Part 50 (2/2)
”Get out!” Boyd ordered, in such a tone that the speaker obeyed with ludicrous haste.
”Fingerless” Fraser broke the silence that fell upon the young man's exit.
”He's a nice little feller! I never knew one of those narrow-chested, five-o'clock-tea-drinkers that was on the level. He's got eighteen fancy vests, and wears a handkerchief up his sleeve. That put him in the end book with me, to start with.”
”Did you know Cherry before you came to Kalvik?” Boyd asked, searching his companion's face with a look the man could not evade.
”Only casual.”
”Where?”
”Nome--the year of the big rush.”
”During the mining troubles, eh?”
”Sure.”
”What was she doing?”
”Minding her business. She's good at that.” Fraser's eyes had become green and fishy, as usual.
”What do you know about her?”
”Well, I know that a lot of fellows would 'go through' for her at the drop of a hat. She could have most anything they've got, I guess. Most any of them miners at Nome would give his right eye, or his only child, or any little thing like that if she asked it.”
”What else?”
”Well, she was always considered a right good-looking party--”
”Yes, yes, of course. But what do you know about the girl herself? Who is she? What is her history?”
”Now, sir, I'm an awful poor detective,” confessed ”Fingerless” Fraser.
”I've often noticed that about myself. If I was the kind that goes snooping around into other people's business, listening to all the gossip I'm told, I'd make a good witness. But I ain't. No, sir! I'm a rotten witness.”
Despite this indirect rebuke, Boyd might have continued his questioning had not George Balt's heavy step sounded outside. A moment later the big fellow entered.
”What did you find at the traps?” asked Emerson, eagerly.
”Nothing.” George spoke shortly. ”The fish struck in this morning, but our trap is corked.” He wrenched off his rubber boots and flung them savagely under a bench.
”What luck with the boats?”
”Not much. Marsh's men are trying to surround our gill-netters, and we ain't got enough boats to protect ourselves.” He looked up meaningly from under his heavy brows, and inquired: ”How much longer are we going to stand for this?”
”What do you mean? I've got men out hunting for new hands.”
”You know what I mean,” the giant rumbled, his red eyes flaming. ”You and I can get Willis Marsh.”
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