The Silver Horde Part 44

CHAPTER XX

WHEREIN "FINGERLESS" FRASER RETURNS

Big George had lost no time, and already the tow-boats were overboard, while a raft of timber was taking form alongside the ship. As soon as it was completed, it was loaded with crates and boxes and paraphernalia of all sorts, then towed ash.o.r.e as the tide served. Another took its place, and another and another. All that night the torches flared and the decks drummed to a ceaseless activity. In the morning Boyd sent a squad of fishermen ash.o.r.e to clear the ground for his buildings, and all day new rafts of lumber and material helped to increase the pile at the water's edge.

His early training as an engineer now stood him in good stead, for a thousand details demanded expert supervision; but he was as completely at home at this work as was Big George in his own part of the undertaking, and it was not long before order began to emerge from what seemed a hopeless chaos. Never did men have more willing hands to do their bidding than did he and George; and when a week later _The Juliet_, with Willis Marsh on board, came to anchor, the bunk-houses were up and peopled, while the new site had become a beehive of activity.

The mouth of the Kalvik River is several miles wide, yet it contains but a small anchorage suitable for deep-draught ships, the rest of the harbor being underlaid with mud-bars and tide-flats over which none but small boats may pa.s.s; and as the canneries are distributed up and down the stream for a considerable distance, it is necessary to transport all supplies to and from the ships by means of tugs and lighters. Owing to the narrowness of the channel, _The Juliet_ came to her moorings not far from _The Bedford Castle_.

To Marsh, already furious at the trick the ice had played him, this forced proximity to his rival brought home with added irony the fact that he had been forestalled, while it emphasized his knowledge that henceforth the conflict would be carried on at closer quarters. It would be a contest between two men, both determined to win by fair means or foul.

Emerson was a dream-dazzled youth, striving like a knight-errant for the love of a lady and the glory of conquest, but he was also a born fighter, and in every emergency he had shown himself as able as his experienced opponent.

As Marsh looked about and saw how much Boyd's well-directed energy was accomplishing, he was conscious of a slight disheartenment. Still, he was on his own ground, he had the advantage of superior force, and though he was humiliated by his failure to throttle the hostile enterprise in its beginning, he was by no means at the end of his expedients. He was curious to see his rival in action, and he decided to visit him and test his temper.

It was on the afternoon following his arrival that Marsh, after a tour of inspection, landed from his launch and strolled up to where Boyd Emerson was at work. He was greeted courteously, if a bit coolly, and found, as on their last meeting, that his own bearing was reflected exactly in that of Boyd. Both men, beneath the scant politeness of their outward manner, were aware that the time for ceremony had pa.s.sed. Here in the Northland they faced each other at last as man to man.

"I see you have a number of my old fishermen," Marsh observed.

"Yes, we were fortunate in getting such good ones."

"You were fortunate in many ways. In fact you are a very lucky young man."

"Indeed! How?"

"Well, don't you think you were lucky to beat that strike?"

"It wasn't altogether luck. However, I do consider myself fortunate in escaping at the last moment," Boyd laughed easily. "By the way, what happened to the man they mistook for me?"

"Let him go, I believe. I didn't pay much attention to the matter." Marsh had been using his eyes to good advantage, and, seeing the work even better in hand than he had supposed, he was moved by irritation and the desire to goad his opponent to say more than he had intended: "I rather think you will have a lot to explain, one of these days," he said, with deliberate menace.

"With fifty thousand cases of salmon aboard _The Bedford Castle_ I will explain anything. Meanwhile the police may go to the devil!" The cool a.s.surance of the young man's tone roused his would-be tormentor like a personal affront.

"You got away from Seattle, but there is a commissioner at Dutch Harbor, also a deputy marshal, who may have better success with a warrant than those policemen had." The Trust's manager could not keep down the angry tremor in his voice, and the other, perceiving it, replied in a manner designed to inflame him still more:

"Yes, I have heard of those officers. I understand they are both in your employ."

"What!"

"I hear you have bought them."

"Do you mean to insinuate--"

"I don't mean to insinuate anything. Listen! We are where we can talk plainly, Marsh, and I am tired of all this subterfuge. You did what you could to stop me, you even tried to have me killed--"

"You dare to--"

"But I guess it never occurred to you that I may be just as desperate as you are."

The men stared at each other with hostile eyes, but the accusation had come so suddenly and with such boldness as to rob Marsh of words. Emerson went on in the same level voice: "I broke through in spite of you, and I'm on the job. If you want to cry quits, I'm willing; but, by G.o.d! I won't be balked, and if any of your hired marshals try to take me before I put up my catch I'll put you away. Understand?"

Willis Marsh recoiled involuntarily before the sudden ferocity that blazed up in the speaker's face. "You are insane," he cried.

"Am I?" Emerson laughed, harshly. "Well, I'm just crazy enough to do what I say. I don't think you're the kind that wants hand-to-hand trouble, so let's each attend to his own affair. I'm doing well, thank you, and I think I can get along better if yon don't come back here until I send for you. Something might fall on you."

Marsh's full, red lips went pallid with rage as he said "Then it is to be war, eh?"

"Suit yourself." Boyd pointed to the sh.o.r.e. "Your boatman is waiting for you."

As Marsh made his way to the water's edge he stumbled like a blind man; his lips were bleeding where his small, sharp teeth had bitten them, and he panted like an hysterical woman.

During the next fortnight the sailing-ships began to a.s.semble, standing in under a great spread of canvas to berth close alongside the two steamships; for, once the ice had moved north, there was no further obstacle to their coming, and the harbor was soon livened with puffing tugs, unwieldy lighters, and fleets of smaller vessels. Where, but a short time before, the brooding silence had been undisturbed save for the plaint of wolf-dogs and the lazy voices of natives, a noisy army was now at work.

The bustle of a great preparation arose; languid smoke-wreaths began to unfurl above the stacks of the canneries; the stamp and clank of tin- machines re-echoed; hammer and saw maintained a never-ceasing hubbub. Down at the new plant scows were being launched while yet the pitch was warm on their seams; buildings were rising rapidly, and a crew had gone up the river to get out a raft of piles.

On the morning after the arrival of the last ship, Emerson and his companions were treated to a genuine surprise. Cherry had come down to the site as usual--she could not let a day go by without visiting the place-- and Clyde, after a tardy breakfast, had just come ash.o.r.e. They were watching Big George direct the launching of a scow, when all of a sudden they heard a familiar voice behind them cry, cheerfully:

"h.e.l.lo, white folks! Here we are, all together again."

They turned to behold a villanous-looking man beaming benignly upon them.

He was dirty, his clothes were in rags, and through a riotous bristle of beard that hid his thin features a mangy patch showed on either cheek. It was undeniably "Fingerless" Fraser, but how changed, how altered from that radiant flower of indolence they had known! He was pallid, emaciated, and bedraggled; his att.i.tude showed hunger and abuse, and his bony joints seemed about to pierce through their tattered covering. As they stood speechless with amazement, he made his identification complete by protruding his tongue from the corner of his mouth and gravely closing one eye in a wink of exceeding wisdom.

"Fraser!" they cried in chorus, then fell upon him noisily, shaking his grimy hands and slapping his back until he coughed weakly. Summoned by their shouts, Big George broke in upon the incoherent greeting, and at sight of his late comrade began to laugh hoa.r.s.ely.

"Glad to see you, old man!" he cried, "but how did you get here?"

Fraser drew himself up with injured dignity, then spoke in dramatic accents. "I worked my way!" He showed the whites of his eyes, tragically.

"You look like you'd walked in from Kansas," George declared.

"Yes, sir, I _worked! Me!"_

"How? Where?"

"On that b.l.o.o.d.y wind-jammer." He stretched a long arm toward the harbor in a theatrical gesture.

"But the police?" queried Boyd.

"Oh, I squared them easy. It's you they want. Yes, sir, I _worked_."

Again he scanned their faces anxiously. "I'm a scullery-maid."

"What?"