S

Lablache was not a man of variable moods. He was too strong; his purpose
in life was too strong for any vacillation of temper. His one aim--his
whole soul--was wrapt in a craving for money-making and the inevitable
power which the accumulation of great wealth must give him. In all his
dealings he was perfectly--at least outwardly--calm, and he never
allowed access to anger to thwart his ends. An inexorable purpose
governed his actions to an extent which, while his feelings might
undergo paroxysms of acute changes, never permitted him to make a false
move or to show his hand prematurely. But this latest reverse had upset
him more than he had ever been upset in his life, and all the great
latent force of his character had suddenly, as it were, been
precipitated into a torrent of ungovernable fury. He had been wounded
deeply in the most vulnerable spot in his composition. Thirty-five
thousands of his precious dollars ruthlessly torn from his capacious and
retentive money-bags. Truly it was a cruel blow, and one well calculated
to disturb the even tenor of his complacency.

Thought was very busy within that massive head as he lumped heavily
along from John Allandale's house in the direction of his own store.
Some slight satisfaction was his at the reflection of the prompt
assistance he had obtained from the police. It was the satisfaction of a
man who lived by the assistance of the law, of a man who, in his own
inordinate arrogance, considered that the law was made for such as he,
to the detriment of those who attempt to thwart the rich man's purpose.
He knew Horrocks to be capable, and although he did not place too much
reliance on that astute prairie-man's judgment--he always believed in
his own judgment first--still, he knew that he could not have obtained
better assistance, and was therefore as content as circumstances would
permit. That he was sanguine of recovering his property was doubtful.
Lablache never permitted himself the luxury of optimism. He set himself
a task and worked steadily on to the required end. So he had decided
now. He did not permit himself to dwell on the desired result, or to
anticipate. He would simply leave no stone unturned to bring about the
recovery of his stolen property.

He moved ponderously along over the smooth dusty road, and at last
reached the market-place. The settlement was drowsily quiet. Life of a
sort was apparent but it was chiefly "animal." The usual number of dogs
wer