The Huntress - Part 58
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Part 58

"No," said Beattie; "he was in some kind of partnership with a man called Walter Forest, a white man. Forest died, and the amount was transferred to Musq'oosis. It's twenty years ago. I inherited the debt from my predecessor here."

Joe, seeing that the trader had nothing more of special interest to tell him, let the talk pa.s.s on to other matters. By and by he rose, saying:

"Guess I'll go down and talk to the old boy until dinner's ready."

"It is always profitable," said Beattie. "Come in again."

"I'll let you know about the plough," said Joe.

"h.e.l.lo, Musq'oosis!" began Joe facetiously. "Fine weather for old bones, eh?"

"Ver' good," replied Musq'oosis blandly. The old man had no great liking for this burly youth with the comely, self-indulgent face, nor did he relish his style of address; however, being a philosopher and a gentleman, this did not appear in his face. "Sit down," he added hospitably.

Musq'oosis was making artificial flies against the opening of the trout season next month. With bits of feather, hair, and thread he was turning out wonderfully lifelike specimens--not according to the conventional varieties, but as a result of his own half-century's experience on neighbouring streams. A row of the completed product was stuck in a smooth stick, awaiting possible customers.

"Out of sight!" said Joe, examining them.

"I t'ink maybe sell some this year," observed Musq'oosis. "Plenty new men come."

"How much?" asked Joe.

"Four bits."

"I'll take a couple. There's a good stream beside my place."

"Stick 'em in your hat."

After this transaction Musq'oosis liked Joe a little better. He entered upon an amiable dissertation on fly-fishing, to which Joe gave half an ear, while he debated how to lead up to what he really wanted to know. In the end it came out bluntly.

"Say, Musq'oosis, what do you know about a fellow called Walter Forest?"

Musq'oosis looked at Joe, startled. "You know him?" he asked.

"Yes," said Joe. Recollecting that Beattie had told him the man had been dead twenty years, he hastily corrected himself. "That is, not exactly. Not personally."

"Uh!" said Musq'oosis.

"I thought I'd ask you, you're such an old-timer."

"Um!" said Musq'oosis again. There was nothing in this so far to arouse his suspicions. But on principle he disliked to answer questions. Whenever it was possible he answered a question by asking another.

"Did you know him?" persisted Joe.

"Yes," replied Musq'oosis guardedly.

"What like man was he?"

"What for you want know?"

"Oh, a fellow asked me to find out," answered Joe vaguely. He gained a.s.surance as he proceeded. "Fellow I met in Prince George. When he heard I was coming up here he said: 'See if you can find out what's become of Walter Forest. Ain't heard from him in twenty year.'"

"What this fellow call?" asked Musq'oosis.

"Er--George Smith," Joe improvised. "Big, dark-complected guy.

Traveller in the cigar line."

Musq'oosis nodded.

"Walter Forest died twenty year ago," he said.

"How?" asked Joe.

"Went through the ice wit' his team."

"You don't say!" said Joe. "Well! Well! I said I'd write and tell George."

Joe was somewhat at a loss how to go on. He said "Well! Well!" again.

Finally he asked: "Did you know him well?"

"He was my friend," said Musq'oosis.

"Tell me about him," said Joe. "So I can write, you know."

Musq'oosis was proud of his connection with Walter Forest. There was no reason why he should not tell the story to anybody. Had he not urged upon Bela to use her own name? It never occurred to him that anyone could trace the pa.s.sage of the father's bequest from one set of books to the other. So in his simple way he told the story of Walter Forest's life and death in the country.

"Well! Well!" exclaimed Joe. "Smitty will be interested. You said he was married. Did he leave any family?"

"His baby come after," said Musq'oosis. "Two months."

"What's become of it?"

Musq'oosis nodded toward the shack. "That is Bela," he said.

Joe clenched his hands to keep from betraying a start. This was what he wanted. He bit his lip to hide the cruel smile that spread upon it.

"Why you smile?" asked Musq'oosis.

"No reason," replied Joe hastily. "I thought her name was Bela Charley."

"Her mot'er marry Charley Fish-Eater after," explained Musq'oosis.

"People forget Walter Forest's baby. So call Bela Charley. Right name Bela Forest."

"Well," said Joe, "that's quite a story. Did he leave any property?"

Musq'oosis glanced at him sharply. His suspicions began to be aroused.

"No," he said shortly.