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Updated: June 19, 2025
Over his face, into his very clothes and manner, had passed something that tumbled her rudely back to the Koppy she knew best, the malignant, sneering, mesmeric, uncouth underforeman her father and Adrian suspected. He stooped and lifted his hat jerkily. "Workers strong," he said in his broken English. "They see big things, they do them. I, a vice-president just a Pole, but big man I order.
The Pole swallowed shouted something in a foreign tongue, and every hand fell into the open, weaponless, every man sat down. "You're a wise guy sometimes, Koppy," smiled Conrad. "Now you and I remain here for five minutes, then fifty of them come with us I won't need more. Tell them that in the lingo.
With his own eyes he saw Torrance mount the speeder and drive away; and with a scowl he followed the laughing flight of the girl and her lover. At last the trestle was unguarded! A few hasty words to Heppel started him at a lumbering trot for the camp. Ten minutes later a score of men stood within their leader's shack. Koppy knew he had time.
Blue Pete loved a scrap; he had also certain definite debts to pay to Koppy, and the thought of a lot of bohunks within range of a licensed rifle made him smile happily. An inborn decency craved to teach these brutes decency in the only way he knew. All day long he fought a crowding impatience. He had early come to the decision to keep Mira in the dark.
"We know your full name. Drop the heroics." "No heroics to think of young missus." Koppy turned to Tressa, forced to be an uncomfortable witness of one of the frequent quarrels that never reached an issue. "If she say no danger, Ignace Koppowski satisfied." He bent his big frame with surprising grace. Tressa smiled on the Pole from the upper step.
Then he went to the window that opened on the woods, swung it open, and without looking through whistled softly. Three men moved furtively across the opening and waited. Koppy stepped to the door and carelessly examined the sky, drew tobacco and cigarette papers and rolled himself a smoke.
Torrance was restraining himself for lack of victims on whom to vent his wrath; Werner had retired to a discreet distance. Koppy was sitting weakly on the log, wondering what had happened. The contractor reached out one big hand and jerked him to his feet. "Now, you ! I'll give you twenty minutes to round up them cusses of yours and get them up in that trestle.
I hope I'm five hundred miles away about then." Koppy, struggling with anger and scorn, frowned on the would-be humourist, who hastily grinned. "Course you know it's only a joke of mine, Koppy." "Better so," returned the leader coldly. "Many Indians about?" He was searching Werner's eyes. "You saw or smelt them." Werner wilted under that stare.
"We can lick four hundred and ninety-five of them, but it was that fellow in there did for the extra five. Find him for me, Koppy, and I'll put him in your place and kick you to hell." "If Koppy find him, you no need," replied the Pole, the expression of his face clearing away the ambiguity of his words. "I find him." As if in challenge, the unseen rifle replied.
Werner himself would creep away west and join himself to one of the construction gangs where questions were not asked. He could await his chance of slipping across the border to the States. His idea of geography was somewhat hazy. Koppy listened to the end with veiled eyes. He read Werner much more accurately than Werner read him.
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