he went on, with an effort at playfulness. “You two boys are pretty deep–pretty deep.” He repeated himself reflectively. “An’ you seem so easy and free, too. I do allow I’d never ’a’ thought it. Ha, ha!”
He turned a smiling face upon his two friends and looked quizzically from one to the other. His look was open, but behind it shone something else. There was a hungriness in his sharp, black eyes which would have been observed by any one other than these two backwoodsmen.
“You allus was a bit fancy in your way o’ speakin’, Victor,” observed Nick, responding to the man’s grin. “Hit the main trail, man. We ain’t good at guessin’.”
Ralph had looked steadily at the trader while he was speaking; now he turned slowly and poured out three pannikins of coffee. During the operation he turned his visitor’s words over in his mind and something of their meaning came to him. He passed a tin to each of the others and sipped meditatively from his own, while his eyes became fixed upon the face of the half-breed.
“Ther’ was some fine pelts in that last parcel o’ furs you brought along,” continued Victor. “Three black foxes. But your skins is always the best I get.”
Ralph nodded over his coffee, whilst he added his other hand to the support of the tin. Nick watched his brother a little anxiously. He, too, felt uneasy.
“It’s cur’us that you git more o’ them black pelts around here than anybody else higher up north. You’re a sight better hunters than any durned neche on the Peace River. An’ them hides is worth more’n five times their weight in gold. You’re makin’ a pile o’ bills. Say, you keep them black pelts snug away wi’ other stuff o’ value.”
Gagnon paused and took a deep draught at his coffee.
“Say,” he went on, with a knowing smile. “I guess them black foxes lived in a gold mine–”
He broke off and watched the effect of his words. The others kept silence, only their eyes betrayed them. The smoke curled slowly up from their pipes and hung in a cloud about the creaking roof. The fire burned fiercely in the stove, and with every rush of wind outside there came a corresponding roar of flame up the stovepipe.
“Maybe you take my meanin’,” said the Breed, assured that his words had struck home. “Them black furs was chock full o’ grit–an’ that grit was gold-dust. Guess that dust didn’t grow in them furs; an’ I ’lows foxes don’t fancy a bed o’ such stuff. Say, boys, you’ve struck gold in this layout o’ yours. That’s what’s brought me out in this all-fired storm.”
The two brothers exchanged rapid glances and then Ralph spoke for them both.
“You’re smart, Victor. That’s so. We’ve been workin’ a patch o’ pay-dirt for nigh on to twelve month. But it’s worked out; clear out to the bedrock. It wa’n’t jest a great find, though I ’lows, while it lasted, we took a tidy wage out o’ it–”
“An’ what might you call a ‘tidy wage’?” asked the Breed, in a tone of disappointment. He knew these men so well that he did not doubt their statement; but he was loth to relinquish his dream. He had come there to make an arrangement with them. If they had a gold working he considered that, provided he could be of use to them, there would be ample room for him in it. This had been the object of his hazardous journey. And now he was told that it had worked out. He loved gold, and the news came as a great blow to him.
He watched Ralph keenly while he awaited his reply, sitting up in his eagerness.
“Seventy-fi’ dollars a day,” Ralph spoke without enthusiasm.
Victor’s eyes sparkled.
“Each?” he asked.
“No, on shares.”
There was another long silence while the voice of the storm was loud without. Victor Gagnon was thinking hard, but his face was calm, his expression almost indifferent. More coffee was drunk, and the smoke continued to rise.
“I ’lows you should know if it’s worked out, sure.”
The sharp eyes seemed to go through Ralph.
“Dead sure. We ain’t drawn a cent’s worth o’ colour out o’ it fer nine months solid.”
“’Tain’t worth prospectin’ fer the reef?”
“Can’t say. I ain’t much when it comes to prospectin’ gold. I knows the colour when I sees it.”
Nick joined in the conversation at this point.
“Guess you’d a notion you fancied bein’ in it,” he said, smiling over at the Breed.
Victor laughed a little harshly.
“That’s jest what.”
The two brothers nodded. This they had understood.
“I’d have found all the plant fer big work,” went on the trader eagerly. “I’d have found the cash to do everything. I’d have found the labour. An’ us three ’ud have made a great syndicate. We’d ’a’ run it dead secret. Wi’ me in it we could ’a’ sent our gold down to the bank by the dogs, an’, bein’ as my shack’s so far from here, no one ’ud ever ’a’ found whar the yeller come from. It ’ud ’a’ been a real fine game–a jo-dandy game. An’ it’s worked clear out?” he asked again, as though to make certain that he had heard aright.
“Bottomed right down to the bedrock. Maybe ye’d like to see fer yourself?”
“Guess I ken take your word, boys; ye ain’t the sort to lie to a pal. I’m real sorry.” He paused and shifted his position. Then he went on with a slightly cunning look. “I ’lows you’re like to take a run down to Edmonton one o’ these days. A feller mostly likes to make things hum when he’s got a good wad.” Gagnon’s tone was purely conversational. But his object must have been plain to any one else. He was bitterly resentful at the working out of the placer mine, and his anger always sent his thoughts into crooked channels. His nature was a curious one; he was honest enough, although avaricious, while his own ends were served. It was different when he was balked.
“We don’t notion a city any,” said Nick, simply.
“Things is confusin’ to judge by the yarns folks tell,” added Ralph, with a shake of his shaggy head.
“Them fellers as comes up to your shack, Victor, mostly talks o’ drink, an’ shootin’, an’–an’ women,” Nick went on. “Guess the hills’ll do us. Maybe when we’ve done wi’ graft an’ feel that it ’ud be good to laze, likely we’ll go down an’ buy a homestead on the prairie. Maybe, I sez.”
Nick spoke dubiously, like a man who does not convince himself.
“Hah, that’s ’cause you’ve never been to a city,” said the Breed sharply.
“Jest so,” observed Ralph quietly, between the puffs at his pipe.
Gagnon laughed silently. His eyes were very bright and he looked from one brother to the other with appreciation. An idea had occurred to him
