Part 96 (1/2)

”Mr. b.u.t.ts, you're the only able-bodied white man in the district that stayed at home.” Corey spoke in his, most judicial style.

Mr. b.u.t.ts must have felt the full significance of so suspicious a fact, but all he said was:

”Y' ought to fix up a notice. Anybody that don't join a stampede will be held guilty o' grand larceny.” Saying this b.u.t.ts had backed a step behind the stove-pipe, and with incredible quickness had pulled out a revolver. But before he had brought it into range, No-Thumb-Jack had struck his arm down, and two or three had sprung at the weapon and wrested it away.

”Search him!”

”No tellin' what else he's got!”

”----and he's so d.a.m.ned handy!”

”Search him!”

Maudie pressed forward as the pinioned man's pockets were turned out.

Only tobacco, a small buckskin bag with less than four ounces of dust, a pipe, and a knife.

”Likely he'd be carrying my stuff about on him!” said she, contemptuous of her own keen interest.

”Get out a warrant to search b.u.t.ts' premises,” said a voice in the crowd.

”McGinty and Johnson are down there now!”

”Think he'd leave anything layin' round?”

Maudie pressed still closer to the beleaguered b.u.t.ts.

”Say, if I make the boys let you go back to Circle, will you tell me where you've hid my money?”

”Ain't got your money!”

”Look at 'im,” whispered Charlie, still so terrified he could hardly stand.

”b.u.t.ts ain't borrowin' no trouble.”

And this formulating of the general impression did b.u.t.ts no good. As they had watched the calm demeanour of the man, under suspicion of what was worse, in their eyes, than murder, there had come over the bystanders a wave of that primitive cruelty that to this hour will wake in modern men and cry as loud as in Judean days, or in the Saga times of Iceland, ”Retribution! Let him suffer! Let him pay in blood!” And here again, on the Yukon, that need of visible atonement to right the crazy injustice of the earth.

Even the women--the others had crowded in--were eager for b.u.t.ts'

instant expiation of the worst crime such a community knows. They told one another excitedly how they'd realised all along it was only a question of time before b.u.t.ts would be tryin' his game up here. n.o.body was safe. Luckily they were on to him. But look! He didn't care a curse. It would be a good night's job to make him care.

Three men had hold of him, and everybody talked at once. Minnie Bryan was sure she had seen him skulking round Maudie's after that lady had gone up the trail, but everybody had been too excited about the stampede to notice particularly.

The Judge and Bonsor were shouting and gesticulating, b.u.t.ts answering bitterly but quietly still. His face was pretty grim, but it looked as if he were the one person in the place who hadn't lost his head. Maudie was still crying at intervals, and advertising to the newcomers that wealth she had hitherto kept so dark, and between whiles she stared fixedly at b.u.t.ts, as conviction of his guilt deepened to a rage to see him suffer for his crime.

She would rather have her nuggets back, but, failing that--let b.u.t.ts pay! He owed her six thousand dollars. Let him pay!

The miners were hustling him to the door--to the Court House or to the cotton-wood--a toss-up which.

”Look here!” cried out the Colonel; ”McGinty and Johnson haven't got back!”

n.o.body listened. Justice had been sufficiently served in sending them.