Till long after midnight Shock sat over the fire pondering the events
of the day, and trying to make real to himself the strange series of
happenings that had marked his introduction to his work in this
country. His life for the last month had been so unlike anything in his
past as to seem quite unnatural.
As he sat thus musing over the past and planning for the future, a
knock came to the door, and almost immediately there came in a little
man, short and squat, with humped shoulders, bushy, grizzled hair and
beard, through which peered sharp little black eyes. His head and face
and eyes made one think of a little Scotch terrier.
"Ye're the meenister?" he said briefly.
"Yes," replied Shock, greatly surprised at his visitor, but warming to
the Scotch voice.
"Aye. Ye're wanted."
"Wanted? By whom?"
"The man that lives in this hoose. He's deein', I'm thinkin'."
"Dying!" said Shock, starting up and seizing his hat. "What! Ike?"
"Aye, Ike. He's verra ill."
"Go on, then," said Shock. "Quick!"
"Aye, quick it is." And the little man, without further words, plunged
into the darkness. A few minutes' swift walk through the black night
brought them to the Ranchers' Roost. There, in a corner of the room at
the back of the bar, he found Ike lying almost unconscious, and
apparently very ill.
"Why, what's the matter?" cried Shock, dropping on his knees beside
Ike. But Ike seemed stupefied, and mumbled a few incoherent words.
Shock caught the words, "the gang," and "dope."
He looked in an agony of helplessness at the little Scotchman, who
stood by looking down upon the sick man with face quite unmoved.
"Do you know what he says?" enquired Shock.
"He's no sayin' much," said the little Scotchman calmly.
Again Ike tried to speak, and this time Shock caught the words, "The
boss--gang's got him--Smiley Simmons--back room--fetch him."
"What does he mean?" cried Shock.
"It's ha-r-r-d to tell that," said the little Scotchman. "He's talkin'
about some boss or other."
"Oh, yes, I know what that means. He is referring to his boss, young
Stanton."
"Oh, ay!" said the little Scotchman, with a light breaking on his face.
"I saw the bodies. They've gaen o'er to the creature Simmons'."
"Show me the way," said Shock. "Quick!"
"Come, then," said the little Scotchman, leading once more into the
darkness.
Some distance down the street stood Smiley--or as some preferred to
call him Slimy--Simmons' general store. At the back of the store there
was a side door.
"They're in yonder," said the little Scotchman, and disappeared.
Shock knocked at the door, but there was no response. He turned the
handle, opened the door, and walking in found himself in the back of
the store, in a room dimly lighted by a hanging lantern. Seated on a
stool at a high desk, evidently busy with his ledger, sat a man, tall,
slender, and wiry. He had a sharp, thin face, with high forehead,
protruding nose, and receding chin. The moment he spoke Shock
discovered at once how it was he came by his nickname.
His smile was the most striking characteristic of his manner. Indeed,
so permanent and pervasive did his smile appear, that it seemed almost
to be a fixed feature of his face.
He came forward to Shock, rubbing his hands.
"Ah, good evening," he said, in a most insinuating voice. "Is there
anything I can do for you?"
"Yes," said Shock, instinctively shrinking from him. "I want to see Mr.
Stanton."
"Mr. Stanton--Mr. Stanton? Let me see. I saw Mr. Stanton some hours
ago. Let me think. Was it at the International? Yes, I think it was the
International. No, in the Royal. I have no doubt you will find him
there. I shall be pleased to show you, for I see you are a stranger. We
are always delighted to see strangers and we try to make them welcome
to our town."
He moved toward the door as he spoke. Shock knew at once he was lying.
"Mr. Stanton is not at the Royal. I have been informed he is in this
building somewhere."
"In this building?" murmured Smiley, in a puzzled tone. "In this
building?" He glanced up at the ceiling as if expecting to see the
missing man there. "Strange," he continued. "Now, I have been here for
some time, for hours, indeed. I am a busy man, Mr.--"
"Macgregor," replied Shock.
"Mr. Macgregor. I find it necessary to pursue my avocation into the
hours we generally devote to slumber. And to-day business has been
unusually interrupted. But I have failed to notice Mr. Stanton enter."
At the further end of the room Shock's eyes fell upon a door, through
the cracks of which a light was shining.
"It is possible," said Shock, "he is in that room," pointing to the
door.
"Hardly, my dear sir, hardly."
But even as he spoke a voice, loud and clear, rang out. "Now, my dear
fellow, go to the deuce. That comes to me."
The reply Shock could not catch.
"I think," he said, turning to Smiley, "we shall find Mr. Stanton in
there."
As he spoke he walked toward the door. But Smiley slipped before him.
"Pardon me, my dear sir, that is a private room--some friends of mine
who would greatly dislike being disturbed. I am exceedingly sorry I
cannot oblige you."
"I must see Mr. Stanton", said Shock, putting his hand upon the door
knob.
"My dear sir," said Simmons, his thin lips drawn back over his yellow
teeth, "I regret to say it is impossible. If Mr. Stanton is in
there--mark me, I say IF he is in there, which is extremely
unlikely--but if he is in there, he would be very unwilling to be
disturbed at this hour. However, since you are so anxious, I shall take
him a message."
As Smiley said this he bowed with an air of gracious condescension, as
if he expected Shock to be profoundly impressed with this concession to
his persistence. But Shock was not at all impressed.
"I cannot wait longer," he said. "It is a matter of life and death. I
must enter that room."
"My dear sir," said Simmons, rubbing his hands, his smile becoming more
and more expansive, "this is my house, that door is my door. If you
break it, I should be grieved to have to exact the full penalty of the
law."
Shock hesitated. He had never willingly broken a law in his life. It
would be a most unfortunate beginning for his mission in this town,
and, after all, what business had he to interfere? If this young fool
was determined to waste his money, let him do so.
But he thought of Ike, and the entreaty in his voice as he whispered
out his broken words, and he thought of the look of reverence and love
on the lad's face that afternoon when he gave his toast, "My mother?
God bless her!" Shock's face set hard.
"I must see him," he said simply, but with such an air of determination
that Simmons weakened.
"Well, if you wait a few minutes," replied Smiley, "I will see if he
will speak to you."
Shock waited till Smiley opened the door, whereupon, stepping quickly
forward, he set his foot against the lower panel and pushed the door
wide open.
In a small room, bare of furniture except for tables and chairs and a
hanging lamp, sat four men, of whom Shock recognised two. The Kid was
one, and Macfarren the other. Across the table from these sat two men,
one by his uniform the Inspector of the Mounted Police. The face of the
other had to Shock a familiar look, but where he had seen him he could
not remember.
As Shock opened the door the man in uniform started up with an oath,
and Macfarren blew out the light.
"What's that for, Macfarren?" said The Kid.
"Shut up, you fool," growled Macfarren.
"What did you say, sir?" enquired The Kid, in a voice somewhat thick
and unsteady.
"Get him out of here," said Macfarren, in a low tone.
"I want to have a few words with Mr. Stanton," said Shock, standing in
the doorway.
"Here you are. Fire away," replied the boy. "The light is not good, but
I can hear in the dark."
"You are wanted, Mr. Stanton, very earnestly by a friend of yours."
"Let him walk right in if he wants me," replied The Kid.
"That he cannot do. He is very ill."
"Ah! who is he, may I ask?" enquired Stanton, striking a match.
It was promptly blown out.
"I wouldn't do that again," he said gently. "Who is it?" he repeated,
striking another match and lighting the lamp.
"It is Ike," said Shock. "He is very ill--dying, for all I know, and he
wants you."
For answer there was a contemptuous laugh from the Mounted Policeman,
in which Macfarren joined.
"Rather good that," said Macfarren.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," said the boy, making a strenuous effort to pull
himself together. "I hate to leave this good company, but I must go. I
happen to pay Ike wages, but he is my friend. He has asked for me, and
I am going to him."
"Oh, blank it all! Don't be a fool," said the policeman. "Ike's all
right. He has been taking an extra drink, but you can't kill Ike. Wait
for half an hour, and we'll go down and see how he is."
The young lad hesitated. The stranger made a signal to Smiley, and
suddenly Shock found himself; pushed backward from the entrance, and
the door slammed in his face.
"Open that door!" he heard The Kid cry.
There was a murmur in response.
"Open it, I say, Simmons."
Again a murmur.
"No, I am going. I will go myself. Ike wants me." The boy's voice was
loud and hard.
"That's mine," the voice cried again. "Let that go at once!"
There was a sound of scuffling and of falling chairs. With a kick Shock
sent the door flying open, and saw three men struggling with Stanton.
Smiley had wound his long arms, about him from behind, the Inspector
held his arm in a firm grip with one hand and with the other had hold
of the stranger, who had The Kid by the throat. Macfarren was still at
the table, evidently gathering up what lay upon it.
In an instant Shock sprang into the fray. With a single jerk he tore
Smiley from his victim and flung him on the floor. Reaching for the
stranger, who was choking The Kid, he caught his wrist and gave it a
slight turn. With a yell of pain the stranger turned upon him and aimed
a blow at Shock's face. Catching the blow on his arm, Shock seized his
assailant by the shoulder, jerked him clear of his feet, and flung him
far into the corner of the room. At this the policeman immediately gave
back.
For a few seconds The Kid stood swaying unsteadily. Then, after he
recovered his breath he turned to Shock and said, "I hardly expected to
ever feel grateful to you, but I assure you I appreciate your timely
help."
Then turning to the others, and regaining his wonted smile and easy
manner, he continued,
"Gentlemen, you are somewhat insistent in your hospitality. It is
always instructive, and sometimes pleasant, to extend our knowledge of
our friends, and now let me say that a more blackguardly lot of thieves
I have never met, and if this gentleman who has dropped in so
opportunely will kindly stand at my back for a few minutes, I shall be
delighted to make good my words by slapping your faces" The Kid's tone
was low and gentle, even sweet.
"Mr. Macfarren, your venerable beard prevents me. Simmons, your general
sliminess protects you, but as for you, Inspector Haynes, it gives me
great pleasure to express my opinion of you--thus!"
His open hand flashed out as he spoke and caught Haynes on the cheek a
stinging blow.
With an oath the Inspector jerked out his pistol and sprang at him. "I
arrest you, sir, in the name of the Queen. Move your hand and you are a
dead man."
"So be you, Mr. Inspector," drawled a quiet voice in the door.
Shock turned, and to his unspeakable amazement saw his sick friend
standing with his gun covering the Inspector.
"One step back, please, Mr. Inspector. Quick! This trigger goes mighty
easy. Now, right wheel!"
The Inspector hesitated a second. "Quick!" cried Ike sharply. "Don't
you fool too long obeyin' orders. I aint used to it. I'm here
exercisin' a public function, preventin' murder, in short, and I'll
drop you in your tracks if you don't move at the next word. You here
me? And if you don't intend to move at the next word, say your prayers
in this interval. Now then, back up to that table and put down that
gun. Correct. Very nice, indeed."
Ike's voice took on more and more of its customary drawl.
"Now, two steps forward. Right. Now, you can--go--to--the--devil!"
Ike stepped to the table, took up the pistol, and returned to his place
at the door, saying:
"Say, boss, this prayer meetin's over. Let's go home."
"Not until the Inspector says so," said The Kid, who had recovered
himself, and who was now quite sober. "He has the word now, Ikey, so
don't interfere."
"All right, Kiddie, play your game. You're equivalent to it, I surmise."
"I think so," said the Kid sweetly. Then, turning to the Inspector, he
continued in a voice of gentle consideration, "There is something on
your cheek, Inspector Haynes. You have not observed it. Allow me to
point it out to you."
He moved forward as he spoke, but Shock interposed.
"I think that is enough, Mr. Stanton," he said.
"Let the matter drop now."
The boy turned quickly, and looking steadily into Shock's face, began
in a quiet, even voice, "Mr.--ah--"
"Macgregor," supplied Shock.
"Mr. Macgregor, you are a stranger. In this country in a matter of this
kind we never allow interference."
"And yet," said Shock in a voice equally quiet, "interference is not
unwelcome at times."
"What you say is quite true," replied the boy, "and, as I have said, I
am not ungrateful for your timely assistance."
"Oh, I was thinking of Ike," said Shock hurriedly.
"But surely you will let this matter drop now."
"Drop!" roared the Inspector. "Blank your impudence! He has called me a
thief, and he has slapped my face while doing my duty. I will have the
lot of you arrested for interference with justice. And as for you,
Stanton, we shall settle this again."
So saying, the Inspector made for the door. At the door Ike still stood
on guard.
"When you want me, Mr. Inspector," he said, "don't have any delinquency
in sendin' for me. I surmise I can contribute some valuable evidence on
the point of guns, games, and such."
The Inspector glared at him.
"I'll take my gun," he said.
"Your gun? Why, cert! Did you drop it somewheres? Perhaps if you look
round when the light's good you'll find it. Slimey, here, will help
you. I'm pretty nigh certain you'll extradite that weapon in the
morning. Good-night."
With a curse the Inspector passed out.
"Now, Ikey," said The Kid coolly, "stand aside, for there is a cur here
that had the audacity to throttle me."
With these words he sprang past Shock, seized the stranger by the
throat, cuffed him with his open hand, and dragging him to the door
sent him forth with a parting kick and an imprecation.
"Now, Macfarren," he said, turning to that gentleman, who still sat by
the table, "you have some money not belonging to you. Put it on the
table."
Without a moment's hesitation Macfarren hastily poured forth from his
pocket poker-chips, gold pieces, and bills.
"I assure you, Mr. Stanton," he hurried to say, "I was simply holding
them till the--ah trouble should be over."
"That was most kind," replied Stanton. "I have no very clear
remembrance, but I was under the impression that it was your suggestion
to lock the door."
As he spoke he swept the money into his pocket.
"Certainly, but my only intention was to keep but ah--strangers
and--intruders. You know, Mr. Stanton, I would be no party to robbery,
and, indeed, I do not believe 'for a moment that any robbery was
intended. It was an unfortunate eagerness on the part of Crawley to
secure his winnings that precipitated the trouble. I really hope you do
not think me capable of anything of the sort."
Macfarren's manner was abject, but his tone was evidently sincere.
"You were unfortunate in your company, then, Mr. Macfarren. Come on,
Ike. We are done with this gang. Lucky I was not quite slewed, or my
creditors would have been in mourning to-morrow. Mr. Macgregor, where
do you put up?"
"He's with me to-night," said Ike, "and a mighty fortunate circumstance
it was for us all. This here business had got beyond my capabilities..
Some of us need a keeper."
"That's me, Ikey. Yes, I know. Rub it in. It's a keeper I need. Well, I
give you my word I am done with this gang. Fool! Fool!" he continued
bitterly, "a cursed fool, Ikey. Three years of it now."
"That's what," said Ikey, leading the way down the street. "For the
past two years, boss, you know you've beat me. Though I don't hold
myself out as no sort of paradox--"
"Paragon, Ikey," said The Kid, with a gentle laugh. He always found his
cowboy's English amusing.
"Paragon, eh? Well, all the same, I aint no sort of paragon, but I know
where to stop."
"Where are we now, Ike? At the end of the rope, eh?"
"No, by the livin' Gimmini! but gettin' there on the jump," said Ike,
with grave emphasis.
Without further conversation they made their way through the dark
streets till they reached Ike's shack.
The doctor lay still asleep in the corner.
"He kidnapped him," was Ike's explanation to The Kid, nodding his head
toward Shock. "So I'd advise that you hitch on to the preacher here for
a period. Give him the job of windin' you up."
"Could you undertake that, do you think?" There was a curious smile on
the boy's face, but an undertone of seriousness in his voice.
"No," said Shock gravely, "I could not undertake that."
"You see, Ike, I am too uncertain. Too far gone, I guess."
Ike was too puzzled to reply. He had a kind of dim idea that in Shock
there was some help for his boss, and he was disappointed at Shock's
answer.
For some time Shock sat in silence, looking at the fire. His heart was
sore. He felt his helplessness. This clever, gay-hearted young fellow,
with all his gentleness of manner, was unapproachable. He belonged to
another world, and yet Shock yearned over him with a tenderness
inexplicable to himself. The Kid gave him no opening. There was a kind
of gay defiance in his bearing, as if he had read Shock's heart and
were determined to keep him at arm's length. Instinctively Shock knew
that he must wait his opportunity.
"Well, guess we'd better turn in," suggested Ike. "Can you two bunk
together? That bed'll hold you both, I guess."
"No, thanks," said Shock decidedly. "That is your bed. I'll spread my
blankets on the floor."
"In this country," said Stanton, "we give the stranger the bed, so you
need not scruple to turn Ike out of his. Ike and I will take the floor."
"Not this time," said Shock firmly. "I am thankful enough for shelter,
without taking a man's bed. Besides," he added, suddenly remembering,
"Ike needs his bed to-night, after his sick turn."
"Yes, by Jove! By the way," exclaimed Stanton, "what happened, Ike?"
"A sudden and unexpected predisposition which takes me now and then,"
turning his back upon Shock and solemnly winking at The Kid; "but I
recover just as quickly, and when I do I'm as slick as ever, and
slicker. These here turns work off a lot of bad blood, I guess."
During his speech he continued winking at The Kid. That young gentleman
gazed at him in amazed silence. Gradually, a light broke in upon him.
"Look here, Ike, what in thunder do you mean?"
"I say, boss," said Ike persuasively, "just go easy. You oughn't to
excite yourself. 'Taint good for you, and 'taint good for me, either.
My doctor says so. I wouldn't persecute your enquiries at this late
hour of the night."
Ike's gravity was imperturbable.
"Well, I be blanked! I beg your pardon, Mr. Macgregor. Ike, you're a
cool one. You've got the nerve of--"
Here The Kid began to laugh, and Shock, all unsuspecting of Ike's
scheme for getting his boss out of the clutches of his spoilers, gazed
from the one to the other with an air of such absolute perplexity that
The Kid went off into immoderate fits of laughter. Ike's gravity
remained unbroken.
"All the same, boss," he said, "you want to keep an eye on that outfit.
They'll get even. That man Crawley and the Inspector aint goin' to rest
easy where they are. Marks like what you put on 'em burn to the bone."
"They cannot hurt me, Ike," said the Kid lightly, "and I think they
will be afraid to try. But Mr. Macgregor here has got into trouble. Is
not Macfarren a church warden, or something, in your Church?"
"He is a manager, I think," said Shock. "Pretty much the same thing."
"Well, he is a man to look out for. I can get along without him, but
you cannot, can you? I mean, he can hurt you."
"No," said Shock quietly, "he cannot hurt me. The only man that can
hurt me is myself. No other man can. And besides," he added, pulling a
little Bible out of his pocket, "I have a Keeper, as Ike said."
As Shock opened the little Bible he became conscious of a sense of
mastery. His opportunity had come.
"Listen to this," he said, and he read in a voice of assured conviction:
"The Lord is thy keeper.
The Lord shall keep thee from all evil.
He shall keep thy soul.
The Lord shall keep thy going out and thy coming in.
From this time forth and forevermore."
He closed the book and put it in his pocket.
"No," he said, "no man can hurt me." Then turning to Ike he said
quietly, "I always say my prayers. My mother started me twenty-five
years ago, and I have never seen any reason to quit."
While his tone was gentle and his manner simple, there was almost a
challenge in his eyes. The fair face of young Stanton flushed through
the tan.
"You do your mother honour," he said, with quiet dignity.
"I say," said Ike slowly, "if you kin do it just as convenient, perhaps
you'd say 'em out. Wouldn't do us no harm, eh, Kiddie?"
"No, I should be pleased."
"Thank you," said Shock. Then for a moment he stood looking first at
Ike's grave face, and then at The Kid, out of whose blue eyes all the
gay, reckless defiance had vanished.
"Don't imagine I think myself a bit better than you," said Shock
hastily, voice and lip quivering.
"Oh, git out!" ejaculated Ike quickly. "That aint sense."
"But," continued Shock, "perhaps I have had a little better chance.
Certainly I have had a good mother."
"And I, too," said the boy, in a husky voice.
So the three kneeled together in Ike's shack, each wondering how it had
come about that it should seem so natural and easy for him to be in
that attitude.
In a voice steady and controlled Shock made his prayer. Humility and
gratitude for all that had been done for him in his life, an
overwhelming sense of need for the life demanded in this God-forgetting
country, and a great love and compassion for the two men with whom he
had so strangely been brought into such close relation swelled in his
heart and vibrated through his prayer.
Ike's face never lost its impassive gravity. Whatever may have been his
feelings, he gave no sign of emotion. But the lad that kneeled on the
other side of Shock pressed his face down hard into his hands, while
his frame shook with choking, silent sobs. All that was holiest and
tenderest in his past came crowding in upon him, in sad and terrible
contrast to his present.
Immediately after the prayer Shock slipped out of the shack.
"I say, boss," said Ike, as he poked the fire, "he's a winner, aint he?
Guess he hits the sky all right, when he gets onto his knees. By the
livin' Gimmini! when that feller gits a-goin' he raises considerable of
a promotion."
"Commotion, Ikey," said The Kid gently. "Yes, I believe he hits the
sky--and he says he needs a Keeper."
"Well," said Ike solemnly, "I have a lingerin' suspicion that you're
correct, but if he needs a Keeper, what about us?"