Part 14 (2/2)

Over in the mess-house we had the long room to ourselves, except for the cook pottering over his fire. And in the midst of the meal I bethought me to tell Barreau of the two strangers, and Montell's account of their mission. He laid down his knife and fork and listened intently.

”Free traders, eh?” he drawled. ”Not so bad for Montell, that-or has the Company taken a fresh tack, I wonder? They knew I was away. I had a feeling that we were being watched, and so had Hull. Quite an engrossing little three-cornered game, isn't it, Bob?”

We left the cookhouse without referring to this again. A light shone dully through the store window nearest us, and we walked toward our cabin, and just short of the door Barreau turned aside.

”I may as well go and tell him that the brothers Grau have gone over to the enemy,” he said to me. ”Come along, Bob, and see him squirm. He always does when he is stabbed in such a vital point as the purse.

That's a veritable heel of Achilles with him.”

Montell was alone. He stood with his back to the fire, legs spread apart, hands clasped behind him. He looked very well satisfied with himself. His little eyes surveyed us placidly from under the blinking, puffy lids.

”Well, George, you're back, eh?” he observed. ”How's everything below?”

”Very well, I dare say,” Barreau answered, during the process of making a cigarette, ”from the other fellow's point of view.”

Montell's eyelids drew a little nearer together.

”How's that?” he inquired, in his mildest manner.

And Barreau, when he had found a box to his liking and seated himself on it beside the fire, proceeded to tell him very much as he had told me.

The two of them eyed each other a few seconds. Then Montell bit the end off the cigar he had tucked in one corner of his thick-lipped mouth and spat it viciously into the fireplace.

”G.o.d d.a.m.n 'em!” he snarled. But whether the Company or the two Frenchmen he did not specify-perhaps both. Barreau laughed softly.

”Don't let your angry pa.s.sions rise,” he sneered. ”Temper always induces apoplexy in fat people. A man of your beefy tendency should be very careful.”

Montell's heavy jowl quivered slightly, and his jaws clamped together.

Aside from that he kept an impa.s.sive front. With that last shot Barreau turned his gaze to the fire, and as Montell stood staring intently before him there was an interval of silence. In the hush a scuffling sound arose in the rear of the store.

”Them darned rats,” Montell muttered.

He c.o.c.ked his head aside and stood in a listening att.i.tude, I, watching him un.o.btrusively, saw his glance flit furtively from me to Barreau and then to a table standing just back from the hearth. For the first time I noticed then that a rifle lay upon it, the general direction of the muzzle toward Barreau. Again he looked swiftly from me to George, and then stared straight away into the black shadows that shrouded the far end of the long room. Once more the rustling and sc.r.a.ping sounds could be heard.

”Them darned rats,” he repeated. ”They'll eat us out before spring.”

He left the fire and stole softly back among the shadows, whence presently came the noise of something being thrown, followed by Montell's voice cursing the rats.

Barreau had not once turned his head. But I had watched Mr. Simon Montell as much because his actions interested me as because I expected anything to happen. And I distinctly saw the rifle s.h.i.+ft its position when he pa.s.sed the table end; as if he had accidentally brushed against the projecting stock. Accidentally or otherwise, the muzzle then pointed straight at Barreau. I have a deep-rooted aversion to seeing the business end of a gun directed at a man unless such is the intention of the man behind it. Loaded or empty, my father taught me, never point a gun at anybody unless you mean to hurt him. And so I reached over and gave the rifle a hitch that pointed it toward the opposite wall, just as Montell returned from his rat hunting.

”By thunder, I'd oughto took that to 'em,” he declared-as if he had but noticed the rifle.

He placed himself before the fire again. In a minute or so came the subdued rustling of the rats. Montell winked at me, picked up the Winchester, c.o.c.ked it, and went tip-toeing toward the rear. Barreau came out of his study at the click of the hammer. He flashed a quick glance after Montell. Then quietly he moved his box backward till his body, when he seated himself, was no longer clearly outlined in the firelight.

The rat activities ceased. After a time Montell came poking back again, carrying the rifle in his right hand. As he reached the end of the table, so close to me that I could have touched him, and within six feet of Barreau, he stumbled, pitched sharply forward, and the report of the gun made my heart leap.

With the forward lurch of Montell's body Barreau cast himself backward like an uncoiled spring, and fell full length, thus escaping the bullet.

He made no attempt to rise, simply rolled over on his side. For an instant a pistol glinted in his hand, and his thin lips were drawn back from his white, even teeth. As quickly as he had drawn it he thrust the six-shooter back out of sight. The habitual unruffled expression came back to his face as Montell got upon his feet, leaving the rifle upon the floor. Barreau sat up then.

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