SAM IS LATE
On the afternoon of the same day, Sam, clattering back from Graves's
camp in his empty wagon, suddenly came upon Musq'oosis squatting like
a little Buddha under a willow bush.
The spot was at the edge of the wide flats at the head of Beaver Bay.
Immediately beyond the road turned and followed the higher ground
along the water into the settlement. It was about half a mile to
Bela's shack. Musq'oosis rose, and Sam pulled up.
"Come aboard," invited Sam. "What are you waiting up here for?"
"Waitin' for you," replied Musq'oosis.
He climbed into the wagon-box and Sam chirruped to his horses. The
nervous little beasts stretched their flanks and were off at a bound.
The whole outfit was in a hurry. Sam was hoping to be the first to
arrive at the stopping-house.
Musq'oosis laid a claw on his arm. "Drive slow," he said. "I want
talk. Too much bang and shake."
Sam reluctantly pulled his team into a walk. "Anything up?" he asked.
Musq'oosis shrugged, and answered the question with another. "Anybody
comin' be'ind you?"
"Not near," replied Sam. "They weren't ready to start when I left. And
I've come quick."
"Good!" said Musq'oosis.
"What's the dope?" asked Sam curiously.
"Stiffy and Mawoolie's York boat come to-day," said Musq'oosis
conversationally. "Bring summer outfit. Plenty all kind goods. Bring
newspapers three weeks old."
"I heard all that," said Sam. "Mattison brought word around the bay."
"There's measles in the Indians out Tepiskow Lake."
Sam glanced sidewise at his passenger. "Is this what you wanted to
tell me?"
Musq'oosis shrugged.
"Out with it!" said Sam. "I want to get a word with Bela before the
gang comes."
"Don't stop at Bela's to-night," said Musq'oosis.
Sam frowned. "So that's it! Why not?"
"Goin' be bad trouble I t'ink."
"I know," said Sam. "Joe's been talking big around the settlement all
day. Mattison told that, too."
Musq'oosis looked at him surprised. "You know it, and you want go! You
can't fight Joe. Too much big!"
"Maybe," said Sam grimly; "but I'll do my damnedest."
Musq'oosis was silent for a moment. Evidently this contingency had not
entered into his calculations.
"Bela can't have no trouble there," he finally suggested. "If the
place get a bad name Gilbert Beattie put her out."
Sam was taken aback. "I'm sorry!" he said, frowning. "I never thought
of that. But I've got to consider myself a little, too. I can't let
Joe bluff me out. Nice name I'd get around here."
"Nobody 'spec' you fight big man lak Joe."
"I've got to do it just the same."
"Only to-night."
"What good putting it off? To-morrow it would be the same. I'm just
beginning to get on. I've got to make good! Lord! I know what it is to
be the under dog! No more of that! Joe can lay me out cold, but I'll
never quit!"
"If Beattie put Bela out, she got no place to go," pleaded Musq'oosis.
Sam scowled helplessly. "What can I do?" he asked. "Bela's nearly done
for me already up here. She shouldn't ask this of me. I'll put it up
to her. She'll understand."
"No use stoppin'," said Musq'oosis. "Bela send me up road tell you not
stop to-night."
Sam, in his helplessness, swore under his breath and fell silent for
awhile. Finally his face cleared a little. "Tell you what I'll do," he
said. "I won't stop now and let them find me there. I'll drive on down
to the point and fix my horses for the night. Then I'll walk back. By
that time everybody will be there. They will see that I'm not afraid
to come, anyhow. The rest is up to Bela. She can refuse to let me in
if she wants. And if Joe wants to mix things up, I'll oblige him down
the road a piece."
"All right, I tell Bela," said Musq'oosis. "Let me down now. Not want
anybody know I talk to you."
Sam pulled up. As the old man was about to get down he offered Sam his
hand.
"Ain't you little bit scare of Joe?" he asked curiously.
Sam smiled wryly. "Sure!" he confessed. "I'm a whole lot scared of
him. Hasn't he got thirty pounds on me, weight and reach beside. It's
because I'm so scared that I can't take anything from him. Do you
understand that?"
"I on'er stan'," the old Indian said pithily. "Walter Forest tell me
lak that long tam ago. You brave lak him, I t'ink."
Sam shook his head. "'Tisn't a case of bravery, but of plumb
necessity!"
From the window of the French outfit store Sam was seen driving down
to Grier's Point.
"Scared off!" cried Joe with a great laugh. "Lucky for him, too!"
* * * * *
An hour later Bela was feeding the largest number of men that had ever
gathered in her shack. Except the policeman on duty, and Gilbert
Beattie, every white man in the district had been drawn by the word
passed from mouth to mouth that there was "going to be something doing
to-night."
Even Musq'oosis, who had never before ventured among the white men
without a particular invitation, came in. He did not eat at the table,
but sat on the floor in the corner, watching and listening with bright
eyes, like some queer, philosophic little ape.
As time passed, and Sam did not turn up, the company was frankly
disappointed. They abused him thoughtlessly, forgetting in their
chagrin at losing a sensation, that Sam might have declined a contest
so unequal with entire honour. Bela kept her eyes down to hide their
angry glitter at the men's comments.
Joe Hagland was in the highest spirits. In him this took the form of
boisterousness and arrogance. Not only did he usurp the place at the
head of the table, but he held everybody off from the place at his
right.
"That's reserved," he said to all comers.
As in every party of men, there was an obsequious element that
encouraged Joe with flattery. Among the sturdier spirits, however, Big
Jack, Mahooley, Coulson, an honest resentment developed.
In particular they objected to Joe's changed air toward Bela. He was
not openly insulting to her, but into his voice had crept a peremptory
note apparent to every ear. He called her attention to empty plates,
and otherwise acted the part of a host. In reality he was imitating
Sam's manner of the night before, but the effect was different.
If Bela had shown any resentment it would have been all up with Joe.
They would have thrown him out in less time than it takes to tell. But
Bela did his bidding with a cold, suppressed air. The other men
watched her, astonished and uneasy. None had ever seen her like this.
When the dinner was fairly under way it transpired who the vacant
place was for.
"Come and sit down, Bela!" cried Joe. "Lend us the light of your
handsome face to eat by. Have something yourself. Don't be a stranger
at your own table!"
Big Jack scowled into his plate, and Coulson bit his lip. Their hands
itched for Joe's collar. Unfortunately among men, no man likes to be
the first to administer a public rebuke. The least sign from Bela
would have been sufficient, but she gave them none. She made believe
not to have heard Joe. He repeated his invitation in louder tones.
"I never sit," she said quietly.
"Time that rule was broken!" cried Joe.
"I busy."
"Hang it, let the old woman serve! Every man has had one plateful.
Come and talk to me."
All eyes were on Bela. She hesitated, then went and sat as Joe
commanded. The other men could scarcely believe their eyes. Bela to
take orders in public like this! Her inscrutable exterior gave no
indication of what was passing within.
There was, perhaps, a hint of pain, anger in her eyes, but hidden so
deep they could not see it. The obvious inference was that Joe had won
her at last. She went down in their estimation. Every man shrugged, so
to speak, and let Joe have his way.
That youth swelled with gratified vanity. He heightened his jocular
air; his gallantry had an insolent ring. "Say, we'll pay double if you
let us look at you while we eat. You'll save money, too; we won't eat
so much. We'll take you for dessert!"
The other men were uneasy. If this was Joe's and Bela's way of making
love they wished they would do it in private. They were slow-thinking
men, accustomed to taking things at face value. Like all men, they
were shy of inquiring too far into an emotional situation.
Bela did not eat, but sat still, silent and walled-up. At such moments
she was pure Indian. Long afterward the men recollected the picture
she made that night, still and dignified as a death mask.
* * * * *
Joe could not leave Sam alone. "I wonder where our friend the ex-cook
is to-night?" he inquired facetiously of the company. "Boiling his own
pot at the Point, I suppose. He don't seem to hanker much for the
society of men. That's as it should be. Men and cooks don't gee."
Anyone looking closely would have seen Bela's breast rise and fall
ominously, but no one looked closely. Her face gave no sign.
"Sam was a little too big for his shoes last night," Joe went on.
"To-day I guess he thinks better----"
"Hello! Somebody talking about me?" cried a cheerful voice from the
door.
Sixteen men turned their heads as one. They saw Sam by the door
smiling. Bela involuntarily jumped up, and the box she was sitting on
fell over. Joe, caught up in the middle of a sentence, stared with his
mouth open, a comic expression of dismay fixed on his features.
Sam came in. His eyes were shining with excitement.
"What's the matter?" he asked, laughing. "You all look as if you saw a
ghost!" To Bela he said: "Don't disturb yourself. I've had my supper.
I just walked up for a bit of sociability before turning in, if you've
no objection."
He waited with a significant air for her to speak. There was nothing
naive about Sam's light manner; he was on the _qui vive_ for whatever
might come.
Bela tried to answer him, and could not. Her iron will was no longer
able to hide the evidences of agitation. Her lips were parted and her
breath was coming fast. She kept her eyes down.
There was a highly charged silence in the shack. All knew that the
turn of the drama depended on the next word to be spoken. They watched
Bela, bright-eyed.
By this time Joe had partly recovered his self-possession. "Let him
go!" he said roughly. "We don't want no cooks around!"
Sam ignored him. "Can I stay?" he asked Bela, smiling with a peculiar
hardness. "If you don't want me, all right. But it must come from
you."
Bela raised her eyes imploringly to him and let them fall again.
Sam refused to take it for an answer.
"Can I stay?" he asked again.
"Ah, tell him to go before he's thrown out!" cried Joe.
That settled it. Bela's head went up with a jerk, and her eyes flashed
savagely at Joe. To Sam she said clearly: "Come in, my house is open
to all."
"Thanks," said Sam.
Bela glared at Joe, defying him to do his worst. Joe refused her
challenge. His eyes bolted. He scowled and muttered under his breath.
Sam, taking in the situation, walked quickly to Bela's place, and
picking up the box sat on it, and smiled directly into Joe's
discomfited face.
That move won him more than one friend in the shack. Young Coulson's
eyes sparkled with admiration. Big Jack frowned at Sam, divided
between old resentment and new respect.
Sam quickly followed up his advantage.
"Seems you weren't expecting me this evening," he said quietly. "I
wouldn't have missed it for a lot. Heard there was going to be
something special doing. How about it, Joe?"
Joe was no match for him at this kind of game. He looked away,
muttering.
"What's on, boys?" asked Sam. "Vaudeville or parlour charades?"
He won a hearty laugh by it, and once more Joe felt the situation
slipping away from him. Finally he thought of a way of getting back at
Sam.
"Bela!" he cried roughly. "You bring another box and sit down here."
Sam stared, genuinely amazed at his tone.
"There is no room," said Bela in a wooden voice.
"You bring over a box!" cried Joe peremptorily.
Sam's face was grim. "My friend, that's no way to speak to a lady," he
said softly.
This was the kind of opening Joe wanted. "What the hell is it to you?"
he shouted.
"And that's no way to speak to a man!"
"A man, no; but plenty good enough for a--cook!"
At Sam's elbow was a cup with tea-dregs in the bottom. He picked it up
with a casual air and tossed the contents into Joe's face.