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Show icf I will 1 kOi MVICTOR ROUSSEAuM sv-t; EST-, krytmr: CHAPTER X Continued. 12 "Thai won't do," said Kitty with sudden fierceness. "She may come back." "She won't. And if she did. and went down on her knees to him, he wouldn't look at her." "What do you mean?" asked Kitty breathlessly. 1 Bowyer leaned forward again and whispered in her ear. . Kitty was us pale as death. "How'll that do for you?" he asked triumphantly. Kilty rose, trembling. "I'll stick to my word." she said. "But you're (he lowest cur I've ever known. Tom Bowyer, and I hope I hope somebody some-body flays you flays the skin off you before you've run your course." "I'll take my chance of that," grinned Bowyer. as he rose. - Kitty sank back in her chair, her hands over her face. Of a sudden the abysmal depths of sin had opened beneath be-neath her. She was tempted to run after him and call him back. But she . could not stir. It was some time he- bore she forced herself to rise. She went to the window. She guessed thai Bowyer was going to the bank. He would return that way. and she could ! call hlra in and tell him that she had ' , changed her mind. Suddenly she started back behind the curtains. Wilton was passing on the other side of the road. He held bis head high, yet he walked like a man who was broken. Kitty watched him go by. Her heart was full of pity for him, for his quix- otic dreams, his foolish faithfulness to Joe. The picture that Eowyer had limned of Molly faded from her nrind under the brighter glow that came Into it. Like Wilton. Bowyer had business to transact with Phayre. He went to the bank ; it was after hours, but he knew I'hayre would be there, awaiting await-ing him. "Carruthers Is In town," said the bank president. "He is, eh?" asked Bowyer, darting a keen glunce at him. "When did he get In 7" "Day before yesterday. He was subpoenaed on thnt case." "That's so, of course," said Bowyer. "What did they get?" "Six months apiece." "No new light on the murder of our friend?" "Nothing. Qualn didn't go Into that phase of the affair at all. He'd questioned ques-tioned thein, and couldn't prove anything." any-thing." Bowyer fell Into a brown study for a few moments. "Carruthers been here yet?" be Inquired In-quired presently. "Not yet. He's trying to raise a cool half-million in town. I guess he's been to the last likely place by now. So he'll be here tomorrow to renew the loan." "You'll renew, of course," said Bowyer. "Excellent wheat lands 1 Fine Investment for your bank, the Missatihl 1 By the way. you hit It strong with that cartoon!" They both laughed, first at the cartoon, car-toon, then at Bowyer's raillery. "No more trouble with Clark?" asked Bowyer. "Not at present. I guess that extra .wo hundred squared him. He's a dangerous customer to handle, though. Aixl absolutely indispensable for a .lob like we had to handle. A first-class man at his trade, cool as a cucumber, and looking like a gentleman. You'll find It bard to heat that combination. He could have had more than the two hundred he held me up for." "He's certainly wortli it," admitted Bowyer. "What'll you do with Iilin next year?" "Why. he scents to like the work here," answered I'hayre, laughing. "I'll keep him on, under my eye ut a reduced re-duced salary." Thry both chuckled over that, hut Bowyer giew serious quickiy. "Well. I've fixed Kitty Bostock." he said. "Lord, it's a cinch handling that type of woman. Once they fancy some particular ma, they'll go through h 11 to get him." "You've told her you'll buy her shares at par." be said. ' You haven't committed com-mitted yourself Irrevocably to that?" Bowyer threw his head back and emitted one of his short laughs. "Well. I may change my mind," he said. "It Isn't In writing." "Suppose she raises Cain?" "She can't She's In too deep. She doesn't know how deep." I'hayre latighed again, but nervously. "I never cared much for this business. 3owT-rr." he said. "If Joe Bostock nadn I died as he did I'd never have jot mixed up with it. But that gave us our chance. It was a very lucky fifvtrtent. If we weren't committed beyond be-yond recovery, Td pull out even now." "Bull out?" echoed the other. "How the devil can we pull out? The trick's done." "You've " "I've fixed It attorn that safe. We had a devil of a Job the first time we tried. He's got a deafmute there who seems to have eyes 1 rice a cat, anil sleeps with them open. Carruthers caught Lee Chambers at the window and smashed his nose. And, of course, Chambers' usefulness at the camp is ended. However, I've fixed it now. and a day or two will see us with what we want, and Carruthers with what he doesn't want." "I suppose there's no doubt those half-breeds did kill Joe Bostock." suggested sug-gested I'hayre, darting a keen look at the other. "I guess not." answered Bowyer. "Anyway, It's no business of ours how It happened. Quain put everybody through the mill. Including me. Thai shows he's at bis wits' end. If a new clue comes to hand he'll jump at it, for the sake of his reputation. By the way, Quain's the man I came in to see you about. You've had a talk with him?" "I saw him yesterday." "How did he take it?" "Fine!" said I'hayre, rubbing his hands. "Hook, bait, and sinker. I could see the flash of illumination come into his eye as the seed began to sprout." "You didu't suggest ?" "No; I'm not quite such a fool as that, Bowyer. I spoke to him abom Joe Rostock's investments, and the missing half-million that lie had drawn out a clay or two before his murder. And I left Quain to draw his own in ferences. Don't worry! He'll druu them 1" "Capital !" said Bowyer. "You're a good partner, Phayre. and in a few days our patience will be rewarded." CHAPTER XI. The Conflagration. "I'm going back to work for you. Mr. Phayre," Wilton had said when he left the oflice. And he had meant it. Without any further hope of keeping the line for Kitty, he resolved, for the work's sake, that the day when the control passed into Bowyer's hands should see the grade across Big Muskeg. Mus-keg. He found the camp in much the same condition as when he had left it. Andersen reported that the men were still getting liquor, and were slacking. Wilton, whose mind had no room for rival propositions at the same time, dismissed the subject. He went straight to bed. But be was aroused by Andersen a little after midnight. "There's a big blaze a couple of' miles north of us." said the foreman. "Sprung up like lightning. And a gale's sweeping up the swamp. The men won't turn out to backfire. They say it's Saturday night and most of them are drunk." Wilton put on his clothes quickly, placed Jules in charge of the shack and hurried to the bnnkhouses. The workmen obeyed his summons with slow sullenness. They were stupid wltli drink. Some jeered; some refused to wirn out at all. But some of the engineers and foremen fore-men were already hurrying to the f m 'ill m:mAm The Fire Was Speeding at a Terrific Rate Toward the Camp. scene. Wilton collected these and started with them in the direction of the conlhigratlon. Tli is was soou seen to be serious. Under the high wind the fire was speeding down at a terrific rate toward the ramp, filling the air with dense clouds of smoke. The camp, having cleared ways ori three sides, had mf been (ire-gunrded. These should have been wide enough to protect It under ordinary circumstances, and the work that was being pushed had left no time for anything else. Backfiring was Impossible, for the wind came up the cleared road from the muskeg with hurricane force. Wilton Wil-ton posted his men along the near side of the way, to beat out the patches of flame thnt would spring up from the burning brands curried over It by the wind. The conflagration came roaring down on them before many minutes had passed. Tt seemed to gather force as It advanced. The smoke was stifling. sti-fling. They could see one another only dimly in the swirling fog. The line of lire shot through the crackling ferns and undergrowth before be-fore them, and reached the edge of the cleared way. Then the workers found themselves surrounded with a ring of flame. The trees and grass were alight behind them. And along the muskeg edge the conflagration had thrust out gripping tentacles of flame that edgeil round and in toward the engine-sheds. Shouting to those nearest him to follow, fol-low, Wilton ran down toward the swamp. But when the grade came into sight he saw something that caught his cry and killed It on his lips. Of a sudden his veins seemed to run Ice for blood. The fire had caught the trestling and was running along the timbers, eating Us way toward the east bank. But what made him catch his breath and clench his -fists was this: the fire was moving eastward and yet it could not have started on the west bank, for here the trestling was completely hidden hid-den under the foundation, over which the flames could not pass. The fire had started in the middle of the muskeg, mus-keg, and had been started there of design. It was the end of everything. Big Musfceg would remain unspanned after nil. when Bowyer assumed control. The engine-houses were fire-red ruins, ru-ins, belching up a black, sticky smoke that clogged the fighters' lungs and settled In fine particles of black dust all over them. Drums of oil and gasoline gaso-line exploded with the salvoes of artillery, ar-tillery, shooting up streamers of flame sky-high. Rivulets of fire broke forth and streamed through the camp, spreading the destruction. The encircling arms of the conflagration confla-gration had thrust their fingers all about them through the forest, which was ablaze in every direction. But in the open space itself the tire had been stayed, though hardly anything was left except the kitchens and hunk-houses. The sheds and engine-houses engine-houses bad gone up in a few minutes, and now glowed fiercely with an intense in-tense heat, but without flame. The fighters had done all they could do, and that was nothing. They could do nothing more now. except to guard the bunk-houses from the rivers of blazing oil. Wilton found a few-men few-men and told them to take spades and throw up mounds along the courses of these torrents, in order to divert them. The Hunkies, mad with drink, gathered gath-ered in clusters at the doors of the bunk-houses 1 and jeered at the men who fought to save them ; and these, too disconsolate to care, having at last secured the remaining structures, flung down their spadrs and drew out of their way. Everyone knew this was the end. Out of the smoke came the. figure of McGee, the head locomotive engineer. engi-neer. His hair was crisped like a negro's ne-gro's he was as black, and the tears had furrowed white channels down his cheeks. "It's all gone!" he shouted. "Nothing "Noth-ing but scrap-iron and junk. We'll have a bargain sale!" He recognized Wilton and seized him by the arm. "Who set that blaze?" he screamed. "Man. there was gasoline, gallons of it. soaking the sheds before ever the fire come there. They were soaked with it. Who did it? Show me the d n skunk 1" he shouted, half beside himself. "It doesn't matter now," said Wilton. Wil-ton. MoOee raved, cursing and sobbing, and suddenly rushed away into the smoke and was lost to view. Wilton wns making his way toward liis shack before it occurred to him that he would not find ft. Yet there was the safe. He would stay guard over that. To his Immense surprise, however, he discovered that the shack had escaped the conflagration, though nothing remained of Kitty's but a few hlackened beams. A backfire had been set successfully. The grass was burned all about the place, and some of the timbers were scorched, but that was all. The shack was an oasis in the devastation of cinders. Jul-es had stuck to his post. Wilton knew there had been treachery. treach-ery. He knew that Bowyer's appearance appear-ance at the portage had not been chalice. Bowyer bad not driven miles from Cold Junction by coincidence. Wilton had no doubt that the fire was of bis making. And even that did not matter. At the door of his shack he stopped. He had a strange instinct of danger the Instinct of the beast returning to its den. which tells It that something has been there during its absence. He unlocked the office door and went in. For a moment he thought his suspicions sus-picions groundless. Then lie saw that the door of the safe was open, lie ran to It. and found the papers inside and apparently Intact, just as they had been. Jules must have scared the thieves away before they could accomplish their desien. But how had they got the combination? Wilton shouted for Jules, and then, remembering that the deaf-mute could not hear him. went out of the 'room toward the little wooden outbuilding which Jules had constructed for hN abode. But the Muskegon was not theT I Re went back through the kitchen. In the middle of the room he saw something dimly outlined on the floor. He struck a match and found Jules In a pool of blood. One side of his head had been almost battered to pieces with a hatchet that lay on the floor nearby. And yet Jules was not dead, for, as Wilton bent over him, he opened his eyes and smiled very faintly into his master's face. And the fingers of one outstretched band quivered and pointed point-ed toward the otlice. Wilton raised Jules gently in his arms and carried him within, and laid him on the floor. The Indian was almost al-most at his last gasp, and lie seemed struggling to express something before he died. The fluttering fingers pointed upward. up-ward. All that was left of life within the broken body seemed to be concentrated concen-trated in them. Wilton watched them. The fingers squirmed and twisted. It seemed to Wilton that there was something in the room that Jules wanted. They were pointing now toward the safe. Wilton raised the dying man in his arms and supported the shoulders against his knees, so that Jules might see. Jules pointed straight at the safe, looked up, and nodded. Wilton nodded. Jules seemed to lose interest then, but Wilton Raised Jules Gently in His Arms. the fingers still twisted, and now they pointed toward the wall behind. Wilton Wil-ton shifted ills position, and raised Hie shade of the lamp, to illuminate the other half of the room. The fingers wandered over the woodwork, and stopped upon the caricature car-icature of Lee Chambers thnt Jules had drawn. Jules Halfhead smiled up into Wilton's face and nodded. Wilton nodded. Then Jules died. CHAPTER XII Kidnaped I Since Bowyer's last visit to the store Molly had been making plans, but, when these were made, she did not dare to place them before the factor. She knew that they could not long remain at the portage. There was his increasing infirmity; there wns Tom Bowyer's enmity his hold over her father, which was bringing him Into his grave. Yet she feared one of the factor's wild outbursts of rage If she renewed her suggestion thnt they should go to Winnipeg. On the other hand, gradually gradu-ally she began to believe that McDonald McDon-ald was forming plans of his own. If thnt were so, in due Mine, and in his own way, he would talk to her about them. Meanwhile she watched her fnthet anxiously. He still dragged his leg as he walked, and the fear that was nlways upon him now had made him an old man within the past year. The girl's love for him. which her humiliation humilia-tion at Bowyer's hands had never entirely en-tirely killed, humed up again after she bad broken with Wilton. But she wondered constantly what was the power that Bowyer had over her faHier. Had McDonald given her any encouragement she would have spoken to him, and begged for nn tin-derslnnding tin-derslnnding that might remove the cloud which hung over them both. But the factor was more morose than ever, especially when the winter trading ended audi time hung heavily upon their hands. The talk came nt last. McDonald was In his chair upstairs. Molly rending rend-ing to him. But the factor did no! seem to hear her; lie was looking out of tile window and brooding as of old. Suddenly he turned to her. "I'm thinking of leaving here before winter, lass," he said. "Leaving here, fatiier? For good?" "For aye." he exploded. "I thocht I'd die here and be laid beside your mother. And I've held on! Cod. how I've held on! But I'm done wirli that hope. Would ye leave the portage, Molly?" he asked wistfully. "Yes father! I wir;h we could. I wish we could go somewhere together where we'd never have cause to remember re-member it." "Aye. never to remember it!" he I echoed. "To Winnipeg?" she suggested timidly. tim-idly. (TO BE CONTINUED.) |