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Updated: June 20, 2025
It was Golemar, followed a moment later by a grinning, twinkling-eyed Ba'tiste. "Bon! Good!" he exclaimed. "See, Golemar? What I say to you? He wait up for Ba'teese. Bon! Now alert, mon ami! The pencil and the paper!" He slumped into a chair and dived into a pocket of his red shirt, to bring forth a mass of scribbled sheets, to stare at them, striving studiously to make out the writing.
The grip about the shoulders tightened, suddenly to give way to a whanging blow, as Batiste, jovial now, drew away, pulled back his shoulders and squared himself as though for some physical encounter. "Ah, oui!" He bellowed. "Oui, oui, oui! Bon good! Ba'teese, he un'stan'. Now what you want me to do?" "Take this bunch of men and turn to at clearing away this wreckage.
He swear never again to be l' M'sieu Doctaire. All his life he help help help but when the time come, he cannot help his own. And by'm'by, Ba'teese come home and find that." He pointed out into the shadows beneath the pines. "She had died?" "Died!" The man's face had gone suddenly purple. His eyes were glaring, his hands upraised and clutched. "No! Murder! Murder, mon ami! Murder!
It would require nearly two thousand men to keep that mill supplied with logs, once we get into production, outside of the regular mill force, under conditions such as they are now. It would be ruinous. We've got to find some other way, Ba'tiste, of getting our product to the mill. That's all there is to it." "Ba'teese, he have think of a way that he have keep secret.
"Ba'teese " he smiled plaintively "like to talk about Pierre and Julienne. Even though eet hurt." Barry could think only in terms of triteness. "Have they been gone long?" The big man counted on his fingers. "One two t'ree year. Before that bon!" He kissed his fingers airily. "Old Ba'teese, he break the way long time ago. He come down from Montreal, with his Julienne and his Pierre in his arm, so.
Then, as though with an effort which took his every atom of strength, Houston shook himself, as if to throw some hateful, vicious thing from him, and turned, with a parrying question: "Did you ever find who did it?" "No. But sometime Ba'teese not forget. Ba'teese always wait. Ba'teese always look for certain things that were in the deed-box. There was jewelry Ba'teese remember.
We'll never fulfill the contract, even with the machinery, unless we can get the use of the lake and a flume to the mill. We may be able to keep it up for a month or two, but that will be all. The expense will eat us up. But one chance is no greater than the other, and personally, I'm at the point where I don't care." "Oui! Ba'teese, he have nothing. Ba'teese he only fight for the excitement.
I fired him and closed everything up there; as far as a Boston end to the business is concerned, there is none. But the damage is done. My lawyer says that there is not a chance to fight this thing in court." "Ah, oui. I expec' that much. But Ba'teese, he think, mebbe, of another way. Eh, Golemar?" He shouted to the dog, trotting, as usual, beside the buggy.
He speak like my Pierre would speak! He will not quit!" "No," and then Houston repeated it, a strange light shining in his eyes, his hands clenched, breath pulling deep into his lungs. "I will not quit." "Ah, oui! Eet is now the, what-you-say, the swing-around point. To-night Ba'teese go out. Where? Ah, you shall wait an' see. Ba'teese go Ba'teese come back. Then you shall see. Ah, oui!
But I sealed any chance of his moral aid when I made my bargain. It was my only chance." Slowly Ba'tiste nodded and slapped the reins on the back of the horse. "Ba'teese will not see Medaine," came at last, and they went on.
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