ans business, he'll pay what _we_ say.
If he ain't sharp set as to a big figger, we've got Joyce; and by
thunder! who's got a better right? Then we'll make tracks, after the
spring freshet, to another place I know of where laws is stationary and
folks ain't over keen, and where a handsome woman like Joyce will help.
I've got money enough left from the wreck to tide us over, my
son--unless Gaston planks down."

All this completed Billy's demoralization. His teeth chattered louder,
and for the life of him he could not control an audible sound, half sob,
half sigh. But Jude was evidently as much overpowered as Billy, for the
boy suddenly heard him emit an oath, and then a volley of questions
designed to clear the air after Jared's storm of eloquence.

"She'll come, all right." Jared had his answers ready. "It's an
all-fired queer state of things down there to St. Ange. You and me ain't
never struck Gaston's kind before. Joyce'll go when he calls, and don't
you forget it--all I've got to do is to make the lumberman's letter real
convincing.

"Sure! I'm the lumberman, all right. Camp up north? Nothing. I'll land
her here where her rightful and loving husband will be waiting for her
till further developments. How did I find out the lay of the land? Gosh!
that was a tight squeeze. I found out he was over to Hillcrest, Gaston
you know; and I run up, after dark to his shack, planning to get a haul
from Joyce. I got into the back kitchen while she was outside, and
before I could get away--in walks Gaston. What I saw and heard that
evening, Jude, ain't necessary here, but it blazed our trail, boy, and I
cut later--taking more than I planned for." Birkdale breathed hard. "You
leave Gaston to me, curse 'im!

"Make trouble for us? How in thunder is a man to make trouble for a
husband who is taking his own wife to his dishonoured bosom? Lord! Jude,
you've got about as much backbone as an angle worm.

"What?" Some muttered words followed that Billy could not catch. Then--

"Trust me! Does any one know to this day, you blamed fool, who shot that
government detective that was snooping into that clearing you and me
made--five years back? Gaston'll pay or you'll take one of them
never-failing shots of yours, and----"

It had been a hard day for Billy, and he was only fourteen.

The low, smoke-filled loft seemed to draw close about him, and it
smothered the life out of him. He thought he screamed, but instead, an
unseen power laid