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Updated: May 27, 2025
"Oh, God," he mentally prayed, "help me, tell me what to do to stop these brutes!" And even then his prayer was answered. The commotion gradually subsided. The men, some with faces scratched and bleeding, were staring in one direction as if they saw a ghost. Keith looked, too, and instead of a ghost he beheld the trembling form of Constance Radhurst.
"What things?" queried Keith, as he carefully unwrapped the precious roots from their thin bark covering. "Why, this splendid bear-skin rug on the floor; that large wolf skin on my father's cot, and those pictures on the walls; they do not belong to us." "Do you mind very much, Miss Radhurst? If you are offended I'll take them away, for it was I who brought them here."
Seizing the pictures in her hand, and drawing the wrap firmly around her body, she left the lodge, glided swiftly and noiselessly down the trail leading to the white settlement, and after a while turned sharply to the left. A queer little bundle she presented as she mounted the hill leading to the Radhurst cabin.
The suspicious thing is, that them letters an' the ones on the poke found in the chist are jist the same." "Very strange," remarked Mr. Radhurst. "Do you remember the letters?" "Yes, there were jist two, 'K. R." At these words, Constance started and rose to her feet. Trembling violently, she approached the miner. Once she put out her hand as if for support.
Here they paused and listened. No light was to be seen, and no human voice could they hear. The camp was deserted. "Let us go farther," suggested Mr. Radhurst. "We may find out something lower down." Through the midst of the lodges they moved for several hundred yards along the high bank of the Kaslo. The waters were now surging tumultuously on their left.
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.
"I tell you I do, and that you, Bill Pritchen, robbed young Kenneth Radhurst, your partner, and left him to die in the lonely Ibex cabin. Deny it if you can." "I do deny it, and I ask you to prove it. You can't do it, and what's more, I'll make you eat your words, and a bitter dose they'll be, too." Pritchen was making a bluff. His speech was fierce, but his courage was failing.
It was like a ray of sunshine to his clouded heart, a light in the darkness, peace in the midst of storm, and a faint smile crossed his face the first in many days. Tender hands bore Old Pete over the trail to the Radhurst cabin and laid him upon the couch within. Outside, the miners stood in little groups waiting, but hardly knowing what they were waiting for.
"We shall miss you very much, Mr. Steadman. You have been the means of brightening us up, and helping my poor father. Life to me here is almost unbearable, and I wonder how you can stay in the North year after year. How lonely you must find it." Keith turned and looked into her eyes. "Miss Radhurst," he replied, "they have been the happiest years of my life.
'What chance had I to tell with all yez agin me, ruinin' my Injun flock, an' playin' that mean trick upon me in sendin' me to Siwash Crik? De yez think I'd care to tell ye?" "What trick?" asked Mr. Radhurst. "What! ye never heered?" "No, not a word." "No? Waal, now, that's queer. It's been the talk of the camp ever since.
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