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For it believed he was bad, and it believed he had killed Jed Hawkins, and he knew that seven hundred men were anxious to get him, dead or alive. But was he bad? He took the matter up one evening, with Peter. "If I'm bad, mebby it isn't all my fault, Pied-Bot," he said. "Mebby it's this " and he swept his arms out to the gathering night.
Game came into the country I left them well supplied and skipped. That was what made me an outlaw, Pied-Bot. That!" He chuckled, and Peter heard the rubbing of his hands in the gloom. "Want to know why?" he asked. "Well, you see, I went over to the Free Trader's, and this God the law don't take into account went with me, and we found the skunk alone. First I licked him until he was almost dead.
"And we're GOING to," finished McKay, almost fiercely, his hands clenching as he leaned toward Peter. "We have made a big mistake, Pied-Bot, and it has taken us a long time to see it. It will be hard for us to leave our north country, but that is what we must do. Maybe Yellow Bird's good spirits meant that when they said we would find happiness with Nada in a place called The Country Beyond.
"It's coming soon, Peter. I'm expecting it. Something is happening which she won't tell us about. She is afraid for me. I know it. But I'm going to find out soon. And then, Pied-Bot, I think we'll probably kill Jed Hawkins, and hit for the North."
This afternoon, as they lay in the sleepy quiet of June, Jolly Roger answered the questioning inquisitiveness in Peter's face and eyes. "You see, Pied-Bot, it was this way," he said, beginning a little apologetically. "I was dying for something to read, and I figgered there'd be something on the Mail newspapers, you know. So I stopped it, and tied up the driver, and found these.
"It would have been murder for us to bring her, Pied-Bot. It would have been murder!" He looked about him at the swirling chaos outside the rim of light made by his fire and listened to the moaning of the wind over the treetops. Beyond the circle of light the dry snow, which crunched like sand under his feet, was lost in ghostly gloom. It was forty degrees below zero.
A long time ago someone gave Cassidy what they call an assignment, and in that assignment it says 'go get Jolly Roger McKay, dead or alive' or something to that effect. And Cassidy has been on the job ever since. But he can't quite catch up with me, Pied-Bot. I'm always a little ahead." And yet, even as he laughed, there was in Jolly Roger's heart a yearning to which he had never given voice.
An hour later they were at its door. Jolly Roger opened it and staggered in. For a space he stood leaning against the wall while his lungs drank in the warmer air. The intake of his breath made a whistling sound and he was surprised to find himself so near exhaustion. He heard the thud of Peter's body as it collapsed to the floor. "Tired, Pied-Bot?"
If I told her, she would think I was worse than Jed Hawkins, and she wouldn't believe me if I told her I've outlawed with my wits instead of a gun, and that I've never criminally hurt a person in my life. No, she wouldn't believe that, Peter. And she she cares for me, Pied-Bot. That's the hell of it! And she's got faith in me, and would go with me to the Missioner's tomorrow. I know it.
"We could have a big house here if we wanted to dig out rooms eh, Peter? Parlors, and bed-rooms, and a library and not a policeman within a million miles of us. That's the nice part of it, PIED-BOT none of the Royal Mounties to trouble us. They would never think of looking for us in the heart of a big snow-dune out in this God-forsaken barren, would they?"
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