THE DEN OF PLOTTERS
The horseman quickly made the cayuse fast to a post. He then turned and
watched the retreating forms of Grey and Buckskin Dan. He stood there
for several minutes after the two had disappeared within a small log
cabin up the trail. He was a lean, lank, Cassius-type of man, with
furtive, restless eyes, which had won for him the sobriquet of "Shifty"
Nick. An old, dirty, weather-beaten slouch hat had been drawn over his
low receding forehead until the broad brim was on a dead level with his
piercing eyes. Presently his lips curled in an angry snarl, and a row of
white teeth showed for an instant beneath a heavy dark moustache.
Thrusting his hands deep into his pockets he moved toward the store,
gave the dog lying by the door a savage kick, and entered the building.
Seeing no one there he strode swiftly forward to the door at the rear of
the room. Here he paused and listened. Hearing voices within he gave the
door a push, and entered. Seated on stools were the two card players,
Siwash Bill and Windy Pete, while sitting on the floor in one corner was
the Indian woman. Her fingers were busy stringing beads for a buckskin
jacket lying near. She seemed to be engrossed solely with her work, and
her head was bent low. But not a sound in that room escaped her acute
ears. Occasionally she lifted her eyes and gave a lightning glance
toward the two men. Then in that brief instant her dusky face revealed a
world of meaning. A passion deep and intense was consuming that quiet
form. Love, fear and hate were raging there, contending with one another
in fierce conflict.
Shifty Nick looked contemptuously at the two men before him.
"So this is how yer spendin' yer time," he snarled. "Great lot you are.
Are yez scart of somethin'? What's happened to the d-- place? Scarce a
soul around, an' you hidin' here with the squaw."
"What's wrong, Shifty?" returned Bill. "Ye seem to be outer sorts.
What's the news? Where's the gang an' the kid?"
Deigning no reply Nick flung himself upon a stool, and eyed the two. His
bronze face was paler than usual, and his face twitched in an agitated
manner.
"Where did that cub come from?" he at length demanded.
"What cub?"
"Oh, you know. That young cuss with old Dan. What's he doin' here?"
"How in h-- do I know," replied Bill, somewhat nettled at the other's
surly manner.
"But ye ought to know. It's yer bizness to know. Here I've been out in
the blazin' sun all day watchin' the trail, while you've been skulkin'
here in this hole."
"Well, suppose we have, ye needn't git so tarnal ugly. We've been doin'
nothin', 'bout same as you. There was nothin' fer us to do but wait."
Nick tapped the floor with his boots for a minute or two lost in
thought.
"Boys," he at length began. "I'm sore upset to-night. I've brought yez
bad news--the gang's gone down in the Rapids."
The effect of this message was most startling. With a muttered oath
Siwash Bill leaped to his feet and confronted the horseman. Pete sat on
the stool like a statue. His lower jaw dropped and his eyes bulged big
with astonishment. Even the Indian woman paused in her work and looked
up. Her eyes glowed with a strange light, whether of sorrow or fierce
joy she alone knew.
"Speak, speak, man, fer God's sake!" shouted Pete, "an' tell us what ye
mean."
"Haven't I told ye?"
"Yes, yes. But don't stop there. Tell us all. When did it happen, an'
where's the kid?"
"Damn if I know where the brat is. I thought you knew. Why didn't ye ask
that stranger?"
"The stranger. What has he to do with the kid? What are ye drivin' at?"
"Nuthin' much, 'cept he had 'im."
"Had 'im?"
"Sure thing."
"Not when he was here."
"No, so I understand."
"But when? What's wrong with ye? Why don't ye spit it out?"
"I will if ye'll sit down an' give me time. There, that's better," he
continued, as Bill with a growl dropped back upon his stool. "Now I kin
spin it off. Well, fer two days I watched yon trail an' river, not
knowin' by which the gang 'ud come. I knew it 'ud be by one or t'other
unless they got pinched. Early this mornin' as I happened by chance
along a high bluff this side of the rapids I spotted two men hikin'
along the trail headin' fer Hishu. At first I thought they were the
gang, but watchin' closer I saw that one was an Injun carry in'
somethin' large in his arms."
"The devil!" ejaculated Pete, and the Indian woman again looked suddenly
up.
"They didn't see me, though," continued Shifty, "fer I smelled a rat,
an' scuttled. Then I did some tall thinkin', an' made up my mind to see
what was behind, fer I knew they hadn't come fer at that time of the
day. Hittin' the trail some distance up, an' follow-in' it fer a piece I
found a huge grizzly lyin' dead at the foot of a little knoll. There
were signs of a lively skirmish, an' the man wot pumped lead into that
critter ain't to be fooled with, let me tell ye that."
"Good Lord, no!" gasped Pete; "guess not."
"Continuin' my way I reached the river, an' there jist at the ford I
found some things which set me thinkin' some more."
"What?" was the excited question.
"A rifle an' a buckskin jacket."
"Whew, ye don't tell!"
"Yes, there they were, thrown down upon the bank. Lookin' up an' down
the river my eyes caught sight of a piece of a canoe floatin' in a
little eddy along the shore. Examinin' it closely I found it was the one
Shorty kep' above the rapids. Goin' down-stream a bit I found another
big chunk on a sand-bar, which made me sartin that somethin' had
happened to the gang. Comin' back I struck an Injun camp, where there
was an old squaw an' a young 'un. They told me the hull yarn an' a d--
sight more, too. That afternoon I skirted the river an' caught up with
the travellers. Twice they spotted me, which made 'em hike like h--"
"But what did they do with the kid?" questioned Pete.
"Took it to Old Meg's, so the squaw told me. Guess it's there yit."
"Good," exclaimed Bill, "we'll not lose it. If Meg's got it, we're all
right."
"Don't be too sure of that," replied Shifty. "What about that young cub
with Buckskin Dan?"
"An' ye say that he had the kid?"
"Sartin. Didn't I tell ye?"
"But how in h-- did he git hold of it?"
"Jumped in the river an' saved its life, so the squaw said."
"The devil! Ye don't say so! But how did he happen to be there jist in
the nick of time?"
"Bah," and Shifty spat contemptuously upon the floor. "How did he
happen to be there! How does he happen to be here? How does he happen to
be everywhere? Don't ye know he's one of them d--Yellow-legs from Big
Glen?"
His companions started at these words, and glanced anxiously toward the
door. Shifty gave a sarcastic laugh, drew a pipe from his pocket and
stuck it between his teeth.
"Scart are ye?" he asked. "I thought y'd scent 'im five miles off."
"To tell ye the truth," Pete replied, "we didn't like the looks of 'im
from the first, so we came back here to talk it over. Thought mebbe he'd
tell Old Dan if left alone. So we listened."
"An' what did ye learn?"
"Nuthin', only we concluded he wasn't a Yellow-leg."
"How's that?"
"Why if he was after the ones wot pinched the kid he couldn't git here
so soon, an' anyway he wouldn't come alone."
"An' so that's yer conclusion, was it? I thought yez had more sense than
that. 'Couldn't git here so soon,' an' 'wouldn't come alone,'" he
mocked. "Don't ye know that them Mounted Devils are everywhere? Ye may
think there isn't one within two hundred miles. But let somethin' happen
an' he's at yer heels like greased lightnin'. As fer comin' alone he
doesn't mind that. He's used to it. He'll stroll into a gang of
cutthroats as cool as ye please, pick his man, snap on the irons, an'
walk out. Why haven't I seen it done time an time ag'in?"
"It takes nerve to do that," suggested Pete.
"Sartin. That's what made the Force what it is to-day. Only the man with
nerves like steel is picked to do an ugly job, an' he knows that the
hull damn Force is back of 'im, an' back of that the British Empire,
Army an' Navy combined. Touch 'im an' ye touch the hull consarn. So ye
may be sure it's no weak-kneed, wobbly-spine chap wot's been sent here,
let me tell ye that."
"But how are ye so sure that he _is_ a Yellow-leg?" questioned Siwash
Bill.
"Know?" retorted Shifty. "Who else would be hikin' about Hishu without
any object? Besides what about that Police rifle out there on that
measly cayuse, an' the buckskin jacket? There's not a shadow of a doubt
about it, so ye needn't worry over that. He's here fer bizness, an' the
sooner we git a move on, the better."
"Oh, if he's as ye say," replied Bill, rising and stretching himself,
"we kin soon fix 'im. He hasn't struck a bunch of kids an' babies here
in Hishu."
"What's yer plan?" asked Shifty.
Bill glanced significantly at a revolver at his hip.
"Now, look here, Bill. Don't make a fool of yerself. D'ye want to bring
down the hull Force upon us? We've done enough already. But lay hands
upon yon chap, an' they'll be about us like hornets."
"What else kin we do, then?"
Shifty sat for some time in silence, while his face twitched more than
ever, as it always did when his mind was working keenly. At length he
brought his hand down upon his knee with a resounding whack.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed. "Ho, ho. It'll be all right. _We_ won't
touch 'im. But what about that pious-tongued hypocrite, Dan? Mebbe he'll
have a finger in this little affair which he didn't expect. Ho, ho, me
an' Pete'll help the Police to find the villain; oh, yes."
"How?" questioned Bill.
"How? Never ye mind that. We'll tend to the tail if you'll look after
the head, an' that's the kid over yon. You keep an eye on it, and we'll
look after the spyin' cub. Is it a go?"
"Sure," Bill assented somewhat dubiously, "but I'll be alone in my game,
though."
"What about that gal with old Meg?" and Shifty tipped a wink to Pete.
"She's a shy 'un, an' hasn't been broken in yit, but I guess you kin do
it. I'd like to try meself, but haven't a ghost of a chance with you.
She'll help ye if ye work her right."
"Think so?"
"Sartin. That kid's got to be moved. It's no place fer it here. So
you've got yer job cut out. Git the kid, an' don't fergit the gal. She's
a trim one that, an' I can't see how old Meg cinched her. She's the
pardner fer ye. None better. If ye had her here she'd bambozzle every
miner an' Injun wot comes to Hishu. They'd crowd in jist to see her,
an' ye'd sell yer stuff like hot cakes."
"But they kin see her over there," replied Bill.
"No. Didn't I tell ye she's too d-- shy? I can't savvey it nohow. An' ye
better git a hustle on, too, fer in a short time the Injuns'll be pilin'
in here like mad."
"Why, what d'ye mean, man? They won't be back fer two months yit."
"Won't they, hey? Jist you wait. I learned somethin' to-day which makes
me say they will."
"Wot's that?"
"The Big Lake Injuns are on the warpath. The Hishus have trespassed on
their ancestral huntin' grounds, an' won't take back water. The
trouble's been brewin' fer years, an' has at last come to a head. It'll
be either a big potlatch or war. But I fear the latter."
"Good Lord, man!" exclaimed Bill, "how did ye learn all this? Surely yer
only foolin'."
"Not a bit of it. That old squaw I met on the trail let the cat out of
the bag, an' the big Injun wot toted the kid is her husband, Hishu Sam.
So ye know wot that means."
During the latter part of this conversation the Indian woman's eyes
glowed with an intense light. She kept them fixed full upon Siwash
Bill's face. Jealousy mingled with a deep hatred was expressed there.
Occasionally her right hand slipped into a bundle by her side until it
rested upon the haft of a keen sheath knife. But when Shifty told about
the threatened war between the Indians, and mentioned the name of Hishu
Sam, jealousy and hatred gave place to fear. It was expressed both in
her eyes and in her face. She sat perfectly rigid, however, until the
conversation had ceased and the men had passed out into the other room.