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"And were you there, sir, when Horrocks was captured?" "No, I was not. After you came to my place and went on to the camp, I was very uneasy. So, after a bit, I got my 'hands' together and prepared to follow you up there. Just as I was about to set out," he went on, turning to the doctor and Bill, "I met Jacky coming in. Bless you if she hadn't been to see the pusky herself.
I presume your discretion will not permit you to be present at the capture?" It was Horrocks's turn to sneer now. Lablache remained unmoved. He merely permitted the ghost of a smile. "My discretion will not permit me to be present at the pusky. There will be no capture, I fear." "Then I'll bid you good-night. There is no need to further intrude upon your time." "None whatever."
"Not if backed by a man like Retief and all the half-breed camp? You surprise me." Horrocks gritted his teeth but spoke sharply. Lablache's supercilious tone of mockery drove him to the verge of madness. "Not even under these circumstances. I shall attend that pusky and effect the arrest. I understand these people better than you give me credit for.
"Guess I'm going to see the fun I've a notion there'll be some." "But " "Don't 'but' me, Aunt Margaret, I take it you aren't deaf." The old lady relapsed into dignified silence, but there was much concern and a little understanding in her eyes as she watched the girl pass out to the corrals. A pusky is a half-breed dance. That is the literal meaning of the word.
As the story progressed his interest deepened, and at its conclusion he questioned the half-breed closely. "This pusky. I suppose it will be the usual drunken orgie?" "I guess," was the laconic rejoinder. "Any of the Breeds from the other settlements coming over?" "Can't say, boss. Like enough, I take it."
He spends it among his friends. It is good. How much whisky will he buy, think you?" Another voice chipped in at this point, and Horrocks strained his ears to catch the words, for the voice was the voice of a female and her utterance was indistinct. "He said he would pay for everything all we could eat and drink and that the pusky should be held the night after to-morrow.
After some time spent in surveying and considering his plans his thoughts reverted to other matters. This was the night of the half-breed pusky. His great face contorted into a sarcastic smile as he thought of Sergeant Horrocks. He remembered with vivid acuteness every incident of his interview with the officer two nights ago.
It is needless, then, to add, when, speaking of such a man, that, willing or not, he intended that Jacky Allandale should be his. Thoughts of this wild, quarter-breed girl filled his brain as he sat solitary in his little office on the night of the pusky. He sat in his favorite chair, in his favorite position.
The two days before the half-breed pusky passed quickly enough for some of those who are interested, and dragged their weary lengths all too slowly for others. At last, however, in due course the day dawned, and with it hopes and fears matured in the hearts of not a few of the denizens of Foss River and the surrounding neighborhood. To all appearance the most unconcerned man was the Hon.
He hesitated before he passed out. "Say, sergeant, you ain't goin' fur to try an' take 'im at the pusky?" he asked, with an appearance of anxiety. "That's my business. Why?" The Breed shrugged. "Ye'll feed the coyotes, sure as kingdom come. Say they'll jest flay the pelt off yer." "Git!" The rascal "got" without further delay or evil prophecy. He knew Horrocks.
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