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Updated: May 6, 2025
Jessie went at once to her side. But Kars turned to the squat figure which filled its chair to overflowing. His steady eyes regarded the smiling features of the trader. "Did it come to a scrap?" he inquired easily. Murray shook his head. His dark eyes were no less direct than the other's. "Guess there were too many in my outfit," he said with a shrug.
Providence generally figgers to hand you things at inconvenient times. This darn sound's tricky when there ain't breeze enough to clear your smoke away. It's fierce when it's blowing. Guess you'll be glad to see your outfit ashore." "Ye-es." "Up country again this year?" Kars laughed. "Sure." The seaman regarded him enviously. "Guess it must be great only having the weather to beat.
"Had a good sleep, Peigan?" Kars demanded, "Him sleep plenty, boss." "Good." Kars turned and glanced out over the great volume of water passing down the river in a ponderous tide. Peigan Charley waited in mute, unquestioning fashion for what was to come. Presently Kars turned back to his trusted henchman. He began to talk rapidly.
You've lived outside the law such a long spell I don't guess you need teaching a thing. If we're acting outside the laws of man now, I guess we're acting within the laws of justice. That's all that gets me where you figger. I guess we'll eat. Charley'll know how to hand you your food." The prisoner made no reply. It was the final blow. Kars had withheld it till the psychological moment.
Why, the other's just making a darn fool of old Prov. And I guess old Prov hates being made a darn fool of." But for all Kars' reckless spirit he possessed the wide sagacity and vigorous responsibility of a born leader. It was this which inspired the men he gathered about him. It was this which claimed their loyalty.
John Kars approached the charred pile where it formed the least obstruction, and his eyes searched the staunch but dilapidated shack, with its flat roof. Battered, it still stood intact, hard set against the slope of the hill. Its green log walls were barkless. They were weather-worn to a degree that suggested many, many years and cruel seasons. But its habitable qualities were clearly apparent.
"Allan's the hardest man in the north not even excepting John Kars, who's got you women-folk mesmerized. Allan's been traipsing this land since two years before you were born, and that is more than twenty years ago. There's not a hill, or valley, or river he don't know like a school kid knows its alphabet. Not an inch of this devil's playground for nigh a range of three hundred miles.
But, for all its breaking of the stillness, the muffled sound of a paddle grew out of the distance. Kars sighed a relief he would not have admitted. "Back to schedule," he said. "Guess it needs a half hour of dawn." There was no muffle to the sound of the paddle now, and the waiting men understood.
There won't be a heap of time later, and we start right out by noon. You can trust Bill most all the time. And Charley's no fool on the trail. But I had to get around." "So you got up before the sun to see to it." Kars laughed again. "Yes. Same as you." The girl shook her head. "Say, it won't do. I'll I'll be frank. Yes. I was awake. Wide awake hours. I just couldn't lie there waiting waiting.
"Ah, then that won't help us any," Kars demurred, his eyes dwelling on the ruddy brown of the girl's chestnut hair. "What about a swell party after three days of chores in the house, when a blizzard's blowing?" "That doesn't seem like any craziness," the girl protested. "No, I guess not." Kars searched again for a fresh simile.
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