ook you here,
Gautier, you owe that man a grudge. You would kill him but you don't
dare. I may pay off that grudge for you. Pay it by a means that is
better than killing."

"Torture," grinned the half-breed.

Bill nodded.

"Now see and be off. And don't make any mistake, or we may all swing for
it. Tell Baptiste he must go over the keg at once and bring Golden Eagle
to my shack at about half-past ten. Tell him to be punctual. Now scoot.
No mistakes, or--" and Bill made a significant gesture.

The man understood and hurried away. "Lord" Bill was satisfied that his
orders would be carried out to the letter. The service he demanded of
this man was congenial service, in so far that it promised loot in
plenty and easily acquired. Moreover, the criminal side of the
half-breed's nature was tickled. A liberal reward for honesty would be
less likely to secure good service from such as Gautier than a chance of
gain for shady work. It was the half-breed nature.

After the departure of the half-breed, Bill remained where he was for
some time. He sat with his hands clasped round his knees, gazing
thoughtfully out towards the camp. He was reviewing his forces and
mentally struggling to penetrate the pall which obscured the future. He
felt himself to be playing a winning game; at least, that his vengeance
and chastisement of Lablache had been made ridiculously easy for him.
But now he had come to that point when he wondered what must be the
outcome of it all as regarded himself and the girl he loved. Would his
persecution drive Lablache from Foss River to the security of Calford,
Where he would be able to follow him and still further prosecute his
inexorable vengeance? Or would he still choose to remain? He knew
Lablache to be a strong man, but he also knew, by the money-lender's
sudden determination to force Jacky into marriage with him, that he had
received a scare. He could not decide on the point. But he inclined to
the belief that Lablache must go after to-night. He would not spare him.
He had yet a trump card to play. He would be present at the game of
cards, and--well, time would show.

He threw away his mangled cigarette end and rose from the ground. One
glance of his keen eyes told him that no one was in sight. He strolled
out upon the prairie and made his way back to the settlement. He need
not have troubled himself about the future. The future would work itself
out, and no effort of his would be capable of directing