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In Gordon's pocket there was a note to Macdonald explaining that he had nothing to do with the coming of Meteetse. He had expected to send it by the hotel porter that evening, but the curt order to leave town filled him with a chill anger. The dictator of affairs at Kusiak might think what he pleased for all the explanation he would get from him.
She could be frank, and even shyly audacious on occasion, but she held a little note of reserve he felt bound to respect. Her experience of the world had clearly been limited. She was not at all sure of herself, of the proper degree of intimacy to permit herself with a strange and likable young man who had done her so signal a service. Macdonald left the boat twenty miles below Kusiak with Mrs.
The big Scotchman had run against a barrier, but his rival expected him to trample it down. He would wear away the scruples of Sheba by the pressure of his masterful will. In the late afternoon, while Gordon was still fifteen miles from Kusiak, his horse fell lame. He led it limping to the cabin of some miners.
If he's investigating the Kamatlah claims, why does he go hundreds of miles out of his way to come in to Kusiak?" asked Selfridge. Macdonald smiled sardonically. "He's doing this job right. Elliot as good as told me that he's on the job to look up my record thoroughly. So he comes to Kusiak first. In a few days he'll leave for Kamatlah. That's where you come in, Wally." "How do you mean?"
"Looks like his hawss bogged down in Fifty-Mile Swamp," suggested Holt. "Looks like," agreed Dud. The old miner said no more. But his eyes narrowed to shining slits. If this man had come through Fifty-Mile Swamp he must have started from the river. That probably meant that he had come from Kusiak. He was a young man, talking the jargon of a college football player.
Crisply Macdonald spoke to Gordon, turning upon him cold, hostile eyes. "Get in if you're going to." Elliot met him eye to eye. "I've changed my mind. I'm going to walk." "That's up to you." Gordon shook hands with Diane and Sheba, went into the house for his coat, and walked to the stable. He brought out his horse and turned it loose, then took the road himself for Kusiak.
In front of the Seattle & Kusiak Emporium the Scotchman stopped. A little man who had his back to him was bargaining for a team of huskies. The man turned, and Macdonald recognized him. "Hello, Gid. Aren't you off your usual beat a bit?" he asked. The little miner looked him over impudently. "Well well!
He was to learn within the hour that this was mistake number two. From a pocket of the coat he had thrown on a bed protruded the newspaper Gordon had brought from Kusiak. One of the men, a big red-headed fellow, pulled it out and began sulkily to read. While he read the other two bickered and drank and snarled at each other.
The Irish girl fled into the house as soon as she could, but not before making an announcement. "We're to be married soon, very quietly. If you are still at Kusiak we want you to be one of the few friends present, Mr. Elliot." Macdonald backed her invitation with a cool, cynical smile. "Miss O'Neill speaks for us both, of course, Elliot." The defeated man bowed. "Thanks very much.
Guess you can tell that from hearing her talk the little woman in red with the snappy black eyes. She's spillin' over with talk about the styles in New York and the cabarets and the new shows. That pot-bellied little fellow in the checked suit is Selfridge. He is Colby Macdonald's man Friday." Elliot took in with a quickened interest the group bound for Kusiak.
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