Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 13, 1923 — page 163: what you’re looking at

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

— THE FREE TRADER. trader. Then she darted ahead, and they were forced to run to keep up with her. “Wait, Helen,’ Macleod whispered. “We don’t know what sort of thing we may run into.” But she did not stop until she had reached the front door of Bicknell’s house and had knocked loudly upon it. There was no answer, and Macleod pushed the door open, “Careful,” Macleod cautioned as Helen went in with the lantern. They looked around the empty, silent room, and then Helen saw the missionary’s bed through a door. The blankets were thrown back. “See!” she cried. “He’s gone, too. But he had been asleep.” She went on through to the kitchen, Mac- leod with her. They found the outer door open and pressed on outside, where they paused indecisively, and the half-breeds gathered about them. : No one spoke, and in that moment of bewilderment and indecision all heard a groan in the direction of the church. Mac- leod ran to the vestry door, Helen at his heels, The door resisted, and together they pushed it open and crowded in. As Alan had foreseen, the people of the post could not fail to read the truth when they found him and Bicknell. Both men lay on the floor, Bicknell on his side with his legs drawn up, the front of his shirt soaked with blood, Alan on his back, one foot fast-in the bear trap and the knife han- dle sticking up from beneath his shenlder. Behind them, piled along the rear wall, was a large quantity of fur. Helen did not stop to read the meaning of the situation. One fact alone concerned her. Alan was wounded, perhaps dead. She threw herself down beside him and felt of his face and his hands. “ Come, quick!” she cried. “ He’s hurt! He’s dying!” Macleod had stooped over Bicknell and felt of his pulse. “ This one’s alive,” he said. He knelt beside Alan and placed his ear on his chest. “Gray’s alive, too,’ he reported, “ but both are nearly frozen. Get back and bring 10 A two toboggans and blankets, you fellows, and a couple of clamps for this trap.” The half-breeds ran out and Helen crept closer to Alan. “Wil he die?” she whispered. Macleod carefully withdrew the knife and the blood quickly flowed. “T{ don’t think so,” he said. ‘“‘ It’s above the lung, and that cut on the face is just a scratch. But Bicknell’s done for.” Grimwood Mears had given little heed to the two wounded men. He had gone straight across the room to the fur» piled against the wall. | ‘You see that, don’t you, Macleod?” he demanded when he had finished a hurried examination. stole. did it.” o “Don’t be a fool!’ Macleod retorted. “Look at Gray’s foot. Bicknell’s the man we wanted. And Henry Allardyce, whom vou accused of being a coward, gave his life for the company in an effort to protect the fur.” A hideous noise, half laugh and half gur- gle, stopped him, and he turned to see Bick- nell’s eyes open. “Henry a hero, eh?” the missionary sneered. Even though his voice was weak there was a Startling quality in it. It was hard and scornful, lacked the smooth, unctu- ous tones to which they had been accus- tomed. ; ‘““Henry a hero!” he. repeated. “ He wasn’t even a man, the gutless dog. I’m done for, but I’d say it anyhow. I couldn’t be made to swing for croaking him.” “You mean you killed him?” Mears de- manded. “ Aw, hold your clapper and use your nut. I’m not telling you anything, not any of you. But I would tell Gray. Id like to talk to him. He’s got sense enough to know what Ud be saying. JI hope I didn’t croak him. He’s the only one of you I couldn’t fool, and I’d like to have him tell me how he got wise.” He stopped to cough and blood gushed from his mouth. “Tell us,” Macleod insisted. ‘ You can’t live, man, shot as you are. Clear this “There’s the fur you said J I told you Gray was the man who ‘ 625 CORMEDOOLKS; (E(O) pital Lp ‘) Pat ‘ PN, ut diy ire Pree ‘ iJ Fi V2 oy TE Peter