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There were numerous freighters in Dyea, outfits with animals, too, some of them, but inquiry developed the fact that none were free to accept a contract of this size at such short notice, therefore Pierce went to the Indian village and asked for the chief. Failing to discover the old man, he began a tent-to-tent search, and while so engaged he stumbled upon Joe McCaskey.
The outcast was lying on a bed of boughs; his face was flushed and his eyes were bright with fever. Evidently, in avoiding the town he had sought shelter here and the natives had taken him in without question.
Overcoming his first impulse to quietly withdraw, Pierce bent down to the fellow and said, with genuine pity: "I'm sorry for you, Joe. Is there anything I can do?"
McCaskey stared up at him wildly; then a light of recognition kindled in his black eyes. It changed to that baleful gleam of hatred. His hair lay low upon his forehead and through it he glared. His face was covered with a s.m.u.t of beard which made him even more repellent.
"I thought you were Jim," he croaked. "But Jim's--dead."
"You're sick. Can I help you? Do you want money or--"
"Jim's dead," the man repeated. "You killed him!"
"I? Nonsense. Don't talk--"
"You killed him. YOU!" McCaskey's unblinking stare became positively venomous; he showed his teeth in a frightful grin. "You killed him. But there's more of us. Plenty more. We'll get you."
He appeared to derive a ferocious enjoyment from this threat, for he dwelt upon it. He began to curse his visitor so foully that Pierce backed out of the tent and let the flap fall. It had been an unwelcome encounter; it left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.
As he went on in search of the village shaman he heard Joe muttering: "Jim's dead! Dead! Jim's dead!"
CHAPTER VII
Sam Kirby's outfit was one of the largest, one of the costliest, and one of the most complete that had ever been landed on the Dyea beach, for Kirby was a man who did things in a large way. He was a plunger; he had long since become case-hardened to risks and he knew how to weigh probabilities; hence the fact that he had staked his all upon one throw did not in the least disturb him. Many a time he had done the same and the dice had never failed to come out for him. Possessing a wide practical knowledge of new countries, he had shrewdly estimated the Klondike discovery at its true worth and had realized that the opportunity for a crowning triumph, a final clean-up, had come his way. This accounted for the energetic manner in which he had set about improving it.
Most men are successful in direct proportion to their ability to select and retain capable a.s.sistants. Fortune had favored Sam Kirby by presenting him with a daughter whose caution and good sense admirably supplemented his own best qualities, and he was doubly blessed in possessing the intense, nay, the ferocious, loyalty of one Danny Royal, a dependable retainer who had graduated from various minor positions into a sort of castellan, an Admirable Crichton, a good left hand to replace that missing member which Kirby had lost during the white-hot climax of a certain celebrated feud--a feud, by the way, which had added a notch to the ivory handle of Sam's famous six-shooter. This Danny Royal was all things. He could take any shift in a gambling-house, he was an accomplished fixer, he had been a jockey and had handled the Kirby string of horses. He was a miner of sorts, too, having superintended the Rouletta Mine during its brief and prosperous history; as a trainer he was without a peer. He had made book on many tracks; he it was who had brought out the filly Rouletta, Sam Kirby's best-known thoroughbred, and "mopped up" with her. Both mine and mare Danny had named after Kirby's girl, and under Danny's management both had been quick producers. All in all, Royal was considered by those who knew him best as a master of many trades and a Jack of none. He was an irreligious man, but he possessed a code which he lived up to strictly; epitomized it ran as follows, "Sam Kirby's will be done!" He believed in but one G.o.d, and that Rouletta Kirby was his profit.
Equipped with the allegiance of such a man as Royal, together with several tons of high-proof spirits, a stock of case-goods and cigars, some gambling paraphernalia, and a moderate bank roll with which to furnish the same, old Sam felt safe in setting out for any country where gold was mined and where the trails were new.
Of course he took his daughter with him. Sooner than leave her behind he would have severed his remaining hand. Rouletta and Agnes, they const.i.tuted the foundation upon which the Kirby fortunes rested, they were the rocks to which Sam clung, they were his a.s.sets and his liabilities, his adjuncts and his adornments.
Agnes was his gun.
Having seen his freight safely ash.o.r.e, Kirby left Royal in charge of it, first impressing upon him certain comprehensive and explicit instructions; then he and Rouletta and Agnes went up the trail and over the Chilkoot. Somehow, between the three of them, they intended to have a scow built and ready when Danny landed the last pound of merchandise at Linderman.
Mr. Royal was an energetic little person. He began an immediate hunt for packers, only to discover that another outfit was ahead of his and that no men were immediately available. He was resourceful, he was in the habit of meeting and overcoming obstacles, hence this one did not greatly trouble him, once he became acquainted with the situation.
Two days and nights enabled the Countess Courteau to strip the Northern Hotel, to a.s.semble the movable appurtenances thereto, and to pack them into boxes, bales, and bundles, none of which weighed more than one hundred pounds. This lapse of time likewise enabled the Indians whom Pierce had hired to finish their contracts and return to the coast. In spite of the appalling amount of freight, Pierce believed he had enough men to move it in two trips, and when the hour came to start the Countess complimented him upon his thorough preparations. As swiftly as might be he formed his packers in line, weighed their burdens, and sent them on their journey. These preparations occasioned much confusion and a considerable crowd a.s.sembled. Among the onlookers was a bright- eyed, weazened little man who attached himself to the chief and engaged him in conversation.
When the last burden-bearer had departed the Countess directed Lucky Broad and Kid Bridges to stay in the hotel and stand guard over the remainder of her goods.
"Take six-hour shifts," she told them. "I'll hold you responsible for what's here."
"It's as safe as wheat," Broad a.s.sured her.
"I'll camp at the Scales with the stuff that has gone forward, and Pierce will bring the Indians back."
"D'you think you can ride herd on it?" Bridges inquired. "I understand there's a lawless element at large."
The Countess smiled. "I'm sort of a lawless element myself when I start," she said. Her eyes twinkled as she measured Mr. Bridges'
burly proportions. "You're going to miss your alfalfa bed before I get you to Linderman."
The Kid nodded seriously. "I know," said he. "Serves me right for quittin' a profession for a trade, but I got to look over this Dawson place. They say it's soft pickin'. Lucky is taking his stock in trade along, all three of 'em, so maybe we'll tear off a penny or two on the way."
Pierce's pack consisted of a tent for the Countess, some bedding, and food; with this on his back he and his employer set out to overtake their train. This they accomplished a short distance below the first crossing of the river. Already the white packers, of whom there were perhaps a score, had drawn together; the Indians were following them in a long file. Having seen his companion safely across the stream, Pierce asked her, somewhat doubtfully:
"Do you think Broad and his partner are altogether trustworthy?"
"n.o.body is that," she told him. "But they're at least intelligent.
In this kind of a country I prefer an intelligent crook to an honest fool. Most people are honest or dishonest when and as they think it is to their advantage to be so. Those men want to get to Dawson, and they know the Police would never let them across the Line. I'm their only chance. They'll stand a.s.say."
It was mid-forenoon when the Countess halted Pierce, who was a short distance ahead of her, saying: "Wait! Didn't you hear somebody calling us?"
They listened. They were about to move onward when there came a faint hallo, and far down the trail behind them they saw a figure approaching. After a moment of scrutiny Pierce declared:
"Why, it's Broad!"
"Something has happened!" The Countess stepped upon a fallen log and through her cupped palms sent forth an answering call. Mr.
Broad waved his hat and broke into a run. He was wet with sweat, he was muddy and out of breath, when he finally overtook them.
"Whew!" he panted. "Thought I'd never run you down ... Well, set yourselves."
"What's wrong?" demanded the woman.
"Plenty. You've been double-crossed, whip-sawed. Your n.o.ble red men have quit you; they dumped your stuff at the river and made a deal at double rates to move Sam Kirby's freight. They're back in Dyea now, the whole works."
The Countess Courteau exploded with a man's oath. Her face was purple; her eyes were blazing.
"Danny Royal, Kirby's man, done it. Sam's gone on to Linderman to build a boat. I saw Danny curled up on the chief's ear while you were loading. After you'd gone him and the old pirate followed. Me 'n' Bridges never thought anything about it until by and by back came the whole party, empty. Danny trooped 'em down to the beach and begun packin' 'em. I know him, so I asked him what the devil.
'Hands off!' says he. 'Sam Kirby's got a rush order in ahead of yours, and these refreshments is going through by express. I've raised your ante. Money no object, understand? I'll boost the price again if I have to, and keep on boosting it.' Then he warned me not to start anything or he'd tack two letters onto the front of my name. He'd do it, too. I took it on the run, and here I am."
"Sam Kirby, eh?" The Countess' flaming rage had given place to a cool, calculating anger.
Pierce protested violently. "I hired those Indians. We agreed on a price and everything was settled."
"Well, Danny unsettled it. They're workin' for him and he intends to keep 'em."
"What about our white packers?" the woman inquired of Broad.
"They must have crossed before Danny caught up, or he'd have had them, too. 'Money no object,' he said. I'm danged if I'd turn a trick like that."
"Where's our stuff?"
"At the Crossing."
The Countess turned back down the trail and Pierce followed her.
"I'll settle this Royal," he declared, furiously.