Conjurors House | Page 8

nothing with me; but out at the front I am very rich. I
will give you a hundred dollars, if you will help me to get away."
"I can' do eet," smiled Picard.
"Why not?"
"Ole man he fin' dat out. He is wan devil, dat ole man. I lak firs'-rate
help you; I lak' dat hundred dollar. On Ojibway countree dey make
hees nam' Wagosh--dat mean fox. He know everyt'ing."
"I'll make it two hundred--three hundred--five hundred."
"W'at you wan' me do?" hesitated Achille Picard at the last figure.
"Get me a rifle and some cartridges."
The half-breed rolled a cigarette, lighted it, and inhaled a deep breath.
"I can' do eet," he declared. "I can' do eet for t'ousand dollar--ten
t'ousand. I don't t'ink you fin' anywan on dis settlement w'at can dare do
eet. He is wan devil. He's count all de carabine on dis pos', an' w'en he
is mees wan, he fin' out purty queek who is tak' heem."
"Steal one from someone else," suggested Trent.
"He fin' out jess sam'," objected the half-breed, obstinately. "You don'
know heem. He mak' you geev yourself away, when he lak' do dat."
The smile had left the man's face. This was evidently too serious a
matter to be taken lightly.

"Well, come with me, then," urged Ned Trent, with some impatience.
"A thousand dollars I'll give you. With that you can be rich somewhere
else."
But the man was becoming more and more uneasy, glancing furtively
from left to right and back again, in an evident panic lest the
conversation be overheard, although the nearest dwelling-house was a
score of yards distant.
"Hush," he whispered. "You mustn't talk lak' dat. Dose ole man fin' you
out. You can' hide away from heem. Ole tam long ago, Pierre Cadotte
is stole feefteen skin of de otter--de sea-otter--and he is sol' dem on
Winnipeg. He is get 'bout t'ousand beaver--five hunder' dollar. Den he
is mak' dose longue voyage wes'--ver' far wes'--on dit Peace Reever. He
is mak' heem dose cabane, w'ere he is leev long tam wid wan man of
Mackenzie. He is call it hees nam' Dick Henderson. I is meet Dick
Henderson on Winnipeg las' year, w'en I mak' paddle on dem Factor
Brigade, an' dose High Commissionaire. He is tol' me wan night pret'
late he wake up all de queeck he can w'en he is hear wan noise in dose
cabane, an' he is see wan Injun, lak' phantome 'gainst de moon to de
door. Dick Henderson he is 'sleep, he don' know w'at he mus' do. Does
Injun is step ver' sof' an' go on bunk of Pierre Cadotte. Pierre Cadotte is
mak' de beeg cry. Dick Henderson say he no see dose Injun no more,
an' he fin' de door shut. Bâ Pierre Cadotte, she's go dead. He is mak'
wan beeg hole in hees ches'."
"Some enemy, some robber frightened away because the Henderson
man woke up, probably," suggested Ned Trent.
The half-breed laid his hand impressively on the other's arm and leaned
forward until his bright black eyes were within a foot of the other's
face.
"W'en dose Injun is stan' heem in de moonlight, Dick Henderson is see
hees face. Dick Henderson is know all dose Injun. He is tole me dat
Injun is not Peace Reever Injun. Dick Henderson is say dose Injun is
Ojibway Injun--Ojibway Injun two t'ousand mile wes'--on Peace
Reever! Dat's curi's!"

"I was tell you nodder story--" went on Achille, after a moment.
"Never mind," interrupted the Trader. "I believe you."
"Maybee," said Achille cheerfully, "you stan' some show--not
moche--eef he sen' you out pret' queeck. Does small perdrix is yonge,
an' dose duck. Maybee you is catch dem, maybee you is keel dem wit'
bow an' arrow. Dat's not beeg chance. You mus' geev dose coureurs de
bois de sleep w'en you arrive. Voilà, I geev you my knife!"
He glanced rapidly to right and left, then slipped a small object into the
stranger's hand.
"Bâ, I t'ink does ole man is know dat. I t'ink he kip you here till tam
w'en dose perdrix and duck is all grow up beeg' nuff so he can fly."
"I'm not watched," said the young man in eager tones; "I'll slip away
to-night."
"Dat no good," objected Picard. "W'at you do? S'pose you do dat, dose
coureurs keel you toute suite. Dey is have good excuse, an' you is have
nothing to mak' de fight. You sleep away, and dose ole man is sen' out
plaintee Injun. Dey is fine you sure. Bâ, eef he sen' you out, den he sen'
onlee two Injun. Maybee you fight dem; I don' know. Non, mon ami,
eef you is wan' get away w'en dose ole man he don' know