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Updated: May 11, 2025
With Constance leading, and the miners joining in the chorus, it was a time never to be forgotten at Klassan. Pritchen was a surly witness of this marvellous transformation. Regaining his feet, he tried to speak to his men. But they had forgotten him in the new excitement.
As in the other cabins, they at once set to work and the place was thoroughly searched. Several tried the lid of the chest, but, finding it locked, desisted. At length Pritchen drew near, and seized the cover with both hands. "Hello! this is locked!" he exclaimed. "Let's have the key." Keith had thought of the chest, and the picture lying within.
Keith was much with him during the first few days. He knew the importance of keeping his mind filled with fresh, bright thoughts, and not allowing him to brood upon Pritchen and the terrible scene at the saloon. He told him stories of his experience among the Indians, and many of their quaint ways. At times Joe would laugh heartily at some amusing incident, and eagerly ask for more.
"Yes, there were two men, but one got away, and the Quelchies could not catch him." At once there flashed into Keith's mind the story Constance had told him of the prospector who had died in the Vancouver Hospital, and the map he had entrusted to her. He had seen the sketch and it corresponded exactly with this locality. Was it the place, he wondered, where Pritchen and Kenneth had been?
For days, the power of the Man of Sorrows had been making itself felt in the old chief's heart, and then the picture of Moses was laid aside. But in an evil moment Pritchen had arrived, demanded the photograph of Kenneth Radhurst, and roused the chief's anger. In Indian and broken English he had vented upon the white man the fury of his wrath, and refused to grant his request.
Nothing, so far, had been discovered, and the men peered at one another through the darkness. "Well," said Perdue, "we've had all this work for nothing, and I'm sick of the job." "But we're not through yet," replied Pritchen sharply. "There are several more to visit, your own, the Radhurst cabin, and the mission house, to say nothing of the Indian shacks."
For days Pritchen had steered clear of his hated opponent, and had not met him face to face since the shooting affray in the saloon. His anger, which burned like a fire in his heart, had become much intensified since then by the change affairs had taken.
Then they realized the whole situation. Their leader, their chosen guide, was in danger, and had been grossly insulted by the white man. They leaped to their feet, bore down upon the struggling pair, and tore away the fingers from the catechist's throat. Pritchen had over-stepped the mark, and had brought the storm upon his own head.
With an oath upon his lips he sprang for the trail, leaving the missionary gazing after him with a troubled mind. Keith had thrust deep into the villain's heart. He had wounded him sore, but he felt no sense of elation, for he knew he was contending with a vile serpent in human guise. Pritchen proceeded at a rapid pace through the Indian village, and down to the miners' cabins.
They jist played with 'im like a cat plays with a mouse. But at last it was ended, an' Pritchen, who was chairman, stood up, an', said he: "'We give ye yer chice; hit the trail in two hours, or stay here an' take yer dose from us. "I kin see the parson standin' thar now with a wonnerful look on his face.
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