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Updated: June 9, 2025
Halbeck knew that one shout would have the town on him, and he did not know what card his brother was going to play. He let his arm drop to his side. "What's your game? What do you want?" he asked surlily. "Come over to the Happy Land Hotel," Foyle answered, and in the light of what was in his mind his words had a grim irony. With a snarl Halbeck stepped out.
You're my prisoner," he said, in a louder voice "until you free yourself." "I'll do that damn quick, then," said the other, his hand flying to his hip. "Sit down," was the sharp rejoinder, and a pistol was in his face before he could draw his own weapon. "Put your gun on the table," Foyle said, quietly. Halbeck did so. There was no other way. Foyle drew it over to himself.
Goatry held out his hand. "I'm with you. If you get him this time, clamp him, clamp him like a tooth in a harrow." Halbeck had stopped his horse at the post-office door. Dismounting he looked quickly round, then drew the reins over the horse's head, letting them trail, as is the custom of the West. A few swift words passed between Goatry and Foyle.
Not without cause, in a way, for he had reviled himself to this extent, that when the prairie- rover, Halbeck, escaped on the way to Prince Albert, after six months' hunt for him and a final capture in the Kowatin district, Foyle resigned the Force before the Commissioner could reproach him or call him to account.
Halbeck knew that one shout would have the town on him, and he did not know what card his brother was going to play. He let his arm drop to his side. "What's your game? What do you want?" he asked, surlily. "Come over to the Happy Land Hotel," Foyle answered, and in the light of what was in his mind his words had a grim irony. With a snarl Halbeck stepped out.
She did not reply, for she was looking down the street, and presently she started as she gazed. She laid a hand suddenly on Foyle's arm. "See he's come," she said, in a whisper, and as though not realizing Goatry's presence. "He's come." Goatry looked, as well as Foyle. "Halbeck the devil!" he said. Foyle turned to him. "Stand by, Goatry. I want you to keep a shut mouth. I've work to do."
You're my prisoner," he said in a louder voice " until you free yourself." "I'll do that damn quick, then," said the other, his hand flying to his hip. "Sit down," was the sharp rejoinder, and a pistol was in his face before he could draw his own weapon. "Put your gun on the table," Foyle said quietly. Halbeck did so. There was no other way. Foyle drew it over to himself.
If he thought Foyle needed him his fingers were on the handle of the door. "Now, hurry up! What do you want with me?" asked Halbeck of his brother. "Take your time," said ex-Sergeant Foyle, as he drew the blind three- quarters down, so that they could not be seen from the street. "I'm in a hurry, I tell you. I've got my plans. I'm going South.
There was an oppressive silence, in which she saw that something moved him strangely, and then he answered: "No, he was going by the name of Halbeck Hiram Halbeck." The girl gasped. Then the whole thing burst upon her. "Hiram Halbeck! Hiram Halbeck, the thief I read it all in the papers the thief that you caught, and that got away. And you've left the Mounted Police because of it oh, Nett!"
Goatry held out his hand. "I'm with you. If you get him this time, clamp him, clamp him like a tooth in a harrow." Halbeck had stopped his horse at the post-office door. Dismounting, he looked quickly round, then drew the reins over the horse's head, letting them trail, as is the custom of the West. A few swift words passed between Goatry and Foyle.
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