MACARTNEY HEARS A NOISE: AND I FIND FOUR DEAD MEN
We must have stood silent for a good three minutes. I think I was
furious because Paulette did not speak to me. I said, "You're not to
go--you're _never_ to go and meet Hutton again, as long as you live!"
And for the first time I saw my dream girl flinch from me.
"What?" she gasped so low I could hardly hear. "You know that? What am I
going to do? My God, what am I going to do?"
"You're coming back into the shack with me!" We were on the blind side
of the house for Marcia and Dudley, but we were in plain view from
Charliet's window, and I was not going to have even a cook look out and
see Paulette talking to a man in the middle of the night. Her despair
cut me; I had never seen her anything but valiant before, and I had a
lump in my throat. But I spoke roughly enough. "I didn't know the whole
of things till to-night, but now I do, you'll have to trust me. Can't
you see I mean to do all I can to help you--and Dudley?" If it were
tough to have to add Dudley I did it. But I felt her start furiously.
"Dudley?" she repeated almost scornfully. "Nobody can help Dudley but
me--and there's only one way! Mr. Stretton, I promise you I'll never ask
again, but--for God's sake let me go to meet Dick Hutton to-night!"
"Not blindly," said I brutally. "If you tell me why, perhaps--but we
can't talk here. If you'll come into the house and trust me about what
you want to do, I may let you go--just this once--if I think it's the
right way!"
"I've only half an hour before it's too late--for any way!" But she
turned under the hand I had never lifted from her arm.
I led her noiselessly into the office. I was afraid of the living room.
Marcia might come back to it for a book or something. No one but Dudley
ever went near the office, and he was safely dead to the world, judging
from the horn of whisky he had gone to bed on. The place was freezing,
for the inside sash was up, leaving only the double window between us
and the night; and it was black-dark too, with the moon on the other
side of the house. But there were more things than love to talk about in
the dark,--to a dream girl you would give your soul to call your own,
and know you never will. And I began bluntly, "You've never had any
reason to distrust me. I've helped you----"
"Three times," sharply. "I know. I've been--grateful."
It was four, counting to-night when I had warned her to hide her
signature from Macartney; but I was not picking at trifles. I said:
"Well, I've trusted you, too! I knew the first night I came back here
that you were meeting some man secretly, in the dark. But it was none of
my business and I held my tongue about it; then, and when you met him
again--when it was my business."
"Again?" I heard the little start she gave, if I could not see it.
"The night before you and I took the gold out," I answered practically,
"when I told you your hair was untidy. I suppose you only thought I knew
you had been out of doors, but I heard the man you met leave you and
heard you say to yourself that you'd have to get hold of the gold. I
didn't know whether you were honest or not then, or when I gave you back
your little seal; and not even when you started for Billy Jones's with
me. I knew by the time I got there, if I was fool enough to believe it
was Collins you were fighting instead of helping. But any fool must see
now that Hutton was the only man likely to have followed you out here! I
suppose he told you some lie about giving you up for Van Ruyne's
necklace, unless you made silence worth while with Dudley's gold?" and
her assent made me angry clear through.
"My soul, girl," I burst out, "you balked him about that, even when you
knew he'd put that wolf dope in my wagon, and you were risking your
life--you put a bullet in him in the swamp--I can't see why you should
be worrying to conciliate him by meeting him to-night!"
But she caught me up almost stupidly. "Put a bullet in him? I
didn't--you must know I didn't!"
"There was blood in the swamp and on the road!"
I felt her staring at me in the dark. "It wasn't Dick's," she said
almost inaudibly. "It must have been some one else's. And--he doesn't
know it was he I shot at that night!"
"It might do him good if he did!" I felt like shaking her, if I had not
wanted to take her in my arms more. "Can't you see you've no reason to
worry about Hutton? If Dudley told the truth to-night, and he stole
those emeralds and shifted the crime on to you, it's you who have the
whip hand of him!"
"But he didn't," Paulette exclaimed wildly. "He wasn't near the
Houstons' house! It's mad of Dudley to think so. I know he believes it,
but--oh, it's mad all the same! And even if Dick did take those
emeralds--though I can't see how it was possible--it wouldn't clear me!
It would only mean he was able to drag me into it, somehow."
"But you never touched the necklace!" For I knew that.
"No," simply, "but I'm afraid of Dick all the more. If he did take it,
to get me into his power"--she caught my arm in her slim hands I had
always known were so strong--"can't you see he's _got_ me?" she said
between her teeth, "and that, next thing, he'll get the La Chance gold?
If you don't let me meet him to-night I'll be helpless. I----Oh, can't
you see I'll be like a rat in a trap?--not able to do anything? I can
make him go away, if I meet him! Otherwise"--the passion in her voice
kept it down to a whisper--"it's not only that I'm afraid he can make
things look as if I stole from Dudley as well as from Van Ruyne: I'm
afraid--_for Dudley_!"
The two last words gave me a jar. I would have given most of the world
to ask if she loved Dudley, but I didn't dare: I suppose a girl could
love a man with a face like an egg, if she owed him enough. But whether
she cared for him or not, "By gad, you've got to tell Dudley that
Hutton's here," I said roughly, because I was sick with the knowledge
that anyhow she did not love me.
"Tell him?" Paulette gasped through the dark that was like a curtain
between us. "I've told him twenty times--all I dared. And he wouldn't
listen to a word I said. Ask him: he'll tell you that's true!"
I had no doubt it was. Even on business Dudley's brain ran on lines of
its own; you might tell him a thing till you were black in the face, and
he would never believe it. Lately, between drugs and drink, he was past
assimilating any impersonal ideas at all. Macartney was so worried about
him that he'd told off Baker, one of his new men, to go wherever Dudley
went. I had no use for the man: he was a black and white looking devil
and slim as they make them, in my opinion, though Dudley took to him as
though he were a long-lost brother luckily,--how luckily I couldn't
know. But I wasn't thinking about Baker that night.
"We can't worry over Dudley," I said shortly, "he'll have to take care
of himself. But you won't be helpless with Hutton, if I meet him
to-night--in your place!"
"You? I couldn't bear you to be in it!" so sharply that I winced.
"It won't hurt you to take that much from me!" It wasn't till long
afterwards that I knew I'd been a fool not to have said it with my arms
round her, while I told her why--but since I didn't do it there's no
sense in talking about it. I went on baldly: "I've got to be in it! I'm
not concerned with post-mortems and your past. All I know, personally,
is that Hutton's hiding somewhere round this mine to hold up our gold
shipments and get even with Dudley; and if you'll tell me where to meet
him to-night I can stop both--and be saved the trouble of looking for
him from here to Caraquet, let alone getting you some peace of mind
instead of the hell you're living in."
"Oh, my God," said Paulette, exactly as if she were in church. "I can't
take peace of mind like blood-money--I can't tell you where to find
Dick, if you don't know now," and I should have known why if I had had
any sense, but I had none. "It's no use, Mr. Stretton, I must go to
Dick, alone. I----" But suddenly she blazed out at me: "I won't let you
see him! And I'm going to him--now. Take your hand off me!"
I tightened it. "You'll stay here! _Please!_ And you can't go on
preventing me from meeting Hutton, either. What about the first time I
take any gold out over the Caraquet road--and he and his gang try a
hold-up on me?"
I said gang without thinking, for I was naturally dead sure he had one.
But I was not prepared to have the cork come straight out of the bottle.
Paulette clutched me till I bit my lip to keep steady.
"His gang's what I'm afraid of--for Dudley," she gasped, which certainly
steadied me--like a bucket of ice. "Look here, when first I met Dick, he
told me things, to frighten me--that he'd eighteen or twenty men laid up
between here and Caraquet--enough to raid us here, even, if he chose. It
was because I knew they were waiting somewhere on the road that night
that I drove to Billy Jones's with you. It was one of them I shot when
we tore through the swamp. But something went wrong with them; either
they'd no guns, or they didn't want to give themselves away by shooting
when they saw we were ready--I don't know. But anyhow, something went
wrong. And Dick was black angry. He--the last time I spoke to him--he
wouldn't even tell me what he'd done with his gang; just said he had
them somewhere safe, in the last place you or Dudley would ever look for
them. Oh, you needn't hold me any more; I've given in; I'm not going to
meet Dick to-night. But I had to tell you about his gang, if I can't
about him. And listen, Mr. Stretton. I've tried every possible way to
get it out of him, but Dick won't even answer when I taunt him for a
coward who has to be backed up. I know he has men somewhere, but he
won't tell me where they are, or who they are--now. I believe----" but
her voice changed sharply. "Those two boys, Dunn and Collins! You don't
think Dudley can be right and they _are_ still alive--and have joined
Dick's gang?"
"They're dead!" I was about sick of Dunn and Collins, and anyhow I was
wondering where the devil Hutton's gang could have gone after their
fiasco in the swamp. "They may have meant to join Hutton. But I found
what the wolves left--and that was dead, right enough!"
"I don't believe they're dead," said Paulette quietly.
I shrugged my shoulders. But I never even asked her why. For
suddenly--with that flat knowledge you get when you realize you should
have put two and two together long ago--I knew where Hutton's gang was
now and always had been. "Skunk's Misery," I thought dumbfounded. "By
gad, Skunk's Misery!" For the thing I should have added to the Skunk's
Misery wolf dope was my dream of men talking and playing cards under the
very floor where I slept in the new hut the Frenchwoman's son had built
and gone away from,--because it had been no dream at all. I had actually
heard real men under the bare lean-to where I lay; and knowing the
burrows and runways under the Skunk's Misery houses, I knew where--and
that was just in some hidden den under the rocks the new house had been
built on--that house left with the door open, ostentatiously, for all
the world to see!
I was blazing, as you always are blazing when you have been a fool. But
I could start for Skunk's Misery the first thing in the morning and
start alone, with my mouth shut. None of our four old men could be
spared from the mill, and I had no use for any of Macartney's new ones;
or for Macartney either, for he was no good in the bush. As for Dudley,
nerves and a loose tongue would do him less harm at home. Besides, any
ticklish job is a one-man job and I was best alone: once I got hold of
Hutton there would be no trouble with his followers. But I had no
intention of mentioning Skunk's Misery to the girl beside me; she was as
capable of following me there as of fighting wolves for me, and with no
more reason.
"It's late, and neither you nor I are going to meet Hutton to-night," I
said rather cheerlessly. "You'd better go to bed."
"I want to say something first," slowly, as if she had been thinking.
"What Macartney said to-night--that I was engaged to Dick Hutton when
Mr. Van Ruyne said I took those emeralds--wasn't true! I never was
engaged to Dick. I was sorry for him once, because I knew he did--care
for me. But I always hated him--I can't tell you how I hated him! I
didn't think I could ever love any man till--just lately."
It made me sick to know she meant Dudley. I would have blurted out that
shrinking from the mere touch of his hand was a queer way to show it;
only I was afraid to speak at all, for fear I begged her for God's sake
not to speak of love and Dudley to me! And suddenly something banged
even that out of my head. "Listen," I heard my own whisper. "Somebody's
awake--walking round!"
It was only the faintest noise, more like a rustle than a footstep, but
it sounded like Gabriel's trumpet to a man alone in the middle of the
night with a girl he had no shadow of right to. If it were Marcia,--but
I knew that second it was not Marcia, or even Dudley; though I would
rather have had his just fury than Marcia's evil thoughts and tongue.
"By gad, it's outside," I breathed. "Look out!" But suddenly I changed
my mind on it. There was only one person who could be outside, and that
was Hutton, sick of waiting for Paulette and come to look for her. I had
no desire for her to see how I met him instead, and my hands found her
shoulders in the dark. "Get back, in the corner--and don't stir!" As
she moved under my hands the faint sweet scent of her hair made me catch
my breath with a sort of fierce elation. The gold and silk of it were
not for me, I knew well enough, but at least I could keep Hutton's hands
off it. I slipped to the side of the window and stared out into the dark
shadow of the house, that lay black and square in the white moonlight.
On the edge of it was a man--and the silly elation left my heart as the
gas leaves a toy balloon when you stick a pin in it. It was not Hutton
outside. It was--for the second time that night--only Macartney!
I stood and stared at him like a fool. It was a good half minute before
I even wondered what had brought Macartney out of his bed in the assay
office. I watched him stupidly, and he moved; hesitated; and then turned
to the house door. My heart gave a jump Hutton never could have brought
there. Macartney in the house with a light, coming into the office for
something, for all I knew, and finding Paulette and me, would be merely
a living telephone to Marcia! I tapped at the office window.
Macartney had good ears, I praised the Lord. He turned, not startled,
but looking round him searchingly, and I stuck my head out of the hinged
pane of the double window, thanking the Lord again that I had not to
shove up a squeaking inside sash. "What's brought you back again?" I
kept my voice down, remembering Marcia. "Anything gone wrong?"
"What?" said Macartney rather sharply. He came close and stared at me.
"Oh, it's you, Stretton? I thought it was Wilbraham, and he wouldn't be
any good. It was you I wanted. I've got a feeling there's some one
hanging round outside here."
I hoped to heaven he had not seen Hutton, waiting for an appointment a
girl was not going to keep, and I half lied: "I haven't seen any one.
D'ye mean you thought you did?"
Macartney nodded. "Couldn't swear to it, but I thought so. And I'd too
much gold in my safe to go to bed; I cleaned up this afternoon. I was
certain I glimpsed a strange man slipping behind the bunk house when I
went down an hour ago, and I've been hunting him ever since. I half
thought I saw him again just now. But, if I did, he's gone!"
"I'll come out!"
But Macartney shook his head sententiously. "I'm enough. I've guns for
the four mill men who sleep in the shack off the assay office, and
you've a whack of gold in that room you're standing in; you'd better not
leave it. Though I don't believe there's any real need for either of us
to worry: if there was any one around I've scared him. I only thought
I'd better come up and warn you I'd seen some one. 'Night," and he was
gone.
I had a sudden idea that he might be a better man in the woods than I
had thought he was, for he slid out of the house shadow into the bush
without ever showing up in the moonlight. And as I thought it I felt
Paulette clutch me, shivering from head to foot. It shocked me, somehow.
I put my arm straight around her, like you do around a child, and spoke
deliberately, "Steady, sweet, steady! It's all right. Hutton's gone by
now. Anyhow, Macartney and I'll take care of you!"
"Oh, my heavens," said Paulette: it sounded half as if she were sick
with despair, and half as if I were hopelessly stupid. "Take care of
me--you can't take care of me! You should have let me go. It's too late
now." She pushed my arm from her as if she hated me and was gone down
the passage to her room before I could speak.
I shut the office window, with the inside sash down this time, and took
a scout around outside. But Macartney was right; if any one had been
waiting about he was gone. I could not find hide or hoof of him
anywhere, and the moon went down, and I went in and went to bed. In two
minutes I must have been asleep like a log,--and the first way I knew it
was that I found myself out of bed, dragging on my clothes and grabbing
up my gun.
Whatever the row was about it was in the assay office. I heard Macartney
yell my name through a volley of shots and knew we had both been made
fools of. I had stopped Paulette meeting Hutton, and Hutton had dropped
on Macartney and the assay office gold! I shook Dudley till he sat up,
sober as I never could have been in his shoes, saw him light out in his
pyjamas to keep guard in his own office that Paulette and I had only
just left, and legged it for the assay office and Macartney.
I didn't see a soul on the way, except the men who were piling out of
the bunk house at the sound of a row, as I had piled out of bed; and I
thought Macartney had raised a false alarm. But inside his office door I
knew better. The four mill men who slept in the shack just off it were
all on the office floor, dead, or next door to it. Their guns were on
the floor too, and Macartney stood towering over the mess.
"Get those staring bunk-house fools out of here," he howled, as the men
crowded in after me. "I haven't lost any gold, only somebody tried to
raid me. Why didn't you come and cut them off when I yelled for you?
They--they got away!"
And suddenly, before I even saw he was swaying, he keeled over on the
floor.