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Updated: July 19, 2025
The latter had edged close and was staring curiously at him. He spoke now, saying: "So you're Phillips, eh?" It was Joe who replied: "Sure. This is him." There was no need of an introduction. Pierce recognized the stranger as another McCaskey, for the family likeness was stamped upon his features.
Pierce blinked; he found that his jaw had dropped in amazement. McCaskey enjoyed the sensation he had created; he leered at his former camp-mate, and in his expression was a hint of that same venom he had displayed when he had run the gauntlet at Sheep Camp after his flogging, He broke the spell of Pierce's amazement and proved himself to be indeed a reality by uttering a greeting.
"Woman!" said Mr. McCaskey, dashing his coat and hat upon a chair, "the noise of ye is an insult to me appetite. When ye run down politeness ye take the mortar from between the bricks of the foundations of society. 'Tis no more than exercisin' the acrimony of a gentleman when ye ask the dissent of ladies blockin' the way for steppin' between them.
The Mounted Policeman had got his men, as usual, but only after a desperate affray in which Frank McCaskey had fallen and the officer himself had been wounded so ran the first account. Those who had gone as far as the Barracks returned with a fanciful tale of a siege in the snow and of Rock's single- handed conquest of the two fugitives.
For a few moments nothing was said, and meanwhile the search of the tent went on. When Pierce could no longer remain silent he broke out: "There's some mistake. These boys packed this grub from Dyea and I helped with some of it." "Aren't you partners?" some one inquired. Joe McCaskey answered this question. "No. He landed broke. We felt sorry for him and took him in."
McCaskey below one eye. When she replied with a well-aimed coffee-pot full of a hot, black, semi-fragrant liquid the battle, according to courses, should have ended. But Mr. McCaskey was no 50-cent table d'hoter. Let cheap Bohemians consider coffee the end, if they would. Let them make that faux pas. He was foxier still. Finger-bowls were not beyond the compass of his experience.
"You thought I was blind. You thought I was like these other cattle. But I know to a dollar " He turned to the crowd. "Here! I will prove what I say. McCaskey, bear me out." With a show of some reluctance Frank, the younger and the smaller of the two brothers, nodded to the Police lieutenant. "He's giving you the straight goods.
It was like the battle of a man with a beast ferocious, merciless while it lasted. They rocked about the cabin, heedless of the wounded man; the stove came crashing down and they trampled the pipe under their feet. But McCaskey collapsed as suddenly as he had flown to action. When 'Poleon trussed him up he had neither strength nor spirit either for resistance or for resentment.
"'Tis Missis Murphy's voice," said Mrs. McCaskey, harking. "She says she's after finding little Mike asleep behind the roll of old linoleum under the bed in her room." Mr. McCaskey laughed loudly. "That's yer Phelan," he shouted, sardonically. "Divil a bit would a Pat have done that trick.
For a second or two it shed a sickly blue radiance sufficient only to silhouette a pair of hands cupped over it; then, as the flame ignited the tiny shaft, it burst into a yellow glow and sent the shadows of the cabin leaping. Joe McCaskey uttered a cry, a scream. The flame was crushed in his palms and again the cabin was ink black.
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