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Updated: June 20, 2025
Tom Smith, the ticket agent of the Station, looked as if some one had dashed water in his face, so startled was he; and Jared Birkdale simply stared open-mouthed at the spy in their midst. Then Tate, the proprietor, with the tact for which he was noted, went to the bar and began filling glasses. St. Angé had received a shock; but St. Angé took its shocks in a peculiar way.
His sympathies were so largely aroused for Joyce, that he meant to overcome his yearning to be with the object of his passion, and on that first night he intended going to Gaston's shack and setting Joyce right about the future and his own part in the drama. Billy realized that he must shield himself. Birkdale and Lauzoon must never know of his presence in the hut.
After Jared Birkdale had defied Leon in his own stronghold, and, instead of agreeing with Tate that Joyce had come to Isa as to a mother, had insisted upon bare, unglorified fact, he had betaken himself into oblivion. Tate was confronted with the predicament of having a helpless girl on his hands to do for unless another man was forthcoming. Jude rose to the occasion.
But Joyce, already a woman, and that silent man Gaston who had come from a Past that he rigidly reserved for his own contemplation Gaston, who lived among them as a traveller who might depart with the day into a Future Birkdale instinctively knew would hold no possible connection with St. Angé Joyce and Gaston! Here was a situation indeed.
His fear of Jude had departed. Several men, Birkdale among them, were sitting about when Billy, sniffing and rubbing his knuckles in his eyes to such an extent that of necessity notice must be taken, drew their attention. "What's up, Billy?" asked Jock Filmer good-naturedly; "shingle struck a thin place in your breeches? Go around and buy a peppermint stick. Here's a cent.
Tate held his own glass high and firm. "Where is he? Here is his daughter's wedding day Where is he? I tell you if that marriage ain't hard and fast, it's my opinion Birkdale will trifle with it to suit his own ends. Jude's taking chances when he annexes Jared to his responsibilities, and don't you forget it!
Nor the man. The feller Jude Lauzoon is his name I don't care a durn for, but he's all gone over this girl, and if any one can steer him straight she can, and when she gets the reins in her hands, I believe she's going to keep her head, in order to steer straight. "The girl's name is Joyce Birkdale. Mother dead; raised sort of promiscuous on the instalment plan.
Jared Birkdale kept his distance and silence; and Joyce grew to forget him. The Black Cat flourished, and Jude made no attempt to curb his growing desire for popularity there. He was developing a talent for instructing his elders, and laying down the law. He was endeavoring to fill Birkdale's place. Jared had always been the tavern orator.
Angé well enough knew, for every able-bodied man in the place had that day signed a contract with the Boss of Camp 7 for the lumber season; and the St. Angéans never signed contracts on Sunday. The calmness was accounted for by the fact that Joyce Birkdale was to be married. The circumstances leading up to this event had been sufficiently interesting to demand sobriety. St.
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