The Yukon Trail: A Tale of the North
CHAPTER XXII
GID HOLT COMES TO KUSIAK
The days grew short. In sporting circles the talk was no longer of themidnight Fourth of July baseball game, but of preparation for the AlaskaSweepstakes, since the shadow of the cold Arctic winter had crept downto the Yukon and touched its waters to stillness. Men, gathered aroundwarm stoves, spoke of the merits of huskies and Siberian wolf-hounds, ofthe heavy fall of snow in the hills, of the overhauling of outfits andthe transportation of supplies to distant camps.
The last river boat before the freeze-up had long since gone. A monthearlier the same steamer had taken down in a mail sack the preliminaryreport of Elliot to his department chief. One of the passengers on thattrip had been Selfridge, sent out to counteract the influence of theevidence against the claimants submitted by the field agent. Aninformation had been filed against Gordon for highway robbery andattempted murder. Wally was to see that the damning facts against himwere brought to the attention of officials in high places where thecharges would do most good. The details of the story were to be held inreserve for publicity in case the muckrake magazines should try to makecapital of the report of Elliot.
Kusiak found much time for gossip during the long nights. It knewthat Macdonald had gone on the bond of Elliot in spite of the scornfulprotest of the younger man. The two gave each other chilly nods ofgreeting when they met, but friends were careful not to invite them tothe same social affairs. The case against the field agent was pending.Pursuit of the miners who had robbed the big mine-owner had long agobeen dropped. Somewhere in the North the outlaws lay hidden, swallowedup by the great white waste of snow.
The general opinion was that Mac was playing politics about the trialof his rival. He would not let the case come to a jury until the timewhen a conviction would have most effect in the States, the gossipspredicted. They did not know that he was waiting for the return ofWally Selfridge.
The whispers touched closely the personal affairs of Macdonald. Thereport of his engagement to Sheba O'Neill had been denied, but it wasnoticed that he was a constant guest at the home of the Pagets. YoungElliot called there too. Almost any day one or other of the two mencould be seen with Sheba on the street. Those who wanted to take asporting chance on the issue knew that odds were offered _sub rosa_at the Pay Streak saloon of three to one on Mac.
As for Sheba, she rebelled impotently at the situation. The mine-ownerwould not take "No" for an answer. He wooed her with a steady, dominantpersistence that shook even her strong, young will. There was somethingresistless in the way he took her for granted. Gordon Elliot had notmentioned love to her, though there were times when her heart flutteredfor fear he would. She did not want any more complications. She wantedto be let alone. So when an invitation came from her little friends theHusteds, signed by all three of the children, asking her to come andvisit them at the camp back of Katma, the Irish girl jumped at thechance to escape for a time from the decision being forced upon her.
Sheba pledged her cousin to secrecy until after she had gone, so thatMiss O'Neill was able to slip away on the stage unnoticed either byMacdonald or Elliot. The only other passenger was an elderly woman goingup to the Katma camp to take a place as cook.
Later on the same day Wally Selfridge, coming in over the ice, reachedKusiak with important news for his chief. He brought with him an orderfrom Winton, Commissioner of the General Land Office, suspending Elliotpending an investigation of the charges against him. The field agent wasto forward by mail all documents in his possession and for the time, atleast, drop the matter of the coal claims.
Oddly enough, it was to Genevieve Mallory that Macdonald went forconsolation when he learned that Sheba had left town. He had alwaysfound it very pleasant to drop in for a chat with her, and she saw toit that he met the same friendly welcome now that a rival had annexedhis scalp to her slender waist. For Mrs. Mallory did not concede defeat.If the Irish girl could be eliminated, she believed she would yet win.
His hostess laced her fingers behind her beautiful, tawny head, quitewell aware that the attitude set off the perfect modeling of the soft,supple body. She looked up at him with a mocking little smile.
"Rumor says that she has run away, my lord. Is it true?"
"Yes. Slipped away on the stage this morning."
"That's a good sign. She was afraid to stay."
It was a part of the fiction between them that Mrs. Mallory was to givehim the benefit of her advice in his wooing of her rival. She seemed totake it for granted that he would at last marry Sheba after wearing awaythe rigid Puritanism of her resentment.
Macdonald had never liked her so well as now. Her point of view was sosane, so reasonable. It asked for no impossible virtues in a man. Therewas something restful in her genial, derisive understanding of him. Shehad a silent divination of his moods and ministered indolently to them.
"Do you think so? Ought I to follow her?" he asked.
She showed a row of perfect teeth in a low ripple of amusement. Thesituation at least was piquant, even though it was at her expense.
"No. Give the girl time. Catch her impulse on the rebound. She'll bebored to death at Katma and she will come back docile."
Her scarlet lips, the long, unbroken lines of the sinuous, opulent body,the challenge of the smouldering eyes, the warmth of her laughter, allinvited him to forget the charms of other women. The faint feminineperfume of her was wafted to his brain. He felt a besieging of theblood.
Stepping behind the chair in which she sat, he tilted back the head oflustrous bronze, and very deliberately kissed her on the lips.
For a moment she gave herself to his embrace, then pushed him back,rose, and walked across the room to a little table. With fingers thattrembled slightly she lit a cigarette. Sheathed in her close-fittinggown, she made a strong carnal appeal to him, but there was betweenthem, too, a close bond of the spirit. He made no apologies, noexplanation.
Presently she turned and looked at him. Only the deeper color beneathher eyes betrayed any excitement.
"Unless I'm a bad prophet you'll get the answer you want when she comesback, Colby."
He thought her reply to his indiscretion superb. It admitted complicity,reproached, warned, and at the same time ignored. Never before had shecalled him by his given name. He took it as a token of forgiveness andrenunciation.
Why was it not Genevieve Mallory that he wanted to marry? It would bethe wise thing to do. She would ask nothing of him that he could notgive, and she would bring to him many things that he wanted. But he wasunder the spell of Sheba's innocence, of the mystery of her youth, ofthe charm she had brought with her from the land of fairies andbanshees. The reasonable course made just now not enough appeal to him.He craved the rapture of an impossible adventure into a world wonderful.
The mine-owner carried with him back to his office a sense of the futileirony of life. A score of men would have liked to marry Mrs. Mallory.She had all the sophisticated graces of life and much of the naturalcharm of an unusually attractive personality. He had only to speak theword to win her, and his fancy had flown in pursuit of a little Puritanwith no knowledge of the world.
In front of the Seattle & Kusiak Emporium the Scotchman stopped. Alittle man who had his back to him was bargaining for a team of huskies.The man turned, and Macdonald recognized him.
"Hello, Gid. Aren't you off your usual beat a bit?" he asked.
The little miner looked him over impudently. "Well--well! If it ain'tthe Big Mogul himself--and wantin' to know if I've got permission totravel off the reservation."
Macdonald laughed tolerantly. He had that large poise which is notdisturbed by the sand stings of life.
"I reckon you travel where you want to, Gid,--same as I do."
"Maybeso. I shouldn't wonder if you'd find out quite soon enough whatI'm doing here. You never can tell," the old man retorted with a mannerthat concealed volumes.
Those who were present remembered the words and in the light of whattook place later thought them signific
ant.
"Anyhow, it is quite a social event for Kusiak," Macdonald suggestedwith a smile of irony.
THE SITUATION AT LEAST WAS PIQUANT, EVEN THOUGH IT WASAT HER EXPENSE]
Without more words Holt turned back to his bargaining. The big Scotchmanwent on his way, remembered that he wanted to see the cashier of thebank which he controlled, and promptly forgot that old Gid existed.
The old man concluded his purchase and drove up to the hotel behind oneof the best dog teams in Alaska. He had paid one hundred dollars downand was to settle the balance next day.
Gideon asked a question of the porter.
"Second floor. That's his room up there," the man answered, pointing toa window.
"Oh, you, seven--eighteen--ninety-nine," the little miner shouted up.
Elliot appeared at the window. "Well, I'll be hanged! What are you doinghere, Old-Timer?"
"Onct I knew a man lived to be a grandpa minding his own business,"grinned the little man. "Come down and I'll tell you all about it, boy."
In half a minute Gordon was beside him. After the first greetings theyoung man nodded toward the dog team.
"How did you persuade Tim Ryan to lend you his huskies?"
"Why don't you take a paper and keep up with the news, son? Thesehuskies don't belong to Tim."
"Meaning that Mr. Gideon Holt is the owner?"
"You've done guessed it," admitted the miner complacently.
He had a right to be proud of the team. It was a famous one even in theNorth. It had run second for two years in the Alaska Sweepstakes toMacdonald's great Siberian wolf-hounds. The leader Butch was the hero ofa dozen races and a hundred savage fights.
"What in Halifax do you want with the team?" asked Elliot, surprised."The whole outfit must have cost a small fortune."
"Some dust," admitted Gideon proudly. He winked mysteriously at Gordon."I got a use for this team, if any one was to ask you."
"Haven't taken the Government mail contract, have you?"
"Not so you could notice it. I'll tell you what I want with this team,as the old sayin' is." Holt lowered his voice and narrowed slyly hislittle beadlike eyes. "I'm going to put a crimp in Colby Macdonald.That's what I aim to do with it."
"How?"
The miner beckoned Elliot closer and whispered in his ear.