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Updated: May 25, 2025
John Allandale's face was serious. The nervous twitching of the cheek was still, but the drawn lines around his mouth were in no way hidden by his gray mustache, nor did the eager light which burned luridly in his eyes for one moment deceive the onlooker as to the anxiety of mind which his features masked. Now it was Lablache's deal. "Lord" Bill concentrated his attention upon the dealer.
This is but the beginning of the work, for the task of branding calves and re-branding cattle whose brands have become obscured during the long winter months is a process of no small magnitude for those who number their stocks by tens of thousands. At John Allandale's ranch all is orderly bustle. There is no confusion.
"What say, John Doc a little game until breakfast?" John Allandale's face lit up. His sobriquet was no idle One. He lived for poker he loved it. And Lablache knew it. Old John turned to the others. His right cheek twitched as he waited the decision. "Doc" Abbot smiled approval; "Lord" Bill shrugged indifferently. The old gambler rose to his feet. "That's all right, then.
He was a tall, well-built man and carried his fifty odd years fairly well, in spite of his gray hair and the bald patch at the crown of his head. Thirty years of a rancher's life had in no way lessened the easy carriage and distinguished bearing acquired during his upbringing. John Allandale's face and figure were redolent of the free life of the prairie.
It means ruination to the country if a man cannot run his stock without fear of molestation. Who said that scoundrel Retief was dead drowned in the great muskeg? It's all poppy-cock, I tell you; the man's as much alive as you or I. Thirty-five thousand dollars! By heavens! it's it's scandalous!" Lablache leant forward heavily in his chair and rested his great arms upon John Allandale's desk.
Truly it was a cruel blow, and one well calculated to disturb the even tenor of his complacency. Thought was very busy within that massive head as he lumped heavily along from John Allandale's house in the direction of his own store. Some slight satisfaction was his at the reflection of the prompt assistance he had obtained from the police.
He gazed out towards the Foss River Ranch, and, as he gazed, he saw some one riding fast towards the settlement. The horseman came nearer; the sight fascinated the great man. Now the traveler had reached the market place, and was coming on towards the store. Suddenly the money-lender recognized in the horseman one of Horrocks's troopers, mounted on a horse from John Allandale's stable.
"Unless I give my consent." The satisfaction had suddenly died out of John Allandale's face. Even in his maudlin condition he understood the relentless purpose which backed the money-lender's proposal. To his credit be it said that he was thinking only of Jacky the one being who was dearer to him than all else in the world. For himself he had no thought he did not care what happened.
The doctor was about to speak again but the man hurried away. "Damned funny," the medical man muttered. Then he moved off towards his own home. Somehow he had forgotten his wish for poker. The fifty-acre pasture was situated nearly a quarter of a mile away to the left of John Allandale's house. Then, too, the whole length of it must be crossed before the implement shed be reached.
"You would stand to win a fortune and also one for your niece." "Yes yes. I might win. My luck may turn." "It must you cannot always lose." "Quite right I must win soon. It is a great offer a splendid stake." "It is." "Yes yes, Lablache, I will play. God, man! I will play you!" Beads of sweat stood on John Allandale's forehead as he literally hurled his acceptance at his companion.
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