Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

766 trampled snow and black edge of the fire without a word. Then he withdrew his hand, buttoned the fronts of his numerous garments and grunted. ‘“Lost somethin’?” queried Archie. “Four ’undred an’ twenty dollar,” said the Maliseet. The fire was built up, the boy and Gabe were put to bed, water was boiled, tea made, bacon and flapjacks were fried. All made merry. Jacob ate flapjacks in spite of his eut lip, and Gabe swallowed pints of tea in spite of the soreness of his throat. All were in high spirits. ‘The boy was rescued and the kidnaper was beaten. They felt that there was nothing more to fear from Pete Woodhall. He had shot his bolt, and they knew that he would get out of the country at top speed with the wallet containing four hundred and twenty dollars. No one doubted Gabe’s statement concern- ing the contents of the wallet. Gabe and the child fell asleep at last, full fed and full hearted. They felt sore in spots—but what of that? They were victors. They had fought good fights. The child glowed with thoughts of the blows he had struck in defence of his friend at the man whom he knew to be a cheat and a coward and a beast, and whom he firmly believed to be a monstrous liar. Gabe glowed with the knowledge that an old score was settled and that a good and perilous piece of work had, with a little luck and much heroic effort, been brought to a successful conclusion—and that Silas Kester would more than make good to him his loss in dollars. They slept soundly, despite their bruises. Archie and foe widened the trench, chopped and spread boughs, dragged fuel to within easy reach and rolled up in their blankets. All siept late. Sunshine was flooding level through the eastward trees when Joe rolled out and kicked the fire into a blaze and put-on the kettle. The bey and Gabe Loon awoke to find themselves sore and stiff here and there— but what matter? Time and the world were theirs now. All they had to do was to get home to Lob’s Point. Archie McKim came out of his blankets as spry as a colt. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. They breakfasted extensively, without haste. After that, Gabe and Jacob retold their heroic stories. Archie produced a bottle of liniment and needles and thread. After treating the Strains of the rescued with the liniment and bathing cuts and bruises with hot water, he cut a coat out of a blanket for Jacob and set to work stitching it. The others reclined near at hand, watching him idly. Then Tim Leblanc walked into camp and threw down his pack. Leblanc was sizable—tall enough, and more than broad enough at the shoulders. He was thirty-five years of age, which is old enough to be seasoned and toughened and yet young enough to be limber. He was old enough to be experienced in the rougher ways on the upper river, of lumber camps and ‘“‘ drives” and all other phases of the life of a white-water boy. He was a man of his hands and his feet, adroit and knowing and agile. In his own estimation and that of many of his friends, he was cock of the river. One or two of the several strains of blood in him were fighting strains; and he had a fierce, un- reasoning temper. Tim Leblanc threw down his pack and his rifle and kicked off his snowshoes. ‘“Whar’s McKim?” he asked in a threatening voice. ‘“ My name’s McKim,” said Archie, lay- ing aside his sewing. ‘ What’s yer own name, if ye don’t object to me askin’?” “ Ye look old enough to be honest,” re- turned Leblanc, ignoring the question. “ I never see a holier lookin’ bunch o’ whiskers. But vere a damn tef, for all yer ancient an’ holy looks!” ‘“} cal’late ye must be Timothy Leblanc, jedgin’ from what Charlie Dix told me,” said Archie in a mild voice. * Ye’re dead right I be Timothy Leblanc! An’ I’m looking for the highbellied, t’ievin’ downriver farmers what stole me canoe an’ half me outfit widout so much as ‘by yer leave’ like they had a right to anyt’ing they wanted, an’ to hell wid the poor man!” ““We had to take the canoe an’ stuff, Mister Leblanc,” said Archie. “ We was in a hurry. Maybe ye didn’t find the money.I left behind in payment for what (COMME LOOKS 5eO)