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Updated: June 18, 2025
How came she in those far remotenesses which he knew Marcel hunted? He could not think, unless His searching mind offered him only one solution. It seemed remote enough. It even seemed extravagant. Lorson Harris was the evil genius he had to fear. And he sought to connect him with the mystery of it all. Was this Keeko some Delilah seeking to betray the secret he had fought to retain so long?
The expressive face of Marcel reflected the emotion which Steve's words had set stirring in his boyish heart. The delight at his contemplated share in the great adventure had been shining in his eyes. Now they were shadowed with anxiety at the talk of Lorson Harris and his scouts. A moment's disappointment followed.
Lorson was nigh crazy for the trade he lost, for all Brand was a free-trader like Lorson hates best. Then, three years or so later, along comes this guy with the name of 'Marcel Brand, and carried on the trade. And he's a white man same as the other. It was then Lorson took to smiling plenty again." "You figger he's the feller that? "I don't know. I 'low' got notions though."
Next thing happens is Lorson opens up Fort Duggan, and puts the tough in. So the boys are guessin'. There sure is some sort of murder behind it. Lorson don't miss things. His chances are mostly a cinch." "Yes, he's pretty wise." The thoughtful eyes of the trail man were turned on the sides of the glowing stove so that the saloon-keeper had no chance of observing them.
It's baled ready for Lorson Harris to buy. You can get a peek at it, at the stuff these folks reckoned to steal. Will you ?" The invitation stirred Marcel to prompt anxiety. He laid a hand on Keeko's soft shoulder as she prepared to move away. "Is it safe, Uncle Steve?" he demanded hastily. "You see, Keeko's not like " "Safe? Sure." Steve produced two masks.
"It's a swell proposition!" "It's a hell of a proposition!" "Well? You need to say right now. I don't need to remind you of Lorson Harris." "God curse Lorson Harris!" "Just so." Tough was unrelenting in his pressure upon his victim. Lorson Harris chose his agents well. Suddenly Nicol flung out his hands in a furious gesture. "God's hell light on him!
You're here to make that fort. And when you've made it, it's up to you to get possession of it. See? Lorson Harris means to bring that post right into his grip. There's a reason. A hell of a reason. It's so big he's ready to dope out a hundred thousand dollars to the man who can blot out the fellers trading there, and grab their trade. He reckons you're the man to do it. Well?"
For all his inexperience of the lives of others the story set a fierce anger raging in his hot, impulsive heart. The unthinkable to him was a man who could so beset a woman. He nodded. "And you trade the pelts with Lorson Harris?" he said. "Sure." Keeko smiled up into his face. It was the shrewd smile of one who approves her own subtlety. "But I divide the catch before I make home.
His wicked black eyes were serious, and, in their seriousness, were never more wicked. "It'll do," he said. "Sure, it'll do. Guess it's a rough map of the trail we're chasing. But it's only the beginning. See, and listen close. Lorson Harris don't care a curse for the trade you make here with these fool neches. You ain't here for that, whatever you happen to think. You're here to make that trail.
"Would I need to remain buried alive there?" he demanded. Tough shook his head. "Get possession of that place, that trade. Out those folks running the trade, and Lorson'll hand you one hundred thousand dollars in cash, and you'll be quit of the North if it suits you that way. You'll be quit of Lorson Harris, too. Well?" "Gee!" Nicol passed a moist palm across his forehead.
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