again today."
"There ain't no doubt of that," commented Branch.
"It's the straight dope. Patterson keeps his dates," said Bud Mansie.
The booming bass of Jim Boone broke in: "Shut up, the whole gang of
you. We've had luck for the six years Pierre has been with us. Who
calls him a Jonah?"
And Black Gandil answered: "I do. I've sailed the seas. I know bad
luck when I see it."
"You've been seeing it for six years."
"The worst storms come on a voyage that starts with fair weather.
Patterson? He's gone; he ain't just delayed; he's gone."
It was not the first of these gloomy prophecies which Gandil had made,
but each time a heavy gloom broke over Red Pierre. For when he summed
up the good fortune which the cross of Father Victor had brought him,
he found that he had gained a father, and lost him at their first
meeting; and he had won money on that night of the gambling, but it
had cost the life of another man almost at once. The horse which
carried him away from the vengeance in Morgantown had died on the way
and he had been saved from the landslide, but the girl had perished.
He had driven McGurk from the ranges, and where would the penalty fall
on those who were near and dear to him? In a superstitious horror he
had asked himself the question a thousand times, and finally he could
hardly bear to look into the ominous, brooding eyes of Black Gandil.
It was as if the man had a certain and evil knowledge of the future.
Chapter 17
*
The knowledge of the torment he was inflicting made the eye of Black
Gandil bright with triumph.
He continued, and now every man in the room was sitting up, alert,
with gloomy eyes fixed upon Pierre: "Patterson is the first, but he
ain't the last. He's just the start. Who's next?" He looked
slowly around.
"Is it you, Bud, or you, Phil, or you, Jim, or maybe me?"
And Pierre said: "What makes you think you know that trouble's coming,
Morgan?"
"Because my blood runs cold in me when I look at you."
Red Pierre grew rigid and straightened in a way they knew.
"Damn you, Gandil, I've borne with you and your croaking too long,
d'ye hear? Too long, and I'll hear no more of it, understand?"
"Why not? You'll hear from me every time I sight you in the offing.
You c'n lay to that!"
The others were tense, ready to spring for cover, but Boone reared up
his great figure.
"Don't answer him, Pierre. You, Gandil, shut your face or I'll break
ye in two."
The fierce eyes of Pierre le Rouge never wavered from his victim, but
he answered: "Keep out of this. This is
my
party. I'll tell you why
you'll stop gibbering, Gandil."
He made a pace forward and every man shrank a little away from him.
"Because the cold in your blood is part hate and more fear, Black
Gandil."
The eyes of Gandil glared back for an instant. With all his soul he
yearned for the courage to pull his gun, but his arm was numb; he
could not move it, and his eyes wavered and fell.
The shaggy gray head of Jim Boone fell likewise, and he was murmuring
to his savage old heart: "The good days are over. They'll never rest
till one of 'em is dead, and then the rest will take sides and we'll
have gun-plays at night. Seven years, and then to break up!"
Dick Wilbur, as usual, was the pacifier. He strode across the room,
and the sharp sound of his heels on the creaking floor broke the
tension. He said softly to Pierre: "You've raised hell enough. Now
let's go and get Jack down here to undo what you've just finished.
Besides, you've got to ask her for that dance, eh?"
The glance of Pierre still lingered on Gandil as he turned and
followed Wilbur up the complaining stairs to the one habitable room in
the second story of the house. It was set aside for the use of
Jacqueline.
At the door Wilbur said: "Shrug your shoulders back; you look as if
you were going to jump at something. And wipe the wolf look off your
face. After all, Jack's a girl, not a gunfighter."
Then he knocked and opened the door.
She lay face down on her bunk, her head turned from
"There ain't no doubt of that," commented Branch.
"It's the straight dope. Patterson keeps his dates," said Bud Mansie.
The booming bass of Jim Boone broke in: "Shut up, the whole gang of
you. We've had luck for the six years Pierre has been with us. Who
calls him a Jonah?"
And Black Gandil answered: "I do. I've sailed the seas. I know bad
luck when I see it."
"You've been seeing it for six years."
"The worst storms come on a voyage that starts with fair weather.
Patterson? He's gone; he ain't just delayed; he's gone."
It was not the first of these gloomy prophecies which Gandil had made,
but each time a heavy gloom broke over Red Pierre. For when he summed
up the good fortune which the cross of Father Victor had brought him,
he found that he had gained a father, and lost him at their first
meeting; and he had won money on that night of the gambling, but it
had cost the life of another man almost at once. The horse which
carried him away from the vengeance in Morgantown had died on the way
and he had been saved from the landslide, but the girl had perished.
He had driven McGurk from the ranges, and where would the penalty fall
on those who were near and dear to him? In a superstitious horror he
had asked himself the question a thousand times, and finally he could
hardly bear to look into the ominous, brooding eyes of Black Gandil.
It was as if the man had a certain and evil knowledge of the future.
Chapter 17
*
The knowledge of the torment he was inflicting made the eye of Black
Gandil bright with triumph.
He continued, and now every man in the room was sitting up, alert,
with gloomy eyes fixed upon Pierre: "Patterson is the first, but he
ain't the last. He's just the start. Who's next?" He looked
slowly around.
"Is it you, Bud, or you, Phil, or you, Jim, or maybe me?"
And Pierre said: "What makes you think you know that trouble's coming,
Morgan?"
"Because my blood runs cold in me when I look at you."
Red Pierre grew rigid and straightened in a way they knew.
"Damn you, Gandil, I've borne with you and your croaking too long,
d'ye hear? Too long, and I'll hear no more of it, understand?"
"Why not? You'll hear from me every time I sight you in the offing.
You c'n lay to that!"
The others were tense, ready to spring for cover, but Boone reared up
his great figure.
"Don't answer him, Pierre. You, Gandil, shut your face or I'll break
ye in two."
The fierce eyes of Pierre le Rouge never wavered from his victim, but
he answered: "Keep out of this. This is
my
party. I'll tell you why
you'll stop gibbering, Gandil."
He made a pace forward and every man shrank a little away from him.
"Because the cold in your blood is part hate and more fear, Black
Gandil."
The eyes of Gandil glared back for an instant. With all his soul he
yearned for the courage to pull his gun, but his arm was numb; he
could not move it, and his eyes wavered and fell.
The shaggy gray head of Jim Boone fell likewise, and he was murmuring
to his savage old heart: "The good days are over. They'll never rest
till one of 'em is dead, and then the rest will take sides and we'll
have gun-plays at night. Seven years, and then to break up!"
Dick Wilbur, as usual, was the pacifier. He strode across the room,
and the sharp sound of his heels on the creaking floor broke the
tension. He said softly to Pierre: "You've raised hell enough. Now
let's go and get Jack down here to undo what you've just finished.
Besides, you've got to ask her for that dance, eh?"
The glance of Pierre still lingered on Gandil as he turned and
followed Wilbur up the complaining stairs to the one habitable room in
the second story of the house. It was set aside for the use of
Jacqueline.
At the door Wilbur said: "Shrug your shoulders back; you look as if
you were going to jump at something. And wipe the wolf look off your
face. After all, Jack's a girl, not a gunfighter."
Then he knocked and opened the door.
She lay face down on her bunk, her head turned from
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