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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..efed5ba --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68548 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68548) diff --git a/old/68548-0.txt b/old/68548-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d09c48f..0000000 --- a/old/68548-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2965 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Arizona Callahan, by H. -Bedford-Jones - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Arizona Callahan - -Author: H. Bedford-Jones - -Release Date: July 17, 2022 [eBook #68548] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARIZONA CALLAHAN *** - - - - - - The Arizona Callahan - - By H. Bedford-Jones - - - The same distinguished writer who gave you such - thrilling stories of far places as “The Brazen Peacock” - and “Lou-Lou” knows the odd corners of his own country - too--as witness this exciting story of adventure among - the untamed Beaver Islanders. - - [Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the March - 1924 issue of Blue Book Magazine.] - - - - - CHAPTER I - - -Nelly Callahan was the only one to see just what happened. Everyone -else in camp had gone down the island that day to get a count of the -half-wild cattle among the blueberry swamps. - -The wild drive of rain and low clouds to the westward hid Garden -Island from sight and lowered all the horizon, until Lake Michigan -seemed a small place. Beaver Island was clear vanished, and so was -High Island with its colony of Israelites. Nothing was to be seen -from this north end of Hog Island except the foaming shallows and -the deeper water beyond, and the huge rollers bursting in from the -Wisconsin shore--with two other things. One, as the keen blue eyes of -the watching girl could make out, was or had been a boat; the other -was a man. - -She had heard shots, faint reports cracking down the wind, drawing -her to the point of land to see what was happening out there toward -Garden Island. For a long while there was nothing to see, until the -boat came into sight. It was only a blotch, rising and then gone -again, gradually sinking from sight altogether. Few would have seen -it. Nelly Callahan, however, was an island girl, and her eye was -instantly caught by anything outside the settled scheme of things. -So she knew it for a boat, and after a time knew that it had gone -down entirely. - -Presently she made out the man. To her intense astonishment he was -sitting in the stern of a canoe, and paddling. Canoes are rare -things in the Beaver Islands these days; here in the center of Lake -Michigan, with the nearest land little more than a mirage above the -horizon, there are other and safer playthings, and life is too -bitter hard to be lightly held. - -Yet here was a canoe driving down the storm, a rag of sail on a -stumpy mast forward, tarpaulins lashed over freight-rolls amidships, -the man paddling in the stern. What connection was there between him -and that sunken boat, and those shots behind the curtain of rain and -mist? - -That he was trying to get in under the curving line of exposed ledge -and shoal that ran out from the point was obvious. If he missed, he -would be carried on out to the open lake, for once around the point -his chances of getting to land were slim. Nelly Callahan watched him -admiringly as he fought, gaining inch by inch, now leaning hard on -his paddle, now stroking desperately as the gusty wind threw off the -canoe’s head. The odds were worse than he could realize, too; all -along the point there were shoals, running only two to three feet of -water, and his canoe evidently carried a centerboard. - - * * * * * - -Suddenly she saw the paddle snap in his hands. The canoe swayed -wildly over, swayed back again, rose on a sweeping foam-crest and -was flung forward. Another instant, and she would have been rolled -over, but the man snatched out another paddle and dug it in. Again -the stubborn, straining fight, but he had lost ground, and the -current was setting out around the point of land. - -Still, he had a good chance to win. He was closer, now; Nelly -Callahan could see that his shirt was torn to ribbons, that his -mouth was bleeding; and those things did not come from wind and rain -alone. The canoe was a wide lake-cruiser, safe enough in any sea -except for her heavy load--but this rock-studded shore water was safe -for no craft. All the wide expanse around the Beavers is treacherous -with rocks barely awash. - -An invisible hand seemed to strike the man suddenly, knocking him -forward on his face. The canoe staggered, lay over on one side--she -had struck bottom. Frantically the man recovered, jerked up the -centerboard, threw in the pin. But he was too late; he had lost the -game. The bow, with its scrap of sail, bore off before the sweep of -wind, and like an arrow the canoe darted out around the point and -was gone. - -For a moment Nelly Callahan stood motionless at the edge of the -trees. Then she turned and started to cut across the base of the -long point, to get a view of the north shore beyond. There was no -trail, however. Nobody lived on Hog Island; the brush was heavy and -almost impenetrable. Excited, breathless, the girl struggled on her -way, but knew that she was too slow. However, she kept on. Presently -she burst through the final barrier, her feet slipping and sliding -on the ground-pine that trailed across the sand, and came out on the -northern stretch of shore. Nothing was in sight. - -For a little while she stood there, dismayed, agonized, incredulous. -She had been a long while getting here, of course; yet some sign of -man or canoe, even had the latter capsized, must have been within -sight. Here around the point the force of the rollers was lessened, -too. Yet everything was empty. Man and canoe had vanished. - - * * * * * - -A shout roused the girl. She glanced over her shoulder, fear -flitting into her blue eyes; then she turned and retraced her steps. - -When she stepped back into the clearing of the camp, the others had -returned. She shrank within herself slightly, as always, as her eyes -swept them; for though Nelly was a Beaver girl, she was also -something more. Her mother had come from the mainland, and there was -none of the closely interbred strain in Nelly Callahan. - -“Where ye been?” called Matt Big Mary, her father, combing out his -tangle of black beard with knotted fingers. “Get the coffee on, -girl! It’s needin’ it we are, the day.” - -It was something of a tribute to Matt Callahan that he was not known -by the usual island diminutive, though the peculiar system of -nomenclature obtained to distinguish him from his cousin Matty -Basset Callahan. He was a giant of a man, massive as an oak, in his -deep eyes a brooding, glooming shadow that had lain there since his -wife died. - -The others were merry enough, however, for Hughie Dunlevy had fallen -into the swamp and mired himself head over ears; small wonder that -Jimmy Basset and Willy Tom Gallagher made sport at that, since -Hughie Dunlevy was a great man on the island, holding a second -mate’s ticket, and strong as any two men except Matt Big Mary. He -was fishing this summer, going partners with Matt, and had bought a -half-interest in the Callahan cattle that ran here on Hog Island. -Men said in St. James that he would make a good son-in-law to Matt, -for it is always the wildest who settle down the best, and if he -would but leave Jimmy Basset’s moonshine liquor alone, he had a -great future fronting him. - -Here for a week they were, pulling the long stakes that had held -pound-nets all the spring out at the edge of deep water where the -great trout and whitefish ran, and working the north island shore -with trap-nets and bloater lines. Here for a week were the four men, -with Nelly Callahan to cook and mind camp. She and her father -occupied the old shanty at the edge of the clearing; the other three -slept in the brown tent near by. - -Now, any other Beaver girl would have at once drawn general -attention to the sunken boat, which would wash in and make salvage, -and to the presumably drowned man and his canoe. But Nelly Callahan -kept quiet. She had become a changed girl since getting home from -her school-teaching this spring, and finding that her father had -made a match with Hughie Dunlevy for her; much had happened; -sorrowful things had transpired; and Nelly Callahan was biding her -time. - -Half an hour passed by, and the noon meal was over; and since the -weather was too bad for work, there was naught to be done but sit -and smoke. Then Matt Big Mary took Jimmy Basset and Willy Tom -Gallagher with him, and a trap-net from the big launch dragged up -under the trees, and set off down the shore. He gave Hughie Dunlevy -a significant wink. - -“We’ll take the skiff down to Belmore Bay,” said he, “and be setting -a trap out beyond the old wreck, and maybe pick up a fifty-dollar -box o’ bass come Saturday. Hughie, me lad, keep your eye on the -camp.” - -“Aye,” said big Hughie, grinning all over his broad, good-natured -face; and they filed off down the shore on their two-mile tramp to -Belmore Bay. Nelly was keenly aware of the strategy, but made no -comment. She was afraid of Hughie, as well she might be. A fine, -strapping lad he was except when he was crossed, and good-humored -while he had his own way and there was no liquor in him; yet he was -one to be afraid of. - -“There’s more cattle down the island than we looked for, Nelly,” -said he, chewing at a cigar and watching the girl as she cleaned up. -“The buyer will be over from East Jordan next week, and then -there’ll be doings. What’s more, there’s some big pine in yonder -that’s never been cut out. I’m thinkin’ of raftin’ it over to the -mill.” - -“Good idea, if you owned it,” said a strange voice. “But you don’t.” - - * * * * * - -Hughie Dunlevy turned, stared, came to his feet with a leap. There -at the edge of the trees, his approach unheard, stood the man whom -Nelly Callahan had seen in the canoe. He wore nothing but his ragged -shirt, the most essential half of a pair of overalls, and canvas -shoes. Short, curly red hair crowned a face that was -weather-hardened, humorous, strongboned; one glimpsed sparkling gray -eyes that could either laugh or glitter, and a wide, generous mouth. -Dripping wet as he was, the stranger showed bruises and a cut lip, -and a red streak ran across his half-exposed chest. - -“If you could spare me a bite to eat, young lady, I’d appreciate -it!” exclaimed the stranger genially. “Did I scare you folks? Sorry! -My boat went down, and I was washed ashore, saw the smoke of your -fire, and came for it. Is that a fish mulligan I smell? Then if -there’s any left, have pity on a starving man!” - -Nelly, with a smile at his laughing words, turned to the big pot. -Hughie Dunlevy regarded the stranger with a frown on his wide -features. - -“Where’d ye come from? Who are ye?” - -“Callahan’s my name,” said the stranger, coming forward. - -“You’re no island Callahan!” said Dunlevy promptly. The other -laughed. - -“No, I haven’t that honor; but our ancestors were kings in Ireland -at the same time. I don’t go by that name either; mostly folks call -me Hardrock.” - -“Hardrock Callahan, eh?” exclaimed the girl, not liking the general -aspect of Hughie Dunlevy. “Well, I’m Nelly Callahan, and this is my -father’s camp, and you’re welcome. Shake hands with Hughie Dunlevy -and make yourself comfortable. I’ll have this mulligan hot in a -minute, and coffee’s all ready.” - -Hardrock stepped forward and extended his hand. Dunlevy accepted it, -though not with any marked warmth, and for an instant the two men -measured each other. - -“What was that you said when you showed up?” demanded Hughie. “About -me not owning this timber?” - -“Something like that, I guess.” Hardrock Callahan laughed -cheerfully. “I happen to own it myself. Oh, coffee ready? Thanks, -Miss Callahan--or if I may say so, Miss Nelly! I hate to use the name -of Callahan on the Beavers--too many other Callahans here already.” - -He sat down, turned his back to the scowling, indeterminate Hughie, -and sipped the hot coffee. Nelly Callahan did not smile, however, as -she put the mulligan pot in the embers. It had come to her that -while she was crossing the point, this man must have worked his -canoe in to the shore, have dragged it up, and have made camp. And -what was this story of owning the timber? - -“You and me will have a talk,” said Hughie Dunlevy, “when you’ve had -a bite to eat.” - -“Right,” said Hardrock Callahan. “I’ve had one or two talks already -this morning.” - -The girl looked at him, met his twinkling gray eyes, and smiled -despite herself. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - -Nelly Callahan saw that this man Hardrock was a stranger; and yet he -was not a stranger. No one but a fool would have walked ashore on -the Beavers and claimed ownership of land, unless he was known and -accepted; for little good his law title would do him. Hardrock was -certainly not a fool, however; and at the same time he had some -knowledge of the islands. He had hidden his canoe and the stuff in -it; and it was significant that Nelly did not look upon the story he -told as a lie, but as justifiable precaution. Was it his motorboat -that she had seen sinking? - -“And did ye say,” inquired Hughie, recalling the boat, “that your -boat had gone down?” - -“Motorboat,” and Hardrock nodded in affirmation. “Hit a sunken rock -out yonder and raked her bottom out.” - -“Where from?” - -“St. James.” - -Hughie scowled at that, as well he might, since no one but an -islander was from St. James; and this man was no islander. Set in -the middle of Lake Michigan, inhabited by a hundred and fifty -families, each related to the others, living by the loot of the -lakes and woods, the islanders were a clannish lot who clung -together and let the world go by. A few Indians lingered; a few -outsiders had roamed in; a few tourists came and went; and over on -High Island was the colony of Israelites--silent, wistful men with -wide eyes and hairy lips. No law was on the Beavers, nor ever had -been, save when King Strang established his brief Mormon kingdom at -St. James. There was not an officer in the group, not a judge nor a -lawyer nor a doctor, and one man was as good as another; and once -when the revenue men came to pry around, with talk of the Eighteenth -Amendment, there were dark tales of what happened by night--but no -more revenue men came. As for game wardens they were not fools. - -The Beavers were not out of touch with the world, however. Scarce a -large boat on the western lakes but had from one to ten islanders -aboard, and the Beaver Gallaghers were known from Buffalo to Duluth; -how many island men lay at the bottom of Whitefish Bay, it was hard -to say. Some, who made money, spent the winters in Chicago or -elsewhere; and Bowery Callahan, who swung the island vote, was State -road-inspector and traveled up and down the land enjoying his ease. - - * * * * * - -Nelly looked at the two men by the fire, and felt a sudden hurt in -the heart of her for the smiling stranger. He had no fear in his -eye, and under his brown throat his skin was white like ivory, and -his arms under their tattered sleeves were smooth as silk. At him as -he ate glared Hughie Dunlevy, broad and dark like all the Dunlevys, -rippling with great muscles, a man with strength to toss a box of -fish like a toy; and many a tale was told of Hughie on the lake -boats, and how he put the boots to any man who dared stand up to -him. - -Now Hardrock sighed, and smiled at Nelly, and thanked her for his -meal. - -“We’ll have our talk,” said he to Hughie, “and then I’ll have a -smoke.” - -“I’m not so sure about that,” said Hughie. “What are ye doing here?” - -“Resting on my own land, if you want to know. I bought this end of -the island from Eddie John Macaulay in Charlevoix.” - -There was no parry between the two of them, no hesitation. Hardrock -looked Hughie in the eye and gave him the news straight and direct. - -“Buying isn’t keeping,” said Hughie. “We’ll have a word about that -matter. Eddie John told us to take the timber if we wanted it, and -take it we will.” - -The gray eyes of Hardrock glittered for a moment. - -“Take it you wont,” said he bluntly. - -Hughie laughed, and it was a laugh to reach under the skin and -sting. - -“Is that so, Mr. Callahan? It’s sorry I’d be to hurt ye, and you -washed ashore and out of luck; so keep a civil tongue in your head. -Have no such talk around Matt Big Mary, I warn ye, for this is his -camp and mine, and he’s a bad man in his anger.” - -Hardrock’s thin lips twitched. “So they said about Connie Dunlevy -this morning in St. James. I hope he’s not related to you? He came -out on the dock to have a talk with me, and I think they’re taking -him over on the mailboat this afternoon to the hospital.” - -Hughie scrambled to his feet. “Glory be! What have ye done to my -brother Connie, ye red-haired outlander?” - -“Not a thing,” said Hardrock, and chuckled. “Poor Connie fell off -the dock. I think he broke a rib or two, and maybe his shoulder.” - -“Get up!” cried Hughie hoarsely, passion flaming in his face. “So -that’s who marked ye up, eh? Then I’ll finish the job--” - -Hardrock stretched himself and began to rise, lazily enough. Just -then Nelly Callahan stepped forward. - -“Don’t, Hughie!” she exclaimed. “It isn’t fair--you mustn’t! He’s all -worn out--” - -Hughie turned on her and shoved her aside. “Out o’ this! Stand -aside, and see--” - -He never finished the sentence, for Hardrock was off the ground like -a spring of steel, a billet of firewood in one hand, and the sound -of the blow could be heard across the clearing. Struck behind the -ear Hughie Dunlevy threw out his arms and went down in a heap. -Hardrock looked at Nelly Callahan, and the glitter of his eyes -changed to a smile. - -“So that’s that,” he said coolly. “Too bad I had to use the stick, -Miss Nelly, but you spoke the truth when you said I was done up. -Don’t worry about him--he’ll come around after a bit. Do you suppose -you could find me a bit of dry tobacco? Then we’ll sit down and talk -things over.” - -For a moment the girl looked at him. She was blue of eye and black -of hair, and the color was high in her cheeks; and when she smiled -there came a dimple on either side of her mouth, and her body held a -spring of the foot and a supple grace of round lines that the -school-teaching had not taken out of her. Suddenly a laugh broke in -her eyes. - -“Hughie had it coming, I think,” said she, and turned. “I’ll get you -the tobacco.” - -She got him some, and sat down at the fire and watched him stuff it -into his pipe and light it with an ember. Hughie Dunlevy lay where -he had fallen. - -“Father and the other boys will be back in an hour or sooner,” she -said. “I think you’d better go and get that canoe of yours, and be -off while you have the chance.” - -Hardrock gave her a swift look, then chuckled. - -“Oh! Saw me land, did you? No, I’m not going, thanks. I’m staying.” - -“Then you’ll have trouble, I’m afraid.” - -He shrugged, and lay back on one elbow, smoking contentedly. - -“Very likely. Eddie John Macaulay thought he worked a smooth trick -when he sold me this end of the island, timber and all, but I’d been -warned beforehand. I spent the night at St. James and went up to the -dance and had a grand time. Connie Dunlevy had too much moonshine, -though, and this morning he started to make trouble.” - -“Listen, please!” said the girl, an urgent note in her voice. “You -can’t take this seriously--but you must! You don’t understand. You’ll -not be allowed to stay, after all that’s happened. Who was shooting -out in the channel? What boat was that I saw sinking?” - -Hardrock took the pipe from his lips and regarded her for a moment. - -“My dear Nelly,” he said quietly, “I’m afraid you’re the one who -doesn’t understand. Did you ever hear of Danny Gallagher?” - -Her eyes opened at that. “Danny? Why of course! His father Vesty -owns the sawmill down at the head of the island. But Danny has been -away two years, in Arizona.” - -“And I’ve come from Arizona,” said Hardrock. “That’s where I got my -nickname. I’ve been running a mine out there, and Danny has been -working with me. He’s a fine boy, Danny is! He told me so much about -the islands that I came up here when I got a year off, and I’m going -to settle down in a cabin here under the trees, and finish writing a -mining book for engineers. Danny has written his father about me. I -meant to look up Vesty, but haven’t had a chance yet.” - - * * * * * - -The troubled comprehension in the blue eyes of the girl deepened at -this. - -“Why didn’t you do it first?” she broke out. “If people knew that -Danny had sent you here, and Vesty Gallagher would answer for you, -there’d have been no trouble! Vesty is a big man on the island. A -word from him--” - -“My dear girl, I stand on my own feet,” said Hardrock quietly. “The -sunken boat you saw was mine. Two of Connie’s friends got after me. -I suppose they thought it was quite safe, for the rain was coming -down in sheets and one could scarcely see three hundred yards. They -ran me down before I knew what they were up to. Fortunately, I had -time to cut the canoe loose and get into her, and then I opened up -on the two rascals with my shotgun, and gave them plenty. Never -fear! When I go over to St. James I’ll know ’em again, and take a -little punishment out of them for the loss of that motorboat. -Satisfied, are you?” - -Under his twinkling gray eyes, the girl laughed a little. - -“Hold it!” he exclaimed. “Oh, no use--gone again.” - -“Eh?” Her gaze widened. “What?” - -“Those dimples. How long is this camp to continue?” - -“Until the first of the week.” Nelly Callahan was disconcerted by -his abrupt change of subject and forgot to resent the personality. -“Father’s rounding up some cattle and counting how many there are -here.” - -“Good! Then I’ll be over to the dance next Thursday night. May I -take you?” - -She was startled by his words. She was more startled a moment later -when a crashing of brush sounded, and she leaped to her feet. - -“Oh! Father’s coming--” - -“Answer the question,” persisted Hardrock. “Quick!” - -“Yes,” she said, and then turned swiftly to him. “Go quickly--” - -“Nonsense!” Hardrock puffed at his pipe. “Nothing to get excited -about. I’m not going to start any trouble, I promise you. Great -Scott! Is that your father?” - -He stared at the huge figure of Matt Big Mary advancing upon him, -with the other two men following. All three gaped at him. Matt, -astonished, came to a halt. - -“What’s this!” he rumbled. “Hughie! Where’s Hughie, lass? Who’s yon -man?” - -“Hughie’s gone to sleep,” said Hardrock, and came easily to his -feet. “My name’s Callahan--” - -“He’s a friend of Danny Vesty Gallagher,” broke in the girl swiftly. -“From Arizona. And Danny had him buy this end of the island from -Eddie John Macaulay, Father.” - -“Shipwrecked on my own land,” said Hardrock, laughing. He held out -his hand. “You’re Matt Callahan--Matt Big Mary? Danny has told me -about you. Glad to meet you.” - -Matt gave him a huge grip, between surprise and bewilderment. - -“What’s all this? Bought it off of Eddie John, ye did? And what d’ye -mean by shipwrecked? There’s been no boat--” - -“My motorboat went down,” said Hardrock. “I got ashore with my -duffle, though. Got a camp down shore a piece. Came over from St. -James this morning.” - -“Oh! And it’s a friend o’ Vesty Gallagher ye are, eh? What’s the -matter with Hughie?” - -“Hughie made a mistake,” Hardrock grinned cheerfully. “He didn’t -believe that I had bought this bit of the island. Somehow, Hughie -and I didn’t get along very well. He had some queer idea that I -ought to walk home, and I didn’t agree with him. So he went to -sleep. I guess I’ll be going. Drop over to my camp sometime. I’ll -likely run in and see you again. Thanks for the coffee, Miss Nelly.” - -And he was gone, with a wave of his hand, before the three -astonished men knew what to say or do. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - -Hardrock Callahan passed along the narrow sand-strip that edged the -north shore of Hog Island, until he found a slight opening among the -trees that suited him. Then he came back to his pulled-up canoe and -began to transport his load to the spot selected; the canoe itself -he left hidden where it was. - -The storm was not clearing off, but was turning and bringing down a -new and colder drift of rain and wind from the north. Ax in hand, -Hardrock attacked the tangle of dead and living trees that rimmed -him in like a wall. For an hour he worked steadily, slowly driving -back the growth and clearing the grassy sward that had attracted -him; then he dragged the debris to the shore and was rid of it. This -done, he sat down in the wet sand, stuffed some of his own tobacco -into his pipe, and sighed comfortably. - -“What a girl!” he observed. “And she’s the same one Danny Gallagher -showed me the picture of, too. That’s a coincidence. Well, I’d -better get a shelter up before I settle down to dream about her. -Good thing the motorboat went down instead of my canoe! She’s a -grade above most of the islanders that I’ve seen--” - -Whether he referred to canoe or girl was not determined. - -He set to work methodically getting up the tent, which he now -unlashed, and anchored it securely. His clearing opened on the shore -to the north, and the trees fully protected him from the eternal -west winds; since he was pitching the tent for all summer, he made a -thorough job of it, and this took time. Then, opening up some of his -bundles, he produced flannel shirt and corduroys and other garments, -and clothed himself in decency. Having already collected some dry -wood from the thicket, he now built up a cheerful blaze and watched -the wispy smoke whirl away in gray shreds down the wind. The -afternoon was waning, and he was considering opening up some grub -when a huge figure came into his vista of the shore and Matt Big -Mary was striding up to him. - -“Greetings!” exclaimed Hardrock cordially. “Come in out of the rain -and toast your shins.” - -The big man nodded solemnly, sat down beside Hardrock in the tent -opening, produced a black pipe and blacker tobacco, and lighted up. -He sat for a little in silence, staring over the fire at the gray -lake with those deep-set, melancholy eyes of his. At length he -removed the pipe from his lips and spoke. - -“Hughie tells me ye’ve bought the timber.” - -“Yes. It went with the land, said Eddie John. I’ve no use for it, -except this tall pine right back of here. If you want the rest, you -can have it.” - -“I don’t,” said Matt. “You’re none of the island Callahans?” - -“No. New York State.” - -“So are we, out of County Tyrone. All the same stock.” Matt puffed -over that for a bit. “Ye done a bad day’s work, fallin’ foul of -Hughie Dunlevy.” - -“That’s as may be. Sooner him than you.” - -Matt turned and swept Hardrock with his slow gaze. “Why?” - -“Because,”--and Hardrock stretched himself out more -comfortably,--“because I expect to marry your daughter.” - -“I don’t like jokes,” said Matt Big Mary, after a moment. “Not that -kind.” - -“I’m not joking,” said Hardrock coolly. “Danny Gallagher showed me a -picture of her, and that’s why I came here, partly. Now that I’ve -seen her and talked with her, I _know_. I’m fair with you. If she’s -in love with nobody else, and I can win her, I’ll do it.” - -“Hot head, queer heart,” said Matt, a gathering rumble in his tone. - -Hardrock laughed. “I’m safe enough.” - -“She’s promised.” - -“By herself or by you?” - -“No matter. Hughie Dunlevy marries her.” - -“No.” - -Storm grew in Matt’s eyes, and his big black beard bristled. - -“Careful, me lad! The boys wanted to come over and have a talk with -ye, but I set down me foot. I want no trouble, without ye force it -on me. I’ll have no man makin’ light talk of my girl, more -particular a stranger.” - -“It’s not light talk, Matt; I mean every word of it,” said Hardrock. -“And I’m not a good one to bluff, either. You fellows on the -Beavers, Matt, are all clannish, and you all stick together like -burrs, and you throw a strong bluff. Why? Because you’re all afraid -of the big world. Let a better man walk in and whip one or two of -you, and things are different. Besides, I have a friend or so if I -want to call on ’em, and I’ll be no outcast. So think twice, Matt, -before you lay down the law.” - -Even while he spoke, Hardrock felt his words fruitless. Matt’s -mental horizon was too narrowed to comprehend him in the least. - -“You take my advice,” said Matt Big Mary after a moment. “Be out of -here before tomorry night, me lad. Ye’ll find a skiff on the shore -down to the bay--” - -“Want me to put you off my land, Matt?” said Hardrock quietly. - -The other was so astonished that he turned his head and stared. What -he saw in those hard, icy gray eyes held him silent. Hardrock -continued: - -“You seem to think, Matt, that I’m a boy to obey you. I’m not. I -don’t intend to put up a ‘No Trespass’ sign and keep folks off, but -I’m not taking orders from you, and I’m not scared worth a damn. If -you bring a fight to me, I’ll meet you halfway every time. I’ve -tried to be decent with you, because I want no trouble. Now, I have -to be in St. James tomorrow morning, and I’ll expect you to see that -my camp here isn’t disturbed while I’m gone; you’re square enough to -keep your men away from it. Think things over. When I come back, -I’ll see you. If you’ve made up your mind to avoid trouble and meet -me halfway, I’ll be glad. If not, we’ll settle things in a hurry. -What d’you say to that?” - -Matt Big Mary laughed slowly. - -“Aye,” said he. “That’s fair, Hardrock. But you’ll not come back -from the island, if what Hughie did be tellin’ us is so. Connie -Dunlevy will be waitin’ for you, or his friends.” - -“So will Vesty Gallagher.” Hardrock grinned cheerfully. “I’ll be -back tomorrow night or next day. Anything you want me to fetch with -me--mail or grub?” Matt stared at him a moment, then rose to his -feet. - -“Damned if I can make ye out,” said he reflectively. “So long. I’ll -answer that the boys don’t touch your camp.” - -He strode away and vanished along the shore. - - * * * * * - -When daylight died, the storm was blown out and the rollers were -already going down. Hardrock Callahan, after luxuriously dining on -beans and biscuit and hot tea, smoked his pipe and watched the -stars, then laid out his blankets and rolled up. He was asleep -almost at once. - -It was two in the morning when he wakened, as he had set himself to -do. A glance at his watch confirmed the hour. He dressed, and went -down to the shore. Everything was quiet, save for the wash of waves -and the whisper of breeze in the trees overhead. Off to the -northwest came the swift, clear flash of the Garden Shoal light, and -farther west, the red flash from Squaw Island light glimmered over -the horizon. Nodding, Hardrock returned to his tent, produced an -electric torch and for ten minutes pored over an unrolled chart of -the island group. - -Then, satisfied, he laced up the tentflap, turned to the shore, and -went to where the wide lake-cruising canoe was laid up under the -bushes. In ten minutes the light craft was standing out under the -breeze, rounding the point and holding south for Beaver Island and -St. James. - -The dawn was breaking when he drew down toward the long and narrow -harbor. Instead of holding for it, however, he went to the right of -the unwinking red eye of the lighthouse, came to shore on the point -amid the thick trees and half-ruined dwellings there, and drew up -the canoe from sight. Hardrock Callahan was learning caution. He set -out afoot, and presently came to the road that wound along the bay -and was the artery of the straggling row of houses circling the -bay-shore for a mile or more and forming the town of St. James. - -The sun was rising upon a glorious day when he had passed down the -length of the bay to the head, and reached the hotel and the -restaurant adjoining. The hotel was not yet alive for the day, but -the island itself was astir, and the restaurant was open. Hardrock -went in and breakfasted leisurely by the help of Rose McCafferty, -who was waitress, cook and proprietor. Finding himself taken for an -early tourist from the hotel out for the morning’s fishing, he let -it go at that. - -“Hear any more about the boys who were shot up?” he inquired -casually, in the course of the meal. The response stupefied him. - -“Glory be, and what more is there to hear, except the name o’ the -scoundrel that done it? Poor Marty Biddy Basset--a grand boy he was, -and only yesterday morning he was settin’ here before me! And Owen -John will maybe get well, but the fever’s on him and it’s no talkin’ -he’ll do this long while. The doctor at the hotel is wid him this -blessed minute.” - -“Eh?” Hardrock stared at her. “One of them’s dead, you say? I didn’t -know that--” - -“Wasn’t they picked up by the Danes and brought in last night, and -poor Marty wid a bullet through him, and two through Owen, and the -both of ’em all peppered wid birdshot as well, and the boat ruined -wid bullets? There she lays down to the Booth dock this minute--” - -Hardrock laid a coin on the counter and went out. - -He stood staring down at the line of fish-sheds and wharves across -the road, feeling numb and unable to believe what he had heard. -Dead! Yet he had certainly used no bullets; he had neither rifle nor -pistol. Mechanically he crossed the road and walked through the -soft, deep sand to the fish-company’s wharf. Red-haired Joe Boyle -had just opened up the shed and was getting in some box-parts to -knock together; he flung Hardrock a casual nod as the latter -approached, and went on about his business. - -The boat was not far to seek. She lay on the north side of the dock, -and Hardrock stood gazing down at her. That she was the same which -had run him down, he saw at a glance; not many of these boats were -open craft; nearly all having a boxlike shelter for engines and -lifters and men. - -Across her weathered stern-sheets was a pool of dried, blackened -blood, and the thwart by the engine carried another grim reminder. -Fear clamped upon Hardrock--fear lest he be blamed for this affair. -It seemed only too probable. Whoever had done the murder, too, must -have done it shortly after he himself had peppered the two men with -his shotgun. The swift impulse seized on him to run while he could. - -Instead of running, however, he leaned over and jumped down into the -boat. Up forward was a tangle of ropes and lines and life-belts, and -a colored object there caught his notice. He picked it up. It was a -small pennant-shaped bit of canvas, painted half white, half black, -attached to a stick that had broken short off. Moved by some -instinct, certainly by no obvious reason, he pocketed it and climbed -back to the wharf. - -“Morning,” said a voice, and he looked up to see a gnarled, -red-whiskered man surveying him with an air of appraisal. “Your name -aint Callahan, by any chance?” - -“Callahan it is. Otherwise, Hardrock.” - -“Good. I been lookin’ for ye,” said the other. “I’m Vesty Gallagher, -Danny’s dad. Let’s you and me go somewheres, and go quick. Come on -over to Dunlevy’s shed. Good thing I seen ye, Hardrock--blamed good -thing! Come on.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - -In the heavy, dank quiet of the shed where the big nets hung, -Hardrock sat smoking his pipe. His brain listened mechanically to -the words of Vesty Gallagher; yet other sounds were borne in upon -him; the rattle of ice from the wharf, the slam of fish-boxes tossed -about, the eternal creaking of the great net-frames as they swung -and swung endlessly in the breeze and groaned futile protest. - -“By luck I come to town last night for freight, and remained over,” -said Vesty, “and by luck I seen you this morning and knew ye for a -stranger. I said a word or two last night, when there was talk about -your scrap wi’ Connie Dunlevy, after the two boys was brought in. -Some said you had done it, d’ye see? Nobody knows what’s happened -out there in the fog and rain, but there’s plenty that intend to -know. Eleven families o’ Bassets there are on the island, and Marty -Biddy dead today. Not to mention Owen John, wi’ two bullets through -him and the fever bad on him, and he’ll go over to the Charlevoix -hospital on the mailboat. By luck my boy Danny had been writin’ me, -and I was looking for ye.” - -Hardrock nodded and turned to the gnarled man beside him. - -“It was more than luck that I met you this morning,” he said -quietly. “You don’t know just how bad things look for me. Here’s -what happened.” - -He told what had taken place the preceding day, omitting no detail. -“They were not close enough for the shotgun to do much damage,” he -concluded. “Where those bullets came from, I can’t pretend to -guess.” - -Vesty Gallagher bit his pipestem thoughtfully, watching Hardrock -from screwed-up, sharp little eyes. - -“You’re straight,” he said suddenly. “I’m with ye. So that’s -settled. Now hark ye here, me lad! I’ll have a word wi’ the priest, -and he’ll have a word wi’ the boys, and they’ll go slow. But if I -was you, I’d come down to the sawmill with me and spend a while -there.” - -Hardrock smiled. “Thanks, Vesty, but I can’t do it. Surely there -must be some way of telling who shot those two fellows?” - -“There’s many would ha’ liked to do it,” said old Gallagher. “The -two of them was a bad lot--them and the Dunlevy boys hung together. -Ye’ll have trouble there. Connie Dunlevy and Hughie will guess that -ye had a hand in the shootin’, and they’ll go for ye. Better ye come -down home with me, lad.” - -“Can’t. Promised Matt Callahan I’d come back to Hog Island and -settle matters with him.” The gray eyes of Hardrock twinkled. “I -said I’d put him off my land if he wasn’t reasonable, and I’ll do -it.” - -“Glory be! Have ye been fighting with Matt Big Mary? And I hear -Hughie’s over there--” - -Hardrock related a version of his encounter on the island--a version -which very tactfully omitted any mention of Nelly Callahan. Old -Vesty chuckled and scratched his red whiskers and then chuckled -again. - -“Praise be, it’s fine to hear of some one who’s got the guts to -stand up to them Callahans!” he exclaimed. “Betwixt ’em, the -Callahans and Dunlevys have been runnin’ too high a hand and -drinkin’ too much o’ Jimmy Basset’s moonshine. What came ye to town -for?” - -“To find who it was had run me down, and make ’em pay for my -motorboat,” said Hardrock. “But now I’ll reconsider the program. It -wont do to have everybody know what happened, or I’d be--” - -“You’d be shot so damned quick ye’d never know what struck!” said -Vesty promptly. “Word’s been passed around that you’re a revenuer, -but I’ve put a stop to that. If Owen John does any talkin’ before -they take him to Charlevoix, he’ll be able to tell what happened, -but they say he’s bad off.” - -“I suppose the sheriff will be over to investigate?” - - * * * * * - -Vesty sucked at his pipe a moment. “Maybe,” he said slowly. “And -maybe not. Depends on what story’s told. This here is Beaver Island, -me lad. Them fellys has had scraps with everybody--Injuns, Danes, -Israelites and Washinton Island men. Last week they had a scrap with -some fellys from Cheboygan that was robbin’ some nets. A wild bunch, -them Cheboygan lads, fishin’ on other folks’ ground and runnin’ -whisky in from Canady. What’ll ye do now?” - -“Go back to Hog Island,” said Hardrock. - -“Do it, and if ye have any regard for health, keep the peace with -Matt Big Mary! I’ll walk up the shore with ye--left your canoe on the -north point, ye said? It’ll do ye no harm to be seen walkin’ with -me.” - -They left the shed and swung up to the road, and there Vesty hailed -a man and halted Hardrock to meet him. - -“It’s Tom Boyle Gallagher, me own cousin, and his boys run the -freight-boat and he runs the store yonder. Hey, Tom! Shake hands -with Hardrock Callahan. He’s the felly who had the scrap with Connie -Dunlevy yesterday mornin’. It’s a friend of Danny’s he is, and a -friend of mine, and he’s bought some land on Hog Island from Eddie -John Macaulay.” - -Tom Gallagher grinned as he met Hardrock’s grip. “Glad to meet ye. -Another Callahan, eh? Glory be, but the fightin’ Callahans are all -over the world! I seen ye to the dance the other night. Hear ye -knocked Connie clear off’n the dock, eh? Good for him.” - -“Sorry I had any trouble,” said Hardrock. “I want to spend the -summer up here, and it seems like I got off to a bad start.” - -“More like a good start,” and Tom chuckled. “Drop in to the store -any time. It’s glad to see you I’ll be. See ye later, Vesty!” - -The two men walked up the road together, meeting not a few folk. To -more than one of these Vesty spoke, introducing Hardrock with -emphatic cordiality, stopping now for a word or two and again for a -bit of talk, so that it was a good hour afterward when they -approached the canoe. - -Hardrock, who wanted to pick up a trout or whitefish on the way -back, showed his trolling line to old Vesty, and had a word of -advice as to tackle, and then Vesty gave him a word as to other -things. - -“Lay low, me lad. When news comes, I’ll have Tom Boyle Gallagher’s -boy bring it to ye--Micky, his name is. There’s a few Gallaghers left -on the island yet, praise be, and any friend o’ Danny’s is goin’ to -have a square deal. Be off with ye now, and good luck.” - -Ten minutes later, with the canoe leaning over to the breeze as she -drew out, Hardrock was steering north and exchanging a last wave of -the hand with Vesty Gallagher. Under the latter’s optimistic -influence and quick friendship, his stunned depression had quite -evaporated. He was himself again, no longer hesitant or doubting, -ready for whatever might happen. - -“Blamed lucky thing I met him!” he thought, as he let out his -trolling line and settled down to steer for home. “And I sure hope -that wounded chap will open up and talk before long. Well, by gosh, -I feel a heap better than I did! I think I’ll drop in on Matt’s -camp--ought to get there about noon. Going to marry Hughie Dunlevy, -is she? Not if I know it! Not, that is, unless she wants to, and -I’ll gamble she doesn’t.” - - * * * * * - -With just the right amount of ballast to hold her head down, the -canoe was a marvel for speed, and Hardrock Callahan, who had not -spent all his life in Arizona, knew how to handle her. Thus it was -not quite noon when he bore up for the north point on Hog Island. - -In spite of the big whitefish that came to his line and set his -knife to work and brought the gulls wheeling to pick up the offal, -Hardrock had plenty of time to reflect on his situation. He was not -particularly given to reflection, but just now there was need of it. -One man was dead; another was badly wounded; by good fortune, no one -knew of their encounter with Hardrock Callahan, but that story was -bound to come out. If the wounded man did not recover, and could not -give an account of the killing, investigation would probably fasten -the blame on Hardrock, from circumstantial evidence. So far -suspicion was not directed at him--but it would come. - -“These are slow-thinking people, and the law is probably slower to -reach up here,” he mused. “So much the worse when the time for -action comes! Looks like it’s distinctly up to me to land the -murderers, as a matter of self-protection; and a fat chance I have -of doing it! Since there was no mention of Connie Dunlevy being -taken to the hospital, he’s probably not so badly hurt as I thought. -That gang is against me, sure. Hm! Guess I’ll take counsel with the -young lady. She’s got a level head.” - -He held in for the strip of shore before Matt Big Mary’s camp, and -perceived that the updrawn boat was gone. As his canoe scraped on -the sand and he leaped ashore, Nelly Callahan appeared and waved her -hand. - -“Welcome back! Have you come for more coffee?” - -“That and other things,” responded Hardrock cheerfully, holding up -the whitefish. “Anybody around?” - -“They’ve all gone to finish pulling stakes and wont be back until -late,” said the girl. “Did you have any trouble in town?” - -“No. I met Vesty Gallagher, and we had quite a talk. Got any nails -around here? If you have, let’s get this fish on a slab and we can -discuss the weather while it’s browning.” - -Searching the shore, he presently espied a slab of mill wood, nailed -the opened fish to it, spilled plenty of seasoning over the firm -white flesh, and got the slab in position beside the fire. Then he -sat down and lighted his pipe and looked at Nelly Callahan, who sat -on the end of a log and darned a thick stocking; and presently he -told her all that he had learned this morning in St. James. - - * * * * * - -For a moment her face flashed white, and in the depths of her -widened gaze he read alarm and swift fear and wild surmise. Then she -was herself again, cool and steady, her blue eyes searching into him -with unconcealed tenseness of interest, and only her breath coming a -little swifter to denote the startled heart that was in her. - -“It seems impossible!” she murmured. “Oh! And when everyone learns -of how you used your shotgun on them--” - -“Steady! Nobody knows that except you and Vesty,” said Hardrock. -“Who’d believe me? They’d say I had a pistol or rifle and dropped it -overboard after shooting the two men. And how do you know I hadn’t, -Nelly? How do you know I’m not lying?” - -She looked at him steadily for a moment, meeting his gaze squarely. -Then: - -“How did Vesty know it?” she said, and smiled a little. “Don’t be -silly. Did you see any other boat around, except theirs?” - -Hardrock shook his head. “No, but that means nothing. I couldn’t see -far for the rain, and I was intent on them--they’d been following me, -you know. If there’s any clue to be gained, it’s from you.” - -“From me? How?” - -“The shots. You said you had heard shooting. Now, I let off both -barrels of my shotgun, no more. I did think that I heard shots after -that, but my sinking boat was making such a racket--the exhaust pipe -was smashed when they ran me down--and I was so infernally busy -handling that canoe, that I didn’t notice them. You did. How many -were there? You’d notice the difference between the bang of my -shotgun and the crack of rifles, too.” - -The girl nodded, and lifting her eyes, stared out toward the blue -mass of Garden Island on the horizon. - -“There must have been five or six shots,” she said slowly. “Now I -think of it, I believe that two did come sometime earlier--that was -what drew my attention. Yes, and the others were different. They -sounded more like the deep crash of an automatic pistol than the -sharp crack of a rifle. But how can that help you? I couldn’t see -what happened. I can’t swear--” - -“You’re not expected to!” Hardrock responded, and felt through his -pockets for a match. “The thing is, to make sure of what you heard. -Somebody else was out there--a third boat--” - -He broke off sharply. From his pocket he drew a strange object; then -recognition came into his eyes as he stared at it. It was the -pennant-shaped canvas he had taken from the boat at the Booth dock. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - -“That’s funny!” he exclaimed, staring at the scrap of canvas. The -girl glanced at it, then gave him a puzzled look. - -“Why?” - -“You know what it is?” - -“Of course. It’s the little flag left flying from a fish-trap to -show its position.” - -“Oh!” Hardrock laughed and tossed it aside. “I don’t know what made -me bring it--found it lying in that boat this morning, with a lot of -other stuff.” - -To his surprise, the girl’s eyes dilated suddenly, excitement leaped -into her face. - -“What boat?” she demanded. “Not--” “Yes, the one that ran me down. -Why?” Dropping her work, Nelly Callahan pounced on the bit of -canvas, and lifted blazing eyes. - -“Don’t you see! It explains everything! Can’t you remember seeing -that flag in the water just before they ran you down?” - -Hardrock stared at her, his gray eyes narrowed and glittering. - -“Hm! Blamed if I can see why it amounts to much--come to think of it, -I believe I did notice such a flag. Ran close to it. Not the same -one, probably.” - -“Of course it was the same one!” exclaimed the girl, excitedly. She -was all animation. “Don’t you see? This flag is painted to denote -ownership, so each man will know his own traps! We don’t use them -much around here--don’t need to. But the perch season is coming on, -and fishermen from Charlevoix and Petoskey and even Cheboygan who -work around here need to use marked traps. Now do you see? Hughie -Dunlevy and his friends have been fighting the men from outside who -come in on their grounds. Well, Marty Biddy Basset and Owen John, as -soon as they ran you down, circled back to that fish-trap and -probably started to rob it. They broke off this flag so the owners -wouldn’t find the trap again, and--” - -Hardrock whistled. “And then the owners came along and opened fire! -Upon my word, Nelly, I believe you’ve struck it! And nobody noticed -this flag lying in the boat last night--” - -They stared at each other, until suddenly the girl broke into a -tremulous laugh. - -“So all you have to do is to find who uses this flag!” - -“Who does, then?” - -“I don’t know. Any of the men would know, probably.” - -“Hm! Vesty said that Hughie and his friends had fought last with -some Cheboygan men. He mentioned whisky-running--” - -“Yes!” The girl flashed up indignantly. - -“And you know what they say about us over on the mainland--that -everybody on the Beavers runs whisky from Canada! It’s not so. None -of us do that. Jimmy Basset, who’s here with Father, makes -whisky--that’s true; but most of the time he’s so crippled up with -rheumatism that he can’t fish and do any work, and it’s the only way -he has of supporting his family. So nobody else on Beaver makes -whisky, and nobody runs it from Canada--it’s those Cheboygan men who -run it! And they hide up on one of the islands here until they can -sneak it in to Ed Julot over at Harbor Springs for the summer -resorters to buy--and then everybody blames the Beaver men! Look -after that fish, or it’ll burn--quick, it’s in the fire! I’ll get the -coffee and bread.” - -The girl was up and gone for her supplies. - - * * * * * - -Hardrock rescued the planked whitefish from the encroaching blaze, -smiling to himself as he did so, over the utterance of the indignant -Nelly. He could appreciate her point of view and could even -sympathize with it. There was something whimsically just about one -half-crippled man being allowed a monopoly on moonshine liquor, by -common consent, for his support. - -“Thank heaven I’m no prohibition-enforcer!” reflected Hardrock. “I -expect she’s hit it right, however, as regards the runners who -supply the resort towns from Mackinac to Traverse with booze. These -islands are ideally located for their purpose, and the pretense of -being honest fishermen--hm! By hemlock, I’ve got the answer to the -whole thing! But not a word of it to her. No wonder those fellows -opened fire, and shot to kill, when they saw their fish-trap being -robbed! But I’d better go mighty slow until I’m sure. There’s -nothing on which to hang any legal peg, so far.” - -Even though the girl’s theory was right, even though he found the -men who used this black-and-white flag, any accumulation of legal -evidence as to the shooting was distinctly improbable. Hardrock -recognized this clearly. At the same time, he felt confident that he -had hit upon one solution of the whole enigma--a solution which -promised to be highly interesting, even more so than writing a -textbook for mining engineers. - -Planked whitefish, fresh from the lake, and coffee, and thick bread; -and over the bread, the rich juice of the eternal mulligan, made -this time from the white small-mouth bass that swam around the wreck -down the shore. Thus the two dined together, not gracefully but -well, and by tacit consent avoided the matter of their early talk. -Instead, Hardrock spoke of Danny Gallagher and Arizona, and the -mines, and gradually fell silent and brought the girl to speak of -herself and her life down State, where she had these two years -taught school, and the world outside this narrow horizon of the -Beavers. Two on an island together--and time was not. - -“I stayed in St. James the other night for the dance,” said -Hardrock, filling his pipe for the third time, “hoping you were -there. I knew you down in Arizona, you see.” - -“In Arizona?” Her level blue eyes searched his face, perplexed. - -“Sure. Danny Gallagher had some pictures that were sent him. One was -of you, standing on a wharf--” - -“Oh!” exclaimed the girl. “Why, Hughie took that last summer--” - -“You haven’t changed. How’d you like to see Arizona?” - -She looked at him, met his gravely steady gaze--then sprang suddenly -to her feet and stood looking out at the point. Hardrock caught the -deliberate thud-thud of an exhaust, then saw the big launch turning -the point. He rose. - -“Father’s not in her--yes, he’s lying in the bow!” she exclaimed. -Hughie Dunlevy, at the tiller of the launch, waved his hand to her -and lifted his strong voice as the launch rounded in toward the -sandy stretch. - -“Come aboard, Nelly! Get anything you want to bring--come quick! Your -dad’s hurt.” - -The launch sputtered; her engine died; and she came to a halt with -her nose on the sand a dozen feet from shore. The girl made a -hesitant movement; then Hardrock caught her up in his arms and waded -out to the launch. Dunlevy and the two other men took her from him. -In the bow lay Matt Big Mary, eyes closed. - -“Badly hurt?” asked Hardrock, as his eyes met the hard gaze of -Hughie Dunlevy. - -“No. Knee dislocated, I guess; we’ll run him home. Got caught in a -line and fell over the engine. You been to St. James already?” - -“Yes.” Hardrock’s gray eyes narrowed. “You’ll find news waiting for -you. Two of your friends shot up--one dead. Whisky-runners did it, -some one said; nobody knows for sure, though.” - -Dunlevy looked startled, then waved his hand. - -“All right. You been havin’ a good time here, I see. So long. When I -come back, you’ll be singin’ another tune.” - -“I’ll expect you,” said Hardrock, and smiled. - -The engine sputtered into life; the launch was shoved out, circled -in a wide arc, and headed south, with Nelly Callahan crouched over -the figure of her father. Once she looked back, lifted an arm, waved -it in farewell to the man on the shore, as though in token of an -unquenched spirit. - -“She’s all right,” said Hardrock to himself. “Independent--not afraid -of ’em. No need to worry about her; real woman all through!” - -He turned to the deserted camp, got the dishes attended to, left -everything shipshape, kicked out the fire-embers, and then made his -way through the brush along the point of land at this northwest tip -of the island. Here, where the bushes thinned out and the land ran -out in little islets, he sank down under cover of the greenery, -filled and lighted his pipe, and lay motionless, watching the empty -waters to north and west and south. Safely tucked away in his pocket -was the little black-and-white pennant of painted canvas. - - * * * * * - -Now, as he watched the sun glinting on the waves between the point -and Garden Island, where his motorboat had gone down, he -reconstructed in the light of his present knowledge what had taken -place there yesterday morning. He was quite certain, now, that he -recalled seeing that little pennant of canvas sticking out from the -water. Those two recklessly pursuing men from St. James must have -seen it also, as they drove down upon him. Then, when he had -vanished in the rain to leeward, when after his two shots they -probably thought him dead or drowning, they had put back for that -fish-trap flag. Why? Not because it marked a fish-trap alone, but -because it marked something else of which they knew. And, drawing -down upon that little flag, had been a third craft, unsuspected in -the obscurity. - -“They broke off the flag, were probably fishing up the trap, when -the other chaps appeared and opened fire. Then what? The chances are -a thousand to one that the murderers didn’t wait to get what they -had come for. One doesn’t shoot down a couple of men and then stick -around long. Besides, the flag was gone, and there were heavy -rollers running, and the sheets of rain obscured everything. They -couldn’t hope to find the trap again in all that muck; they’d have -to go away and come back in good weather, when they might locate the -spot by means of landmarks and bearings from shore. Therefore, if my -theory is correct, if they’re really whisky-runners and that little -flag marked a stock of whisky as well as a fish-trap--all I have to -do is to wait. No boat has been up this way all morning. Either I’d -have seen it, or Nelly would have seen it and remembered about it.” - -Conviction grew upon him that he had the right steer by the tail. -Fishermen would not be apt to open deadly fire, even if they caught -other men robbing their traps; but liquor-runners take no chances. -Again he was impressed with the absolutely ideal situation of the -islands--many, like that on which he now lay, uninhabited. East-coast -fishermen could bring in the stuff from the Canadian side and plant -it, and go away again. Other fishermen from the adjacent mainland, -from the upper peninsula, from the Wisconsin shore, could come and -get it. Who would suspect? And if anyone did suspect, as Nelly -Callahan had said, the island men would get the blame. The Beavers -had a reputation for turbulency which was less justified than forced -upon them. - -The afternoon hours waned, and the sun sank, and nothing happened. -Nothing broke the horizon save the big green-and-white fishboat -belonging to the three Danes, coming in from the north and heading -for the settlement on Garden Island, with a swarm of gulls wheeling -and trailing behind her to tell of fish being gutted and nets being -washed. She vanished, and Hardrock rose stiffly, went to his canoe, -shoved out and paddled around the point. - -He sought his own camp and found it undisturbed. As he rolled up in -his blankets that evening, it came to him that he had not yet -settled matters with Matt Big Mary. - -“Good thing!” he murmured. “But I wonder--was he worse hurt than they -said? That yarn didn’t sound very plausible about his falling over -the engine--hm! Should have thought of that before. I don’t like that -fellow Hughie Dunlevy. No matter. Tomorrow’s Sunday, and I’ll keep -quiet--and watch. Good night, Nelly Callahan, and pleasant dreams!” - -He fell asleep, smiling. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - -Sunday on Beaver Island was theoretically a day of devotion. Not -even the mailboat came over from Charlevoix, since there were no -fish-boxes to be transported. It was a day for visiting, for going -to the church down the highway three miles from St. James, for -eating and drinking and talking. The only man on the island who went -his way regardless was old Cap’n Fallows, who was a socialist and -proud of it; but as the old skipper had been here thirty years and -was by this time related to everyone else, he was regarded with -unusual tolerance--a shining bad example of a godless old man, happy -in his iniquity and glorying in his lonesome politics. Also, the -Cap’n was something of a doctor, after a fashion. - -He was in demand this Sunday. Marty Biddy Basset was dead and buried -that day, and Owen John had gone to Charlevoix on the mailboat, -talking in his fever but talking no sense; but down the island by -the old Russian baron’s farm lay Matt Big Mary Callahan, with a hurt -leg and a hurt head. Matt had been struck by a big pile and had -fallen over the engine of the boat, and would not walk again for two -days, so he had gone home to the farm and Cap’n Fallows was -doctoring him with liniment and talk on the rights of man. - -There was much to talk about, and there was a gathering at the store -all day long, while out at Jimmy Basset’s farm the keg of white -liquor grew lower every hour. The Bassets and Dunlevys were taking -counsel here and there, the older heads advising patience, the -younger heads listening to Hughie Dunlevy and his brother Connie, -who was badly bruised but not seriously hurt. Connie was two years -younger than Hughie, and if not so strong, was just about as hard to -kill. - -It was true enough that Vesty Gallagher spoke a word to the priest; -and the priest, who was the only man obeyed by other men on Beaver -Island, passed along the word. Thus it came about that Hardrock -Callahan was accepted as neither a revenue man nor an enemy, and his -affair with the Dunlevy brothers was taken for what it was--a private -matter. Hughie Dunlevy heard of this, and moved cautiously and spoke -softly; but with his brother Connie and four other lads he was -neither cautious nor soft. He and they gathered in Jimmy Basset’s -kitchen that evening and went into the affair at length. - -Among the six of them it was not hard to guess close to the truth. -Connie Dunlevy knew that Marty Biddy and Owen John had gone out in -the launch to catch Hardrock; nobody else knew this, but he knew it, -for he had sent them. And he knew that they, like himself, had been -up and raising deviltry all that Thursday night, and like himself -had been in liquor. - -“They had no guns,” he swore solemnly to Hughie and the other four. -“What would they be havin’ guns for, now? It was this felly Hardrock -that had a shotgun anyhow, and likely carried a pistol.” - -“He told me,” said Hughie, stirring his hot one, “that it was -whisky-runners had shot up the lads.” - -“How’d he know that?” demanded Jimmy Basset. “If they sunk his boat -and he shot ’em, it’s hangin’ he needs. He told ye the tale of -whisky-runners, Hughie, for a blind.” - -“Most like he did,” agreed Hughie. “We’ll have no outlanders comin’ -in here and murderin’ poor helpless lads like them! What story was -told on the mainland about it?” - -A cousin of the dead man spoke up, his face black and gloomy. - -“It was told they had put a box of cartridges into the stove by -mistake. Irene Dunlevy is a nurse in the hospital yonder, and Owen -John’s father did go over wid him, so there’d be no chance of Owen’s -talkin’ to outside ears.” - -“Then the matter’s up to us to settle?” - -“It is that. There’ll be no officers pokin’ their heads into the -island.” - -Hughie sipped his hot one reflectively. They looked to him for -leadership, and he was not backward in accepting the guidon; at the -same time, he was not going to rush headlong into trouble. There had -been altogether too much trouble of late, and any rash actions that -would compel the law to make an investigation would make everybody -on the islands irritated with Hughie Dunlevy. - -“We’ll ’tend to him,” said Hughie. “We’ll give him a dose that’ll -send him away where he come from. I got a little score of my own to -be settlin’ wid him.” - -“So I hear,” said one, and there was a snicker. “What’d he hit ye -wid, Hughie?” - -“Blessed if I know, but he’ll not do it again! You felleys go easy -wid your talk, now. We got other things to mind besides him. I’m -goin’ to cut loose every fish-trap up and down the shores that aint -ours, and if we meet them Cheboygan or Manistique lads, we’ll make -’em like it.” - -“That’s the stuff, Hughie!” came the chorus of affirmation. - -Now Jimmy Basset spoke up, as he limped over to the stove and -refilled the kettle. - -“After church this mornin’ I was talkin’ a bit wid Matz Larsen. Ye -know that little point where his wharf and fish-sheds are, on the -Garden Island shore up beyond his place? He was tellin’ me that on -Thursday mornin’ at the break o’ the storm, him and his boys were -mendin’ nets when they seen a strange boat off the island, cruisin’ -about.” - -“Eh?” Hughie’s eyes narrowed. “What sort o’ boat was it?” - -“Green wid a red stripe around the house. A stranger. Up from -Ludington, maybe, or one o’ them ports. It was no Cheboygan boat; -that’s certain.” - -“Well,”--and Hughie stood up,--“it’s time I was off, for I’ve a date. -We’ll go over to Hog Island tomorry night and attend to the lad from -Arizona. We’ll take my big open boat that the resorters use for -fishin’-parties. Jimmy, fetch a quart along to cheer us up. I’ll -have the boat ready as soon as it’s dark.” - -“Then put lights aboard her,” said Connie Dunlevy, “for the -coast-guard has been raisin’ hell wid the lads for carryin’ no -lights.” - -Hughie laughed at that, and swung away. It was little he cared for -the coast-guard. - - * * * * * - -So, with all this keeping the island busy, and no boats putting out -that Sunday, and the wind in the east so the tourists could make up -no fishing-parties, there was none to notice the small launch that -came drifting up the channel toward sunset, past the length of the -island, with a man standing in her and waving his shirt as a signal -for help. The coast-guard might have seen her, but it was dark -before she came within sight of the point, and then the channel -current carried her out and on past Pismire Island. So she went on -drifting up between Garden and Hog, and no lights on her, and not a -soul knew of her being around. It was well they did not, for if they -had seen her and had seen the man who was aboard her, there would -have been some tall talk. - -It was Hardrock Callahan who heard the man yell. Hardrock had been -down the island shore in his canoe that afternoon, having grown -tired of waiting for boats that did not come, and had been pulling -bass from around the wreck in Belmore Bay. He kept nothing under -three pounds, and he had sixteen on his string when night came, and -stayed to make it twenty. He was paddling up for the end of the -island in the darkness when he heard a long shout and then another -one coming from the water, and started out to see who was there. -When he sang out and got answered, he paddled up toward the launch. - -“Engine’s broke down and my gas has leaked out,” called the man in -the launch. “I left Charlevoix this morning and have been drifting -up the channel all afternoon. Can you give me a lift?” - -“You bet,” said Hardrock, coming alongside. “No oars aboard?” - -“Nary a sign. What you got there, a canoe? You can’t pull the launch -with that.” - -“You climb aboard and take my other paddle,” said Hardrock, “and -save your breath to work with. Got any grub? No? Then we’ll get -around to my camp and fry some of these bass, and in about an hour -you wont give a cuss whether you get home tonight or not.” - -The other laughed, transferred skillfully to the canoe, and after -making fast a line to the launch, they set out. Neither man spoke as -they slowly worked the dragging launch ahead, got her around the -point, and then down the north shore to Hardrock’s camp. - -“Here we are,” said Hardrock as he headed in. “You might get some of -those bass cleaned while I get the fire started and the skillet hot. -Coffee, too. We can attend to your launch afterward. Better pull her -up out of sight.” - -“Why?” queried the other man. - -“Tell you later.” - - * * * * * - -The two men observed a mutual reticence until, half an hour -afterward, they were sitting down to their meal. Then the stranger, -who was a grizzled, roughly dressed man with a pair of keen eyes -above a draggled mustache, grinned across the fire and put out his -hand. - -“My name’s Fulsom, and I sure owe you a heap o’ thanks.” - -“Callahan’s mine--Hardrock Callahan.” - -As they gripped, Hardrock noticed that Fulsom looked startled, but -no comment was exchanged. Both men were too hungry to indulge in -needless talk. Not until the last scrap of bass was cleaned up and -the coffee-pot was empty, and pipes were lighted, did Hardrock learn -who his visitor was. Then Fulsom, puffing soberly, eyed him for a -moment and spoke. - -“Hardrock, I’m mighty sorry ’bout all this. Looks to me like luck -was playing hard for both of us. You don’t know what I come over -here for?” - -“I’m not a mind-reader,” Hardrock chuckled. Fulsom threw back his -vest to show a badge pinned to his shirt. - -“I’m the Sheriff o’ this county, and the main reason I come over -here today was to sort of pry around a bit. You aint an island man--I -know ’em all. I’ve knowed ’em for twenty year more or less. Reckon -you’ve heard of the killing the other day?” - -Hardrock nodded reflectively. He liked this sheriff--read the man for -straight and square and unafraid. None the less, in the keen probing -of those eyes he read danger. - -“Yes. Heard about it yesterday in St. James.” - - * * * * * - -Fulsom puffed, spat into the fire, and asked a question. - -“Know anything about it?” - -Despite the careless tone, despite the offhand manner of the -speaker, Hardrock sensed something beneath the surface. He was -astonished by the manner in which he had met Fulsom; yet he was not -astonished that the sheriff had appeared. Fiction to the contrary, -every abnormal detail of life in civilized communities involves a -consequence; for what we call civilization is simply the ways of men -set in a groove, and any departure from that groove brings -investigation. - -With this intangible flash of mind to mind, with this singular -“feel” that something unsaid lay behind that question, Hardrock -considered briefly and then answered it in utmost frankness. - -“Sheriff, if I told you all I knew or thought about it, the chances -are that you’d arrest me.” - -Fulsom gave him a glance, and grinned. - -“I’d have a hell of a job doin’ it, wouldn’t I--not to mention -gettin’ you off to jail?” - -Hardrock broke into a laugh. “Good for you! Here’s what I know.” - -And he told what had happened to him since arriving on Beaver -Island. - - * * * * * - -Sheriff Fulsom listened to the story without a word, puffing as -methodically after his pipe had smoked out as before; he sat like an -image of bronze, giving no sign of what was passing in his mind. -With such a man Hardrock was at his ease, for he knew now that he -might expect some measure of justice, and not hasty jumping at -conclusions for the sake of political prestige. - -“You got your nerve to tell me all this,” said Fulsom, when he had -finished. - -Hardrock knocked out his pipe and filled it anew. “No witnesses -present. Besides, I figure you as square.” - -“That’s the hell of it--I got to be square all around. You’re under -arrest for that shootin’, Hardrock Callahan.” - -“Eh?” Hardrock stared, for the Sheriff had not moved an inch. -“You’re in earnest?” - -“Yep, so far as it goes.” Fulsom wiped his mustache and chuckled. -“Got to do it. I been nosing around the hospital, and heard that -wounded man talkin’ in his fever. Mentioned your name. Now, I’m -right well acquainted with the Beavers--too durned well acquainted to -come over here on business without a posse, unless I come alone. -These lads over here may have their faults, but they’re men clear -through. If I come over alone, I get a square deal. If I come with a -posse, I’m liable to get most anything. Well, now, I come over to -look you up and see what I could learn. And, from hearin’ your -story, looks like it’s my duty to arrest you. Any law officer would -have to do it on the evidence.” - -“All right,” said Hardrock whimsically. “Then what? You can’t prove -my story.” - -“Nope. All I figure on is doin’ my duty and breakin’ square with all -concerned. Now, you’re arrested, and charged with murder. You’re in -my custody. You and me understand each other, I guess. I don’t -believe for a minute that things aint exactly as you’ve told ’em to -me, and I figure to stay right here a spell and help you work ’em -out. Let’s see that there fish-flag.” - -Hardrock dived into the tent and looked up the bit of canvas. In his -heart he felt a queer sense of relief, a dropping away of all -oppression. This officer was not to be feared. He was under arrest, -and if nothing turned up, he would have to stand trial, and the -evidence was bound to be bad--yet Fulsom was square, and this counted -for everything. - -“I’m mighty glad we met up,” he said as he came back to the fire. -“And I reckon we do understand each other, Sheriff. Here’s the flag. -Know it?” - -The Sheriff gave it a glance, then laid it down. - -“Yep. Belongs to Johnson Brothers of Ludington. But they aint fished -up around these parts--aint fished at all since last year. Sold out, -lock stock an’ barrel, to some fellows from Escanaba, I heard, who -were carrying on the business. Now, either those fellows are running -nets up this way, which I don’t hardly think is so, or else it’s -like you say--they’re running something else for bigger money. S’pose -you and me go out early in your canoe and look for that fish-trap. -Eh?” - -“You’re on,” said Hardrock cheerfully. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - -The boats went out Monday morning, went out early. They went out -from the St. James harbor and from the scattered holdings on the -other islands, boats of Indians and white men, out to the fishing -grounds where lacy gill-nets and hidden trap-nets and long bloater -lines and other legal and illegal methods of obtaining the finny -prey were put into effect. Boats bobbed here and there against the -horizon of island or sea or reef, and engines whirred as the lifters -brought the nets aboard, while trout and whitefish and perch went -tumbling down into the tubs. There was heavy work to be done, since -the fish must be all cleaned and boxed and in to St. James to make -that afternoon’s mailboat. - -All that morning Hardrock’s canoe bobbed here and there off the end -of Hog Island, with a drag out from bow and stem, countering back -and forth. It was too shallow hereabout for the big fish, and the -waters looked all deserted, with only a sparkling flash of gulls off -the blue line that marked the north end of Garden to show that a -boat was working there beneath the horizon. - -Back and forth they went, and found nothing, though they searched -hard enough for any sign of the black ropes that might mark a trap. -Nothing came near them on the water, excepting a covey of young -ducks that bore down and then wheeled and went flashing away through -the waves in a hurry. With noon, they returned to camp, where the -Sheriff’s launch was drawn safely out of sight among the bushes down -the shore, and lunched leisurely, and then returned again to the -search. - -It was nearly three o’clock when at last they found the trap, and -then only by accident, for one of the drags picked up the mooring -line, and Hardrock hauled the canoe along this until the dim mass of -the trap itself was under the canoe. Fulsom came to his assistance, -since it was no light task to haul in the heavy lines without -tipping the canoe, and together they got it to the surface. They -could see perch in it, and big Bullheads from the mud bottom, and -one lordly yellow sunfish, but no whisky. - -“Hold on!” exclaimed Fulsom, who knew more about traps than did -Hardrock. “Hold her till I get a grip on that mooringline! Now let -go, and catch hold.” - -Now they tugged at the line, and bit by bit worked loose the anchor -down below, and after a time got it on the up-heave. Hardrock was -leaning far over on the line, depending on Sheriff Fulsom to balance -the canoe, and giving his entire attention to the rope below him. -This came heaving up soggily from the depths, and presently -disclosed another line knotted around it and hanging straight down. - -“Thought so!” came the exultant voice of Fulsom. “Haul in on the -short line, now--” - - * * * * * - -In another moment the end of this came into sight, and showed a -firmly lashed case of liquor. Hardrock glanced up over his shoulder. - -“Want it aboard?” - -“If we can get it, yes. No telling how many more cases there are, -but we’ll have to leave ’em for the present. We’ll see what this -is--make sure of it. Looks to me like you needn’t worry about that -murder charge any more. Better move lively, too. Looks like a boat -is heading this way from Beaver. Left my binoculars in camp, so I -can’t tell much.” - -Hardrock could not pause to look--he got the box in under the canoe, -then came the ticklish matter of swinging it aboard. This was -finally accomplished, though at imminent danger of capsizing the -frail craft; then he straightened up for a look at the approaching -boat. It was still half a mile distant, and bearing up between the -islands as though heading for them. - -“Better get in to shore,” said Fulsom. “I aint anxious to be -recognized around here until it’s necessary, the way things are now. -Looks like we got some Canadian Club here, all right--we’ll open her -up and make sure. Set that extry paddle in the trap to mark her -before we go.” - -Hardrock nodded and made fast the paddle so that it floated on the -line from which the whisky-case had been cut, then he headed the -canoe for the point and pushed her hard. Whether that boat was -heading for them or not, he meant to take no chances. - -In ten minutes he was cutting through the shallows inside the point -and was out of sight of the boat. When they came to camp, they -speedily lifted the canoe ashore and in among the trees. Then -Fulsom, obtaining Hardrock Callahan’s woods hatchet, began to pry at -the lid of the whisky-case. - -“Aren’t you tampering with evidence?” said Hardrock, chuckling. - -“Who, me? I aint no prohibition officer,” returned the Sheriff -dryly. “No sir, I never voted for no prohibition, but I aim to do my -duty. First thing is to find out if this stuff is whisky or not. -Can’t tell by the box, can’t tell by the label--” - -“The only way is to taste it, eh?” laughed Hardrock. “All right, I’m -with you, and will give expert testimony. Go to it! We can’t afford -to make any mistakes; that’s sure.” - -The case opened, Fulsom produced a bottle, unhurt by its immersion, -and attacked the cork. When this was out, he handed the bottle to -his nominal prisoner. - -“Let’s have your verdict, Hardrock!” - -The latter tasted the contents, and grimaced. “It’s the stuff,” he -returned, handing back the bottle. The Sheriff promptly tilted it, -and held it tilted until his breath was gone. Then, gasping, he -lowered it, and replaced the cork. - -“Gosh, that’s good!” he observed. “Wisht I could keep the whole -bottle.” - -“Go ahead.” - -“Nope.” He slid it back into the case. “I could sort of ease my -conscience by havin’ an excuse for one drink to make certain what -the stuff was. And I sure made that drink a good one! But any more’d -be stealin’ evidence, which I don’t aim to do. S’pose you slip out -to the shore and keep an eye on that there boat. Maybe she’s the one -we’re lookin’ for. I’ll lay up out o’ sight till I see who it is.” - - * * * * * - -Smiling to himself at the odd conceit of the Sheriff, whose -regretful devotion to duty was indubitably sincere, Hardrock left -the cover of the trees and returned to his clearing. He was just in -time to see the launch which they had observed come circling around -the point and head in. To his astonishment, he saw the figure of -Nelly Callahan standing in the bow, while another figure aft was -tending the engine. - -The girl waved to him eagerly, while her companion, a young fellow -no more than a boy, shut off the engine and let the boat run in -until her nose touched the sand. By the flush of excitement in the -girl’s face, Hardrock guessed that she carried news of some kind. -She jumped ashore, then turned and waved her hand at the boy. - -“Hardrock, this is Tom Boyle Gallagher’s boy Micky--Vesty Gallagher -was sending him over to find you, so I came along to bring the -message myself. I knew more about it than Vesty did, anyway, because -I heard Hughie Dunlevy talking to Father last night--” - -“All right,” cut in Hardrock. “Wait just a minute, will you? Come -ashore, Micky. Got any gasoline aboard?” - -“Ten gallon in the tank still,” said the boy, grinning. - -“Know anything about engines?” - -“He knows all about ’em,” broke in the girl. “Why?” - -“I have a launch down the shore that I’d like to have him look over. -She’s down by that clump of sumach, Micky, drawn up. See if you can -find the trouble, will you? We may have to put her into the water.” - -“Sure,” and Micky started off. Hardrock turned to the girl, smiling. - -“Excuse me for the interruption, but I had a bit of news too, and -didn’t want him to overhear. Now come and sit down and tell me -what’s on your mind.” - -They sat down together on a fallen log at the edge of the clearing, -and Hardrock got his pipe alight. - -“Two things,” said the girl, “or maybe three,” and she laughed. -“First, Hughie and some of his friends are coming over here tonight. -I heard him tell Father they meant to drive you away, and send you -back to Arizona.” - -Hardrock, thinking of the Sheriff among the trees, broke into a -hearty laugh. - -“Go on,” he said after a minute. “Go on! What next?” - -“Isn’t that enough? Vesty got wind of it, and sent Micky off to warn -you. There’s no telling what they’ll do, really--and it’s nothing to -laugh about!” - -“It will be, I promise you,” and Hardrock chuckled. “Not for them to -laugh about, though. Don’t mention it to anyone, for he doesn’t want -it known--but Sheriff Fulsom is over there in the trees now. It’s his -launch that is down the shore. I picked him up last night--he was -drifting up the channel, disabled and out of gas. He and I are -working on this business, and we’ve already proved my ideas right by -finding that fish-trap and a case of whisky with it. There are other -cases at the same spot, probably.” - -She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Oh, good!” she exclaimed. - -“And I don’t forget that I owe the tip to you, either,” he went on. -“Well, what next?” - -“Hughie thinks that you did the shooting, but he isn’t sure. He told -Father that a strange launch had been seen around here--a green boat -with a red stripe running around the house. A fishboat. I thought -right away that it might be the one--” - -“Good for you, Nelly Callahan! I’ll bet a dollar she’s the one we’re -looking for. Any further news from the chap who went over to the -hospital?” - -“He’s still between life and death, they said.” - -“Looks bad. Well, what else is on your mind?” - -She looked down at the sand, stirred a branch of ground-cedar with -her foot, colored faintly. Then her eyes, direct and searching, -lifted suddenly to meet his gaze. - -“Nothing.” - -Hardrock frowned. “Something you don’t want to tell me, you mean?” - -“Yes. Please don’t ask.” - - * * * * * - -For a moment Hardrock looked into the troubled depths of her eyes, -and the answer came to him. He remembered his talk with her father; -he could make a shrewd guess at about what that sort of a man would -do and say to the girl. - -“All right, I wont,” he said abruptly. “You remember what we were -talking about when the boat came along and you had to jump in and -go? About Arizona, and you, and Danny’s picture of you. That’s why I -came up here to the Beavers, Nelly. Now let’s not have any -discussion of the question. I don’t want to know what your father -said, or how he may have reported what I said to him. The facts are -that I came here because I had seen your picture, and now that I’ve -met you, I’m going to stay here for a while. I told your father so, -and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Here’s Micky coming back, so -let’s drop the subject until a better time. I’ll be taking you to -the dance Thursday night, as the boys say. What’s the good word, -Micky?” - -The grease-smeared lad grinned widely. - -“Ye can’t run an engine without a spark, can ye? Sure, she’s all -right--I’ve got some extry batteries here and can fix her up in no -time.” - -“But that wont fix the leaky gas tank.” Hardrock looked at the boy’s -boat--an open launch of no great size. “See here, Micky! Could you -run off some gas into that big tin can aboard your boat, and siphon -that into the carburetor, and run my launch into the harbor? If you -can, there’s a ten-dollar bill for you. Leave your boat here and -I’ll rent it until you can get my tank soldered up.” - -“You bet!” exclaimed the youth eagerly. “Half an hour and I’ll have -her in shape. You going back with me, Nelly?” - -“Yes, and hurry up,” said the girl. “We don’t want to be out all day -and night.” - -Between them, Hardrock and Micky got the Sheriff’s launch back into -the water, and the boy fell to work. There was no occasion to -construct a siphoning arrangement, for he discovered that the leak -lay in the piping connections, and stopped it temporarily with some -soap. When he had run five gallons of gasoline into the tank and -turned over the engine, it functioned perfectly. - -“Hop in, Nelly!” he sang out. “We’ll get back ’fore dark.” - -“Thank you for coming over, dear girl,” said Hardrock, as he gave -Nelly a hand and helped her into the boat. “If I don’t come around -before then, I’ll see you Thursday night. Good-by, and good luck!” - -“Good-by,” she answered quietly. Then, as the boat circled out from -shore, he saw her turn a laughing face, and lift her fingers to her -lips, blowing him a kiss. For a moment he stood astounded, then a -laugh broke from him, and a long shout. - -“I may not wait until Thursday--after that!” he called, and she waved -her hand in farewell. Then the launch was drawing around for the -point, and passed from sight. - -Sheriff Fulsom appeared from the bushes, and he regarded Hardrock -with twinkling eyes. - -“Gosh, ye look right happy over something!” he commented dryly. -“Say, this was a good job ye done, too--got us a launch all -shipshape! They’ll recognize my launch over to St. James, but no -matter. Nobody’ll see it until tomorrow anyhow.” - -“You heard what she told me?” demanded Hardrock. The Sheriff nodded. - -“Yep. I don’t know that boat, but no matter. She’s our meat, I -reckon, if she’ll only come and pick up that shipment o’ case goods! -But what about them fellows coming over here tonight?” His shrewd -gaze inspected Hardrock gayly. “Looks to me like you and Dunlevy are -bound to fight it out, young fellow!” - -Hardrock chuckled. “We should worry about what happens tonight. I’m -your prisoner and if you don’t protect me-- Hello! Sheriff, where are -your binoculars? Get ’em!” - -“Gone with my launch, durn you! Why? What you lookin’ at?” - -Hardrock, who was staring out to the northeast, drew back from the -shore. - -“Looks to me like our boat--see her? Green, sure enough; can’t tell -about the red stripe. Get back out of sight, Fulsom. Here--help run -this launch up a little first! Move sharp. They mustn’t suspect -anyone is here. Can you make her out?” - -“Yep. That’s her,” affirmed Fulsom confidently. “Go get your -shotgun, Hardrock.” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - -The round ball of the sun was hanging low above the purple line of -Garden Island in the west, and the breeze was down until there was -hardly a ripple on the water. From cover of bushes along the point, -Hardrock and Fulsom watched that green fishboat, a red stripe -running broadly around her, spin past the point and round it, and -head for the floating paddle that marked the whisky-cache. - -“She’s fast,” said the Sheriff appraisingly. “Built for the work. -She came up from the south, all right, followed the channel through -past Gray’s Reef as though going to the straits, then cut straight -west and headed here. She wasn’t taking any chances by coming up -past Beaver.” - -“What’s your program?” demanded Hardrock. - -“Get out in that launch, and get quick. You got your shotgun, I’ve -got my pistol. She’ll let us come alongside, and we’ll grab her, -that’s all. No time to waste. You’re my deputy--swear!” - -“I swear,” said Hardrock, and laughed. “Making a prisoner into a -deputy--” - -“Oh hell, shove along! We got to move fast. I aim to catch her with -the goods.” - -They hurried back along the shore and ran out the open launch. -Fulsom gave his automatic pistol to Hardrock, took the shotgun, and -scrambled into the bow. - -“You ’tend the engine. We’ll get ’em back here and put ’em through -the third degree separate. Don’t say a word about the murder. Leave -me to handle it.” - -“With pleasure.” - - * * * * * - -The engine spat and coughed and puffed, and presently they were -slipping out past the long point. The green fishboat had halted at -the fish-trap. She was a boat of fair size, housed over except for -foredeck, after-deck, and a narrow strip along the sides. The after -end of this house was wide open. Forward on each side were wide -openings where the lifter brought in nets and fish. - -Just now, however, two men were at work forward in the bow, hauling -in better prey than fish. Several cases were piled up, and they were -getting another case aboard. A third man appeared in the stern, -stared at the launch, and called to his companions. All three -turned, watching her. - -Hardrock headed as though to bear up past them for Beaver Island and -waved his hand, to which they made no response. The man from aft had -ducked out of sight, reappearing on the foredeck with the others. As -Fulsom was apparently at work on something and not interested, the -whisky-runners evinced no alarm. Then, when he was opposite their -boat and a hundred feet distant, Hardrock shoved the tiller hard -down and swung in toward her. - -One of the three waved his arm and shouted: - -“Git away! Sheer off! We don’t want no visitors.” - -Sheriff Fulsom straightened up, pointed down, and shouted something -indistinguishable. Hardrock held on his course. Again the leader of -the three waved them off, this time with added oaths. Fulsom -grinned. - -“Got something to show ye! Look here--look at this!” - -The Sheriff leaned forward as though to drag something up to sight, -then came up with the shotgun leveled. The other boat was now not -thirty feet distant. - -“Stand quiet and put your hands up! You’re under arrest. Hands up, -durn ye!” - -The whisky-runners were caught entirely unawares. This boat, -obviously an island boat, with only two men in her, had been -unsuspected; while to lake-farers any talk of arrest among the -Beavers was in itself ludicrous. There was nothing ludicrous about -Fulsom or the way he handled his shotgun, however, and after one -surprised oath the astonished and dismayed trio put up their hands. - -“Run her alongside,” said the Sheriff to Hardrock. “Then go aboard -and disarm ’em. Go through her for guns. You three gents roost high -and quiet, or I’ll blow daylight into ye.” - -“What’s this for, anyhow?” demanded the leader. He was a big, -lantern-jawed fellow marked with a scar across his cheek. His two -comrades were swarthy men, whom Hardrock took to be Greeks or -kindred foreigners. Who are you, holdin’ us up this way?” - -“Sheriff,” and Fulsom put up one hand to display his star. “All -right, Hardrock.” - -As the two craft came into each other, Hardrock jumped aboard the -larger boat and made fast a line. The sight of the officer’s badge -had disconcerted the trio, and they offered only sullen curses as he -swiftly went through them. From two of them he removed heavy -automatics, which he tossed into his own craft. The third man was -unarmed. - -Crawling through the forward opening of the deck-house, Hardrock -paused in surprise. There was no lifter in sight, no nets were -aboard, nor fish. Under him was a pile of a dozen whisky-cases, the -white wood all brown and soggy with water, which had evidently been -picked up at some other point in the course of the afternoon. A -quick search sufficed to show that no rifles or other weapons were -in evidence, and he returned to the foredeck. - -“Nothing aboard but whisky, Sheriff, and plenty of that,” he called. -“They loaded another cache aboard before coming here.” - -“Right thoughtful of ’em,” said Fulsom grimly, and moved back into -the stern, after tossing the captured weapons ahead of him. “You -three birds hop down into the bow, here. Come along, now, and no -talk.” - -“Can’t we fix this up, Sheriff?” demanded the leader. “We got some -money--” - -“Now I’ll soak you for attempted bribery,” snapped Fulsom. “Git -down!” - - * * * * * - -Cursing anew, the scar-faced leader got into the bow of the open -launch, and his two comrades followed him. Fulsom looked up at -Hardrock. - -“Cast off that anchor in her bows and make sure the line’s fast. -Give her the len’th. Good holdin’ ground here, and she’ll drift in -toward the shore and set pretty. No wind comin’ up tonight, anyhow. -I got two pair o’ handcuffs at camp, and when we get these birds -fixed up and have supper, we can figger what to do next.” - -The three “birds” looked decidedly unhappy. The two Greeks began to -talk in their own language, until the Sheriff peremptorily shut them -up. Hardrock, meantime, dumped the big anchor over the bows of the -green fishboat, watched the line run out until it drew taut, and -then climbed back into his own borrowed craft. The sun was just -sinking from sight. - -“Back to camp?” he asked, and Fulsom nodded assent. - -The engine started up, and the boat circled out for the point, the -Sheriff standing amidships with his shotgun ready. The three -prisoners, crowded on the bow thwart, showed no symptoms of putting -up any fight, however. - -“Simplest thing on earth,” said Fulsom calmly, “is to handcuff a -gent with his arms around a sapling. We’ll do that with two of these -birds, and interview the third--give ’em turn and turn about at it. -And we’ll keep ’em at far separated trees. And no supper. Make ’em -talk better, hungry.” - -As they were perhaps meant to do, these words reached and stung the -trio. After a rapid-fire exchange of Greek, the leader turned -around. - -“This aint legal!” he exclaimed savagely. “You aint got no warrant--” - -“I got a shotgun,” said the Sheriff, a cold glint in his eyes, “and -you’ll taste it if you get gay. So turn around there and set easy. -We aint ready for you to talk yet awhile.” - -The boat was around the point and heading in for the shore. -Hardrock, one hand on the tiller, swept her directly in toward the -clearing, threw out the clutch, and after a moment threw it into -reverse. With hardly a jar, the prow of the boat came into the -ground a couple of feet from shore, weighted down as it was by the -three prisoners. - -“Now, then,” ordered Fulsom, “you birds hop out and draw her up. -Don’t any of you make a break, or I’ll pepper your hides!” - - * * * * * - -The big leader, with a growled oath, obeyed the order. There was no -sand at the water’s edge, the beach being composed of small stones, -which farther back ran into sand. The two Greeks likewise got out. -The leader took the prow, each of the Greeks seized the gunnel, and -they drew up the launch until the bow was on the shingle. - -“Now you, Hardrock,” commanded the Sheriff. “Never mind the -guns--I’ll ’tend to ’em. Run over to my pile of stuff and fetch the -handcuffs, will you?” - -“Sure.” - -Hardrock stepped past the Sheriff and jumped ashore. - -At the same instant, the big leader stooped; and the two Greeks -shoved outward on the boat with all their power. Fulsom, caught -unawares by the tremendous lurch of the boat, lost his balance, -dropped the shotgun, and reeled for an instant. The leader hurled a -chunk of rock that struck the staggering man squarely in the side of -the head and sent him down like a shot. - -The whole thing passed off swiftly, neatly, with increditable -precision and accuracy. Even as Hardrock whirled about from his -spring, Fulsom was down and the launch was darting out twenty feet -from shore. - -Then he found all three men on top of him. One of the Greeks came -first, and went sprawling in the water as Hardrock’s fist met his -face. The second Greek lunged in from one side, a knife in his hand, -and took a kick under the chin that laid him senseless, but the -leader was hurling himself forward and Hardrock could not evade. -Caught in a burly grip, arms locked, both men went down, thrashing. -Even then, had matters been equal, Hardrock would have won out, for -with a twist he came up on top and rammed a fist into the scarred -face--but just then the first Greek swung a stone that laid the man -from Arizona prostrate. Dazed and almost senseless from the blow, -Hardrock keeled over, and before he could recover he was pinned down -under both opponents. - -“Tie him up!” growled the leader, and two minutes later Hardrock was -bound hand and foot, while the Greek stooped over his unconscious -comrade and the burly leader stood laughing and panting. He grinned -down at Hardrock. - -“So that’s what we think of you and your blasted Sheriff!” he -declared. “We’ll let him float to Mackinac, if he aint dead. By the -time he gits back here, we’ll sure be on our way. Got a good camp -here, aint you? Guess we’ll git us a bite to eat ’fore we bring up -our boat and beat it.” - -For a little, however, the man had his hands full. The groaning -Greek, revived by his compatriot, retrieved his knife and flung -himself on the bound captive; the leader interfered, and the trees -resounded to bellowed oaths and orders and imprecations. Hardrock, -helpless to move, watched and listened grimly. At length the -arguments of the leader took effect. - -“And ye don’t want to be the same damned fools ye were before, do -ye?” concluded the wrathful leader. “We don’t want to be trailed for -murder! Leave him be. We’ll fix him so’s he can’t hurt us none--and -we wont murder him neither. Ye may think ye can pull a stunt like -that more’n once, and get away with it; but ye can’t. How d’ye know -that there Sheriff didn’t want ye for the other shootin’, hey?” - -The sullen Greek acquiesced, put away his knife, and all three men -stamped away up to the camp. Darkness was gathering upon the waters, -but Hardrock no longer stared after the rapidly vanishing boat that -was drifted off along the shore and toward the open lake. Those -words of the leader were dinning in his brain. He knew now who had -shot down those two boys from St. James. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - -It was perhaps five minutes afterward, while some tins of food were -being opened, that the three whisky-runners realized they had -committed an error. Their leader, whose name appeared to be Marks, -was the one who realized it most keenly. He came down to the shore, -stared off in the gathering darkness at the boat, now a mere speck -in the dusk, and cursed fervently. The shotgun had gone into the -lake, and their pistols had all floated away with poor Fulsom. -Hardrock chuckled. - -“You fellows turn me loose,” he offered, “and I’ll tell you where -there’s a boat laid up down the shore.” - -Marks turned away. “You’ll tell more’n that ’fore we’re through with -you. Shut up!” - -The three gathered again about their food, getting a fire lighted -and in their clumsy ignorance of the woods heaping on fuel until the -yellow flames were leaping high and far. Over such a fire, any -cookery was impossible, and Hardrock chuckled at their profane -efforts to make coffee without getting the pot too hot to be -handled. - -He, meantime, while apparently motionless and helpless, was in -reality hard at work. He lay, half sitting, against a log between -fire and shore, at the clearing’s edge, arms bound behind him. He -had been tied up with the first thing to hand--bandanna handkerchiefs -produced by the Greeks, and had made the gratifying discovery that -the material was old and would tear easily. Therefore he was tearing -it, against the log at his back, and by the increasing looseness -knew that his wrists were nearly free. - -Marks conferred at length with his companions, who were obviously -taking their orders from him, and presently the two Greeks rose and -stamped off into the darkness along the shore, going toward the -point. Marks himself rolled a cigarette and came toward Hardrock. - -“If you’re going to starve me,” said the latter, “you might at least -starve me on a smoke. Look out your friends don’t get lost.” - -Marks laughed easily. “I’ll get you some coffee and a smoke,” he -replied, “if you’ll talk. Will you? Or shall I make you?” - -“Sure thing,” exclaimed Hardrock. “It’s a bargain. And cut me -loose.” - -“Not much,” retorted the other, and went back to the fire, where he -poured out a tin cup of coffee. - -Hardrock seized the instant. His arms came free. Swiftly he got a -hand into his pocket--thus far, they had not searched him except for -weapons--and slid out his pocketknife. His arms again in place behind -him, he opened a blade of the knife, and waited. One cut at his -ankles, and he would be free. Without that cut, he dared take no -chances, tempting as the occasion now was. - - * * * * * - -For Marks now came back to him, held the lukewarm coffee to his lips -as he drank, then gave him the cigarette and held a match to it. -Sitting down and wiping sweat from his face, for it was hot near -that big fire, the burly ruffian rolled himself another cigarette. -He was almost within arm’s reach of Hardrock--yet the latter -controlled himself. Until his feet were free he must attempt -nothing. - -“Now let’s have it,” said Marks. “I didn’t want them two lard-eaters -to get wise. What was it the Sheriff wanted to give us the third -degree about?” - -“About the shooting you fellows pulled off last time you were here.” - -Marks nodded, a frown darkening his scarred features. Evidently he -had anticipated this information. - -“Aint it hell how ye can’t make foreigners savvy anything?” he -demanded, to the astonishment of Hardrock. “Them two fellers have -just one notion o’ fighting--to take a gun and kill somebody! I’ll -have to let ’em go. I can’t make ’em savvy that there’s a durned -sight more danger in a murder charge than in running liquor.” - -“You mean they’re working for you?” - -“Yep. The blamed fools run on them Beaver men the other day, found -’em lifting the trap out yonder, and riddled ’em--then let ’em go. -That’s a fool Greek everytime. I wasn’t along, dog-gone it! I was in -Escanaba, sick that day, and ye can’t get nothin’ on me. I got to -stand by them fellers, o’ course, and get ’em away safe, but I don’t -like it a mite. This sort o’ killing is bad business.” - -Hardrock laughed curtly. “What about the Sheriff?” - -“Oh, him! He’s a Sheriff, takin’ chances. Same with you--depity, aint -ye? Yep. He aint killed, though. He’ll drift over in the channel -and’ll get picked up by a barge. We’ll run ye out to Gull Island and -leave ye there with some grub. That’s decent all around. A fight is -one thing, and killin’ is another thing. I been running booze a year -now, and never had a speck o’ trouble before this. Durn them -hot-headed Greeks! They’ve spoiled the best little game this side -the Soo.” - -“You’re sure frank about it,” said Hardrock dryly.” - -“Why not? I want you should understand it; I aint anxious to be -follered up for a killin’ I didn’t do! Bad enough to have my -business busted up. Now I got to land this cargo and then go -somewheres else. Dog-gone it! I hope they pass them immygration laws -an’ do it quick. A feller can’t make an honest livin’ no more, the -way these durned foreigners are everywhere.” - -Hardrock broke out laughing. Marks surveyed him darkly. - -“Ye may think it’s funny, but I don’t. It aint the law so much, -neither. It’s these durned islanders! They’re all over the lakes, -them or their relations. If they take the notion it was me -responsible for the killin’, they’ll drive me off the lakes, that’s -what.” - -The man’s viewpoint was irresistible, and Hardrock laughed the -harder, while Marks sucked at his cigarette and glowered angrily. -Then came the “chug-chug” of a gas engine, and a low call from the -darkness. Slowly the shape of the green fishboat drifted in upon the -shore and then halted as her bows hit the shallows ten feet from the -beach. - -“They had to swim to get her, anyhow!” exclaimed Marks. “The durned -fools needed a bath.” He rose and went past Hardrock to the shore. -“Hey, boys! Toss that anchor ashore so’s she wont drift off. We’ll -get away pretty quick, now.” - -Hardrock moved his arm, and the little blade of the penknife flashed -in the firelight as he slashed the bonds about his ankles. He was -free, now--but he must let them all get ashore. His only chance, -against the three of them, was to get their boat and leave them -here. It was a time for strategy, rather than for fighting; so, at -least, he thought. He was to discover his mistake very shortly. - -The two Greeks came ashore, bearing a line. It appeared that they -had cut loose the anchor rather than haul it in. There ensued a -furious storm of oaths from Marks; the two men became ugly, and for -a moment it looked as though a row were imminent. Then Marks cooled -down, and told them to get some of the supplies from Hardrock’s tent -aboard the boat. All three passed up to the tent, none of them -observing that the captive was no longer bound. - - * * * * * - -This was the opportunity Hardrock had been praying for, and he -gathered his muscles. Once he could shove out that boat and scramble -aboard her, he had everything in his own hands! He drew up his feet, -saw that the three men were busily engaged with his supplies, and -rose-- - -While he was in the very act of rising, a voice boomed out among the -trees at the clearing’s edge: - -“There’s Callahan and his whole crowd--git ’em all, lads! Take ’em!” - -Hardrock was already springing for the water, but a figure appeared -and blocked him. It was the figure of Hughie Dunlevy. Instantly, -Hardrock realized what had happened, and cursed the luck that had -brought the Beaver lads here at this moment. From the brush was -going up a crash of feet and wild yells, Marks was bellowing, the -Greeks were cursing and fighting--beyond a question, Dunlevy thought -that they were part of a gang under the direction of Hardrock -Callahan. - -There was no time for any explanations. The man from Arizona barely -had a chance to check his leap for the water, to spring back and -gain balance, when Dunlevy was upon him with a roar of battle-fury -and a whirl of fists. - -“Ye will murder poor lads, will ye?” he yelled, and struck. - -Hardrock ducked the blow and answered it with a smash to the wind -that stopped Hughie Dunlevy for an instant. Glancing around, -Hardrock was aware of the three whisky-runners by the tent, -furiously engaged with four or five other men. He and Dunlevy were -for the moment alone. Only a glance--then he was driving at his -opponent, hoping still to get out and aboard the boat. - -That hope seemed vain. A wild swing caught Hardrock under the jaw -and knocked him ten feet away; Dunlevy was after him instantly, -leaping high in air to come down upon him boots first. He came down -only on the shingle, however; and the man from Arizona, evading a -savage kick, reached his feet and began to fight. - -Hughie Dunlevy gasped and grunted as the blows smashed into him, -while before him in the firelight danced that unhurt face with its -blazing eyes and its furious unleashed anger. For all his tremendous -strength, the islander helplessly gave ground, was driven backward, -fists driving into him with relentless accuracy. In vain he tried to -grapple, to kick, to gouge--each attempt failed and only drew upon -him another terrific smash under the heart. - -Wanned as he was by white liquor, having great strength in place of -stamina, Dunlevy could not stand up under this battering. Never once -did Hardrock strike for the face, but drove in fists like hammers -that pounded heart and stomach in frightful repetition. - - * * * * * - -On the other side of the fire, one Greek was thrashing over the -ground with Jimmy Basset pounding him into submission. Connie -Dunlevy was down, trying to quench a knife slash that ran from -shoulder to elbow. The other three island men were battering Marks, -who was badly hurt and groaning as he fought, and the second Greek -whose knife flashed crimson in the firelight. Now Marks gave way and -came crashing down, and the snarling Greek reeled as a stone smashed -into his face. - -Hardrock got home to the wind with one direct punch that sent Hughie -Dunlevy two steps backward and brought down his hands--drove in -another that rocked him, and then set himself deliberately for the -finish. His feet shifting perfectly to keep balance, he now put over -a light tap to the mouth, and then laughed. - -“How d’ye like it, Hughie? Come and get it, boy, come and get it--” - -With a gasping bellow of anguished fury, the other obeyed, rushed -blindly into the blow that Hardrock smashed in with full force--a -perfect solar-plexus knockout. Dunlevy simply doubled up and rolled -to the ground. - -Two leaps took Hardrock to the boat. As he splashed through the -water, wild yells chorused up behind him, and he glanced around to -see dark figures bounding after him. He set himself against the -heavy bow of the boat and shoved--vainly. He could not budge her. -Desperate, he gave up the attempt and with a leap was dragging -himself over her rail. - -Too late! They were upon him, three of them; that effort to shove -her off had lost him his fighting chance. Mad with battlelust and -moonshine whisky, they dragged him back and bore him down, all three -hurtling in upon him bodily, careless of his blows, so that only -they might land blows upon him. Slipping on the stones, he lost -balance, went down, was stamped into the knee-deep water-- - -That was all he knew, for a time. - -Presently, half strangled and exhausted, Hardrock came to himself -again. This time he found ankles and arms fast lashed by men who -knew how to handle ropes. Beside him lay one of the Greeks, dark -features masked by blood, beaten senseless and bound; the other -Greek lay farther away, muttering low curses. - -Hardrock realized that some terrible sound had dragged him to life, -and now it came once more--a low scream of agony. His head cleared -slowly, as he visualized the scene before him. In the circle of -firelight lay Hughie Dunlevy, still unconscious, and by him sat his -brother Connie, weak and white and rather drunk, his arm all swathed -in crimsoned bandages. - -The other four men, by the fire, held the frantically struggling -figure of Marks, and were shoving his feet into the red embers. From -the man broke another scream, this time rising shrill with pain and -horror. - -“Quit it! Quit it! I’ll tell!” - -“Then talk, ye domned murderer,” growled Jimmy Basset. “Pull him out -and give him a drink to make him talk, lads--” - -The groaning Marks waited for no drink. “It was them Greeks done -it!” he cried desperately. “I wasn’t along with ’em, I tell ye! It -was them two done it!” - -“All right,” snapped Bassett, lurching a little as he glared down at -the captive. “And what about this Hardrock felly? Is he your boss?” - -“I don’t know him,” returned the unfortunate Marks. - -“Shove him in again, lads--” - -Marks screamed and twisted terribly. “No, no! Yes, he’s my boss. -Sure he is.” - -“Don’t you fools know a man will swear to anything under torture?” -demanded Hardrock furiously. “You’re going too far here. Cut this -business out!” - -Marks was hastily flung aside. They all turned to stare at him. -Connie Dunlevy, waving a bottle in his free hand, gave a weak, -drunken laugh. - -“Glory be, he’s awake! Burn the boots off’m him, byes!” - -The four lurched over. Hardrock made one desperate effort to pierce -through the liquor fumes to their fuddled brains. - -“Hold on, there, boys! You’ve got this thing all wrong. These men -are whisky-runners, and they had captured me before you came along. -I was getting away--” - -Jimmy Basset leaned over and struck him across the mouth, heavily. - -“Shut up wid you and your lies! Well we know it’s you that’s the -whisky-runner, and behind all this deviltry. So it was them Greeks -done the killin’, was it? Well, it was you behind it all, and it’s -you we’ll have a bit o’ fun wid the night. Up wid him, lads! Up and -shove him in!” - -Hardrock felt himself picked up. The next instant, with a wild yell, -the four men shoved him at the fire, shoved his feet and legs into -the heart of the blazing embers. He made one frantic, frightful -effort, kicked himself out of the flames, rolled aside. The four -gripped him and lifted him again, with a maudlin yell of glee. - -“All together, now!” howled Basset. - -“One, two--” - - - - - CHAPTER X - - -As the shot rang out, Jimmy Basset jumped into the air, then stood -staring at his arm that dripped blood. A voice struck on the -silence--a voice from the edge of the trees. - -“All right, boys--hands up all around! Sheriff Fulsom talking, and -two guns to talk with. First man moves gets a bullet in the leg.” - -That crisp, businesslike voice bit into their drunken senses like -acid. Hardrock lay where they dropped him. Sheriff Fulsom stepped -forward into the circle of light, a pistol in each hand, and not one -of the islanders moved, after reaching upward. - -“Cut loose that man Hardrock and do it durned quick. He’s a Deputy -Sheriff of this county, if ye want to know who he is. Cut him loose, -Willy John. Move sharp.” - -One of the men stooped and fumbled with Hardrock’s bonds. They were -all struck silent and were held in a stupefaction of dismay and -consternation by the appearance of Fulsom, whom they all knew. A -sudden and terrible sanity crept upon them. - -“You boys are shoving a good thing too far,” continued Fulsom. -“Hardrock and me got them murderers, and then they jumped us. Lucky -I aint as soft in the head as I look to be, for a fact! Took me -quite a spell to get ashore and come back here, at that. H’are ye, -Hardrock?” - -“All right,” said the latter, getting to his feet. - -“You done some swift action gettin’ out of that fire, sure enough! -Here, take a gun and stretch yourself. All right, boys, put your -hands down. I’m doin’ the talking for a spell--remember that. What’s -the matter with Hughie Dunlevy?” - -“I knocked him out,” and Hardrock chuckled. “Connie got knifed by -one of these Greeks--badly slashed, I think.” - -“All right, Connie, you go climb aboard that there launch, and do it -quick--no talk! Jimmy Basset, go with him. We’ll ’tend to your arm -quick enough; long’s you can move your hand it aint broke. Git!” - -The two men, dazed, obeyed the order and stumbled toward the boat at -the shore. Fulsom looked at the other three, grimly enough. - -“Now, I want you three boys for deputies. We got to take this whisky -boat over to Charlevoix and lock up these birds. Hardrock, got any -information to spill?” - -The man from Arizona briefly recounted what Marks had told him about -the murder by the Greeks. Fulsom comprehended at once, and nodded. - -“All right. Willy John, I s’pose you snuck up here in a boat and -left her laying down the shore?” - -“Yes,” said Willy John, rather sheepishly. “She’s down to Belmore -Bay.” - -“All right. You three deputies take the pris’ners and get aboard. -I’ll rustle up some handcuffs, if you rascals aint lost ’em. -Hardrock, get aboard likewise.” - -Hardrock smiled. “Sorry, Sheriff. Can’t be done.” - -“Eh?” Fulsom eyed him sharply. “We got to have your evidence--” - -“You’ll get it. I’ll come over on the mailboat tomorrow.” Hardrock -motioned to the figure of Hughie Dunlevy. “I’ve got a little -business to settle with this chap, first--I may have to convince him -a little more that I’m the better man. Then we’ll have to get his -launch and Micky’s boat back to St. James. And I have a very -important errand there.” - -“Oh!” Fulsom broke into a grin. “Oh! So that’s it, eh? That Callahan -girl, eh? Dog-gone you, Hardrock, here’s luck to you! See you later, -then.” - -He went for his handcuffs. Hardrock looked down at the slowly -wakening Hughie Dunlevy. - -“Looks like that textbook for engineers is never going to get -written!” he murmured. “Sure looks that way. I’ve got to convince -this fellow, then I’ve got to convince Matt Big Mary that I’m a good -man to marry his daughter, and then I’ve got to convince the -daughter of the same thing--but, I guess an Arizona Callahan can do -it, by gosh!” - -And he grinned happily. - - The End - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARIZONA CALLAHAN *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/68548-0.zip b/old/68548-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 209df1b..0000000 --- a/old/68548-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/68548-h.zip b/old/68548-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 33c7da4..0000000 --- a/old/68548-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/68548-h/68548-h.htm b/old/68548-h/68548-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 87748bf..0000000 --- a/old/68548-h/68548-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3039 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta charset="UTF-8" /> - <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Arizona Callahan, by H. Bedford-Jones</title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> - <style> - body { margin-left:8%; margin-right:8%; } - p { text-indent:1.15em; margin-top:0.1em; margin-bottom:0.1em; text-align:justify; } - h2 { text-align:center; font-weight:normal; page-break-before: always; - font-size:1.0em; margin-top:3em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; } - .ce { text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; } - .wifpc { margin-left:15%; width:70% } - .x-ebookmaker .wifpc { margin-left:5%; width:90% } - .mt01 { margin-top:1em; } - .mb01 { margin-bottom:1em; } - h1 { text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.4em; margin-top:3em; margin-bottom:1em; } - div.section { margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:4em; } - div.chapter { margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:1em; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Arizona Callahan, by H. Bedford-Jones</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Arizona Callahan</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: H. Bedford-Jones</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 17, 2022 [eBook #68548]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARIZONA CALLAHAN ***</div> -<div class='section'> -<div class='ce'> -<h1>The Arizona Callahan</h1> -<div>By H. Bedford-Jones </div> -</div> -<div id='ifpc' class='mt01 mb01 wifpc'> - <img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -</div> -<blockquote> -<p style='text-indent:0'>The same distinguished writer who gave you such thrilling stories of -far places as “The Brazen Peacock” and “Lou-Lou” knows the odd -corners of his own country too—as witness this exciting story of -adventure among the untamed Beaver Islanders.</p> - -</blockquote> -<blockquote> -<p style='text-indent:0'>[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the March 1924 issue of -<i>Blue Book Magazine</i>.]</p> - -</blockquote> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> - -<p>Nelly Callahan was the only one to see just what happened. Everyone -else in camp had gone down the island that day to get a count of the -half-wild cattle among the blueberry swamps.</p> - -<p>The wild drive of rain and low clouds to the westward hid Garden -Island from sight and lowered all the horizon, until Lake Michigan -seemed a small place. Beaver Island was clear vanished, and so was -High Island with its colony of Israelites. Nothing was to be seen -from this north end of Hog Island except the foaming shallows and -the deeper water beyond, and the huge rollers bursting in from the -Wisconsin shore—with two other things. One, as the keen blue eyes of -the watching girl could make out, was or had been a boat; the other -was a man.</p> - -<p>She had heard shots, faint reports cracking down the wind, drawing -her to the point of land to see what was happening out there toward -Garden Island. For a long while there was nothing to see, until the -boat came into sight. It was only a blotch, rising and then gone -again, gradually sinking from sight altogether. Few would have seen -it. Nelly Callahan, however, was an island girl, and her eye was -instantly caught by anything outside the settled scheme of things. -So she knew it for a boat, and after a time knew that it had gone -down entirely.</p> - -<p>Presently she made out the man. To her intense astonishment he was -sitting in the stern of a canoe, and paddling. Canoes are rare -things in the Beaver Islands these days; here in the center of Lake -Michigan, with the nearest land little more than a mirage above the -horizon, there are other and safer playthings, and life is too -bitter hard to be lightly held.</p> - -<p>Yet here was a canoe driving down the storm, a rag of sail on a -stumpy mast forward, tarpaulins lashed over freight-rolls amidships, -the man paddling in the stern. What connection was there between him -and that sunken boat, and those shots behind the curtain of rain and -mist?</p> - -<p>That he was trying to get in under the curving line of exposed ledge -and shoal that ran out from the point was obvious. If he missed, he -would be carried on out to the open lake, for once around the point -his chances of getting to land were slim. Nelly Callahan watched him -admiringly as he fought, gaining inch by inch, now leaning hard on -his paddle, now stroking desperately as the gusty wind threw off the -canoe’s head. The odds were worse than he could realize, too; all -along the point there were shoals, running only two to three feet of -water, and his canoe evidently carried a centerboard.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Suddenly she saw the paddle snap in his hands. The canoe swayed -wildly over, swayed back again, rose on a sweeping foam-crest and -was flung forward. Another instant, and she would have been rolled -over, but the man snatched out another paddle and dug it in. Again -the stubborn, straining fight, but he had lost ground, and the -current was setting out around the point of land.</p> - -<p>Still, he had a good chance to win. He was closer, now; Nelly -Callahan could see that his shirt was torn to ribbons, that his -mouth was bleeding; and those things did not come from wind and rain -alone. The canoe was a wide lake-cruiser, safe enough in any sea -except for her heavy load—but this rock-studded shore water was safe -for no craft. All the wide expanse around the Beavers is treacherous -with rocks barely awash.</p> - -<p>An invisible hand seemed to strike the man suddenly, knocking him -forward on his face. The canoe staggered, lay over on one side—she -had struck bottom. Frantically the man recovered, jerked up the -centerboard, threw in the pin. But he was too late; he had lost the -game. The bow, with its scrap of sail, bore off before the sweep of -wind, and like an arrow the canoe darted out around the point and -was gone.</p> - -<p>For a moment Nelly Callahan stood motionless at the edge of the -trees. Then she turned and started to cut across the base of the -long point, to get a view of the north shore beyond. There was no -trail, however. Nobody lived on Hog Island; the brush was heavy and -almost impenetrable. Excited, breathless, the girl struggled on her -way, but knew that she was too slow. However, she kept on. Presently -she burst through the final barrier, her feet slipping and sliding -on the ground-pine that trailed across the sand, and came out on the -northern stretch of shore. Nothing was in sight.</p> - -<p>For a little while she stood there, dismayed, agonized, incredulous. -She had been a long while getting here, of course; yet some sign of -man or canoe, even had the latter capsized, must have been within -sight. Here around the point the force of the rollers was lessened, -too. Yet everything was empty. Man and canoe had vanished.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>A shout roused the girl. She glanced over her shoulder, fear -flitting into her blue eyes; then she turned and retraced her steps.</p> - -<p>When she stepped back into the clearing of the camp, the others had -returned. She shrank within herself slightly, as always, as her eyes -swept them; for though Nelly was a Beaver girl, she was also -something more. Her mother had come from the mainland, and there was -none of the closely interbred strain in Nelly Callahan.</p> - -<p>“Where ye been?” called Matt Big Mary, her father, combing out his -tangle of black beard with knotted fingers. “Get the coffee on, -girl! It’s needin’ it we are, the day.”</p> - -<p>It was something of a tribute to Matt Callahan that he was not known -by the usual island diminutive, though the peculiar system of -nomenclature obtained to distinguish him from his cousin Matty -Basset Callahan. He was a giant of a man, massive as an oak, in his -deep eyes a brooding, glooming shadow that had lain there since his -wife died.</p> - -<p>The others were merry enough, however, for Hughie Dunlevy had fallen -into the swamp and mired himself head over ears; small wonder that -Jimmy Basset and Willy Tom Gallagher made sport at that, since -Hughie Dunlevy was a great man on the island, holding a second -mate’s ticket, and strong as any two men except Matt Big Mary. He -was fishing this summer, going partners with Matt, and had bought a -half-interest in the Callahan cattle that ran here on Hog Island. -Men said in St. James that he would make a good son-in-law to Matt, -for it is always the wildest who settle down the best, and if he -would but leave Jimmy Basset’s moonshine liquor alone, he had a -great future fronting him.</p> - -<p>Here for a week they were, pulling the long stakes that had held -pound-nets all the spring out at the edge of deep water where the -great trout and whitefish ran, and working the north island shore -with trap-nets and bloater lines. Here for a week were the four men, -with Nelly Callahan to cook and mind camp. She and her father -occupied the old shanty at the edge of the clearing; the other three -slept in the brown tent near by.</p> - -<p>Now, any other Beaver girl would have at once drawn general -attention to the sunken boat, which would wash in and make salvage, -and to the presumably drowned man and his canoe. But Nelly Callahan -kept quiet. She had become a changed girl since getting home from -her school-teaching this spring, and finding that her father had -made a match with Hughie Dunlevy for her; much had happened; -sorrowful things had transpired; and Nelly Callahan was biding her -time.</p> - -<p>Half an hour passed by, and the noon meal was over; and since the -weather was too bad for work, there was naught to be done but sit -and smoke. Then Matt Big Mary took Jimmy Basset and Willy Tom -Gallagher with him, and a trap-net from the big launch dragged up -under the trees, and set off down the shore. He gave Hughie Dunlevy -a significant wink.</p> - -<p>“We’ll take the skiff down to Belmore Bay,” said he, “and be setting -a trap out beyond the old wreck, and maybe pick up a fifty-dollar -box o’ bass come Saturday. Hughie, me lad, keep your eye on the -camp.”</p> - -<p>“Aye,” said big Hughie, grinning all over his broad, good-natured -face; and they filed off down the shore on their two-mile tramp to -Belmore Bay. Nelly was keenly aware of the strategy, but made no -comment. She was afraid of Hughie, as well she might be. A fine, -strapping lad he was except when he was crossed, and good-humored -while he had his own way and there was no liquor in him; yet he was -one to be afraid of.</p> - -<p>“There’s more cattle down the island than we looked for, Nelly,” -said he, chewing at a cigar and watching the girl as she cleaned up. -“The buyer will be over from East Jordan next week, and then -there’ll be doings. What’s more, there’s some big pine in yonder -that’s never been cut out. I’m thinkin’ of raftin’ it over to the -mill.”</p> - -<p>“Good idea, if you owned it,” said a strange voice. “But you don’t.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Hughie Dunlevy turned, stared, came to his feet with a leap. There -at the edge of the trees, his approach unheard, stood the man whom -Nelly Callahan had seen in the canoe. He wore nothing but his ragged -shirt, the most essential half of a pair of overalls, and canvas -shoes. Short, curly red hair crowned a face that was -weather-hardened, humorous, strongboned; one glimpsed sparkling gray -eyes that could either laugh or glitter, and a wide, generous mouth. -Dripping wet as he was, the stranger showed bruises and a cut lip, -and a red streak ran across his half-exposed chest.</p> - -<p>“If you could spare me a bite to eat, young lady, I’d appreciate -it!” exclaimed the stranger genially. “Did I scare you folks? Sorry! -My boat went down, and I was washed ashore, saw the smoke of your -fire, and came for it. Is that a fish mulligan I smell? Then if -there’s any left, have pity on a starving man!”</p> - -<p>Nelly, with a smile at his laughing words, turned to the big pot. -Hughie Dunlevy regarded the stranger with a frown on his wide -features.</p> - -<p>“Where’d ye come from? Who are ye?”</p> - -<p>“Callahan’s my name,” said the stranger, coming forward.</p> - -<p>“You’re no island Callahan!” said Dunlevy promptly. The other -laughed.</p> - -<p>“No, I haven’t that honor; but our ancestors were kings in Ireland -at the same time. I don’t go by that name either; mostly folks call -me Hardrock.”</p> - -<p>“Hardrock Callahan, eh?” exclaimed the girl, not liking the general -aspect of Hughie Dunlevy. “Well, I’m Nelly Callahan, and this is my -father’s camp, and you’re welcome. Shake hands with Hughie Dunlevy -and make yourself comfortable. I’ll have this mulligan hot in a -minute, and coffee’s all ready.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock stepped forward and extended his hand. Dunlevy accepted it, -though not with any marked warmth, and for an instant the two men -measured each other.</p> - -<p>“What was that you said when you showed up?” demanded Hughie. “About -me not owning this timber?”</p> - -<p>“Something like that, I guess.” Hardrock Callahan laughed -cheerfully. “I happen to own it myself. Oh, coffee ready? Thanks, -Miss Callahan—or if I may say so, Miss Nelly! I hate to use the name -of Callahan on the Beavers—too many other Callahans here already.”</p> - -<p>He sat down, turned his back to the scowling, indeterminate Hughie, -and sipped the hot coffee. Nelly Callahan did not smile, however, as -she put the mulligan pot in the embers. It had come to her that -while she was crossing the point, this man must have worked his -canoe in to the shore, have dragged it up, and have made camp. And -what was this story of owning the timber?</p> - -<p>“You and me will have a talk,” said Hughie Dunlevy, “when you’ve had -a bite to eat.”</p> - -<p>“Right,” said Hardrock Callahan. “I’ve had one or two talks already -this morning.”</p> - -<p>The girl looked at him, met his twinkling gray eyes, and smiled -despite herself.</p> - -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> - -<p>Nelly Callahan saw that this man Hardrock was a stranger; and yet he -was not a stranger. No one but a fool would have walked ashore on -the Beavers and claimed ownership of land, unless he was known and -accepted; for little good his law title would do him. Hardrock was -certainly not a fool, however; and at the same time he had some -knowledge of the islands. He had hidden his canoe and the stuff in -it; and it was significant that Nelly did not look upon the story he -told as a lie, but as justifiable precaution. Was it his motorboat -that she had seen sinking?</p> - -<p>“And did ye say,” inquired Hughie, recalling the boat, “that your -boat had gone down?”</p> - -<p>“Motorboat,” and Hardrock nodded in affirmation. “Hit a sunken rock -out yonder and raked her bottom out.”</p> - -<p>“Where from?”</p> - -<p>“St. James.”</p> - -<p>Hughie scowled at that, as well he might, since no one but an -islander was from St. James; and this man was no islander. Set in -the middle of Lake Michigan, inhabited by a hundred and fifty -families, each related to the others, living by the loot of the -lakes and woods, the islanders were a clannish lot who clung -together and let the world go by. A few Indians lingered; a few -outsiders had roamed in; a few tourists came and went; and over on -High Island was the colony of Israelites—silent, wistful men with -wide eyes and hairy lips. No law was on the Beavers, nor ever had -been, save when King Strang established his brief Mormon kingdom at -St. James. There was not an officer in the group, not a judge nor a -lawyer nor a doctor, and one man was as good as another; and once -when the revenue men came to pry around, with talk of the Eighteenth -Amendment, there were dark tales of what happened by night—but no -more revenue men came. As for game wardens they were not fools.</p> - -<p>The Beavers were not out of touch with the world, however. Scarce a -large boat on the western lakes but had from one to ten islanders -aboard, and the Beaver Gallaghers were known from Buffalo to Duluth; -how many island men lay at the bottom of Whitefish Bay, it was hard -to say. Some, who made money, spent the winters in Chicago or -elsewhere; and Bowery Callahan, who swung the island vote, was State -road-inspector and traveled up and down the land enjoying his ease.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Nelly looked at the two men by the fire, and felt a sudden hurt in -the heart of her for the smiling stranger. He had no fear in his -eye, and under his brown throat his skin was white like ivory, and -his arms under their tattered sleeves were smooth as silk. At him as -he ate glared Hughie Dunlevy, broad and dark like all the Dunlevys, -rippling with great muscles, a man with strength to toss a box of -fish like a toy; and many a tale was told of Hughie on the lake -boats, and how he put the boots to any man who dared stand up to -him.</p> - -<p>Now Hardrock sighed, and smiled at Nelly, and thanked her for his -meal.</p> - -<p>“We’ll have our talk,” said he to Hughie, “and then I’ll have a -smoke.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not so sure about that,” said Hughie. “What are ye doing here?”</p> - -<p>“Resting on my own land, if you want to know. I bought this end of -the island from Eddie John Macaulay in Charlevoix.”</p> - -<p>There was no parry between the two of them, no hesitation. Hardrock -looked Hughie in the eye and gave him the news straight and direct.</p> - -<p>“Buying isn’t keeping,” said Hughie. “We’ll have a word about that -matter. Eddie John told us to take the timber if we wanted it, and -take it we will.”</p> - -<p>The gray eyes of Hardrock glittered for a moment.</p> - -<p>“Take it you wont,” said he bluntly.</p> - -<p>Hughie laughed, and it was a laugh to reach under the skin and -sting.</p> - -<p>“Is that so, Mr. Callahan? It’s sorry I’d be to hurt ye, and you -washed ashore and out of luck; so keep a civil tongue in your head. -Have no such talk around Matt Big Mary, I warn ye, for this is his -camp and mine, and he’s a bad man in his anger.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock’s thin lips twitched. “So they said about Connie Dunlevy -this morning in St. James. I hope he’s not related to you? He came -out on the dock to have a talk with me, and I think they’re taking -him over on the mailboat this afternoon to the hospital.”</p> - -<p>Hughie scrambled to his feet. “Glory be! What have ye done to my -brother Connie, ye red-haired outlander?”</p> - -<p>“Not a thing,” said Hardrock, and chuckled. “Poor Connie fell off -the dock. I think he broke a rib or two, and maybe his shoulder.”</p> - -<p>“Get up!” cried Hughie hoarsely, passion flaming in his face. “So -that’s who marked ye up, eh? Then I’ll finish the job—”</p> - -<p>Hardrock stretched himself and began to rise, lazily enough. Just -then Nelly Callahan stepped forward.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Hughie!” she exclaimed. “It isn’t fair—you mustn’t! He’s all -worn out—”</p> - -<p>Hughie turned on her and shoved her aside. “Out o’ this! Stand -aside, and see—”</p> - -<p>He never finished the sentence, for Hardrock was off the ground like -a spring of steel, a billet of firewood in one hand, and the sound -of the blow could be heard across the clearing. Struck behind the -ear Hughie Dunlevy threw out his arms and went down in a heap. -Hardrock looked at Nelly Callahan, and the glitter of his eyes -changed to a smile.</p> - -<p>“So that’s that,” he said coolly. “Too bad I had to use the stick, -Miss Nelly, but you spoke the truth when you said I was done up. -Don’t worry about him—he’ll come around after a bit. Do you suppose -you could find me a bit of dry tobacco? Then we’ll sit down and talk -things over.”</p> - -<p>For a moment the girl looked at him. She was blue of eye and black -of hair, and the color was high in her cheeks; and when she smiled -there came a dimple on either side of her mouth, and her body held a -spring of the foot and a supple grace of round lines that the -school-teaching had not taken out of her. Suddenly a laugh broke in -her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Hughie had it coming, I think,” said she, and turned. “I’ll get you -the tobacco.”</p> - -<p>She got him some, and sat down at the fire and watched him stuff it -into his pipe and light it with an ember. Hughie Dunlevy lay where -he had fallen.</p> - -<p>“Father and the other boys will be back in an hour or sooner,” she -said. “I think you’d better go and get that canoe of yours, and be -off while you have the chance.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock gave her a swift look, then chuckled.</p> - -<p>“Oh! Saw me land, did you? No, I’m not going, thanks. I’m staying.”</p> - -<p>“Then you’ll have trouble, I’m afraid.”</p> - -<p>He shrugged, and lay back on one elbow, smoking contentedly.</p> - -<p>“Very likely. Eddie John Macaulay thought he worked a smooth trick -when he sold me this end of the island, timber and all, but I’d been -warned beforehand. I spent the night at St. James and went up to the -dance and had a grand time. Connie Dunlevy had too much moonshine, -though, and this morning he started to make trouble.”</p> - -<p>“Listen, please!” said the girl, an urgent note in her voice. “You -can’t take this seriously—but you must! You don’t understand. You’ll -not be allowed to stay, after all that’s happened. Who was shooting -out in the channel? What boat was that I saw sinking?”</p> - -<p>Hardrock took the pipe from his lips and regarded her for a moment.</p> - -<p>“My dear Nelly,” he said quietly, “I’m afraid you’re the one who -doesn’t understand. Did you ever hear of Danny Gallagher?”</p> - -<p>Her eyes opened at that. “Danny? Why of course! His father Vesty -owns the sawmill down at the head of the island. But Danny has been -away two years, in Arizona.”</p> - -<p>“And I’ve come from Arizona,” said Hardrock. “That’s where I got my -nickname. I’ve been running a mine out there, and Danny has been -working with me. He’s a fine boy, Danny is! He told me so much about -the islands that I came up here when I got a year off, and I’m going -to settle down in a cabin here under the trees, and finish writing a -mining book for engineers. Danny has written his father about me. I -meant to look up Vesty, but haven’t had a chance yet.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>The troubled comprehension in the blue eyes of the girl deepened at -this.</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you do it first?” she broke out. “If people knew that -Danny had sent you here, and Vesty Gallagher would answer for you, -there’d have been no trouble! Vesty is a big man on the island. A -word from him—”</p> - -<p>“My dear girl, I stand on my own feet,” said Hardrock quietly. “The -sunken boat you saw was mine. Two of Connie’s friends got after me. -I suppose they thought it was quite safe, for the rain was coming -down in sheets and one could scarcely see three hundred yards. They -ran me down before I knew what they were up to. Fortunately, I had -time to cut the canoe loose and get into her, and then I opened up -on the two rascals with my shotgun, and gave them plenty. Never -fear! When I go over to St. James I’ll know ’em again, and take a -little punishment out of them for the loss of that motorboat. -Satisfied, are you?”</p> - -<p>Under his twinkling gray eyes, the girl laughed a little.</p> - -<p>“Hold it!” he exclaimed. “Oh, no use—gone again.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” Her gaze widened. “What?”</p> - -<p>“Those dimples. How long is this camp to continue?”</p> - -<p>“Until the first of the week.” Nelly Callahan was disconcerted by -his abrupt change of subject and forgot to resent the personality. -“Father’s rounding up some cattle and counting how many there are -here.”</p> - -<p>“Good! Then I’ll be over to the dance next Thursday night. May I -take you?”</p> - -<p>She was startled by his words. She was more startled a moment later -when a crashing of brush sounded, and she leaped to her feet.</p> - -<p>“Oh! Father’s coming—”</p> - -<p>“Answer the question,” persisted Hardrock. “Quick!”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said, and then turned swiftly to him. “Go quickly—”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” Hardrock puffed at his pipe. “Nothing to get excited -about. I’m not going to start any trouble, I promise you. Great -Scott! Is that your father?”</p> - -<p>He stared at the huge figure of Matt Big Mary advancing upon him, -with the other two men following. All three gaped at him. Matt, -astonished, came to a halt.</p> - -<p>“What’s this!” he rumbled. “Hughie! Where’s Hughie, lass? Who’s yon -man?”</p> - -<p>“Hughie’s gone to sleep,” said Hardrock, and came easily to his -feet. “My name’s Callahan—”</p> - -<p>“He’s a friend of Danny Vesty Gallagher,” broke in the girl swiftly. -“From Arizona. And Danny had him buy this end of the island from -Eddie John Macaulay, Father.”</p> - -<p>“Shipwrecked on my own land,” said Hardrock, laughing. He held out -his hand. “You’re Matt Callahan—Matt Big Mary? Danny has told me -about you. Glad to meet you.”</p> - -<p>Matt gave him a huge grip, between surprise and bewilderment.</p> - -<p>“What’s all this? Bought it off of Eddie John, ye did? And what d’ye -mean by shipwrecked? There’s been no boat—”</p> - -<p>“My motorboat went down,” said Hardrock. “I got ashore with my -duffle, though. Got a camp down shore a piece. Came over from St. -James this morning.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! And it’s a friend o’ Vesty Gallagher ye are, eh? What’s the -matter with Hughie?”</p> - -<p>“Hughie made a mistake,” Hardrock grinned cheerfully. “He didn’t -believe that I had bought this bit of the island. Somehow, Hughie -and I didn’t get along very well. He had some queer idea that I -ought to walk home, and I didn’t agree with him. So he went to -sleep. I guess I’ll be going. Drop over to my camp sometime. I’ll -likely run in and see you again. Thanks for the coffee, Miss Nelly.”</p> - -<p>And he was gone, with a wave of his hand, before the three -astonished men knew what to say or do.</p> - -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> - -<p>Hardrock Callahan passed along the narrow sand-strip that edged the -north shore of Hog Island, until he found a slight opening among the -trees that suited him. Then he came back to his pulled-up canoe and -began to transport his load to the spot selected; the canoe itself -he left hidden where it was.</p> - -<p>The storm was not clearing off, but was turning and bringing down a -new and colder drift of rain and wind from the north. Ax in hand, -Hardrock attacked the tangle of dead and living trees that rimmed -him in like a wall. For an hour he worked steadily, slowly driving -back the growth and clearing the grassy sward that had attracted -him; then he dragged the debris to the shore and was rid of it. This -done, he sat down in the wet sand, stuffed some of his own tobacco -into his pipe, and sighed comfortably.</p> - -<p>“What a girl!” he observed. “And she’s the same one Danny Gallagher -showed me the picture of, too. That’s a coincidence. Well, I’d -better get a shelter up before I settle down to dream about her. -Good thing the motorboat went down instead of my canoe! She’s a -grade above most of the islanders that I’ve seen—”</p> - -<p>Whether he referred to canoe or girl was not determined.</p> - -<p>He set to work methodically getting up the tent, which he now -unlashed, and anchored it securely. His clearing opened on the shore -to the north, and the trees fully protected him from the eternal -west winds; since he was pitching the tent for all summer, he made a -thorough job of it, and this took time. Then, opening up some of his -bundles, he produced flannel shirt and corduroys and other garments, -and clothed himself in decency. Having already collected some dry -wood from the thicket, he now built up a cheerful blaze and watched -the wispy smoke whirl away in gray shreds down the wind. The -afternoon was waning, and he was considering opening up some grub -when a huge figure came into his vista of the shore and Matt Big -Mary was striding up to him.</p> - -<p>“Greetings!” exclaimed Hardrock cordially. “Come in out of the rain -and toast your shins.”</p> - -<p>The big man nodded solemnly, sat down beside Hardrock in the tent -opening, produced a black pipe and blacker tobacco, and lighted up. -He sat for a little in silence, staring over the fire at the gray -lake with those deep-set, melancholy eyes of his. At length he -removed the pipe from his lips and spoke.</p> - -<p>“Hughie tells me ye’ve bought the timber.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. It went with the land, said Eddie John. I’ve no use for it, -except this tall pine right back of here. If you want the rest, you -can have it.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t,” said Matt. “You’re none of the island Callahans?”</p> - -<p>“No. New York State.”</p> - -<p>“So are we, out of County Tyrone. All the same stock.” Matt puffed -over that for a bit. “Ye done a bad day’s work, fallin’ foul of -Hughie Dunlevy.”</p> - -<p>“That’s as may be. Sooner him than you.”</p> - -<p>Matt turned and swept Hardrock with his slow gaze. “Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because,”—and Hardrock stretched himself out more -comfortably,—“because I expect to marry your daughter.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t like jokes,” said Matt Big Mary, after a moment. “Not that -kind.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not joking,” said Hardrock coolly. “Danny Gallagher showed me a -picture of her, and that’s why I came here, partly. Now that I’ve -seen her and talked with her, I <i>know</i>. I’m fair with you. If she’s -in love with nobody else, and I can win her, I’ll do it.”</p> - -<p>“Hot head, queer heart,” said Matt, a gathering rumble in his tone.</p> - -<p>Hardrock laughed. “I’m safe enough.”</p> - -<p>“She’s promised.”</p> - -<p>“By herself or by you?”</p> - -<p>“No matter. Hughie Dunlevy marries her.”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>Storm grew in Matt’s eyes, and his big black beard bristled.</p> - -<p>“Careful, me lad! The boys wanted to come over and have a talk with -ye, but I set down me foot. I want no trouble, without ye force it -on me. I’ll have no man makin’ light talk of my girl, more -particular a stranger.”</p> - -<p>“It’s not light talk, Matt; I mean every word of it,” said Hardrock. -“And I’m not a good one to bluff, either. You fellows on the -Beavers, Matt, are all clannish, and you all stick together like -burrs, and you throw a strong bluff. Why? Because you’re all afraid -of the big world. Let a better man walk in and whip one or two of -you, and things are different. Besides, I have a friend or so if I -want to call on ’em, and I’ll be no outcast. So think twice, Matt, -before you lay down the law.”</p> - -<p>Even while he spoke, Hardrock felt his words fruitless. Matt’s -mental horizon was too narrowed to comprehend him in the least.</p> - -<p>“You take my advice,” said Matt Big Mary after a moment. “Be out of -here before tomorry night, me lad. Ye’ll find a skiff on the shore -down to the bay—”</p> - -<p>“Want me to put you off my land, Matt?” said Hardrock quietly.</p> - -<p>The other was so astonished that he turned his head and stared. What -he saw in those hard, icy gray eyes held him silent. Hardrock -continued:</p> - -<p>“You seem to think, Matt, that I’m a boy to obey you. I’m not. I -don’t intend to put up a ‘No Trespass’ sign and keep folks off, but -I’m not taking orders from you, and I’m not scared worth a damn. If -you bring a fight to me, I’ll meet you halfway every time. I’ve -tried to be decent with you, because I want no trouble. Now, I have -to be in St. James tomorrow morning, and I’ll expect you to see that -my camp here isn’t disturbed while I’m gone; you’re square enough to -keep your men away from it. Think things over. When I come back, -I’ll see you. If you’ve made up your mind to avoid trouble and meet -me halfway, I’ll be glad. If not, we’ll settle things in a hurry. -What d’you say to that?”</p> - -<p>Matt Big Mary laughed slowly.</p> - -<p>“Aye,” said he. “That’s fair, Hardrock. But you’ll not come back -from the island, if what Hughie did be tellin’ us is so. Connie -Dunlevy will be waitin’ for you, or his friends.”</p> - -<p>“So will Vesty Gallagher.” Hardrock grinned cheerfully. “I’ll be -back tomorrow night or next day. Anything you want me to fetch with -me—mail or grub?” Matt stared at him a moment, then rose to his -feet.</p> - -<p>“Damned if I can make ye out,” said he reflectively. “So long. I’ll -answer that the boys don’t touch your camp.”</p> - -<p>He strode away and vanished along the shore.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>When daylight died, the storm was blown out and the rollers were -already going down. Hardrock Callahan, after luxuriously dining on -beans and biscuit and hot tea, smoked his pipe and watched the -stars, then laid out his blankets and rolled up. He was asleep -almost at once.</p> - -<p>It was two in the morning when he wakened, as he had set himself to -do. A glance at his watch confirmed the hour. He dressed, and went -down to the shore. Everything was quiet, save for the wash of waves -and the whisper of breeze in the trees overhead. Off to the -northwest came the swift, clear flash of the Garden Shoal light, and -farther west, the red flash from Squaw Island light glimmered over -the horizon. Nodding, Hardrock returned to his tent, produced an -electric torch and for ten minutes pored over an unrolled chart of -the island group.</p> - -<p>Then, satisfied, he laced up the tentflap, turned to the shore, and -went to where the wide lake-cruising canoe was laid up under the -bushes. In ten minutes the light craft was standing out under the -breeze, rounding the point and holding south for Beaver Island and -St. James.</p> - -<p>The dawn was breaking when he drew down toward the long and narrow -harbor. Instead of holding for it, however, he went to the right of -the unwinking red eye of the lighthouse, came to shore on the point -amid the thick trees and half-ruined dwellings there, and drew up -the canoe from sight. Hardrock Callahan was learning caution. He set -out afoot, and presently came to the road that wound along the bay -and was the artery of the straggling row of houses circling the -bay-shore for a mile or more and forming the town of St. James.</p> - -<p>The sun was rising upon a glorious day when he had passed down the -length of the bay to the head, and reached the hotel and the -restaurant adjoining. The hotel was not yet alive for the day, but -the island itself was astir, and the restaurant was open. Hardrock -went in and breakfasted leisurely by the help of Rose McCafferty, -who was waitress, cook and proprietor. Finding himself taken for an -early tourist from the hotel out for the morning’s fishing, he let -it go at that.</p> - -<p>“Hear any more about the boys who were shot up?” he inquired -casually, in the course of the meal. The response stupefied him.</p> - -<p>“Glory be, and what more is there to hear, except the name o’ the -scoundrel that done it? Poor Marty Biddy Basset—a grand boy he was, -and only yesterday morning he was settin’ here before me! And Owen -John will maybe get well, but the fever’s on him and it’s no talkin’ -he’ll do this long while. The doctor at the hotel is wid him this -blessed minute.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” Hardrock stared at her. “One of them’s dead, you say? I didn’t -know that—”</p> - -<p>“Wasn’t they picked up by the Danes and brought in last night, and -poor Marty wid a bullet through him, and two through Owen, and the -both of ’em all peppered wid birdshot as well, and the boat ruined -wid bullets? There she lays down to the Booth dock this minute—”</p> - -<p>Hardrock laid a coin on the counter and went out.</p> - -<p>He stood staring down at the line of fish-sheds and wharves across -the road, feeling numb and unable to believe what he had heard. -Dead! Yet he had certainly used no bullets; he had neither rifle nor -pistol. Mechanically he crossed the road and walked through the -soft, deep sand to the fish-company’s wharf. Red-haired Joe Boyle -had just opened up the shed and was getting in some box-parts to -knock together; he flung Hardrock a casual nod as the latter -approached, and went on about his business.</p> - -<p>The boat was not far to seek. She lay on the north side of the dock, -and Hardrock stood gazing down at her. That she was the same which -had run him down, he saw at a glance; not many of these boats were -open craft; nearly all having a boxlike shelter for engines and -lifters and men.</p> - -<p>Across her weathered stern-sheets was a pool of dried, blackened -blood, and the thwart by the engine carried another grim reminder. -Fear clamped upon Hardrock—fear lest he be blamed for this affair. -It seemed only too probable. Whoever had done the murder, too, must -have done it shortly after he himself had peppered the two men with -his shotgun. The swift impulse seized on him to run while he could.</p> - -<p>Instead of running, however, he leaned over and jumped down into the -boat. Up forward was a tangle of ropes and lines and life-belts, and -a colored object there caught his notice. He picked it up. It was a -small pennant-shaped bit of canvas, painted half white, half black, -attached to a stick that had broken short off. Moved by some -instinct, certainly by no obvious reason, he pocketed it and climbed -back to the wharf.</p> - -<p>“Morning,” said a voice, and he looked up to see a gnarled, -red-whiskered man surveying him with an air of appraisal. “Your name -aint Callahan, by any chance?”</p> - -<p>“Callahan it is. Otherwise, Hardrock.”</p> - -<p>“Good. I been lookin’ for ye,” said the other. “I’m Vesty Gallagher, -Danny’s dad. Let’s you and me go somewheres, and go quick. Come on -over to Dunlevy’s shed. Good thing I seen ye, Hardrock—blamed good -thing! Come on.”</p> - -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> - -<p>In the heavy, dank quiet of the shed where the big nets hung, -Hardrock sat smoking his pipe. His brain listened mechanically to -the words of Vesty Gallagher; yet other sounds were borne in upon -him; the rattle of ice from the wharf, the slam of fish-boxes tossed -about, the eternal creaking of the great net-frames as they swung -and swung endlessly in the breeze and groaned futile protest.</p> - -<p>“By luck I come to town last night for freight, and remained over,” -said Vesty, “and by luck I seen you this morning and knew ye for a -stranger. I said a word or two last night, when there was talk about -your scrap wi’ Connie Dunlevy, after the two boys was brought in. -Some said you had done it, d’ye see? Nobody knows what’s happened -out there in the fog and rain, but there’s plenty that intend to -know. Eleven families o’ Bassets there are on the island, and Marty -Biddy dead today. Not to mention Owen John, wi’ two bullets through -him and the fever bad on him, and he’ll go over to the Charlevoix -hospital on the mailboat. By luck my boy Danny had been writin’ me, -and I was looking for ye.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock nodded and turned to the gnarled man beside him.</p> - -<p>“It was more than luck that I met you this morning,” he said -quietly. “You don’t know just how bad things look for me. Here’s -what happened.”</p> - -<p>He told what had taken place the preceding day, omitting no detail. -“They were not close enough for the shotgun to do much damage,” he -concluded. “Where those bullets came from, I can’t pretend to -guess.”</p> - -<p>Vesty Gallagher bit his pipestem thoughtfully, watching Hardrock -from screwed-up, sharp little eyes.</p> - -<p>“You’re straight,” he said suddenly. “I’m with ye. So that’s -settled. Now hark ye here, me lad! I’ll have a word wi’ the priest, -and he’ll have a word wi’ the boys, and they’ll go slow. But if I -was you, I’d come down to the sawmill with me and spend a while -there.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock smiled. “Thanks, Vesty, but I can’t do it. Surely there -must be some way of telling who shot those two fellows?”</p> - -<p>“There’s many would ha’ liked to do it,” said old Gallagher. “The -two of them was a bad lot—them and the Dunlevy boys hung together. -Ye’ll have trouble there. Connie Dunlevy and Hughie will guess that -ye had a hand in the shootin’, and they’ll go for ye. Better ye come -down home with me, lad.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t. Promised Matt Callahan I’d come back to Hog Island and -settle matters with him.” The gray eyes of Hardrock twinkled. “I -said I’d put him off my land if he wasn’t reasonable, and I’ll do -it.”</p> - -<p>“Glory be! Have ye been fighting with Matt Big Mary? And I hear -Hughie’s over there—”</p> - -<p>Hardrock related a version of his encounter on the island—a version -which very tactfully omitted any mention of Nelly Callahan. Old -Vesty chuckled and scratched his red whiskers and then chuckled -again.</p> - -<p>“Praise be, it’s fine to hear of some one who’s got the guts to -stand up to them Callahans!” he exclaimed. “Betwixt ’em, the -Callahans and Dunlevys have been runnin’ too high a hand and -drinkin’ too much o’ Jimmy Basset’s moonshine. What came ye to town -for?”</p> - -<p>“To find who it was had run me down, and make ’em pay for my -motorboat,” said Hardrock. “But now I’ll reconsider the program. It -wont do to have everybody know what happened, or I’d be—”</p> - -<p>“You’d be shot so damned quick ye’d never know what struck!” said -Vesty promptly. “Word’s been passed around that you’re a revenuer, -but I’ve put a stop to that. If Owen John does any talkin’ before -they take him to Charlevoix, he’ll be able to tell what happened, -but they say he’s bad off.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose the sheriff will be over to investigate?”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Vesty sucked at his pipe a moment. “Maybe,” he said slowly. “And -maybe not. Depends on what story’s told. This here is Beaver Island, -me lad. Them fellys has had scraps with everybody—Injuns, Danes, -Israelites and Washinton Island men. Last week they had a scrap with -some fellys from Cheboygan that was robbin’ some nets. A wild bunch, -them Cheboygan lads, fishin’ on other folks’ ground and runnin’ -whisky in from Canady. What’ll ye do now?”</p> - -<p>“Go back to Hog Island,” said Hardrock.</p> - -<p>“Do it, and if ye have any regard for health, keep the peace with -Matt Big Mary! I’ll walk up the shore with ye—left your canoe on the -north point, ye said? It’ll do ye no harm to be seen walkin’ with -me.”</p> - -<p>They left the shed and swung up to the road, and there Vesty hailed -a man and halted Hardrock to meet him.</p> - -<p>“It’s Tom Boyle Gallagher, me own cousin, and his boys run the -freight-boat and he runs the store yonder. Hey, Tom! Shake hands -with Hardrock Callahan. He’s the felly who had the scrap with Connie -Dunlevy yesterday mornin’. It’s a friend of Danny’s he is, and a -friend of mine, and he’s bought some land on Hog Island from Eddie -John Macaulay.”</p> - -<p>Tom Gallagher grinned as he met Hardrock’s grip. “Glad to meet ye. -Another Callahan, eh? Glory be, but the fightin’ Callahans are all -over the world! I seen ye to the dance the other night. Hear ye -knocked Connie clear off’n the dock, eh? Good for him.”</p> - -<p>“Sorry I had any trouble,” said Hardrock. “I want to spend the -summer up here, and it seems like I got off to a bad start.”</p> - -<p>“More like a good start,” and Tom chuckled. “Drop in to the store -any time. It’s glad to see you I’ll be. See ye later, Vesty!”</p> - -<p>The two men walked up the road together, meeting not a few folk. To -more than one of these Vesty spoke, introducing Hardrock with -emphatic cordiality, stopping now for a word or two and again for a -bit of talk, so that it was a good hour afterward when they -approached the canoe.</p> - -<p>Hardrock, who wanted to pick up a trout or whitefish on the way -back, showed his trolling line to old Vesty, and had a word of -advice as to tackle, and then Vesty gave him a word as to other -things.</p> - -<p>“Lay low, me lad. When news comes, I’ll have Tom Boyle Gallagher’s -boy bring it to ye—Micky, his name is. There’s a few Gallaghers left -on the island yet, praise be, and any friend o’ Danny’s is goin’ to -have a square deal. Be off with ye now, and good luck.”</p> - -<p>Ten minutes later, with the canoe leaning over to the breeze as she -drew out, Hardrock was steering north and exchanging a last wave of -the hand with Vesty Gallagher. Under the latter’s optimistic -influence and quick friendship, his stunned depression had quite -evaporated. He was himself again, no longer hesitant or doubting, -ready for whatever might happen.</p> - -<p>“Blamed lucky thing I met him!” he thought, as he let out his -trolling line and settled down to steer for home. “And I sure hope -that wounded chap will open up and talk before long. Well, by gosh, -I feel a heap better than I did! I think I’ll drop in on Matt’s -camp—ought to get there about noon. Going to marry Hughie Dunlevy, -is she? Not if I know it! Not, that is, unless she wants to, and -I’ll gamble she doesn’t.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>With just the right amount of ballast to hold her head down, the -canoe was a marvel for speed, and Hardrock Callahan, who had not -spent all his life in Arizona, knew how to handle her. Thus it was -not quite noon when he bore up for the north point on Hog Island.</p> - -<p>In spite of the big whitefish that came to his line and set his -knife to work and brought the gulls wheeling to pick up the offal, -Hardrock had plenty of time to reflect on his situation. He was not -particularly given to reflection, but just now there was need of it. -One man was dead; another was badly wounded; by good fortune, no one -knew of their encounter with Hardrock Callahan, but that story was -bound to come out. If the wounded man did not recover, and could not -give an account of the killing, investigation would probably fasten -the blame on Hardrock, from circumstantial evidence. So far -suspicion was not directed at him—but it would come.</p> - -<p>“These are slow-thinking people, and the law is probably slower to -reach up here,” he mused. “So much the worse when the time for -action comes! Looks like it’s distinctly up to me to land the -murderers, as a matter of self-protection; and a fat chance I have -of doing it! Since there was no mention of Connie Dunlevy being -taken to the hospital, he’s probably not so badly hurt as I thought. -That gang is against me, sure. Hm! Guess I’ll take counsel with the -young lady. She’s got a level head.”</p> - -<p>He held in for the strip of shore before Matt Big Mary’s camp, and -perceived that the updrawn boat was gone. As his canoe scraped on -the sand and he leaped ashore, Nelly Callahan appeared and waved her -hand.</p> - -<p>“Welcome back! Have you come for more coffee?”</p> - -<p>“That and other things,” responded Hardrock cheerfully, holding up -the whitefish. “Anybody around?”</p> - -<p>“They’ve all gone to finish pulling stakes and wont be back until -late,” said the girl. “Did you have any trouble in town?”</p> - -<p>“No. I met Vesty Gallagher, and we had quite a talk. Got any nails -around here? If you have, let’s get this fish on a slab and we can -discuss the weather while it’s browning.”</p> - -<p>Searching the shore, he presently espied a slab of mill wood, nailed -the opened fish to it, spilled plenty of seasoning over the firm -white flesh, and got the slab in position beside the fire. Then he -sat down and lighted his pipe and looked at Nelly Callahan, who sat -on the end of a log and darned a thick stocking; and presently he -told her all that he had learned this morning in St. James.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>For a moment her face flashed white, and in the depths of her -widened gaze he read alarm and swift fear and wild surmise. Then she -was herself again, cool and steady, her blue eyes searching into him -with unconcealed tenseness of interest, and only her breath coming a -little swifter to denote the startled heart that was in her.</p> - -<p>“It seems impossible!” she murmured. “Oh! And when everyone learns -of how you used your shotgun on them—”</p> - -<p>“Steady! Nobody knows that except you and Vesty,” said Hardrock. -“Who’d believe me? They’d say I had a pistol or rifle and dropped it -overboard after shooting the two men. And how do you know I hadn’t, -Nelly? How do you know I’m not lying?”</p> - -<p>She looked at him steadily for a moment, meeting his gaze squarely. -Then:</p> - -<p>“How did Vesty know it?” she said, and smiled a little. “Don’t be -silly. Did you see any other boat around, except theirs?”</p> - -<p>Hardrock shook his head. “No, but that means nothing. I couldn’t see -far for the rain, and I was intent on them—they’d been following me, -you know. If there’s any clue to be gained, it’s from you.”</p> - -<p>“From me? How?”</p> - -<p>“The shots. You said you had heard shooting. Now, I let off both -barrels of my shotgun, no more. I did think that I heard shots after -that, but my sinking boat was making such a racket—the exhaust pipe -was smashed when they ran me down—and I was so infernally busy -handling that canoe, that I didn’t notice them. You did. How many -were there? You’d notice the difference between the bang of my -shotgun and the crack of rifles, too.”</p> - -<p>The girl nodded, and lifting her eyes, stared out toward the blue -mass of Garden Island on the horizon.</p> - -<p>“There must have been five or six shots,” she said slowly. “Now I -think of it, I believe that two did come sometime earlier—that was -what drew my attention. Yes, and the others were different. They -sounded more like the deep crash of an automatic pistol than the -sharp crack of a rifle. But how can that help you? I couldn’t see -what happened. I can’t swear—”</p> - -<p>“You’re not expected to!” Hardrock responded, and felt through his -pockets for a match. “The thing is, to make sure of what you heard. -Somebody else was out there—a third boat—”</p> - -<p>He broke off sharply. From his pocket he drew a strange object; then -recognition came into his eyes as he stared at it. It was the -pennant-shaped canvas he had taken from the boat at the Booth dock.</p> - -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> - -<p>“That’s funny!” he exclaimed, staring at the scrap of canvas. The -girl glanced at it, then gave him a puzzled look.</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“You know what it is?”</p> - -<p>“Of course. It’s the little flag left flying from a fish-trap to -show its position.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” Hardrock laughed and tossed it aside. “I don’t know what made -me bring it—found it lying in that boat this morning, with a lot of -other stuff.”</p> - -<p>To his surprise, the girl’s eyes dilated suddenly, excitement leaped -into her face.</p> - -<p>“What boat?” she demanded. “Not—” “Yes, the one that ran me down. -Why?” Dropping her work, Nelly Callahan pounced on the bit of -canvas, and lifted blazing eyes.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you see! It explains everything! Can’t you remember seeing -that flag in the water just before they ran you down?”</p> - -<p>Hardrock stared at her, his gray eyes narrowed and glittering.</p> - -<p>“Hm! Blamed if I can see why it amounts to much—come to think of it, -I believe I did notice such a flag. Ran close to it. Not the same -one, probably.”</p> - -<p>“Of course it was the same one!” exclaimed the girl, excitedly. She -was all animation. “Don’t you see? This flag is painted to denote -ownership, so each man will know his own traps! We don’t use them -much around here—don’t need to. But the perch season is coming on, -and fishermen from Charlevoix and Petoskey and even Cheboygan who -work around here need to use marked traps. Now do you see? Hughie -Dunlevy and his friends have been fighting the men from outside who -come in on their grounds. Well, Marty Biddy Basset and Owen John, as -soon as they ran you down, circled back to that fish-trap and -probably started to rob it. They broke off this flag so the owners -wouldn’t find the trap again, and—”</p> - -<p>Hardrock whistled. “And then the owners came along and opened fire! -Upon my word, Nelly, I believe you’ve struck it! And nobody noticed -this flag lying in the boat last night—”</p> - -<p>They stared at each other, until suddenly the girl broke into a -tremulous laugh.</p> - -<p>“So all you have to do is to find who uses this flag!”</p> - -<p>“Who does, then?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. Any of the men would know, probably.”</p> - -<p>“Hm! Vesty said that Hughie and his friends had fought last with -some Cheboygan men. He mentioned whisky-running—”</p> - -<p>“Yes!” The girl flashed up indignantly.</p> - -<p>“And you know what they say about us over on the mainland—that -everybody on the Beavers runs whisky from Canada! It’s not so. None -of us do that. Jimmy Basset, who’s here with Father, makes -whisky—that’s true; but most of the time he’s so crippled up with -rheumatism that he can’t fish and do any work, and it’s the only way -he has of supporting his family. So nobody else on Beaver makes -whisky, and nobody runs it from Canada—it’s those Cheboygan men who -run it! And they hide up on one of the islands here until they can -sneak it in to Ed Julot over at Harbor Springs for the summer -resorters to buy—and then everybody blames the Beaver men! Look -after that fish, or it’ll burn—quick, it’s in the fire! I’ll get the -coffee and bread.”</p> - -<p>The girl was up and gone for her supplies.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Hardrock rescued the planked whitefish from the encroaching blaze, -smiling to himself as he did so, over the utterance of the indignant -Nelly. He could appreciate her point of view and could even -sympathize with it. There was something whimsically just about one -half-crippled man being allowed a monopoly on moonshine liquor, by -common consent, for his support.</p> - -<p>“Thank heaven I’m no prohibition-enforcer!” reflected Hardrock. “I -expect she’s hit it right, however, as regards the runners who -supply the resort towns from Mackinac to Traverse with booze. These -islands are ideally located for their purpose, and the pretense of -being honest fishermen—hm! By hemlock, I’ve got the answer to the -whole thing! But not a word of it to her. No wonder those fellows -opened fire, and shot to kill, when they saw their fish-trap being -robbed! But I’d better go mighty slow until I’m sure. There’s -nothing on which to hang any legal peg, so far.”</p> - -<p>Even though the girl’s theory was right, even though he found the -men who used this black-and-white flag, any accumulation of legal -evidence as to the shooting was distinctly improbable. Hardrock -recognized this clearly. At the same time, he felt confident that he -had hit upon one solution of the whole enigma—a solution which -promised to be highly interesting, even more so than writing a -textbook for mining engineers.</p> - -<p>Planked whitefish, fresh from the lake, and coffee, and thick bread; -and over the bread, the rich juice of the eternal mulligan, made -this time from the white small-mouth bass that swam around the wreck -down the shore. Thus the two dined together, not gracefully but -well, and by tacit consent avoided the matter of their early talk. -Instead, Hardrock spoke of Danny Gallagher and Arizona, and the -mines, and gradually fell silent and brought the girl to speak of -herself and her life down State, where she had these two years -taught school, and the world outside this narrow horizon of the -Beavers. Two on an island together—and time was not.</p> - -<p>“I stayed in St. James the other night for the dance,” said -Hardrock, filling his pipe for the third time, “hoping you were -there. I knew you down in Arizona, you see.”</p> - -<p>“In Arizona?” Her level blue eyes searched his face, perplexed.</p> - -<p>“Sure. Danny Gallagher had some pictures that were sent him. One was -of you, standing on a wharf—”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” exclaimed the girl. “Why, Hughie took that last summer—”</p> - -<p>“You haven’t changed. How’d you like to see Arizona?”</p> - -<p>She looked at him, met his gravely steady gaze—then sprang suddenly -to her feet and stood looking out at the point. Hardrock caught the -deliberate thud-thud of an exhaust, then saw the big launch turning -the point. He rose.</p> - -<p>“Father’s not in her—yes, he’s lying in the bow!” she exclaimed. -Hughie Dunlevy, at the tiller of the launch, waved his hand to her -and lifted his strong voice as the launch rounded in toward the -sandy stretch.</p> - -<p>“Come aboard, Nelly! Get anything you want to bring—come quick! Your -dad’s hurt.”</p> - -<p>The launch sputtered; her engine died; and she came to a halt with -her nose on the sand a dozen feet from shore. The girl made a -hesitant movement; then Hardrock caught her up in his arms and waded -out to the launch. Dunlevy and the two other men took her from him. -In the bow lay Matt Big Mary, eyes closed.</p> - -<p>“Badly hurt?” asked Hardrock, as his eyes met the hard gaze of -Hughie Dunlevy.</p> - -<p>“No. Knee dislocated, I guess; we’ll run him home. Got caught in a -line and fell over the engine. You been to St. James already?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Hardrock’s gray eyes narrowed. “You’ll find news waiting for -you. Two of your friends shot up—one dead. Whisky-runners did it, -some one said; nobody knows for sure, though.”</p> - -<p>Dunlevy looked startled, then waved his hand.</p> - -<p>“All right. You been havin’ a good time here, I see. So long. When I -come back, you’ll be singin’ another tune.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll expect you,” said Hardrock, and smiled.</p> - -<p>The engine sputtered into life; the launch was shoved out, circled -in a wide arc, and headed south, with Nelly Callahan crouched over -the figure of her father. Once she looked back, lifted an arm, waved -it in farewell to the man on the shore, as though in token of an -unquenched spirit.</p> - -<p>“She’s all right,” said Hardrock to himself. “Independent—not afraid -of ’em. No need to worry about her; real woman all through!”</p> - -<p>He turned to the deserted camp, got the dishes attended to, left -everything shipshape, kicked out the fire-embers, and then made his -way through the brush along the point of land at this northwest tip -of the island. Here, where the bushes thinned out and the land ran -out in little islets, he sank down under cover of the greenery, -filled and lighted his pipe, and lay motionless, watching the empty -waters to north and west and south. Safely tucked away in his pocket -was the little black-and-white pennant of painted canvas.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Now, as he watched the sun glinting on the waves between the point -and Garden Island, where his motorboat had gone down, he -reconstructed in the light of his present knowledge what had taken -place there yesterday morning. He was quite certain, now, that he -recalled seeing that little pennant of canvas sticking out from the -water. Those two recklessly pursuing men from St. James must have -seen it also, as they drove down upon him. Then, when he had -vanished in the rain to leeward, when after his two shots they -probably thought him dead or drowning, they had put back for that -fish-trap flag. Why? Not because it marked a fish-trap alone, but -because it marked something else of which they knew. And, drawing -down upon that little flag, had been a third craft, unsuspected in -the obscurity.</p> - -<p>“They broke off the flag, were probably fishing up the trap, when -the other chaps appeared and opened fire. Then what? The chances are -a thousand to one that the murderers didn’t wait to get what they -had come for. One doesn’t shoot down a couple of men and then stick -around long. Besides, the flag was gone, and there were heavy -rollers running, and the sheets of rain obscured everything. They -couldn’t hope to find the trap again in all that muck; they’d have -to go away and come back in good weather, when they might locate the -spot by means of landmarks and bearings from shore. Therefore, if my -theory is correct, if they’re really whisky-runners and that little -flag marked a stock of whisky as well as a fish-trap—all I have to -do is to wait. No boat has been up this way all morning. Either I’d -have seen it, or Nelly would have seen it and remembered about it.”</p> - -<p>Conviction grew upon him that he had the right steer by the tail. -Fishermen would not be apt to open deadly fire, even if they caught -other men robbing their traps; but liquor-runners take no chances. -Again he was impressed with the absolutely ideal situation of the -islands—many, like that on which he now lay, uninhabited. East-coast -fishermen could bring in the stuff from the Canadian side and plant -it, and go away again. Other fishermen from the adjacent mainland, -from the upper peninsula, from the Wisconsin shore, could come and -get it. Who would suspect? And if anyone did suspect, as Nelly -Callahan had said, the island men would get the blame. The Beavers -had a reputation for turbulency which was less justified than forced -upon them.</p> - -<p>The afternoon hours waned, and the sun sank, and nothing happened. -Nothing broke the horizon save the big green-and-white fishboat -belonging to the three Danes, coming in from the north and heading -for the settlement on Garden Island, with a swarm of gulls wheeling -and trailing behind her to tell of fish being gutted and nets being -washed. She vanished, and Hardrock rose stiffly, went to his canoe, -shoved out and paddled around the point.</p> - -<p>He sought his own camp and found it undisturbed. As he rolled up in -his blankets that evening, it came to him that he had not yet -settled matters with Matt Big Mary.</p> - -<p>“Good thing!” he murmured. “But I wonder—was he worse hurt than they -said? That yarn didn’t sound very plausible about his falling over -the engine—hm! Should have thought of that before. I don’t like that -fellow Hughie Dunlevy. No matter. Tomorrow’s Sunday, and I’ll keep -quiet—and watch. Good night, Nelly Callahan, and pleasant dreams!”</p> - -<p>He fell asleep, smiling.</p> - -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> - -<p>Sunday on Beaver Island was theoretically a day of devotion. Not -even the mailboat came over from Charlevoix, since there were no -fish-boxes to be transported. It was a day for visiting, for going -to the church down the highway three miles from St. James, for -eating and drinking and talking. The only man on the island who went -his way regardless was old Cap’n Fallows, who was a socialist and -proud of it; but as the old skipper had been here thirty years and -was by this time related to everyone else, he was regarded with -unusual tolerance—a shining bad example of a godless old man, happy -in his iniquity and glorying in his lonesome politics. Also, the -Cap’n was something of a doctor, after a fashion.</p> - -<p>He was in demand this Sunday. Marty Biddy Basset was dead and buried -that day, and Owen John had gone to Charlevoix on the mailboat, -talking in his fever but talking no sense; but down the island by -the old Russian baron’s farm lay Matt Big Mary Callahan, with a hurt -leg and a hurt head. Matt had been struck by a big pile and had -fallen over the engine of the boat, and would not walk again for two -days, so he had gone home to the farm and Cap’n Fallows was -doctoring him with liniment and talk on the rights of man.</p> - -<p>There was much to talk about, and there was a gathering at the store -all day long, while out at Jimmy Basset’s farm the keg of white -liquor grew lower every hour. The Bassets and Dunlevys were taking -counsel here and there, the older heads advising patience, the -younger heads listening to Hughie Dunlevy and his brother Connie, -who was badly bruised but not seriously hurt. Connie was two years -younger than Hughie, and if not so strong, was just about as hard to -kill.</p> - -<p>It was true enough that Vesty Gallagher spoke a word to the priest; -and the priest, who was the only man obeyed by other men on Beaver -Island, passed along the word. Thus it came about that Hardrock -Callahan was accepted as neither a revenue man nor an enemy, and his -affair with the Dunlevy brothers was taken for what it was—a private -matter. Hughie Dunlevy heard of this, and moved cautiously and spoke -softly; but with his brother Connie and four other lads he was -neither cautious nor soft. He and they gathered in Jimmy Basset’s -kitchen that evening and went into the affair at length.</p> - -<p>Among the six of them it was not hard to guess close to the truth. -Connie Dunlevy knew that Marty Biddy and Owen John had gone out in -the launch to catch Hardrock; nobody else knew this, but he knew it, -for he had sent them. And he knew that they, like himself, had been -up and raising deviltry all that Thursday night, and like himself -had been in liquor.</p> - -<p>“They had no guns,” he swore solemnly to Hughie and the other four. -“What would they be havin’ guns for, now? It was this felly Hardrock -that had a shotgun anyhow, and likely carried a pistol.”</p> - -<p>“He told me,” said Hughie, stirring his hot one, “that it was -whisky-runners had shot up the lads.”</p> - -<p>“How’d he know that?” demanded Jimmy Basset. “If they sunk his boat -and he shot ’em, it’s hangin’ he needs. He told ye the tale of -whisky-runners, Hughie, for a blind.”</p> - -<p>“Most like he did,” agreed Hughie. “We’ll have no outlanders comin’ -in here and murderin’ poor helpless lads like them! What story was -told on the mainland about it?”</p> - -<p>A cousin of the dead man spoke up, his face black and gloomy.</p> - -<p>“It was told they had put a box of cartridges into the stove by -mistake. Irene Dunlevy is a nurse in the hospital yonder, and Owen -John’s father did go over wid him, so there’d be no chance of Owen’s -talkin’ to outside ears.”</p> - -<p>“Then the matter’s up to us to settle?”</p> - -<p>“It is that. There’ll be no officers pokin’ their heads into the -island.”</p> - -<p>Hughie sipped his hot one reflectively. They looked to him for -leadership, and he was not backward in accepting the guidon; at the -same time, he was not going to rush headlong into trouble. There had -been altogether too much trouble of late, and any rash actions that -would compel the law to make an investigation would make everybody -on the islands irritated with Hughie Dunlevy.</p> - -<p>“We’ll ’tend to him,” said Hughie. “We’ll give him a dose that’ll -send him away where he come from. I got a little score of my own to -be settlin’ wid him.”</p> - -<p>“So I hear,” said one, and there was a snicker. “What’d he hit ye -wid, Hughie?”</p> - -<p>“Blessed if I know, but he’ll not do it again! You felleys go easy -wid your talk, now. We got other things to mind besides him. I’m -goin’ to cut loose every fish-trap up and down the shores that aint -ours, and if we meet them Cheboygan or Manistique lads, we’ll make -’em like it.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the stuff, Hughie!” came the chorus of affirmation.</p> - -<p>Now Jimmy Basset spoke up, as he limped over to the stove and -refilled the kettle.</p> - -<p>“After church this mornin’ I was talkin’ a bit wid Matz Larsen. Ye -know that little point where his wharf and fish-sheds are, on the -Garden Island shore up beyond his place? He was tellin’ me that on -Thursday mornin’ at the break o’ the storm, him and his boys were -mendin’ nets when they seen a strange boat off the island, cruisin’ -about.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” Hughie’s eyes narrowed. “What sort o’ boat was it?”</p> - -<p>“Green wid a red stripe around the house. A stranger. Up from -Ludington, maybe, or one o’ them ports. It was no Cheboygan boat; -that’s certain.”</p> - -<p>“Well,”—and Hughie stood up,—“it’s time I was off, for I’ve a date. -We’ll go over to Hog Island tomorry night and attend to the lad from -Arizona. We’ll take my big open boat that the resorters use for -fishin’-parties. Jimmy, fetch a quart along to cheer us up. I’ll -have the boat ready as soon as it’s dark.”</p> - -<p>“Then put lights aboard her,” said Connie Dunlevy, “for the -coast-guard has been raisin’ hell wid the lads for carryin’ no -lights.”</p> - -<p>Hughie laughed at that, and swung away. It was little he cared for -the coast-guard.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>So, with all this keeping the island busy, and no boats putting out -that Sunday, and the wind in the east so the tourists could make up -no fishing-parties, there was none to notice the small launch that -came drifting up the channel toward sunset, past the length of the -island, with a man standing in her and waving his shirt as a signal -for help. The coast-guard might have seen her, but it was dark -before she came within sight of the point, and then the channel -current carried her out and on past Pismire Island. So she went on -drifting up between Garden and Hog, and no lights on her, and not a -soul knew of her being around. It was well they did not, for if they -had seen her and had seen the man who was aboard her, there would -have been some tall talk.</p> - -<p>It was Hardrock Callahan who heard the man yell. Hardrock had been -down the island shore in his canoe that afternoon, having grown -tired of waiting for boats that did not come, and had been pulling -bass from around the wreck in Belmore Bay. He kept nothing under -three pounds, and he had sixteen on his string when night came, and -stayed to make it twenty. He was paddling up for the end of the -island in the darkness when he heard a long shout and then another -one coming from the water, and started out to see who was there. -When he sang out and got answered, he paddled up toward the launch.</p> - -<p>“Engine’s broke down and my gas has leaked out,” called the man in -the launch. “I left Charlevoix this morning and have been drifting -up the channel all afternoon. Can you give me a lift?”</p> - -<p>“You bet,” said Hardrock, coming alongside. “No oars aboard?”</p> - -<p>“Nary a sign. What you got there, a canoe? You can’t pull the launch -with that.”</p> - -<p>“You climb aboard and take my other paddle,” said Hardrock, “and -save your breath to work with. Got any grub? No? Then we’ll get -around to my camp and fry some of these bass, and in about an hour -you wont give a cuss whether you get home tonight or not.”</p> - -<p>The other laughed, transferred skillfully to the canoe, and after -making fast a line to the launch, they set out. Neither man spoke as -they slowly worked the dragging launch ahead, got her around the -point, and then down the north shore to Hardrock’s camp.</p> - -<p>“Here we are,” said Hardrock as he headed in. “You might get some of -those bass cleaned while I get the fire started and the skillet hot. -Coffee, too. We can attend to your launch afterward. Better pull her -up out of sight.”</p> - -<p>“Why?” queried the other man.</p> - -<p>“Tell you later.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>The two men observed a mutual reticence until, half an hour -afterward, they were sitting down to their meal. Then the stranger, -who was a grizzled, roughly dressed man with a pair of keen eyes -above a draggled mustache, grinned across the fire and put out his -hand.</p> - -<p>“My name’s Fulsom, and I sure owe you a heap o’ thanks.”</p> - -<p>“Callahan’s mine—Hardrock Callahan.”</p> - -<p>As they gripped, Hardrock noticed that Fulsom looked startled, but -no comment was exchanged. Both men were too hungry to indulge in -needless talk. Not until the last scrap of bass was cleaned up and -the coffee-pot was empty, and pipes were lighted, did Hardrock learn -who his visitor was. Then Fulsom, puffing soberly, eyed him for a -moment and spoke.</p> - -<p>“Hardrock, I’m mighty sorry ’bout all this. Looks to me like luck -was playing hard for both of us. You don’t know what I come over -here for?”</p> - -<p>“I’m not a mind-reader,” Hardrock chuckled. Fulsom threw back his -vest to show a badge pinned to his shirt.</p> - -<p>“I’m the Sheriff o’ this county, and the main reason I come over -here today was to sort of pry around a bit. You aint an island man—I -know ’em all. I’ve knowed ’em for twenty year more or less. Reckon -you’ve heard of the killing the other day?”</p> - -<p>Hardrock nodded reflectively. He liked this sheriff—read the man for -straight and square and unafraid. None the less, in the keen probing -of those eyes he read danger.</p> - -<p>“Yes. Heard about it yesterday in St. James.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Fulsom puffed, spat into the fire, and asked a question.</p> - -<p>“Know anything about it?”</p> - -<p>Despite the careless tone, despite the offhand manner of the -speaker, Hardrock sensed something beneath the surface. He was -astonished by the manner in which he had met Fulsom; yet he was not -astonished that the sheriff had appeared. Fiction to the contrary, -every abnormal detail of life in civilized communities involves a -consequence; for what we call civilization is simply the ways of men -set in a groove, and any departure from that groove brings -investigation.</p> - -<p>With this intangible flash of mind to mind, with this singular -“feel” that something unsaid lay behind that question, Hardrock -considered briefly and then answered it in utmost frankness.</p> - -<p>“Sheriff, if I told you all I knew or thought about it, the chances -are that you’d arrest me.”</p> - -<p>Fulsom gave him a glance, and grinned.</p> - -<p>“I’d have a hell of a job doin’ it, wouldn’t I—not to mention -gettin’ you off to jail?”</p> - -<p>Hardrock broke into a laugh. “Good for you! Here’s what I know.”</p> - -<p>And he told what had happened to him since arriving on Beaver -Island.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Sheriff Fulsom listened to the story without a word, puffing as -methodically after his pipe had smoked out as before; he sat like an -image of bronze, giving no sign of what was passing in his mind. -With such a man Hardrock was at his ease, for he knew now that he -might expect some measure of justice, and not hasty jumping at -conclusions for the sake of political prestige.</p> - -<p>“You got your nerve to tell me all this,” said Fulsom, when he had -finished.</p> - -<p>Hardrock knocked out his pipe and filled it anew. “No witnesses -present. Besides, I figure you as square.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the hell of it—I got to be square all around. You’re under -arrest for that shootin’, Hardrock Callahan.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” Hardrock stared, for the Sheriff had not moved an inch. -“You’re in earnest?”</p> - -<p>“Yep, so far as it goes.” Fulsom wiped his mustache and chuckled. -“Got to do it. I been nosing around the hospital, and heard that -wounded man talkin’ in his fever. Mentioned your name. Now, I’m -right well acquainted with the Beavers—too durned well acquainted to -come over here on business without a posse, unless I come alone. -These lads over here may have their faults, but they’re men clear -through. If I come over alone, I get a square deal. If I come with a -posse, I’m liable to get most anything. Well, now, I come over to -look you up and see what I could learn. And, from hearin’ your -story, looks like it’s my duty to arrest you. Any law officer would -have to do it on the evidence.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said Hardrock whimsically. “Then what? You can’t prove -my story.”</p> - -<p>“Nope. All I figure on is doin’ my duty and breakin’ square with all -concerned. Now, you’re arrested, and charged with murder. You’re in -my custody. You and me understand each other, I guess. I don’t -believe for a minute that things aint exactly as you’ve told ’em to -me, and I figure to stay right here a spell and help you work ’em -out. Let’s see that there fish-flag.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock dived into the tent and looked up the bit of canvas. In his -heart he felt a queer sense of relief, a dropping away of all -oppression. This officer was not to be feared. He was under arrest, -and if nothing turned up, he would have to stand trial, and the -evidence was bound to be bad—yet Fulsom was square, and this counted -for everything.</p> - -<p>“I’m mighty glad we met up,” he said as he came back to the fire. -“And I reckon we do understand each other, Sheriff. Here’s the flag. -Know it?”</p> - -<p>The Sheriff gave it a glance, then laid it down.</p> - -<p>“Yep. Belongs to Johnson Brothers of Ludington. But they aint fished -up around these parts—aint fished at all since last year. Sold out, -lock stock an’ barrel, to some fellows from Escanaba, I heard, who -were carrying on the business. Now, either those fellows are running -nets up this way, which I don’t hardly think is so, or else it’s -like you say—they’re running something else for bigger money. S’pose -you and me go out early in your canoe and look for that fish-trap. -Eh?”</p> - -<p>“You’re on,” said Hardrock cheerfully.</p> - -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> - -<p>The boats went out Monday morning, went out early. They went out -from the St. James harbor and from the scattered holdings on the -other islands, boats of Indians and white men, out to the fishing -grounds where lacy gill-nets and hidden trap-nets and long bloater -lines and other legal and illegal methods of obtaining the finny -prey were put into effect. Boats bobbed here and there against the -horizon of island or sea or reef, and engines whirred as the lifters -brought the nets aboard, while trout and whitefish and perch went -tumbling down into the tubs. There was heavy work to be done, since -the fish must be all cleaned and boxed and in to St. James to make -that afternoon’s mailboat.</p> - -<p>All that morning Hardrock’s canoe bobbed here and there off the end -of Hog Island, with a drag out from bow and stem, countering back -and forth. It was too shallow hereabout for the big fish, and the -waters looked all deserted, with only a sparkling flash of gulls off -the blue line that marked the north end of Garden to show that a -boat was working there beneath the horizon.</p> - -<p>Back and forth they went, and found nothing, though they searched -hard enough for any sign of the black ropes that might mark a trap. -Nothing came near them on the water, excepting a covey of young -ducks that bore down and then wheeled and went flashing away through -the waves in a hurry. With noon, they returned to camp, where the -Sheriff’s launch was drawn safely out of sight among the bushes down -the shore, and lunched leisurely, and then returned again to the -search.</p> - -<p>It was nearly three o’clock when at last they found the trap, and -then only by accident, for one of the drags picked up the mooring -line, and Hardrock hauled the canoe along this until the dim mass of -the trap itself was under the canoe. Fulsom came to his assistance, -since it was no light task to haul in the heavy lines without -tipping the canoe, and together they got it to the surface. They -could see perch in it, and big Bullheads from the mud bottom, and -one lordly yellow sunfish, but no whisky.</p> - -<p>“Hold on!” exclaimed Fulsom, who knew more about traps than did -Hardrock. “Hold her till I get a grip on that mooringline! Now let -go, and catch hold.”</p> - -<p>Now they tugged at the line, and bit by bit worked loose the anchor -down below, and after a time got it on the up-heave. Hardrock was -leaning far over on the line, depending on Sheriff Fulsom to balance -the canoe, and giving his entire attention to the rope below him. -This came heaving up soggily from the depths, and presently -disclosed another line knotted around it and hanging straight down.</p> - -<p>“Thought so!” came the exultant voice of Fulsom. “Haul in on the -short line, now—”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>In another moment the end of this came into sight, and showed a -firmly lashed case of liquor. Hardrock glanced up over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Want it aboard?”</p> - -<p>“If we can get it, yes. No telling how many more cases there are, -but we’ll have to leave ’em for the present. We’ll see what this -is—make sure of it. Looks to me like you needn’t worry about that -murder charge any more. Better move lively, too. Looks like a boat -is heading this way from Beaver. Left my binoculars in camp, so I -can’t tell much.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock could not pause to look—he got the box in under the canoe, -then came the ticklish matter of swinging it aboard. This was -finally accomplished, though at imminent danger of capsizing the -frail craft; then he straightened up for a look at the approaching -boat. It was still half a mile distant, and bearing up between the -islands as though heading for them.</p> - -<p>“Better get in to shore,” said Fulsom. “I aint anxious to be -recognized around here until it’s necessary, the way things are now. -Looks like we got some Canadian Club here, all right—we’ll open her -up and make sure. Set that extry paddle in the trap to mark her -before we go.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock nodded and made fast the paddle so that it floated on the -line from which the whisky-case had been cut, then he headed the -canoe for the point and pushed her hard. Whether that boat was -heading for them or not, he meant to take no chances.</p> - -<p>In ten minutes he was cutting through the shallows inside the point -and was out of sight of the boat. When they came to camp, they -speedily lifted the canoe ashore and in among the trees. Then -Fulsom, obtaining Hardrock Callahan’s woods hatchet, began to pry at -the lid of the whisky-case.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you tampering with evidence?” said Hardrock, chuckling.</p> - -<p>“Who, me? I aint no prohibition officer,” returned the Sheriff -dryly. “No sir, I never voted for no prohibition, but I aim to do my -duty. First thing is to find out if this stuff is whisky or not. -Can’t tell by the box, can’t tell by the label—”</p> - -<p>“The only way is to taste it, eh?” laughed Hardrock. “All right, I’m -with you, and will give expert testimony. Go to it! We can’t afford -to make any mistakes; that’s sure.”</p> - -<p>The case opened, Fulsom produced a bottle, unhurt by its immersion, -and attacked the cork. When this was out, he handed the bottle to -his nominal prisoner.</p> - -<p>“Let’s have your verdict, Hardrock!”</p> - -<p>The latter tasted the contents, and grimaced. “It’s the stuff,” he -returned, handing back the bottle. The Sheriff promptly tilted it, -and held it tilted until his breath was gone. Then, gasping, he -lowered it, and replaced the cork.</p> - -<p>“Gosh, that’s good!” he observed. “Wisht I could keep the whole -bottle.”</p> - -<p>“Go ahead.”</p> - -<p>“Nope.” He slid it back into the case. “I could sort of ease my -conscience by havin’ an excuse for one drink to make certain what -the stuff was. And I sure made that drink a good one! But any more’d -be stealin’ evidence, which I don’t aim to do. S’pose you slip out -to the shore and keep an eye on that there boat. Maybe she’s the one -we’re lookin’ for. I’ll lay up out o’ sight till I see who it is.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Smiling to himself at the odd conceit of the Sheriff, whose -regretful devotion to duty was indubitably sincere, Hardrock left -the cover of the trees and returned to his clearing. He was just in -time to see the launch which they had observed come circling around -the point and head in. To his astonishment, he saw the figure of -Nelly Callahan standing in the bow, while another figure aft was -tending the engine.</p> - -<p>The girl waved to him eagerly, while her companion, a young fellow -no more than a boy, shut off the engine and let the boat run in -until her nose touched the sand. By the flush of excitement in the -girl’s face, Hardrock guessed that she carried news of some kind. -She jumped ashore, then turned and waved her hand at the boy.</p> - -<p>“Hardrock, this is Tom Boyle Gallagher’s boy Micky—Vesty Gallagher -was sending him over to find you, so I came along to bring the -message myself. I knew more about it than Vesty did, anyway, because -I heard Hughie Dunlevy talking to Father last night—”</p> - -<p>“All right,” cut in Hardrock. “Wait just a minute, will you? Come -ashore, Micky. Got any gasoline aboard?”</p> - -<p>“Ten gallon in the tank still,” said the boy, grinning.</p> - -<p>“Know anything about engines?”</p> - -<p>“He knows all about ’em,” broke in the girl. “Why?”</p> - -<p>“I have a launch down the shore that I’d like to have him look over. -She’s down by that clump of sumach, Micky, drawn up. See if you can -find the trouble, will you? We may have to put her into the water.”</p> - -<p>“Sure,” and Micky started off. Hardrock turned to the girl, smiling.</p> - -<p>“Excuse me for the interruption, but I had a bit of news too, and -didn’t want him to overhear. Now come and sit down and tell me -what’s on your mind.”</p> - -<p>They sat down together on a fallen log at the edge of the clearing, -and Hardrock got his pipe alight.</p> - -<p>“Two things,” said the girl, “or maybe three,” and she laughed. -“First, Hughie and some of his friends are coming over here tonight. -I heard him tell Father they meant to drive you away, and send you -back to Arizona.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock, thinking of the Sheriff among the trees, broke into a -hearty laugh.</p> - -<p>“Go on,” he said after a minute. “Go on! What next?”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t that enough? Vesty got wind of it, and sent Micky off to warn -you. There’s no telling what they’ll do, really—and it’s nothing to -laugh about!”</p> - -<p>“It will be, I promise you,” and Hardrock chuckled. “Not for them to -laugh about, though. Don’t mention it to anyone, for he doesn’t want -it known—but Sheriff Fulsom is over there in the trees now. It’s his -launch that is down the shore. I picked him up last night—he was -drifting up the channel, disabled and out of gas. He and I are -working on this business, and we’ve already proved my ideas right by -finding that fish-trap and a case of whisky with it. There are other -cases at the same spot, probably.”</p> - -<p>She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Oh, good!” she exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“And I don’t forget that I owe the tip to you, either,” he went on. -“Well, what next?”</p> - -<p>“Hughie thinks that you did the shooting, but he isn’t sure. He told -Father that a strange launch had been seen around here—a green boat -with a red stripe running around the house. A fishboat. I thought -right away that it might be the one—”</p> - -<p>“Good for you, Nelly Callahan! I’ll bet a dollar she’s the one we’re -looking for. Any further news from the chap who went over to the -hospital?”</p> - -<p>“He’s still between life and death, they said.”</p> - -<p>“Looks bad. Well, what else is on your mind?”</p> - -<p>She looked down at the sand, stirred a branch of ground-cedar with -her foot, colored faintly. Then her eyes, direct and searching, -lifted suddenly to meet his gaze.</p> - -<p>“Nothing.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock frowned. “Something you don’t want to tell me, you mean?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Please don’t ask.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>For a moment Hardrock looked into the troubled depths of her eyes, -and the answer came to him. He remembered his talk with her father; -he could make a shrewd guess at about what that sort of a man would -do and say to the girl.</p> - -<p>“All right, I wont,” he said abruptly. “You remember what we were -talking about when the boat came along and you had to jump in and -go? About Arizona, and you, and Danny’s picture of you. That’s why I -came up here to the Beavers, Nelly. Now let’s not have any -discussion of the question. I don’t want to know what your father -said, or how he may have reported what I said to him. The facts are -that I came here because I had seen your picture, and now that I’ve -met you, I’m going to stay here for a while. I told your father so, -and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Here’s Micky coming back, so -let’s drop the subject until a better time. I’ll be taking you to -the dance Thursday night, as the boys say. What’s the good word, -Micky?”</p> - -<p>The grease-smeared lad grinned widely.</p> - -<p>“Ye can’t run an engine without a spark, can ye? Sure, she’s all -right—I’ve got some extry batteries here and can fix her up in no -time.”</p> - -<p>“But that wont fix the leaky gas tank.” Hardrock looked at the boy’s -boat—an open launch of no great size. “See here, Micky! Could you -run off some gas into that big tin can aboard your boat, and siphon -that into the carburetor, and run my launch into the harbor? If you -can, there’s a ten-dollar bill for you. Leave your boat here and -I’ll rent it until you can get my tank soldered up.”</p> - -<p>“You bet!” exclaimed the youth eagerly. “Half an hour and I’ll have -her in shape. You going back with me, Nelly?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and hurry up,” said the girl. “We don’t want to be out all day -and night.”</p> - -<p>Between them, Hardrock and Micky got the Sheriff’s launch back into -the water, and the boy fell to work. There was no occasion to -construct a siphoning arrangement, for he discovered that the leak -lay in the piping connections, and stopped it temporarily with some -soap. When he had run five gallons of gasoline into the tank and -turned over the engine, it functioned perfectly.</p> - -<p>“Hop in, Nelly!” he sang out. “We’ll get back ’fore dark.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you for coming over, dear girl,” said Hardrock, as he gave -Nelly a hand and helped her into the boat. “If I don’t come around -before then, I’ll see you Thursday night. Good-by, and good luck!”</p> - -<p>“Good-by,” she answered quietly. Then, as the boat circled out from -shore, he saw her turn a laughing face, and lift her fingers to her -lips, blowing him a kiss. For a moment he stood astounded, then a -laugh broke from him, and a long shout.</p> - -<p>“I may not wait until Thursday—after that!” he called, and she waved -her hand in farewell. Then the launch was drawing around for the -point, and passed from sight.</p> - -<p>Sheriff Fulsom appeared from the bushes, and he regarded Hardrock -with twinkling eyes.</p> - -<p>“Gosh, ye look right happy over something!” he commented dryly. -“Say, this was a good job ye done, too—got us a launch all -shipshape! They’ll recognize my launch over to St. James, but no -matter. Nobody’ll see it until tomorrow anyhow.”</p> - -<p>“You heard what she told me?” demanded Hardrock. The Sheriff nodded.</p> - -<p>“Yep. I don’t know that boat, but no matter. She’s our meat, I -reckon, if she’ll only come and pick up that shipment o’ case goods! -But what about them fellows coming over here tonight?” His shrewd -gaze inspected Hardrock gayly. “Looks to me like you and Dunlevy are -bound to fight it out, young fellow!”</p> - -<p>Hardrock chuckled. “We should worry about what happens tonight. I’m -your prisoner and if you don’t protect me— Hello! Sheriff, where are -your binoculars? Get ’em!”</p> - -<p>“Gone with my launch, durn you! Why? What you lookin’ at?”</p> - -<p>Hardrock, who was staring out to the northeast, drew back from the -shore.</p> - -<p>“Looks to me like our boat—see her? Green, sure enough; can’t tell -about the red stripe. Get back out of sight, Fulsom. Here—help run -this launch up a little first! Move sharp. They mustn’t suspect -anyone is here. Can you make her out?”</p> - -<p>“Yep. That’s her,” affirmed Fulsom confidently. “Go get your -shotgun, Hardrock.”</p> - -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> - -<p>The round ball of the sun was hanging low above the purple line of -Garden Island in the west, and the breeze was down until there was -hardly a ripple on the water. From cover of bushes along the point, -Hardrock and Fulsom watched that green fishboat, a red stripe -running broadly around her, spin past the point and round it, and -head for the floating paddle that marked the whisky-cache.</p> - -<p>“She’s fast,” said the Sheriff appraisingly. “Built for the work. -She came up from the south, all right, followed the channel through -past Gray’s Reef as though going to the straits, then cut straight -west and headed here. She wasn’t taking any chances by coming up -past Beaver.”</p> - -<p>“What’s your program?” demanded Hardrock.</p> - -<p>“Get out in that launch, and get quick. You got your shotgun, I’ve -got my pistol. She’ll let us come alongside, and we’ll grab her, -that’s all. No time to waste. You’re my deputy—swear!”</p> - -<p>“I swear,” said Hardrock, and laughed. “Making a prisoner into a -deputy—”</p> - -<p>“Oh hell, shove along! We got to move fast. I aim to catch her with -the goods.”</p> - -<p>They hurried back along the shore and ran out the open launch. -Fulsom gave his automatic pistol to Hardrock, took the shotgun, and -scrambled into the bow.</p> - -<p>“You ’tend the engine. We’ll get ’em back here and put ’em through -the third degree separate. Don’t say a word about the murder. Leave -me to handle it.”</p> - -<p>“With pleasure.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>The engine spat and coughed and puffed, and presently they were -slipping out past the long point. The green fishboat had halted at -the fish-trap. She was a boat of fair size, housed over except for -foredeck, after-deck, and a narrow strip along the sides. The after -end of this house was wide open. Forward on each side were wide -openings where the lifter brought in nets and fish.</p> - -<p>Just now, however, two men were at work forward in the bow, hauling -in better prey than fish. Several cases were piled up, and they were -getting another case aboard. A third man appeared in the stern, -stared at the launch, and called to his companions. All three -turned, watching her.</p> - -<p>Hardrock headed as though to bear up past them for Beaver Island and -waved his hand, to which they made no response. The man from aft had -ducked out of sight, reappearing on the foredeck with the others. As -Fulsom was apparently at work on something and not interested, the -whisky-runners evinced no alarm. Then, when he was opposite their -boat and a hundred feet distant, Hardrock shoved the tiller hard -down and swung in toward her.</p> - -<p>One of the three waved his arm and shouted:</p> - -<p>“Git away! Sheer off! We don’t want no visitors.”</p> - -<p>Sheriff Fulsom straightened up, pointed down, and shouted something -indistinguishable. Hardrock held on his course. Again the leader of -the three waved them off, this time with added oaths. Fulsom -grinned.</p> - -<p>“Got something to show ye! Look here—look at this!”</p> - -<p>The Sheriff leaned forward as though to drag something up to sight, -then came up with the shotgun leveled. The other boat was now not -thirty feet distant.</p> - -<p>“Stand quiet and put your hands up! You’re under arrest. Hands up, -durn ye!”</p> - -<p>The whisky-runners were caught entirely unawares. This boat, -obviously an island boat, with only two men in her, had been -unsuspected; while to lake-farers any talk of arrest among the -Beavers was in itself ludicrous. There was nothing ludicrous about -Fulsom or the way he handled his shotgun, however, and after one -surprised oath the astonished and dismayed trio put up their hands.</p> - -<p>“Run her alongside,” said the Sheriff to Hardrock. “Then go aboard -and disarm ’em. Go through her for guns. You three gents roost high -and quiet, or I’ll blow daylight into ye.”</p> - -<p>“What’s this for, anyhow?” demanded the leader. He was a big, -lantern-jawed fellow marked with a scar across his cheek. His two -comrades were swarthy men, whom Hardrock took to be Greeks or -kindred foreigners. Who are you, holdin’ us up this way?”</p> - -<p>“Sheriff,” and Fulsom put up one hand to display his star. “All -right, Hardrock.”</p> - -<p>As the two craft came into each other, Hardrock jumped aboard the -larger boat and made fast a line. The sight of the officer’s badge -had disconcerted the trio, and they offered only sullen curses as he -swiftly went through them. From two of them he removed heavy -automatics, which he tossed into his own craft. The third man was -unarmed.</p> - -<p>Crawling through the forward opening of the deck-house, Hardrock -paused in surprise. There was no lifter in sight, no nets were -aboard, nor fish. Under him was a pile of a dozen whisky-cases, the -white wood all brown and soggy with water, which had evidently been -picked up at some other point in the course of the afternoon. A -quick search sufficed to show that no rifles or other weapons were -in evidence, and he returned to the foredeck.</p> - -<p>“Nothing aboard but whisky, Sheriff, and plenty of that,” he called. -“They loaded another cache aboard before coming here.”</p> - -<p>“Right thoughtful of ’em,” said Fulsom grimly, and moved back into -the stern, after tossing the captured weapons ahead of him. “You -three birds hop down into the bow, here. Come along, now, and no -talk.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t we fix this up, Sheriff?” demanded the leader. “We got some -money—”</p> - -<p>“Now I’ll soak you for attempted bribery,” snapped Fulsom. “Git -down!”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>Cursing anew, the scar-faced leader got into the bow of the open -launch, and his two comrades followed him. Fulsom looked up at -Hardrock.</p> - -<p>“Cast off that anchor in her bows and make sure the line’s fast. -Give her the len’th. Good holdin’ ground here, and she’ll drift in -toward the shore and set pretty. No wind comin’ up tonight, anyhow. -I got two pair o’ handcuffs at camp, and when we get these birds -fixed up and have supper, we can figger what to do next.”</p> - -<p>The three “birds” looked decidedly unhappy. The two Greeks began to -talk in their own language, until the Sheriff peremptorily shut them -up. Hardrock, meantime, dumped the big anchor over the bows of the -green fishboat, watched the line run out until it drew taut, and -then climbed back into his own borrowed craft. The sun was just -sinking from sight.</p> - -<p>“Back to camp?” he asked, and Fulsom nodded assent.</p> - -<p>The engine started up, and the boat circled out for the point, the -Sheriff standing amidships with his shotgun ready. The three -prisoners, crowded on the bow thwart, showed no symptoms of putting -up any fight, however.</p> - -<p>“Simplest thing on earth,” said Fulsom calmly, “is to handcuff a -gent with his arms around a sapling. We’ll do that with two of these -birds, and interview the third—give ’em turn and turn about at it. -And we’ll keep ’em at far separated trees. And no supper. Make ’em -talk better, hungry.”</p> - -<p>As they were perhaps meant to do, these words reached and stung the -trio. After a rapid-fire exchange of Greek, the leader turned -around.</p> - -<p>“This aint legal!” he exclaimed savagely. “You aint got no warrant—”</p> - -<p>“I got a shotgun,” said the Sheriff, a cold glint in his eyes, “and -you’ll taste it if you get gay. So turn around there and set easy. -We aint ready for you to talk yet awhile.”</p> - -<p>The boat was around the point and heading in for the shore. -Hardrock, one hand on the tiller, swept her directly in toward the -clearing, threw out the clutch, and after a moment threw it into -reverse. With hardly a jar, the prow of the boat came into the -ground a couple of feet from shore, weighted down as it was by the -three prisoners.</p> - -<p>“Now, then,” ordered Fulsom, “you birds hop out and draw her up. -Don’t any of you make a break, or I’ll pepper your hides!”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>The big leader, with a growled oath, obeyed the order. There was no -sand at the water’s edge, the beach being composed of small stones, -which farther back ran into sand. The two Greeks likewise got out. -The leader took the prow, each of the Greeks seized the gunnel, and -they drew up the launch until the bow was on the shingle.</p> - -<p>“Now you, Hardrock,” commanded the Sheriff. “Never mind the -guns—I’ll ’tend to ’em. Run over to my pile of stuff and fetch the -handcuffs, will you?”</p> - -<p>“Sure.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock stepped past the Sheriff and jumped ashore.</p> - -<p>At the same instant, the big leader stooped; and the two Greeks -shoved outward on the boat with all their power. Fulsom, caught -unawares by the tremendous lurch of the boat, lost his balance, -dropped the shotgun, and reeled for an instant. The leader hurled a -chunk of rock that struck the staggering man squarely in the side of -the head and sent him down like a shot.</p> - -<p>The whole thing passed off swiftly, neatly, with increditable -precision and accuracy. Even as Hardrock whirled about from his -spring, Fulsom was down and the launch was darting out twenty feet -from shore.</p> - -<p>Then he found all three men on top of him. One of the Greeks came -first, and went sprawling in the water as Hardrock’s fist met his -face. The second Greek lunged in from one side, a knife in his hand, -and took a kick under the chin that laid him senseless, but the -leader was hurling himself forward and Hardrock could not evade. -Caught in a burly grip, arms locked, both men went down, thrashing. -Even then, had matters been equal, Hardrock would have won out, for -with a twist he came up on top and rammed a fist into the scarred -face—but just then the first Greek swung a stone that laid the man -from Arizona prostrate. Dazed and almost senseless from the blow, -Hardrock keeled over, and before he could recover he was pinned down -under both opponents.</p> - -<p>“Tie him up!” growled the leader, and two minutes later Hardrock was -bound hand and foot, while the Greek stooped over his unconscious -comrade and the burly leader stood laughing and panting. He grinned -down at Hardrock.</p> - -<p>“So that’s what we think of you and your blasted Sheriff!” he -declared. “We’ll let him float to Mackinac, if he aint dead. By the -time he gits back here, we’ll sure be on our way. Got a good camp -here, aint you? Guess we’ll git us a bite to eat ’fore we bring up -our boat and beat it.”</p> - -<p>For a little, however, the man had his hands full. The groaning -Greek, revived by his compatriot, retrieved his knife and flung -himself on the bound captive; the leader interfered, and the trees -resounded to bellowed oaths and orders and imprecations. Hardrock, -helpless to move, watched and listened grimly. At length the -arguments of the leader took effect.</p> - -<p>“And ye don’t want to be the same damned fools ye were before, do -ye?” concluded the wrathful leader. “We don’t want to be trailed for -murder! Leave him be. We’ll fix him so’s he can’t hurt us none—and -we wont murder him neither. Ye may think ye can pull a stunt like -that more’n once, and get away with it; but ye can’t. How d’ye know -that there Sheriff didn’t want ye for the other shootin’, hey?”</p> - -<p>The sullen Greek acquiesced, put away his knife, and all three men -stamped away up to the camp. Darkness was gathering upon the waters, -but Hardrock no longer stared after the rapidly vanishing boat that -was drifted off along the shore and toward the open lake. Those -words of the leader were dinning in his brain. He knew now who had -shot down those two boys from St. James.</p> - -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> - -<p>It was perhaps five minutes afterward, while some tins of food were -being opened, that the three whisky-runners realized they had -committed an error. Their leader, whose name appeared to be Marks, -was the one who realized it most keenly. He came down to the shore, -stared off in the gathering darkness at the boat, now a mere speck -in the dusk, and cursed fervently. The shotgun had gone into the -lake, and their pistols had all floated away with poor Fulsom. -Hardrock chuckled.</p> - -<p>“You fellows turn me loose,” he offered, “and I’ll tell you where -there’s a boat laid up down the shore.”</p> - -<p>Marks turned away. “You’ll tell more’n that ’fore we’re through with -you. Shut up!”</p> - -<p>The three gathered again about their food, getting a fire lighted -and in their clumsy ignorance of the woods heaping on fuel until the -yellow flames were leaping high and far. Over such a fire, any -cookery was impossible, and Hardrock chuckled at their profane -efforts to make coffee without getting the pot too hot to be -handled.</p> - -<p>He, meantime, while apparently motionless and helpless, was in -reality hard at work. He lay, half sitting, against a log between -fire and shore, at the clearing’s edge, arms bound behind him. He -had been tied up with the first thing to hand—bandanna handkerchiefs -produced by the Greeks, and had made the gratifying discovery that -the material was old and would tear easily. Therefore he was tearing -it, against the log at his back, and by the increasing looseness -knew that his wrists were nearly free.</p> - -<p>Marks conferred at length with his companions, who were obviously -taking their orders from him, and presently the two Greeks rose and -stamped off into the darkness along the shore, going toward the -point. Marks himself rolled a cigarette and came toward Hardrock.</p> - -<p>“If you’re going to starve me,” said the latter, “you might at least -starve me on a smoke. Look out your friends don’t get lost.”</p> - -<p>Marks laughed easily. “I’ll get you some coffee and a smoke,” he -replied, “if you’ll talk. Will you? Or shall I make you?”</p> - -<p>“Sure thing,” exclaimed Hardrock. “It’s a bargain. And cut me -loose.”</p> - -<p>“Not much,” retorted the other, and went back to the fire, where he -poured out a tin cup of coffee.</p> - -<p>Hardrock seized the instant. His arms came free. Swiftly he got a -hand into his pocket—thus far, they had not searched him except for -weapons—and slid out his pocketknife. His arms again in place behind -him, he opened a blade of the knife, and waited. One cut at his -ankles, and he would be free. Without that cut, he dared take no -chances, tempting as the occasion now was.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>For Marks now came back to him, held the lukewarm coffee to his lips -as he drank, then gave him the cigarette and held a match to it. -Sitting down and wiping sweat from his face, for it was hot near -that big fire, the burly ruffian rolled himself another cigarette. -He was almost within arm’s reach of Hardrock—yet the latter -controlled himself. Until his feet were free he must attempt -nothing.</p> - -<p>“Now let’s have it,” said Marks. “I didn’t want them two lard-eaters -to get wise. What was it the Sheriff wanted to give us the third -degree about?”</p> - -<p>“About the shooting you fellows pulled off last time you were here.”</p> - -<p>Marks nodded, a frown darkening his scarred features. Evidently he -had anticipated this information.</p> - -<p>“Aint it hell how ye can’t make foreigners savvy anything?” he -demanded, to the astonishment of Hardrock. “Them two fellers have -just one notion o’ fighting—to take a gun and kill somebody! I’ll -have to let ’em go. I can’t make ’em savvy that there’s a durned -sight more danger in a murder charge than in running liquor.”</p> - -<p>“You mean they’re working for you?”</p> - -<p>“Yep. The blamed fools run on them Beaver men the other day, found -’em lifting the trap out yonder, and riddled ’em—then let ’em go. -That’s a fool Greek everytime. I wasn’t along, dog-gone it! I was in -Escanaba, sick that day, and ye can’t get nothin’ on me. I got to -stand by them fellers, o’ course, and get ’em away safe, but I don’t -like it a mite. This sort o’ killing is bad business.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock laughed curtly. “What about the Sheriff?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, him! He’s a Sheriff, takin’ chances. Same with you—depity, aint -ye? Yep. He aint killed, though. He’ll drift over in the channel -and’ll get picked up by a barge. We’ll run ye out to Gull Island and -leave ye there with some grub. That’s decent all around. A fight is -one thing, and killin’ is another thing. I been running booze a year -now, and never had a speck o’ trouble before this. Durn them -hot-headed Greeks! They’ve spoiled the best little game this side -the Soo.”</p> - -<p>“You’re sure frank about it,” said Hardrock dryly.”</p> - -<p>“Why not? I want you should understand it; I aint anxious to be -follered up for a killin’ I didn’t do! Bad enough to have my -business busted up. Now I got to land this cargo and then go -somewheres else. Dog-gone it! I hope they pass them immygration laws -an’ do it quick. A feller can’t make an honest livin’ no more, the -way these durned foreigners are everywhere.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock broke out laughing. Marks surveyed him darkly.</p> - -<p>“Ye may think it’s funny, but I don’t. It aint the law so much, -neither. It’s these durned islanders! They’re all over the lakes, -them or their relations. If they take the notion it was me -responsible for the killin’, they’ll drive me off the lakes, that’s -what.”</p> - -<p>The man’s viewpoint was irresistible, and Hardrock laughed the -harder, while Marks sucked at his cigarette and glowered angrily. -Then came the “chug-chug” of a gas engine, and a low call from the -darkness. Slowly the shape of the green fishboat drifted in upon the -shore and then halted as her bows hit the shallows ten feet from the -beach.</p> - -<p>“They had to swim to get her, anyhow!” exclaimed Marks. “The durned -fools needed a bath.” He rose and went past Hardrock to the shore. -“Hey, boys! Toss that anchor ashore so’s she wont drift off. We’ll -get away pretty quick, now.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock moved his arm, and the little blade of the penknife flashed -in the firelight as he slashed the bonds about his ankles. He was -free, now—but he must let them all get ashore. His only chance, -against the three of them, was to get their boat and leave them -here. It was a time for strategy, rather than for fighting; so, at -least, he thought. He was to discover his mistake very shortly.</p> - -<p>The two Greeks came ashore, bearing a line. It appeared that they -had cut loose the anchor rather than haul it in. There ensued a -furious storm of oaths from Marks; the two men became ugly, and for -a moment it looked as though a row were imminent. Then Marks cooled -down, and told them to get some of the supplies from Hardrock’s tent -aboard the boat. All three passed up to the tent, none of them -observing that the captive was no longer bound.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>This was the opportunity Hardrock had been praying for, and he -gathered his muscles. Once he could shove out that boat and scramble -aboard her, he had everything in his own hands! He drew up his feet, -saw that the three men were busily engaged with his supplies, and -rose—</p> - -<p>While he was in the very act of rising, a voice boomed out among the -trees at the clearing’s edge:</p> - -<p>“There’s Callahan and his whole crowd—git ’em all, lads! Take ’em!”</p> - -<p>Hardrock was already springing for the water, but a figure appeared -and blocked him. It was the figure of Hughie Dunlevy. Instantly, -Hardrock realized what had happened, and cursed the luck that had -brought the Beaver lads here at this moment. From the brush was -going up a crash of feet and wild yells, Marks was bellowing, the -Greeks were cursing and fighting—beyond a question, Dunlevy thought -that they were part of a gang under the direction of Hardrock -Callahan.</p> - -<p>There was no time for any explanations. The man from Arizona barely -had a chance to check his leap for the water, to spring back and -gain balance, when Dunlevy was upon him with a roar of battle-fury -and a whirl of fists.</p> - -<p>“Ye will murder poor lads, will ye?” he yelled, and struck.</p> - -<p>Hardrock ducked the blow and answered it with a smash to the wind -that stopped Hughie Dunlevy for an instant. Glancing around, -Hardrock was aware of the three whisky-runners by the tent, -furiously engaged with four or five other men. He and Dunlevy were -for the moment alone. Only a glance—then he was driving at his -opponent, hoping still to get out and aboard the boat.</p> - -<p>That hope seemed vain. A wild swing caught Hardrock under the jaw -and knocked him ten feet away; Dunlevy was after him instantly, -leaping high in air to come down upon him boots first. He came down -only on the shingle, however; and the man from Arizona, evading a -savage kick, reached his feet and began to fight.</p> - -<p>Hughie Dunlevy gasped and grunted as the blows smashed into him, -while before him in the firelight danced that unhurt face with its -blazing eyes and its furious unleashed anger. For all his tremendous -strength, the islander helplessly gave ground, was driven backward, -fists driving into him with relentless accuracy. In vain he tried to -grapple, to kick, to gouge—each attempt failed and only drew upon -him another terrific smash under the heart.</p> - -<p>Wanned as he was by white liquor, having great strength in place of -stamina, Dunlevy could not stand up under this battering. Never once -did Hardrock strike for the face, but drove in fists like hammers -that pounded heart and stomach in frightful repetition.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>On the other side of the fire, one Greek was thrashing over the -ground with Jimmy Basset pounding him into submission. Connie -Dunlevy was down, trying to quench a knife slash that ran from -shoulder to elbow. The other three island men were battering Marks, -who was badly hurt and groaning as he fought, and the second Greek -whose knife flashed crimson in the firelight. Now Marks gave way and -came crashing down, and the snarling Greek reeled as a stone smashed -into his face.</p> - -<p>Hardrock got home to the wind with one direct punch that sent Hughie -Dunlevy two steps backward and brought down his hands—drove in -another that rocked him, and then set himself deliberately for the -finish. His feet shifting perfectly to keep balance, he now put over -a light tap to the mouth, and then laughed.</p> - -<p>“How d’ye like it, Hughie? Come and get it, boy, come and get it—”</p> - -<p>With a gasping bellow of anguished fury, the other obeyed, rushed -blindly into the blow that Hardrock smashed in with full force—a -perfect solar-plexus knockout. Dunlevy simply doubled up and rolled -to the ground.</p> - -<p>Two leaps took Hardrock to the boat. As he splashed through the -water, wild yells chorused up behind him, and he glanced around to -see dark figures bounding after him. He set himself against the -heavy bow of the boat and shoved—vainly. He could not budge her. -Desperate, he gave up the attempt and with a leap was dragging -himself over her rail.</p> - -<p>Too late! They were upon him, three of them; that effort to shove -her off had lost him his fighting chance. Mad with battlelust and -moonshine whisky, they dragged him back and bore him down, all three -hurtling in upon him bodily, careless of his blows, so that only -they might land blows upon him. Slipping on the stones, he lost -balance, went down, was stamped into the knee-deep water—</p> - -<p>That was all he knew, for a time.</p> - -<p>Presently, half strangled and exhausted, Hardrock came to himself -again. This time he found ankles and arms fast lashed by men who -knew how to handle ropes. Beside him lay one of the Greeks, dark -features masked by blood, beaten senseless and bound; the other -Greek lay farther away, muttering low curses.</p> - -<p>Hardrock realized that some terrible sound had dragged him to life, -and now it came once more—a low scream of agony. His head cleared -slowly, as he visualized the scene before him. In the circle of -firelight lay Hughie Dunlevy, still unconscious, and by him sat his -brother Connie, weak and white and rather drunk, his arm all swathed -in crimsoned bandages.</p> - -<p>The other four men, by the fire, held the frantically struggling -figure of Marks, and were shoving his feet into the red embers. From -the man broke another scream, this time rising shrill with pain and -horror.</p> - -<p>“Quit it! Quit it! I’ll tell!”</p> - -<p>“Then talk, ye domned murderer,” growled Jimmy Basset. “Pull him out -and give him a drink to make him talk, lads—”</p> - -<p>The groaning Marks waited for no drink. “It was them Greeks done -it!” he cried desperately. “I wasn’t along with ’em, I tell ye! It -was them two done it!”</p> - -<p>“All right,” snapped Bassett, lurching a little as he glared down at -the captive. “And what about this Hardrock felly? Is he your boss?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know him,” returned the unfortunate Marks.</p> - -<p>“Shove him in again, lads—”</p> - -<p>Marks screamed and twisted terribly. “No, no! Yes, he’s my boss. -Sure he is.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you fools know a man will swear to anything under torture?” -demanded Hardrock furiously. “You’re going too far here. Cut this -business out!”</p> - -<p>Marks was hastily flung aside. They all turned to stare at him. -Connie Dunlevy, waving a bottle in his free hand, gave a weak, -drunken laugh.</p> - -<p>“Glory be, he’s awake! Burn the boots off’m him, byes!”</p> - -<p>The four lurched over. Hardrock made one desperate effort to pierce -through the liquor fumes to their fuddled brains.</p> - -<p>“Hold on, there, boys! You’ve got this thing all wrong. These men -are whisky-runners, and they had captured me before you came along. -I was getting away—”</p> - -<p>Jimmy Basset leaned over and struck him across the mouth, heavily.</p> - -<p>“Shut up wid you and your lies! Well we know it’s you that’s the -whisky-runner, and behind all this deviltry. So it was them Greeks -done the killin’, was it? Well, it was you behind it all, and it’s -you we’ll have a bit o’ fun wid the night. Up wid him, lads! Up and -shove him in!”</p> - -<p>Hardrock felt himself picked up. The next instant, with a wild yell, -the four men shoved him at the fire, shoved his feet and legs into -the heart of the blazing embers. He made one frantic, frightful -effort, kicked himself out of the flames, rolled aside. The four -gripped him and lifted him again, with a maudlin yell of glee.</p> - -<p>“All together, now!” howled Basset.</p> - -<p>“One, two—”</p> - -</div> -<div class='chapter'> -<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> - -<p>As the shot rang out, Jimmy Basset jumped into the air, then stood -staring at his arm that dripped blood. A voice struck on the -silence—a voice from the edge of the trees.</p> - -<p>“All right, boys—hands up all around! Sheriff Fulsom talking, and -two guns to talk with. First man moves gets a bullet in the leg.”</p> - -<p>That crisp, businesslike voice bit into their drunken senses like -acid. Hardrock lay where they dropped him. Sheriff Fulsom stepped -forward into the circle of light, a pistol in each hand, and not one -of the islanders moved, after reaching upward.</p> - -<p>“Cut loose that man Hardrock and do it durned quick. He’s a Deputy -Sheriff of this county, if ye want to know who he is. Cut him loose, -Willy John. Move sharp.”</p> - -<p>One of the men stooped and fumbled with Hardrock’s bonds. They were -all struck silent and were held in a stupefaction of dismay and -consternation by the appearance of Fulsom, whom they all knew. A -sudden and terrible sanity crept upon them.</p> - -<p>“You boys are shoving a good thing too far,” continued Fulsom. -“Hardrock and me got them murderers, and then they jumped us. Lucky -I aint as soft in the head as I look to be, for a fact! Took me -quite a spell to get ashore and come back here, at that. H’are ye, -Hardrock?”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said the latter, getting to his feet.</p> - -<p>“You done some swift action gettin’ out of that fire, sure enough! -Here, take a gun and stretch yourself. All right, boys, put your -hands down. I’m doin’ the talking for a spell—remember that. What’s -the matter with Hughie Dunlevy?”</p> - -<p>“I knocked him out,” and Hardrock chuckled. “Connie got knifed by -one of these Greeks—badly slashed, I think.”</p> - -<p>“All right, Connie, you go climb aboard that there launch, and do it -quick—no talk! Jimmy Basset, go with him. We’ll ’tend to your arm -quick enough; long’s you can move your hand it aint broke. Git!”</p> - -<p>The two men, dazed, obeyed the order and stumbled toward the boat at -the shore. Fulsom looked at the other three, grimly enough.</p> - -<p>“Now, I want you three boys for deputies. We got to take this whisky -boat over to Charlevoix and lock up these birds. Hardrock, got any -information to spill?”</p> - -<p>The man from Arizona briefly recounted what Marks had told him about -the murder by the Greeks. Fulsom comprehended at once, and nodded.</p> - -<p>“All right. Willy John, I s’pose you snuck up here in a boat and -left her laying down the shore?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Willy John, rather sheepishly. “She’s down to Belmore -Bay.”</p> - -<p>“All right. You three deputies take the pris’ners and get aboard. -I’ll rustle up some handcuffs, if you rascals aint lost ’em. -Hardrock, get aboard likewise.”</p> - -<p>Hardrock smiled. “Sorry, Sheriff. Can’t be done.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” Fulsom eyed him sharply. “We got to have your evidence—”</p> - -<p>“You’ll get it. I’ll come over on the mailboat tomorrow.” Hardrock -motioned to the figure of Hughie Dunlevy. “I’ve got a little -business to settle with this chap, first—I may have to convince him -a little more that I’m the better man. Then we’ll have to get his -launch and Micky’s boat back to St. James. And I have a very -important errand there.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” Fulsom broke into a grin. “Oh! So that’s it, eh? That Callahan -girl, eh? Dog-gone you, Hardrock, here’s luck to you! See you later, -then.”</p> - -<p>He went for his handcuffs. Hardrock looked down at the slowly -wakening Hughie Dunlevy.</p> - -<p>“Looks like that textbook for engineers is never going to get -written!” he murmured. “Sure looks that way. I’ve got to convince -this fellow, then I’ve got to convince Matt Big Mary that I’m a good -man to marry his daughter, and then I’ve got to convince the -daughter of the same thing—but, I guess an Arizona Callahan can do -it, by gosh!”</p> - -<p>And he grinned happily.</p> - -<div class='ce'> -<div style='font-size:0.9em;margin-top:1.4em;'>The End </div> -</div> -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARIZONA CALLAHAN ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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