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Updated: June 8, 2025
He laughed out loud at the thought of doing so within a stone's throw of a fortune and nose-shot of fifty kegs of brandy. As he did so, Bissonnette gave a little cry. They were coming on to Cap de Gloire at the moment, and Tarboe and Joan, looking, saw a boat standing off towards the mainland, as if waiting for them. Tarboe gave a roar, and called to Joan to take the tiller.
Tarboe did not understand, but now his blood was up, and as another volley sent bullets dropping around the two he gave the Ninety-Nine to the wind, and she came bearing down smartly to them. In a few moments they were safely on board, and Joan explained. Tarboe grasped Lafarge's unmaimed hand, the other Joan was caring for, and swore that fighting was the only thing left now. Mr.
John Grier does as much thinking in an hour as most of us do in a month, and with Tarboe he'll beat you dead. Tarboe is young; he's got the vitality of a rhinoceros. He knows the business from the bark on the tree. He's a flyer, is Tarboe, and you might have been in Tarboe's place and succeeded to the business." Fabian threw out his arms. "But no!
Through clouds of rank tobacco smoke, and in the wash of their bean soup, the habitants discussed the fate of "Black Tarboe," and officers of the garrison and idle ladies gossiped at the Citadel and at Murray Bay of the freebooting gentlemen, whose Ninety-Nine had furnished forth many a table in the great walled city.
As Tarboe grasped it in his own big paw, he was conscious of a strength in the grip which told him that the physical capacity of the "painter-fellow," as he afterwards called Carnac, had points worthy of respect. On the instant, there was admiration on the part of each admiration and dislike.
Then he put the paper in his pocket, and, with a forced smile and nod to his father and Tarboe, left the office. "That's queer. The letter seemed to get him in the vitals," said John Grier with surprise. Tarboe nodded, and said to himself: "It's a woman all right." He smiled to himself also. He had wondered why Carnac and Junia Shale had not come to an understanding.
"Is the little devil all right?" he whispered. Denzil spoke: "Yes. This is the second time M'sieu' Carnac has saved my life." Carnac intervened. "Tell me, Tarboe, what shall you do, now you know the truth?" At last Tarboe thrust out a hand. "I don't know the truth," he said. By this Carnac knew that Denzil was safe from the law.
"Go away, Carnac, please now," she said softly. A moment afterwards he was gone. John Grier's business had beaten all past records. Tarboe was everywhere: on the river, in the saw-mills, in the lumber-yards, in the office. Health and strength and goodwill were with him, and he had the confidence of all men in the lumber-world.
"Not for ten thousand, but in two years' time or to-morrow for a hundred and fifty times that if you want it." Carnac shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you're driving at, Tarboe. Two years from now or to-morrow I can draw on you for a hundred and fifty times ten thousand dollars! What does that mean?
As yet he had never seen Tarboe he had been away in the country the whole year nearly but he imagined a man of strength, abilities, penetration and deep power.
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