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Updated: May 11, 2025
They realized when it was too late how far they had been led by Pritchen, and they naturally felt very sore. Many were the furtive glances cast towards the smouldering ruins of the mission house, while visions of revenging natives filled their minds. For days Perdue's store was packed with anxious men, discussing the affair in no uncertain language.
"And you sell the stuff?" "Yes." "Oh, then, that's what Pritchen and Perdue meant. I didn't understand them at the time." "Why, what did they say?" asked Keith. "They said a lot; told what a grafter you are, that you supply the Indians with all sorts of things, take their furs in return, and are making a fortune out of them, all under the cloak of religion." "And did they say that?"
"Take back them words, or by heavens I'll pin ye to the wall!" Pritchen was taken by surprise, it was easy to see that. He had reckoned on a disturbance, but had not expected the sudden action of Caribou Sol. Inwardly he cursed his men for their slowness in stirring up the meeting. He wished to remain in the background in order to further his future designs.
"But mebbe yer right when I come to think of it. An' I guess thar are many more of us who are weak fools, too, fer what do we do? Walk right into a saloon an' see writin' there plainer than on the walls of Bill Shazzar's palace, which doesn't need a Dann'l to tell its meanin', either." "I never saw any writing on saloons," sneered Pritchen.
"What in h do you know about it?" came a surly response, and, glancing quickly around, Keith looked into the scowling face of Pritchen, with his revolver still in his hand. He was standing in a defiant attitude, with his back to the wall, as if expecting an attack for the deed he had committed.
His mind was much troubled, and after his frugal repast he sat for a long time by the cheerful fire. Pritchen was the disturbing element, and he shivered as he thought of the man. He had not expected to find him here, working havoc among his flock. His wicked, leering face stood out clearly before him. How he had changed. What a monster he had become. If Nellie knew all.
Pritchen was prepared for this, and with a well-directed blow sent the Indian reeling backwards. Recovering himself, however, with great agility, the catechist again rushed forward, dodged a second blow, and grappled with his opponent.
"Hold on!" called out one of the miners. "Wouldn't it be as well for Bill to stand forth so all can see him?" "Hear, hear!" shouted the men. But Pritchen shrank back, and glanced around as if seeking some avenue of escape. "No, ye don't do that, man," said Caribou Sol, interpreting his thoughts. "Not till we're through with ye, at any rate."
What it all meant, she could not tell, and she wondered what had become of the missionary. When, however, Pritchen had finished his cowardly work, and passed out into the night, Jennie was nowhere to be seen. She had disappeared, bearing with her the secret of the deed of darkness. Another night had shut down over the great Yukon valley, a night of wind and storm.
He didn't seem to hear the chairman's word, fer he was gazin' through the dirty winder, out inter the storm, an' away to the Injun village beyond. "'De ye hear me, damn ye! cried Pritchen, bringin' his fist down upon the table with a bang. 'Why don't ye answer? We can't fool here all day. "Then the parson turned and looked square into his eyes.
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