_FISHERMAN'S LUCK_
The horse that had galloped from Three Points to Pieter's farm in order
to bring news of Marta's misfortune was too spent to gallop back. Nor
could he carry more than one man, even if he had not been spent. Ramsay,
Pieter and Hans left horse and rider at the farm, while they started up
the beach. For a short distance they stayed together. Then Ramsay, the
youngest and best winded of the three, drew ahead.
A cold dread and a great fear gnawed at him as he alternately walked and
trotted. Marta had become like a beloved sister to him, and the
messenger carried no news except that she was injured. How or why, he
had not said. Ramsay glanced back over his shoulder to see if his
companions were keeping up with him, and discovered that they were lost
in the mist. In any event the day would have been unpleasant. There was
just the right weather combination to make it so--a hint of rain
combined with warm air to drape the fog over everything. And there was
no indication that anything would change. Somehow it seemed just the day
to get bad news.
Ramsay lengthened out to trot again, and then increased his trot to a
run. He was breathing hard, but far from exhausted, and with a little
surprise he realized that he would not have been able to travel so far
without halting, or so fast, when he first came to Wisconsin. A
fisherman's life had toughened him immeasurably. Once more he slowed
down and looked around to see if Pieter and Hans were in sight. They
were not. He walked until he was rested, then trotted into Three Points.
As though there was something in the village that drove it back, the
mist had not invaded there. It was on all sides so thick that the lake
could not be seen and the trees were ghost shapes, half-concealed and
half-disclosed. Most of Three Points was at work, but the few passers-by
on the street glanced curiously at Ramsay as he swung past them. He saw
the little black horse, tied to a hitching post in front of the general
store.
He bounded up the wooden steps, pushed the door open and entered. Marta,
the lower part of her left leg encased in a clean white bandage, was
sitting on a chair. She turned astonished eyes on him. "Ramsay!"
"Are you all right?" he gasped.
"Why ... Of course, I'm all right!"
"You're not hurt?"
"A scratch!" She sniffed disdainfully. "Just a scratch! I stumbled when
I stepped out of the cart. Ach! Such a clumsy one I was!"
The storekeeper's wife, obviously the one who had bandaged Marta's leg,
smiled her reassurance. "It is not bad," she said.
"Oh!" Ramsay felt a moment's clumsiness because he could think of
nothing to say, and again he exclaimed, "Oh!"
Panting hard, deep concern written on their faces, Hans and Pieter came
into the store. Marta's surprised eyes opened still wider. "I thought
you boys were fishing!"
"We--we had to come in for some more twine," Ramsay said somewhat
lamely.
"Three of you?"
"Yaah," Hans, never slow to understand, smiled with affected laziness.
"You know us men, Marta. There wouldn't one of us stay there and work
while another was loafing in Three Points."
"That's right." Slow Pieter finally understood that there was more here
than met the eye. "How'd you hurt yourself, Marta?"
The wondering gaze of the storekeeper and his wife were upon them now.
Still puzzled, Marta glanced covertly at the three men. Ramsay looked at
the storekeeper's wife.
"You should have sent somebody to tell us she was hurt."
"But," the storekeeper's wife was completely bewildered, "she is not
hurt."
"What's the matter?" Marta seemed worried now.
"Nothing," Hans answered blandly. "Nothing at all. We just decided to
have a holiday in Three Points."
"Go long!" Marta scoffed. "Men! They're bigger babies than babies are!"
"Be sure to bring us some twine," Hans said.
"Oh, sure. That I will do."
"Good."
All three men were smiling easily. But as soon as they left the store
and were out of Marta's sight, the smiles faded and their faces became
grim and intent.
"Who was the man who told us she was hurt?" Ramsay asked.
Pieter shook his head, and Hans said, "I never saw him before and I
don't expect to see him again. Probably he was riding into Milwaukee
anyway, and somebody gave him a dollar to report an accident."
Ramsay nodded. Hans, as usual, was logical and there could be only one
answer. Somebody was indeed out to capture the fishing on Lake Michigan.
They had started by destroying Baptiste's nets and now they were moving
against Ramsay and his friends. But they knew well the prowess of the
three and had no wish to strike while they were present. Marta's
reported accident had been only a ruse to draw them away.
Ramsay started toward the sand beach, but Hans laid a restraining hand
on his shoulder. "Wait!"
"We'd better get back and look to our nets."
"There is time, and we'd better not go blindly."
"What are we going to do?"
Hans said grimly, "Find the constable and ask him to accompany us. Then,
if there is trouble, and I expect it, we will have the law with us
rather than against us."
"Suppose the constable doesn't care to come along?"
"He'll come," Hans promised.
They strolled down the street, stopping in various places, until they
found Jake Hillis, the constable Devil Chad had put in office, in the
Lake House. The woman who had given Ramsay the steak and then made him
wash dishes to pay for it, looked up and smiled. "Hello."
"Hi!" Ramsay grinned.
"You didn't run, after all."
"Nope. I didn't."
The constable, standing at the bar, turned around to face the three. He
hooked both thumbs in his belt, letting his fingers dangle. His right
hand, Ramsay could not help seeing, was not too far from the pistol that
swung from his belt. There was no readable expression on his face, but
the woman, who knew him well, went hastily into another room.
Flanked by Ramsay and Pieter, Hans walked directly up to the constable.
"We have something," he said softly, "that demands your attention."
"What is it?"
"It has to do with nets and a raid upon them."
"I got no authority over what happens on Lake Michigan."
"Nevertheless, we need a good, honest man of the law with us. And we
will pay you well enough."
Jake Hillis shook his head. "I can't go off on any wild goose chases. My
duty is to protect this town."