Red Jacket Read Online Free PDF

Russian is upstairs in your bed, and there’s no time. Make the call for me. Please.”
    Widow Frei went to her telephone and cranked it several times, made the call, and hung up.
    She turned to Bapcat: “No answer. Doctors are such busy men. We’ll have to keep trying. Why do you repeatedly insist on such lame logic, my dear Mr. Bapcat?”
    She flipped the front window sign from open to closed and pulled him into a storeroom where she had assembled a cot. She peeled her dress over her head and lay down, smiling. “Let us be about our business anon, Trapper Bapcat. There are paying customers to look after.”

6
    Eagle River, Keweenaw County
    SATURDAY, MAY 17, 1913
    Sheriff John Hepting did not seem surprised to see Bapcat. “Valo was out of sorts when he got back,” the sheriff said, hiding a smile. “You two have words?”
    â€œI just said things plainly to your man. Did Big Louie Moilanen get on safely to the south?”
    â€œHe did,” Hepting said, “though Valo seems unable or unwilling to explain your concern.”
    â€œMoilanen showed up at my shack naked as Eden and looking for his duds and his Bible.”
    Sheriff Hepting’s left eyebrow arched slightly. “Any idea what the problem was? Tippling?”
    â€œI don’t think so, John. He seemed confused but mostly rational by the time I saw him, but I have to say what I saw disturbs me.”
    â€œI called down to Doc Kochendorfer to let him know you wanted him to have a look at the giant. Can’t say he did or didn’t. You here for the night?”
    â€œGot to catch the next train to Red Jacket.”
    â€œNothing to do back at camp?”
    â€œPlenty, but some things take priority.”
    â€œThe Roosevelt trial?”
    â€œHard to keep secrets up here,” Bapcat complained.
    â€œI won’t argue the veracity of that statement. How long you think you’ll be gone?”
    â€œJohn, how’d Valo know I was a Rough Rider?”
    â€œSaw it in a list in the Houghton paper. Only four of you fellas in the whole state. You come out of the woods once in a while, you’d know.”
    Bapcat grunted. “I don’t even know why I’ve been summoned, but I have to get a doctor up to Copper Harbor to look at Zakov.”
    â€œWhat happened to the Russian?”
    â€œFell in a hole. Broke his leg real bad. An arm, too.”
    Hepting said, “Chaz Frinkois left for Houghton this morning for some sort of meeting. Your best bet is to find Doc Kochendorfer in Red Jacket and see if he can get up the line. Bad breaks?”
    â€œOne on the leg looks bad.”
    â€œBest hurry,” the sheriff said. “Good seeing you, Lute. Don’t be a stranger.”
    Bapcat laughed. “I’ll always be a stranger in towns.”
    â€œThe widow up your way still ruling the roost?”
    Bapcat blinked and cringed.

7
    Red Jacket, Houghton County
    SATURDAY, MAY 17, 1913
    It was well into dark when Bapcat walked from the station down a street lit with electric lights, and made his way to Dominick Vairo’s saloon under the Italian Hall. Thick, choking smoke from mine operations hung over Seventh Street. Mine operations more or less surrounded Red Jacket and kept it clogged with smoke. Wagons clattered and echoed, dogs barked, and automobile motors crackled and popped. The electric lights brought a yellowish brightness the trapper found eerie.
    Bapcat had known Vairo since his return to the Keweenaw, and enjoyed the man’s company. Vairo sent a kid named Gipp to find Dr. Kochendorfer, who came over to the saloon immediately to have a beer with the men.
    Vairo poured one for the messenger, too. The boy was tall and muscled, a handsome, seemingly good-natured lad, and obviously accustomed to tippling.
    Bapcat extended his hand. “Lute Bapcat, trapper.”
    â€œGeorge Gipp, ball player.”
    Bapcat liked the kid, a boy with a man’s