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Updated: July 27, 2025
The ethics of his attempt I do not defend. It was after the facile fashion of an intriguing era. A sharper weapon was presently given us against Louis Laplante; for when I grasped Eric's stick to stay the raps against my feet, I felt the handle rough with carving. "What are these carvings, may I inquire, Sir?"
'Twas he of the pointed beard, my suspect of the Hudson's Bay Company. Quick as thought I thrust out my foot and tripped him full length on the ground. The light fell on his upturned face. It was Louis Laplante, that past-master in the art of diplomatic deception. He snarled out something angrily and came to himself in sitting posture. Then he recognized me.
"Sacredie," said he, backing against Father Holland, "I am no murderer." It was then I observed that Frances Sutherland had followed me. Her slender white fingers were about the bronzed hand of the French adventurer. "Monsieur Laplante will tell us what he knows," she said softly, and she waited for his answer.
"I will do what you wish," she answered, so low, I had to kneel to catch the words. "A stormy night our signal, then," I cried. Three, sharp, terrified whistles, signifying, "We are caught, save yourself," came from Laplante, and I flung myself on the ground behind Miriam. "Spread out your arms, Miriam! Quick!" I urged. "Talk to the boy, or we're trapped."
But remember we didn't invite you here. We didn't lead you into it." "Well?" I demanded. "Well," he replied in a voice too low for any of the listeners but the squaw to hear, "there's a very bad case of smallpox up in that tent and we're keeping the man apart till he gets better. That, in fact, is why we're all here. You must go. It is not safe." "Thanks, Laplante," said I. "Good-by."
All the pent-up strength, from the walk with Frances Sutherland rushed into my clenched fist and Louis Laplante went down with a thud across the doorway. There was the sish-rip of a knife being thrust through my boot, but the blade broke and I rushed past the prostrate form.
"Was was Laplante in that?" he asked, gripping my arm in his unwounded hand with foreboding force. "Not that we know of. Only Diable. But Louis is friendly with the Sioux, and if we only keep him in sight we may track them." "I'll keep him in sight," muttered Hamilton in low, slow words. "Hush, Eric!" I whispered. "If we harm him, he may mislead us. Let us watch him and track him!"
One of these harangues in particular remains in my recollection. Like all good-natured members residing near the capital, 'Alonzo' was much plagued by office-seekers of all classes. Among these was a certain Madame Laplante of Hull, whose aspirations did not rise above a charwoman's place. She was unusually persistent.
Rising, I dived back to the tepee for it and waited for the dogs to quiet before coming out again. That alert canine had set up a duet with a neighboring brute of like restless instincts and the two seemed to promise an endless chorus. As I live, I could have sworn that Louis Laplante laughed in his sleep at my dilemma; but Louis was of the sort to laugh in the face of death itself.
Unconsciously I was playing into Louis' hands, for he stood by the stove, laughing nonchalantly. Thereupon Eric ground out some imprecation at my stupidity. "There's been a shuffling of allegiance, I hear," he said with a queer misleading look straight at Laplante. "We've recruits from Fort Gibraltar."
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