“Say, bring up the ‘plugs,’ lads.  The old boy’s had his bellyfull.  I guess we’ll git on.”  Then he turned upon the broken money-lender and spoke while he re-charged the chambers of his pistol.

“See hyar, Lablache, this night’s work is on’y a beginning.  So long as you live in Foss River Settlement so long will I hunt you out an’ hustle yer stock.  You talked of houndin’ me, but I guess the shoe’s on the other foot.  I ain’t finished by a sight, an’ you’ll hear from me agin’.  I don’t fancy yer life,” he went on with a grin.  “Et’s too easy, I guess.  Et’s yer bills I’m after.  Ye’ve got plenty an’ to spare.  But bills is all-fired awk’ud to handle when they pass thro’ your dirty hands.  So I’ll wait till you’ve turned ’em into stock.  Savee?  I’m jest goin’ right on now.  Thar’s a bunch o’ yer steers waitin’ to be taken off.  Happen I’m goin’ to see to ’em right away.  One o’ these lads’ll jest set some bracelets on yer hands, and leave yer tucked up and comfortable so you can’t do any harm, and you can set right thar an’ wait till some ‘un comes along an’ looses yer.  So long, pard, an’ remember, Foss River’s the hottest place outside o’ hell fur you, jest now.”

Some of the half-breeds had brought up the horses whilst Retief was talking, and, as he finished speaking, the hustler vaulted on to the back of the great chestnut, Golden Eagle, and prepared to ride away.  Whilst the others were getting into their saddles he took one look at the wretched captive whose hands had been again secured.  There was a swift exchange of glances—­malevolent and murderous on the part of the money-lender, and derisive on the part of the half-breed—­then Retief swung his charger round, and, at the head of his men, galloped away out into the starry night.

CHAPTER XXI

HORROCKS LEARNS THE SECRET OF THE MUSKEG

The rope which brought Horrocks to the ground came near to strangling him.  He struggled wildly as he fell, and, as he struggled, the grip of the rope tightened.  He felt that the blood was ready to burst from his temples and eyes.  Then everything seemed to swim about him and he believed consciousness was leaving him.  Everything was done in a moment and yet he seemed to be passing through an eternity of time.

The lariat is a handy weapon, but to truly appreciate its merits one must be a prairie man.  The Breeds are prairie men.  They understand fully the uses to which a “rope” may be put.  For criminal purposes they appreciate its silent merits, and the dexterity with which they can use it makes its value equal to, and even surpass, the noisier and more tell-tale pistol.

The next thing that the policeman knew was that he was stretched on his back upon the ground, disarmed, and with a great bandanna secured about his eyes and mouth, and his hands tied behind his back.  Then a gruff voice bade him rise, and, as he silently obeyed, he was glad to feel that the gripping lariat was removed from his throat.  Truly had the officer’s pride gone before a fall.  And his feelings were now of the deepest chagrin.  He stood turning his head from side to side, blindly seeking to penetrate the bandage about his eyes.  He knew where he was, of course, but he would have given half his year’s salary for a sight of his assailants.