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Raw Gold

Chapter 9 AN IDLE AFTERNOON.

Word Count: 2310    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

uld better do after I'd gone with the squad of redcoats to those graves and helped bring the bodies in. Even if I had a pack

ld be if a bunch of non-treaty Indians ever got within gunshot of him. I damned Major Lessard earnestly for what I considered his injustice to MacRae, and wondered if he would send his troopers out to look for that hypotheti

ing this over in my mind, a Policeman with the insignia of a sergeant on his sleeve

friendly nod. "You're the man that

ly admitted

illed," he informed me. "He said that you were going along, and so I though

eady," I a

connection, but it's more comfortable over there. Good place to lop about, y' know;

, and our conversation slackened so that I had a chance to observe my surroundings. It was a big place, probably fifty feet by a hundred, and quite a number of redcoats were sprinkled about, some reading, some writing letters, and two or three groups playing cards. None of them paid any attention to me, beyond an occasional disinterested glance, until my roving eyes reached a point directly behind me. Then I became aware that one of a bunch of four poker-players a few

he shoulders, and his thick, heavy-boned wrists showed hairy as an ape's when he stretched his arms to deal the cards. Aside from his physical proportions, there was nothing about the man to set him apart from his fellows. Half a dozen

d rather than pastime, for Goodell paid for his little pile of white beans in good, gold coin of the realm. Next to playing a little "draw" myself, I like to watch the game, and so I moved over where I could see the bets made and the hands exhibited. And there I stuck till "stables" sounded

to my horse, Bat P

sing his stripes and getting thirty days

" I answered

o some one who would understand my point of view, I told Bat all about it-omitting any mention of the gold-dust. Only four men, Dobson the

, too. Darned if that don't sound queer t' me; what else could he do? But Lessard's a overbearin' son-of-a-gun all round, and he's always breakin' out

hour of nine with a great internal whirring, some one tapped lightly on the door. Bat himself answered the knock. His body shut off sight of whoever stood outside. I could just catch the murmur of a subdued voice. After a few seconds of listeni

n't warn you to be careful. I don't think he believed our yarn, at all. If he refuses to act, stay here till I get out. Th

word about Lyn. Th

t you?" I said to Bat. "How

n't help Mac if he got half a show; he's a white man. It's easy for a prisoner t' slip a note to a frie

h, I thought; and it would be rather unhealthy for those prairie pirates to match themselves against a b

on my boots and went to feed my horse. And when we had eaten breakfast I headed straight for Lessard's private quarters. I expected he would object to talking business out of business hours, but I didn't care; I wanted to k

ing the genuine article-I didn't like the man and it galled me to ask anything of him. "I

ngly curt, but I pocketed

nk Rowan was my friend. I'd go out of my way any time to help his daughter. Will you send four o

nded. "Writing-Stone ridge is ten miles long. What chance would you have of finding anything in a territory of that ex

ed, and that the gold was hidden at Writing-Stone. And Lessard, as I said before, had passed up the gold episode at the time; all his concern seemed to be for the robbers' apprehension, which was natural enough since a

g if one were on the spot, but MacRae had kept that to himself-and I wasn't running a bureau of information for Lessard's benefit. The Canadian government might trust him, but I wouldn't-not if he took oath on a stack of Bibles, and gave a cast-iron bond to play fair. I couldn't give any sound reason for feeling that way, beyond the shabby treatment he'd given MacRae. But somehow the man's personality grated on me. Lessard was of the type, ra

ow the country. Lyn Rowan's kinfolk are few and far between, now;

ossibility of finding it-well, I'll see what can be done, after

odd

f the detail. You'll probably fi

. had no string on me; I never took orders from anybody in that tone of voice, and I wanted to shake a defiant fist under the autocratic major's nose and tell him so

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