The Land of Frozen Suns: A Novel by Bertrand W. Sinclair
CHAPTER IX--MR. MONTELL
"Oho, it's you George," Montell purred--that sounds exaggerated, but Icannot otherwise describe his manner of speaking. He made an odd figuresitting up in bed, with his fat, purple face surmounting a flannelshirt, and a red, knitted cap on his head.
"So you made it, eh? Who's this with you, George?"
"None of your damned business!" Barreau snapped. He stood back a littlefrom the bed, looking down at Montell. By the glint in his eyes he wasangry. "You needn't concern yourself about any man who travels with me."
"Tut, tut, George," the other pacified, "that's all right; that's allright. You're mighty touchy to-night. I did the best I could for you,I'm sure."
"The best you could! You did that--though not in the way you would haveme believe." Barreau's voice stung like a whip-lash. "You double-facedMammon-worshipper, if it would mend matters I would gladly jerk you outof your bunk and stamp your swinish features into the earth. Do youthink you can pull the wool over my eyes? For two pins I'd break withyou right now."
Montell did not at once reply. He sat a few seconds, softly rubbing thepalm of one pudgy hand over the back of its fellow.
"Now, what's the use of that sort of talk, George?" he finally said,quite unperturbed. "We can't afford to quarrel. We got too----"
"I can," Barreau interrupted.
"No, no, George, you're mistaken there. We got to stick together," hedeclared. "Hang it! you had bad luck. But you shouldn't blame me forthem misfortunes."
"I don't--altogether," Barreau cut in again. "But you took advantage ofmy mischance, to help along a little scheme that you've been nursingsome time. I had a glimpse of your hand in MacLeod. You have done themischief. Why should I trouble myself further in your affairs, unless itbe to call you to account for the dirty trick you have played?"
"Oho, I see now," Montell nodded understandingly. "I didn't catch whatyou were driving at. But you're wrong, dead wrong, George. Why, I triedevery way to send Jessie back from Benton. Yes, sir, tried every way.You've no idea how wilful that girl is." He spread his fat handsdeprecatingly. "She'd come to MacLeod, spite of hell 'n' high water. _I_couldn't stop her. And with every Tom, Dick 'n' Harry talkin' about you,and them dodgers stuck up every place, and you really in theguardhouse--why, you see how it was. No way to keep it dark. But it'snot as bad as you think. Of course she's kinda excited--but, pshaw! Whenyou see her again she won't think of it. You're dead wrong, George, whenyou blame me. Yes, sir. Wouldn't I have kept it quiet if I could? Youknow it, George. I got somethin' at stake, too."
"You have that," Barreau returned grimly, "and you had better keep thatfact in mind. But don't ask me to believe such rot as your not beingable to prevent her from making such a radical change of plan. However,the milk is spilt; the crying part will come later. I'll keep to my partof the bargain. Does everything stand as originally laid out?"
Montell nodded. "There's no call to change," he said, and again thepurring, satisfied note crept into his voice.
"I want another good horse, a saddle, a pack layout, and grub for amonth," Barreau enumerated. "Rout Steve up--you know where hesleeps--and have him get those things. We need guns, too. Where is mybox?"
"It's on the tail end of the first wagon outside. Steve's sleepin' justbeyond. Couldn't you just as well wake him, George?"
"No, I've other things to do," Barreau refused bluntly. "Bestir your fatcarcass, and set him to work. The night air won't hurt you. We have notime to waste. For all I know a troop of Police may be on us before wecan get started again."
Montell grunted some unintelligible protest, but nevertheless, heavedhis flesh-burdened body up from the cot. He gathered about him amuch-worn dressing gown, and, thrusting his feet into a pair ofslippers, left the tent.
"Now, let us see about clothes," Barreau said to me, and I followed himto the wagon-end.
He climbed up on the hind wheel. After a second or two of fumbling heupended a flat steamer trunk. I held it while he leaped to the ground,and between us we carried it into the tent.
"The Police have my key--much good may it do them," he remarked, andpried open the lid with a hatchet that lay near by. He threw a fewarticles carelessly aside.
"Peel off those roustabout garments," he said to me. "Here is somethingbetter. Lucky we're about of a size."
He gave me a blue flannel shirt to begin with, and when I had discardedthe soiled rags I wore and put on the clean one, he held out to me acoat and trousers of some dark cloth, a pair of riding boots similar tothose on his own feet, and clean socks. Other clothing he hauled fromthe trunk and laid in a pile by itself. Lastly he brought forth a newfelt hat.
"Does this fit you?" He stood up and set it on my head. "Fine. No, I'llget a hat from Steve before we start," he silenced my protest. We hadboth ridden bareheaded.
Montell returned while I was getting into the welcome change of apparel.
"Steve's gettin' you what you need, George," he informed. "There's a newtarpaulin by the bed you can use for your pack. Steve'll get youblankets. Go softly. I'm none too sure of all these bull-whackers Igot."
Barreau went on spreading his clothes in a flat heap as if he had notheard. Presently he closed the trunk. Getting to his feet he glancedabout.
"Oh, yes," he said curtly, as if he had but recollected something. "Iwant some of that port you've been guzzling. Dig it up."
"Certainly, George, certainly," Montell's face broadened in aningratiating smile, though Barreau's tone was as contemptuouslyinsulting as it could well be. He reached under the box upon which thecandle stood and brought out a bottle. Barreau took it, held it up tothe light, then laid it by his clothing without a word; Montell watchinghim with a speculative air, meanwhile.
"That's fine stuff, George," he said tentatively. "Fine stuff. I ain'tgot but a little."
"Damn you, don't talk to me!" Barreau whirled on him. "I'm sick of thewhole business, and I want none of your smooth palaver, nor whiningabout what I do."
The older man's florid face took on a deeper tint. One of his fat handssuddenly drew into a fist. Barreau had penetrated his hide, in some waythat I could not quite understand. And I imagine there would have beensome sort of explosion on the spot, but for the timely diversion of aman's head parting the door-flaps.
"Them hosses is ready," he briefly announced. And Barreau turned hisback on Mr. Montell forthwith. I did likewise.
For all I did I might as well have stayed in the tent. Barreau and Stevewent silently about saddling one horse and lashing a pack-tree onanother. In the dull light from the tent I could barely make shift tosee, but they seemed to know every strap and tying-place, and the thingwas quickly done. Last of all, they folded Barreau's clothing and two orthree pairs of heavy blankets in the tarpaulin, and bound the roll ontop of the food-supply. Then Barreau stepped once more within the tent.
What he said to Montell did not reach my ears. At any rate, it wasbrief. Watching his shadow on the canvas wall I saw him turn to comeout, saw him stop and bend over something near the flaps. Hestraightened up with a sharp exclamation, and this time I hearddistinctly what he said.
"By the Lord, you have been fool enough to let her come farther even!Oh, you miserable----" His words ran into a blur of sound.
Montell raised in his cot again. I could see the bulk of him outlinedagainst the farther side.
"Now, see here, George," he burst out irritably. "This is goin' too far.Between you and Jessie I've had a heap of trouble this trip. And mypatience has got limits. Yes, sir. It's got limits! I'm doin' the best Ican, and you got to do the same. You go to backin' old man Montell intoa corner, and the fur'll fly. You act like you was a schoolboy, and I'dtook your cap away."
I don't think that Barreau made any reply to this. If he did the wordswere softly spoken, and he was not the man to speak softly, consideringthe mood he was in just then. He was out of the tent almost beforeMontell had finished.
"Steve," he said, in a matter-of-fact way as he laid hold of his stirrup(I was already
Without comment Steve took the hat from his head and handed it up tohim. "So-long," he grunted laconically.
"So-long, Steve," said Barreau.
The candle in Montell's tent blinked out with the words. Barreau caughtup the lead-rope of our pack-pony, and then, as silently as we had come,we rode away.