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He had often seen it since when, quite alone in the woods, he peered through the gray smoke of his camp fire and imagined his patron sitting just on the other side. And now he was to go into St. Marys and do nothing but talk! He shook his head doubtfully. No sooner had the door closed than Clark summoned the superintendent of his railway department. "Fisette has found gold out near the line.
"Of course not but listen you remember when you found the iron last year what I told you?" "You told me to keep my mouth shut. I keep it." "That's right. And now I want you to keep your mouth open." Fisette gasped. "What you mean?" "I mean this. You told nobody about the iron, now you go and tell everybody about the gold. Shout about it. The more you tell the better.
Through them ran yellow threads, and floating in their semi-translucent depths were fine yellow flakes. "Gold," said Fisette quietly. Clark stared at the fragment of rock with a sudden and divine thrill. Gold! the ultima thule of the explorer. He had erected vast works to gain gold, not for himself for he desired no wealth, but for others, and here the precious thing lay in his hand.
It was only a thousand dollars. Therese, four years and three days old, was on his knee. They were all very happy, though only Fisette knew exactly why. With eyes half closed, he contentedly examined the cracks in the big iron box stove and, since the night was cool, stuffed in more wood.
Again he unrolled from a strip of caribou skin the fragment of ore Clark had given him the fragment he was to match and laid it amongst the fresh chippings at his feet. Only by size and shape could he distinguish it. Now it may be assumed that Fisette forthwith threw his tattered hat into the air and gave way to noisy manifestations of joy.
But it was a month before the general manager's private car slid into the siding at Mile 61, where Clark, descending, found Fisette waiting for him, and together they stepped out for the discovery. Here and there along the trail other prospectors fell in silently behind. They wanted to see Clark when he got the first glimpse of the vein.
The half breed felt in his pockets. The other unrolled a duplicate of the map he had shown Baudette and held out his hand, in which Fisette placed some pieces of rock. At the weight and chill of them, Clark experienced a peculiar thrill, then, under a magnifying glass he examined each with extreme care, turning them so that the light fell fair on edge and fracture.
Clark's office always frightened him a little. The rumble of the adjoining power house, the great bulk of the buildings just outside, the masses of documents, all of this spoke of an external power that puzzled and, in a way, worried him. He halted suddenly in front of the desk. "Well?" said Clark, without offering him a seat, for Fisette was more at ease when he stood.
The mob heard it, and through their surging ranks ran that which sobered and cooled their fury. Manson, prostrate and bloody, heard it, and Fisette, and all the others who had fought, it seemed, their last fight. The rioters began to dissipate like blown leaves in autumn, and a rippling line of infantry in open formation moved rhythmically up the road from St. Marys.
Once more he strove for that crushing clasp and, as Fisette darted in, opened his arms wide, took the punishment of a savage blow in the face, and closing his embrace, enwrapped his enemy in a suffocating hug. It was to the death, for a brown thumb was digging into his thorax and he felt sick and giddy. Seconds passed.
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