Part 37 (1/2)
Kitty drew swiftly into the intense blackness between two lumber piles.
She heard the sound of voices coming toward her, and a moment later she could distinguish the words. ”d.a.m.n him! He like to busted my jaw! Gawd, what a wallop he's got! But I fixed him, when I smashed that quart over his head!”
”Maybe he'll bleed to death,” ventured another.
”Naw, he ain't cut bad. I seen the gash over his eye. He's b.l.o.o.d.y as h.e.l.l, but he looks worse'n he is. Say, you sure you tied him tight? He's been out d.a.m.n near an hour an' he'll be comin' to, 'fore long--an'
believe me----”
The men pa.s.sed out of hearing and Kitty slipped from cover and sped toward the shack the outline of which she could see beyond the corner of the sawmill.
She made sure that all four of the men were together, so she pushed in without hesitation. ”h.e.l.lo!” she called, softly. ”Ace-In-The-Hole! You here?” No answer, and she moved further into the room and stumbled over the prostrate form of a man. Swiftly she dropped to her knees and a.s.sured herself that his hands and feet were tied. Deftly her fingers explored his pockets until they found his knife, and a moment later the thongs that bound him were severed. Her hand rested for a second upon his forehead, and with a low cry she withdrew it, wet and sticky with blood. Leaping to her feet, she procured a handful of snow which she dashed into his face. Again and again she repeated the performance, and then he moved. He muttered, feebly, and received more snow. Then she bent close to his ear:
”Listen, Ace-In-The-Hole--it's me--Kitty!”
”Kitty,” murmured the man, uncertainly. ”Snowdrift!”
”Yes I lit in a snowdrift all right when I jumped out the window--but how did you know? Come--wake up! Is there a light here?”
”Where am I?”
”In the shack back of the sawmill.”
”Where's Camillo Bill?”
”Camillo Bill--he's up to Stoell's, I guess. But listen, give me a match.”
Clumsily Brent fumbled in his pocket and produced a match. Kitty seized it, and in the flare of its flame saw a candle upon the table. She held the flame to the wick, and in the flickering light Brent sat up, and glanced about him. The air was heavy with the reek of the whiskey from the broken bottle. His head hurt, and he raised his hand and withdrew it red with blood. Then, he leaped unsteadily to his feet: ”d.a.m.n 'em!” he roared, ”It was a plant! What's their game?”
”I know what it is!” cried Kitty, ”Quick--tell me--have you got a girl--here in Dawson?”
”Yes, yes--at Reeves--her name is Snowdrift, and she----”
”Come then--we ain't got any time to lose! It's Cuter Malone and that d.a.m.ned Johnnie Claw----”
”Johnnie Claw!” cried Brent. ”Claw is a thousand miles from here--on the Coppermine!”
”He's right this minute in the Klondike Palace--and your girl will be there too, if you don't shake your legs! They framed this play to get her--and I heard 'em--partly. If I'd known where she was, I'd have gone there first--but I didn't know.”
Already Brent was staggering from the room, and Kitty ran close beside him. The cold air revived the man and he ran steadily when he reached the street. ”Tell me--” panted Kitty, at his side. ”This girl--is--she straight?”
”I'm going to marry her tonight!” cried the man.
”Then hurry--for Christ's sake!” sobbed Kitty, ”Oh, hurry! Hurry!”
At a certain street corner Kitty halted suddenly, and Brent ran on. He rushed into Reeves' house like a whirlwind. ”Where's Snowdrift?” he cried, as the Reeves' stared wide-eyed at the blood-soaked apparition.
”What has happened----?”
”Where is she?” yelled Brent, his eyes glaring like a mad man's.
”I--we don't know. I was in the kitchen, and--” but Brent had dashed from the room, and when Reeves found his hat, the madman had disappeared in the darkness.
Quite a group of old timers had foregathered at Stoell's, Moosehide Charlie drifted in, and seeing Camillo Bill, Swift.w.a.ter Bill, and Old Bettles standing at the bar, he joined them.