"Guess you wasn't disturbed none at Laval's," sneered Jude and he gave an unpleasant laugh.
"'Twas blasted cold, and I had the devil's time getting enough at night to keep me going by day; but I learned a heap, and I struck your gold mine all right, sonny."
Billy crouched closer, and his breath came thick and fast.
"Gaston. But not for what you think. Jude, he's after you." Jared paused for effect.
"After me?" The ugliness gave place to a dull fear.
"You, my son. He wants you to free Joyce." Evidently this announcement failed to reach Jude's intelligence.
"Free her? Me? What's got you, old man? Didn't she cut, herself?"
"You don't catch on, Jude. He wants to do the big, white thing by the girl--marry her out of hand clean and particular, and he wants to get your word that you won't make any trouble."
A silence followed this. Jude was struggling to digest it; but the result was simple.
"Well, by thunder! Won't he have to pay high for it?"
There was excitement and feverish energy in Jude's voice now.
"Maybe he'll fling a bone to you--but don't you see, son, you can hold off and make him pay, and pay and pay?
"Now tell me, so true as you live, what was _you_ going down to St. Angé for?"
"I was going down to"--Jude hesitated. "Well, I was tired of being hounded, and having to hide and starve. I was going down to get--what--I could--and no questions asked." A foolish laugh followed. Beside Jared's subtlety, Jude seemed a babbling infant with feeble aims.
"Gosh darn it, Jude! It's good I fell across your path again. You might have thrown away the one, great, shining opportunity of your life. Listen to _my_ plans. You better stay where you are, and let me run this here show. I got the tracks all laid out. I'm sort o' inspired where it comes to plotting for them I love. I'm going to write a touching letter to her. It's going to state that Gaston is laid up from an accident in a hut, further up to the north. A lumberman is going to write the letter--catch on? and she's wanted up to Gaston's dying bedside. The lumberman is going to meet her at Laval's. When she's caught safe and sure, Jock Filmer--he's the go-between in all this--will get that information, or the part about her going away, to Gaston; then the game's in our hands. If Gaston means business, he'll pay what _we_ say. If he ain't sharp set as to a big figger, we've got Joyce; and by thunder! who's got a better right? Then we'll make tracks, after the spring freshet, to another place I know of where laws is stationary and folks ain't over keen, and where a handsome woman like Joyce will help. I've got money enough left from the wreck to tide us over, my son--unless Gaston planks down."