jaw,' says the Britisher,
'so he cawn't bite the dogs. It 'll give 'em cawnfidence.'
“He takes aim at Mr. Bear's chin and misses it three
times runnin', he's that excited.
“Settle down, H’Anglish,' says I. 'He'ain't got no
double chins. How many shells left in your gun?'
84


DEXTRY MAKES A CALL
"When he looks he finds there's only one more, for
he hadn't stopped to fill the magazine, so I cautions
him.
"You're shootin' too low. Raise her.'
“He raised her all right, and caught Mr. Bruin in the
snout. What followed thereafter was most too quick
to notice, for the poor bear let out a bawl, dropped off
his limb into the midst of them ragin', tur’ble, seventy-
pun hounds, an' hugged 'em to death, one after another,
like he was doin' a system of health exercises. He took
'em to his boosum as if he'd just got back off a long
trip, then, droppin' the last one, he made at that
younger son an' put a gold fillin' in his leg. Yes, sir;
most chewed it off. H’Anglish let out a Siberian-wolf
holler hisself, an' I had to step in with the hatchet and
kill the brute though I was most dead from laughin'.
“That's how it is with me an'Glenister," the old man
concluded. “When he gets tired experimentin' with
this new law game of hisn, I'll step in an' do business
on a common-sense basis.”
"You talk as if you wouldn't get fair play," said
Helen.
“We won't,” said he, with conviction. “I look on
all lawyers with suspicion, even to old bald-face--your
uncle, askin' your pardon an' gettin' it, bein' as I'm a
friend an' he ain't no real relation of yours, anyhow.
No, sir; they're all crooked.”
Dextry held the Western distrust of the legal profes-
sion-comprehensive, unreasoning, deep.
"Is the old man all the kin you've got?” he ques-
tioned, when she refused to discuss the matter.
“He is—in a way. I have a brother, or I hope I
have, somewhere. He ran away when we were both
85


THE SPOILERS
little tads and I haven't seen him since. I heard about
him, indirectly, at Skagway-three years ago—during
the big rush to the Klondike, but he has never been
home. When father died, I went to live with Uncle
Arthur—some day, perhaps, I'll find my brother. He's
cruel to hide from me this way, for there are only we
two left and I've loved him always."
She spoke sadly and her mood blended well with the
gloom of her companion, so they stared silently out
over the heaving green waters.
“It's a good thing me an' the kid had a little piece
of money ahead,” Dextry resumed later, reverting to
the thought that lay uppermost in his mind, "'cause
we'd be up against it right if we hadn't. The boy
couldn't have amused himself none with these court
proceedings, because they come high. I call 'em luxu-
ries, like brandied peaches an' silk undershirts.
"I don't trust these Jim Crow banks no more than I
do lawyers, neither. No, sirree! I bought a iron safe
an' hauled it out to the mine. She weighs eighteen
hundred, and we keep our money locked up there.
We've got a feller named Johnson watchin' it now.
Steal it? Well, hardly. They can't bust her open
without a stick of 'giant' which would rouse everybody
in five miles, an' they can't lug her off bodily—she's too
heavy. No; it's safer there than any place I know of.
There ain't no abscondin' cashiers an' all that. To-
morrer I'm goin' back to live on the claim an' watch
this receiver man till the thing's settled.”
When the girl arose to go, he accompanied her up
through the deep sand of the lane-like street to the
main, muddy thoroughfare of the camp. As yet, the
planked and gravelled pavements, which later threaded
86


THE SPOILERS
He moved nonchalantly till he was outside, then with
the speed of a colt ran down the narrow planking be-
tween the buildings, turned parallel to the front street,
leaped from board to board, splashed through puddles
of water till he reached the next alley. Stamping the
mud from his shoes and pulling down his sombrero, he
sauntered out into the main thoroughfare.
Dextry and his companion had crossed to the other
side and were approaching, so the gambler gained a
fair view of them. He searched every inch of the girl's
face and figure, then, as she made to turn her eyes in
his direction, he slouched away. He followed, how-
ever, at a distance, till he saw the man leave her, then
on up to the big hotel he shadowed her. A half-hour
later he was drinking in the Golden Gate bar-room with
an acquaintance who ministered to the mechanical de-
tails behind the hotel counter.
“Who's the girl I saw come in just now?" he in-
quired.
"I guess you mean the Judge's niece."
Both men spoke in the dead, restrained tones that go
with their callings.
“What's her name?".
"Chester, I think. Why? Look good to you,
Kid ?"
Although the other neither spoke nor made sign, the
bartender construed his silence as acquiescence and
continued, with a conscious glance at his own reflection
while he adjusted his diamond scarf-pin: “Well, she
can have me! I've got it fixed to meet her.”
"Bah! I guess not,” said the Kid, suddenly, with
an inflection that startled the other from his preening.
Then, as he went out, the man mused:
88


DEXTRY MAKES A CALL
“Gee! Bronco's got the worst eye in the camp!
Makes me creep when he throws it on me with that
muddy look. He acted like he was jealous."
At noon the next day, as he prepared to go to the
claim, Dextry's partner burst in upon him. Glenister
was dishevelled, and his eyes shone with intense excite-
ment.
“What d' you think they've done now?" he cried, as
greeting.
"I dunno. What is it?”
“They've broken open the safe and taken our
money."
“What !”
The old man in turn was on his feet, the grudge
which he had felt against Glenister in the past few days
forgotten in this common misfortune.
“Yes, by Heaven, they've swiped our money-our
tents, tools, teams, books, hose, and all of our personal
property-everything! They threw Johnson off and
took the whole works. I never heard of such a thing.
I went out to the claim and they wouldn't let me go
near the workings. They've got every mine on Anvil
Creek guarded the same way, and they aren't going to
let us come around even when they clean up. They
told me so this morning.”
“But, look here,” demanded Dextry, sharply, “the
money in that safe belongs to us. That's money we
brought in from the States. The court 'ain't got no
right to it. What kind of a damn law is that?”
"Oh, as to law, they don't pay any attention to it
any more," said Glenister, bitterly. “I made a mis-
take in not killing the first man that set foot on the
let us
so this morn demanded Dex That's money,
89


THE SPOILERS
gamer has left riderstand it The Judge of the receive every
claim. I was a sucker, and now we're up against a stiff
game. The Swedes are in the same fix, too. This last
order has left them groggy."
“I don't understand it yet,” said Dextry.
“Why, it's this way. The Judge has issued what he
calls an order enlarging the powers of the receiver, and
it authorizes McNamara to take possession of every-
thing on the claims—tents, tools, stores, and personal
property of all kinds. It was issued last night without
notice to our side, so Wheaton says, and they served it
this morning early. I went out to see McNamara, and
when I got there I found him in our private tent with
the safe broken open."
"• What does this mean?' I said. And then he
showed me the new order.
“I'm responsible to the court for every penny of this
money,' said he,' and for every tool on the claim. In
view of that I can't allow you to go near the workings.'
"Not go near the workings ?' said I. 'Do you mean
you won't let us see the clean-ups from our own mine?
How do we know we're getting a square deal if we don't
see the gold weighed ?'
"I'm an officer of the court and under bond,' said
he, and the smiling triumph in his eyes made me crazy.
"You're a lying thief,' I said, looking at him square.
'And you're going too far. You played me for a fool
once and made it stick, but it won't work twice.'
“He looked injured and aggrieved and called in
Voorhees, the marshal. I can't grasp the thing at
all; everybody seems to be against us, the Judge, the
marshal, the prosecuting attorney-everybody. Yet
they've done it all according to law, they claim, and
have the soldiers to back them up."
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THE SPOILERS
here, I reckon, is your little French poodle-eh?” in
dicating Stillman.
" What do you mean?” said McNamara, while the
Judge murmured indignantly.
.“ Just what I say. However, that ain't what I want
to talk about. I don't take no stock in such truck as
judges an' lawyers an' orders of court. They ain't in-
tended to be took serious. They're all right for chil-
dren an' Easterners an' non compos mentis people, I
s'pose, but I've always been my own judge, jury, an'
hangman, an' I aim to continue workin' my legislatif,
executif, an' judicial duties to the end of the string.
You look out! My pardner is young an' seems to like
the idee of lettin' somebody else run his business, so
I'm goin' to give him rein and let him amuse himself
for a while with your dinky little writs an' receiverships.
But don't go too far—you can rob the Swedes, 'cause
Swedes ain't entitled to have no money, an' some other
crook would get it if you didn't, but don't play me an’
Glenister fer Scandinavians. It's a mistake. We're
white men, an' I'm apt to come romancin' up here with
one of these an' bust you so you won't hold together
durin' the ceremonies.”
With his last words he made the slightest shifting
movement, only a lifting shrug of the shoulder, yet in
his palm lay a six-shooter. He had slipped it from his
trousers band with the ease of long practice and abso-
lute surety. Judge Stillman gasped and backed against
the desk, but McNamara idly swung his leg as he sat
sidewise on the table. His only sign of interest was a
quickening of the eyes, a fact of which Dextry made
mental note.
“Yes," said the miner, disregarding the alarm of the
92


DEXTRY MAKES A CALL
lawyer, "you can wear this court in your vest-pocket
like a Waterbury, if you want to, but if you don't let
me alone, I'll uncoil its main-spring. That's all."
He replaced his weapon and, turning, walked out the
door.


CHAPTER IX
SLUICB ROBBERS
“W E must have money,” said Glenister a few days
VV later. “When McNamara jumped our safe he
put us down and out. There's no use fighting in this
court any longer, for the Judge won't let us work the
ground ourselves, even if we give bond, and he won't
grant an appeal. He says his orders aren't appealable.
We ought to send Wheaton out to 'Frisco and have
him take the case to the higher courts. Maybe he can
get a writ of supersedeas.”
"I don't rec'nize the name, but if it's as bad as it
sounds it's sure horrible. Ain't there no cure for it?"
"It simply means that the upper court would take
the case away from this one.”
"Well, let's send him out quick. Every day means
ten thousand dollars to us. It'll take him a month to
make the round trip, so I s'pose he ought to leave to-
morrow on the Roanoke.”
“Yes, but where's the money to do it with ? Mc-
Namara has ours. My God! What a mess we're in!
What fools we've been, Dex! There's a conspiracy
here. I'm beginning to see it now that it's too late,
This man is looting our country under color of law.
and figures on gutting all the mines before we can
throw him off. That's his game. He'll work them as
94


SLUICE ROBBERS
hard and as long as he can, and Heaven only knows
what will become of the money. He must have big
men behind him in order to fix a United States judge
this way. Maybe he has the 'Frisco courts corrupted,
too."
“If he has, I'm goin' to kill him,” said Dextry.
“I've worked like a dog all my life, and now that I've
struck pay I don't aim to lose it. If Bill Wheaton
can't win out accordin' to law, I'm goin' to proceed
accordin' to justice."
During the past two days the partners had haunted
the court-room where their lawyer, together with the
counsel for the Scandinavians, had argued and pleaded,
trying every possible professional and unprofessional
artifice in search of relief from the arbitrary rulings of
the court, while hourly they had become more strongly
suspicious of some sinister plot—some hidden, power-
ful understanding back of the Judge and the entire
mechanism of justice. They had fought with the fury
of men who battle for life, and had grown to hate the
lines of Stillman's vacillating face, the bluster of the
district-attorney, and the smirking confidence of the
clerks, for it seemed that they all worked mechanically,
like toys, at the dictates of Alec McNamara. At last,
when they had ceased, beaten and exhausted, they
were too confused with technical phrases to grasp any-
thing except the fact that relief was denied them; that
their claims were to be worked by the receiver; and,
as a crowning defeat, they learned that the Judge would
move his court to St. Michael's and hear no cases until
he returned, a month later.
Meanwhile, McNamara hired every idle man he could
lay hand upon, and ripped the placers open with double
95


THE SPOILERS
shifts. Every day a stream of yellow dust poured into
the bank and was locked in his vaults, while those mine-
owners who attempted to witness the clean-ups were
ejected from their claims. The politician had worked
with incredible swiftness and system, and a fortnight
after landing he had made good his boast to Struve,
and was in charge of every good claim in the district,
the owners were ousted, their appeals argued and de-
nied, and the court gone for thirty days, leaving him
a clear field for his operations. He felt a contempt for
most of his victims, who were slow-witted Swedes,
grasping neither the purport nor the magnitude of his
operation, and as to those litigants who were discern-
ing enough to see its enormity, he trusted to his organi-
zation to thwart them.
The two partners had come to feel that they were
beating against a wall, and had also come squarely to
face the proposition that they were without funds
wherewith to continue their battle. It was madden-
ing for them to think of the daily robbery that they
suffered, for the Midas turned out many ounces of gold
at every shift; and more maddening to realize the re-
ceiver's shrewdness in crippling them by his theft of the
gold in their safe. That had been his crowning stroke.
“We must get money quick," said Glenister. “Do
you think we can borrow?"
"Borrow ?" sniffed Dextry. “Folks don't lend money
in Alaska."
They relapsed into a moody silence.
"I met a feller this mornin' that's workin' on the
Midas,” the old man resumed. “He came in town fer
a pair of gum boots, an' he says they've run into awful
rich ground-so rich that they have to clean up every
96


SLUICE ROBBERS
cessed sly, be thertit." ke Whi
morning when the night shift goes off 'cause the riffles
clog with gold.”
“Think of it!" Glenister growled. “If we had even
a part of one of those clean-ups we could send Wheaton
outside.”
In the midst of his bitterness a thought struck him.
He made as though to speak, then closed his mouth;
but his partner's eyes were on him, filled with a sup-
pressed but growing fire. Dextry lowered his voice
cautiously:
“There'll be twenty thousand dollars in them sluices
to-night at midnight.”
Glenister stared back while his pulse pounded at
something that lay in the other's words.
“It belongs to us,” the young man said. “There
wouldn't be anything wrong about it, would there?".
Dextry sneered. “Wrong! Right! Them is fine
an' soundin' titles in a mess like this. What do they
mean? I tell you, at midnight to-night Alec McNamara
will have twenty thousand dollars of our money—".
"God! What would happen if they caught us?”
whispered the younger, following out his thought.
“They'd never let us get off the claim alive. He
couldn't find a better excuse to shoot us down and get
rid of us. If we came up before this Judge for trial,
we'd go to Sitka for twenty years."
“Sure! But it's our only chance. I'd ruther die
on the Midas in a fair fight than set here bitin' my
hangnails. I'm growin' old and I won't never make
another strike. As to bein' caught -- them's our
chances. I won't be took alive-I promise you that-
and before I go I'll get my satisfy. Castin' things up,
that's about all a man gets in this vale of tears, jest
97


THE SPOILERS
satisfaction of one kind or another. It 'll be a fight in
the open, under the stars, with the clean, wet moss to
lie down on, and not a scrappin'-match of freak phrases
and law-books inside of a stinkin' court-room. The
cards is shuffled and in the box, pardner, and the game
is started. If we're due to win, we'll win. If we're
due to lose, we'll lose. These things is all figgered out
a thousand years back. Come on, boy. Are you
game?"
"Am I game?" Glenister's nostrils dilated and his
voice rose a tone. "Am I game? I'm with you till
the big cash-in, and Lord have mercy on any man that
blocks our game to-night.”
"We'll need another hand to help us,” said Dextry.
“Who can we get?".
At that moment, as though in answer, the door
opened with the scant ceremony that friends of the
frontier are wont to observe, admitting the attenuated,
flapping, dome-crowned figure of Slapjack Simms, and
Dextry fell upon him with the hunger of a wolf.
It was midnight and over the dark walls of the valley
peered a multitude of stars, while away on the southern
horizon there glowed a subdued effulgence as though
from hidden fires beneath the Gold God's caldron, or
as though the phosphorescence of Bering had spread up-
ward into the skies. Although each night grew longer,
it was not yet necessary to light the men at work in
the cuts. There were perhaps two hours in which it
was difficult to see at a distance, but the dawn came
early, hence no provision had been made for torches.
Five minutes before the hour the night-shift boss
lowered the gates in the dam, and, as the rush from the
98


SLUICE ROBBERS
tilistance of Deen expli; The dwework and
nce of a city plained, sat huings of the Midd the
there waste presermidnight a walk the st
sluices subsided, his men quit work and climbed the
bluff to the mess tent. The dwellings of the Midas, as
has already been explained, sat back from the creek at
a distance of a city block, the workings being thus par-
tially hidden under the brow of the steep bank.
It is customary to leave a watchman in the pit during
the noon and midnight hours, not only to see that
strangers preserve a neutral attitude, but also to watch
the waste-gates and water supply. The night man of
the Midas had been warned of his responsibility, and,
knowing that much gold lay in his keeping, was dis-
posed to gaze on the curious-minded with the sourness
of suspicion. Therefore, as a man leading a pack-
horse approached out of the gloom of the creek-trail, his
eyes were on him from the moment he appeared. The
road wound along the gravel of the bars and passed in
proximity to the fumes. However, the wayfarer paid
no attention to them, and the watchman detected an
explanatory weariness in his slow gait.
"Some prospector getting in from a trip,” he thought.
The stranger stopped, scratched a match, and, as he
undertook to light his pipe, the observer caught the
mahogany shine of a negro's face. The match sput-
tered out and then came impatient blasphemy as he
searched for another.
"Evenin', sah! You-all oblige me with a match ?”
He addressed the watcher on the bank above, and,
without waiting a reply, began to climb upward.
No smoker on the trail will deny the luxury of a
light to the most humble, so as the negro gained his
level the man reached forth to accommodate him.
Without warning, the black man leaped forward with
the ferocity of an animal and struck the other a fearful
99


THE SPOILERS
blow. The watchman sank with a faint, startled cry,
and the African dragged him out of sight over the brow
of the bank, where he rapidly tied him hand and foot,
stuffing a gag into his mouth. At the same moment
two other figures rounded the bend below and ap-
proached. They were mounted and leading a third
saddle-horse, as well as other pack-animals. Reaching
the workings, they dismounted. Then began a strange
procedure, for one man clambered upon the sluices and,
with a pick, ripped out the riffles. This was a matter
of only a few seconds; then, seizing a shovel, he trans-
ferred the concentrates which lay in the bottom of the
boxes into canvas sacks which his companion held. As
each bag was filled, it was tied and dumped into the
cut. They treated but four boxes in this way, leaving
the lower two-thirds of the flume untouched, for Anvil
Creek gold is coarse and the heart of the clean-up lies
where it is thrown in. Gathering the sacks together,
they lashed them upon the pack-animals, then mount-
ed the second string of sluices and began as before.
Throughout it all they worked with feverish haste and
in unbroken silence, every moment flashing quick
glances at the figure of the lookout who stood on the
crest above, half dimmed in the shadow of a willow
clump. Judging by their rapidity and sureness, they
were expert miners.
From the tent came the voices of the night shift at
table, and the faint rattle of dishes, while the canvas
walls glowed from the lights within like great fire-flies
hidden in the grass. The foreman, finishing his meal,
appeared at the door of the mess tent, and, pausing to
accustom his eyes to the gloom, peered perfunctorily
towards the creek. The watchman detached himself
IOO


SLUICE ROBBERS
from the shadow, moving out into plain sight, and the
boss turned back. The two men below were now work-
ing on the sluices which lay close under the bank and
were thus hidden from the tent.
McNamara's description of Anvil Creek's riches had
fired Helen Chester with the desire to witness a clean-
up, so they had ridden out from town in time for supper
at the claim. She had not known whither he led her,
only understanding that provision for her entertainment
would be made with the superintendent's wife. Upon
recognizing the Midas, she had endeavored to question
him as to why her friends had been dispossessed, and
he had answered, as it seemed, straight and true.
The ground was in dispute, he said-another man
claimed it—and while the litigation pended he was in
charge for the court, to see that neither party received
injury. He spoke adroitly, and it satisfied her to have
the proposition resolved into such simplicity.
She had come prepared to spend the night and wit-
ness the early morning operation, so the receiver made
the most of his opportunity. He showed her over the
workings, explaining the many things that were strange
to her. Not only was he in himself a fascinating figure
to any woman, but wherever he went men regarded
him deferentially, and nothing affects a woman's judg-
ment more promptly than this obvious sign of power.
He spent the evening with her, talking of his early days
and the things he had done in the West, his story
matching the picturesqueness of her canvas-walled
quarters with their rough furnishings of skins and
blankets. Being a keen observer as well as a finished
raconteur, he had woven a spell of words about the
IOІ


THE SPOILERS
girl, leaving her in a state of tumult and indecision
when at last, towards midnight, he retired to his own
tent. She knew to what end all this was working, and
yet knew not what her answer would be when the ques-
tion came which lay behind it all. At moments she felt
the wonderful attraction of the man, and still there was
some distrust of him which she could not fathom.
Again her thoughts reverted to Glenister, the impetu-
ous, and she compared the two, so similar in some
ways, so utterly opposed in others.
It was when she heard the night shift at their meal
that she threw a silken shawl about her head, stepped
into the cool night, and picked her way down towards
the roar of the creek. “A breath of air and then
to bed,” she thought. She saw the tall figure of the
watchman and made for him. He seemed oddly inter-
ested in her approach, watching her very closely, al-
most as though alarmed. It was doubtless because
there were so few women out here, or possibly on ac-
count of the lateness of the hour. Away with conven-
tions! This was the land of instinct and impulse. She
would talk to him. The man drew his hat more closely
about his face and moved off as she came up. Glen-
ister had been in her thoughts a moment since, and she
now noted that here was another with the same great,
square shoulders and erect head. Then she saw with
a start that this one was a negro. He carried a Win-
chester and seemed to watch her carefully, yet with
indecision.
To express her interest and to break the silence, she
questioned him, but at the sound of her voice he
stepped towards her and spoke roughly.
“What!"
IO2


SLUICE ROBBERS
Then he paused, and stammered in a strangely altered
and unnatural voice:
“Yass'm. I'm the watchman."
She noted two other darkies at work below and was
vaguely surprised, not so much at their presence, as at
the manner in which they moved, for they seemed un-
der stress of some great haste, running hither and yon.
She saw horses standing in the trail and sensed some-
thing indefinably odd and alarming in the air. Turn-
ing to the man, she opened her mouth to speak, when
from the rank grass under her feet came a noise which
set her a-tingle, and at which her suspicions leaped full
to the solution. It was the groan of a man. Again he
gave voice to his pain, and she knew that she stood face
to face with something sinister. Tales of sluice robbers
had come to her, and rumors of the daring raids into
which men were lured by the yellow sheen-and yet this
was incredible. A hundred men lay within sound of her
voice; she could hear their laughter; one was whistling
a popular refrain. A quarter-mile away on every hand
were other camps; a scream from her would bring them
all. Nonsense, this was no sluice robbery—and then
the man in the bushes below moaned for the third
time.
"What is that?" she said.
Without reply the negro lowered the muzzle of his
rifle till it covered her breast and at the same time she:
heard the double click of the hammer.
“Keep still and don't move," he warned. “We're
desperate and we can't take any chances, Miss."
"Oh, you are stealing the gold—”.
She was wildly frightened, yet stood still while the
lookout anxiously divided his attention between her
103


THE SPOILERS
and the tents above until his companions signalled him
that they were through and the horses were loaded,
Then he spoke:
“I don't know what to do with you, but I guess I'll
tie you up."
"What!” she said.
“I'm going to tie and gag you so you can't holler.”
“Oh, don't you dare !” she cried, fiercely. “I'll
stand right here till you've gone and I won't scream.
I promise." She looked up at him appealingly, at
which he dipped his head, so that she caught only a
glimpse of his face, and then backed away.
"All right! Don't try it, because I'll be hidden in
those bushes yonder at the bend and I'll keep you coy-
ered till the others are gone." He leaped down the
bank, ran to the cavalcade, mounted quickly, and
the three lashed their horses into a run, disappear-
ing up the trail around the sharp curve. She heard
the blows of their quirts as they whipped the pack-
horses.
They were long out of sight before the girl moved or
made sound, although she knew that none of the three
had paused at the bend. She only stood and gazed,
for as they galloped off she had heard the scrap of a
broken sentence. It was but one excited word, sound-
ing through the rattle of hoofs-her- own name
“Helen”; and yet because of it she did not voice the
alarm, but rather began to piece together, bit by bit,
the strange points of this adventure. She recalled the
outlines of her captor with a wrinkle of perplexity.
Her fright disappeared entirely, giving place to intense
excitement. “No, no—it can't be—and yet I wonder
if it is !” she cried. “Oh, I wonder if it could be!"
104


SLUICE ROBBERS
She opened her lips to cry aloud, then hesitated. She
started towards the tents, then paused, and for many
moments after the hoof-beats had died out she stayed
undecided. Surely she wished to give the signal, to
force the fierce pursuit. What meant this robbery,
this defiance of the law, of her uncle's edicts and of Mc-
Namara ? They were common thieves, criminals, out-
laws, these men, deserving punishment, and yet she
recalled a darker night, when she herself had sobbed
and quivered with the terrors of pursuit and two men
had shielded her with their bodies.
She turned and sped towards the tents, bursting in
through the canvas door; instantly every man rose to
his feet at sight of her pallid face, her flashing eyes,
and rumpled hair.
"Sluice robbers!” she cried, breathlessly. “Quick!
A hold-up! The watchman is hurt!”.
A roar shook the night air, and the men poured out
past her, while the day shift came tumbling forth from
every quarter in various stages of undress.
“Where? Who did it? Where did they go ?"
McNamara appeared among them, fierce and com-
manding, seeming to grasp the situation intuitively,
without explanation from her.
“Come on, men. We'll run 'em down. Get out the
horses. Quick!”
He was mounted even as he spoke, and others joined
him. Then turning, he waved his long arm up the val-
ley towards the mountains. “Divide into squads of
five and cover the hills! Run down to Discovery,
one of you, and telephone to town for Voorhees and a
posse."
As they made ready to ride away, the girl cried:
105


THE SPOILERS
“Stop! Not that way. They went down the gulch
-three negroes.”
She pointed out of the valley, towards the dim glow
on the southern horizon, and the cavalcade rode away
into the gloom.


THE SPOILERS
paint on my face makes me smell like a minstrel man.
I bet we'll get some bully press notices to-morrow.”
"I wonder what Helen was doing there,” Glenister
answered, irrelevantly, for he had been more shaken by
his encounter with her than at his part in the rest of
the enterprise, and his mind, which should have been
busied with the flight, held nothing but pictures of her
as she stood in the half darkness under the fear of his
Winchester. “What if she ever learned who that black
ruffian was!” He quailed at the thought.
“Say, Dex, I am going to marry that girl."
“I dunno if you be or not,” said Dextry. “Better
watch McNamara.”
“What !” The younger man stopped and stared.
“What do you mean?”.
“Go on. Don't stop the horses. I ain't blind. I
kin put two an' two together.”
“You'll never put those two together. Nonsense!
Why, the man's a rascal. I wouldn't let him have her.
Besides, it couldn't be. She'll find him out. I love
her so much that-oh, my feelings are too big to talk
about.” He moved his hands eloquently. “You can't
understand.”
“Um-m! I s'pose not,” grunted Dextry, but his
eyes were level and held the light of the past.
“He may be a rascal,” the old man continued, after
a little; “I'll put in with you on that; but he's a hand-
some devil, and, as for manners, he makes you look like
a logger. He's a brave man, too. Them three quali-
ties are trump-cards and warranted to take most any
queen in the human deck-red, white, or yellow.".
“If he dares," growled Glenister, while his thick
brows came forward and ugly lines hardened in his face.
το8


THE WIT OF AN ADVENTURESS
In the gray of the early morning they descended the
foot-hills into the wide valley of the Nome River and
filed out across the rolling country to the river bluffs
where, cleverly concealed among the willows, was a
rocker. This they set up, then proceeded to wash the
dirt from the sacks carefully, yet with the utmost
speed, for there was serious danger of discovery. It
was wonderful, this treasure of the richest ground since
the days of '49, and the men worked with shining eyes
and hands a-tremble. The gold was coarse, and many
ragged, yellow lumps, too large to pass through the
screen, rolled in the hopper, while the aprons bellied
with its weight. In the pans which they had pro-
vided there grew a gleaming heap of wet, raw gold.
Shortly, by divergent routes, the partners rode un-
noticed into town, and into the excitement of the hold-
up news, while the tardy still lingered over their break-
fasts. Far out in the roadstead lay the Roanoke, black
smoke pouring from her stack. A tug was returning
from its last trip to her.
Glenister forced his lathered horse down to the beach
and questioned the longshoremen who hung about.
"No; it's too late to get aboard—the last tender is
on its way back," they informed him. “If you want
to go to the 'outside' you'll have to wait for the fleet.
That only means another week, and—there she blows
now."
A ribbon of white mingled with the velvet from the
steamer's funnel and there came a slow, throbbing, fare-
well blast.
Glenister's jaw clicked and squared.
“Quick! You men!” he cried to the sailors. “I
want the lightest dory on the beach and the strongest
109


THE SPOILERS
oarsmen in the crowd. I'll be back in five minutes.
There's a hundred dollars in it for you if we catch that
ship.”
He whirled and spurred up through the mud of the
streets. Bill Wheaton was snoring luxuriously when
wrenched from his bed by a dishevelled man who shook
him into wakefulness and into a portion of his clothes,
with a storm of excited instructions. The lawyer had
neither time nor opportunity for expostulation, for
Glenister snatched a valise and swept into it a litter of
documents from the table.
"Hurry up, man," he yelled, as the lawyer dived
frantically about his office in a rabbit-like hunt for
items. “My Heavens! Are you dead? Wake up!
The ship's leaving.” With sleep still in his eyes Whea-
ton was dragged down the street to the beach, where a
knot had assembled to witness the race. As they
tumbled into the skiff, willing hands ran it out into the
surf on the crest of a roller. A few lifting heaves and
they were over the bar with the men at the oars bend-
ing the white ash at every swing.
"I guess I didn't forget anything,” gasped Wheaton
as he put on his coat. “I got ready yesterday, but I
couldn't find you last night, so I thought the deal was
off.”
Glenister stripped off his coat and, facing the bow,
pushed upon the oars at every stroke, thus adding his
strength to that of the oarsmen. They crept rapidly
out from the beach, eating up the two miles that lay
towards the ship. He urged the men with all his power
till the sweat soaked through their clothes and, under
their clinging shirts, the muscles stood out like iron.
They had covered half the distance when Wheaton
IIO


THE WIT OF AN ADVENTURESS
uttered a cry and Glenister desisted from his work with
a curse. The Roanoke was moving slowly.
The rowers rested, but the young man shouted at
them to begin again, and, seizing a boat-hook, stuck it
into the arms of his coat. He waved this on high while
the men redoubled their efforts. For many moments
they hung in suspense, watching the black hull as it
gathered speed, and then, as they were about to cease
their effort, a puff of steam burst from its whistle and
the next moment a short toot of recognition reached
them. Glenister wiped the moisture from his brow and
grinned at Wheaton.
A quarter of an hour later, as they lay heaving below
the ship's steel sides, he thrust a heavy buckskin sack
into the lawyer's hand.
"There's money to win the fight, Bill. I don't know
how much, but it's enough. God bless you. Hurry
back!”
A sailor cast them a whirling rope, up which Wheaton
clambered; then, tying the gripsack to its end, they
sent it after.
“Important!” the young man yelled at the officer
on the bridge. “Government business.” He heard a
muffled clang in the engine-room, the thrash of the pro-
pellers followed, and the big ship glided past.
As Glenister dragged himself up the beach, upon
landing, Helen Chester called to him, and made room
for him beside her. It had never been necessary to
call him to her side before, and equally unfamiliar was
the abashment, or perhaps physical weariness, that led
the young man to sink back in the warm sand with a
sigh of relief. She noted that, for the first time, the
audacity was gone from his eyes.
III


THE SPOILERS
“I watched your race," she began. “It was very
exciting and I cheered for you."
He smiled quietly.
“What made you keep on after the ship started ? I
should have given up-and cried."
“I never give up anything that I want,” he said.
“Have you never been forced to ? Then it is be-
cause you are a man. Women have to sacrifice a
great deal.”
Helen expected him to continue to the effect that he
would never give her up-it was in accordance with his
earlier presumption-but he was silent; and she was
not sure that she liked him as well thus as when he over-
whelmed her with the boldness of his suit. For Glen-
ister it was delightful, after the perils of the night, to
rest in the calm of her presence and to feel dumbly that
she was near. She saw him secretly caress a fold of
her dress.
If only she had not the memory of that one night on
the ship. “Still, he is trying to make amends in the
best way he can,” she thought. “Though, of course, no
woman could care for a man who would do such a
thing." Yet she thrilled at the thought of how he had
thrust his body between her and danger; how, but for
his quick, insistent action, she would have failed in
escaping from the pest ship, failed in her mission, and
met death on the night of her landing. She owed him
much.
"Did you hear what happened to the good ship
Ohio ?” she asked.
“No; I've been too busy to inquire. I was told the
health officers quarantined her when she arrived, that's
all."
II2


THE WIT OF AN ADVENTURESS
“She was sent to Egg Island with every one aboard.
She has been there more than a month now and may
not get away this summer."
“What a disappointment for the poor devils on her!"
“Yes, and only for what you did, I should be one of
them," Helen remarked.
"I didn't do much,” he said. “The fighting part is
easy. It's not half so hard as to give up your property
and lie still while ".
"Did you do that because I asked you to–because
I asked you to put aside the old ways?” A wave of
compassion swept over her.
“Certainly," he answered. “It didn't come easy,
but-"
“Oh, I thank you," said she. “I know it is all for
the best. Uncle Arthur wouldn't do anything wrong,
and Mr. McNamara is an honorable man.”
He turned towards her to speak, but refrained. He
could not tell her what he felt certain of. She believed
in her own blood and in her uncle's friends-and it was
not for him to speak of McNamara. The rules of the
game sealed his lips.
She was thinking again, “If only you had not acted
as you did.” She longed to help him now in his
trouble as he had helped her, but what could she do?
The law was such a confusing, intricate, perplexing
thing.
"I spent last night at the Midas," she told him,
"and rode back early this morning. That was a dar-
ing hold-up, wasn't it?"
“What hold-up?”
“Why, haven't you heard the news ?"
"No," he answered, steadily. “I just got up."
113


THE SPOILERS
“Your claim was robbed. Three men overcame the
watchman at midnight and cleaned the boxes."
His simulation of excited astonishment was perfect
and he rained a shower of questions upon her. She
noted with approval that he did not look her in the
eye, however. He was not an accomplished liar. Now
McNamara had a countenance of iron. Unconsciously
she made comparison, and the young man at her side
did not lose thereby.
“Yes, I saw it all,” she concluded, after recounting
the details. “The negro wanted to bind me so that I
couldn't give the alarm, tut his chivalry prevented.
He was a most gallant darky."
“What did you do when they left?"
“Why, I kept my word and waited until they were
out of sight, then I roused the camp, and set Mr. Mc-
Namara and his men right after them down the gulch."
"Down the gulch!” spoke Glenister, off his guard.
“Yes, of course. Did you think they went up-
stream?” She was looking squarely at him now, and
be dropped his eyes. “No, the posse started in that
direction, but I put them right." There was an odd
light in her glance, and he felt the blood drumming in
his ears.
She sent them down-stream! So that was why there
had been no pursuit! Then she must suspect-she
must know everything! Glenister was stunned. Again
his love for the girl surged tumultuously within him
and demanded expression. But Miss Chester, no long-
er feeling sure that she had the situation in hand, had
already started to return to the hotel. “I saw the men
distinctly,” she told him, before they separated, “and
I could identify them all.”
114


THE WIT OF AN ADVENTURESS
At his own house Glenister found Dextry removing
the stains of the night's adventure.
"Miss Chester recognized us last night,” he an-
nounced.
“How do you know?”
“She told me so just now, and, what's more, she sent
McNamara and his crowd down the creek instead of
up. That's why we got away so easily.”
"Well, well—ain't she a brick? She's even with us
now. By-the-way, I wonder how much we cleaned up,
anyhow-let's weigh it." Going to the bed, Dextry
turned back the blankets, exposing four moose - skin
sacks, wet and heavy, where he had thrown them.
“There must have been twenty thousand dollars
with what I gave Wheaton,” said Glenister.
At that moment, without warning, the door was
fung open, and as the young man jerked the blankets
into place he whirled, snatched the six-shooter that
Dextry had discarded, and covered the entrance.
"Don't shoot, boy!" cried the new-comer, breathless-
ly. “My, but you're nervous!"
Glenister dropped his gun. It was Cherry Malotte;
and, from her heaving breast and the flying colors in
her cheeks, the men saw she had been running. She
did not give them time to question, but closed and
locked the door while the words came tumbling from
her:
"They're on to you, boys—you'd better duck out
quick. They're on their way up here now."
“What!”
“Who?"
“Quick! I heard McNamara and Voorhees, the
marshal, talking. Somebody has spotted you for the
115


THE SPOILERS
hold-ups. They're on their way now, I tell you. I
sneaked out by the back way and came here through
the mud. Say, but I'm a sight!” She stamped her
trimly booted feet and Airted her skirt.
“I don't savvy what you mean,” said Dextry,
glancing at his partner warningly. “We ain't done
nothin'."
“Well, it's all right then. I took a long chance so
you could make a get-away if you wanted to, because
they've got warrants for you for that sluice robbery
last night. Here they are now." She darted to the
window, the men peering over her shoulder. Coming
up the narrow walk they saw Voorhees, McNamara,
and three others.
The house stood somewhat isolated and well back
on the tundra, so that any one approaching it by the
planking had an unobstructed view of the premises.
Escape was impossible, for the back door led out into
the ankle-deep puddles of the open prairie; and it was
now apparent that a sixth man had made a circuit and
was approaching from the rear.
“My God! They'll search the place,” said Dextry,
and the men looked grimly in each other's faces.
Then in a flash Glenister stripped back the blankets
and seized the “pokes,” leaping into the back room.
In another instant he returned with them and faced
desperately the candid bareness of the little room that
they lived and slept in. Nothing could be hidden; it
was folly to think of it. There was a loft overhead,
he remembered, hopefully, then realized that the pur-
suers would search there first of all.
"I told you he was a hard fighter,” said Dextry, as
the quick footsteps grew louder. “He ain't no fool,
116



“IN AN INSTANT THE FOUR SACKS WERE DROPPED SOFTLY
INTO THE FEATHERY BOTTOM"


THE SPOILERS
hold-ups. They're on their way now, I tell you. I
sneaked out by the back way and came here through
the mud. Say, but I'm a sight!” She stamped her
trimly booted feet and flirted her skirt.
"I don't savvy what you mean," said Dextry,
glancing at his partner warningly. “We ain't done
nothin'."
“Well, it's all right then. I took a long chance so
you could make a get-away if you wanted to, because
they've got warrants for you for that sluice robbery
last night. Here they are now.” She darted to the
window, the men peering over her shoulder. Coming
up the narrow walk they saw Voorhees, McNamara,
and three others.
The house stood somewhat isolated and well back
on the tundra, so that any one approaching it by the
planking had an unobstructed view of the premises.
Escape was impossible, for the back door led out into
the ankle-deep puddles of the open prairie; and it was
now apparent that a sixth man had made a circuit and
was approaching from the rear.
“My God! They'll search the place,” said Dextry,
and the men looked grimly in each other's faces.
Then in a flash Glenister stripped back the blankets
and seized the “pokes,” leaping into the back room.
In another instant he returned with them and faced
desperately the candid bareness of the little room that
they lived and slept in. Nothing could be hidden; it
was folly to think of it. There was a loft overhead,
he remembered, hopefully, then realized that the pur-
suers would search there first of all.
“I told you he was a hard fighter,” said Dextry, as
the quick footsteps grew louder. “He ain't no fool,
116



“IN AN INSTANT THE FOUR SACKS WERE DROPPED SOFTLY
INTO THE FEATHERY BOTTOM”


THE SPOILERS
hold-ups. They're on their way now, I tell you. I
sneaked out by the back way and came here through
the mud. Say, but I'm a sight!" She stamped her
trimly booted feet and Airted her skirt.
“I don't savvy what you mean,” said Dextry,
glancing at his partner warningly. “We ain't done
nothin'."
"Well, it's all right then. I took a long chance so
you could make a get-away if you wanted to, because
they've got warrants for you for that sluice robbery
last night. Here they are now." She darted to the
window, the men peering over her shoulder. Coming
up the narrow walk they saw Voorhees, McNamara,
and three others.
The house stood somewhat isolated and well back
on the tundra, so that any one approaching it by the
planking had an unobstructed view of the premises.
Escape was impossible, for the back door led out into
the ankle-deep puddles of the open prairie; and it was
now apparent that a sixth man had made a circuit and
was approaching from the rear.
“My God! They'll search the place,” said Dextry,
and the men looked grimly in each other's faces.
Then in a flash Glenister stripped back the blankets
and seized the “pokes,” leaping into the back room.
In another instant he returned with them and faced
desperately the candid bareness of the little room that
they lived and slept in. Nothing could be hidden; it
was folly to think of it. There was a loft overhead,
he remembered, hopefully, then realized that the pur-
suers would search there first of all.
"I told you he was a hard fighter," said Dextry, as
the quick footsteps grew louder. “He ain't no fool,
116



SON
“IN AN INSTANT THE FOUR SACKS WERE DROPPED SOFTLY
INTO THE FEATHERY BOTTOM”


THE SPOILERS
uld make a gre for you tor, She darted
hold-ups. They're on their way now, I tell you. I
sneaked out by the back way and came here through
the mud. Say, but I'm a sight!" She stamped her
trimly booted feet and flirted her skirt.
"I don't savvy what you mean,” said Dextry,
glancing at his partner warningly. “We ain't done
nothin',”
"Well, it's all right then. I took a long chance so
you could make a get-away if you wanted to, because
they've got warrants for you for that sluice robbery
last night. Here they are now.” She darted to the
window, the men peering over her shoulder. Coming
up the narrow walk they saw Voorhees, McNamara,
and three others.
The house stood somewhat isolated and well back
on the tundra, so that any one approaching it by the
planking had an unobstructed view of the premises.
Escape was impossible, for the back door led out into
the ankle-deep puddles of the open prairie; and it was
now apparent that a sixth man had made a circuit and
was approaching from the rear.
“My God! They'll search the place,” said Dextry,
and the men looked grimly in each other's faces.
Then in a flash Glenister stripped back the blankets
and seized the “pokes,” leaping into the back room.
In another instant he returned with them and faced
desperately the candid bareness of the little room that
they lived and slept in. Nothing could be hidden; it
was folly to think of it. There was a loft overhead,
he remembered, hopefully, then realized that the pur-
suers would search there first of all.
"I told you he was a hard fighter," said Dextry, as
the quick footsteps grew louder. “He ain't no fool,
now approaching ney'll sealy in eached back
116



NU
“IN AN INSTANT THE FOUR SACKS WERE DROPPED SOFTLY
INTO THE FEATHERY BOTTOM'


THE SPOILERS
hold-ups. They're on their way now, I tell you. I
sneaked out by the back way and came here through
the mud. Say, but I'm a sight!” She stamped her
trimly booted feet and Airted her skirt.
“I don't savvy what you mean,” said Dextry,
glancing at his partner warningly. “We ain't done
nothin'."
"Well, it's all right then. I took a long chance so
you could make a get-away if you wanted to, because
they've got warrants for you for that sluice robbery
last night. Here they are now.” She darted to the
window, the men peering over her shoulder. Coming
up the narrow walk they saw Voorhees, McNamara,
and three others.
The house stood somewhat isolated and well back
on the tundra, so that any one approaching it by the
planking had an unobstructed view of the premises.
Escape was impossible, for the back door led out into
the ankle-deep puddles of the open prairie; and it was
now apparent that a sixth man had made a circuit and
was approaching from the rear.
“My God! They'll search the place,” said Dextry,
and the men looked grimly in each other's faces.
Then in a flash Glenister stripped back the blankets -
and seized the “pokes,” leaping into the back room.
In another instant he returned with them and faced
desperately the candid bareness of the little room that
they lived and slept in. Nothing could be hidden; it
was folly to think of it. There was a loft overhead,
he remembered, hopefully, then realized that the pur-
suers would search there first of all.
"I told you he was a hard fighter,” said Dextry, as
the quick footsteps grew louder. "He ain't no fool,
was approad! They Torimly in eaced back th
116



“IN AN INSTANT THE FOUR SACKS WERE DROPPED SOFTLY
INTO THE FEATHERY BOTTOM


THE SPOILERS
hold-ups. They're on their way now, I tell you. I
sneaked out by the back way and came here through
the mud. Say, but I'm a sight!" She stamped her
trimly booted feet and flirted her skirt.
“I don't savvy what you mean,” said Dextry,
glancing at his partner warningly. “We ain't done
nothin'."
"Well, it's all right then. I took a long chance so
you could make a get-away if you wanted to, because
they've got warrants for you for that sluice robbery
last night. Here they are now." She darted to the
window, the men peering over her shoulder. Coming
up the narrow walk they saw Voorhees, McNamara,
and three others.
The house stood somewhat isolated and well back
on the tundra, so that any one approaching it by the
planking had an unobstructed view of the premises.
Escape was impossible, for the back door led out into
the ankle-deep puddles of the open prairie; and it was
now apparent that a sixth man had made a circuit and
was approaching from the rear.
“My God! They'll search the place,” said Dextry,
and the men looked grimly in each other's faces.
Then in a flash Glenister stripped back the blankets
and seized the “pokes,” leaping into the back room.
In another instant he returned with them and faced
desperately the candid bareness of the little room that
they lived and slept in. Nothing could be hidden; it
was folly to think of it. There was a loft overhead,
he remembered, hopefully, then realized that the pur-
suers would search there first of all.
"I told you he was a hard fighter," said Dextry, as
the quick footsteps grew louder. “He ain't no fool,
p puddle, for thed vieproaching
116



A
A
“IN AN INSTANT THE FOUR SACKS WERE DROPPED SOFTLY
INTO THE FEATHERY BOTTOM”





THE WIT OF AN ADVENTURESS
neither. 'Stead of our bein' caught in the mountains,
I reckon we'll shoot it out here. We should have
cached that gold somewhere.”
He spun the cylinder of his blackened Colt, while his
face grew hard and vulture-like.
Meanwhile, Cherry Malotte watched the hunted look
in Glenister's face grow wilder and then stiffen into the
stubbornness of a man at bay. The posse was at the
door now, knocking. The three inside stood rigid and
strained. Then Glenister tossed his burden on the
bed.
“Go into the back room, Cherry; there's going to be
trouble.”
"Who's there?" inquired Dextry through the door,
to gain time. Suddenly, without a word, the girl glided
to the hot-blast heater, now cold and empty, which
stood in a corner of the room. These stoves, used
widely in the North, are vertical iron cylinders into
which coal is poured from above. She lifted the lid
and peered in to find it a quarter full of dead ashes,
then turned with shining eyes and parted lips to Glen-
ister. He caught the hint, and in an instant the four
sacks were dropped softly into the feathery bottom
and the ashes raked over. The daring manoeuvre was
almost as quick as the flash of woman's wit that
prompted it, and was carried through while the answer
to Dextry's question was still unspoken.
Then Glenister opened the door carelessly and ad-
mitted the group of men.
“We've got a search-warrant to look through your
house,” said Voorhees.
“What are you looking for?"
“Gold-dust from Anvil Creek."
117


THE SPOILERS
"All right-search away.”
They rapidly scoured the premises, covering every
inch, paying no heed to the girl, who watched them
with indifferent eyes, nor to the old man, who glared
at their every movement. Glenister was carelessly
sarcastic, although he kept his right arm free, while
beneath his sang-froid was a thoroughly trained alert-
ness.
McNamara directed the search with a manner wholly
lacking in his former mock courtesy. It was as though
he had been soured by the gall of defeat. The mask
had fallen off now, and his character showed-insistent,
overbearing, cruel. Towards the partners he preserved
a contemptuous silence.
The invaders ransacked thoroughly, while a dozen
times the hearts of Cherry Malotte and her two com-
panions stopped, then lunged onward, as McNamara or
Voorhees approached, then passed the stove. At last
Voorhees lifted the lid and peered into its dark interior.
At the same instant the girl cried out, sharply, Alinging
herself from her position, while the marshal jerked his
head back in time to see her dash upon Dextry.
“Don't! Don't!” She cried her appeal to the old
man. “Keep cool. You'll be sorry, Dex—they're al-
most through."
The officer had not seen any movement on Dextry's
part, but doubtless her quick eye had detected signs of
violence. McNamara emerged, glowering, from the
back room at that moment.
"Let them hunt," the girl was saying, while Dextry
stared dazedly over her head. “They won't find any-
thing. Keep cool and don't act rash.”
Voorhees's duties sat uncomfortably upon him at
don't act They womalle Dextes
118


THE WIT OF AN ADVENTURESS
the best, and, looking at the smouldering eyes of the two
men, he became averse to further search in a powdery
household whose members itched to shoot him in the
back.
"It isn't here,” he reported; but the politician only
scowled, then spoke for the first time directly to the
partners:
“I've got warrants for both of you and I'm tempted
to take you in, but I won't. I'm not through yet,
not by any means. I'll get you-get you both.” He
turned out of the door, followed by the marshal, who
called off his guards, and the group filed back along
the walk.
"Say, you're a jewel, Cherry. You've saved us
twice. You caught Voorhees just in time. My heart
hit my palate when he looked into that stove, but the
next instant I wanted to laugh at Dextry's expres-
sion.”
Impulsively Glenister laid his hands upon her shoul-
ders. At his look and touch her throat swelled, her
bosom heaved, and the silken lids futtered until she
seemed choked by a very flood of sweet womanliness.
She blushed like a little maid and laughed a timid,
broken laugh; then pulling herself together, the merry,
careless tone came into her voice and her cheeks grew
cool and clear.
"You wouldn't trust me at first, eh? Some day
you'll find that your old friends are the best, after all."
And as she left them she added, mockingly:
"Say, you're a pair of 'shine' desperadoes. You
need a governess."


CHAPTER XI
WHERBIN A WRIT AND A RIOT FAIL
RAW, gray day with a driving drizzle from sea-
ward and a leaden rack of clouds drifting low
matched the sullen, fitful mood of Glenister.
During the last month he had chafed and fretted like
an animal in leash for word of Wheaton. This uncer-
tainty, this impotent waiting with folded hands, was
maddening to one of his spirit. He could apply him-
self to po fixed duty, for the sense of his wrong preyed
on him fiercely, and he found himself haunting the
vicinity of the Midas, gazing at it from afar, grasping
hungrily for such scraps of news as chanced to reach
him. McNamara allowed access to none but his min-
ions, so the partners knew but vaguely of what hap-
pened on their property, even though, under fiction of
law, it was being worked for their protection.
No steps regarding a speedy hearing of the case were
allowed, and the collusion between Judge Stillman and
the receiver had become so generally recognized that
there were uneasy mutterings and threats in many
quarters. Yet, although the politician had by now
virtually absorbed all the richest properties in the dis-
trict and worked them through his hirelings, the people
of Nome as a whole did not grasp the full turpitude of
the scheme nor the system's perfect working.
I20


WHEREIN A WRIT AND A RIOT FAIL
Strange to say, Dextry, the fire-eater, had assumed
an Oriental patience quite foreign to his peppery dis-
position, and spent much of his time in the hills pros-
pecting.
On this day, as the clouds broke, about noon, close
down on the angry horizon a drift of smoke appeared,
shortly resolving itself into a steamer. She lay to in
the offing, and through his glasses Glenister saw that it
was the Roanoke. As the hours passed and no boat put
off, he tried to hire a crew, but the longshoremen spat
wisely and shook their heads as they watched the surf.
“There's the devil of an undertow settin' along this
beach," they told him, “and the water's too cold to
drownd in comfortable.” So he laid firm hands upon
his impatience.
Every day meant many dollars to the watcher, and
yet it seemed that nature was resolute in thwarting
him, for that night the wind freshened and daylight
saw the ship hugging the lee of Sledge Island, miles to
the westward, while the surf, white as boiling milk,
boomed and thundered against the shore.
Word had gone through the street that Bill Wheaton
was aboard with a writ, or a subpæna, or an alibi, or
whatever was necessary to put the “kibosh" on Mc-
Namara, so public excitement grew. McNamara hoard-
ed his gold in the Alaska Bank, and it was taken for
granted that there would lie the scene of the struggle.
No one supposed for an instant that the usurper would
part with the treasure peaceably.
On the third morning the ship lay abreast of the
town again and a life-boat was seen to make off from
her, whereupon the idle population streamed towards
the beach,
I21


THE SPOILERS
“She'll make it to the surf all right, but then watch
out."
“We'd better make ready to haul 'em out," said an-
other. “It's mighty dangerous.” And sure enough,
as the skiff came rushing in through the breakers she
was caught.
She had made it past the first line, soaring over the
bar on a foamy roller-crest like a storm-driven gull
winging in towards the land. The wiry figure of Bill
Wheaton crouched in the stern while two sailors fought
with their cars. As they gathered for their rush
through the last zone of froth, a great comber rose out
of the sea behind them, rearing high above their heads.
The crowd at the surf's edge shouted. The boat wav-
ered, sucked back into the ocean's angry maw, and
with a crash the deluge engulfed them. There re-
mained nothing but a swirling flood through which the
life-boat emerged bottom up, amid a tangle of oars,
gratings, and gear.
Men rushed into the water, and the next roller
pounded them back upon the marble-hard sand. There
came the sound of splitting wood, and then a group
swarmed in waist-deep and bore out a dripping figure,
It was a hempen-headed seaman, who shook the water
from his mane and grinned when his breath had come.
A step farther down the beach the by-standers seized
a limp form which the tide rolled to them. It was the
second sailor, his scalp split from a blow of the gun-
wale. Nowhere was Wheaton.
Glenister had plunged to the rescue first, a heaving-
line about his middle, and although buffeted about he
had reached the wreck, only to miss sight of the lawyer
utterly. He had time for but a glance when he was
122


WHEREIN A WRIT AND A RIOT FAIL
the underter surged on. He st
drawn outward by the undertow till the line at his
waist grew taut, then the water surged over him and
he was hurled high up on the beach again. He stag-
gered dizzily back to the struggle, when suddenly a
wave lifted the capsized cutter and righted it, and out
from beneath shot the form of Wheaton, grimly clutch-
ing the life-ropes. They brought him in choking and
breathless.
"I got it,” he said, slapping his streaming breast.
"It's all right, Glenister. I knew what delay meant
so I took a long chance with the surf.” The terrific
ordeal he had undergone had blanched him to the lips,
his legs wabbled uncertainly, and he would have fallen
but for the young man, who thrust an arm about his
waist and led him up into the town.
“I went before the Circuit Court of Appeals in
'Frisco," he explained later, "and they issued orders
allowing an appeal from this court and gave me a writ
of supersedeas directed against old Judge Stillman.
That takes the litigation out of his hands altogether,
and directs McNamara to turn over the Midas and all
the gold he's got. What do you think of that? I did
better than I expected.”
Glenister wrung his hand silently while a great satis-
faction came upon him. At last this waiting was over
and his peaceful yielding to injustice had borne fruit;
had proven the better course after all, as the girl had
prophesied. He could go to her now with clean hands.
The mine was his again. He would lay it at her feet,
telling her once more of his love and the change it was
working in him. He would make her see it, make her
see that beneath the harshness his years in the wild had
given him, his love for her was gentle and true and all-
123


THE SPOILERS
absorbing. He would bid her be patient till she saw
he had mastered himself, till he could come with his
soul in harness.
"I am glad I didn't fight when they jumped us," he
said. “Now we'll get our property back and all the
money they took out—that is, if McNamara hasn't
salted it.”
“Yes; all that's necessary is to file the documents,
then serve the Judge and McNamara. You'll be back
on Anvil Creek to-morrow."
Having placed their documents on record at the
court-house, the two men continued to McNamara's
office. He met them with courtesy.
"I heard you had a narrow escape this morning, Mr.
Wheaton. Too bad! What can I do for you?"
The lawyer rapidly outlined his position and stated
in conclusion:
"I filed certified copies of these orders with the clerk
of the court ten minutes ago, and now I make formal
demand upon you to turn over the Midas to Messrs.
Glenister and Dextry, and also to return all the gold-
dust in your safe-deposit boxes in accordance with this
writ.” He handed his documents to McNamara, who
tossed them on his desk without examination.
“Well,” said the politician, quietly, “I won't do it."
Had he been slapped in the face the attorney would
not have been more astonished.
"Why-you-"
"I won't do it, I said,” McNamara repeated, sharply.
“Don't think for a minute that I haven't gone into this
fight armed for everything. Writs of supersedeas!
Bah!” He snapped his fingers.
"We'll see whether you'll obey or not," said Wheaton;
124


WHEREIN A WRIT AND A RIOT FAIL
and when he and Glenister were outside he contin-
ued :
“Let's get to the Judge quick."
As they neared the Golden Gate Hotel they spied
McNamara entering. It was evident that he had
slipped from the rear door of his office and beaten them
to the judicial ear.
"I don't like that,” said Glenister. “He's up to
something."
So it appeared, for they were fifteen minutes in gain-
ing access to the magistrate and then found McNamara
with him. Both men were astounded at the change
in Stillman's appearance. During the last month his
weak face had shrunk and altered until vacillation was
betrayed in every line, and he had acquired the habit
of furtively watching McNamara's slightest movement.
It seemed that the part he played sat heavily upon
him.
The Judge examined the papers perfunctorily, and,
although his air was deliberate, his fingers made clumsy
work of it. At last he said:
“I regret that I am forced to doubt the authenticity
of these documents.'
"My Heavens, man!" Wheaton cried. “They're
certified copies of orders from your superior court.
They grant the appeal that you have denied us and
take the case out of your hands altogether. Yes—and
they order this man to surrender the mine and every-
thing connected with it. Now, sir, we want you to
enforce these orders."
Stillman glanced at the silent man in the window and
replied:
“You will, of course, proceed regularly and make ap-
125


THE SPOILERS
plication in court in the proper way, but I tell you now
that I won't do anything in the matter."
Wheaton stared at him fixedly until the old man
snapped out:
.
"You say they are certified copies. How do I know
they are? The signatures may all be false. Maybe
you signed them yourself."
The lawyer grew very white at this and stammered
until Glenister drew him out of the room.
"Come, come,” he said, “we'll carry this thing
through in open court. Maybe his nerve will go back
on him then. McNamara has him hypnotized, but he
won't dare refuse to obey the orders of the Circuit Court
of Appeals.”
“He won't, eh? Well, what do you think he's doing
right now?” said Wheaton. “I must think. This is
the boldest game I ever played in. They told me things
while I was in 'Frisco which I couldn't believe, but I guess
they're true. Judges don't disobey the orders of their
courts of appeal unless there is power back of them.”
They proceeded to the attorney's office, but had not
been there long before Slapjack Simms burst in upon
them.
“Hell to pay!” he panted. “McNamara's taking
your dust out of the bank.”
“What's that?" they cried.
“I goes into the bank just now for an assay on some
quartz samples. The assayer is busy, and I walk back
into his room, and while I'm there in trots McNamara
in a hurry. He don't see me, as I'm inside the private
office, and I overhear him tell them to get his dust out
of the vault quick.”
"We've got to stop that,” said Glenister. “If he
126


WHEREIN A WRIT AND A RIOT FAIL
takes ours, he'll take the Swedes', too. Simms, you
run up to the Pioneer Company and tell them about
it. If he gets that gold out of there, nobody knows
what 'll become of it. Come on, Bill.”
He snatched his hat and ran out of the room, fol-
lowed by the others. That the loose-jointed Slapjack
did his work with expedition was evidenced by the
fact that the Swedes were close upon their heels as the
two entered the bank. Others had followed, sensing
something unusual, and the space within the doors
filled rapidly. At the disturbance the clerks suspended
their work, the barred doors of the safe-deposit vault
clanged to, and the cashier laid hand upon the navy
Colt's at his elbow. “What's the matter?” he cried.
“We want Alec McNamara,” said Glenister.
The manager of the bank appeared, and Glenister
spoke to him through the heavy wire netting.
“Is McNamara in there?"
No one had ever known Morehouse to lie. “Yes,
sir." He spoke hesitatingly, in a voice full of the slow
music of Virginia. “He is in here. What of it?".
“We hear he's trying to move that dust of ours and
we won't stand for it. Tell him to come out and not
hide in there like a dog."
At these words the politician appeared beside the
Southerner, and the two conversed softly an instant,
while the impatience of the crowd grew to anger. Some
one cried:
“Let's go in and drag him out," and the rumble at
this was not pleasant. Morehouse raised his hand.
“Gentlemen, Mr. McNamara says he doesn't intend
to take any of the gold away.”
“Then he's taken it already."
127


THE SPOILERS
thought the mone
hen they present. The
“No, he hasn't.”
The receiver's course had been quickly chosen at
the interruption. It was not wise to anger these men
too much. Although he had planned to get the money
into his own possession, he now thought it best to
leave it here for the present. He could come back at
any time when they were off guard and get it. Beyond
the door against which he stood lay three hundred
thousand dollars—weighed, sacked, sealed, and ready
ors the enestod sacker
to move out of the custody of this Virginian whose
confidence he had tried so fruitlessly to gain.
As McNamara looked into the angry eyes of the
lean-faced men beyond the grating, he felt that the
game was growing close, and his blood tingled at the
thought. He had not planned on a resistance so
strong and swift, but he would meet it. He knew that
they hungered for his destruction and that Glenister
was their leader. He saw further that the man's ha-
tred now stared at him openly for the first time. He
knew that back of it was something more than love for
the dull metal over which they wrangled, and then a
thought came to him.
“Some of your work, eh, Glenister ?” he mocked.
“Were you afraid to come alone, or did you wait till
you saw me with a lady?”
At the same instant he opened a door behind him,
revealing Helen Chester. “You'd better not walk out
with me, Miss Chester. This man might—well, you're
safer here, you know. You'll pardon me for leaving
you." He hoped he could incite the young man to
some rash act or word in the presence of the girl, and
counted on the conspicuous heroism of his own posi-
tion, facing the mob single-handed, one against fifty.
128


WHEREIN A WRIT AND A RIOT FAIL
“Come out,” said his enemy, hoarsely, upon whom
the insult and the sight of the girl in the receiver's
company had acted powerfully.
“Of course I'll come out, but I don't want this
young lady to suffer any violence from your friends,"
said McNamara. “I am not armed, but I have the
right to leave here unmolested—the right of an Ameri-
can citizen.” With that he raised his arms above his
head. “Out of my way!” he cried. Morehouse
opened the gate, and McNamara strode through the
mob.
It is a peculiar thing that although under fury of pas-
sion a man may fire even upon the back of a defence-
less foe, yet no one can offer violence to a man whose
arms are raised on high and in whose glance is the level
light of fearlessness. Moreover, it is safer to face a
crowd thus than a single adversary.
McNamara had seen this psychological trick tried
before and now took advantage of it to walk through
the press slowly, eye to eye. He did it theatrically,
for the benefit of the girl, and, as he foresaw, the men
fell away before him—all but Glenister, who blocked
him, gun in hand. It was plain that the persecuted
miner was beside himself with passion. McNamara
came within an arm's-length before pausing. Then he
stopped and the two stared malignantly at each other,
while the girl behind the railing heard her heart pound-
ing in the stillness. Glenister raised his hand uncer-
tainly, then let it fall. He shook his head, and stepped
aside so that the other brushed past and out into the
street.
Wheaton addressed the banker:
“Mr. Morehouse, we've got orders and writs of one
I 29


THE SPOILERS
kind or another from the Circuit Court of Appeals at
'Frisco directing that this money be turned over to us.”
He shoved the papers towards the other. “We're not
in a mood to trifle. That gold 'belongs to us, and we
want it.'
Morehouse looked carefully at the papers.
“I can't help you,” he said. “These documents are
not directed to me. They're issued to Mr. McNamara
and Judge Stillman. If the Circuit Court of Appeals
commands me to deliver it to you I'll do it, but other-
wise I'll have to keep this dust here till it's drawn out
by order of the court that gave it to me. That's the
way it was put in here, and that's the way it'll be taken
copee I'll hay the colete, and th
out.”
“We want it now."
"Well, I can't let my sympathies influence me."
“Then we'll take it out, anyway,” cried Glenister.
"We've had the worst of it everywhere else and we're
sick of it. Come on, men.”
"Stand back! - all of you !” cried Morehouse.
"Don't lay a hand on that gate. Boys, pick your
men."
He called this last to his clerks, at the same instant
whipping from behind the counter a carbine, which he
cocked. The assayer brought into view a shot-gun,
while the cashier and clerks armed themselves. It was
evident that the deposits of the Alaska Bank were
abundantly safeguarded.
“I don't aim to have any trouble with you-all,"con-
tinued the Southerner, “but that money stays here till
it's drawn out right.”
The crowd paused at this show of resistance, but
Glenister railed at them:
130


WHEREIN A WRIT AND A RIOT FAIL
“Come on-come on! What's the matter with you?
And from the light in his eye it was evident that he
would not be balked,
Helen felt that a crisis was come, and braced her-
self. These men were in deadly earnest: the white-
haired banker, his pale helpers, and those grim, quiet
ones outside. There stood brawny, sun-browned men,
with set jaws and frowning faces, and yellow-haired
Scandinavians in whose blue eyes danced the flame of
battle. These had been baffled at every turn, goaded
by repeated failure, and now stood shoulder to shoul-
der in their resistance to a cruel law. Suddenly Helen
heard a command from the street and the quick tramp
of men, while over the heads before her she saw the
glint of rifle barrels. A file of soldiers with fixed bay-
onets thrust themselves roughly through the crowd at
the entrance.
“Clear the room!” commanded the officer.
“What does this mean?" shouted Wheaton.
“It means that Judge Stillman has called upon the
military to guard this gold, that's all. Come, now,
move quick.” The men hesitated, then sullenly obey-
ed, for resistance to the blue of Uncle Sam comes only
at the cost of much consideration.
"They're robbing us with our own soldiers,” said
Wheaton, when they were outside.
“Ay," said Glenister, darkly. “We've tried the law,
but they're forcing us back to first principles. There's
going to be murder here."


CHAPTER XII
COUNTERPLOTS
Off orde pould be mell as led to
LENISTER had said that the Judge would not
I dare to disobey the mandates of the Circuit Court
of Appeals, but he was wrong. Application was made
for orders directing the enforcement of the writs-steps
which would have restored possession of the Midas to
its owners, as well as possession of the treasure in bank
-but Stillman refused to grant them.
Wheaton called a meeting of the Swedes and their
attorneys, advising a junction of forces. Dextry, who
had returned from the mountains, was present. When
they had finished their discussion, he said:
"It seems like I can always fight better when I know
what the other feller's game is. I'm going to spy on
that outfit."
1 “We've had detectives at work for weeks," said the
lawyer for the Scandinavians; “but they can't find
out anything we don't know already."
Dextry said no more, but that night found him
busied in the building adjoining the one wherein Mc-
Namara had his office. He had rented a back room
on the top floor, and with the help of his partner sawed
through the ceiling into the loft and found his way
thence to the roof through a hatchway. Fortunately,
there was but little space between the two buildings,
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COUNTERPLOTS
and, furthermore, each boasted the square fronts com-
mon in mining-camps, which projected high enough to
prevent observation from across the way. Thus he
was enabled, without discovery, to gain the roof adjoin-
ing and to cut through into the loft. He crept cau-
tiously in through the opening, and out upon a floor of
joists sealed on the lower side, then lit a candle, and,
locating McNamara's office, cut a peep-hole so that by
lying flat on the timbers he could command a consider-
able portion of the room beneath. Here, early the fol-
lowing morning, he camped with the patience of an Ind-
ian, emerging in the still of that night stiff, hungry, and
atrociously cross. Meanwhile, there had been another
meeting of the mine-owners, and it had been decided
to send Wheaton, properly armed with affidavits and
transcripts of certain court records, back to San Fran-
cisco on the return trip of the Santa Maria, which had
arrived in port. He was to institute proceedings for
contempt of court, and it was hoped that by extraor-
dinary effort he could gain quick action.
At daybreak Dextry returned to his post, and it was
midnight before he crawled from his hiding-place to
see the lawyer and Glenister.
“They have had a spy on you all day, Wheaton," he
began, "and they know you're going out to the States.
You'll be arrested to-morrow morning before break-
fast."
“Arrested! What for?".
“I don't just remember what the crime is—bigamy,
or mayhem, or attainder of treason, or something
anyway, they'll get you in jail and that's all they want.
They think you're the only lawyer that's wise enough
to cause trouble and the only one they can't bribe.”
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THE SPOILERS
“Lord! What 'll I do? They'll watch every lighter
that leaves the beach, and if they don't catch me that
way, they'll search the ship.”
"I've thought it all out,” said the old man, to whom
obstruction acted as a stimulant.
“Yes, but how?”.
"Leave it to me. Get your things together and be
ready to duck in two hours."
"I tell you they'll search the Santa Maria from
stem to stern,” protested the lawyer, but Dextry had
gone.
“Better do as he says. His schemes are good ones,”
recommended Glenister, and accordingly the lawyer
made preparation.
In the mean time the old prospector had begun at
the end of Front Street to make a systematic search of
the gambling-houses. Although it was very late they
were running noisily, and at last he found the man he
wanted playing “Black Jack," the smell of tar in his
clothes, the lilt of the sea in his boisterous laughter.
Dextry drew him aside.
“Mac, there's only two things about you that's any
good—your silence and your seamanship. Otherwise,
you're a disreppitable, drunken insect.”
The sailor grinned.
“What is it you want now? If it's concerning
money, or business, or the growed-up side of life, run
along and don't disturb the carousals of a sailorman.
If it's a fight, lemme get my hat.”
“I want you to wake up your fireman and have
steam on the tug in an hour, then wait for me below
the bridge. You're chartered for twenty-four hours,
and-remember, not a word.”
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COUNTERPLOTS
“I'm on! Compared to me the Spinks of Egyp' is
as talkative as a phonograph.”
The old man next turned his steps to the Northern
Theatre. The performance was still in progress, and
he located the man he was hunting without difficulty.
Ascending the stairs, he knocked at the door of one
of the boxes and called for Captain Stephens.
“I'm glad I found you, Cap," said he. “It saved
me a trip out to your ship in the dark."
“What's the matter?”
Dextry drew him to an isolated corner. "Me an'
my partner want to send a man to the States with
you.”
"All right."
"Well-er-here's the point,” hesitated the miner,
who rebelled at asking favors. “He's our law sharp, an'
the McNamara outfit is tryin' to put the steel on him.”
“I don't understand.”
"Why, they've swore out a warrant an' aim to
guard the shore to-morrow. We want you to—".
"Mr. Dextry, I'm not looking for trouble. I get
enough in my own business."
“But, see here," argued the other, "we've got to
send him out so he can make a pow-wow to the big
legal smoke in 'Frisco. We've been cold-decked with
a bum judge. They've got us into a corner an' over
the ropes.”
"I'm sorry I can't help you, Dextry, but I got mixed
up in one of your scrapes and that's plenty.”
"This ain't no stowaway. There's no danger to
you," began Dextry, but the officer interrupted him:
“There's no need of arguing. I won't do it."
“Oh, you won't, eh?" said the old man, beginning
135


THE SPOILERS
if I sh Won't ont: I am
to lose his temper. “Well, you listen to me for a min-
ute. Everybody in camp knows that me an' the kid
is on the square an' that we're gettin' the bunk passed
to us. Now, this lawyer party must get away to-night
or these grafters will hitch the horses to him on some
phony charge so he can't get to the upper court. It 'll
be him to the bird-cage for ninety days. He's goin' to
the States, though, an' he's goin'-in-your-wagon!
I'm talkin' to you-man to man. If you don't take
him, I'll go to the health inspector-he's a friend of
mine—an' I'll put a crimp in you an' your steamboat.
I don't want to do that-it ain't my reg'lar graft by
no means—but this bet goes through as she lays. I
never belched up a secret before. No, sir; I am the
human huntin'-case watch, an' I won't open my face
unless you press me. But if I should, you'll see that
it's time for you to hunt a new job. Now, here's my
scheme.” He outlined his directions to the sailor, who
had fallen silent during the warning. When he had
done, Stephens said:
“I never had a man talk to me like that before, sir
-never. You've taken advantage of me, and under
the circumstances I can't refuse. I'll do this thing-
not because of your threat, but because I heard about
your trouble over the Midas—and because I can't help
admiring your blamed insolence." He went back into
his stall.
Dextry returned to Wheaton's office. As he neared
it, he passed a lounging figure in an adjacent door-
way.
“The place is watched," he announced as he entered.
"Have you got a back door? Good! Leave your light
burning and we'll go out that way." They slipped
o hunt
136


COUNTERPLOTS
quietly into an inky, torturus passage which led back
towards Second Street. Floundering through alleys
and over garbage heaps, by circuitous routes, they
reached the bridge, where, in the swift stream beneath,
they saw the lights from Mac's tug.
Steam was up, and when the Captain had let them
aboard Dextry gave him instructions, to which he
nodded acquiescence. They bade the lawyer adieu,
and the little craft slipped its moorings, danced down
the current, across the bar, and was swallowed up in
the darkness to seaward.
"I'll put out Wheaton's light so they'll think he's
gone to bed.”
“Yes, and at daylight I'll take your place in Mc-
Namara's loft,” said Glenister. “There will be doings
to-morrow when they don't find him."
They returned by the way they had come to the
lawyer's room, extinguished his light, went to their
own cabin and to bed. At dawn Glenister arose and
sought his place above McNamara's office.
To lie stretched at length on a single plank with eye
glued to a crack is not a comfortable position, and the
watcher thought the hours of the next day would never
end. As they dragged wearily past, his hones began
to ache beyond endurance, yet owing to the flimsy
structure of the building he dared not move while the
room below was tenanted. In fact, he would not have
stirred had he dared, so intense was his interest in the
scenes being enacted beneath him.
First had come the marshal, who reported his failure
to find Wheaton.
“He left his room some time last night. My men
followed him in and saw a light in his window until
137


THE SPOILERS
two o'clock this morning. At seven o'clock we broke
in and he was gone.”
“He must have got wind of our plan. Send deputies
aboard the Santa Maria; search her from keel to top-
mast, and have them watch the beach close or he'll put
off in a small boat. You look over the passengers that
go aboard yourself. Don't trust any of your men for
that, because he may try to slip through disguised.
He's liable to make up like a woman. You understand-
there's only one ship in port, and-hemustn't get away."
“He won't,” said Voorhees, with conviction, and the
listener overhead smiled grimly to himself, for at that
moment, twenty miles offshore, lay Mac's little tug,
hove to in the track of the outgoing steamship, and in
her tiny cabin sat Bill Wheaton eating breakfast.
As the morning wore by with no news of the lawyer,
McNamara's uneasiness grew. At noon the marshal
returned with a report that the passengers were all
aboard and the ship about to clear.
“By Heavens! He's slipped through you," stormed
the politician.
"No, he hasn't. He may be hidden aboard some-
where among the coal-bunkers, but I think he's still
ashore and aiming to make a quick run just before she
sails. He hasn't left the beach since daylight, that's
sure. I'm going out to the ship now with four men
and search her again. If we don't bring him off you
can bet he's lying out somewhere in town and we'll get
him later. I've stationed men along the shore for two
miles."
"I won't have him get away. If he should reach
'Frisco, Tell your men I'll give five hundred dollars
to the one that finds him.”
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COUNTERPLOTS
Three hours later Voorhees returned.
“She sailed without him.”
The politician cursed. “I don't believe it. He
tricked you. I know he did.”
Glenister grinned into a half-eaten sandwich, then
turned upon his back and lay thus on the plank, identi-
fying the speakers below by their voices.
He kept his post all day. Later in the evening he
heard Struve enter. The man had been drinking.
“So he got away, eh?” he began. “I was afraid he
would. Smart fellow, that Wheaton.”
"He didn't get away," said McNamara. “He's in
town yet. Just let me land him in jail on some excuse!
I'll hold him till snow flies.” Struve sank into a chair
and lit a cigarette with wavering hand.
“This 's a hell of a game, ain't it, Mac? D' you
s'pose we'll win?”.
The man overhead pricked up his ears.
“Win? Aren't we winning? What do you call this?
I only hope we can lay hands on Wheaton. He knows
things. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, but
more is worse. Lord! If only I had a man for judge
in place of Stillman! I don't know why I brought
him.”
"That's right. Too weak. He hasn't got the back-
bone of an angleworm. He ain't half the man that his
niece is. There's a girl for you! Say! What 'd we do
without her, eh? She's a pippin!" Glenister felt a
sudden tightening of every muscle. What right had
that man's liquor-sodden lips to speak so of her?
“She's a brave little woman all right. Just look how
she worked Glenister and his fool partner. It took
nerve to bring in those instructions of yours alone; and
139


THE SPOILERS
if it hadn't been for her we'd never have won like this.
It makes me laugh to think of those two men stowing
her away in their state-room while they slept between
decks with the sheep, and her with the papers in her
bosom all the time. Then, when we got ready to do
business, why, she up and talks them into giving us
possession of their mine without a fight. That's what
I call reciprocating a man's affection."
Glenister's nails cut into his flesh, while his face went
livid at the words. He could not grasp it at once. It
made him sick-physically sick—and for many mo-
ments he strove blindly to beat back the hideous sus-
picion, the horror that the lawyer had aroused. His
was not a doubting disposition, and to him the girl had
seemed as one pure, mysterious, apart, angelically in-
capable of deceit. He had loved her, feeling that some
day she would return his affection without fail. In her
great, unclouded eyes he had found no lurking-place for
double-dealing. Now-God! It couldn't be that all
the time she had known!
He had lost a part of the lawyer's speech, but peered
through his observation-hole again.
McNamara was at the window gazing out into the
dark street, his back towards the lawyer, who lolled in
the chair, babbling garrulously of the girl. Glenister
ground his teeth—a frenzy possessed him to loose his
anger, to rip through the frail ceiling with naked hands
and fall vindictively upon the two men.
“She looked good to me the first time I saw her,"
continued Struve. He paused, and when he spoke
again a change had coarsened his features. “Say, I'm
crazy about her, Mac. I tell you, I'm crazy--and she
likes me.I know she doesor, anyway, she would".
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COUNTERPLOTS
“Do you mean that you're in love with her?" asked
the man at the window, without shifting his position.
It seemed that utter indifference was in his question,
although where the light shone on his hands, tight-
clinched behind his back, they were bloodless.
“Love her? Well—that depends—ha! You know
how it is—"he chuckled, coarsely. His face was gross
and bestial. “I've got the Judge where I want him,
and I'll have her "
His miserable words died with a gurgle, for Mc-
Namara had silently leaped and throttled him where
he sat, pinning him to the wall. Glenister saw the big
politician shift his fingers slightly on Struve's throat
and then drop his left hand to his side, holding his vic-
tim writhing and helpless with his right despite the
man's frantic struggles. McNamara's head was thrust
forward from his shoulders, peering into the lawyer's
face. Struve tore ineffectually at the iron arm which
was squeezing his life out, while for endless minutes the
other leaned his weight against him, his idle hand be-
hind his back, his legs braced like stone columns, as he
watched his victim's struggles abate.
Struve fought and wrenched while his breath caught
in his throat with horrid, sickening sounds, but gradu-
ally his eyes rolled farther and farther back till they
stared out of his blackened visage, straight up towards
the ceiling, towards the hole through which Glenister
peered. His struggles lessened, his chin sagged, and
his tongue protruded, then he sat loose and still. The
politician flung him out into the room so that he fell
limply upon his face, then stood watching him. Finally,
McNamara passed out of the watcher's vision, return-
ing with a water-bucket. With his foot he rolled the
141


THE SPOILERS
unconscious wretch upon his back, then drenched him.
Replacing the pail, he seated himself, lit a cigar, and
watched the return of life into his victim. He made
no move, even to drag him from the pool in which he
lay.
Struve groaned and shuddered, twisted to his side,
and at last sat up weakly. In his eyes there was now
a great terror, while in place of his drunkenness was
only fear and faintness-abject fear of the great bulk
that sat and smoked and stared at him so fishily. He
felt uncertainly of his throat, and groaned again.
“Why did you do that?” he whispered; but the other
made no sign. He tried to rise, but his knees relaxed;
he staggered and fell. At last he gained his feet and
made for the door; then, when his hand was on the
knob, McNamara spoke through his teeth, without re-
moving his cigar.
“Don't ever talk about her again. She is going to
marry me."
When he was alone he looked curiously up at the
ceiling over his head. “The rats are thick in this
shack," he mused. “Seems to me I heard a whole
swarm of them.”
A few moments later a figure crept through the hole
in the roof of the house next door and thence down into
the street. A block ahead was the slow-moving form
of Attorney Struve. Had a stranger met them both
he would not have known which of the two had felt at
his throat the clutch of a strangler, for each was drawn
and haggard and swayed as he went.
Glenister unconsciously turned towards his cabin,
but at leaving the lighted streets the thought of its
darkness and silence made him shudder. Not now!
figure crena thence ving forth
A blocke. Had which of the each we
142


COUNTERPLOTS
He could not bear that stillness and the company of
his thoughts. He dared not be alone. Dextry would
be down-town, undoubtedly, and he, too, must get into
the light and turmoil. He licked his lips and found
that they were cracked and dry.
At rare intervals during the past years he had stag-
gered in from a long march where, for hours, he had
waged a bitter war with cold and hunger, his limbs
clumsy with fatigue, his garments wet and stiff, his
mind slack and sullen. At such extreme seasons he
had felt a consuming thirst, a thirst which burned and
scorched until his very bones cried out feverishly.
Not a thirst for water, nor a thirst which eaten snow
could quench, but a savage yearning of his whole ex-
hausted system for some stimulant, for some coursing
fiery fluid that would burn and strangle. A thirst for
whiskey-for brandy! Remembering these occasional
ferocious desires, he had become charitable to such un-
fortunates as were too weak to withstand similar temp-
tations.
Now with a shock he caught himself in the grip of a
thirst as insistent as though the cold bore down and
the weariness of endless heavy miles wrapped him
about. It was no foolish wish to drown his thoughts
nor to banish the grief that preyed upon him, but only
thirst! Thirst!-a crying, trembling, physical lust to
quench the fires that burned inside. He remembered
that it had been more than a year since he had tasted
whiskey. Now the fever of the past few hours had
parched his every tissue.
As he elbowed in through the crowd at the Northern,
those next him made room at the bar, for they recog.
nized the hunger that peers thus from men's faces.
143


THE SPOILERS
Their mannimself away. This would not stand and
Their manner recalled Glenister to his senses, and he
wrenched himself away. This was not some solitary,
snow-banked road - house. He would not stand and
soak himself, shoulder to shoulder with stevedores and
longshoremen. This was something to be done in se-
cret. He had no pride in it. The man on his right
raised a glass, and the young man strangled a mad-
ness to tear it from his hands. Instead, he hurried
back to the theatre and up to a box, where he drew
the curtains.
“Whiskey!" he said, thickly, to the waiter. “Bring
it to me fast. Don't you hear? Whiskey!"
Across the theatre Cherry Malotte had seen him
enter and jerk the curtains together. She arose and
went to him, entering without ceremony.
“What's the matter, boy?" she questioned.
"Ah! I am glad you came. Talk to me."
“Thank you for your few well-chosen remarks," she
laughed. “Why don't you ask me to spring some good,
original jokes? You look like the finish to a six-day
go-as-you-please. What's up?".
She talked to him for a moment until the waiter
entered; then, when she saw what he bore, she snatched
the glass from the tray and poured the whiskey on the
floor. Glenister was on his feet and had her by the
wrist.
“What do you mean?" he said, roughly.
“It's whiskey, boy,” she cried, "and you don't
drink.”
“Of course it's whiskey. Bring me another," he
shouted at the attendant.
“What's the matter?" Cherry insisted. “I never
saw you act so. You know you don't drink. I won't
144


THE SPOILERS
got us to trust in the law and in her uncle. Yes, she
hypnotized my property out of me and gave it to her
lover, this ward politician. Oh, she's smooth, with all
her innocence! Why, when she smiles she makes you
glad and good and warm, and her eyes are as honest
and clear as a mountain pool, but she's wrong-she's
wrong-and-great God! how I love her!” He dropped
his face into his hands.
When she had pled with him for himself a moment
before Cherry Malotte was genuine and girlish but now
as he spoke thus of the other woman a change came
over her which he was too disturbed to note. She took
on the subtleness that masked her as a rule, and her eyes
were not pleasant.
"I could have told you all that and more."
“More! What more?" he questioned.
"Do you remember when I warned you and Dextry
that they were coming to search your cabin for the
gold? Well, that girl put them on to you. I found it
out afterwards. She keeps the keys to McNamara's
safety vault where your dust lies, and she's the one who
handles the Judge. It isn't McNamara at all.” The
woman lied easily, fluently, and the man believed her.
"Do you remember when they broke into your safe
and took that money?"
“Yes.”
“Well, what made them think you had ten thousand
in there?”
"I don't know."
“I do. Dextry told her.”
Glenister arose. - “That's all I want to hear now.
I'm going crazy. My mind aches, for I've never had a
fight like this before and it hurts. You see, I've been
146


COUNTERPLOTS
an animal all these years. When I wanted to drink, I
drank, and what I wanted, I got, because I've been
strong enough to take it. This is new to me. I'm
going down-stairs now and try to think of something
else—then I'm going home.”
When he had gone she pulled back the curtains, and,
leaning her chin in her hands, with elbows on the ledge,
gazed down upon the crowd. The show was over and
the dance had begun, but she did not see it, for she was
thinking rapidly with the eagerness of one who sees
the end of a long and weary search. She did not notice
the Bronco Kid beckoning to her nor the man with him,
so the gambler brought his friend along and invaded
her box. He introduced the man as Mr. Champian.
"Do you feel like dancing ?” the new-comer inquired.
"No; I'd rather look on. I feel sociable. You're
a society man, Mr. Champian. Don't you know any-
thing of interest? Scandal or the like?”
“Can't say that I do. My wife attends to all that
for the family. But I know there's lots of it. It's
funny to me, the airs some of these people assume up
here, just as though we weren't all equal, north of
Fifty-three. I never heard the like.”
"Anything new and exciting ?” inquired Bronco,
mildly interested.
“The last I heard was about the Judge's niece, Miss
Chester.”
Cherry Malotte turned abruptly, while the Kid slowly
lowered the front legs of his chair to the floor.
“What was it?" she inquired.
“Why, it seems she compromised herself pretty badly
with this fellow Glenister coming up on the steamer last
spring. Mighty brazen, according to my wife. Mrs.
147


THE SPOILERS
Champian was on the same ship and says she was hor-
ribly shocked.”
Ah! Glenister had told her only half the tale,
thought the girl. The truth was baring itself. At that
moment Champian thought she looked the typical creat-
ure of the dance-halls, the crafty, jealous, malevolent
adventuress.
“And the hussy masquerades as a lady,” she sneered.
“She is a lady,” said the Kid. He sat bolt upright
and rigid, and the knuckles of his clinched hands were
very white. In the shadow they did not note that his
dark face was ghastly, nor did he say more except to
bid Champian good-bye when he left, later on. After
the door had closed, however, the Kid arose and
stretched his muscles, not languidly, but as though to
take out the cramp of long tension. He wet his lips, and
his mouth was so dry that the sound caused the girl to
look up.
“What are you grinning at?" Then, as the light
struck his face, she started. “My! How you look!
What ails you? Are you sick?" No one, from Daw-
son down, had seen the Bronco Kid as he looked to-
night.
“No. I'm not sick,” he answered, in a cracked voice.
Then the girl laughed harshly.
“Do you love that girl, too? Why, she's got every
man in town crazy.”
She wrung her hands, which is a bad sign in a capable
person, and as Glenister crossed the floor below in her
sight she said, “Ah-h–I could kill him for that!"
“So could I," said the Kid, and left her without
adieu.


CHAPTER XIII
IN WHICH A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL
COR a long time Cherry Malotte sat quietly think-
Ting, removed by her mental stress to such an in-
finite distance from the music and turmoil beneath that
she was conscious of it only as a formless clamor. She
had tipped a chair back against the door, wedging it
beneath the knob so that she might be saved from in-
terruption, then flung herself into another seat and
stared unseeingly. As she sat thus, and thought, and
schemed, harsh and hateful lines seemed to eat into her
face. Now and then she moaned impatiently, as though
fearing lest the strategy she was plotting might prove
futile; then she would rise and pace her narrow quar-
ters. She was unconscious of time, and had spent per-
haps two hours thus, when amid the buzz of talk in the
next compartment she heard a name which caused her
to start, listen, then drop her preoccupation like a
mantle. A man was speaking of Glenister. Excite-
ment thrilled his voice.
"I never saw anything like it since McMaster's Night
in Virginia City, thirteen years ago. He's right.”.
“Well, perhaps so," the other replied, doubtfully,
" but I don't care to back you. I never staked' a man
in my life.”
"Then lend me the money. I'll pay it back in an
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THE SPOILERS
bour, but for Heaven's sake be quick. I tell you he's
as right as a golden guinea. It's the lucky night of his
life. Why, he turned over the Black Jack game in four
bets. In fifteen minutes more we can't get close
enough to a table to send in our money with a messen-
ger-boy-every sport in camp will be here."
“I'll stake you to fifty," the second man replied, in
a tone that showed a trace of his companion's excite-
ment.
So Glenister was gambling, the girl learned, and
with such luck as to break the Black Jack game and
excite the greed of every gambler in camp. News of
his winnings had gone out into the street, and the sport-
ing men were coming to share his fortune, to fatten like
vultures on the adversity of their fellows. Those who
had no money to stake were borrowing, like the man
next door.
She left her retreat, and, descending the stairs, was
greeted by a strange sight. The dance-hall was empty
of all but the musicians, who blew and fiddled lustily
in vain endeavor to draw from the rapidly swelling
crowd that thronged the gambling-room and stretched
to the door. The press was thickest about a table
midway down the hall. Cherry could see nothing of
what went on there, for men and women stood ten deep
about it and others perched on chairs and tables along
the walls. A roar arose suddenly, followed by utter
silence; then came the clink and rattle of silver. A
moment, and the crowd resumed its laughter and talk.
"All down, boys,” sounded the level voice of the
dealer. “The field or the favorite. He's made eigh-
teen straight passes. Get your money on the line."
There ensued another breathless instant wherein she
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A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL
took is most of that does
heard the thud of dice, then followed the shout of
triumph that told what the spots revealed. The dealer
payed off. Glenister reared himself head and shoulders
above the others and pushed out through the ring to the
roulette-wheel. The rest followed. Behind the circu-
lar table they had quitted, the dealer was putting away
his dice, and there was not a coin in his rack. Mexico
Mullins approached Cherry, and she questioned him.
“He just broke the crap game,” Mullins told her;
“nineteen passes without losing the bones."
“How much did he win?”
“Oh, he didn't win much himself, but it's the people
betting with him that does the damage! They're
gamblers, most of them, and they play the limit. He
took out the Black Jack bank-roll first, $4,000, then
cleaned the 'Tub. By that time the tin horns began
to come in. It's the greatest run I ever see.”
“Did you get in?”
"Now, don't you know that I never play anything
but 'bank'? If he lasts long enough to reach the faro
lay-out, I'll get mine."
The excitement of the crowd began to infect the girl,
even though she looked on from the outside. The ex-
ultant voices, the sudden hush, the tensity of nerve it
all betokened, set her a-thrill. A stranger left the throng
and rushed to the spot where Cherry and Mexico stood
talking. He was small and sandy, with shifting glance
and chinless jaw. His eyes glittered, his teeth shone
ratlike through his dry lips, and his voice was shrill.
He darted towards them like some furtive, frightened
little animal, unnaturally excited.
"I guess that isn't so bad for three bets!” He shook
a sheaf of bank-notes at them,
talking. He was. His eyes and his voice
151


THE SPOILERS
“Why don't you stick?” inquired Mullins.
“I am too wise. Ha! I know when to quit. He
can't win steady—he don't play any system.”
“Then he has a good chance," said the girl.
“There he goes now," the little man cried as the up-
roar arose. “I told you he'd lose.” At the voice of
the multitude he wavered as though affected by some
powerful magnet.
“But he won again,” said Mexico.
“No! Did he? Lord! I quit too soon!"
He scampered back into the other room, only to
return, hesitating, his money tightly clutched.
“Do you s'pose it's safe? I never saw a man bet so
reckless. I guess I'd better quit, eh?” He noted the
sneer on the woman's face, and without waiting a reply
dashed off again. They saw him clamorously fight his
way in towards a post at the roulette-table. “Let me
through! I've got money and I want to play it!"
“Pah!” said Mullins, disgustedly. “He's one of them
Vermont desperadoes that never laid a bet till he was
thirty. If Glenister loses he'll hate him for life.”
“There are plenty of his sort here,” the girl re-
marked; "his soul would fit in a flea - track.” She
spied the Bronco Kid sauntering back towards her and
joined him. He leaned against the wall, watching the
gossamer thread of smoke twist upward from his ciga-
rette, seemingly oblivious to the surroundings, and
showing no hint of the emotion he had displayed two
hours before.
“This is a big killing, isn't it?" said the girl.
The gambler nodded, murmuring indifferently.
“Why aren't you dealing bank? Isn't this your
shift?”
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A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL
“I quit last night."
“Just in time to miss this affair. Lucky for you."
"Yes; I own the place now. Bought it yesterday."
“Good Heavens! Then it's your money he's win-
ning."
"Sure, at the rate of a thousand a minute."
She glanced at the long trail of devastated tables
behind Glenister and his followers. At that instant
the sound told that the miner had won again, and it
dawned upon Cherry that the gambler beside her stood
too quietly, that his hand and voice were too steady,
his glance too cold to be natural. The next moment
approved her instinct.
The musicians, grown tired of their endeavors to lure
back the dancers, determined to join the excitement,
and ceased playing. The leader laid down his violin,
the pianist trailed up the key-board with a departing
twitter and quit his stool. They all crossed the hall,
headed for the crowd, some of them making ready to
bet. As they approached the Bronco Kid, his lips
thinned and slid apart slightly, while out of his heavy-
lidded eyes there flared unreasoning rage. Stepping
forward, he seized the foremost man and spun him
about violently.
"Where are you going ?"
“Why, nobody wants to dance, so we thought we'd
go out front for a bit.”
“Get back, damn you!” It was his first chance to
vent the passion within him. A glance at his mad-
dened features was sufficient for the musicians, and
they did not delay. By the time they had resumed
their duties, however, the curtains of composure had
closed upon the Kid, masking his emotion again; but
153


THE SPOILERS
ins. Toby ins to plato e
from her brief glimpse Cherry Malotte knew that this
man was not of ice, as some supposed. He turned to
her and said, “Do you mean what you said up-stairs?"
“I don't understand."
“You said you could kill Glenister.”
“I could.”
“Don't you love".
"I hate him," she interrupted, hoarsely. He gave
her a mirthless smile, and spying the crap-dealer leav-
ing his bankrupt table, called him over and said:
“Toby, I want you to drive the hearse' when Glen-
ister begins to play faro. I'll deal. Understand ?"
"Sure! Going to give him a little 'work,' eh?”
"I never dealt a crooked card in this camp," ex-
claimed the Kid, “but I'll ‘lay' that man to-night or
I'll kill him! I'll use a ‘sand-tell,' see! And I want
to explain my signals to you. If you miss the signs
you'll queer us both and put the house on the blink.”
He rapidly rehearsed his signals in a jargon which
to a layman would have been unintelligible, illustrating
them by certain almost imperceptible shiftings of the
fingers or changes in the position of his hand, so slight
as to thwart discovery. Through it all the girl stood
by and followed his every word and motion with eager
attention. She needed no explanation of the terms
they used. She knew them all, knew that the “hearse-
driver" was the man who kept the cases, knew all the
code of the “inside life." To her it was all as an open
page, and she memorized more quickly than did Toby
the signs by which the Bronco Kid proposed to signal
what card he had smuggled from the box or held back.
In faro it is customary for the case-keeper to sit on
the opposite side of the table from the dealer, with a
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A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL
device before him resembling an abacus, or Chinese
adding-machine. When a card is removed from the
faro-box by the dealer, the “hearse - driver" moves a
button opposite a corresponding card on his little ma-
chine, in order that the players, at a glance, may tell
what spots have been played or are still in the box.
His duties, though simple, are important, for should
he make an error, and should the position of his count-
ers not tally with the cards in the box on the “last
turn," all bets on the table are declared void. When
honestly dealt, faro is the fairest of all gambling games,
but it is intricate, and may hide much knavery. When
the game is crooked, it is fatal, for out of the ingenuity
of generations of card sharks there have been evolved
a multitude of devices with which to fleece the unsus-
pecting. These are so carefully masked that none but
the initiated may know them, while the freemasonry of
the craft is strong and discovery unusual.
Instead of using a familiar arrangement like the
"needle - tell," wherein an invisible needle pricks the
dealer's thumb, thus signalling the presence of certain
cards, the Bronco Kid had determined to use the
"sand-tell.” In other words, he would employ a
“straight box,” but a deck of cards, certain ones of
which had been roughened or sand-papered slightly, so
that, by pressing more heavily on the top or exposed
card, the one beneath would stick to its neighbor above,
and thus enable him to deal two with one motion if the
occasion demanded. This roughness would likewise
enable him to detect the hidden presence of a marked
card by the faintest scratching sound when he dealt.
In this manipulation it would be necessary, also, to
shave the edges of some of the pasteboards a trifle, so
155


THE SPOILERS
that, when the deck was forced firmly against one side
of the box, there would be exposed a fraction of the
small figure in the left-hand corner of the concealed
cards. Long practice in the art of jugglery lends such
proficiency as to baffle discovery and rob the game of
its uncertainty as surely as the player is robbed of his
money. It is, of course, vital that the confederate
case-keeper be able to interpret the dealer's signs per-
fectly in order to move the sliding ebony disks to cor-
respond, else trouble will accrue at the completion of
the hand when the cases come out wrong.
Having completed his instructions, the proprietor
went forward, and Cherry wormed her way towards
the roulette - wheel. She wished to watch Glenister,
but could not get near him because of the crowd.
The men would not make room for her. Every eye
was glued upon the table as though salvation lurked
in its rows of red and black. They were packed be-
hind it until the croupier had barely room to spin the
ball, and although he forced them back, they pressed
forward again inch by inch, drawn by the song of the
ivory, drunk with its worship, maddened by the breath
of Chance.
Cherry gathered that Glenister was still winning, for
a glimpse of the wheel-rack between the shoulders of
those ahead showed that the checks were nearly out of it.
Plainly it was but a question of minutes, so she
backed out and took her station beside the faro-table
where the Bronco Kid was dealing. His face wore its
colorless mask of indifference; his long white hands
moved slowly with the certainty that betokened abso-
lute mastery of his art. He was waiting. The ex-
crap dealer was keeping cases.
se of the ed that the gestion of de the fa
156


A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL
The group left the roulette-table in a few moments
and surrounded her, Glenister among the others. He
was not the man she knew. In place of the dreary
hopelessness with which he had left her, his face was
flushed and reckless, his collar was open, showing the
base of his great, corded neck, while the lust of the game
had coarsened him till he was again the violent, un-
tamed, primitive man of the frontier. His self-restraint
and dignity were gone. He had tried the new ways,
and they were not for him. He slipped back, and the
past swallowed him.
After leaving Cherry he had sought some mental
relief by idly risking the silver in his pocket. He had
let the coins lie and double, then double again and
again. He had been indifferent whether he won or
lost, so assumed a reckless disregard for the laws of
probability, thinking that he would shortly lose the
money he had won and then go home. He did not
want it. When his luck remained the same, he raised
the stakes, but it did not change—he could not lose.
Before he realized it, other men were betting with him,
animated purely by greed and craze of the sport.
First one, then another joined till game after game was
closed, and each moment the crowd had grown in size
and enthusiasm so that its fever crept into him, imper-
ceptibly at first, but ever increasing, till the mania
mastered him.
He paid no attention to Cherry as he took his seat.
He had eyes for nothing but the “lay-out.” She clenched
her hands and prayed for his ruin.
“What's your limit, Kid ?” he inquired.
“One hundred, and two," the Kid answered, which
in the vernacular means that any sum up to $200 may
157


THE SPOILERS
be laid on one card save only on the last turn, when the
amount is lessened by half.
Without more ado they commenced. The Kid han-
dled his cards smoothly, surely, paying and taking bets
with machine-like calm. The on-lookers ceased talking
and prepared to watch, for now came the crucial test
of the evening. Faro is to other games as war is to
jackstraws.
For a time Glenister won steadily till there came a
moment when many stacks of chips lay on the deuce.
Cherry saw the Kid "Aash” to the case-keeper, and
the next moment he had “pulled two." The deuce
lost. It was his first substantial gain, and the players
paid no attention. At the end of half an hour the
winnings were slightly in favor of the “house.” Then
Glenister said, “This is too slow. I want action."
"All right,” smiled the proprietor. “We'll double
the limit."
Thus it became possible to wager $400 on a card,
and the Kid began really to play. Glenister now lost
steadily, not in large amounts, but with tantalizing
regularity. Cherry had never seen cards played like
this. The gambler was a revelation to her—his work
was wonderful. I11 luck seemed to fan the crowd's
eagerness, while, to add to its impatience, the cases
came wrong twice in succession, so that those who
would have bet heavily upon the last turn had their
money given back. Cherry saw the confusion of the
"hearse-driver" even quicker than did Bronco. Toby
was growing rattled. The dealer's work was too fast
for him, and yet he could offer no signal of distress for
fear of annihilation at the hands of those crowded close
to his shoulder. In the same way the owner of the
158


A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL
game could make no objection to his helper's incom-
petence for fear that some by-stander would volunteer
to fill the man's part—there were many present capa-
ble of the trick. He could only glare balefully across
the table at his unfortunate confederate.
They had not gone far on the next game before
Cherry's quick eye detected a sign which the man mis-
interpreted. She addressed him, quietly, “You'd bet-
ter brush up your plumes.”
In spite of his anger the Bronco Kid smiled. Humor
in him was strangely withered and distorted, yet here
was a thrust he would always remember and recount
with glee in years to come. He feared there were other
faro-dealers present who might understand the hint,
but there was none save Mexico Mullins, whose face
was a study-mirth seemed to be strangling him. A
moment later the girl spoke to the case-keeper again.
“Let me take your place; your reins are unbuckled."
Toby glanced inquiringly at the Kid, who caught
Cherry's reassuring look and nodded, so he arose and
the girl slid into the vacant chair. This woman would
make no errors—the dealer knew that; her keen wits
were sharpened by hate--it showed in her face. If
Glenister escaped destruction to-night it would be be-
cause human means could not accomplish his down-
fall.
In the mind of the new case-keeper there was but
one thought-Roy must be broken. Humiliation, dis-
grace, ruin, ridicule were to be his. If he should be
downed, discredited, and discouraged, then, perhaps,
he would turn to her as he had in the by-gone days.
He was slipping away from her—this was her last
chance. She began her duties easily, and her alertness
159


THE SPOILERS
witched.ore beneath hi acute and I
mphant mit is He"
stimulated Bronco till his senses, too, grew sharper,
his observation more acute and lightning-like. Glen-
ister swore beneath his breath that the cards were be-
witched. He was like a drunken man, now as truly
intoxicated as though the fumes of wine had befogged
his brain. He swayed in his seat, the veins of his neck
thickened and throbbed, his features were congested.
After a while he spoke.
"I want a bigger limit. Is this some boy's game?
Throw her open.”
The gambler shot a triumphant glance at the girl
and acquiesced. “All right, the limit is the blue sky.
Pile your checks to the roof-pole.” He began to
shuffle.
Within the crowded circle the air was hot and fetid
with the breath of men. The sweat trickled down
Glenister's brown skin, dripping from his jaw unno-
ticed. He arose and ripped off his coat, while those
standing behind shifted and scuffed their feet impa-
tiently. Besides Roy, there were but three men play-
ing. They were the ones who had won heaviest at
first. Now that luck was against them they were
loath to quit.
Cherry was annoyed by stertorous breathing at
her shoulder, and glanced back to find the little man
who had been so excited earlier in the evening. His
mouth was agape, his eyes wide, the muscles about his
lips twitching. He had lost back, long since, the hun-
dreds he had won and more besides. She searched the
figures walling her about and saw no women. They
had been crowded out long since. It seemed as though
the table formed the bottom of a sloping pit of human
faces-eager, tense, staring. It was well she was here,
more Besicher long hiales at
d been alling on andad lost wide, that the the littring at
160


THE SPOILERS
the distant jangle of the orchestra. The lookout sat
far forward upon his perch, his hands upon his knees,
his eyes frozen to the board, a dead cigar clenched
between his teeth. Crowded upon his platform were
miners tense and motionless as statues. When a man
spoke or coughed, a score of eyes stared at him accus-
ingly, then dropped to the table again.
Glenister took from his clothes a bundle of bank-
notes, so thick that it required his two hands to com-
pass it. On-lookers saw that the bills were mainly yel-
low. No one spoke while he counted them rapidly,
glanced at the dealer, who nodded, then slid them for-
ward till they rested on the king. He placed a “copper”
on the pile. A great sigh of indrawn breaths swept
through the crowd. The North had never known a
bet like this—it meant a fortune. Here was a tale for
one's grandchildren—that a man should win opulence
in an evening, then lose it in one deal. This final bet
represented more than many of them had ever seen at
one time before. Its fate lay on a single card.
Cherry Malotte's fingers were like ice and shook till
the buttons of her case-keeper rattled, her heart raced
till she could not breathe, while something rose up and
choked her. If Glenister won this bet he would quit;
she felt it. If he lost, ah! what could the Kid there
feel, the man who was playing for a paltry vengeance,
compared to her whose hope of happiness, of love, of
life hinged on this wager?
Evidently the Bronco Kid knew what card lay next
below, for he offered her no sign, and as Glenister
leaned back he slowly and firmly pushed the top card
out of the box. Although this was the biggest turn of
his life, he betrayed no tremor. His gesture displayed
162


A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL
the nine of diamonds, and the crowd breathed heavily.
The king had not won. Would it lose ? Every gaze
was welded to the tiny nickelled box. If the face-card
lay next beneath the nine-spot, the heaviest wager in
Alaska would have been lost; if it still remained hid-
den on the next turn, the money would be safe for a
moment.
Slowly the white hand of the dealer moved back;
his middle finger touched the nine of diamonds; it slid
smoothly out of the box, and there in its place frowned
the king of clubs. At last the silence was broken.
Men spoke, some laughed, but in their laughter was
no mirth. It was more like the sound of choking.
They stamped their feet to relieve the grip of strained
muscles. The dealer reached forth and slid the stack
of bills into the drawer at his waist without counting.
The case-keeper passed a shaking hand over her face,
and when it came away she saw blood on her fingers
where she had sunk her teeth into her lower lip. Glen-
ister did not rise. He sat, heavy-browed and sullen,
his jaw thrust forward, his hair low upon his forehead,
his eyes bloodshot and dead.
"I'll sit the hand out if you'll let me bet the 'fin-
ger,'" said he.
“Certainly,” replied the dealer.
When a man requests this privilege it means that he
will call the amount of his wager without producing
the visible stakes, and the dealer may accept or refuse
according to his judgment of the bettor's responsibility.
It is safe, for no man shirks a gambling debt in the
North, and thousands may go with a nod of the head
though never a cent be on the board.
There were still a few cards in the box, and the dealer
163


THE SPOILERS
deale her, in which cards of likanal pair, thuse-players",
turned them, paying the three men who played. Glen-
ister took no part, but sat bulked over his end of the
table glowering from beneath his shock of hair.
Cherry was deathly tired. The strain of the last
hour had been so intense that she could barely sit in
her seat, yet she was determined to finish the hand.
As Bronco paused before the last turn, many of the
by-standers made bets. They were the “case-players”
who risked money only on the final pair, thus avoiding
the chance of two cards of like denomination coming
together, in which event (“splits” it is called) the
dealer takes half the money. The stakes were laid
at last and the deal about to start when Glenister
spoke. “Wait! What's this place worth, Bronco ?"
“What do you mean?”.
"You own this outfit?" He waved his hand about
the room. “Well, what does it stand you?"
The gambler hesitated an instant while the crowd
pricked up its ears, and the girl turned wondering,
troubled eyes upon the miner. What would he do
now?
“Counting bank rolls, fixtures, and all, about a hun-
dred and twenty thousand dollars. Why?”
“I'll pick the ace to lose, my one-half interest in the
Midas against your whole damned lay-out!”
There was an absolute hush while the realization of
this offer smote the on-lookers. It took time to realize
it. This man was insane. There were three cards to
choose from-one would win, one would lose, and one
would have no action.
Of all those present only Cherry Malotte divined
even vaguely the real reason which prompted the man
to do this. It was not “gameness," nor altogether a
164


A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL ,
brutish stubbornness which would not let him quit.
It was something deeper. He was desolate and his
heart was gone. Helen was lost to him—worse yet,
was unworthy, and she was all he cared for. What did
he want of the Midas with its lawsuits, its intrigues,
and its trickery? He was sick of it all of the whole
game--and wanted to get away. If he won, very well.
If he lost, the land of the Aurora would know him no
more.
When he put his proposition; the Bronco Kid drop-
ped his eyes as though debating. The girl saw that he
studied the cards in his box intently and that his fin-
gers caressed the top one ever so softly during the
instant the eyes of the rest were on Glenister. The
dealer looked up at last, and Cherry saw the gleam of
triumph in his eye; he could not mask it from her,
though his answering words were hesitating. She knew
by the look that Glenister was a pauper.
"Come on," insisted Roy, hoarsely. "Turn the
cards."
“You're on!”
The girl felt that she was fainting. She wanted to
scream. The triumph of this moment stifled her-or
was it triumph, after all? She heard the breath of the
little man behind her rattle as though he were being
throttled, and saw the lookout pass a shaking hand to
his chin, then wet his parched lips. She saw the man
she had helped to ruin bend forward, his lean face
strained and hard, an odd look of pain and weariness
in his eyes. She never forgot that look. The crowd
was frozen in various attitudes of eagerness, although
it had not yet recovered from the suspense of the last
great wager. It knew the Midas and what it meant.
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althouer
das ans pense


THE SPOILERS
Here lay half of it, hidden beneath a tawdry square of
pasteboard. With maddening deliberation the Kid
dealt the top card. Beneath it was the trey of spades.
Glenister said no word nor made a move. Some one
coughed, and it sounded like a gunshot. Slowly the
dealer's fingers retraced their way. He hesitated pur-
posely and leered at the girl, then the three-spot dis-
appeared and beneath it lay the ace as the king had
lain on that other wager. It spelled utter ruin to
Glenister. He raised his eyes blindly, and then the
deathlike silence of the room was shattered by a sud-
den crash. Cherry Malotte had closed her check-rack
violently, at the same instant crying shrill and clear:
“That bet is off! The cases are wrong!"
Glenister half rose, overturning his chair; the Kid
lunged forward across the table, and his wonderful
hands, tense and talon-like, thrust themselves forward
as though reaching for the riches she had snatched
away. They worked and writhed and trembled as
though in dumb fury, the nails sinking into the oil-
cloth table-cover. His face grew livid and cruel, while
his eyes blazed at her till she shrank from him affright-
edly, bracing herself away from the table with rigid
arms.
Reason came slowly back to Glenister, and under-
standing with it. He seemed to awake from a night-
mare. He could read all too plainly the gambler's
look of baffled hate as the man sprawled on the table,
his arms spread wide, his eyes glaring at the cowering
woman, who shrank before him like a rabbit before a
snake. She tried to speak, but choked. Then the
dealer came to himself, and cried harshly through his
teeth one word:
166


CHAPTER XIV
A MIDNIGHT MESSENGER
“M Y dear Helen, don't you realize that my official
IVI position carries with it a certain social obliga-
tion which it is our duty to discharge ?"
“I suppose so, Uncle Arthur; but I would much
rather stay at home.”
“Tut, tut! Go and have a good time."
“Dancing doesn't appeal to me any more. I left
that sort of thing back home. Now, if you would only
come along—"
"No—I'm too busy. I must work to-night, and
I'm not in a mood for such things, anyhow."
"You're not well,” his niece said. “I have noticed
it for weeks. Is it hard work or are you truly ill ?
You're nervous; you don't eat; you're growing posi-
tively gaunt. Why-you're getting wrinkles like an
old man.” She rose from her seat at the breakfast-
table and went to him, smoothing his silvered head
with affection.
He took her cool hand and pressed it to his cheek,
while the worry that haunted him habitually of late
gave way to a smile.
"It's work, little girl_hard and thankless work,
that's all. This country is intended for young men,
and I'm too far along." His eyes grew grave again,
168


A MIDNIGHT MESSENGER
and he squeezed her fingers nervously as though at the
thought. “It's a terrible country-this- I-I-
wish we had never seen it.”
“Don't say that,” Helen cried, spiritedly. “Why,
it's glorious. Think of the honor. You're a United
States judge and the first one to come here. You're
making history—you're building a State-people will
read about you.” She stooped and kissed him; but
he seemed to flinch beneath her caress.
“Of course I'll go if you think I'd better," she said,
"though I'm not fond of Alaskan society. Some of
the women are nice, but the others—” She shrugged
her dainty shoulders. “They talk scandal all the time.
One would think that a great, clean, fresh, vigorous
country like this would broaden the women as it broad-
ens the men-but it doesn't.”
"I'll tell McNamara to call for you at nine o'clock,"
said the Judge as he arose. So, later in the day she
prepared her long unused finery to such good purpose
that when her escort called for her that evening he
believed her the loveliest of women.
Upon their arrival at the hotel he regarded her with
a fresh access of pride, for the function proved to bear
little resemblance to a mining-camp party. The women
wore handsome gowns, and every man was in evening
dress. The wide hall ran the length of the hotel and
was flanked with boxes, while its floor was like polished
glass and its walls effectively decorated.
"Oh, how lovely!” exclaimed Helen as she first
caught sight of it. “It's just like home.”
“I've seen quick-rising cities before,” he said, “but
nothing like this. Still, if these Northerners can build
a railroad in a month and a city in a summer, why
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THE SPOILERS
shouldn't they have symphony orchestras and Louis
Quinze ballrooms?".
“I know you're a splendid dancer,” she said.
“You shall be my judge and jury. I'll sign this
card as often as I dare without the certainty of violence
at the hands of these young men, and the rest of the
time I'll smoke in the lobby. I don't care to dance
with any one but you."
After the first waltz he left her surrounded by part-
ners and made his way out of the ballroom. This was
his first relaxation since landing in the North. It was
well not to become a dull boy, he mused, and as he
chewed his cigar he pictured with an odd thrill, quite
unusual with him, that slender, gray-eyed girl, with
her coiled mass of hair, her ivory shoulders, and merry
smile. He saw her float past to the measure of a two-
step, and caught himself resenting the thought of an-
other man's enjoyment of the girl's charms even for
an instant.
“Hold on, Alec,” he muttered. “You're too old a
bird to lose your head.” However, he was waiting for
her before the time for their next dance. She seemed
to have lost a part of her gayety.
“What's the matter? Aren't you enjoying your-
self?”
"Oh, yes!” she returned, brightly. “I'm having a
delightful time.”
When he came for his third dance, she was more
distraite than ever. As he led her to a seat they
passed a group of women, among whom were Mrs.
Champian and others whom he knew to be wives of
men prominent in the town. He had seen some of
them at tea in Judge Stillman's house, and therefore
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THE SPOILERS
speak to the girl. She cut her dead, and I want to
know what it's about.”.
“How should I know?"
“If you don't know, I'll ask you to find out."
The other shook his head amusedly, at which Mc-
Namara flared up.
"I say you will, and you'll make your wife apologize
before she leaves this hall, too, or you'll answer to me,
man to man. I won't stand to have a girl like Miss
Chester cold-decked by a bunch of mining-camp swells,
and that goes as it lies.” In his excitement, McNamara
reverted to his Western idiom.
The other did not reply at once, for it is embarrass-
ing to deal with a person who disregards the conven-
tions utterly, and at the same time has the inclination
and force to compel obedience. The boss's reputation
had gone abroad.
“Well-er-I know about it in a general way, but
of course I don't go much on such things. You'd bet-
ter let it drop.”
“Go on.”
“There has been a lot of talk among the ladies
about-well, er-the fact is, it's that young Glenister.
Mrs. Champian had the next state-room to them-er-
him-I should say—on the way up from the States,
and she saw things. Now, as far as I'm concerned, a
girl can do what she pleases, but Mrs. Champian has
her own ideas of propriety. From what my wife could
learn, there's some truth in the story, too, so you can't
blame her.”
With a word McNamara could have explained the
gossip and made this man put his wife right, forcing
through her an elucidation of the silly affair in such a
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A MIDNIGHT MESSENGER
way as to spare Helen's feelings and cover the busy-
tongued magpies with confusion. Yet he hesitated.
It is a wise skipper who trims his sails to every breeze.
He thanked his informant and left him. Entering the
lobby, he saw the girl hurrying towards him.
“Take me away, quick! I want to go home.”
“You've changed your mind ?".
“Yes, let us go," she panted, and when they were
outside she walked so rapidly that he had difficulty in
keeping pace with her. She was silent, and he knew
better than to question, but when they arrived at her
house he entered, took off his overcoat, and turned up
the light in the tiny parlor. She flung her wraps over
a chair, storming back and forth like a little fury.
Her eyes were starry with tears of anger, her face was
flushed, her hands worked nervously. He leaned
against the mantel, watching her through his cigar
smoke.
“You needn't tell me," he said, at length. “I know
all about it."
"I am glad you do. I never could repeat what they
said. Oh, it was brutal!” Her voice caught and she
bit her lip. “What made me ask them? Why didn't
I keep still? After you left, I went to those women
and faced them. Oh, but they were brutal! Yet, why
should I care?” She stamped her slippered foot.
"I shall have to kill that man some day," he said,
flecking his cigar ashes into the grate.
“What man ?" She stood still and looked at him.
“Glenister, of course. If I had thought the story
would ever reach you, I'd have shut him up long
ago."
"It didn't come from him," she cried, hot with in-
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THE SPOILERS
dignation. “He's a gentleman. It's that cat, Mrs.
Champian."
He shrugged his shoulders the slightest bit, but it
was eloquent, and she noted it. “Oh, I don't mean
that he did it intentionally—he's too decent a chap for
that—but anybody's tongue will wag to a beautiful
girl! My lady Malotte is a jealous trick."
"Malotte! Who is she?" Helen questioned, curi-
ously.
He seemed surprised. “I thought every one knew
who she is. It's just as well that you don't.”
“I am sure Mr. Glenister would not talk of me."
There was a pause. “Who is Miss Malotte?”
He studied for a moment, while she watched him.
What a splendid figure he made in his evening clothes!
The cosey room with its shaded lights enhanced his size
and strength and rugged outlines. In his eyes was that
admiration which women live for. He lifted his bold,
handsome face and met her gaze.
“I had rather leave that for you to find out, for I'm
not much at scandal. I have something more impor-
tant to tell you. It's the most important thing I have
ever said to you, Helen.” It was the first time he had
used that name, and she began to tremble, while her
eyes sought the door in a panic. She had expected
this moment, and yet was not ready.
“Not to-night-don't say it now," she managed to
articulate.
“Yes, this is a good time. If you can't answer, I'll
come back to-morrow. I want you to be my wife. I
want to give you everything the world offers, and I
want to make you happy, girl. There'll be no gossip
hereafter—I'll shield you from everything unpleasant,
n which Tugged outled lightss evenin
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A MIDNIGHT MESSENGER
and if there is anything you want in life, I'll lay it at
your feet. I can do it.” He lifted his massive arms,
and in the set of his strong, square face was the promise
that she should have whatever she craved if mortal
man could give it to her—love, protection, position,
adoration.
She stammered uncertainly till the humiliation and
chagrin she had suffered this night swept over her
again. This town—this crude, half-born mining-camp
-had turned against her, misjudged her cruelly. The
women were envious, clacking scandal-mongers, all of
them, who would ostracize her and make her life in
the Northland a misery, make her an outcast with
nothing to sustain her but her own solitary pride.
She could picture her future clearly, pitilessly, and see
herself standing alone, vilified, harassed in a thousand
cutting ways, yet unable to run away, or to explain.
She would have to stay and face it, for her life was
bound up here during the next few years or so, or as
long as her uncle remained a judge. This man would
free her. He loved her; he offered her everything.
He was bigger than all the rest combined. They were
his playthings, and they knew it. She was not sure
that she loved him, but his magnetism was overpower-
ing, and her admiration intense. No other man she
had ever known compared with him, except Glenister-
Bah! The beast! He had insulted her at first; he
wronged her now.
“Will you be my wife, Helen ?" the man repeated,
softly.
She dropped her head, and he strode forward to
take her in his arms, then stopped, listening. Some
one ran up on the porch and hammered loudly at the
175


THE SPOILERS
door. McNamara scowled, walked into the hall, and
fung the portal open, disclosing Struve.
“Hello, McNamara! Been looking all over for you.
There's the deuce to pay!” Helen sighed with relief
and gathered up her cloak, while the hum of their
voices reached her indistinctly. She was given plenty
of time to regain her composure before they appeared.
When they did, the politician spoke, sourly:
“I've been called to the mines, and I must go at once.”
“You bet! It may be too late now. The news
came an hour ago, but I couldn't find you," said
Struve. “Your horse is saddled at the office. Better
not wait to change your clothes.”
“You say Voorhees has gone with twenty deputies,
eh? That's good. You stay here and find out all
you can.”
"I telephoned out to the Creek for the boys to arm
themselves and throw out pickets. If you hurry you
can get there in time. It's only midnight now."
"What is the trouble?” Miss Chester inquired, anx-
iously.
“There's a plot on to attack the mines to-night,"
answered the lawyer. “The other side are trying to
seize them, and there's apt to be a fight.”
"You mustn't go out there,” she cried, aghast.
“There will be bloodshed.”
“That's just why I must go,” said McNamara. “I'll
come back in the morning, though, and I'd like to see
you alone. Good-night!” There was a strange, new
light in his eyes as he left her. For one unversed in
woman's ways he played the game surprisingly well,
and as he hurried towards his office he smiled grimly
into the darkness.
176


THE SPOILERS
more back of this great, fierce struggle than she knew.
It was impossible that injustice had been done the
mine-owners, and yet scattered talk reached her which
was puzzling. When she strove to follow it up, her
acquaintances adroitly changed the subject. She was
baffled on every side. The three local newspapers up-
held the court. She read them carefully, and was more
at sea than ever. There was a disturbing undercurrent
of alarm and unrest that caused her to feel insecure,
as though standing on hollow ground.
“Yes, this whole disturbance is caused by those two.
Only for them we'd be all right.”
“Who is Miss Malotte?"
He answered, promptly: “The handsomest woman
in the North, and the most dangerous."
"In what way? Who is she?"
“It's hard to say who or what she is-she's different
from other women. She came to Dawson in the early
days—just came-we didn't know how, whence, or
why, and we never found out. We woke up one morn-
ing and there she was. By night we were all jealous,
and in a week we were most of us drivelling idiots. It
might have been the mystery or, perhaps, the competi-
tion. That was the day when a dance-hall girl could
make a homestake in a winter or marry a millionaire
in a month, but she never bothered. She toiled not,
neither did she spin on the waxed floors, yet Solomon
in all his glory would have looked like a tramp beside
her."
"You say she is dangerous ?”.
“Well, there was the young nobleman, in the winter
of '98, Dane, I think-fine family and all that–big,
yellow-haired boy. He wanted to marry her, but a
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A MIDNIGHT MESSENGER
faro-dealer shot him. Then there was Rock, of the
mounted police, the finest officer in the service. He
was cashiered. She knew he was going to pot for her,
but she didn't seem to care—and there were others.
Yet, with it all, she is the most generous person and
the most tender-hearted. Why, she has fed every
‘stew bum' on the Yukon, and there isn't a busted
prospector in the country who wouldn't swear by her,
for she has grubstaked dozens of them. I was hor-
ribly in love with her myself. Yes, she's dangerous,
all right-to everybody but Glenister."
“What do you mean?”.
"She had been across the Yukon to nurse a man
with scurvy, and coming back she was caught in the
spring break-up. I wasn't there, but it seems this
Glenister got her ashore somehow when nobody else
would tackle the job. They were carried five miles
down-stream in the ice-pack before he succeeded.”
“What happened then?"
"She fell in love with him, of course. "
"And he worshipped her as madly as all the rest of
you, I suppose,” she said, scornfully.
“That's the peculiar part. She hypnotized him at
first, but he ran away, and I didn't hear of him again
till I came to Nome. She followed him, finally, and
last week evened up her score. She paid him back for
saving her."
“I haven't heard about it.”
He detailed the story of the gambling episode at the
Northern saloon, and concluded: “I'd like to have
seen that 'turn,' for they say the excitement was
terrific. She was keeping cases, and at the finish
slammed her case-keeper shut and declared the bet
ell in loved thenack before
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A MIDNIGHT MESSENGER
“The handsomest woman in the North,” Struve had
said. She raised her eyes to the glass and made a
mouth at the petulant, tired reflection there. She pict-
ured Glenister leaping from floe to floe with the hungry
river surging and snapping at his feet, while the cheers
of the crowd on shore gave heart to the girl crouching
out there. She could see him snatch her up and fight
his way back to safety over the plunging ice-cakes with
death dragging at his heels. What a strong embrace
he had! At this she blushed and realized with a shock
that while she was mooning that very man might be
fighting hand to hand in the darkness of a mountain-
gorge with the man she was going to marry.
A moment later some one mounted the front steps
below and knocked sharply. Truly this was a night of
alarms. Would people never cease coming? She was
worn out, but at the thought of the tragedy abroad
and the sick old man sleeping near by, she lit a can-
dle and slipped down-stairs to avoid disturbing him.
Doubtless it was some message from McNamara, she
thought, as she unchained the door.
As she opened it, she fell back amazed while it
swung wide and the candle flame Aickered and sput-
tered in the night air. Roy Glenister stood there, grim
and determined, his soft, white Stetson pulled low, his
trousers tucked into tan half-boots, in his hand a Win-
chester rifle. Beneath his corduroy coat she saw a
loose cartridge-belt, yellow with shells, and the nickelled
flash of a revolver. Without invitation he strode across
the threshold, closing the door behind him.
"Miss Chester, you and the Judge must dress quickly
and come with me."
“I don't understand.”
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THE SPOILERS
“The Vigilantes are on their way here to hang him.
Come with me to my house where I can protect you."
She laid a trembling hand on her bosom and the
color died out of her face, then at a slight noise above
they both looked up to see Judge Stillman leaning far
over the banister. He had wrapped himself in a dress-
ing-gown and now gripped the rail convulsively, while
his features were blanched to the color of putty and his
eyes were wide with terror, though puffed and swollen
from sleep. His lips moved in a vain endeavor to
speak.


CHAPTER XV
VIGILANTES
N the morning after the episode in the Northern,
Glenister awoke under a weight of discouragement
and desolation. The past twenty-four hours with their
manifold experiences seemed distant and unreal. At
breakfast he was ashamed to tell Dextry of the gam-
bling debauch, for he had dealt treacherously with the
old man in risking half of the mine, even though they
had agreed that either might do as he chose with his
interest, regardless of the other. It all seemed like a
nightmare, those tense moments when he lay above the
receiver's office and felt his belief in the one woman
slipping away, the frenzied thirst which Cherry Malotte
had checked, the senseless, unreasoning lust for play
that possessed him later. This lapse was the last stand
of his old, untamed instincts. The embers of revolt in
him were dead. He felt that he would never again
lose mastery of himself, that his passions would never
best him hereafter.
Dextry spoke. “We had a meeting of the 'Stran-
glers' last night.” He always spoke of the Vigilantes
in that way, because of his early Western training.
“What was done?”
“They decided to act quick and do any odd jobs
of lynchin', claim - jumpin', or such as needs doin'.
in that hat wasided to
183


THE SPOILERS
Failed. an step in the ca
There's a lot of law sharps and storekeepers in the
bunch who figure McNamara's gang will wipe them off
the map next.”
“It was bound to come to this.”
“They talked of ejectin' the receiver's men and
puttin' all us fellers back on our mines.”
“Good. How many can we count on to help us?"
"About sixty. We've kept the number down, and
only taken men with so much property that they'll
have to keep their mouths shut.'
“I wish we might engineer some kind of an encoun-
ter with the court crowd and create such an uproar
that it would reach Washington. Everything else has
failed, and our last chance seems to be for the govern-
ment to step in; that is, unless Bill Wheaton can do
something with the California courts."
"I don't count on him. McNamara don't care for
California courts no more 'n he would for a boy with a
pea-shooter-he's got too much pull at headquarters.
If the 'Stranglers' don't do no good, we'd better go in
an' clean out the bunch like we was killin' snakes. If
that fails, I'm goin' out to the States an' be a doctor."
"A doctor? What for?”
"I read somewhere that in the United States every
year there is forty million gallons of whiskey used for
medical purposes."
Glenister laughed. “Speaking of whiskey, Dex-I
notice that you've been drinking pretty hard of late-
that is, hard for you."
The old man shook his head. “You're mistaken.
It ain't hard for me.”
“Well, hard or easy, you'd better cut it out."
It was some time later that one of the detectives
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VIGILANTES
employed by the Swedes met Glenister on Front Street,
and by an almost imperceptible sign signified his desire
to speak with him. When they were alone he said:
“You're being shadowed.”
"I've known that for a long time.”
“The district-attorney has put on some new men.
I've fixed the woman who rooms next to him, and
through her I've got a line on some of them, but I
haven't spotted them all. They're bad ones 'up-
river' men mostly-remnants of Soapy Smith's Skag-
way gang. They won't stop at anything."
“Thank you—I'll keep my eyes open.”
A few nights after, Glenister had reason to recall the
words of the sleuth and to realize that the game was
growing close and desperate. To reach his cabin,
which sat on the outskirts of the town, he ordinarily
followed one of the plank walks which wound through
the confusion of tents, warehouses, and cottages lying
back of the two principal streets along the water front.
This part of the city was not laid out in rectangular
blocks, for in the early rush the first-comers had seized
whatever pieces of ground they found vacant and
erected thereon some kind of buildings to make good
their titles. There resulted a formless jumble of huts,
cabins, and sheds, penetrated by no cross streets and
quite unlighted. At night, one leaving the illuminated
portion of the town found this darkness intensified.
Glenister knew his course so well that he could have
walked it blindfolded. Nearing a corner of the ware-
house this evening he remembered that the planking
at this point was torn up, so, to avoid the mud, he
leaped lightly across. Simultaneously with his jump
he detected a movement in the shadows that banked
185


THE SPOILERS
the wall at his elbow and saw the flaming spurt of a
revolver-shot. The man had crouched behind the
building and was so close that it seemed impossible to
miss. Glenister fell heavily upon his side and the
thought flashed over him, “McNamara's thugs have
shot me."
His assailant leaped out from his hiding-place and
ran down the walk, the sound of his quick, soft foot-
falls thudding faintly out into the silence. The young
man felt no pain, however, so scrambled to his feet,
felt himself over with care, and then swore roundly.
He was untouched; the other had missed him cleanly.
The report, coming while he was in the act of leaping,
had startled him so that he had lost his balance, slipped
upon the wet boards, and fallen. His assailant was
lost in the darkness before he could rise. Pursuit was
out of the question, so he continued homeward, con-
siderably shaken, and related the incident to Dextry.
“You think it was some of McNamara's work, eh?"
Dextry inquired when he had finished.
“Of course. Didn't the detective warn me to-day?"
Dextry shook his head. “It don't seem like the
game is that far along yet. The time is coming when
we'll go to the mat with them people, but they've got
the aige on us now, so what could they gain by putting
you away? I don't believe it's them, but whoever it
is, you'd better be careful or you'll be got.”
"Suppose we come home together after this,” Roy
suggested, and they arranged to do so, realizing that
danger lurked in the dark corners and that it was in
some such lonely spot that the deed would be tried
again. They experienced no trouble for a time, though
on nearing their cabin one night the younger man
dansested, ander.come hom or you'll cm, but
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VIGILANTES
fancied that he saw a shadow glide away from its
vicinity and out into the blackness of the tundra, as
though some one had stood at his very door waiting
for him, then became frightened at the two figures ap-
proaching. Dextry had not observed it, however, and
Glenister was not positive himself, but it served to give
him the uncanny feeling that some determined, un-
scrupulous force was bent on his destruction. He de-
termined to go nowhere unarmed.
A few evenings later he went home early and was
busied in writing when Dextry came in about ten
o'clock. The old miner hung up his coat before speak-
ing, lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, then, amid mouthfuls
of smoke, began:
“I had my own toes over the edge to-night. I was
mistook for you, which compliment I don't aim to have
repeated.”
Glenister questioned him eagerly.
“We're about the same height an' these hats of ours
are alike. Just as I come by that lumber-pile down
yonder, a man hopped out an throwed a 'gat' under
my nose. He was quicker than light, and near blowed
my skelp into the next block before he saw who I was;
then he dropped his weepon and said:
“My mistake. Go on.' I accepted his apology."
“Could you see who he was?”
"Sure. Guess.”
"I can't.”
“It was the Bronco Kid.”
“Lord!" ejaculated Glenister. "Do you think he's
after me?”
“He ain't after nobody else, an', take my word for it,
it's got nothin' to do with McNamara nor that gamblin'
. 187


THE SPOILERS
row. He's too game for that. There's some other
reason.”
This was the first mention Dextry had made of the
night at the Northern.
“I don't know why he should have it in for me I
never did him any favors,” Glenister remarked, cyni-
cally.
“Well, you watch out, anyhow. I'd sooner face
McNamara an' all the crooks he can hire than that
gambler."
During the next few days Roy undertook to meet
the proprietor of the Northern face to face, but the Kid
had vanished completely from his haunts. He was not
in his gambling-hall at night nor on the street by day.
The young man was still looking for him on the evening
of the dance at the hotel, when he chanced to meet one
of the Vigilantes, who inquired of him:
“Aren't you late for the meeting?"
“What meeting ?”
After seeing that they were alone, the other stated:
“There's an assembly to-night at eleven o'clock.
Something important, I think. I supposed, of course,
you knew about it.”
"It's strange I wasn't notified,” said Roy. “It's
probably an oversight. I'll go along with you."
Together they crossed the river to the less frequented
part of town and knocked at the door of a large, un-
lighted warehouse, flanked by a high board fence. The
building faced the street, but was enclosed on the other
three sides by this ten-foot wall, inside of which were
stored large quantities of coal and lumber. After some
delay they were admitted, and, passing down through
the dim-lit, high-banked lanes of merchandise, came to
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VIGILANTES
the rear room, where they were admitted again. This
compartment had been fitted up for the warm storage
of perishable goods during the cold weather, and, being
without windows, made an ideal place for clandestine
gatherings.
Glenister was astonished to find every man of the
organization present, including Dextry, whom he sup-
posed to have gone home an hour since. Evidently a
discussion had been in progress, fo: a chairman was
presiding, and the boxes, kegs, and bales of goods had
been shoved back against the walls for seats. On these
were ranged the threescore men of the “Stranglers,"
their serious faces lighted imperfectly by scattered
lanterns. A certain constraint seized them upon Glen-
ister's entrance; the chairman was embarrassed. It
was but momentary, however. Glenister himself felt
that tragedy was in the air, for it showed in the men's
attitudes and spoke eloquently from their strained faces.
He was about to question the man next to him when
the presiding officer continued:
“We will assemble here quietly with our arms at one
o'clock. And let me caution you again not to talk or
do anything to scare the birds away.”
Glenister arose. “I came late, Mr. Chairman, so I
missed hearing your plan. I gather that you're out
for business, however, and I want to be in it. May I
ask what is on foot ?".
“Certainly. Things have reached such a pass that
moderate means are useless. We have decided to act,
and act quickly. We have exhausted every legal re-
source and now we're going to stamp out this gang of
robbers in our own way. We will get together in an
hour, divide into three groups of twenty men, each
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THE SPOILERS
with a leader, then go to the houses of McNamara,
Stillman, and Voorhees, take them prisoners, and—”
He waved his hand in a large gesture.
Glenister made no answer for a moment, while the
crowd watched him intently.
“You have discussed this fully ?” he asked.
“We have. It has been voted on, and we're unani-
mous.”
“My friends, when I stepped into this room just now
I felt that I wasn't wanted. Why, I don't know, be-
cause I have had more to do with organizing this move-
ment than any of you, and because I have suffered just
as much as the rest. I want to know if I was omitted
from this meeting intentionally."
“This is an embarrassing position to put me in,"
said the chairman, gravely. “But I shall answer as
spokesman for these men if they wish.”
“Yes. Go ahead," said those around the room.
“We don't question your loyalty, Mr. Glenister, but
we didn't ask you to this meeting because we know
your attitude-perhaps I'd better say sentiment-re-
garding Judge Stillman's niece-er-family. It has come
to us from various sources that you have been affected
to the prejudice of your own and your partner's inter-
est. Now, there isn't going to be any sentiment in the
affairs of the Vigilantes. We are going to do justice,
and we thought the simplest way was to ignore you in
this matter and spare all discussion and hard feeling
in every quarter.”
“It's a lie!" shouted the young man, hoarsely. “A
damned lie! You wouldn't let me in for fear I'd kick,
eh? Well, you were right. I will kick. You've hint-
ed about my feelings for Miss Chester. Let me tell you
in eve's a liel" shou wouldn't let mill kick. Y
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VIGILANTES
that she is engaged to marry McNamara, and that she's
nothing to me. Now, then, let me tell you, further,
that you won't break into her house and hang her uncle,
even if he is a reprobate. No, sir! This isn't the time
for violence of that sort—we'll win without it. If we,
can't, let's fight like men, and not hunt in a pack like
wolves. If you want to do something, put us back on
our mines and help us hold them, but, for God's sake,
don't descend to assassination and the tactics of the
Mafia!"
“We knew you would make that kind of a talk,"
said the speaker, while the rest murmured grudgingly.
One of them spoke up.
“We've talked this over in cold blood, Glenister,
and it's a question of their lives or our liberty. The
law don't enter into it.”
“That's right," echoed another at his elbow. “We
can't seize the claims, because McNamara's got soldiers
to back him up. They'd shoot us down. You ought
to be the last one to object.”
He saw that dispute was futile. Determination was
stamped on their faces too plainly for mistake, and his
argument had no more effect on them than had the pale
rays of the lantern beside him, yet he continued:
"I don't deny that McNamara deserves lynching,
but Stillman doesn't. He's a weak old man”—some
one laughed derisively—“and there's a woman in the
house. He's all she has in the world to depend upon,
and you would have to kill her to get at him. If you
must follow this course, take the others, but leave him
alone."
They only shook their heads, while several pushed by
him even as he spoke. “We're going to distribute our
191


THE SPOILERS
favors equal,” said a man as he left. They were actu-
ated by what they called justice, and he could not sway
them. The life and welfare of the North were in their
hands, as they thought, and there was not one to hesi-
tate. Glenister implored the chairman, but the man
answered him:
“It's too late for further discussion, and let me re-
mind you of your promise. You're bound by every
obligation that exists for an honorable man—"
"Oh, don't think that I'll give the snap away!" said
the other; “but I warn you again not to enter Still-
man's house."
He followed out into the night to find that Dextry
had disappeared, evidently wishing to avoid argument.
Roy had seen signs of unrest beneath the prospector's
restraint during the past few days, and indications of
a fierce hunger to vent his spleen on the men who had
robbed him of his most sacred rights. He was of an in-
tolerant, vindictive nature that would go to any length
for vengeance. Retribution was part of his creed.
On his way home, the young man looked at his watch,
to find that he had but an hour to determine his course.
Instinct prompted him to join his friends and to even
the score with the men who had injured him so bitterly,
for, measured by standards of the frontier, they were
pirates with their lives forfeit. Yet, he could not coun-
tenance this step. If only the Vigilantes would be con-
tent with making an example—but he knew they would
not. The blood hunger of a mob is easy to whet and
hard to hold. McNamara would resist, as would Voor-
hees and the district - attorney, then there would be
bloodshed, riot, chaos. The soldiers would be called
out and martial law declared, the streets would become
192


VIGILANTES
skirmish - grounds. The Vigilantes would rout them
without question, for every citizen of the North would
rally to their aid, and such men could not be stopped.
The Judge would go down with the rest of the ring, and
what would happen to-her?
He took down his Winchester, oiled and cleaned it,
then buckled on a belt of cartridges. Still he wrestled
with himself. He felt that he was being ground be-
tween his loyalty to the Vigilantes and his own con-
science. The girl was one of the gang, he reasoned-
she had schemed with them to betray him through his
love, and she was pledged to the one man in the world
whom he hated with fanatical fury. Why should he
think of her in this hour? Six months back he would
have looked with jealous eyes upon the right to lead
the Vigilantes, but this change that had mastered him
-what was it? Not cowardice, nor caution. No. Yet,
being intangible, it was none the less marked, as his
friends had shown him an hour since..
He slipped out into the night. The mob might do
as it pleased elsewhere, but no man should enter her
house. He found a light shining from her parlor win-
dow, and, noting the shade up a few inches, stole close.
Peering through, he discovered Struve and Helen talk-
ing. He slunk back into the shadows and remained
hidden for a considerable time after the lawyer left,
for the dancers were returning from the hotel and
passed close by. When the last group had chattered
away down the street, he returned to the front of the
house and, mounting the steps, knocked sharply. As
Helen appeared at the door, he stepped inside and
closed it after him.
The girl's hair lay upon her neck and shoulders in
193


VIGILANTES
ing that-the wires are cut; and I won't notify Voor-
hees—he can take care of himself. I came to help you,
and if you want to escape you'll stop talking and
hurry up:"
“I don't know what to do,” said Stillman, torn by
terror and indecision. “You wouldn't hurt an old
man, would you? Wait! I'll be down in a minute.”
He scrambled up the stairs, tripping on his robe,
seemingly forgetting his niece till she called up to him,
sharply:
“Stop, Uncle Arthur! You mustn't run away."
She stood erect and determined. “You wouldn't do
that, would you? This is our house. You represent
the law and the dignity of the government. You
mustn't fear a mob of ruffians. We will stay here and
meet them, of course.”
“Good Lord!” said Glenister. “That's madness.
These men aren't ruffians; they are the best citizens
of Nome. You don't realize that this is Alaska and
that they have sworn to wipe out McNamara's gang.
Come along."
"Thank you for your good intentions,” she said,
“but we have done nothing to run away from. We
will get ready to meet these cowards. You had better
go or they will find you here."
She moved up the stairs, and, taking the Judge by
the arm, led him with her. Of a sudden she had
assumed control of the situation unfalteringly, and
both men felt the impossibility of thwarting her.
Pausing at the top, she turned and looked down.
“We are grateful for your efforts just the same.
Good-night.”
“Oh, I'm not going,” said the young man. “If you
195


THE SPOILERS
stick I'll do the same.” He made the rounds of the
first - floor rooms, locking doors and windows. As a
place of defence it was hopeless, and he saw that he
would have to make his stand up-stairs. When suffi-
cient time had elapsed he called up to Helen:
“May I come?"
“Yes,” she replied. So he ascended, to find Still-
man in the hall, half clothed and cowering, while by
the light from the front chamber he saw her finishing
her toilet.
“Won't you come with me—it's our last chance?”
She only shook her head. “Well, then, put out the
light. I'll stand at that front window, and when my
eyes get used to the darkness I'll be able to see them
before they reach the gate.”
She did as directed, taking her place beside him at
the opening, while the Judge crept in and sat upon the
bed, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room.
The two young people stood so close beside each other
that the sweet scent of her person awoke in him an
almost irresistible longing. He forgot her treachery
again, forgot that she was another's, forgot all save
that he loved her truly and purely, with a love which
was like an agony to him. Her shoulder brushed his
arm; he heard the soft rustling of her garment at her
breast as she breathed. Some one passed in the street,
and she laid a hand upon him fearfully. It was very
cold, very tiny, and very soft, but he made no move
to take it. The moments dragged along, still, tense,
interminable. Occasionally she leaned towards him,
and he stooped to catch her whispered words. At such
times her breath beat warm against his cheek, and he
closed his teeth stubbornly. Out in the night a wolf-
196


VIGILANTES
dog saddened the air, then came the sound of others
wrangling and snarling in a near-by corral. This is a
chickless land and no cock-crow breaks the midnight
peace. The suspense enhanced the Judge's perturba-
tion till his chattering teeth sounded like castanets.
Now and then he groaned.
The watchers had lost track of time when their
strained eyes detected dark blots materializing out of
the shadows.
“There they come,” whispered Glenister, forcing her
back from the aperture; but she would not be denied,
and returned to his side.
As the foremost figures reached the gate, Roy leaned
forth and spoke, not loudly, but in tones that sliced
through the silence, sharp, clean, and without warning.
“Halt! Don't come inside the fence." There was
an instant's confusion; then, before the men beneath
had time to answer or take action, he continued:
“This is Roy Glenister talking. I told you not to
molest these people and I warn you again. We're
ready for you.”
The leader spoke. "You're a traitor, Glenister.”
He winced. “Perhaps I am. You betrayed me
first, though; and, traitor or not, you can't come into
this house.”
There was a murmur at this, and some one said:
“Miss Chester is safe. All we want is the Judge.
We won't hang him, not if he'll wear this suit we
brought along. He needn't be afraid. Tar is good for
the skin.”
"Oh, my God!” groaned the limb of the law.
Suddenly a man came running down the planked
pavement and into the group.
197


THE SPOILERS
“McNamara's gone, and so's the marshal and the
rest,” he panted. There was a moment's silence, and
then the leader growled to his men, “Scatter out and
rush the house, boys.” He raised his voice to the man
in the window. “This is your work—you damned
turncoat." His followers melted away to right and
left, vaulted the fence, and dodged into the shelter of
the walls. The click, click of Glenister's Winchester
sounded through the room while the sweat stood out
on him. He wondered if he could do this deed, if he
could really fire on these people. He wondered if his
muscles would not wither and paralyze before they
obeyed his command.
Helen crowded past him and, leaning half out of the
opening, called loudly, her voice ringing clear and true:
“Wait! Wait a moment. I have something to say.
Mr. Glenister didn't warn them. They thought you
were going to attack the mines and so they rode out
there before midnight. I am telling you the truth,
really. They left hours ago." It was the first sign
she had made, and they recognized her to a man.
There were uncertain mutterings below till a new
man raised his voice. Both Roy and Helen recognized
Dextry.
“Boys, we've overplayed. We don't want these peo-
ple-McNamara's our meat. Old bald-face up yonder
has to do what he's told, and I'm ag'in' this twenty-
to-one midnight work. I'm goin' home." There were
some whisperings, then the original spokesman called
for Judge Stillman. The old man tottered to the win-
dow, a palsied, terror-stricken object. The girl was
glad he could not be seen from below.
“We won't hurt you this time, Judge, but you've
198


VIGILANTES
gone far enough. We'll give you another chance, then,
if you don't make good, we'll stretch you to a lamp-
post. Take this as a warning."
“I-s-shall do my d-d-duty," said the Judge.
The men disappeared into the darkness, and when
they had gone Glenister closed the window, pulled down
the shades, and lighted a lamp. He knew by how nar-
row a margin a tragedy had been averted. If he had
fired on these men his shot would have kindled a feud
which would have consumed every vestige of the court
crowd and himself among them. He would have fallen
under a false banner, and his life would not have
reached to the next sunset. Perhaps it was forfeit
now-he could not tell. The Vigilantes would probably
look upon his part as traitorous; and, at the very least,
he had cut himself off from their support, the only sup-
port the Northland offered him. Henceforth he was a
renegade, a pariah, hated alike by both factions. He
purposely avoided sight of Stillman and turned his back
when the Judge extended his hand with expressions of
gratitude. His work was done and he wished to leave
this house. Helen followed him down to the door and,
as he opened it, laid her hand upon his sleeve.
“Words are feeble things, and I can never make
amends for all you've done for us.”
"For us !” cried Roy, with a break in his voice.
“Do you think I sacrificed my honor, betrayed my
friends, killed my last hope, ostracized myself, for
'us'? This is the last time I'll trouble you. Perhaps
the last time I'll see you. No matter what else you've
done, however, you've taught me a lesson, and I thank
you for it. I have found myself at last, I'm not an
Eskimo any longer-I'm a man!"
199


THE SPOILERS
“You've always been that,” she said. "I don't un.
derstand as much about this affair as I want to, and it
seems to me that no one will explain it. I'm very
stupid, I guess; but won't you come back to-morrow
and tell it to me?".
“No,” he said, roughly. “You're not of my people.
McNamara and his are no friends of mine, and I'm no
friend of theirs." He was half down the steps before
she said, softly:
“Good-night, and God bless you-friend."
She returned to the Judge, who was in a pitiable state,
and for a long time she labored to soothe him as though
he were a child. She undertook to question him about
the things which lay uppermost in her mind and which
this night had half revealed, but he became fretful and
irritated at the mention of mines and mining. She sat
beside his bed till he dozed off, puzzling to discover
what lay behind the hints she had heard, till her brain
and body matched in absolute weariness. The reflex
of the day's excitement sapped her strength till she
could barely creep to her own couch, where she rolled
and sighed—too tired to sleep at once. She awoke
finally, with one last nervous flicker, before complete
oblivion took her. A sentence was on her mind-it
almost seemed as though she had spoken it aloud:
“The handsomest woman in the North . , . but
Glenister ran away."


THE SPOILERS
,
.
she discovered their genuine respect and courtesy.
The most unkempt among them were often college-
bred, although, for that matter, the roughest of the
miners showed abundant consideration for a woman.
So she was glad to allow the men to talk to her with
the fine freedom inspired by the new country and its
wide spaces. The wilderness breeds a chivalry all its
own.
Thus there seemed to be no danger abroad, though
they had told the girl of mad dogs which roamed the
city, explaining that the hot weather affects powerfully
the thick-coated, shaggy “malamoots." This is the
land of the dog, and whereas in winter his lot is to la-
bor and shiver and starve, in summer he loafs, fights,
grows fat, and runs mad with the heat.
Helen walked far and, returning, chose an unfamiliar
course through the outskirts of the town to avoid meet-
ing any of the women she knew, because of that vivid
memory of the night before. As she walked swiftly along
she thought that she heard faint cries far behind her.
Looking up, she noted that it was a lonely, barren quar-
ter and that the only figure in sight was a woman some
distance away. A few paces farther on the shouts re-
curred—more plainly this time, and a gunshot sound-
ed. Glancing back, she saw several men running, one
bearing a smoking revolver, and heard, nearer still, the
snarling hubbub of fighting dogs. In a flash the girl's
curiosity became horror, for, as she watched, one of the
dogs made a sudden dash through the now subdued
group of animals and ran swiftly along the planking on
which she stood. It was a handsome specimen of the
Eskimo malamoot-tall, gray, and coated like a wolf,
with the speed, strength, and cunning of its cousin.
202


THE TRUTH BEGINS TO BARE ITSELF
Its head hung low and swung from side to side as it
trotted, the motion flecking foam and slaver. The
creature had scattered the pack, and now, swift, men-
acing, relentless, was coming towards Helen. There
was no shelter near, no fence, no house, save the distant
one towards which the other woman was making her
way. The men, too far away to protect her, shouted
hoarse warnings.
Helen did not scream nor hesitate—she turned and
ran, terror-stricken, towards the distant cottage. She
was blind with fright and felt an utter certainty that
the dog would attack her before she could reach safety.
Yes—there was the quick patter of his pads close up:
behind her; her knees weakened; the sheltering door
was yet some yards away. But a horse, tethered near
the walk, reared and snorted as the flying pair drew
near. The mad creature swerved, leaped at the horse's.
legs, and snapped in fury. Badly frightened at this
attack, the horse lunged at his halter, broke it, and
galloped away; but the delay had served for Helen,
weak and faint, to reach the door. She wrenched at
the knob. It was locked. As she turned hopelessly
away, she saw that the other woman was directly be-
hind her, and was, in her turn, awaiting the mad ani-
mal's onslaught, but calmly, a tiny revolver in her
hand.
"Shoot!” screamed Helen. “Why don't you shoot ?"
The little gun spoke, and the dog spun around, snarling
and yelping. The woman fired several times more be-
fore it lay still, and then remarked, calmly, as she
“broke" the weapon and ejected the shells:
“The calibre is too small to be good for much.”
Helen sank down upon the steps.
14
203


THE SPOILERS
"How well you shoot!” she gasped. Her eyes were
on the gray bundle whose death agonies had thrust it
almost to her feet. The men had run up and were talk-
ing excitedly, but after a word with them the woman
turned to Helen.
“You must come in for a moment and recover your-
self,” she said, and led her inside.
It was a cosey room in which the girl found herself-
more than that-luxurious. There was a piano with
scattered music, and many of the pretty, feminine
things that Helen had not seen since leaving home.
The hostess had stepped behind some curtains for
an instant and was talking to her from the next
room.
“That is the third mad dog I have seen this month.
Hydrophobia is becoming a habit in this neighbor-
hood.” She returned, bearing a tiny silver tray with
decanter and glasses.
“You're all unstrung, but this brandy will help you
--if you don't object to a swallow of it. Then come
right in here and lie down for a moment and you'll be
all right.” She spoke with such genuine kindness and
sympathy that Helen flashed a grateful glance at her.
She was tall, slender, and with a peculiar undulating
suggestion in her movements, as though she had been
bred to the clinging folds of silken garments. Helen
watched the charm of her smile, the friendly solicitude
of her expression, and felt her heart warm towards this
one kind woman in Nome.
“You're very good," she answered; "but I'm all
right now. I was badly frightened. It was wonder-
ful, your saving me.” She followed the other's grace-
ful motion as she placed her burden on the table, and
204


THE SPOILERS
Therefore, you're quite safe. That's what makes me
an outcast-I was found out. I want you to know,
however, that, bad as I am, I'm better than you, for
I'm loyal to those that like me, and I don't betray my
friends."
“I don't pretend to understand you," said Helen,
coldly.
“Oh yes, you do! Don't assume such innocence.
Of course it's your rôle, but you can't play it with me."
She stepped in front of her visitor, placing her back
against the door, while her face was bitter and mock-
ing. “The little service I did you just now entitles me
to a privilege, I suppose, and I'm going to take advan-
tage of it to tell you how badly your mask fits. Dread-
fully rude of me, isn't it? You're in with a fine lot of
crooks, and I admire the way you've done your share
of the dirty work, but when you assume these scandal-
ized, supervirtuous airs it offends me."
“Let me out!”
"I've done bad things,” Cherry continued, unheed-
ingly, “but I was forced into them, usually, and I
never, deliberately, tried to wreck a man's life just for
his money."
“What do you mean by saying that I have betrayed
my friends and wrecked anybody's life?" Helen de-
manded, hotly.
“Bah! I had you sized up at the start, but Roy
couldn't see it. Then Struve told me what I hadn't
guessed. A bottle of wine, a woman, and that fool
will tell all he knows. It's a great game McNamara's
playing and he did well to get you in on it, for you're
clever, your nerve is good, and your make-up is great
for the part. I ought to know, for I've turned a few
206


THE TRUTH BEGINS TO BARE ITSELF
tricks myself. You'll pardon this little burst of feel-
ing-professional pique. I'm jealous of your ability,
that's all. However, now that you realize we're in the
same class, don't look down on me hereafter." She
opened the door and bowed her guest out with elabo-
rate mockery.
Helen was too bewildered and humiliated to make
much out of this vicious and incoherent attack except
the fact that Cherry Malotte accused her of a part in
this conspiracy which every one seemed to believe ex-
isted. Here again was that hint of corruption which
she encountered on all sides. This might be merely a
woman's jealousy-and yet she said Struve had told
her all about it—that a bottle of wine and a pretty face
would make the lawyer disclose everything. She could
believe it from what she knew and had heard of him.
The feeling that she was groping in the dark, that she
was wrapped in a mysterious woof of secrecy, came
over her again as it had so often of late. If Struve
talked to that other woman, why wouldn't he talk
to her? She paused, changing her direction towards
Front Street, revolving rapidly in her mind as she went
her course of action. Cherry Malotte believed her to
be an actress. Very well-she would prove her judg-
ment right.
She found Struve busy in his private office, but he
leaped to his feet on her entrance and came forward,
leapaino her a chair... Woen. You has
“Good-morning, Miss Helen. You have a fine color,
considering the night you passed. The Judge told me
all about the affair; and let me state that you're the
pluckiest girl I know."
She smiled grimly at the thought of what made her
207


THE TRUTH BEGINS TO BARE ITSELF
He looked at her quickly. “In what respect?”
She summoned up her courage and walked past the
ragged edge of uncertainty.
“Now, don't you try to keep me in short dresses, too.
It's getting wearisome. I've done my part and I want
to know what the rest of you are doing.” She was pre-
pared for any answer.
“What do you want to know ?” he asked, cautiously.
"Everything. Don't you think I can hear what peo-
ple are saying?”
“Oh, that's it! Well, don't you pay any attention
to what people say.”
She recognized her mistake and continued, hurriedly:
“Why shouldn't I? Aren't we all in this together?
I object to being used and then discarded. I think I'm
entitled to know how the scheme is working. Don't
you think I can keep my mouth shut?"
“Of course," he laughed, trying to change the sub-
ject of their talk; but she arose and leaned against the
desk near him, vowing that she would not leave the
office without piercing some part of this mystery. His
manner strengthened her suspicion that there was some-
thing behind it all. This dissipated, brilliant creature
knew the situation thoroughly; and yet, though swayed
by her efforts, he remained chained by caution. She
leaned forward and smiled at him.
“You're just like the others, aren't you? You won't
give me any satisfaction at all.”
“Give, give, give,” said Struve, cynically. “That's
always the woman's cry. Give me this—give me that.
Selfish sex! Why don't you offer something in return?
Men are traders, women usurers. You are curious,
hence miserable. I can help you, therefore I should
209


THE SPOILERS
do it for a smile. You ask me to break my promises
and risk my honor on your caprice. Well, that's
woman - like, and I'll do it. I'll put myself in your
power, but I won't do it gratis. No, we'll trade."
“It isn't curiosity,” she denied, indignantly. “It is
my due.”
“No; you've heard the common talk and grown sus-
picious, that's all. You think I know something that
will throw a new light or a new shadow on everything
you have in the world, and you're worked up to such a
condition that you can't take your own people's word;
and, on the other hand, you can't go to strangers, so
you come to me. Suppose I told you I had the papers
you brought to me last spring in that safe and that they
told the whole story—whether your uncle is unimpeach-
able or whether he deserved hanging by that mob.
What would you do, eh? What would you give to see
them? Well, they're there and ready to speak for
themselves. If you're a woman you won't rest till
you've seen them. Will you trade?"
“Yes, yes! Give them to me,” she cried, eagerly, at
which a wave of crimson rushed up to his eyes and he
rose abruptly from his chair. He made towards her,
but she retreated to the wall, pale and wide-eyed.
“Can't you see," she Aung at him, “that I must
know?”
He paused. “Of course I can, but I want a kiss to
bind the bargain-to apply on account.” He reached
for her hand with his own hot one, but she pushed him
away and slipped past him towards the door.
“Suit yourself,” said he, “but if I'm not mistaken,
you'll never rest till you've seen those papers. I've
studied you, and I'll place a bet that you can't marry
210


THE TRUTH BEGINS TO BARE ITSELF
thinn hatma Part" tell med on
"but I felt that I had to. If you can help me, I hope
you will. You said that you knew a great wrong was
being done. I have suspected it, but I didn't know,
and I've been afraid to doubt my own people. You
said I had a part in it—that I'd betrayed my friends.
Wait a moment,” she hurried on, at the other's cynical
smile. “Won't you tell me what you know and what
you think my part has been? I've heard and seen
things that make me think-oh, they make me afraid
to think, and yet I can't find the truth! You see, in a
struggle like this, people will make all sorts of allega-
tions, but do they know, have they any proof, that my
uncle has done wrong?"
"Is that all?"
“No. You said Struve told you the whole scheme.
I went to him and tried to cajole the story out of him,
but," She shivered at the memory.
“What success did you have?" inquired the listener,
oddly curious for all her cold dislike.
"Don't ask me. I hate to think of it.”
Cherry laughed cruelly. “So, failing there, you came
back to me, back for another favor from the waif. Well,
Miss Helen Chester, I don't believe a word you've said
and I'll tell you nothing. Go back to the uncle and
the rawboned lover who sent you, and inform them that
I'll speak when the time comes. They think I know
too much, do they ?—so they've sent you to spy? Well,
I'll make a compact. You play your game and I'll play
mine. Leave Glenister alone and I'll not tell on Mc-
Namara. Is it a bargain ?"
"No, no, no! Can't you see? That's not it. All I
want is the truth of this thing."
“Then go back to Struve and get it. He'll tell you;
213


THE SPOILERS
I won't. Drive your bargain with him-you're able.
You've fooled better men-now, see what you can do
with him.”
Helen left, realizing the futility of further effort,
though she felt that this woman did not really doubt
her, but was scourged by jealousy till she deliberately
chose this attitude.
Reaching her own house, she wrote two brief notes
and called in her Jap boy from the kitchen.
"Fred, I want you to hunt up Mr. Glenister and give
him this note. If you can't find him, then look for his
partner and give the other to him.” Fred vanished, to
return in an hour with the letter for Dextry still in his
hand.
“I don' catch dis feller,” he explained. “Young
mans say he gone, come back mebbe one, two, 'leven
days."
"Did you deliver the one to Mr. Glenister?"
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Was there an answer?"
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Well, give it to me."
The note read:
“Dear Miss Chester,-A discussion of a matter so familiar
to us both as the Anvil Creek controversy would be useless. If
your inclination is due to the incidents of last night, pray don't
trouble yourself. We don't want your pity. I am,
“ Your servant,
“Roy GLENISTER."
As she read the note, Judge Stillman entered, and it
seemed to the girl that he had aged a year for every
hour in the last twelve, or else the yellow afternoon
214


THE SPOILERS
“Nonsense,” he said, irritably. “This isn't any time
for silly scruples. It's life or death for me, maybe, and
for Alec, too.” He said the last craftily, but she
stormed at him:
“It's infamous! You're asking me to betray the
very man who saved us not twelve hours ago. He
risked his life for us."
"It isn't treachery at all, it's protection. If we don't
get them, they'll get us. I wouldn't punish that young
fellow, but I want the others. Come, now, you've got
to do it."
But she said “No” firmly, and quietly went to her
own room, where, behind the locked door, she sat for
a long time staring with unseeing eyes, her hands tight
clenched in her lap. At last she whispered:
“I'm afraid it's true. I'm afraid it's true.”
She remained hidden during the dinner -hour, and
pleaded a headache when McNamara called in the
early evening. Although she had not seen him since
he left her the night before, bearing her tacit promise to
wed him, yet how could she meet him now with the
conviction growing on her hourly that he was a master-
rogue? She wrestled with the thought that he and her
uncle, her own uncle who stood in the place of a father,
were conspirators. And yet, at memory of the Judge's
cold-blooded request that she should turn traitress, her
whole being was revolted. If he could ask a thing like
that, what other heartless, selfish act might he not be
capable of? All the long, solitary evening she kept her
room, but at last, feeling faint, slipped down-stairs in
search of Fred, for she had eaten nothing since her late
breakfast.
Voices reached her from the parlor, and as she came
216


THE TRUTH BEGINS TO BARE ITSELF
star in sigwas like aace to the win
to the last step she froze there in an attitude of listen-
ing. The first sentence she heard through the close-
drawn curtains banished all qualms at eavesdropping.
She stood for many breathless minutes drinking in the
plot that came to her plainly from within, then turned,
gathered up her skirts, and tiptoed back to her room.
Here she made haste madly, tearing off her house
clothes and donning others.
She pressed her face to the window and noted that
the night was like a close-hung velvet pall, without a
star in sight. Nevertheless, she wound a heavy veil
about her hat and face before she extinguished the
light and stepped into the hall. Hearing McNamara's
“Good-night” at the front door, she retreated again
while her uncle slowly mounted the stairs and paused
before her chamber. He called her name softly, but
when she did not answer continued on to his own room.
When he was safely within she descended quietly, went
out, and locked the front-door behind her, placing the
key in her bosom. She hurried now, feeling her way
through the thick gloom in a panic, while in her mind
was but one frightened thought:
"I'll be too late. I'll be too late,"


CHAPTER XVII
THE DRIP OF WATER IN THE DARK
DVEN after Helen had been out for some time she
could barely see sufficiently to avoid collisions.
The air, weighted by a low-hung roof of clouds, was
surcharged with the electric suspense of an impending
storm, and seemed to sigh and tremble at the hint of
power in leash. It was that pause before the conflict
wherein the night laid finger upon its lips.
As the girl neared Glenister's cabin she was disap-
pointed at seeing no light there. She stumbled tow-
ards the door, only to utter a half-strangled cry as two
men stepped out of the gloom and seized her roughly.
Something cold and hard was thrust violently against
her cheek, forcing her head back and bruising her. She
struggled and cried out.
"Hold on—it's a woman!” ejaculated the man who
had pinioned her arms, loosing his hold till only a hand
remained on her shoulder. The other lowered the
weapon he had jammed to her face and peered closely.
“Why, Miss Chester,” he said. “What are you do-
ing here? You came near getting hurt.”
"I am bound for the Wilsons', but I must have lost
my way in the darkness. I think you have cut my
face.” She controlled her fright firmly.
“That's too bad," one said. “We mistook you
218


THE DRIP OF WATER IN THE DARK
was flung open, framing the silhouette of a shirt-
sleeved, thick-set youth, who shouted:
“What 'n 'ell do you want to butt in for while the
show's on? Go round front.” She caught a glimpse
of disordered scenery, and before he could slam the door
in her face thrust a silver dollar into his hand, at the
same time wedging herself into the opening. He pock-
eted the coin and the door clicked to behind her.
“Well, speak up. The act's closin'." Evidently he
was the directing genius of the performance, for at that
moment the chorus broke into full cry, and he said,
hurriedly:
“Wait a minute. There goes the finally," and
dashed away to tend his drops and switches. When
the curtain was down and the principals had sought
their dressing-rooms he returned.
“Do you know Mr. Glenister?" she asked.
"Sure. I seen him to-night. Come here." He led
her towards the footlights, and, pulling back the edge of
the curtain, allowed her to peep past him out into the
dance-hall. She had never pictured a place like this,
and in spite of her agitation was astonished at its gaudy
elega: e. The gallery was formed of a continuous row
of compartments with curtained fronts, in which men
and women were talking, drinking, singing. The seats
on the lower floor were disappearing, and the canvas
cover was rolling back, showing the polished hardwood
underneath, while out through the wide folding-doors
that led to the main gambling-room she heard a brass-
lunged man calling the commencement of the dance.
Couples glided into motion while she watched.
“I don't see him," said her guide. “You better
walk out front and help yourself.” He indicated the
221


THE SPOILERS
stairs which led up to the galleried boxes and the steps
leading down on to the main floor, but she handed him
another coin, begging him to find Glenister and bring
him to her. “Hurry; hurry!” she implored.
The stage-manager gazed at her curiously, remark-
ing, “My! You spend your money like it had been left
to you. You're a regular pie-check for me. Come
around any time."
She withdrew to a dark corner and waited intermin-
ably till her messenger appeared at the head of the
gallery stairs and beckoned to her. As she drew near
he said, “I told him there was a thousand-dollar filly
flaggin' him from the stage door, but he's got a grouch
an' won't stir. He's in number seven.” She hesitated,
at which he said, “Go on-you're in right;" then con-
tinued, reassuringly: "Say, pal, if he's your white-haired
lad, you needn't start no roughhouse, 'cause he don't
flirt wit' these dames none whatever. Naw! Take it
from me."
She entered the door her counsellor indicated to find
Roy lounging back watching the dancers. He turned
inquiringly—then, as she raised her veil, leaped to his
feet and jerked the curtains to.
"Helen! What are you doing here?”
"You must go away quickly," she gasped. “They're
trying to arrest you."
“They! Who? Arrest me for what?".
"Voorhees and his men—for riot, or something about
last night.”
"Nonsense,” he said. “I had no part in it. You
know that.”
“Yes, yes—but you're a Vigilante, and they're after
you and all your friends. Your house is guarded and
222


THE DRIP OF WATER IN THE DARK
good would do away. done, Islande
the town is alive with deputies. They've planned to
jail you on some pretext or other and hold you in-
definitely. Please go before it's too late."
“How do you know this ?” he asked, gravely.
"I overheard them plotting.”
“Who?"
“Uncle Arthur and Mr. McNamara.” She faced him
squarely as she said it, and therefore saw the light flame
up in his eyes as he cried:
"And you came here to save me-came here at the
risk of your good name?"
“Of course. I would have done the same for Dex-
try." The gladness died away, leaving him listless.
"Well, let them come. I'm done, I guess. I heard
from Wheaton to-night. He's down and out, too
some trouble with the 'Frisco courts about jurisdiction
over these cases. I don't know that it's worth while
to fight any longer.”
“Listen,” she said. “You must go. I am sure
there is a terrible wrong being done, and you and I
must stop it. I have seen the truth at last, and you're
in the right. Please hide for a time at least."
“Very well. If you have taken sides with us there's
some hope left. Thank you for the risk you ran in
warning me.”
She had moved to the front of the compartment and
was peering forth between the draperies when she
stified a cry.
“Too late! Too late! There they are. Don't part
the curtains. They'll see you."
Pushing through the gambling-hall were Voorhees
and four others, seemingly in quest of some one.
“Run down the back stairs,” she breathed, and
223


THE SPOILERS
pushed him through the door. He caught and held
her hand with a last word of gratitude. Then he was
gone. She drew down her veil and was about to follow
when the door opened and he reappeared.
"No use,” he remarked, quietly. “There are three
more waiting at the foot." He looked out to find that
the officers had searched the crowd and were turning
towards the front stairs, thus cutting off his retreat.
There were but two ways down from the gallery and no
outside windows from which to leap. As they had
made no armed display, the presence of the officers had
not interrupted the dance.
Glenister drew his revolver, while into his eyes came
the dancing glitter that Helen had seen before, cold as
the glint of winter sunlight.
“No, not that — for God's sake!” she shuddered,
clasping his arm.
“I must for your sake, or they'll find you here, and
that's worse than ruin. I'll fight it out in the corridors
so that you can escape in the confusion. Wait till the
firing stops and the crowd gathers.” His hand was on
the knob when she tore it loose, whispering hoarsely:
“They'll kill you. Wait! There's a better way.
Jump.” She dragged him to the front of the box and
pulled aside the curtains. “It isn't high and they
won't see you till it's too late. Then you can run
through the crowd.”
He grasped her idea, and, slipping his weapon back
into its holster, laid hold of the ledge before him and
lowered himself down over the dancers. He swung out
unhesitatingly, and almost before he had been observed
had dropped into their midst. The gallery was but
twice the height of a man's head from the floor, so he
224


THE DRIP OF WATER IN THE DARK
landed on his feet and had drawn his Colts even while
the men at the stairs were shouting at him to halt.
At sight of the naked weapons there was confusion,
wherein the commands of the deputies mingled with
the shrieks of the women, the crash of overturned
chairs, and the sound of tramping feet, as the crowd
divided before Glenister and swept back against the
wall in the same ominous way that a crowd in the
street had once divided on the morning of Helen's
arrival. The trombone player, who had sunk low in
his chair with closed eyes, looked out suddenly at the
disturbance, and his alarm was blown through the horn
in a startled squawk. A large woman whimpered,
“Don't shoot," and thrust her palms to her ears, clos-
ing her eyes tightly.
Glenister covered the deputies, from whose vicinity
the by-standers surged as though from the presence of
lepers.
“Hands up!” he cried, sharply, and they froze into
motionless attitudes, one poised on the lowest step of
the stairs, the other a pace forward. Voorhees ap-
peared at the head of the flight and rushed down a
few steps only to come abruptly into range and to
assume a like rigidity, for the young man's aim shifted
to him.
: "I have a warrant for you," the officer cried, his
voice loud in the hush.
"Keep it,” said Glenister, showing his teeth in a
smile in which there was no mirth. He backed diag-
onally across the hall, his boot-heels clicking in the si-
lence, his eyes shifting rapidly up and down the stairs
where the danger lay.
From her station Helen could see the whole tableau,
.225


THE SPOILERS
breath sighed out of the night, lifting the litter from
underfoot and pelting him with flying particles. Over
the roofs the wind rushed with the rising moan of a
hurricane while the night grew suddenly noisy ahead
of the tempest.
He entered the door without knocking, to find the
girl removing her coat. Her face gladdened at sight
of him, but he checked her with quick and cautious
words, his speech almost drowned by the roar out-
side,
“Are you alone?” She nodded, and he slipped the
bolt behind him, saying:
“The marshals are after me. We just had a ‘run
in' at the Northern, and I'm on the go. No—nothing
serious yet, but they want the Vigilantes, and I must
get them word. Will you help me?" He rapidly re-
counted the row of the last ten minutes while she
nodded her quick understanding.
“You're safe here for a little while,” she told him,
"for the storm will check them. If they should come,
there's a back door leading out from the kitchen and a
side entrance yonder. In my room you'll find a French
window. They can't corner you very well."
“Slapjack and Dex are out at the shaft house-you
know—that quartz claim on the mountain above the
Midas." He hesitated. “Will you lend me your sad-
dle-horse? It's a black night and I may kill him."
“What about these men in town?"
"I'll warn them first, then hit for the hills."
She shook her head. “You can't do it. You can't
get out there before daylight if you wait to rouse these
people, and McNamara has probably telephoned the
mines to send a party up to the quartz claim after Dex.
228


THE DRIP OF WATER IN THE DARK
He knows where the old man is as well as you do, and
they'll raid him before dawn.”
“I'm afraid so, but it's all I can offer. Will you give
me the horse ?”
“No! He's only a pony, and you'd founder him in
the tundra. The mud is knee-deep. I'll go myself.”
“Good Heavens, girl, in such a night! Why, it's
worth your life! Listen to it! The creeks will be up
and you'll have to swim. No, I can't let you."
“He's a good little horse, and he'll take me through.”
Then, coming close, she continued: “Oh, boy! Can't
you see that I want to help? Can't you see that I-I'd
die for you if it would do any good ?" He gazed
gravely into her wide blue eyes and said, awkwardly:
“Yes, I know. I'm sorry things are-as they are—but
you wouldn't have me lie to you, little woman?".
"No. You're the only true man I ever knew. I
guess that's why I love you. And I do love you, oh, so
much! I want to be good and worthy to love you, too."
She laid her face against his arm and caressed him
with clinging tenderness, while the wind yelled loudly
about the eaves and the windows drummed beneath
the rain. His heavy brows knit themselves together
as she whispered:
"I love you! I love you! I love you!" with such
an agony of longing in her voice that her soft accents
were sharply distinguishable above the turmoil. The
growing wildness seemed a part of the woman's passion,
which whipped and harried her like a willow in a blast.
"Things are fearfully jumbled," he said, finally.
"And this is a bad time to talk about them. I wish
they might be different. No other girl would do what
you have offered to-night.”
229


THE SPOILERS
while Glenister cinched on her saddle. Then, when she
was at last mounted, she leaned forward:
“Will you kiss me once, Roy, for the last time?"
He took her rain-wet face between his hands and
kissed her upon the lips as he would have saluted a
little maid. As he did so, unseen by both of them, a
face was pressed for an instant against the pane of
glass in the stable wall.
“You're a brave girl and may God bless you," he
said, extinguishing the light. He flung the door wide
and she rode out into the storm. Locking the portal,
he plunged back towards the house to write his hurried
note, for there was much to do and scant time for its
accomplishment, despite the helping hand of the hurri-
cane. He heard the voice of Bering as it thundered on
the Golden Sands, and knew that the first great storm
of the fall had come. Henceforth he saw that the vio-
lence of men would rival the rising elements, for the
deeds of this night would stir their passions as Æolus
was rousing the hate of the sea.
He neglected to bolt the house door as he entered,
but Aung off his dripping coat and, seizing pad and
pencil, scrawled his message. The wind screamed about
the cabin, the lamp flared smokily, and Glenister felt
a draught suck past him as though from an open door
at his back as he wrote:
"I can't do anything more. The end has come and it has
brought the hatred and bloodshed that I have been trying to
prevent. I played the game according to your rules, but they
forced me back to first principles in spite of myself, and now I
don't know what the finish will be. To-morrow will tell. Take
care of your uncle, and if you should wish to communicate with
me, go to Cherry Malotte. She is a friend to both of us.
“ Always your servant,
Roy GLENISTER."
232


THE DRIP OF WATER IN THE DARK
As he sealed this he paused, while he felt the hair
on his neck rise and bristle and a chill race up his spine.
His heart fluttered, then pounded onward till the blood
thumped audibly at his ear-drums and he found himself
swaying in rhythm to its beat. The muscles of his back
cringed and rippled at the proximity of some hovering
peril, and yet an irresistible feeling forbade him to turn.
A sound came from close behind his chair—the drip,
drip, drip of water. It was not from the eaves, nor yet
from a faulty shingle. His back was to the kitchen
door, through which he had come, and, although there
were no mirrors before him, he felt a menacing presence
as surely as though it had touched him. His ears were
tuned to the finest pin-pricks of sound, so that he heard
the faint, sighing “squish” of a sodden shoe upon which
a weight had shifted. Still something chained him to his
seat. It was as though his soul laid a restraining hand
upon his body, waiting for the instant.
He let his hand seek his hip carelessly, but remem-
bered where his gun was. Mechanically, he addressed
the note in shaking characters, while behind him sound-
ed the constant drip, drip, drip that he knew came from
saturated garments. For a long moment he sat, till he
heard the stealthy click of a gun-lock muffled by finger
pressure. Then he set his face and slowly turned to find
the Bronco Kid standing behind him as though risen
from the sea, his light clothes wet and clinging, his feet
centred in a spreading puddle. The dim light showed
the convulsive fury of his features above the levelled
weapon, whose hammer was curled back like the head
of a striking adder, his eyes gleaming with frenzy.
Glenister's mouth was powder dry, but his mind was
leaping riotously like dust before a gale, for he divined
233


THE SPOILERS
himself to be in the deadliest peril of his life. When he
spoke the calmness of his voice surprised himself.
“What's the matter, Bronco ?" The Kid made no
reply, and Roy repeated, “What do you want?”
“That's a hell of a question,” the gambler said,
hoarsely. “I want you, of course, and I've got you."
“Hold up! I am unarmed. This is your third try,
and I want to know what's back of it.”
"Damn the talk!" cried the faro - dealer, moving
closer till the light shone on his features, which com-
menced to twitch. He raised the revolver he had half
lowered. “There's reason enough, and you know it."
Glenister looked him fairly between the eyes, grip-
ping himself with firm hands to stop the tremor he felt
in his bones. “You can't kill me,” he said. “I am
too good a man to murder. You might shoot a crook,
but you can't kill a brave man when he's unarmed.
You're no assassin.” He remained rigid in his chair,
however, moving nothing but his lips, meeting the
other's look unflinchingly. The Kid hesitated an in-
stant, while his eyes, which had been fixed with the
glare of hatred, wavered a moment, betraying the faint-
est sign of indecision. Glenister cried out, exultantly:
“Ha! I knew it. Your neck cords quiver."
The gambler grimaced. “I can't do it. If I could,
I'd have shot you before you turned. But you'll have
to fight, you dog. Get up and draw."
Roy refused. “I gave Cherry my gun."
“Yes, and more too," the man gritted. “I saw it all."
Even yet Glenister had made no slightest move,
realizing that a feather's weight might snap the gam-
bler's nervous tension and bring the involuntary twitch
that would put him out swifter than a whip is cracked.
234


THE DRIP OF WATER IN THE DARK
“I have tried it before, but murder isn't my game."
The Kid's eye caught the glint of Cherry's revolver
where she had discarded it. “There's a gun-get it."
"It's no good. You'd carry the six bullets and never
feel them. I don't know what this is all about, but I'll
fight you whenever I'm heeled right."
"Oh, you black-hearted hound,” snarled the Kid.
“I want to shoot, but I'm afraid. I used to be a gen-
tleman and I haven't lost it all, I guess. But I won't
wait the next time. I'll down you on sight, so you'd
better get ironed in a hurry.” He backed out of the
room into the semi-darkness of the kitchen, watching
with lynxlike closeness the man who sat so quietly
under the shaded light. He felt behind him for the
outer door-knob and turned it to let in a white sheet
of rain, then vanished like a storm wraith, leaving a
parched-lipped man and a zigzag trail of water, which
gleamed in the lamplight like a pool of blood.
26


CHAPTER XVIII
WHEREIN A TRAP IS BAITED
Theking the very his Aesh was iti facing this to
OLENISTER did not wait long after his visitor's
U departure, but extinguished the light, locked the
door, and began the further adventures of this night.
The storm welcomed him with suffocating violence,
sucking the very breath from his lips, while the rain
beat through till his flesh was cold and aching. He
thought with a pang of the girl facing this tempest,
going out to meet the thousand perils of the night.
And it remained for him to bear his part as she bore
hers, smilingly.
The last hour had added another and mysterious
danger to his full measure. Could the Kid be jealous
of Cherry ? Surely not. Then what else?
The tornado had driven his trailers to cover, evi-
dently, for the streets were given over to its violence,
and Roy encountered no hostile sign as he was buffeted
from house to house. He adventured cautiously and
yet with haste, finding certain homes where the mar-
shals had been before him peopled now only by fright-
ened wives and children. A scattered few of the Vigi-
lantes had been taken thus, while the warring elements
had prevented their families from spreading the alarm
or venturing out for succor. Those whom he was able
to warn dressed hurriedly, took their rifles, and went
236


THE SPOILERS
in his chair smoking countless cigars, his big face set
in grim lines, his hard eyes peering through the pall of
blue at those he questioned. He worked the wires of
his machine until his dolls doubled and danced and
twisted at his touch. After a gusty interview he had
dismissed Voorhees with a merciless tongue - lashing,
raging bitterly at the man's failure.
“You're not fit to herd sheep. Thirty men out all
night and what do you get? A dozen mullet-headed
miners. You bag the mud - hens and the big game
runs to cover. I wanted Glenister, but you let him
slip through your fingers—now it's war. What a mess
you've made! If I had even one helper with a brain
the size of a flaxseed, this game would be a gift, but
you've bungled every move from the start. Bah! Put
a spy in the bull-pen with those prisoners and make
them talk. Offer them anything for information. Now
get out!”
He called for a certain deputy and questioned him
regarding the night's quest, remarking, finally:
“There's treachery somewhere. Those men were
warned.”
“Nobody came near Glenister's house except Miss
Chester," the man replied.
“What?”
"The Judge's niece. We caught her by mistake in
the dark.”
Later, one of the men who had been with Voorhees at
the Northern asked to see the receiver and told him:
“The chief won't believe that I saw Miss Chester in
the dance-hall last night, but she was there with Glen-
ister. She must have put him wise to our game or he
wouldn't have known we were after him."
238


WHEREIN A TRAP IS BAITED
His hearer made no comment, but, when alone, rose
and paced the floor with heavy tread while his face
grew savage and brutal.
“So that's the game, eh? It's man to man from
now on. Very well, Glenister, I'll have your life for
that, and then-you'll pay, Miss Helen.” He con-
sidered carefully. A plot for a plot. If he could not
swap intrigue with these miners and beat them badly,
he deserved to lose. Now that the girl gave herself to
their cause he would use her again and see how well
she answered. Public opinion would not stand too
great a strain, and, although he had acted within his
rights last night, he dared not go much further. Diplo-
macy, therefore, must serve. He must force his ene-
mies beyond the law and into his trap. She had passed
the word once; she would do so again.
He hurried to Stillman's house and stormed into the
presence of the Judge. He told the story so artfully
that the Judge's astonished unbelief yielded to rage and
cowardice, and he sent for his niece. She came down,
white and silent, having heard the loud voices. The
old man berated her with shrewish fury, while Mc-
Namara stood silent. The girl listened with entire self-
control until her uncle made a reference to Glenister
that she found intolerable.
“Hush! I will not listen!" she cried, passionately.
“I warned him because you would have sacrificed him
after he had saved our lives. That is all. He is an
honest man, and I am grateful to him. That is the
only foundation for your insult.”
McNamara, with apparent candor, broke in:
“You thought you were doing right, of course, but
your action will have terrible consequences. Now we'll
239


THE SPOILERS
have riot, bloodshed, and Heaven knows what. It was
to save all this that I wanted to break up their organi-
zation. A week's imprisonment would have done it,
but now they're armed and belligerent and we'll have
a battle to-night."
"No, no!" she cried. “There mustn't be any vio-
lence.”
"There is no use trying to check them. They are
rushing to their own destruction. I have learned that
they plan to attack the Midas to-night, and I'll have
fifty soldiers waiting for them there. It is a shame, for
they are decent fellows, blinded by ignorance and mis-
led by that young miner. This will be the blackest
night the North has ever seen.”
With this McNamara left the house and went in
search of Voorhees, remarking to himself: “Now, Miss
Helen-send your warning — the sooner the better.
If I know those Vigilantes, it will set them crazy, and
yet not crazy enough to attack the Midas. They will
strike for me, and when they hit my poor, unguarded
office, they'll think hell has moved North.”
“Mr. Marshal,” said he to his tool, “I want you to
gather forty men quietly and to arm them with Win-
chesters. They must be fellows who won't faint at
blood-you know the kind. Assemble them at my
office after dark, one at a time, by the back way. It
must be done with absolute secrecy. Now, see if you
can do this one thing and not get balled up. If you
fail, I'll make you answer to me."
“Why don't you get the troops ?" ventured Voor-
hees.
“If there's one thing I want to avoid, it's soldiers,
either here or at the mines. When they step in, we
240


WHEREIN A TRAP IS BAITED
step out, and I'm not ready for that just yet.” The
receiver smiled sinisterly.
Helen meanwhile had fled to her room, and there
received Glenister's note through Cherry Malotte's mes-
senger. It rekindled her worst fears and bore out Mc-
Namara's prophecy. The more she read of it the more
certain she grew that the crisis was only a question of
hours, and that with darkness, Tragedy would walk the
streets of Nome. The thought of the wrong already
done was lost in the lonely girl's terror of the crime
about to happen, for it seemed to her she had been the
instrument to set these forces in motion, that she had
loosed this swift-speeding avalanche of greed, hatred,
and brutality. And when the crash should come—the
girl shuddered. It must not be. She would shriek a
warning from the house-tops even at cost of her uncle,
of McNamara, and of herself. And yet she had no
proof that a crime existed. Although it all lay clear
in her own mind, the certainty of it arose only from her
intuition. If only she were able to take a hand-if
only she were not a woman. Then Cherry Malotte's
words anent Struve recurred to her, “A bottle of wine
and a woman's face.” They brought back the lawyer's
assurance that those documents she had safeguarded
all through the long spring-time journey really con-
tained the proof. If they did, then they held the power
to check this impending conflict. Her uncle and the
boss would not dare continue if threatened with ex-
posure and prosecution. The more she thought of it,
the more urgent seemed the necessity to prevent the
battle of to-night. There was a chance here, at least,
and the only one.
Adding to her mental torment was the constant
241


WHEREIN A TRAP IS BAITED
“But the papers ?"
“I'll have them with me. We'll start in an hour."
“In an hour,” she echoed, lifelessly, and left him.
He chuckled grimly and seized the telephone. “Cen-
tral — call the Sled road - house — seven rings on the
Snake River branch. Hello! That you, Shortz? This
is Struve. Anybody at the house? Good. Turn
them away if they come and say that you're closed.
None of your business. I'll be out about dark, so have
dinner for two. Spread yourself and keep the place
clear. Good-bye."
Strengthened by Glenister's note, Helen went straight
to the other woman and this time was not kept wait-
ing nor greeted with sneers, but found Cherry cloaked
in a shy dignity, which she clasped tightly about
herself. Under her visitor's incoherence she lost her
diffidence, however, and, when Helen had finished, re-
marked, with decision: “Don't go with him. He's a
bad man.”
“But I must. The blood of those men will be on me
if I don't stop this tragedy. If those papers tell the
tale I think they do, I can call off my uncle and
make McNamara give back the mines. You said
Struve told you the whole scheme. Did you see the
proof?”
“No, I have only his word, but he spoke of those
documents repeatedly, saying they contained his in-
structions to tie up the mines in order to give a foot-
hold for the lawsuits. He bragged that the rest of the
gang were in his power and that he could land them in
the penitentiary for conspiracy. That's all."
"It's the only chance," said Helen. “They are send-
ing soldiers to the Midas to lie in ambush, and you must
243


THE SPOILERS
them come to-morrow if they would. By that time
some of the mines would be ownerless and his position
strengthened a hundredfold.
He telephoned the mines to throw out guards, al-
though he reasoned that none but madmen would think
of striking there in the face of the warning which he
knew must have been transmitted through Helen.
Putting on his rain-coat he sought Stillman.
“Bring your niece over to my place to - night.
There's trouble in the air and I'm prepared for it."
“She hasn't returned from her ride yet. I'm afraid
she's caught in the storm.” The Judge gazed anxiously
into the darkness.
During all the long day the Vigilantes lay in hiding,
impatient at their idleness and wondering at the lack
of effort made towards their discovery, not dreaming
that McNamara had more cleverly hidden plans behind.
When Cherry's note of warning came they gathered in
the back room and gave voice to their opinions.
“There's only one way to clear the atmosphere,"
said the chairman.
“You bet,” chorussed the others. “They've garri-
soned the mines, so let's go through the town and make
a clean job of it. Let's hang the whole outfit to one
post.”
This met with general approval, Glenister alone de-
murring. Said he: “I have reasoned it out differently,
and I want you to hear me through before deciding.
Last night I got word from Wheaton that the California
courts are against us. He attributes it to influence, but,
whatever the reason, we are cut off from all legal help
either in this court or on appeal. Now, suppose we lynch
246


WHEREIN A TRAP IS BAITED
these officials to-night-what do we gain ? Martial law
in two hours, our mines tied up for another year, and
who knows what else? Maybe a corrupter court next
season. Suppose, on the other hand, we fail—and some-
how I feel that we will, for that boss is no fool. What
then? Those of us who don't find the morgue will end
in jail. You say we can't meet the soldiers. I say we
can and must. We must carry this row to them. We
must jump it past the courts of Alaska, past the courts
of California, and up to the White House, where there's
one honest man, at least. We must do something to
wake up the men in Washington. We must get out of
politics, for McNamara can beat us there. Although
he's a strong man he can't corrupt the President. We
have one shot left, and it must reach the Potomac.
When Uncle Sam takes a hand we'll get a square deal,
so I say let us strike at the Midas to-night and take her
if we can. Some of us will go down, but what of it?"
Following this harangue, he outlined a plan which
in its unique daring took away their breaths, and as he
filled in detail after detail they brightened with excite-
ment and that love of the long chance which makes
gamblers of those who thread the silent valleys or
tread the edge of things. His boldness stirred them
and enthusiasm did the rest.
"All I want for myself," he said, “is the chance to
run the big risk. It's mine by right."
Dextry spoke, breathlessly, to Slapjack in the pause
which ensued:
"Ain't he a heller?"
“We'll go you," the miners chimed to a man. And
the chairman added: “Let's have Glenister lead this
forlorn hope. I am willing to stand or fall on his judg-
247


CHAPTER XIX
DYNAMITE
CARLY in the evening Cherry Malotte opened her
door to find the Bronco Kid on her step. He
entered and threw off his rubber coat. Knowing him
well, she waited for his disclosure of his errand. His
sallow skin was without trace of color, his eyes were
strangely tired, deep lines had gathered about his lips,
while his hands kept up constant little nervous ex-
plorations as though for days and nights he had not
slept and now hovered on the verge of some hysteria.
He gave her the impression of a smouldering mine with
the fire eating close up to the powder. She judged
that his body had been racked by every passion till
now it hung jaded and weary, yielding only to the spur
of his restless, revengeful spirit.
After a few objectless remarks, he began, abruptly:
"Do you love Roy Glenister?” His voice, like his
manner, was jealously eager, and he watched her care-
fully as she replied, without quibble or deceit:
“Yes, Kid; and I always shall. He is the only true
man I have ever known, and I'm not ashamed of my
feelings."
For a long time he studied her, and then broke into
rapid speech, allowing her no time for interruption.
"I've held back and held back because I'm no
249


DYNAMITE
“You say you love me. Very well— let's see if you
do. I know the kind of a man you are and I know
what this feud will mean to him, coming just at this
time. Put it aside and I'll marry you."
The gambler rose slowly to his feet. “You do love
him, don't you?” She bowed her face, and he winced,
but continued: “I wouldn't make you my wife that
way. I didn't mean it that way.”
At this she laughed bitterly. “Oh, I see. Of course
not. How foolish of me to expect it of a man like you.
I understand what you mean now, and the bargain will
stand just the same, if that is what you came for. I
wanted to leave this life and be good, to go away and
start over and play the game square, but I see it's no
use. I'll pay. I know how relentless you are, and the
price is low enough. You can have me—and that,
marriage talk-I'll not speak of again. I'll stay what
I am for his sake."
"Stop!" cried the Kid. “You're wrong. I'm not
that kind of a sport.” His voice broke suddenly, its
vehemence shaking his slim body. “Oh, Cherry, I
love you the way a man ought to love a woman. It's
one of the two good things left in me, and I want to
take you away from here where we can both hide from
the past, where we can start new, as you say.”
“You would marry me?” she asked.
“In an hour, and give my heart's blood for the
privilege; but I can't stop this thing, not even if your
own dear life hung upon it. I must kill that man."
She approached him and laid her arms about his
neck, every line of her body pleading, but he refused
steadfastly, while the sweat stood out upon his brow.
She begged: “They're all against him, Kid. He's
17
251


THE SPOILERS
fighting a hopeless fight. He laid all he had at that
girl's feet, and I'll do the same for you.”
The man growled savagely. “He got his reward.
He took all she had~"
“Don't be a fool. I guess I know. You're a faro-
dealer, but you haven't any right to talk like that about
a good woman, even to a bad one like me."
Into his dark eyes slowly crept a hungry look, and
she felt him begin to tremble the least bit. He under-
took to speak, paused, wet his lips, then carefully chose
these words:
“Do you mean—that he did not—that she is a
good girl ?”
"Absolutely."
He sat down weakly and passed a shaking hand over
his face, which had begun to twitch and jerk again as
it had on that night when his vengeance was thwarted.
"I may as well tell you that I know she's more than
that. She's honest and high-principled. I don't know
why I'm saying this, but it was on my mind and I was
half distracted when you came. She's in danger to-
night, though—at this minute. I don't dare to think
of what may have happened, for she's risked everything
to make reparation to Roy and his friends."
“What?”
"She's gone to the Sign of the Sled alone with Struve."
“Struve!” shouted the gambler, leaping to his feet.
"Alone with Struve on a night like this?" He shook
her fiercely, crying: “What for? Tell me quick!"
She recounted the reasons for Helen's adventure,
while the man's face became terrible.
“Oh, Kid, I am to blame for letting her go. Why
did I do it? I'm afraid-afraid."
252


DYNAMITE
don't stawa ke up. Can
sit of his stupor ot in
“The Sign of the Sied belongs to Struve, and the
fellow who runs it is a rogue." The Bronco looked at
the clock, his eyes bloodshot and dull like those of a
goaded, fly-maddened bull. “It's eight o'clock now
ten miles-two hours. Too late!"
“What ails you ?" she questioned, baffled by his
strange demeanor. “You called me the one woman
just now, and yet-"
He swung towards her heavily. “She's my sister."
“Your-sister? Oh, I-I'm glad. I'm glad—but
don't stand there like a wooden man, for you've work
to do. Wake up. Can't you hear? She's in peril!"
Her words whipped him out of his stupor so that he
drew himself somewhat under control. “Get into your
coat. Hurry! Hurry! My pony will take you there."
She snatched his garment from the chair and held it
for him while the life ran back into his veins. Togeth-
er they dashed out into the storm as she and Roy had
done, and as he flung the saddle on the buckskin, she
said:
“I understand it all now. You heard the talk about
her and Glenister; but it's wrong. I lied and schemed
and intrigued against her, but it's over now. I guess
there's a little streak of good in me somewhere, after
all.”
He spoke to her from the saddle. “It's more than
a streak, Cherry, and you're my kind of people." She
smiled wanly back at him under the lantern-light.
“That's left-handed, Kid. I don't want to be your
kind. I want to be his kind-or your sister's kind."
Upon leaving the rendezvous, Glenister and his two
friends slunk through the night, avoiding the life and
253


THE SPOILERS
lights of the town, while the wind surged out of the
voids to seaward, driving its wet burden through their
flapping slickers, pelting their faces as though enraged
at its failure to wash away the purposes written there.
Their course brought them to a cabin at the western
outskirts of the city, where they paused long enough
to adjust something beneath the brims of their hats.
Past them ran the iron rails of the narrow-gauged road
which led out across the quaking tundra to the moun-
tains and the mines. Upon this slender trail of steel
there rolled one small, ungainly teapot of an engine
which daily creaked and clanked back and forth at a
snail's pace, screaming and wailing its complaint of the
two high-loaded flat-cars behind. The ties beneath it
were spiked to planks laid lengthwise over the semi-
liquid road-bed, in places sagging beneath the surface
till the humpbacked, short-waisted locomotive yawed
and reeled and squealed like a drunken fish-wife. At
night it panted wearily into the board station and
there sighed and coughed and hissed away its fatigue
as the coals died and the breath relaxed in its
lungs.
Early to bed and early to rise was perforce the motto
of its grimy crew, who lived near by. To-night they
were just retiring when stayed by a summons at their
door. The engineer opened it to admit what appeared
to his astonished eyes to be a Krupp cannon propelled
by a man in yellow-oiled clothes and white cotton mask.
This weapon assumed the proportions of a great, one-
eyed monster, which stared with baleful fixity at his
vitals, giving him a cold and empty feeling. Away
back beyond this Cyclops of the Sightless Orb were two
other strangers likewise equipped.
254


DYNAMITE
The fireman arose from his chair, dropping an empty
shoe with a thump, but, being of the West, without
cavil or waste of wind, he stretched his hands above his
head, balancing on one foot to keep his unshod member
from the damp floor. He had unbuckled his belt, and
now, loosened by the movement, his overalls seemed
bent on sinking floorward in an ecstasy of abashment
at the intrusion, whereupon with convulsive grip he
hugged them to their duty, one hand and foot still
elevated as though in the grand hailing-sign of some
secret order. The other man was new to the ways of
the North, so backed to the limit of his quarters, laid
both hands protectingly upon his middle, and doubled
up, remarking, fervidly:
“Don't point that damn thing at my stomach."
“Ha, ha!” laughed the fireman, with unnatural loud-
ness. “Have your joke, boys.”
“This ain't no joke," said the foremost figure, its
breath bellying out the mask at its mouth.
"Sure it is,” insisted the shoeless one. “Must be-
we ain't got anything worth stealing.”
"Get into your clothes and come along. We won't
hurt you.” The two obeyed and were taken to the
sleeping engine and there instructed to produce a full
head of steam in thirty minutes or suffer a premature
taking off and a prompt elision from the realms of
applied mechanics. As stimulus to their efforts two of
the men stood over them till the engine began to sob
and sigh reluctantly. Through the gloom that cur-
tained the cab they saw other dim forms materializing
and climbing silently on to the cars behind; then, as the
steam-gauge touched the mark, the word was given and
the train rumbled out from its shelter, its shrill plaint at
255


THE SPOILERS
“No, I don't aim to mingle with no higher civiliza-
tion than I got in 'Frisco. I use that word 'higher'
like it was applied to meat. Not that I wouldn't seem
apropos. I'm stylish enough for Fifth Avenue or any-
wheres, but I like the West. Speakin' of modes an'
styles, when I get all lit up in that gray woosted suit of
mine, I guess I make the jaded sight-seers set up an'
take notice-eh? Somethin' doin' every minute in the
cranin' of necks—what? Nothin' gaudy, but the acme
of neatness an' form, as the feller said who sold it to
me."
Their common peril brought the friends together
again, into that close bond which had been theirs with-
out interruption until this recent change in the younger
had led him to choose paths at variance with the old
man's ideas; and now they spoke, heart to heart, in
the half-serious, half-jesting ways of old, while beneath
each whimsical irony was that mutual love and under-
standing which had consecrated their partnership.
Arriving at the end of the road, the Vigilantes de-
bouched and went into the darkness of the cañon
behind their leader, to whom the trails were familiar.
He bade them pause finally, and gave his last instruc-
tions.
“They are on the alert, so you want to be careful.
Divide into two parties and close in from both sides,
creeping as near to the pickets as possible without dis-
covery. Remember to wait for the last blast. When
it comes, cut loose and charge like Sioux. Don't shoot
to kill at first, for they're only soldiers and under orders,
but if they stand-well, every man must do his work."
Dextry appealed to the dim figures forming the
circle.
258


DYNAMITE
"I leave it to you, gents, if it ain't better for me to
go inside than for the boy. I've had more experience
with giant powder, an' I'm so blamed used up an'near
gone it wouldn't hurt if they did get me, while he's
right in his prime—"
Glenister stopped him. “I won't yield the privilege.
Come now-to your places, men."
They melted away to each side while the old pros-
pector paused to wring his partner's hand.
“I'd ruther it was me, lad, but if they get you—God
help 'em!” He stumbled after the departing shadows,
leaving Roy alone. With his naked fingers, Glenister
ripped open the powder cases and secreted the contents
upon his person. Each cartridge held dynamite enough
to devastate a village, and he loaded them inside his
pockets, inside his shirt, and everywhere that he had
room, till he was burdened and cased in an armor one-
hundredth part of which could have blown him from
the face of the earth so utterly as to leave no trace
except, perhaps, a pit ripped out of the mountain-side.
He looked to his fuses and saw that they were wrapped
in oiled paper, then placed them in his hat. Having
finished, he set out, walking with difficulty under the
weight he carried.
That his choice of location had been well made was
evidenced by the fact that the ground beneath his feet
sloped away to a basin out of which bubbled a spring.
It furnished the drinking supply of the Midas, and he
knew every inch of the crevice it had worn down the
mountain, so felt his way cautiously along. At the
bottom of the hill where it ran out upon the level it had
worn a considerable ditch through the soil, and into
this he crawled on hands and knees. His bulging
259


THE SPOILERS
than we were before, and our biggest fight is coming.
There's a chance to get away now before daylight and
before we're recognized, but if we're seen here at sun-
up we'll have to stay and fight. Soldiers will be sent
against us, but if we hold out, and the struggle is fierce
enough, it may reach to Washington. This will be a
different kind of fighting now, though. It will be war-
fare pure and simple. How many of you will stick?"
"All of us," said they, in unison, and, accordingly,
preparations for a siege were begun. Barricades were
built, ruins removed, buildings transformed into block-
houses, and all through the turbulent night the tired
men labored till ready to drop, led always by the young
giant, who seemed without fatigue.
It was perhaps four hours after midnight when a
man sought him out.
“Somebody's callin' you on the Assay Office tele-
phone-says it's life or death.”
Glenister hurried to the building, which had escaped
the shock of the explosions, and, taking down the re-
ceiver, was answered by Cherry Malotte.
“Thank God, you're safe,” she began. “The men
have just come in and the whole town is awake over
the riot. They say you've killed ten people in the
fight-is it true?”
He explained to her briefly that all was well, but she
broke in:
“Wait, wait! McNamara has called for troops and
you'll all be shot. Oh, what a terrible night it has
been! I haven't been to bed. I'm going mad. Now,
listen, carefully-yesterday Helen went with Struve to
the Sign of the Sled and she hasn't come back."
The man at the end of the wire cried out at this,
266


THREE GO AND BUT TWO RETURN
too wildly; but Struve, more arrogant than ever be-
fore, more terrifyingly sure of himself, was loudly gar-
rulous. As they drew nearer and nearer, the dread
that possessed the girl became of paralyzing intensity.
If she should fail—but she vowed she would not, could
not, fail.
They rounded a bend and saw the Sign of the Sled
cradled below them where the trail dipped to a stream
which tumbled from the comb above into the river
twisting like a silver thread through the distant val-
ley. A peeled flag - pole topped by a spruce bough
stood in front of the tavern, while over the door hung
a sled suspended from a beam. The house itself was
a quaint structure, rambling and amorphous, from
whose sod roof sprang blooming flowers, and whose
high-banked walls were pierced here and there with
sleepy windows. It had been built by a homesick
foreigner of unknown nationality whom the army of
"mushers" who paid for his clean and orderly hos-
pitality had dubbed duly and as a matter of course
a "Swede." When travel had changed to the river
trail, leaving the house lonesome and high as though
left by a receding wave, Struve had taken it over on a
debt, and now ran it for the convenience of a slender
traffic, mainly stampeders, who chose the higher route
towards the interior. His hireling spent the idle hours
in prospecting a hungry quartz lead and in doing assess-
ment work on near-by claims.
Shortz took the horses and answered his employer's
questions curtly, flashing a curious look at Helen.
Under other conditions the girl would have been de-
lighted with the place, for this was the quaintest spot
she had found in the north country. The main room
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THREE GO AND BUT TWO RETURN
Don't spoil our little party, for there's time enough and
to spare."
She arose and went to the window, unable to sit
still. Looking down the narrow gulch she saw that the
mountains beyond were indistinct for it was growing
dark rapidly. Dense clouds had rolled up from the
east. A rain-drop struck the glass before her eyes, then
another and another, and the hills grew misty behind
the coming shower. A traveller with a pack on his
back hurried around the corner of the building and past
her to the door. At his knock, Struve, who had been
watching Helen through half-shut eyes, arose and went
into the other room.
“Thank Heaven, some one has come,” she thought.
The voices were deadened to a hum by the sod walls,
till that of the stranger raised itself in such indignant
protest that she distinguished his words.
“Oh, I've got money to pay my way. I'm no dead-
head.”
Shortz mumbled something back.
"I don't care if you are closed. I'm tired and there's
a storm coming.".
This time she heard the landlord's refusal and the
miner's angry profanity. A moment later she saw the
traveller plodding up the trail towards town.
“What does that mean?" she inquired, as the lawyer
re-entered.
“Oh, that fellow is a tough, and Shortz wouldn't let
him in. He's careful whom he entertains—there are
so many bad men roaming the hills.”
The German came in shortly to light the lamp, and,
although she asked no further questions, Helen's un-
easiness increased. She half listened to the stories with
271


THE SPOILERS
which Struve tried to entertain her and ate little of the
excellent meal that was shortly served to them. Struve,
meanwhile, ate and drank almost greedily, and the
shadowy, sinister evening crept along. A strange cow-
ardice had suddenly overtaken the girl, and if, at this
late hour, she could have withdrawn, she would have
done so gladly and gone forth to meet the violence of the
tempest. But she had gone too far for retreat; and
realizing that, for the present, apparent compliance was
her wisest resource, she sat quiet, answering the man
with cool words while his eyes grew brighter, his skin
more flushed, his speech more rapid. He talked in-
cessantly and with feverish gayety, smoking numberless
cigarettes and apparently unconscious of the flight of
time. At last he broke off suddenly and consulted his
watch, while Helen remembered that she had not heard
Shortz in the kitchen for a long time. Suddenly Struve
smiled on her peculiarly, with confident cunning. As
he leered at her over the disorder between them he
took from his pocket a flat bundle which he tossed to
her.
“Now for the bargain, eh?"
"Ask the man to remove these dishes,” she said, as
she undid the parcel with clumsy fingers.
"I sent him away two hours ago," said Struve, aris-
ing as if to come to her. She shrank back, but he only
leaned across, gathered up the four corners of the table-
cloth, and, twisting them together, carried the whole
thing out, the dishes crashing and jangling as he threw
his burden recklessly into the kitchen. Then he re-
turned and stood with his back to the stove, staring at
her while she perused the contents of the papers, which
were more voluminous than she had supposed.
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THREE GO AND BUT TWO RETURN
I've played to win. You have your proof-now I'll
have my price-or else I'll take it. Think over which
it will be, while I lock up."
Far down the mountain-side a man was urging a
broken pony recklessly along the trail. The beast was
blown and spent, its knees weak and bending, yet the
rider forced it as though behind him yelled a thousand
devils, spurring headlong through gully and ford, up
steep slopes and down invisible ravines. Sometimes
the animal stumbled and fell with its master, sometimes
they arose together, but the man was heedless of all
except his haste, insensible to the rain which smote him
blindingly, and to the wind which seized him savagely
upon the ridges, or gasped at him in the gullies with
exhausted malice. At last he gained the plateau and
saw the road-house light beneath, so drove his heels
into the flanks of the wind - broken creature, which
lunged forward gamely. He felt the pony rear and
drop away beneath him, pawing and scrambling, and
instinctively kicked his feet free from the stirrups,
striving to throw himself out of the saddle and clear
of the thrashing hoofs. It seemed that he turned over
in the air before something smote him and he lay still,
his gaunt, dark face upturned to the rain, while
about him the storm screamed exultantly.
The moment Struve disappeared into the outer room
Helen darted to the window. It was merely a single
sash, nailed fast and immovable, but seizing one of the
little stools beside the stove she thrust it through
the glass, letting in a smother of wind and water.
Before she could escape, Struve bounded into the
275


THE SPOILERS
room, his face livid with anger, his voice hoarse and
furious.
But as he began to denounce her he paused in amaze-
ment, for the girl had drawn Cherry's weapon and
levelled it at him. She was very pale and her breast
heaved as from a swift run, while her wondrous gray
eyes were lit with a light no man had ever seen there
before, glowing like two jewels whose hearts contained
the pent-up passion of centuries. She had altered as
though under the deft hand of a master-sculptor, her
nostrils growing thin and arched, her lips tight pressed
and pitiless, her head poised proudly. The rain drove
in through the shattered window, over and past her,
while the cheap red curtain lashed and whipped her as
though in gleeful applause. Her bitter abhorrence of
the man made her voice sound strangely unnatural as
she commanded:
“Don't dare to stop me.” She moved towards
the door, motioning him to retreat before her, and
he obeyed, recognizing the danger of her coolness.
She did not note the calculating treachery of his
glance, however, nor fathom the purposes he had in
mind.
Out on the rain-swept mountain the prostrate rider
had regained his senses and now was crawling painfully
towards the road-house. Seen through the dark he
would have resembled some misshapen, creeping mon-
ster, for he dragged himself, reptile-like, close to the
ground. But as he came closer the man heard a cry
which the wind seemed guarding from his ear, and,
hearing it, he rose and rushed blindly forward, stagger-
ing like a wounded beast.
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THREE GO AND BUT TWO RETURN
Helen watched her captive closely as he backed
through the door before her, for she dared not lose
sight of him until free. The middle room was lighted
by a glass lamp on the bar and its rays showed that
the front-door was secured by a large iron bolt. She
thanked Heaven there was no lock and key.
Struve had retreated until his back was to the
counter, offering no word, making no move, but the
darting brightness of his eyes showed that he was alert
and planning. But when the door behind Helen, urged
by the wind through the broken casement, banged to,
the man made his first lightning-like sign. He dashed
the lamp to the floor, where it burst like an egg-
shell, and darkness leaped into the room as an ani-
mal pounces. Had she been calmer or had time for
an instant's thought Helen would have hastened back
to the light, but she was midway to her liberty and
actuated by the sole desire to break out into the open
air, so plunged forward. Without warning, she was
hurled from her feet by a body which came out of the
darkness upon her. She fired the little gun, but
Struve's arms closed about her, the weapon was
wrenched from her hand, and she found herself fighting
against him, breast to breast, with the fury of despera-
tion. His wine-burdened breath beat into her face and
she felt herself bound to him as though by hoops, while
the touch of his cheek against hers turned her into a
terrified, insensate animal, which fought with every
ounce of its strength and every nerve of its body. She
screamed once, but it was not like the cry of a woman.
Then the struggle went on in silence and utter black-
ness, Struve holding her like a gorilla till she grew
faint and her head began to whirl, while darting lights
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THREE GO AND BUT TWO RETURN
conced no shock at the spectavard, star
so, the contrary, a still, leaning sligh till she hea
so, she experienced no shock nor horror of the sight.
On the contrary, a savage joy at the spectacle seized
her and she stood still, leaning slightly forward, star-
ing at it almost gloatingly, stood so till she heard her
name called, “Helen, little sister!” and, turning, saw
her brother in the window.
That which he witnessed in her face he had seen
before in the faces of men locked close with a hate-
ful death and from whom all but the most elemental
passions had departed—but he had never seen a wom-
an bear the marks till now. No artifice nor falsity
was there, nothing but the crudest, intensest feeling,
which many people live and die without knowing.
There are few who come to know the great primitive,
passionate longings. But in this black night, fighting
in defence of her most sacred self, this girl's nature had
been stripped to its purely savage elements. As Glen-
ister had predicted, Helen at last had felt and yielded
to irresistibly powerful impulse.
Glancing backward at the creature sprawled by the
door, Helen went to her brother, put her arms about
his neck, and kissed him.
“He's dead?”' the Kid asked her.
She nodded and tried to speak, but began to shiver
and sob instead.
“Unlock the door,” he begged her. “I'm hurt, and
I must get in.”
When the Kid had hobbled into the room, she pressed
him to her and stroked his matted head, regardless of
his muddy, soaking garments.
"I must look at him. He may not be badly hurt,"
said the Kid.
“Don't touch him!" She followed, nevertheless,
II
IU.
279


THE SPOILERS
and stood near by while her brother examined his
victim. Struve was breathing, and, discovering this,
the others lifted him with difficulty to the couch.
"Something cracked in here-ribs, I guess,” the Kid
remarked, gasping and feeling his own side. He was
weak and pale, and the girl led him into the bunk-room,
where he could lie down. Only his wonderful deter-
mination had sustained him thus far, and now the
knowledge of his helplessness served to prevent Helen's
collapse.
The Kid would not hear of her going for help till
the storm abated or daylight came, insisting that the
trails were too treacherous and that no time could be
saved by doing so. Thus they waited for the dawn.
At last they heard the wounded man faintly calling.
He spoke to Helen hoarsely. There was no malice,
only fear, in his tones:
“I said this was my madness and I got what I
deserved, but I'm going to die. O God—I'm going to
die and I'm afraid." He moaned till the Bronco Kid
hobbled in, glaring with unquenched hatred.
“Yes, you're going to die and I did it. Be game,
can't you? I sha'n't let her go for help until day-
light.”
Helen forced her brother back to his couch, and re-
turned to help the wounded man, who grew incoherent
and began to babble.
A little later, when the Kid seemed stronger and his
head clearer, Helen ventured to tell him of their uncle's
villany and of the proof she held, with her hope of re-
storing justice. She told him of the attack planned
that very night and of the danger which threatened the
miners. He questioned her closely and, realizing the
280


THE SPOILERS
loudly, but, receiving no answer, snatched a light which
he found burning and ran to the door at his left. Noth-
ing greeted him but the empty tiers of bunks. Turn-
ing. he crossed to the other side and burst through,
Another lamp was lighted beside the couch where
Struve lay, breathing heavily, his lids half closed
over his staring eyes. Roy noted the pool of blood
at his feet and the broken window; then, setting
down his lamp, he leaned over the man and spoke to
him.
When he received no answer he spoke again loudly.
Then, in a frenzy, Glenister shook the wounded man
cruelly, so that he cried out in terror:
"I'm dying-oh, I'm dying.” Roy raised the sick
man up and thrust his own face before his eyes.
“This is Glenister. I've come for Helen-where is
she?" A spark of recognition flickered into the dull
stare.
“You're too late- I'm dying-and I'm afraid."
His questioner shook Struve again. “Where is she?"
he repeated, time after time, till by very force of his
own insistence he compelled realization in the suf-
ferer.
"The Kid took her away. The Kid shot me," and
then his voice rose till it flooded the room with terror.
"The Kid shot me and I'm dying.” He coughed blood
to his lips, at which Roy laid him back and stood up.
So there was no mistake, after all, and he had arrived
too late. This was the Kid's revenge. This was how
he struck. Lacking courage to face a man's level eyes,
he possessed the foulness to prey upon a woman. Roy
felt a weakening physical sickness sweep over him till
his eye fell upon a sodden garment which Helen had
282


THREE GO AND BUT TWO RETURN
removed from her brother's shoulders and replaced
with a dry one. He snatched it from the floor and in
a sudden fury felt it come apart in his hands like wet
tissue-paper.
He found himself out in the rain, scanning the
trampled soil by light of his lamp, and discerned tracks
which the drizzle had not yet erased. He reasoned me-
chanically that the two riders could have no great start
of him, so strode out beyond the house to see if they had
gone farther into the hills. There were no tracks here,
therefore they must have doubled back towards town.
It did not occur to him that they might have left the
beaten path and followed down the little creek to the
river; but, replacing the light where he had found it, he
remounted and lashed his horse into a stiff canter up
towards the divide that lay between him and the city.
The story was growing plainer to him, though as yet
he could not piece it all together. Its possibilities
stabbed him with such horror that he cried out aloud
and beat his steed into faster time with both hands
and feet. To think of those two ruffians fighting over
this girl as though she were the spoils of pillage! He
must overtake the Kid-he would! The possibility
that he might not threw him into such ungovernable
mental chaos that he was forced to calm himself.
Men went mad that way. He could not think of it.
That gasping creature in the road-house spoke all too
well of the Bronco's determination. And yet, who of
those who had known the Kid in the past would dream
that his vileness was so utter as this?
Away to the right, hidden among the shadowed hills,
his friends rested themselves for the coming battle,
waiting impatiently his return, and timing it to the
19
283


THE HAMMER-LOCK
quested him to accoutre a troop and have them ready
to march at daylight, then bestirred the Judge to start
the wheels of his court and invoke this military aid in
regular fashion.
“Make it all a matter of record,” he said. “We
want to keep our skirts clear from now on."
“But the towns-people are against us," quavered
Stillman. "They'll tear us to pieces."
“Let 'em try. Once I get my hand on the ring-
leader, the rest may riot and be damned.”
Although he had made less display than had the
Judge, the receiver was no less deeply worried about
Helen, of whom no news came. His jealousy, fanned to
red heat by the discovery of her earlier defection, was
enhanced fourfold by the thought of this last adventure.
Something told him there was treachery afoot, and when
she did not return at dawn he began to fear that she
had cast in her lot with the rioters. This aroused a per-
fect delirium of doubt and anger till he reasoned fur-
ther that Struve, having gone with her, must also be a
traitor. He recognized the menace in this fact, know-
ing the man's venality, so began to reckon carefully its
significance. What could Struve do? What proof had
he? McNamara started, and, seizing his hat, hurried
straight to the lawyer's office and let himself in with the
key he carried. It was light enough for him to decipher
the characters on the safe lock as he turned the com-
bination, so he set to work scanning the endless bundles
within, hoping that after all the man had taken with
him no incriminating evidence. Once the searcher
paused at some fancied sound, but when nothing came
of it drew his revolver and laid it before him just in-
side the safe door and close beneath his hand, continu-
289


THE SPOILERS
ing to run through the documents while his uneasiness
increased. He had been engaged so for some time
when he heard the faintest creak at his back, too
slight to alarm and just sufficient to break his tension
and cause him to jerk his head about. Framed in the
open door stood Roy Glenister watching him.
McNamara's astonishment was so genuine that he
leaped to his feet, faced about, and prompted by a se-
cretive instinct swung to the safe door as though to
guard its contents. He had acted upon the impulse
before realizing that his weapon was inside and that
now, although the door was not locked, it would
require that one dangerous, yes, fatal, second to
open it.
The two men stared at each other for a time, silent
and malignant, their glances meeting like blades; in
the older man's face a look of defiance, in the younger's
a dogged and grim-purposed enmity. McNamara's first
perturbation left him calm, alert, dangerous; whereas
the continued contemplation of his enemy worked in
Glenister to destroy his composure, and his purpose
blazed forth unhidden.
He stood there unkempt and soiled, the clean sweep
of jaw and throat overgrown with a three days' black
stubble, his hair wet and matted, his whole left side
foul with clay where he had fallen in the darkness.
A muddy red streak spread downward from a cut
above his temple, beneath his eyes were sagging folds,
while the flicker at his mouth corners betrayed the
high nervous pitch to which he was keyed.
“I have come for the last act, McNamara; now we'll
have it out, man to man.”.
The politician shrugged his shoulders. “You have
290


THE HAMMER-LOCK
the drop on me. I am unarmed.” At which the
miner's face lighted fiercely and he chuckled.
“Ah, that's almost too good to be true. I have
dreamed about such a thing and I have been hungry
to feel your throat since the first time I saw you. It's
grown on me till shooting wouldn't satisfy me. Ever
had the feeling? Well, I'm going to choke the life out
of you with my bare hands."
McNamara squared himself.
“I wouldn't advise you to try it. I have lived longer
than you and I was never beaten, but I know the feeling
you speak about. I have it now.”
His eyes roved rapidly up and down the other's
form, noting the lean thighs and close - drawn belt
which lent the appearance of spareness, belied only
by the neck and shoulders. He had beaten better
men, and he reasoned that if it came to a physical
test in these cramped quarters his own great weight
would more than offset any superior agility the miner
might possess. The longer he looked the more he
yielded to his hatred of the man before him, and the
more cruelly he longed to satisfy it.
"Take off your coat,” said Glenister. “Now turn
around. All right! I just wanted to see if you were
lying about your gun.”
“I'll kill you,” cried McNamara.
Glenister laid his six - shooter upon the safe and
slipped off his own wet garment. The difference was
more marked now and the advantage more strongly
with the receiver. Though they had avoided allusion
to it, each knew that this fight had nothing to do
with the Midas and each realized whence sprang their
fierce enmity. And it was meet that they should
291


THE HAMMER-LOCK
of its steed, its face writhed into lines of suffering, its
hands clutching cantle and horn.
It was as though Fate, with invisible touch, were
setting her stage for the last act of this play, assembling
the principals close to the Golden Sands where first they
had made entrance to the cor
The man and the girl came face to face with the Judge
and marshal, who cried out upon seeing them, but as
they reined in, out from the stairs beside them a man
shot amid clatter and uproar.
“Give me a hand-quick!” he shouted to them.
“What's up?" inquired the marshal.
“It's murder! McNamara and Glenister!" He dashed
back up the steps behind Voorhees, the Judge follow-
ing, while muffled cries came from above.
The gambler turned towards the three men who were
hurrying from the beach, and, recognizing Wheaton,
called to him: "Untie my feet! Cut the ropes! Quick!"
'“What's the trouble?" the lawyer asked, but on hear-
ing Glenister's name bounded after the Judge, leaving
one of his companions to free the rider. They could
hear the fight now, and all crowded towards the door,
Helen with her brother, in spite of his warning to stay
behind.
She never remembered how she climbed those stairs,
for she was borne along by that hypnotic power which
drags one to behold a catastrophe in spite of his will.
Reaching the room, she stood appalled; for the group
she had joined watched two raging things that rushed
at each other with inhuman cries, ragged, bleeding,
fighting on a carpet of débris. Every loose and break-
able thing had been ground to splinters as though by
iron slugs in a whirling cylinder,
295


THE SPOILERS
To this day, from Dawson to the Straits, from Unga
to the Arctics, men tell of the combat wherever they
foregather at flaring camp - fires or in dingy bunk-
houses; and although some scout the tale, there are
others who saw it and can swear to its truth. These
say that the encounter was like the battle of bull
moose in the rutting season, though more terrible,
averring that two men like these had never been
known in the land since the days of Vitus Bering and
his crew; for their rancor had swollen till at feel of
each other's flesh they ran mad and felt superhuman
strength. It is true, at any rate, that neither was con-
scious of the filling room, nor the cries of the crowd,
even when the marshal forced himself through the
wedged door and fell upon the nearest, which was Glen-
ister. He came at an instant when the two had paused
at arm's-length, glaring with rage-drunken eyes, gasp-
ing the labored breath back into their lungs.
With a fling of his long arms the young man hurled
the intruder aside so violently that his head struck the
iron safe and he collapsed insensible. Then, without
apparent notice of the interruption, the fight went on.
It was seen during this respite that McNamara's mouth
was running water as though he were deathly sick,
while every retch brought forth a groan. Helen heard
herself crying: “Stop them! Stop them!" But no one
seemed capable of interference. She heard her brother
muttering and his breath coming heavily like that of
the fighters, his body swaying in time to theirs. The
Judge was ashy, imbecile, helpless.
McNamara's distress was patent to his antagonist,
who advanced upon him with the hunger of promised
victory; but the young man's muscles obeyed his com-
296


THE SPOILERS
was unconscious before the lawyer had covered him
over.
There he lay like a dead man till late in the after-
noon, when Dextry and Slapjack came in from the hills,
answering Wheaton's call, and fell upon him hungrily.
They shook Roy into consciousness with joyous riot,
pommelling him with affectionate roughness till he rose
and joined with them stiffly. He bathed and rubbed
the soreness from his muscles, emerging physically fit.
They made him recount his adventures to the tiniest de-
tail, following his description of the fight with absorbed
interest till Dextry broke into mournful complaint:
“I'd have give my half of the Midas to see you bust
him. Lord, I'd have screeched with soopreme delight
at that.”
"Why didn't you gouge his eyes out when you had
him crippled ?" questioned Slapjack, vindictively. “I'd
'a' done it."
Dextry continued: “They tell me that when he was
arrested he swore in eighteen different languages, each
one more refreshin'ly repulsive an' vig'rous than the
precedin'. Oh, I have sure missed a-plenty to-day,
partic'lar because my own diction is gettin' run down
an' skim-milky of late, showin' sad lack of new idees.
Which I might have assim'lated somethin' robustly
original an' expressive if I'd been here. No, sir; a
nose-bag full of nuggets wouldn't have kept me away."
“How did it sound when she busted ?" insisted the
morbid Simms, but Glenister refused to discuss his
combat.
"Come on, Slap," said the old prospector, "let's go
down-town. I'm so het up I can't set still, an' besides,
mebbe we can get the story the way it really happened,
304


THE SPOILERS
bers writhelemy i didn't the road
stand I couldn't let her know. All I can say is, I've
gambled square till the night I played you, and I was
as mad as a dervish then, blaming you for the talk I'd
heard. Last night I learned by chance about Struve
and Helen and got to the road-house in time to save
her. I'm sorry I didn't kill him." His long white fin-
gers writhed about the arm of his chair at the memory.
“Isn't he dead ?" Glenister inquired.
"No. The doctors have brought him in and he'll
get well. He's like half the men in Alaska-here be-
cause the sheriffs back home couldn't shoot straight.
There's something else. I'm not a good talker, but
give me time and I'll manage it so you'll understand.
I tried to keep Helen from coming on this errand, but
she said it was the square thing and she knows better
than I. It's about those papers she brought in last
spring. She was afraid you might consider her a party
to the deal, but you don't, do you?" He glared bel-
ligerently, and Roy replied, with fervor:
“Certainly not. Go on."
"Well, she learned the other day that those docu-
ments told the whole story and contained enough proof
to break up this conspiracy and convict the Judge and
McNamara and all the rest, but Struve kept the bundle
in his safe and wouldn't give it up without a price.
That's why she went away with him, She thought
it was right, and—that's all. But it seems Wheaton
had succeeded in another way. Now, I'm coming to
the point. The Judge and McNamara are arrested for
contempt of court and they're as good as convicted;
you have recovered your mine, and these men are dis-
graced. They will go to jail—"
“Yes, for six months, perhaps," broke in the other,
306


THE PROMISE OF DREAMS
hotly, "but what does that amount to ? There never
was a bolder crime consummated nor one more cruelly
unjust. They robbed a realm and pillaged its people,
they defiled a court and made Justice a wanton, they
jailed good men and sent others to ruin; and for this
they are to suffer-how? By a paltry fine or a short
imprisonment, perhaps, by an ephemeral disgrace and
the loss of their stolen goods. Contempt of court is the
accusation, but you might as well convict a murderer
for breach of the peace. We've thrown them off, it's
true, and they won't trouble us again, but they'll never
have to answer for their real infamy. That will go un-
punished while their lawyers quibble over technicalities
and rules of court. I guess it's true that there isn't any
law of God or man north of Fifty-three; but if there is
justice south of that mark, those people will answer for
conspiracy and go to the penitentiary.”
"You make it hard for me to say what I want to.
I am almost sorry we came, for I am not cunning with
words, and I don't know that you'll understand,” said
the Bronco Kid, gravely. “We looked at it this way:
you have had your victory, you have beaten your ene-
mies against odds, you have recovered your mine, and
they are disgraced. To men like them that last will
outlive and outweigh all the rest; but the Judge is
our uncle and our blood runs in his veins. He took
Helen when she was a baby and was a father to her in
his selfish way, loving her as best he knew how. And
she loves him.”
“I don't quite understand you,” said Roy.
And then Helen spoke for the first time eagerly, tak-
ing a packet from her bosom as she began:
“This will tell the whole wretched story, Mr. Glen-
307


THE PROMISE OF DREAMS
left the doctor's office. Roy, in no mood for the
exuberance of his companions, parted from them, but
had not gone far before he met Cherry Malotte. His
head was low and he did not see her till she spoke.
"Well, boy, so it's over at last!"
Her words chimed so perfectly with his thoughts
that he replied: “Yes, it's all over, little girl."
“You don't need my congratulations—you know me
too well for that. How does it feel to be a winner?”
"I don't know. I've lost."
“Lost what?”
“Everything-except the gold-mine."
“Everything except-I see. You mean that she
that you have asked her and she won't?” He never
knew the cost at which she held her voice so steady.
“More than that. It's so new that it hurts yet, and
it will continue to hurt for a long time, I suppose-but
to-morrow I am going back to my hills and my valleys,
back to the Midas and my work, and try to begin all
over. For a time I've wandered in strange paths, seek-
ing new gods, as it were, but the dazzle has died out of
my eyes and I can see true again. She isn't for me,
although I shall always love her. I'm sorry I can't
forget easily, as some do. It's hard to look ahead and
take an interest in things. But what about you?
Where shall you go?”
"I don't know. It doesn't really matter--now."
The dusk hid her white, set face and she spoke mo-
notonously. “I am going to see the Bronco Kid. He
sent for me. He's ill."
“He's not a bad sort,” said Roy. “And I suppose
he'll make a new start, too.".
"Perhaps,” said she, gazing far out over the gloomy
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