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Updated: June 18, 2025
For the past ten miles I've been reviewing the attractions of every nursing home I've ever heard of, with a view to becoming an inmate. I think I've almost decided on one I know of in Toronto. You see there are a few human beings there." Fyles's eyes had taken in the stranger from head to foot. Even the horse did not escape his closest attention.
He paused, but went on again almost at once. "Since I cannot persuade you, go with your story to the sheriff. Let him judge of your evidence, and if a man of Fyles's undoubted skill and shrewdness acts upon it, I'll pay you one hundred dollars." Tresler saw the force of the other's reply, but resented the tone, while he still remained utterly unconvinced of Anton's innocence.
Then he returned and remounted his impatient mare. "That," he said, as they rode on, "is a message. Fyles's men are down the river spying out the land, and, incidentally, waiting to hear from me. The message I've sent them is a request for assistance at Willow Bluff. I have given them sound reason, which Fyles will understand."
"You see, I have two of the worst scamps in the valley working for me, and they seem to think it more than necessary that they keep themselves posted as to your movements." "I see." Fyles's lighter mood had entirely passed, and with its going Kate's became more marked. "I s'pose they spy out everything for the benefit of their chief." Kate clapped her hands. "What reasoning.
Maybe he has other uses for that shack. I ain't wise. But that hidin' hole I located dead easy. Guess he figgers it's a dead secret but it ain't." Then Fyles's voice, sharply imperious, carried to the listening man. "Who is he?" he demanded, turning suddenly upon his companion as they reached the horses. The grin left the half-breed's face, and Charlie held his breath. The half-breed halted.
"I've been just bursting with a painful longing for the sight of a living man with two arms and two legs, and anything else that goes to make up a human companion," he said delightedly. "Say, how far do you guess a fellow could ride by himself without needing to be sent into a home to be looked after?" Fyles's manner was more guarded.
The postmaster had just placed the message with the officers' mail when the two policemen entered. Fyles's expression was morose, and his manner repellent. McBain was grim and silent. "There's a goodish mail, Mr. Fyles," said Dy, without a trace of his real feelings, as he held out the bulky packet of letters. "That message has just come along over the wire."
It would have given him the opportunity of making this Fyles's acquaintance, which was a matter he desired to accomplish as soon as possible, without drawing public attention to the fact. But in this he was disappointed, for Jake sent Nelson. Nor did he know of the little man's going until he saw him astride of his buckskin "shag-an-appy," with the letter safely bestowed in his wallet.
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