Part 18 (1/2)

What d'you say, Mr. Banks?”

”You are right, d.i.c.k, according to your lights,” replied the New Yorker.

The trapper looked puzzled.

”He means that you don't know all the particulars of what happened last night,” said Rayton. ”Captain Wigmore got the marked card, right enough, after supper--but I got it twice, before supper. That is the puzzling part of it, d.i.c.k.”

The care-free smile fled from Goodine's handsome and honest countenance.

His dark cheeks paled, and a shadow, starting far down, came up to the surface of his eyes.

”You!” he exclaimed. ”Twice--before supper! That--that looks bad to me.

That's the worst yet.”

”My dear chap, if the silly thing was dealt to me every night, and chucked into my bedroom window every morning, it wouldn't be a jot less silly,” replied Rayton. ”Some idiot, who has heard Jim Harley's story, is trying to have some fun out of it. That is all. It amuses him evidently, and doesn't hurt us.”

d.i.c.k Goodine shook his head. ”I guess it hurt David Marsh,” he said--”whatever it may be. It smashed his arm, an' pretty near drownded him, an' burned his camp, an' about fifty dollars' worth o' gear an'

grub. That don't look much like fun to me--not like fun for the man who gets the card, anyhow. I'll tell you right now, if ever it comes to me I'll light out within the hour, an' hit the trail for my trappin'

grounds over beyond the back o' nowhere.”

”Don't believe it, d.i.c.k.”

”But that's just what I'd do all the same. It ain't natural. It's more nor a game, I tell you--it's like something I've read about, somewheres or other.”

”You're wrong there, d.i.c.k,” said Mr. Banks. ”It is a game--a dangerous one, maybe, but a game, for all that. I'll show you the player, one of these days, as sure as my name is Harvey P. Banks! In the meantime, d.i.c.k, I'll bet you five dollars that if you happened to be picked out to receive those red marks, as Reginald has been picked out--for the same reason, I mean, according to the family tradition--you'd not budge an inch or back water half a stroke. You'd just put your finger to your nose at the warning, as Reginald does, even if you thought Fate, family curses, Spanish ghosts, old Jackson, and the devil were all on your trail.”

The color came back to the trapper's cheeks. He lowered his glance to the toes of his steaming boots on the hearth of the stove, and s.h.i.+fted uneasily in his chair.

”I guess yer right,” he said huskily. ”I guess I'd be brave enough to face it, devil an' all, if I had that reason to be brave. But I ain't got that reason, an' never will have--so I'm scart. I'm a durned ignorant bushwhacker, I reckon. Anyhow, I'm scart.”

Rayton placed a hand on the other's shoulder for a second.

”That is like you,” he said. ”You are more frightened about your friend than you'll ever be about yourself. But cheer up, old man! I don't think Fate will break any canoe poles on me.”

”Fate!” repeated Mr. Banks, laughing merrily. ”Oh, you are safe enough from Fate, Reginald!”

But d.i.c.k Goodine shook his head.

During the morning, Rayton went over to the Harley place. The sun was glowing with a heat as of September, and the snow was already a mixture of slush and mud. d.i.c.k Goodine went about his business; and Mr. Banks sat by the kitchen stove, smoking and struggling with his puzzle. Rayton found Jim Harley in the barnyard. Jim's greeting was emotional. He gripped the Englishman's hand, and looked steadily into his face with troubled eyes.

”I was just going over to see you,” he said. ”I'm glad you're here. I--I feel pretty bad about you, Reginald--mighty bad, I can tell you!”

”For Heaven's sake, Jim, what's the trouble?” asked Rayton. ”What have I done--or what d'you think I've done?”

Harley flushed. ”You know what the trouble is--what is worrying me,” he said. ”You have not done anything. I am thinking of the marked card, as you know very well.”

Rayton laughed, and slapped the other on the back.

”Laugh, if you choose,” returned Harley; ”but I tell you it is no laughing matter. Have you forgotten what I told you about those red crosses? Have you forgotten the manner of my father's death? Great heavens, man, it is nothing to laugh about! Those marks have brought two men to their death. And there's Mars.h.!.+ He came within an inch of being drowned that day his pole broke. Of course, you think I am a fool. You may call me one if you want to. But, for G.o.d's sake, get out of here until the danger pa.s.ses! That's all I ask, Rayton. Get out! Get away from this settlement for a little while!”

The smile left the Englishman's face, and he gaped at his friend in utter astonishment.