Young Dan let that pass with a noncommittal smile, for the word was one which he had somehow overlooked in his explorations into literature. But he felt that it was nothing to be ashamed of if the same could be said of his uncle Bill Tangler.
“And maybe you’re right,” continued Mr. Wallace. “You know the situation and I don’t, so it’s for you to say. As for the scare—if we find that revolver we can scare Watt into totin’ a year’s supply of grub all the way in to the Right Prong of Oxbow on his own fat back. And I reckon he’ll keep the law after we’ve had a chat with him, for he ain’t a fool. He’d sooner keep it along with his freedom than behind stone walls and iron bars, you can betcher hat on that. But there are other sides to the question to be considered. There’s no sense in jumpin’ before we look all round for the dryest place to land. So far you’ve considered nothin’ but Jim Conley’s family’s need of grub and clothes. Well, that’s all right in its way, and as far as it goes—but it will sure encourage Jim Conley to sit at home all day and eat his head off. If he can’t drink he’ll eat. A feller like him has just got to be doin’ something with his mouth all the time; and I reckon he ain’t got brains enough to do much talkin’. If feedin’ his wife and children will make a good citizen out of him, then you’re dead right. But what about Luke Watt? We can scare him into keeping the law as far as bootleggin’ gin is concerned, but we can’t stop him cheatin’ in his trade every chance he gets. We couldn’t make a good citizen of him in a hundred years. And that ain’t all. Not by a long shot! Suppose I nab him in my official capacity, with his number right in my pocket? What’ll folks say about Deputy-Sheriff Archie Wallace then, d’ye think? They’ll say that Deputy-Sheriff Archie Wallace is an all-fired smart, able, slick and deserving officer! Yes, Dan Evans, it will sure mean feathers a foot high in my hat. And what will be said about the young trapper from ’way back in the woods who did the brain-work and took the risk? They’ll say you’re the best detective outside the covers of a book they ever heard tell of. You’ll be a big man with your name in the newspapers—and I’ll be the next high sheriff of this county. That’s my idea.”
“And it is a good idea,” replied Young Dan, reflectively. “It sounds mighty good to me, of course. I’d like fine to see my name in the papers as a detective, but I wasn’t figgering on anything like that. I want to see that woman and her children decently fed. I don’t like her much, mind you—but she’s sure a courageous mother, and I pity her, and so would you if you knew Jim Conley. If we could scare him into earning a living for his family, then I’d certainly like your idea better’n mine.”
“But you ain’t reckonin’ on makin’ Luke Watt support Conley’s wife and kids all the rest of their lives, surely?” returned Mr. Wallace. “That would be goin’ a mite too far with it. He’d sooner go to jail than do that, I wouldn’t wonder. No, that won’t do! You got to make Conley get to work. Philanthropy’s a fine thing, but justice is a fine thing, too.”
“You’re right, Mr. Wallace—and you are the deputy-sheriff. I guess whatever you say goes. All I want to do is scare Jim Conley off of our trap-lines, and help his family, and smash that hound, Luke Watt.”
“Then we’d best sleep on it, an’ have a look for that revolver first thing in the morning,” said the other. “Maybe we’ll hit on a way of reconciling your hunger for philanthropy with my thirst for fame and promotion.”
“They sound as if they’d ought to pull all right in double-harness,” remarked the youth, with that smile which reminded the deputy-sheriff of Bill Tangler.
The deputy-sheriff wakened his guest at the first peep of day; and after breakfast they set out in a red pung behind a long-gaited three-year-old. Young Dan left his skins locked securely away in one of Mr. Wallace’s closets, with the understanding that Wallace would ship them to an honest fur-dealer immediately upon his return from the present expedition. This arrangement would be sure to prove advantageous to Young Dan and his partner, for Archie Wallace, as deputy-sheriff of the county, would obtain a higher price for the furs than a private trapper could possibly make any buyer consider reasonable. They stopped near the scene of the trapper’s swift and violent encounter with the storekeeper from Bean’s Mill, slipped on their snowshoes and entered the slanting field. Mr. Wallace regarded the deep marks of the struggle with chuckles of satisfaction. Then Young Dan led him about thirty yards away to a very small cut in the snow and dug up Luke Watt’s revolver. He handed the weapon to Wallace, who wiped it off, tied it up carefully in his handkerchief and stowed it away in his pocket.
