Hurley's Conspiracy is Unfolded
Nowhere else in the vast territories of the Dominion of Canada could
Joe and his two comrades have come upon a spot more suited to their
purpose than was the tiny island which cropped out almost in the centre
of the frozen and snow-covered surface of the vast lake they had
encountered during their prospecting tour in New Ontario.
"It aer a fair treat," observed Hank, rubbing his half-frozen hands
together, with a gusto there was no mistaking. "I allow that when we
made back to our camp this afternoon things was looking uncommonly
black, and ef we had found that all our traps had been taken or burned
by them half-breeds, why, in course we should ha' been up a gum tree,
as Australians is fond of saying. How do I know they're fond o' sayin'
that, young feller?" he asked, with an appearance of severity he was
far from feeling; for Joe had laughingly asked the question. "Jest fer
this reason: there's Australians comes to Canada--not 'cos they don't
like their own country, for I never heard of one as didn't swear by
Australia; but, you see, things don't move quite as fast out there as
they do here. This Dominion aer the place for settlers above all
others for two good reasons. First, and it's a big 'un--the distance
from the old country is so short, which makes the passage easy and
cheap; and second, this here Government aer on the move all the time,
more even than that over in Australia. Yer see, they've got the masses
pouring in, and huge preparations has to be made. But we was talking
of this island."
"Yes," agreed Joe, who long since had made a tour of the place. Not
that that was a journey of vast extent or of difficulty, for the little
heap of rock which cropped from the bed of the lake in such picturesque
fashion was barely big enough to house three dozen men. That number
would be uncomfortably squeezed together, as a matter of fact, and some
would be pressed from the edge. Then, again, its outer edge was raised
for all the world like the rim of a saucer, while the centre was
depressed into a number of irregular hollows. "A fine place," admitted
Joe warmly. "Shouldn't wonder if in summertime there is fresh water in
these hollows. In any case, though, that wouldn't matter, for there is
abundance of water in the lake. Seems to me we shall be able to make a
fort here that will bother those people."
"What'd you do?" asked Hank, eager to discover the plans that Joe might
have made. "Here you are with a couple of young fellers, me and Beaver
Jack, to look after, and it aer up to you to protect us and lead us.
What'll you do? No laughing matter, young feller--I'm serious."
It was hard to believe that, for never did hunter wear a more jovial
expression. To be precise, that exhilarating flight from before the
enemy, the discovery of their camp equipment undamaged, and then the
gaining of this unique position had lifted the spirits of all three of
the party wonderfully.
"It aer a regular nest, this aer," grinned Hank. "Wall? What do you
make of it? Them critters is away over there talking things over, you
kin guess. Havin' a bit of a pow-wow, as the sayin' is. They've seed
us come away here, in course, for even now that the dusk are falling
you kin follow the track we've left across the snow. It aer up to you,
Joe, to fix a plan that'll save the lives of your two comrades."
There was a twinkle in the little man's eyes, and, looking at him, one
would have said that he didn't care the toss of a button for the enemy,
though, like a sensible and cautious man, he would neglect nothing
which would give him an advantage over them.
"I'd raise this edge all round, first of all," said Joe, "and I'd make
dummies to draw their bullets. We ourselves don't want to be perched
high up, unless during the night, for when it's daytime one can see
across the bare surface outside for a great distance; then I'd make
openings close to the rock through which we could fire. It seems to me
that by doing so we shall bother them, and make it difficult for them
to pick us off as they advance."
"And how'd you raise the edge?" asked Hank, with interest. "Pile up
snow? That takes time."
"I'd cut bricks of snow," was Joe's answer; "then, when they were built
into position, I'd break the ice, if that's possible, and throw water
on the outside face of the wall we've constructed. Talk about
armour-plate on a ship! That'll convert our fort into a regular
dreadnought."
Hank turned on an expansive grin for our hero's special edification,
while even the austere Redskin smiled. "And these here snow bricks,"
said Hank, "you'd take 'em from where?"
"Just outside the island. That would leave a kind of trench all round,
and so give the enemy a greater height to climb, supposing they got to
close quarters."
"Which aer likely enough, seeing as they're so many, and kin scatter so
as to make shooting extry difficult. Shucks, lad! Guess you've put
the case nicely. To make good out here we've got to have protection
more than rifles kin give us. We'll build that wall; seems to me it
aer the first thing that's wanted."
Perhaps half an hour or more had passed since they reached the spot
where they were now awaiting the enemy, and during that time the busy
Indian had constructed a comfortable lean-to, while, as has been
narrated, Joe had built a fire and boiled the kettle. There being no
sign yet of the half-breeds, the whole party sat down about the fire to
discuss Joe's suggestions, while that young fellow himself delved in
one of the bags they always carried with them, brought to light a chunk
of frozen meat which, in that condition, would have required a
good-sized axe to cut, and placed it over the flames. Ten minutes
later, when the frost was driven from it, he cut a number of slices,
thrust his cleaning rod through them, and poised the rod upon a couple
of forked sticks above the fire. As for the remainder of the piece of
flesh, it was quickly frozen solid; for by this time the moon was up
and the cold was intense.
"It aer nice to have a fire, and a hollow to sit in," admitted Hank,
who, as a rule, seemed to be absolutely unaffected by extremes of
temperature. Joe had, in fact, seen the little man cool and collected,
and not inconvenienced in the slightest, even when working on the
hottest day, with a swarm of mosquitoes about him; while the icy breath
of this winter had passed unnoticed. "We aer in fer a cold time," said
the little hunter, staring into the embers, "and seems to me that that
'ere wall aer wanted fer another reason besides fer keeping them skunks
out. It'll make us as warm inside here as ef we was tucked in our
blankets on the cosiest feather bed you ever thought of."
"While these men outside will freeze," added Joe.
"Not they!" came the instant answer. "Them critters is used to life up
here. Wouldn't wonder ef they was 'way up by James Bay most winter
times, and there the cold aer wuss perhaps. They've enlarged our
shelter already, and likely as not they've built a fire right inside.
As soon as they've had a meal they'll turn right in, and the dogs along
with 'em. That'll send up the warmth and keep an Arctic cold out. But
it's ten chances to one as they'll try to rush us before the morning.
Now ef them steaks is done we'll tackle them, and then get to at
building."
There was a delightful odour of cooking about the little island, the
overhanging branches of the evergreen pines seeming to hem it in.
Joe's mouth was watering before he declared that the meal was ready,
and then, having handed a slice to each of his friends, together with a
species of damper cake made from flour and water toasted on the embers,
he fell upon the food himself with a gusto that told how fear had no
place with him. A pipe completed Hank's contentment, then, the moon
being now full up, and the enemy out of sight, the trio set to work to
erect the walls of their fortification. With their long-bladed knives
they cut oblong chunks of frozen snow with the same ease as one would
cut butter, and then, leaving Joe alone to do the building, sent block
after block of the material sliding to the position he had taken.
"We'll get along quicker like that," said Hank. "It don't take more'n
a couple of seconds to lift a block into place, while it takes five
perhaps to cut one. So ef one builds, t'others'll be able to keep him
supplied."
It was really remarkable how rapidly the wall rose. In an hour there
was a complete circle all round the rim of the island, which, being
naturally raised, gave greater height to the artificial wall. The
second row of blocks was soon added, Joe leaving spaces here and there
through which a rifle could be fired. The third and fourth and others
swiftly followed, and when four hours had gone the task was completed.
Then Hank attacked the ice with an axe which he always carried, and,
having cut through a foot and more, came upon water. A tin pot
constantly replenished supplied a means whereby the outer face of the
wall was drenched, and so fierce was the cold that the liquid congealed
almost as soon as it had fallen on the surface at which it was
projected.
"We kin make our dummies any time now," said Hank. "Two of 'em'll be
enough, and the one who's going to take the first watch'll find they
will help to pass the time in making. It's nigh midnight now; I'll
take a spell. Joe'll relieve when three hours have gone, and Beaver
Jack later. Let's get to and make the most of the time before us."
In a short time silence fell upon this little isolated camp. Down in
the depths of the lowest hollow, huddled in their blankets, and as warm
as toast, lay Joe and the Redskin, packed close together; for an Arctic
winter needs to be treated with consideration. No warmth that can be
retained can be allowed to escape, and as two bodies huddled close
together generate a temperature which is greater than that generated by
one, it follows that campers sleep pressed close together. We have
seen the plan put into operation elsewhere. On the high veldt in South
Africa, when nightly frosts are keen, and when tents and proper
covering are not obtainable, your campaigners soon lose all feelings of
foolish pride. Officers divide into couples and bed down beneath the
combined allowance of blankets, while we have seen as many as four of
the rank and file snug beneath their covering, snoring blissfully,
grateful for the warmth of their comrades.
Perched above this tranquil camp, his keen eyes surveying the
surroundings with as much ease as a watchman can keep guard from a
tower built for that special purpose, Hank looked out across the
surface of the lake to the shore where the enemy was lying. His pipe
was clenched between his teeth, his hands sunk deep into his pockets,
while he himself was immovable. But every now and again the glow in
the bowl of his pipe brightened, showing that he was drawing on the
weed, while a puff of smoke issued from his lips.
"The critters!" was a favourite exclamation with him; "Them skunks!"
another; "Ef I only knew what they was after," an oft-repeated sentence.
"Yer see," Hank was saying to himself, "there don't seem to be any
reason in all this business; but there's something behind it all that
we can't even guess at. Somehow I can't help thinkin' that this here
Joe ha' an importance in the matter."
What would the little hunter have given to be able to peer into the
camp of the enemy at that particular moment? He could see the glare of
a huge fire, and could imagine men and dogs sleeping together under a
shelter. But Hank was an exceedingly practical fellow, not one gifted
with an unusual stock of imagination. He could not, therefore, guess
that the number of the enemy was divided, that there was one who was a
leader. And yet that was the case. Half-breeds formed the backbone of
the party--half-breeds of the lowest character, idle vagabonds to be
found round and about the forts in the north of Canada. Not, let us
say at once, that all half-breeds are idle and worthless; by no means
is that the case. There are, of course, black sheep in every flock,
and here a number were gathered together, and at that moment huddled
fast asleep in the shelter of the lean-to which Joe and his friends had
erected. Some ten paces away a second shelter had been constructed, of
rather ample proportions, while a fire blazed at the entrance, warming
the interior. One side of this structure was filled by a sleigh, which
had been put there for a special purpose, the blankets lying upon it
showing that it was meant to serve as a couch. On this same sleigh sat
a man, a bulky fellow, muffled in furs, bearded, and almost
unrecognizable because of the skin cap drawn down over his ears. He
leaned over a wooden box which did duty for a table, and at the precise
moment when Hank was pulling at his pipe and wondering who these
enemies might be, the leader of the band of rascals had his thoughts
attracted to one at least of Hank's little party. A long envelope lay
beside him, while a document was spread out on the improvised table.
As for illumination, some was supplied by the fire, some by the clear
moon overhead, and most by a torch of birch bark, the resinous material
in which caused it to splutter and burn brilliantly.
Let us take a look at this individual and, lifting his cap, endeavour
to recognize him. But time brings changes in all directions, and puts
its stamp on the majority of faces. Anxiety may hasten this inevitable
change, while ill health, worry, an ill-conditioned mind, grasping and
avarice are all capable of imprinting their own particular marks on the
features. In the case of the individual in question, a brutal mind was
displayed by a face that had never been handsome, and was now heavily
seamed and lined, boasting overhung brows, and a mouth which was set in
something approaching a permanent snarl. It was a face which had
changed vastly in the past few months. For this was Hurley, this was
the criminal who had so nearly killed our hero after committing murder,
and who had made his escape into the forest, bearing Joe's riches and
that all-important envelope with him. We have learned how the man was
captured, and how he made good his escape again. We recollect that Joe
had recovered his dollars, but that the envelope was still missing.
Missing? No. It was there on that improvised table. Right away in
the wilds of Canada, in the depths of an Arctic winter, it had come to
view again, though now the seal was broken.
"To my son, Joe Bradley," the ruffian leaning over the box read aloud,
as if he had an audience, picking up the envelope and holding it
closer. "The contents of this letter will explain to you many things
which I have never cared to refer to; but I beg of you never to open it
till you are in direst need or have earned the right to do so. Make
your way in the world, gather riches--then you can open and read."
Hurley sneered at the words. He threw the envelope down with a gesture
of impatience. "Of course the fool obeyed," he growled; "waited till
he'd come out to Canada--in fact, till it was too late. And think what
he was losing. It makes me fair chuckle. There was a home ready-made
for him in England; there was gold to fill his pockets and keep 'em
filled; and there was servants all round about, so that he needn't have
done a hand's turn. Instead the young fool comes out to Canada and
slaves on a farm. Well, some people are born idiots!"
Evidently with the reassuring reflection that he, Hurley, was no fool,
the rascal turned to the contemplation of the document. He spread it
out smoothly, leaned his elbows on either side, and perhaps for the
hundredth time read the story enclosed, a tale, let it be remembered,
meant only for the eyes of our hero; for therein set down, by the hand
of a man now dead, was a history of importance. Hurley gloated over
the contents of this document, weighing every word within it; then he
sat back on the sleigh and gave himself up to dreaming. His savage,
careworn face took on something approaching a pleasant expression, for
Hurley's were pleasant dreams. In them he imagined himself entirely
successful. He built castles for himself in the frosty air of the
lean-to, forgetful that the best of schemes here and there come to a
sudden and disappointing ending.
"It can be done," he said aloud; "there is nothing to prevent me, for I
have considered the plan from every side. I kill the boy; that is the
first move. I take copies of the certificate of death when I leave the
country, and when I reach Great Britain I am Bradley--Mr. Bradley,
senior. Ha!"
A grin of triumph overspread his features, while he pushed his cap back
as if the very thought of success made him hot. Looking at Hurley at
that moment, one realized that he was one of Canada's bad bargains and
an unscrupulous ruffian. As for the tale which he had gathered from
the document which had been stolen from our hero, we will not set it
down in full, as had been done by Joe's father. Suffice it to say that
the narrative was somewhat unusual. It carried the history of two
lives back some fifty years, and told of the birth of Joe's father.
Son of a man of wealth, his mother had died soon after his appearance.
Then a stepmother had appeared upon the scene, while in due time he was
presented with a stepbrother. At that point the tale took on some
particular interest, for by the machinations of his stepmother, Joe's
father had at an early age found himself almost penniless. To be
precise, when six years of age he was banished from the establishment
and sent to live with a schoolmaster at the other end of the country.
Never once did he return home. Sums for his maintenance were
forthcoming, while he drifted unhappily from school to school. He then
found himself placed in an office, and hardly was he self-supporting
when all allowances ceased. In place he gathered the fact that his
stepbrother was now of age and had succeeded to his father's property.
"Succeeded to every penny of it," declared Hurley aloud, "and this here
natural son done out of it. But he got to learn that he was the next
in succession. He's too hurt with all this kind of treatment, and too
proud to go back to the home. He loses himself in some provincial
town, and don't say anything. But the chap who gets all the goods
don't marry. This Bradley knows that well. Then what does he do?
Writes this here, and sends every proof he's got of his own birth and
suchlike to solicitors in London. He don't see 'em hisself. Not a
bit. He sends the documents, and encloses the receipt which was sent
for them in this letter. This here matter can be worked as easy as
eating."
The reasoning of this rascal could be followed now with some ease,
while it is merely necessary to mention one more item in Mr. Bradley's
letter to our hero. He related that his stepbrother, realizing the
injustice done to the elder son, had, as the years passed, made efforts
to discover him. He had advertised, and put the matter in the hands of
searchers.
"In fact, he aer anxious for this here Bradley to turn up, and it aer
clear from the letter that when he does, or his son, there's money and
a comfortable living. An heir's wanted, that's truth, and seein' as
I'm too old to act the son, and am only a trifle younger than this here
Mr. Bradley would ha' been, why, here's the heir. Hurley'll fill the
bill as well as any other."
There was the diabolical plot in its entirety. That document just went
to show that Joe's father was a man possessed of a proud spirit and of
good ideas, for he laid it down on the outside of the envelope that he
wished his son to earn his place in the world before he opened and read
the contents. He would rather see Joe fighting his own battles than
coddling in luxury and spending the money of an uncle. He preached
independence and energy, and our hero had shown it. It was the fortune
of war, perhaps, that the document had come into the hands of such a
scoundrel, and, reviewing it and all the circumstances together, one
now saw the reason for this extraordinary and unprovoked assault upon
the little party. Hurley had gathered means by some dishonest method;
he had traced Joe's movements; and now he had rounded him up, and with
the rascals he had hired had him almost within the net.
"To-morrow or next day, don't matter which," he told himself; "but kill
him I will, then away for England."
For Hurley it was a fascinating conspiracy; for Joe, had he known the
ins and outs of the story, it was likely to prove more than
disconcerting. But forewarned is forearmed, and there is this to be
said for our hero. The first shots had missed him. He was now behind
cover, while two of the stanchest friends were there to protect him.
"P'raps them critters will have had enough already and will sheer off,"
said Hank, still sitting motionless on the top of the snow wall when
the watch he had been keeping came to its end. "Ef not, then it proves
as there's something deep behind all this here business. Hi, Joe! It
aer your turn now, and jest you keep movin'. It's all right fer me as
is an old hand at the game to sit tight and look about me. Young chaps
feels the cold wuss and soon gets sleepy. Move all the time, and take
a fill of 'bacca."
It was a habit into which Joe had fallen, and with very good reason,
too, seeing the open-air life he was leading and the companions he
associated with; for your Canadian backwoodsman loves his smoke. A
short clay dangles from his teeth on most occasions. Joe therefore
roused himself swiftly from his blanket; and here again was something
more which camping had taught him, namely, to be a light sleeper. Hank
might be said to sleep always with one eye open, for he heard the
slightest movement. Beaver Jack might often enough appear to be sunk
in the deepest slumber, and yet, if one happened to peer into his face,
one discovered that both of those deep-sunk brilliant orbs were
actually twinkling. Our hero, too, would sit up with a jerk on the
smallest occasion, so that Hank's call had brought him to his feet
promptly. And now he watched the little man shake himself like a dog
and toss a blanket about him. Then Joe crammed weed into his pipe
thoughtfully, lifted a glowing ash from the fire, and puffed long
flames into the bowl. With a trail of smoke about his head, he began
to march the round of this strange fortification.
"Hard as a brick," he told himself, running his hand along the outside
of the snowy wall. "Wouldn't turn a bullet, perhaps, but almost, I
reckon. Ah! there's the fire the enemy are burning. Jolly cheek
they've got to make use of our old camp! Wonder what they're up to?
Planning an attack for the early hours of the morning, if I ain't
mistaken."
Joe tramped round and round, halting every few minutes to stare about
him, a comprehensive look, in fact, which took in his entire
surroundings. From his perch on the wall he could appreciate the
commanding situation. The countryside seemed to be cut off by that
wide-spreading smooth surface, with its soft covering of white snow,
unbroken in all directions save for the track which he and his friends
had made in gaining the island. The edge of the lake, where the bank
rose from the frozen water, was now so merged with the vast sheet of
ice itself, that even from the island, the best point of vantage for
observation, one could not say where ice ended and solid earth began.
Over all the wintry moon threw its own particular magnificence, bathing
the scene in brilliant rays which accentuated the pure whiteness of
everything.
"Ripping!" Joe exclaimed. "Just fancy if we had such scenes in
England! And people grumble at a Canadian winter. I dare say there
are lots of reasons for wishing the weather were milder, for a winter
such as this is stops a heap of work. You can't sow or plough or
harrow. You can't build even a simple shack such as is wanted on the
farms. You can't ride a horse, as a general rule, while there isn't
feed for cattle. But it's glorious for all that. Give me a bright,
sunny winter's day in the Dominion."
"You aer sure as there ain't no movement?" asked Hank, suddenly sitting
up. "Seemed to me as ef I heard a sound."
"A dog yelped yonder," answered Joe, who was alert and taking notice of
everything.
"A dog?"
"Yes; there's the sound again. I think, too, that it was a different
animal."
"Then it aer a case of all hands on deck," whispered the little
trapper, become suddenly cautious. "Ef dogs is barking, it stands to
reason that they has been disturbed. As a general rule, they'll sleep
a night like this through without moving; so, young feller, you kin
look to see them critters afore very long. I'll rouse Beaver Jack and
then get a kettle o' tea boiling. What's the hour, lad?"
"Five o'clock or thereabouts. Ah! there's another dog, and----"
"You kin see them skunks?" asked the little hunter.
"No--yes! Two sleighs have just shot out from behind the trees where
we were camping last night, but I can't make out how many men are
aboard them.'
"Wall? Aer they heading straight along here?" came the request in a
few moments, while Hank stirred the fire, and, thrusting handfuls of
snow into the wide-mouthed kettle, put the latter upon its hook above
the flames.
"No; they've run on to the lake surface, and are making a tour round.
It appears to me as if they were hunting for an opening."
There came a gurgle of amusement from the little hunter. He presented
a grinning face to our hero, and then climbed up beside him.
"That 'ere wall fair bothers 'em," he laughed. "Guess when you look at
this island from 'way outside, there's jest a smooth white surface
without so much as a break. Now, where aer them critters? Ah! over
there, going along easy. I make it that there's two men aboard each
sleigh, and that this here's merely a kind of scouting. Keep well
down, me lad. We ain't goin' to help them by even a little."
In ghostly silence the two sleighs circled round the island. They kept
at a respectful distance, then dividing, ran in opposite directions.
After some ten minutes had passed they met again, and, swerving so as
to take the same path, went off in the direction of the camp which the
enemy were occupying. It was perhaps half an hour later, when the
little garrison had fortified themselves with a steaming cup of tea,
and pipes were comfortably going, that Joe again gave a warning.
"Coming in full force," he said. "There's four men at least on each of
the sleighs. They're making directly for the island."
It was a true report, for when Hank and Beaver Jack joined Joe, there
were the two sleighs, their teams spread out in front, tearing along
towards the island, while each one of the rascals on the sleighs bent
down, hoping thereby to decrease the wind resistance.
"I could plump a shot clear into 'em now," observed Hank, nursing his
rifle. "But guess it's better to give 'em what they've been axing for
from the beginning. Ef we're goin' to get out of this bother with our
scalps, as you might say, we aer got to read them critters a bad
lesson. Shootin' at them from a distance won't do it. We've got to
run the chance of 'em getting at us, and wait till they're at close
quarters."
So they watched the two crews advance, till a sudden shout caused the
drivers to draw rein. Then eight figures leaped from the sleighs and,
dividing at once, came racing forward.
Joe and his friends watched them quietly and with determination.
Ignorant of the cause of the attack, they were naturally incensed,
while such a thing as surrender had not occurred to them. But a
looker-on must have had serious doubts as to their success; indeed, it
may be said that their danger was great and pressing. As for the
scheme which the ruffian Hurley had originated, his chances of ridding
himself of a rival may truthfully be described as rosy. With Joe
Bradley slain in this outlandish situation, there seemed little
difficulty in carrying out the remainder of a disgraceful and cowardly
conspiracy. Hurley would present himself in England. He would demand
those documents and proof of origin. A fine fortune and position
seemed to be awaiting him.