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Updated: May 22, 2025
Then we will stake our town lots and sell them for ever so much money, and go around with our noses in the air, and they will say to each other: "'Who is that beautiful lady with the fine clothes? and somebody will answer: "'Why, that is Miss Necia Gale, the mine-owner. And then you will come along, and they will say: "'That is Lieutenant Burrell, the millionaire, and "
Gale likewise left the store and went into his house, the odd look still strong in his eyes, to find Necia posing in her new regalia for Poleon's benefit. At sight of her he fell into a strange and unexpected humor, and to their amazement commanded her roughly to take the things off.
But it was the thought of Necia and the horrible net of evil in which this man had ensnared them both that galled him most. It was all a terrible tangle, in which the truth was hopelessly hidden, and nothing but harm could come from attempting to unravel it. There was but one solution, and that, though fundamental and effective, was not to be expected from an officer of the law.
He peered at the approaching officer a moment, set his jaw more firmly, and disappeared into the store. "Well, we have raised our flag-staff," said the Lieutenant as he took a seat below Necia. "It's like getting settled to keep house." "Are you lazy?" inquired the girl. "I dare say I am," he admitted. "I've never had time to find out. Why?"
If Necia had gone up-river on the freighter, pursuit was hopeless, for no boatman could make headway against the current; but if, on the other hand, that cedar craft was gone He ran out of Stark's house and down to the river-bank, then leaped to the shingle beneath.
Don't get excited. Whew! I had quite a run." Gale paused in his tracks and looked at the young man queerly. "What do you mean?" "I've jumped those claims myself." "YOU jumped them!" cried Necia. "Sure! I changed my mind about staking." "It's a lie!" cried Runnion, at which Burrell whirled on him. "I've been waiting for this, Runnion ever since you came back. Now "
"It's no good mak' fight wit' lesser dan two people. You've tol' me dat you are gentleman. Wal, I ain' nobody but trapper an' trader, but I don' spoil de name of no good girl, an' I don' quarrel in presence of lady, so mebbe, affer all, dere's mistak' somew'ere, an' I'm gentleman mese'f 'stead of you." "Why, you aren't really angry, Lieutenant?" mocked Necia.
It don't take much 'savvy' to run a handful of thirteen-dollar-a-month soldiers." Necia stirred a bit restlessly, and the trader continued: "It ain't man's work, it's loafing. If he tries to boss us he'll get QUITE a surprise." "He won't try to boss you. He has been sent here to build a military post, and to protect the miners in their own self-government.
I have hated your enemies because you hated them, and now I remember while you forget." "Forget! What do you mean?" "Stark!" The man paused. "I did almost forget him and after fifteen years!" "Let us kill him to-night; then we will go to the soldier together, side by side I am your woman. Necia will look after the little ones."
"Have you heard the news from the creeks?" "No." "Your claims are blanks; your men have quit." The Frenchman shook his head sadly, then smiled a wistful little smile. "Wal, it's better I lose dan you or Necia; I ain' de lucky kin', dat's all; an', affer all, w'at good to me is riche gol'-mine? I ain' got no use for money any more."
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