Adventure, November 1915 — page 125: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Posts Masita and her father had moved away from the hall as Helbaud came out, and now he followed them swiftly into the glare of the fire. “Nice little puppies, aren’t they?’ he greeted. ‘And their bite is worse than their bark. If you area wise man, Chateaubriand Dubawni, you will give an agreeable answer to the question I put to you not so long ago. I gave you till dark to make up your mind. Well, it is dark and you shall answer. Chateaubriand Dubawni, I think you will consider!” Helbaud squinted triumphantly into the grim, brown, fire-limned face of the free- trader and into Masita’s contemptuous eyes. “T’ll see you in perdition first!” roared the free-trader, shaking his fist venomously in the squinting face. “Is that plain? You think you and your drunken dogs can cow me, but I don’t happen to be of timid fiber. You talked of bluff in the mess-room there, but you’re the one who’s bluffing. You’ve staged this whole cursed revel to scare me, but I’m not scared. You understand?” “You won’t come into the Arctic Fur Company?” “Not in a million years. And don’t lay a finger on me or my daughter. I'll kill you with my bare hands if you do!” “And, par Dieu, you'll come through half a thousand of my men to do it, will you?” demanded Helbaud coolly. “Curse you! But wait! I forget my diplomacy. Your bruskness makes me forget it. Still I gain nothing by losing my temper. I have an alternative proposition, There’s diplo- macy again, you will note! I expected stub- born opposition, and I am prepared.” Dubawni glared at him suspiciously while he extracted a paper from his pocket, a long, slim paper in the form of a document. With ostentation he unfolded it and held it in his hand. “Perhaps you misunderstand our inten- tions,” he ventured. “I remember now that you said something about your status. But be assured that you will not lower your dignity in merging with the Arctic Fur. In selling to us, by this proposition, you will in no degree lose your personality or influence. In fact, I will betray a secret of our com- pany and tell you that we are at the present moment short of good organizers and post- keepers, men who have a grip on the trade and know how to maintain it. So here is of Pillage another proposition wherein we do not meri- tion buy and sell. Read it over.” Dubawni took the paper roughly and stared at it in the light of the huge fire which threw out a radiance that turned the night into day. And ‘while he read Masita knew by the way the muscles stood out over his jaws that he was not pleased. Curiously she stood up on the toes of her moccasins and peered over his shoulder. In fine, bold handwriting, handwriting as polished and as insolent as Helbaud him- self, she read: For the consideration of one hundred shares and the salary of an officer in the Arctic Fur Company I hereby transfer my post, Dubawni Post, to the ‘Arctic Fur Company, together with its supplies, appliances and the trade and good-will of the district wherever my operations have been carried on, for the period of five years, And I hereby pledge myself to use the best of my ability to foster and promote trade, as if in my own interests. Witnessed ... Signed ..,.. “Brief and to the point!” commented Dubawni in a non-committal manner, hand- ing the paper back to Helbaud. ‘‘And I'll tell you what to do with it. Take it to per- dition with you to light your way!” “You refuse?” snarled Helbaud, losing the grip on his temper and his diplomacy. “No, I don’t refuse. I have had no fur- ther proposition put tome. It is as if I had never seen that paper. Because it is too abominably mean to be remembered.” “Father—father!” cried Masita, her eyes dancing in the flamelight. “It is the way for a man to speak!” She clasped his arm with both hands and with a caressing little gesture laid her head against his muscled shoulder. 123 “Tt is the way to talk. Though you died for it—yes, and though I died for it—I would not have had you answer any other way. Now, dog of a Helbaud, what do you say to that?” “Say?” gasped Helbaud, his face con- torted in impotent rage. “Say?” He seemed to have lost all control of himself under the cool, knifing scorn of Dubawni. “T will say nothing.” “Then, dog of a Helbaud, what will you do?” “Do? You little cat! I will show you what I willdo. Ho, Betarde, Henri, Antoine, Felix—all! Seize this man!” EOPMICOOO KS (E)