Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 103: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

(. } JACQUES OF THE THICK HEAD. 445 and put a coal to his pipe. He gazed down into the scowling face of Black Matthieu. “Tt seems hard to put a man in jail.” “ Truly!” At her tone Jacques wriggled. He was apologetic, miserable, but impelled by a pity which mastered him. © “‘ Gagnon has children, as I told you,” he said. ‘ Laplante is a young fellow, and they would take the best part of his life for a thing like this. As for Black Matthieu —mon Dieu! He is a tough bird, but cer- tainly he has courage!” “ Courage! So you admire the black- guard? You will invite him to try robbery, and perhaps murder, again to-morrow?” “ But, no!” Jacques puffed furiously at his pipe. see if they have a rifle. Then I'll put the old man and his furs on the sled and we'll start. They won’t dare to attack me in daylight, as I shall have at least my own rifle, and by night we'll be safe.” ‘“‘ Marvelous!”’ exclaimed Céleste. ‘“ Me, I am going to start for my father’s house at dawn and leave you to your folly. For the present I’m going to sleep behind the stove!” Gagnon laughed. Grondin got up delib- erately and lifted his open hand as though to strike the prisoner across the face; then he let the arm fall and turned away. “Hit him!” said Black Matthieu sober- ly. But Jacques shook his head and sat down again by the table, to smoke and watch his wife as she made a bed of blankets on the floor. She lay down, and after-a long time he knew that she slept. He got up, walking on tiptoe, and filed the stove. He gave another drink to the sick man before he went back to his seat. In-the dim light of the oil lamp, which he had turned down, Jacques saw that his prisoners were apparently dozing, their heads sunk on their chests. He resisted an impulse to loosen the ropes that bound them, telling himself sternly that he was growing to be more of a fool every day. - Certainly his wife was justified in going back to her father’s home. He had lost her,. just as he had failed in everything. If it were not for her safety, and the furs he “Tl go over to their cabin to _ would let the robbers loose—let them take what revenge they wished on him. He had neither desire for life nor courage for the future. He looked drowsily at his big silver watch and saw that it was midnight. That was the last. thing he remembered until a kind of thrill went through him—one of those silent warnings that sometimes strike mysteriously into the sleep of a man and bring him up from the depths of fatigue with every sense at the alert. So Jacques Grondin’s muscles were set for action even as his ears filled with the sound of shuffling feet and quick breathing. He opened his eyes upon a_battle going on almost within reach of his hand. : Black Matthieu. was locked in the arms oi Gagnon and Laplante, who were on him like dogs on a wounded bear. All three had got their knives again -— they were treading underfoot the ropes with which they had been tied. Matthieu held the others for the moment, but blood streamed from a cut on his head, and his knife-hand was raised and helpless in the clutching fingers of Laplante. They were still for an instant straining. Then steel flashed against Matthieu’s dark shirt and a blade drove deep into his side. He went backward, pulling the other two down with him. By that time Grondin was on his feet. He reached down, and his broad, thick hands closed upon the necks of Laplante and Gagnon. He lifted the men up with their tongues lolling from opened jaws and brought their skulls together with a crack hike the report of a pistol. They sprawled into a corner and lay still. Jacques knelt, and as he lifted the head of Black Matthieu, Céleste reached his side with a tin cup of water and a bottle of whisky blanc. She began to cut away the shirts of the wounded man. His lids lifted slowly and an expression that was almost a smile softened his face. “Youre a good fellow, Grondin!” he whispered. ‘“ That’s why I was—a—a_ fool!” “You save my husband,” said Ceéleste. “T woke up just as they got the knives— and saw.” “Name of a name!” swore Grondin ConmicooolkS.comnn