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Together the two went down to the boat, leaving Necia behind, and not long after Runnion sauntered up to the store and addressed her familiarly. "Hello, Necia! I just heard about the strike on your claim. That's fine and dandy." She acknowledged his congratulations curtly, for although it was customary for most of the old-timers to call her by her Christian name, she resented it from this man.
The Frenchman lost what followed, for a newly dealt hand required study. He scanned his cards, and tossed them face up before the dealer; then he overheard Runnion say: "It's the only one in camp. He might sell it if you offered him enough." At this Stark called one of the men at the bar aside, and the three began to dicker. "Not a cent less," the third man announced, loudly.
"You 'member story I tol' you wan day, two, t'ree mont' ago," Poleon remarked, with apparent evasion, "'bout Johnny Platt w'at I ketch on de Porcupine all et up by skeeter-bugs?" "I do," answered Gale. "Wal," he met their eyes squarely, then drew another long breath from his cigarette "I'm jus' hopin' nobody don' pick it up dis Runnion feller de same way.
Impelled by an irresistible desire to learn something about the man, the Lieutenant loitered after Runnion and his companion, and entered the store in time to see the latter greet "No Creek" Lee, the prospector, who had come into town for more food. Both men spoke with quiet restraint. "Nine years since I saw you, Stark," said the miner. "Where you bound?"
He turned to Doret, but the Frenchman waved him courteously to Stark, and, when both he and Runnion had made their choice, Lee handed him the remaining one, which was next in length to that of the trader. Stark and Runnion qualified in the order they drew, the latter cursing his evil luck. "Never min', ole man," laughed Poleon, "de las' shot she's de sure wan."
When he had finished his accounting with the Indian and dismissed him, she turned an agitated face to the Frenchman. "Poleon," she said, "I'm in trouble. Oh, I'm in such awful trouble!" "It's dat Runnion! I seen 'im pass on de store w'ile I'm down below." His brows knit in a black scowl, and his voice slid off a pitch in tone. "Wat he say, eh?" "No, no, it's not that.
She saw Runnion more clearly, too, and made out his hateful outlines, though for all else she beheld they might have been miles out upon a placid sea, and so imperceptible was the laggard day's approach that she could not measure the growing light. It was a desolate dawn, and showed no glorious gleams of color.
The red of his lips was blanched, leaving two white streaks against a faded, muddy background, through which came strange and frightful oaths in a bastard tongue. Runnion drew back, fearful, and the older man ceased chopping and let his axe hang loosely in his hand.
"Keep away or I'll fire!" threatened Runnion again; and she screamed, "Don't try it, Poleon, he'll kill you!" At her words Runnion raised his weapon and fired. She heard the woods behind reverberate with the echoes like a sounding-board, saw the white spurt of smoke and the skitter of the bullet as it went wide.
"It's that damned blue-belly!" "When did YOU get here?" said Stark, after a pause. "A few hours ago." "How did you come?" asked Lee. "Black Bear Creek," said the soldier, curtly, at which Runnion broke into profanity. "Better hush," Burrell admonished him; "there's a lady inside," and at that instant Necia showed her laughing face under his arm, while the trader uttered her name in amazement.
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