"Well, I've--learned the truth."

Rouletta started; eagerly she clutched at the elder woman. "What?

You mean--?"

"Yes. I wrung it out of Courteau. He confessed."

"It WAS a frame-up--a plot? Oh, my dear--!"

"Exactly. But don't get hysterical. I'm the one to do that. What a night, what a day I've put in!" The speaker shuddered, and Rouletta noticed for the first time how pale, how ill she looked.

"Then Pierce is free already? He's out--?"

"Not yet. I'll tell you everything if you'll promise not to breathe a word, not to interfere until Henri has a chance to square himself. I--think I've earned the right to demand that much. I told you the whole thing was counterfeit--was the work of Joe McCaskey. I couldn't believe Henri was up to such villainy.

He's dissolute, weak, vain--anything you choose--but he's not voluntarily criminal. Well, I went to work on him. I pretended to- -" the Countess again shivered with disgust. "Oh, you saw what I was doing. I hated myself, but there was no choice. Things came to a climax last night. I don't like to talk about it--think about it--but you're bound to hear. I consented to go out with him. He dragged me through the dance-halls and the saloons--made me drink with him, publicly, and with the sc.u.m of the town." Noting the expression on her hearer's face, the Countess laughed shortly, mirthlessly. "Shocking, wasn't it? Low, indecent, wretched? That's what everybody is saying. Dawson is humming with it. G.o.d! How he humiliated me! But I loosened his tongue. I got most of the details--not all, but enough. It was late, almost daylight, before I succeeded. He slept all day, stupefied, and so did I, when I wasn't too ill.

"He remembered something about it, he had some shadowy recollection of talking too much. When he woke up he sent for me.

Then we had it. He denied everything, of course. He lied and he twisted, but I'm the stronger--always have been. I beat him down, as usual. I could have felt sorry for the poor wretch only for what he had put me through. He went out not long ago."

"Where to? Tell me--"

"To the Police--to Colonel Cavendish. I gave him the chance to make a clean breast of everything and save his hide, if possible.

If he weakens I'll take the bit in my teeth."

Rouletta stood motionless for a moment; then in deep emotion she exclaimed: "I'm so glad! And yet it must have been a terrible sacrifice. I think I understand how you must loathe yourself. It was a very generous thing to do, however. Not many women could have risen to it."

"I--hope he doesn't make me tell. I haven't much pride left, but-- I'd like to save what remains, for you can imagine what Cavendish will think. A wife betraying her husband for her--for another man!

What a story for those women on the hill!"

Impulsively Rouletta bent forward and kissed the speaker. "Colonel Cavendish will understand. He's a man of honor. But, after all, when a woman really--cares, there's a satisfaction, a compensation, in sacrifice, no matter how great."

Hilda Courteau's eyes were misty, their dark-fringed lids trembled wearily shut. "Yes," she nodded, "I suppose so. Bitter and sweet!

When a woman of my sort, my age and experience, lets herself really care, she tastes both. All I can hope is that Pierce never learns what he made me pay for loving him. He wouldn't understand- -yet." She opened her eyes again and met the earnest gaze bent upon her. "I dare say you think I feel the same toward him as you do, that I want him, that I'm hungry for him. Well, I'm not. I'm 'way past that. I've been through fire, and fire purifies. Now run along, child. I'm sure everything will come out right."

The earlier snowfall had diminished when Rouletta stepped out into the night, but a gusty, boisterous wind had risen and this filled the air with blinding clouds of fine, hard particles, whirled up from the streets, and the girl was forced to wade through newly formed drifts that rose over the sidewalks, in places nearly to her knees. The wind flapped her garments and cut her bare cheeks like a knife; when she pushed her way into the Rialto and stamped the snow from her feet her face was wet with tears; but they were frost tears. She dried them quickly and with a song in her heart she hurried back to the lunch-counter and climbed upon her favorite stool. There it was that Doret and his two elderly companions found her.

"Well, we sprung him," Tom announced.

"All we done was sign on the dotted line," Jerry explained. "But, say, if that boy hops out of town he'll cost us a lot of money."

"How's he going to hop out?" Tom demanded. "That's the h.e.l.l of this country--there's no getting away."

Jerry snorted derisively. "No gettin' away? What are you talkin'

about? Ain't the Boundary within ninety miles? 'Ain't plenty of people made get-aways? All they need is a dog-team and a few hours' start of the Police."

"Everyt'ing's all fix'," 'Poleon told his sister. "I had talk wit'

Pierce. He ain't comin' back here no more."

"Not coming back?" the girl exclaimed.

Doret met her startled gaze. "Not in dis kin' of place. He's cut 'em out for good. I mak' him promise."

"A touch of jail ain't a bad thing for a harum-scarum kid," Tom volunteered, as he finished giving his supper order. "It's a cold compress--takes down the fever--"

"Nothing of the sort," Jerry a.s.serted. "Jails is a total waste of time. I don't believe in 'em. You think this boy's tamed, do you?

Well, I talked with him, an' all I got to say is this: keep Courteau away from him or there's one Count you'll lose count of.

The boy's got pizen in him, an' I don't blame him none. If I was him I'd make that Frog hop. You hear me."

'Poleon met Rouletta's worried glance with a rea.s.suring smile. "I been t'inkin' 'bout dat, too. W'at you say I go pardners wit' him, eh? I got dog-team an' fine claim on hilltop. S'pose I geeve him half-interes' to go wit' me?"

"WILL you?" eagerly queried the girl.

"Already I spoke it to him. He say mebbe so, but firs' he's got li'l biznesse here."

"Of course! His case. But that will be cleared up. Mark what I say. Yes"--Rouletta nodded happily--"take him with you, 'Poleon-- out where things are clean and healthy and where he can get a new start. Oh, you make me very happy!"

The woodsman laid a big hand gently over hers. In a low voice he murmured: "Dat's all I want, ma soeur--to mak' you happy. If dat claim is wort' million dollar' it ain't too much to pay, but--I'm scare' she's 'noder b.u.m."

The song was still sounding in Rouletta's heart when she sat down at the faro-table, and all through the evening it seemed to her that the revelry round about was but an echo of her gladness.

Pierce was free, his name was clean. Probably ere this the whole truth was known to the Mounted Police and by to-morrow it would be made public.

Moreover, he and 'Poleon were to be partners. That generous woodsman, because of his affection for her, proposed to take the young fellow into his heart and make a man of him. That was like him--always giving much and taking little. Well, she was 'Poleon's sister. Who could tell what might result from this new union of interests? Of course, there was no pay out there on that mountain- crest, but hard work, honest poverty, an end of these demoralizing surroundings were bound to affect Pierce only for the better.

Rouletta blessed the name of Hilda Courteau, who had made this possible, and of 'Poleon Doret, too--'Poleon of the great heart, who loved her so sincerely, so unselfishly. He never failed her; he was a brother, truly--the best, the cheeriest, the most loyal in the world. Rouletta was amazed to realize what a part in her life the French Canadian had played. His sincere affection was about the biggest thing that had come to her, so it seemed.

Occupied with such comforting thoughts, Rouletta failed to note that the evening had pa.s.sed more quickly than usual and that it was after midnight. When she did realize that fact, she wondered what could have detained Lucky Broad. Promptness was a habit with him; he and Bridges usually reported at least a half-hour ahead of time.

She caught sight of the pair, finally, through the wide archway, and saw that they were surrounded by an excited crowd, a crowd that grew swiftly as some whisper, some intelligence, spread with electric rapidity through the barroom. Yielding to a premonition that something was amiss, Rouletta asked the lookout to relieve her, and, rising, she hurried into the other hall. Even before she had come within sound of Lucky's voice the cause of the general excitement was made known to her. It came in the form of an exclamation, a word or two s.n.a.t.c.hed out of the air. "Courteau!"

"Dead!" "Shot--back street--body just found!"

Fiercely Rouletta fought her way through the press, an unvoiced question trembling upon her lips. Broad turned at her first touch.

"Tough, ain't it?" said he. "Me and the Kid stumbled right over him--kicked him out of the snow. We thought he'd been froze."

"We never dreamed he'd been shot till we got him clean down to the drug-store," Bridges supplemented. "Shot in the back, too."

Questions were flying back and forth now. Profiting by the confusion, Rouletta dragged Broad aside and queried, breathlessly:

"Was he dead--quite dead--?"

"Oh, sure!"

"Who--shot him?" The question came with difficulty. Lucky stared at his interrogator queerly, then he shrugged.

"Quien sabe? n.o.body seen or heard the shooting. He'd been croaked a long while when we found him."

For a moment the two eyed each other silently. "Do you think--?"

Rouletta turned her white face toward the cashier's cage.

"More 'n likely. He was bitter--he made a lot of cracks around the Barracks. The first thing the Police said when we notified 'em was, 'Where's Phillips?' We didn't know the boy was out until that very minute or--we'd 'a' done different. We'd 'a' left the Count in the drift and run Phillips down and framed an alibi. Think of us, his pals, turnin' up the evidence!" Lucky breathed an oath.