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diff --git a/56999-0.txt b/56999-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f866cf --- /dev/null +++ b/56999-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9792 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 56999 *** + + + + + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Such was Jack Chanty, sprawling on his little raft"] + + + + + JACK + CHANTY + + A Story of Athabasca + + _by_ + + Hulbert Footner + + _Author of_ + + "New Rivers of the North" + "Two on the Trail, Etc." + + GARDEN CITY NEW YORK + DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO. + 1913 + + + + + Copyright, 1913, by + DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + + All rights reserved, including that of + translation into foreign languages, + including the Scandinavian + + Copyright, 1913 by + FRANK A. MUNSEY Co. + + + + + TO + F. C. F. + + + + + CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + I. The Hair-cut + II. The Company From "Outside" + III. Talk by the Fire + IV. The Conjuror + V. Jack Hears About Himself + VI. The Price of Sleep + VII. An Emotional Crisis + VIII. The Feminine Equation + IX. Yellow Metal + X. A Crumbling Brain + XI. The Show Down + XII. Jack Finds Out + XIII. The Retreat + XIV. Bear's Flesh and Berries + XV. An Expedition of Three + XVI. The Tepees of the Sapis + XVII. Ascota Escapes + XVIII. The End of Ascota + XIX. An Old Score Is Charged Off + XX. The Little Great World + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +"Such was Jack Chanty, sprawling on his little raft" . . . . . . +Frontispiece + +"Tempted by the hand that lay on the ground beside him, he caught it up +and pressed it to his lips" + +"He's not here!" she cried hysterically + +"F. G." he said grimly, "Francis Garrod" + +"Come and get me, white man!" cried Jean Paul, over his shoulder + + + + +JACK CHANTY + + + +I + +THE HAIR-CUT + +The surface of the wide, empty river rang with it like a +sounding-board, and the undisturbed hills gave it back, the gay song of +a deep-chested man. The musical execution was not remarkable, but the +sound was as well suited to the big spaces of the sunny river as the +call of a moose to the October woods, or the ululation of a wolf to a +breathless winter's night. The zest of youth and of singing was in it; +to that the breasts of any singer's hearers cannot help but answer. + + "Oh! pretty Polly Oliver, the pri-ide of her sex; + The love of a grenadier he-er poor heart did vex. + He courted her so faithfu-ul in the good town of Bow, + But marched off to foreign lands a-fi-ighting the foe." + + +The singer was luxuriously reclining on a tiny raft made of a single +dry trunk cut into four lengths laced together with rope. His back was +supported by two canvas bags containing his grub and all his worldly +goods, and a banjo lay against his raised thighs. From afar on the +bosom of the great stream he looked like a doll afloat on a shingle. +The current carried him down, and the eddies waltzed him slowly around +and back, providing him agreeable views up and down river and athwart +the noble hills that hemmed it in. + + "I cannot live si-ingle, and fa-alse I'll not prove, + So I'll 'list for a drummer-boy and follow my love. + Peaked ca-ap, looped jacke-et, whi-ite gaiters and drum, + And marching so manfully to my tru-ue love I'll come." + + +Between each verse the banjo supplied a rollicking obbligato. + +His head was bare, and the waves of his thick, sunburnt hair showed +half a dozen shades ranging between sienna and ochre. As to his face, +it was proper enough to twenty-five years old; an abounding vitality +was its distinguishing character. He was not too good-looking; he had +something rarer than mere good looks, an individuality of line and +colouring. It was his own face, suggesting none of the recognized +types of faces. He had bright blue eyes under beautifully modelled +brows, darker than his hair. One eyebrow was cocked a little higher +than the other, giving him a mocking air. In repose his lips came +together in a thin, resolute line that suggested a hard streak under +his gay youthfulness. + +He was wearing a blue flannel shirt open at the throat, with a blue and +white handkerchief knotted loosely away from it, and he had on faded +blue overalls tucked into the tops of his mocassins. These mocassins +provided the only touch of coxcombry to his costume; they were of the +finest white doeskin elaborately worked with silk flowers. Such +footwear is not for sale in the North, but may be surely construed as a +badge of the worker's favour. + +Such was Jack Chanty, sprawling on his little raft, and abandoning +himself to the delicious sunshine and the delights of song. It was +July on the Spirit River; he was twenty-five years old, and the blood +was coursing through his veins; inside his shirt he felt the weight of +a little canvas bag of yellow gold, and he knew where there was plenty +more to be had. Is it any wonder he was filled with a sense of +well-being so keen it was almost a pain? Expanding his chest, he threw +back his head and relieved himself of a roaring fortissimo that made +the hills ring again: + + "'Twas the battle of Ble-enheim, in a ho-ot fusillade, + A poor little drummer-boy was a prisoner made. + But a bra-ave grenadier fou-ought hi-is way through the foe, + And fifteen fierce Frenchmen toge-ether laid low. + + "He took the boy tenderly in his a-arms as he swooned, + He opened his ja-acket for to search for a wound. + Oh! pretty Polly Olive-er, my-y bravest, my bride! + Your true love shall nevermore be to-orn from your side!" + + +By and by the raft was carried around a wide bend, and the whitewashed +buildings of Fort Cheever stole into view down the river. Jack's eyes +gleamed, and he put away the banjo. It was many a day since he had +hobnobbed with his own kind, and what is the use of gold if there is no +chance to squander it? + +Sitting up, he applied himself to his paddle. Edging the raft toward +the left-hand bank, he left the main current at the head of an island, +and, shooting over a bar, paddled through the sluggish backwater on the +shore of which the little settlement lay. As he came close the +buildings were hidden from him by the high bank; only the top of the +"company's" flagpole showed. The first human sound that struck on his +ears was the vociferous, angry crying of a boy-child. + +Rounding a little point of the bank, the cause of the commotion was +revealed. Jack grinned, and held his paddle. The sluggish current +carried him toward the actors in the scene, and they were too intent to +observe him. A half-submerged, flat-bottomed barge was moored to the +shore. On the decked end of it a young girl in a blue print dress was +seated on a box, vigorously soaping an infant of four. Two other +ivory-skinned cupids, one older, one younger, were playing in the warm +water that partly filled the barge. Their clothes lay in a heap behind +the girl. + +She was a very pretty girl; the mere sight of her caused Jack's breast +to lift and his heart to set up a slightly increased beating. It was +so long since he had seen one! Her soft lips were determinedly pressed +together; in one hand she gripped the thin arm of her captive, while +with the other she applied the soap until his writhing little body +flashed in the sun as if burnished. Struggles and yells were in vain. +The other two children played in the water, callously indifferent to +the sufferings of their brother. It was clear they had been through +their ordeal. + +The girl, warned of an approaching presence, raised a pair of startled +eyes. Her captive, feeling the vise relax, plunged into the water of +the barge with incredible swiftness, and, rapturously splashing off the +hated soap, joined his brothers at the other end, safely out of her +reach. The girl blushed for their nakedness. They themselves stared +open-mouthed at the stranger without any embarrassment at all. The fat +baby was sitting in the water, turned into stone with astonishment, +like a statue of Buddha in a flood. + +Something in the young man's frank laugh reassured the girl, and she +laughed a little too, though blushing still. She glowed with youth and +health, deep-bosomed as Ceres, and all ivory and old rose. Her +delicious, soft, roundness was a tantalizing sight to a hungry youth. +But there was something more than mere provoking loveliness--her large +brown eyes conveyed it, a disquieting wistfulness even while she +laughed. + +He brought his raft alongside the barge, and, rising, extended his hand +according to the custom of the country. Hastily wiping her own soapy +hand on her apron, she laid it in his. Both thrilled to the touch, and +their eyes quailed from each other. Jack quickly recovered himself. +Lovely as she might be, she was none the less a "native," and therefore +to a white man fair game. Naturally he took the world as he found it. + +"You are Mary Cranston," he said. "I should have known if there was +another like you in the country," his bold eyes added. + +The girl lowered her eyes. "Yes," she murmured. + +Her voice astonished him, and filled him with the desire to make her +speak again. "You don't know who I am," he said. + +She glanced at the banjo case. "Jack Chanty," she said softly. + +"Good!" he cried. "That's what it is to be famous!" Their eyes met, +and they laughed as at a rich joke. Her laugh was as sweet as the +sound of falling water in the ears of thirst, and the name he went by +as spoken by her rang in his ears with rare tenderness. + +"How did you know?" he asked curiously. + +"Everybody knows about everybody up here," she said. "There are so +few! You came from across the mountains, and have been prospecting +under Mount Tetrahedron since the winter. The Indians who came in to +trade told us about the banjo, and about the many songs you sang, which +were strange to them." + +The ardour of his gaze confused her. She broke off, and, to hide her +confusion, turned abruptly to the staring ivory cupids. "Andy, come +here!" she commanded in the voice of sisterly authority. "Colin! +Gibbie! Come and get dressed!" + +Andy and Colin grinned sheepishly, and stayed where they were. The +smile of Andy, the elder, was toothless and exasperating. As for the +infant Buddha, he continued to sit unmoved, to suck his thumb, and to +stare. + +She stamped her foot. "Andy! Come here this minute! Colin! Gibbie!" +she repeated in a voice of helpless vexation. + +They did not move. + +"Look sharp, young 'uns!" Jack suddenly roared. + +Of one accord, as if galvanized into life, they scrambled toward their +sister, making a detour around the far side of the barge to avoid Jack. + +Mary rewarded him with a smile, and dealt out the clothes with a +practised hand. Andy, clasping his garments to his breast, set off +over the plank to the shore, and was hauled back just in time. + +"He has to have his hair cut, because the steamboat is coming," his +sister explained; "and I don't see how I can hold on to him while I am +dressing the others." + +"Pass him over here," said Jack. + +Andy, struck with terror, was deposited on the raft, whence escape was +impossible without passing the big man, and commanded to dress himself +without more ado. + +Mary regarded the other two anxiously. "They're beginning to shiver," +she said, "and I can't dress both at once." + +Jack sat on the edge of the barge with his feet on the raft. "Give me +the baby," he said. + +"You couldn't dress a baby," she said, with a provoking dimple in +either cheek. + +"Yes, I can, if he wears pants," said Jack serenely. "There's no +mystery about pants." + +"Besides, he'd yell," she objected. + +"No, he won't," said Jack. "Try him and see." + +And in sooth he did not yell, but sat on Jack's knee while his little +shirt was pulled over his head and buttoned, sucking his thumb, and +staring at Jack with a piercing, unflinching stare. + +"You have a way with babies," the girl said in the sweet, hushed voice +that continually astonished him. + +He looked at her with his mocking smile. "And with girls?" his eyes +asked boldly. + +She blushed, and attended strictly to Colin's buttons. + +Colin, fully attired in shirt, trousers, and moccasins, was presently +dismissed over the plank. He lingered on the shore, shouting +opprobrious epithets to his elder, still in captivity. At the same +time the baby was dressed in the smallest pair of long pants ever made. +He was as bow-legged as a bulldog. Jack leaned back, roaring with +laughter at the figure of gravity he made. Gibbie didn't mind. He +could walk, but he preferred to sit. He continued to sit cross-legged +on the end of the barge, and to stare. + +Next, Andy was seated on the box, while Mary, kneeling behind him, +produced her scissors. + +"If you don't sit still you'll get the top of your cars cut off!" she +said severely. + +But sitting still was difficult under the taunts from ashore. + +"Jutht you wait till I git aholt of you," lisped the toothless one, +proving that the language of unregenerate youth is much the same on the +far-off Spirit River as it is on the Bowery. + +Jack returned to the raft and unstrapped the banjo case. "Be a good +boy and I'll sing you a song," he said, presumably to Andy, but looking +at Mary meanwhile. + +At the sound of the tuning-up the infant Buddha in long pants gravely +arose stern foremost, and reseated himself at the edge of the barge, +where he could get a better view of the player. + +Jack chose another rollicking air, but a new tone had crept into his +deep voice. He sang softly, for he had no desire to bring others down +the bank to interrupt his further talk with Mary. + + "Oh, the pretty, pretty creature! + When I next do meet her + No more like a clown will I face her frown, + But gallantly will I treat her, + But gallantly will I treat her, + Oh, the pretty, pretty creature!" + + +The infant Buddha condescended to smile, and to bounce once or twice on +his fundament by way of applause. Andy sat as still as a surprised +chipmunk. Colin was sorry now that he had cut himself off from the +barge. As for the boy's big sister, she kept her eyes veiled, and +plied the scissors with slightly languorous motions of the hands. Even +a merry song may work a deal of sentimental damage under certain +conditions. And the sun shone, and the bright river moved down. + +"Thank you," she said, when he had come to the end. "We never have +music here." + +Jack wondered where she had learned her pretty manners. + +The hair-cutting was concluded. Andy sprang up looking like a little +zebra with alternate dark and light stripes running around his head, +and a narrow bang like a forelock in the middle of his forehead. Jack +put away the banjo, and Andy, seeing that there was to be no more +music, set off in chase of Colin. The two of them disappeared over the +bank. Mary gathered up towels, soap, comb, and scissors preparatory to +following them. + +"Don't go yet," said Jack eagerly. + +"I must," she said, but lingering. "There is much to be done before +the steamboat comes." + +"She's only expected," said Jack of the knowledge born of experience. +"It'll be a week before she comes." + +Mary displayed no great eagerness to be gone. + +A bold idea had been making a covert shine in Jack's eyes during the +last minute or two. It suddenly found expression. "Cut my hair," he +blurted out. + +She started and blushed. "Oh, I--I couldn't cut a man's hair," she +stammered. + +"What's the difference?" demanded Jack with a great parade of +innocence. "Hair is just hair, isn't it?" + +"I couldn't," she repeated naïvely. "It would confuse me so!" + +The thought of her confusion was delicious to him. He was standing +below her on the raft. "Look," he said, lowering his head. "It needs +it. I'm a sight!" + +Since in this position he could not see her face, she allowed her eyes +to dwell for a moment on the tawny silken sheaves that he exhibited. +Such bright hair was wonderful to her. It seemed to her as if the sun +itself was netted in its folds. + +"I--I couldn't," she repeated, but weakly. + +He swung about and sat on the edge of the barge. "Make out I am your +other little brother," he said insinuatingly. "I can't see you, so +it's all right. Just one little snip to see how it goes!" + +The temptation was too great to be resisted. She bent over, and the +blades of the scissors met. In her agitation she cut a wider swath +than she intended and a whole handful of hair fell to the deck. + +"Oh!" she cried remorsefully. + +"Now you'll have to do the whole thing," said Jack quickly. "You can't +leave me looking like a half-clipped poodle." + +With a guilty look over her shoulder she drew up the box and sat down +behind him. Gibbie, the youngest of the Cranstons, was a solemn and +interested spectator. Jack thrilled a little and smiled at the touch +of her trembling fingers in his hair. At the same time he was not +unaware of the decorative value of his luxuriant thatch, and it +occurred to him he was running a considerable risk of disfigurement at +her hands. + +"Not so short as Andy's," he suggested anxiously. + +"I will be careful," she said. + +The scissors snipped busily, and the rich yellow-brown hair fell all +around the deck. Mary eyed it covetously. One shining twist of it +dropped in her lap. He could not see her. In a twinkling it was +stuffed inside her belt. + +Meanwhile Jack continued to smile with softened eyes. "Hair-cutting +was never like this," he murmured. He was tantalized by the +recollection of her voice, and he cast about in his mind for something +to lead her to talk more freely. "You were not here when I came +through two years ago," he said. + +"I was away at school," she said. + +"Where?" + +"The mission at Caribou Lake." + +"Did you like it there?" + +He felt the shrug in her finger-tips. "It is the best there is," she +said quietly. + +"It's a shame!" said Jack. There was a good deal unspoken here. "A +shame you should be obliged to associate with those savages," he +implied, and she understood. + +"Have you ever been outside?" he asked. + +"No," she said. + +"Would you like to go?" + +"Yes, with somebody I liked," she said in her simple way. + +"With me?" he asked in the off-hand tone that may be taken any way the +hearer pleases. + +Her simplicity was not dullness. "No," she said quickly. "You would +tell me funny lies about everything." + +"But you would laugh, and you would like it," he said. + +She had nothing to say to this. + +"Outside they have regular shops for shaving and cutting hair," he went +on. "Barber-shops they are called." + +"I know," she said offended. "I read." + +"I'll bet you didn't know there was a lady barber in Prince George." + +"Nice kind of lady!" she said. + +The obvious retort slipped thoughtlessly off his tongue. "I like that! +What are you doing?" + +Her eyes filled with tears, and the scissors faltered. "Well, I +wouldn't do it for--I--I wouldn't do it all the time," she murmured +deeply hurt. + +He twisted his head at the imminent risk of impaling an eye on the +scissors. The tears astonished him. Everything about her astonished +him. In no respect did she coincide with his experience of "native" +girls. He was vain enough for a good-looking young man of twenty-five, +but he did not suspect that to a lonely and imaginative girl his coming +down the river might have had all the effect of the advent of the +yellow-haired prince in a fairy-tale. Jack was not imaginative. + +He reached for her free hand. "Say, I'm sorry," he said clumsily. "It +was only a joke! It's mighty decent of you to do it for me." + +She snatched her hand away, but smiled at him briefly and dazzlingly. +She was glad to be hurt if he would let that tone come into his mocking +voice. + +"I was just silly," she said shortly. + +The hair-cutting went on. + +"What do you read?" asked Jack curiously. + +"We get newspapers and magazines three times a year by the steamboat," +she said. "And I have a few books. I like 'Lalla Rookh' and 'Marmion' +best." + +Jack, who was not acquainted with either, preserved a discreet silence. + +"Father has sent out for a set of Shakespeare for me," she went on. "I +am looking forward to it." + +"It's better on the stage," said Jack. "What fun to take you to the +theatre!" + +She made no comment on this. Presently the scissors gave a concluding +snip. + +"Lean over and look at yourself in the water," she commanded. + +Obeying, he found to his secret relief that his looks had not suffered +appreciably. "That's out of sight!" he said heartily, turning to her. +"I say, I'm ever so much obliged to you." + +An awkward silence fell between them. Jack's growing intention was +clearly evident in his eye, but she did not look at him. + +"I--I must pay you," he said at last, a little breathlessly. + +She understood that very well, and sprang up, the scissors ringing on +the hollow deck. They were both pale. She turned to run, but the box +was in her way. Leaping from the raft to the barge, he caught her in +his arms, and as she strained away he kissed her round firm cheek and +her fragrant neck beneath the ear. He roughly pressed her averted head +around, and crushed her soft lips under his own. + +Then she got an arm free, and he received a short-arm box on the ear +that made his head ring. She tore herself out of his arms, and faced +him from the other side of the barge, panting and livid with anger. + +"How dare you! How dare you!" she cried. + +Jack leaned toward her, breathing no less quickly than she. "You're +lovely! You're lovely," he murmured swiftly. "I never saw anybody +like you before. I'll camp quarter of a mile down river, out of the +way. Come down to-night, and I'll sing to you." + +"I won't!" she cried. "I'll never speak to you again! I hate you!" +She indicated the unmoved infant Buddha with a tragic gesture. "And +before the baby, too!" she cried. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" + +Jack laughed a little sheepishly. "Well, he's too young to tell," he +said. + +"But what will he think of me?" she cried despairingly. Stooping, she +swept the little god into her arms, and, running over the plank, +disappeared up the bank. + +"I'll be waiting for you," Jack softly called after her. She gave no +sign of hearing. + +Jack sad down on the edge of the barge again. He brushed the cut hair +into the water, and watched it float away with an abstract air. As he +stared ahead of him a slight line appeared between his eyebrows which +may have been due to compunction. Whatever the uncomfortable thought +was, he presently whistled it away after the manner of youth, and, +drawing his raft up on the stones, set to work to take stock of his +grub. + + + + +II + +THE COMPANY FROM "OUTSIDE." + +The Hudson Bay Company's buildings at Fort Cheever were built, as is +customary, in the form of a hollow square, with one side open to the +river. The store occupied one side of the square, the warehouse was +opposite, and at the top stood the trader's house in the midst of its +vegetable garden fenced with palings. The old palisade about the place +had long ago disappeared, and nothing military remained except the +flagpole and an ancient little brass cannon at its foot, blackened with +years of verdigris and dirt. The humbler store of the "French outfit" +and the two or three native shacks that completed the settlement lay at +a little distance behind the company buildings, and the whole was +cropped down on a wide, flat esplanade of grass between the steep bare +hills and the river. + +To-day at the fort every one was going about his business with an eye +cocked downstream. Every five minutes David Cranston came to the door +of the store for a look, and old Michel Whitebear, hoeing the trader's +garden, rested between every hill of potatoes, to squint his aged eyes +in the same direction. Usually this state of suspense endured for +days, sometimes weeks, but upon this trip the river-gods were +propitious, and at five o'clock the eagerly listened for whistle was +actually heard. + +Every soul in the place gathered at the edge of the bank to witness the +arrival. At one side, slightly apart, stood the trader and his family. +David Cranston was a lean, up-standing Scotchman, an imposing physical +specimen with hair and beard beginning to grizzle, and a level, grim, +sad gaze. His wife was a handsome, sullen, dark-browed, half-breed +woman, who, unlike the majority of her sisters, carried her age well. +In his grim sadness and her sullenness was written a domestic tragedy +of long-standing. After all these years she was still a stranger in +her own house, and an alien to her husband and children. Their +children were with them, Mary and six boys ranging from Davy, who was +sixteen, down to the infant Buddha. + +A small crowd of natives in ragged store clothes, standing and +squatting on the bank, and spilling over on the beach below, filled the +centre of the picture, and beyond them sat Jack Chanty by himself, on a +box that he had carried to the edge of the bank. Between him and Mary +the bank made in, so that they were fully visible to each other, and +both tinglingly self-conscious. In Jack this took the form of an +elaborately negligent air. He whittled a paddle with nice care, +glancing at Mary from under his lashes. She could not bring herself to +look at him. + +While the steamboat was still quarter of a mile downstream, the people +began to sense that there was something more than usual in the wind, +and a great excitement mounted. We of the outside world, with our +telegrams and newspapers and hourly posts, have forgotten what it is to +be dramatically surprised. Where can we get a thrill like to that +which animated these people as the magic word was passed around: +"Passengers!" Presently it could be made out that these were no +ordinary passengers, but a group of well-dressed gentlemen, and +finally, wonder of wonders! what had never been seen at Fort Cheever +before, a white lady--no, two of them! + +Mary saw them first, two ladies, corseted, tailored, and marvellously +hatted like the very pictures in the magazines that she had secretly +disbelieved in. In another minute she made out that one of them, +leaning on the upper rail, smiling and chatting vivaciously with her +companions, was as young as Mary herself, and as slender and pretty as +a mundane fairy. + +Mary glanced swiftly at Jack. He, too, was looking at the deck of the +steamboat and he had stopped whittling his paddle. A dreadful pang +transfixed Mary's breast. Her hands and feet suddenly became enormous +to her, and her body seemed like a coarse and shapeless lump. She +looked down at her clean, faded print dress; she could have torn it +into ribbons. She looked at her dark-browed mother with eyes full of a +strange, angry despair. The elder woman had by this time seen what was +coming, and her lip curled scornfully. Mary's eyes filled with tears. +She slipped out of the group unseen, and, running back to the house, +cast herself on her bed and wept as she had never wept. + +The steamboat was moored alongside the half-submerged barge. She came +to a stop with the group on the upper deck immediately in front of Jack +and a little below him. True to the character of indifference he was +fond of assuming, he went on whittling his paddle. At the same time he +was taking it all in. The sight of people such as his own people, that +he thought he had put behind him forever, raised a queer confusion of +feelings in him. As he covertly watched the dashing, expensive, +imperious little beauty and three men hanging obsequiously on her +words, a certain hard brightness showed briefly in his eyes, and his +lips thinned. + +It was as if he said: "Aha! my young lady, I know your kind! None of +you will ever play that game again with me!" + +Consequently when her casual glance presently fell on the handsome, +young, rough character (as she would no doubt have called him) it was +met by a glance even more casual. The young man was clearly more +interested in the paddle he was making than in her. Her colour +heightened a little and she turned with an added vivacity to her +companions. After a long time she looked again. The young man was +still intent upon his paddle. + +The first to come off the boat was the young purser, who hurried with +the mail and the manifests to David Cranston. He was pale under the +weight of the announcement he bore. + +"We have his honour the lieutenant-governor and party on board," he +said breathlessly. + +Cranston, because he saw that he was expected to be overcome, remained +grimly unconcerned. "So!" he said coolly. + +The youngster stared. "The lieutenant-governor," he repeated +uncertainly. "He's landing here to make some explorations in the +mountains. He joined us without warning at the Crossing. There was no +way to let you know." + +"We'll do the best we can for his lordship," said Cranston with an +ironic curl to his grim lips. "I will speak to my wife." + +To her he said under his breath, grimly but not unkindly, "Get to the +house, my girl." + +She flared up with true savage suddenness. "So, I'm not good enough to +be seen with you," she snarled, taking no pains to lower her voice. +"I'm your lawful wife. These are my children. Are you ashamed of my +colour? You chose me!" + +Cranston drew the long breath that calls on patience. "'Tis not your +colour that puts me to shame, but your manners," he said sternly. "And +if they're bad," he added, "it's not for the lack of teaching. Get to +the house!" + +She went. + +The captain of the steamboat now appeared on the gangplank, ushering an +immaculate little gentleman whose salient features were a Panama hat +above price, a pointed white beard, neat, agile limbs, and a trim +little paunch under a miraculously fitting white waistcoat. Two other +men followed, one elderly, one young. + +Cranston waited for them at the top of the path. + +The captain was a little flustered too. "Mr. Cranston, gentlemen, the +company's trader here," he said. "His Honour Sir Bryson Trangmar, the +lieutenant-governor of Athabasca," he went on. "Captain Vassall"--the +younger man bowed; "Mr. Baldwin Ferrie"--the other nodded. + +There was the suspicion of a twinkle in Cranston's eye. Taking off his +hat he extended an enormous hand. "How do you do, sir," he said +politely. "Welcome to Fort Cheever." + +"Charmed! Charmed!" bubbled the neat little gentleman. "Charming +situation you have here. Charming river! Charming hills!" + +"I regret that I cannot offer you suitable hospitality," Cranston +continued in his great, quiet voice. "My house is small, as you see, +and very ill-furnished. There are nine of us. But the warehouse shall +be emptied before dark and made ready for you. It is the best building +here." + +"Very kind, I'm sure," said Sir Bryson with off-hand +condescension--perhaps he sensed the twinkle, perhaps it was the mere +size of the trader that annoyed him; "but we have brought everything +needful. We will camp here on the grass between the buildings and the +river. Captain Vassall, my aide-de-camp, will see to it. I will talk +to you later Mr.--er?" + +"Cranston," murmured the aide-de-camp. + +Cranston understood by this that he was dismissed. He sauntered back +to the store with a peculiar smile on his grim lips. In the free North +country they have never become habituated to the insolence of office, +and the display of it strikes them as a very humorous thing, +particularly in a little man. + +Sir Bryson and the others reconnoitred the grassy esplanade, and chose +a spot for the camp. It was decided that the party should remain on +the steamboat all night, and go into residence under canvas next day. +They then returned on board for supper, and nothing more was seen of +the strangers for a couple of hours. + +At the end of that time Miss Trangmar and her companion, Mrs. Worsley, +arm in arm and hatless, came strolling over the gangplank to enjoy a +walk in the lingering evening. At this season it does not become dark +at Fort Cheever until eleven. + +Jack's raft was drawn up on the beach at the steamboat's bow, and as +the ladies came ashore he was disposing his late purchases at the store +upon it, preparatory to dropping downstream to the spot where he meant +to camp. In order to climb the bank the two had to pass close behind +him. + +At sight of him the girl's eyes brightened, and, with a mischievous +look she said something to her companion. + +"Linda!" the older woman remonstrated. + +"Everybody speaks to everybody up here," said the girl. "It was +understood that the conventions were to be left at home." + +Thus Jack was presently startled to hear a clear high voice behind him +say: "Are you going to travel on the river with that little thing?" + +Hastily straightening his back and turning, he raised his hat. Her +look took him unawares. There was nothing of the insolent queenliness +in it now. She was smiling at him like a fearless, well-bred little +girl. Nevertheless, he reflected, the sex is not confined to the use +of a single weapon, and he stiffened. + +"I came down the river on it this morning," he said politely and +non-committal. "To-night I'm going just a little way to camp." + +She was very like a little girl, he thought, being so small and +slender, and having such large blue eyes, and such a charming, +childlike smile. Her bright brown hair was rolled back over her ears. +Her lips were very red, and her teeth perfect. She was wearing a silk +waist cunningly contrived with lace, and fitting in severe, straight +lines, ever so faintly suggesting the curves beneath. In spite of +himself everything about her struck subtle chords in Jack's memory. It +was years since he had been so close to a lady. + +She was displeased with the manner of his answer. He had shown no +trace either of the self-consciousness or the eager complaisance she +had expected from a local character. Indeed, his gaze returned to the +raft as if he were only restrained by politeness from going on with his +preparations. He reminded her of a popular actor in a Western play +that she had been to see more times than her father knew of. But the +rich colour in Jack's cheek and neck had the advantage of being under +the skin instead of plastered on top. Her own cheeks were a thought +pale. + +"How do you go back upstream?" she asked with an absent air that was +intended to punish him. + +"You travel as you can," said Jack calmly. "On horseback or afoot." + +She pointedly did not wait for the answer, but strayed on up the path +as if he had already passed from her mind. Yet as she turned at the +top her eyes came back to him as if by accident. She had a view of a +broad back, and a bent head intent upon the lashings of the raft. She +bit her lip. It was a disconcerting young man. + +A few minutes later Frank Garrod, the governor's secretary, who until +now had been at work in his cabin upon the correspondence the steamboat +was to take back next day, came over the gangplank in pursuit of the +ladies. He was a slim and well-favoured young man, of about Jack's +age, but with something odd and uncontrolled about him, a young man of +whom it was customary to say he was "queer," without any one's knowing +exactly what constituted his queerness. He had black hair and eyes +that made a striking contrast with his extreme pallor. The eyes were +very bright and restless; all his movements were a little jerky and +uneven. + +Hearing more steps behind him, Jack looked around abstractedly without +really seeing what he looked at. Garrod, however, obtained a fair look +into Jack's face, and the sight of it operated on him with a terrible, +dramatic suddenness. A doctor would have recognized the symptoms of +what he calls shock. Garrod's arms dropped limply, his breath failed +him, his eyes were distended with a wild and inhuman fear. For an +instant he seemed about to collapse on the stones, but he gathered some +rags of self-control about him, and, turning without a sound, went back +over the gangplank, swaying a little, and walking with wide-open, +sightless eyes like a man in his sleep. + +Presently Vassall, the amiable young A.D.C., descending the after +stairway, came upon him leaning against the rail on the river-side of +the boat, apparently deathly sick. + +"Good heavens, Garrod! What's the matter?" he cried. + +The other man made a pitiable attempt to carry it off lightly. +"Nothing serious," he stammered. "A sudden turn. I have them +sometimes. If you have any whiskey----" + +Vassall sprang up the stairway, and presently returned with a flask. +Upon gulping down part of the contents, a little colour returned to +Garrod's face, and he was able to stand straighter. + +"All right now," he said in a stronger voice. "You run along and join +the others. Please don't say anything about this." + +"I can't leave you like this," said Vassall. "You ought to be in bed." + +"I tell you I'm all right," said Garrod in his jerky, irritable way. +"Run along. There isn't anything you can do." + +Vassall went his way with a wondering air; real tragedy is such a +strange thing to be intruding upon our everyday lives. Garrod, left +alone, stared at the sluggishly flowing water under the ship's counter +with the kind of sick, desirous eyes that so often look over the +parapets of bridges in the cities at night. But there were too many +people about on the boat; the splash would instantly have betrayed him. + +He gathered himself together as with an immense effort, and, climbing +the stairway, went to his stateroom. There he unlocked his valise, and +drawing out his revolver, a modern hammerless affair, made sure that it +was loaded, and slipped it in his pocket. He caught sight of his face +in the mirror and shuddered. "As soon as it's dark," he muttered. + +He sat down on his bunk to wait. By and by he became conscious of a +torturing thirst, and he went out into the main cabin for water. Jack, +meanwhile, having loaded his craft, had boarded the steamboat to see if +he could beg or steal a newspaper less than two months old, and the two +men came face to face in the saloon. + +Garrod made a move to turn back, but it was too late; Jack had +recognized him now. Seeing the look of amazement in the other's face, +Garrod's hand stole to his hip-pocket, but it was arrested by the sound +of Jack's voice. + +"Frank!" he cried, and there was nothing but gladness in the sound. +"Frank Garrod, by all that's holy!" He sprang forward with +outstretched hands. "Old Frank! To think of finding you here!" + +Garrod stared in stupid amazement at the smile and the hearty tone. +For a moment he was quite unnerved; his hands and his lips trembled. +"Is it--is it Malcolm Piers?" he stammered. + +"Sure thing!" cried Jack, wringing his hand. "What's the matter with +you? You look completely knocked up at the sight of me. I'm no ghost, +man! What are you doing up here." + +"I'm Sir Bryson's secretary," murmured Garrod, feeling for his words +with difficulty. + +Jack's delight was as transparent as it was unrestrained. The saloon +continued to ring with his exclamations. In the face of it a little +steadiness returned to Garrod, but he could not rid his eyes of their +amazement and incredulity at every fresh display of Jack's gladness. + +"You're looking pretty seedy," Jack broke off to say. "Going the pace, +I expect. Now that we've got you up here, you'll have to lead a more +godly and regular life, my boy." + +"What are you doing up here, Malcolm?" asked Garrod dully. + +"Easy with that name around here, old fel'," said Jack carelessly. "I +left it off long ago. I'm just Jack Chanty now. It's the name the +fellows gave me themselves because I sing by the campfires." + +"I understand," said Garrod, with a jerk of eagerness. "Good plan to +drop your own name, knocking around up here." + +"I had no reason to be ashamed of it," said Jack quickly. "But it's +too well known a name in the East. I didn't want to be explaining +myself all the time. It was nobody's business, anyway, why I came out +here. So I let them call me what they liked." + +"Of course," said Garrod. + +"Knock around," cried Jack. "That's just what I do! A little river +work, a little prospecting, a little hunting and trapping, and one hell +of a good time! It beats me how young fellows of blood and muscle can +stew their lives away in cities when this is open to them! New country +to explore, and game to bring down, and gold to look for. The fun of +it, whether you find any or not! This is freedom, Frank, working with +your own hands for all you get, and beholden to no man! By Gad! I'm +glad I found you," he went on enthusiastically. "What talks we'll have +about people and the places back home! I never could live there now, +but I'm often sick to hear about it all. You shall tell me!" + +A tremor passed over Garrod's face. "Sure," he said nervously. "I +can't stop just this minute, because they're waiting for me up on the +bank. But I'll see you later." + +"To-morrow, then," said Jack easily; but his eyes followed the +disappearing Garrod with a surprised and chilled look. "What's the +matter with him?" they asked. + +Garrod as he hurried ashore, his hands trembling, and his face working +in an ecstasy of relief, murmured over and over to himself. "He +doesn't know! He doesn't know!" + + + + +III + +TALK BY THE FIRE + +Jack was sitting by his own fire idly strumming on the banjo. Behind +him was his canvas "lean-to," open to the fire in front, and with a +mosquito bar hanging within. All around his little clearing pressed a +thick growth of young poplar, except in front, where the view was open +to the river, moving smoothly down, and presenting a burnished silver +reflection to the evening sky. The choice of a situation, the proper +fire, and the tidy arrangements all bespoke the experienced campaigner. +Jack took this sort of thing for granted, as men outside ride back and +forth on trolley cars, and snatch hasty meals at lunch counters. + +The supper dishes being washed, it was the easeful hour of life in +camp, but Jack was not at ease. He played a few bars, and put the +banjo down. He tinkered with the fire, and swore when he only +succeeded in deadening it. He lit his pipe, and immediately allowed it +to go out again. A little demon had his limbs twitching on wires. He +continually looked and listened in the direction of the fort, and +whenever he fancied he heard a sound his heart rose and beat thickly in +his throat. At one moment he thought: "She'll come," and confidently +smiled; the next, for no reason: "She will not come," and frowned, and +bit his lip. + +Finally he did hear a rustle among the trees. He sprang up with +surprised and delighted eyes, and immediately sat down again, picking +up the banjo with an off-hand air. Under the circumstances one's pet +affectation of unconcern is difficult to maintain. + +It was indeed Mary. She broke into the clearing, pale and breathless, +and looked at Jack as if she was all ready to turn and fly back again. +Jack smiled and nodded as if this were the most ordinary of visits. +The smile stiffened in his face, for another followed her into the +clearing--Davy, the oldest of her brothers. For an instant Jack was +nonplussed, but he had laid it down as a rule that in his dealings with +the sex, whatever betide, a man must smile and keep his temper. So, +swallowing his disappointment as best he could, he greeted Davy as if +he had expected him too. + +What Mary had been through during the last few hours may be imagined: +how many times she had sworn she would not go, only to have her desires +open the question all over again. Perhaps she would not have come if +the maddeningly attractive young lady had not appeared on the scene; +perhaps she would have found an excuse to come anyway. Be that as it +may, she had brought Davy. In this she had not Mrs. Grundy's elaborate +code to guide her; it was an idea out of her own head--or an instinct +of her heart, rather. Watching Jack eagerly and covertly to see how he +took it, she decided that she had done right. "He will think more of +me," she thought with a breath of relief. + +She had done wisely of course. Jack, after his first disappointment, +was compelled to doff his cap to her. He had never met a girl of the +country like this. He bestirred himself to put his visitors at their +ease. + +"I will make tea," he said, reaching for the copper pot according to +the ritual of politeness in the North. + +"We have just had tea," Mary said. "Davy will smoke with you." + +Mary was now wearing a shawl over the print dress, but instead of +clutching it around her in the clumsy native way, she had crossed it on +her bosom like a fichu, wound it about her waist, and tucked the ends +in. Jack glanced at her approvingly. + +Davy was young for his sixteen years, and as slender as a sapling. He +had thin, finely drawn features, and eyes that expressed something of +the same quality of wistfulness as his sister's. At present he was +very ill at ease, but his face showed a certain resoluteness that +engaged Jack's liking. The boy shyly produced a pipe that was +evidently a recent acquisition, and filled it inexpertly. + +Jack's instinct led him to ignore Mary for the present while he made +friends with the boy. He knew how. They were presently engaged in a +discussion about prairie chicken, in an off-hand, manly tone. + +"Never saw 'em so plenty," said Davy. "You only have to climb the hill +to bring back as many as you want." + +"What gun do you use?" asked Jack. + +The boy's eyes gleamed. "My father has a Lefever gun," he said +proudly. "He lets me use it." + +"So!" said Jack, suitably impressed. "There are not many in the +country." + +"She's a very good gun," said Davy patronizingly. "I like to take her +apart and clean her," he added boyishly. + +"I'd like to go up on the prairie with you while I'm here," said Jack. +"But I have no shotgun. I'll have to try and put their eyes out with +my twenty-two." + +This sort of talk was potent to draw them together. They puffed away, +ringing all the changes on it. Mary listened apart as became a mere +woman, and the hint of a dimple showed in either cheek. When she +raised her eyes they fairly beamed on Jack. + +Jack knew that the way to win the hearts of the children of the North +is to tell them tales of the wonderful world outside that they all +dream about. He led the talk in this direction. + +"I suppose you've finished school," he said to Davy, as man to man. +"Do you ever think of taking a trip outside?" + +The boy hesitated before replying. "I think of it all the time," he +said in a low, moved voice. "I feel bad every time the steamboat goes +back without me. There is nothing for me here." + +"You'll make it some day soon," said Jack heartily. + +"I suppose you know Prince George well?" the boy said wistfully. + +"Yes," said Jack, "but why stop at Prince George? That's not much of a +town. You should see Montreal. That's where I was raised. There's a +city for you! All built of stone. Magnificent banks and stores and +office buildings ten, twelve, fourteen stories high, and more. You've +seen a two-story house at the lake; imagine seven of them piled up one +on top of another, with people working on every floor!" + +"You're fooling us," said the boy. His and his sister's eyes were +shining. + +"No, I have seen pictures of them in the magazines," put in Mary +quickly. + +"There is Notre Dame Street," said Jack dreamily, "and Great St. James, +and St. Catherine's, and St. Lawrence Main; I can see them now! +Imagine miles of big show-windows lighted at night as bright as +sunshine. Imagine thousands of moons hung right down in the street for +the people to see by, and you have it!" + +"How wonderful!" murmured Mary. + +"There is an electric light at Fort Ochre," said the boy, "but I have +not seen it working. They say when the trader claps his hands it +shines, and when he claps them again it goes out." + +Mary blushed for her brother's ignorance. "That's only to fool the +Indians," she said quickly. "Of course there's some one behind the +counter to turn it off and on." + +Jack told them of railway trains and trolley cars; of mills that wove +thousands of yards of cloth in a day, and machines that spit out pairs +of boots all ready to put on. The old-fashioned fairy-tales are +puerile beside such wonders as these--think of eating your dinner in a +carriage that is being carried over the ground faster than the wild +duck flies!--moreover, he assured them on his honour that it was all +true. + +"Tell us about theatres," said Mary. "The magazines have many stories +about theatres, but they do not explain what they are." + +"Well, a theatre's a son-of-a-gun of a big house with a high ceiling +and the floor all full of chairs," said Jack. "Around the back there +are galleries with more chairs. In the front there is a platform +called the stage, and in front of the stage hangs a big curtain that is +let down while the people are coming in, so you can't see what is +behind it. It is all brightly lighted, and there's an orchestra, many +fiddles and other kinds of music playing together in front of the +stage. When the proper time comes the curtain is pulled up," he +continued, "and you see the stage all arranged like a picture with +beautifully painted scenery. Then the actors and actresses come out on +the stage and tell a story to each other. They dance and sing, and +make love, and have a deuce of a time generally. That's called a play." + +"Is it nothing but making love?" asked Davy. "Don't they have anything +about hunting, or having sport?" + +"Sure!" said Jack. "War and soldiers and shooting, and everything you +can think of." + +"Are the actresses all as pretty as they say?" asked Mary diffidently. + +"Not too close," said Jack. "But you see the lights, and the paint and +powder, and the fine clothes show them up pretty fine." + +"It gives them a great advantage," she commented. + +Mary had other questions to ask about actresses. Davy was not +especially interested in this subject, and soon as he got an opening +therefor he said, looking sidewise at the leather case by the fire: + +"I never heard the banjo played." + +Jack instantly produced the instrument, and, tuning it, gave them song +after song. Brother and sister listened entranced. Never in their +lives had they met anybody like Jack Chanty. He was master of an +insinuating tone not usually associated with the blatant banjo. +Without looking at her, he sang love-songs to Mary that shook her +breast. In her wonder and pleasure she unconsciously let fall the +guard over her eyes, and Jack's heart beat fast at what he read there. + +Warned at last by the darkness, Mary sprang up. "We must go," she said +breathlessly. + +Davy, who had come unwillingly, was more unwilling to go. But the hint +of "father's" anger was sufficient to start him. + +Jack detained Mary for an instant at the edge of the clearing. He +dropped the air of the genial host. "I shall not be able to sleep +to-night," he said swiftly. + +"Nor I," she murmured. "Th--thinking of the theatre," she added lamely. + +"When everybody is asleep," he pleaded, "come outside your house. I'll +be waiting for you. I want to talk to you alone." + +She made no answer, but raised her eyes for a moment to his, two deep, +deep pools of wistfulness. "Ah, be good to me! Be good to me," they +seemed to plead with him. Then she darted after her brother. + +The look sobered Jack, but not for very long. "She'll come," he +thought exultingly. + +Left alone, he worked like a beaver, chopping and carrying wood for his +fire. Under stress of emotion he turned instinctively to violent +physical exertion for an outlet. He was more moved than he knew. In +an hour, being then as dark as it would get, he exchanged the axe for +the banjo, and, slinging it over his back, set forth. + +The growth of young poplar stretched between his camp and the esplanade +of grass surrounding the buildings of the fort. When he came to the +edge of the trees the warehouse was the building nearest to him. +Running across the intervening space, he took up his station in the +shadow of the corner of it, where he could watch the trader's house. A +path bordered by young cabbages and turnips led from the front door +down to the gate in the palings. The three visible windows of the +house were dark. At a little distance behind the house the sledge dogs +of the company were tethered in a long row of kennels, but there was +little danger of their giving an alarm, for they often broke into a +frantic barking and howling for no reason except the intolerable ennui +of their lives in the summer. + +There is no moment of the day in lower latitudes that exactly +corresponds to the fairylike night-long summer twilight of the North. +The sunset glow does not fade entirely, but hour by hour moves around +the Northern horizon to the east, where presently it heralds the sun's +return. It is not dark, and it is not light. The world is a ghostly +place. It is most like nights at home when the full moon is shining +behind light clouds, but with this difference, that here it is the +dimness of a great light that embraces the world, instead of the +partial obscurity of a lesser. + +Jack waited with his eyes glued to the door of the trader's house. +There was not a breath stirring. There were no crickets, no katydids, +no tree-toads to make the night companionable; only the hoot of an owl, +and the far-off wail of a coyote to put an edge on the silence. It was +cold, and for the time being the mosquitoes were discouraged. The +stars twinkled sedulously like busy things. + +Jack waited as a young man waits for a woman at night, with his ears +strained to catch the whisper of her dress, a tremor in his muscles, +and his heart beating thickly in his throat. The minutes passed +heavily. Once the dogs raised an infernal clamour, and subsided again. +A score of times he thought he saw her, but it was only a trick of his +desirous eyes. He became cold to the bones, and his heart sunk. As a +last resort he played the refrain of the last song he had sung her, +played it so softly none but one who listened would be likely to hear. +The windows of the house were open. + +Then suddenly he sensed a figure appearing from behind the house, and +his heart leapt. He lost it in the shadow of the house. He waited +breathlessly, then played a note or two. The figure reappeared, +running toward him, still in the shadow. It loomed big in the +darkness. It started across the open space. Too late Jack saw his +mistake. He had only time to fling the banjo behind him, before the +man was upon him with a whispered oath. + +Jack thought of a rival, and his breast burned. He defended himself as +best as he could, but his blows went wide in the darkness. The other +man was bigger than he, and nerved by a terrible, quiet passion. To +save himself from the other's blows Jack clinched. The man flung him +off. Jack heard the sharp impact of a blow he did not feel. The earth +leapt up, and he drifted away on the swirling current of +unconsciousness. + +What happened after that was like the awakening from a vague, bad +dream. He had first the impression of descending a long and +tempestuous series of rapids on his flimsily hung raft, to which he +clung desperately. Then the scene changed and he seemed to be floating +in a ghastly void. He thought he was blind. He put out his hand to +feel, and his palm came in contact with the cool, moist earth, overlaid +with bits of twig and dead leaves, and sprouts of elastic grass. The +earth at least was real, and he felt of it gratefully, while the rest +of him still teetered in emptiness. + +Then he became conscious of a comfortable emanation, as from a fire; +sight returned, and he saw that there was a fire. It had a familiar +look; it was the fire he himself had built some hours before. He felt +himself, and found that he was covered by his own blanket. "I have had +a nightmare," he thought mistily. Then a voice broke rudely on his +vague fancies, bringing the shock of complete recollection in its train. + +"So, you're coming 'round all right," it said grimly. + +At his feet, Jack saw David Cranston sitting on a log. + +"I've put the pot on," he continued. "I'll have a sup of tea for you +in a minute. I didn't mean to hit you so hard, my lad, but I was mad." + +Jack turned his head, and hid it in his arm. Dizzy, nauseated, and +shamed, he was as near blubbering at that moment as a self-respecting +young man could let himself get in the presence of another man. + +"Clean hit, point of the jaw," Cranston went on. "Nothing broke. +You'll be as right as ever with the tea." + +He made it, and forced Jack to drink of the scalding infusion. In +spite of himself, it revived the young man, but it did not comfort his +spirit any. + +"I'm all right now," he muttered, meaning: "You can go!" + +"I'll smoke a pipe wi' you," said Cranston imperturbably. "I want a +bit of a crack wi' you." Seeing Jack's scowl, he added quickly: "Lord! +I'm not going to preach over you, lying there. You tried to do me an +injury, a devilish injury, but the mad went out wi' the blow that +stretched ye. I wish to do you justice. I mind as how I was once a +young sprig myself, and hung around outside the tepees at night, and +tried to whistle the girls out. But I never held by such a +tingle-pingle contraption as that," he said scornfully, pushing the +banjo with his foot. "To my mind it's for niggers and Eyetalians. +'Tis unmanly." + +Jack raised his head. "Did you break it?" he demanded scowling. + +"Nay," said Cranston coolly. "I brought it along wi' you. It's +property, and I spoil nothing that is not my own." + +There was a silence. Cranston with the greatest deliberation, took out +his pipe and stuck it in his mouth; produced his plug of tobacco, +shaved it nicely, and put it away again; rolled the tobacco thoroughly +between his palms, and pressed it into the bowl with a careful +forefinger. A glowing ember from the fire completed the operation. +For five minutes he smoked in silence, occasionally glancing at Jack +from under heavy brows. + +"Have ye anything to say?" he asked at last. + +"No," muttered Jack. + +There was another silence. Cranston sat as if he meant to spend the +night. + +"I don't get too many chances to talk to a white man," he finally said +with a kind of gruff diffidence. "Yon pretty fellows sleeping on the +steamboat, they are not men, but clothespins. Sir Bryson Trangmar, +Lord love ye! he will be calling me 'my good man' to-morrow. And him a +grocer once, they say--like myself." There was a cavernous chuckle +here. + +Jack sensed that the grim old trader was actually making friendly +advances, but the young man was to sore, too hopelessly in the wrong, +to respond right away. + +Cranston continued to smoke and to gaze at the fire. + +"Well, I have something to say," he blurted out at last, in a changed +voice. "And it's none too easy!" There was something inexpressibly +moving in the tremor that shook his grim voice as he blundered on. +"You made a mistake, young fellow. She's too good for this 'whistle +and I'll come to ye, my lad,' business. If you had any sense you would +have seen it for yourself--my little girl with her wise ways! But no +offence. You are young. I wouldn't bother wi' ye at all, but I feel +that I am responsible. It was I who gave them a dark-skinned mother. +I handicapped my girl and my boys, and now I have to be their father +and their mother too." + +A good deal less than this would have reached Jack's sense of +generosity. He hid his face again, and hated himself, but pride still +maintained the ascendency. He could not let the other man see. + +"It is that that makes you hold her so lightly," Cranston went on. "If +she had a white mother, my girl, aye, wi' half her beauty and her +goodness, would have put the fear of God into ye. Well, the +consequences of my mistake shall not be visited on her head if I can +prevent it. What does an idle lad like you know of the worth of women? +You measure them by their beauty, which is nothing. She has a mind +like an opening flower. She is my companion. All these years I have +been silenced and dumb, and now I have one to talk to that understands +what a white man feels! + +"She is a white woman. Some of the best blood of Scotland runs in her +veins. She's a Cranston. Match her wi' his lordship's daughter there, +the daughter of the grocer. Match her wi' the whitest lilies of them +all, and my girl will outshine them in beauty, aye, and outwear them in +courage and steadfastness! And she's worthy to bear sons and daughters +in turn that any man might be proud to father!" + +He came to a full stop. Jack sat up, scowling fiercely, and looking +five years younger by reason of his sheepishness. What he had to say +came out in jerks. "It's damn hard to get it out," he stuttered. "I'm +sorry. I'm ashamed of myself. What else can I say? I swear to you +I'll never lay a finger of disrespect on her. For heaven's sake go, +and let me be by myself!" + +Cranston promptly rose. "Spoken like a man, my lad," he said +laconically. "I'll say no more. Good-night to ye." He strode away. + + + + +IV + +THE CONJUROR + +Morning breaks, one awakes refreshed and quiescent, and, wondering a +little at the heats and disturbances of the day before, makes a fresh +start. Mary was not to be seen about the fort, and Jack presently +learned that she and Davy had departed on horseback at daybreak for the +Indian camp at Swan Lake. He was relieved, for, after what had +happened, the thought of having to meet Mary and adjust himself to a +new footing made him uncomfortable. + +Jack's self-love had received a serious blow, and he secretly longed +for something to rehabilitate himself in his own eyes. At the same +time he was not moved by any animosity toward Cranston, the instrument +of his downfall; on the contrary, though he could not have explained +it, he felt decidedly drawn toward the grim trader, and after a while +he sheepishly entered the store in search of him. He found Cranston +quite as diffident as himself, quite as anxious to let bygones be +bygones. There was genuine warmth in his handclasp. + +They made common cause in deriding the gubernatorial party. + +"Lord love ye!" said Cranston. "Never was an outfit like to that! +Card-tables, mind ye, and folding chairs, and hanging lamps, and a +son-of-a-gun of a big oil-stove that burns blue blazes! Fancy +accommodating that to a horse's back! I've sent out to round up all +the company horses. They'll need half a regiment to carry that stuff." + +"What's the governor's game up here?" asked Jack. + +"You've got me," said Cranston. "Coal lands in the canyon, he says." + +"That's pretty thin," said Jack. "It doesn't need a blooming governor +and his train to look at a a bit of coal. There's plenty of coal +nearer home." + +"There's a piece about it in one of the papers the steamboat brought," +said Cranston. + +He found the place, and exhibited it to Jack, who read a fulsome +account of how his honour Sir Bryson Trangmar had decided to spend the +summer vacation of the legislature in touring the North of the +province, with a view of looking into its natural resources; that the +journey had been hastily determined upon, and was to be of a strictly +non-official character, hence there were to be no ceremonies en route +beyond the civilities extended to any private traveller; that this was +only one more example of the democratic tendencies of our popular +governor, etc. + +"Natural resources," quoted Jack. "That's the ring in the cake!" + +"You think the coal they're after has a yellow shine?" suggested +Cranston. + +Jack nodded. "Even a governor may catch that fever," he said. "By +Gad!" he cried suddenly, "do you remember those two +claim-salters--Beckford and Rowe their names were--who went out after +the ice last May?" + +"They stopped here," said Cranston. "I remember them." + +"What if those two----" suggested Jack. + +"Good Lord!" cried Cranston, "the governor himself!" + +"If it's true," cried Jack, "it's the richest thing that ever happened! +A hundred years from now they'll still be telling the story around the +fires and splitting their sides over it. It's like Beckford, too; he +was a humourist in his way. This is too good to miss. I believe I'll +go back with them." + +From discussing Sir Bryson's object they passed to Jack's own work in +the Spirit River Pass. No better evidence of the progress these two +had made in friendship could be had than Jack's willingness to tell +Cranston of his "strike," the secret that a man guards closer than his +crimes. + +"I don't mind telling you that I have three good claims staked out," +said Jack. "In case I should be stopped from filing them, I'll leave +you a full description before I go. I'll leave you my little bag of +dust too, to keep for me." + +"You're serious about going back with them, then?" said Cranston. + +Jack nodded. "I ought to go, anyway, to make sure they don't blanket +anything of mine." + +In due course Jack produced his little canvas bag, which the trader +sealed, weighed, and receipted for. + +"There's another thing I wanted to talk to you about," said Jack +diffidently. "I can't hold these three claims myself. I want you to +take one." + +"Me?" exclaimed Cranston in great astonishment. + +"Yes," stammered Jack, still more embarrassed. "For--for her, you +know--Mary. I feel that I owe it to her. I want her to have it, +anyway. She needn't know it came from me. It's a good claim." + +Cranston would not hear of it, and they argued hotly. + +"You're standing in your own daughter's light," said Jack at last. +"I'm not giving you anything. It's for her. You haven't any right to +deprive her of a good thing." + +Cranston was silenced by this line; they finally shook hands on it, and +turned with mutual relief to less embarrassing subjects. Jack had the +comfortable sensation that in a measure he had squared himself with +himself. + +"Who's running the governor's camp?" asked Jack. + +"They brought up Jean Paul Ascota from the Crossing." + +"So!" said Jack, considerably interested. "The conjuror and medicine +man, eh? I hear great tales of him from all the tribes. What is he?" + +Cranston exhibited no love for the man under discussion. "His father +and mother were half-breed Crees," he said. "He has a little place at +the Crossing where he lives alone--he never married--but most of the +time he is tripping; long hikes from Abittibi to the Skeena, and from +the edge of the farming country clear to Herschel Island in the Arctic, +generally alone. Too much business, and too mysterious for an Indian, +I say. He's a strong man in his way, he has a certain power, you +wouldn't overlook him in a crowd; but I doubt if he's up to any good. +He's one of those natives that plays double, you know them, a white man +wi' white men, and a red wi' the reds. Much too smooth and plausible +for my taste. Lately he has got religion, and he goes around wi' a +Bible in his pocket, which is plumb ridiculous, knowing what you and I +know about his conjuring practices among the tribes." + +"I've heard he's a good tripper," said Jack. + +"Oh, none better," said Cranston. "I'll say that for him; there's no +man knows the whole country like he does, or a better hand in a canoe, +or with horses, or around the camp. But, look you, after all he's only +an Indian. Here he's been with these people a week, and already his +head is turned. They don't know what they're doing, so they defer to +him in everything, and consequently the Indian's head is that swelled +wi' giving orders to white men his feet can hardly keep the ground. +Their camp is at a standstill." + +"Hm!" said Jack; "it's a childish outfit, isn't it? It would be a kind +of charity to take them in hand." + +A little later Jack ran into the redoubtable Jean Paul Ascota himself, +whom he immediately recognized from Cranston's description. As the +trader had intimated, there was something strongly individual and +peculiar in the aspect of the half-breed. He was a handsome man of +forty-odd years, not above the average in height, but very broad and +strong, and with regular, aquiline features. Though Cranston had said +he was half-bred, there was no sign of the admixture of any white blood +in his coppery skin, his straight black hair, and his savage, +inscrutable eyes. He was dressed in a neatly fitting suit of black, +and he wore "outside" shoes instead of the invariable moccasins. This +ministerial habit was relieved by a fine blue shirt with a rolling +collar and a red tie, and the whole was completed by the usual +expensive felt hat with flaring, stiff brim. A Testament peeped out of +one side-pocket. + +But it was the strange look of his eyes that set the man apart, a +still, rapt look, a shine as from close-hidden fires. They were +savage, ecstatic, contemptuous eyes. When he looked at you, you had +the feeling that there was a veil dropped between you, invisible to +you, but engrossed with cabalistic symbols that he was studying while +he appeared to be looking at you. In all this there was a certain +amount of affectation. You could not deny the man's force, but there +was something childish too in the egregious vanity which was perfectly +evident. + +He was sitting on a box in the midst of the camp disarray, smoking +calmly, the only idle figure in sight. Tents, poles, and miscellaneous +camp impedimenta were strewn on one side of the trail; on the other the +deck-hands were piling the stores of the party. Sidney Vassall, with +his inventory, assisted by Baldwin Ferrie, both in a state approaching +distraction, were pawing over the boxes and bundles, searching for +innumerable lost articles, that were lost again as soon as they were +found. + +Vassall was not a particularly sympathetic figure to Jack, but the +sight of the white men stewing while the Indian loafed was too much for +his Anglo-Saxon sense of the fitness of things. His choler promptly +rose, and, drawing Vassall aside, he said: + +"Look here, why do you let that beggar impose on you like this? You'll +never be able to manage him if you knuckle down now." + +Vassall was a typical A.D.C. from the provinces, much better fitted to +a waxed floor than the field. The hero of a hundred drawing-rooms made +rather a pathetic figure in his shapeless, many-pocketed "sporting" +suit. His much-admired manner of indiscriminate, enthusiastic +amiability seemed to have lost its potency up here. + +"What can I do?" he said helplessly. "He says he can't work himself, +or he won't be able to boss the Indians that are coming." + +"Rubbish!" said Jack. "Everybody has to work on the trail. I'll put +him to work for you. Show me how the tents go." + +Vassall gratefully explained the arrangement. There was a square tent +in the centre, with three smaller A-tents opening off. Jack measured +the ground and drove the stakes. Then spreading the canvas on the +ground, preparatory to raising it, he called cheerfully: + +"Lend a hand here, Jean Paul. You hold up the poles while I pull the +ropes." + +The half-breed looked at him with cool, slow insolence, and dropping +his eyes to his pipe, pressed the tobacco in the bowl with a delicate +finger. He caught his hands around his knee, and leaned back with the +expression of one enjoying a recondite joke. + +Jack's face reddened. Promptly dropping the canvas, he strode toward +the half-breed, his hands clenching as he went. + +"Look here, you damned redskin!" he said, not too loud. "If you can't +hear a civil request, I've a fist to back it up, understand? You get +to work, quick, or I'll knock your head off!" + +The native deck hands stopped dead to see what would happen. Out of +the blue sky the thunderbolt of a crisis had fallen. Jean Paul, the +object of their unbounded fear and respect, they invested with +supernatural powers, and they looked to see the white man annihilated. + +The breed slowly raised his eyes again, but this time they could not +quite meet the blazing blue ones. There was a pregnant pause. Finally +Jean Paul got up with a shrug of bravado, and followed Jack back to the +tents. He was beaten without a blow on either side. A breath of +astonishment escaped the other natives. Jean Paul heard it, and the +iron entered his soul. The glance he bent on Jack's back glittered +with the cold malignancy of a poisonous snake. It was all over in a +few seconds and the course of the events for weeks to come was decided, +a course involving, at the last, madness, murder, and suicide. + +On the face of it the work proceeded smartly, and by lunch time the +tents were raised, the furniture and the baggage stowed within, and +Vassall's vexatious inventory checked complete. His effusive gratitude +made Jack uncomfortable. Jack cut him short, and nonchalantly returned +to his own camp, where he cooked his dinner and ate it alone. + +Afterward, cleaning his gun by the fire, he reviewed the crowded events +of the past twenty-four hours in the ever-delightful, off-hand, +cocksure fashion of youth that the oldsters envy, while they smile at +it. His glancing thoughts ran something like this: + +"To be put to sleep like that! Damn! But I couldn't see what I was +doing. If it hadn't been dark! ... At any rate, nobody knows. It's +good he didn't black my eye. Cranston'll never tell. He's a square +old head all right. I suppose it was coming to me. Damn! ... I like +Cranston, though. He's making up to me now. He'd like me to marry the +girl. She'd take me quick enough. Nice little thing, too. Fine eyes! +But marriage! Not on your cartridge-belt! Not for Jack Chanty! The +world is too full of sport. I haven't nearly had my fill! ... The +governor's daughter! Rather a little strawberry, too. Professional +angler. I know 'em. Got a whole bookful of fancy flies for men. +Casts them prettily one after another till you rise, then plop! into +her basket with the other dead fish. You'll never get me on your hook, +little sister... I can play a little myself. If you let on you don't +care, with that kind, it drives 'em wild.... Shouldn't wonder if she +had old Frank going.... Rum start, meeting him up here. What a scared +look he gave me. I wonder! ... He's changed.... Very likely it's +politics, and graft, and getting on in the world. Doesn't want to +associate too closely with a tough like me, now.... Oh, very well! +These big-bugs can't put me out of face. I can show them a thing or +two.... I put that Indian down in good shape. I have the trick of it. +He's a queer one. They'll have trouble with him later. Women with +them, too. Hell of an outfit to come up here, anyway." + +Jack's meditations were interrupted by Frank Garrod, who came threading +his way through the poplar saplings. Jack sprang up with a gladness +only a little less hearty than upon their first meeting the night +before. + +"Hello, old fel'!" he cried. "Glad you looked me up! We can talk off +here by ourselves." + +But it appeared that Frank had come only for the purpose of carrying +Jack back with him. Sir Bryson had expressed a wish to thank him for +his assistance that morning. Jack frowned, and promptly declined the +honour, but upon second thought he changed his mind. There was a plan +growing in his head which necessitated a talk with Sir Bryson. + +They made their way back together, Frank making an unhappy attempt to +appear at his ease. He had something on his mind. He started to +speak, faltered, and fell silent. But it troubled him still. Finally +it came out. + +"I say," he said in his jerky way, "as long as you want to keep your +real name quiet, we had better not let on that we are old friends, eh?" + +Jack looked at him quickly, all his enthusiasm of friendliness dying +down. + +"We can seem to become good friends by degrees," Garrod went on lamely. +"It need only be a matter of a few days." + +"Just as you like," said Jack coolly. + +"But it's you I'm thinking of." + +"You needn't," said Jack. "I don't care what people call me. You +needn't be afraid that I'll trouble you with my society." + +"You don't understand," Garrod murmured miserably. + +However, in merely bringing the matter up he had accomplished his +purpose, for Jack never acted quite the same to him afterward. + +A little to one side of the tents they came upon a group of finished +worldliness such as had never before been seen about Fort Cheever. +From afar, the younger Cranston boys stared at it awestruck. Miss +Trangmar and her companion sat in two of the folding chairs, basking in +the sun, while Vassall and Baldwin Ferrie reclined on the grass at +their feet, the former, his day's work behind him, now clad in +impeccable flannels. The centre of the picture was naturally the +little beauty, looking in her purple summer dress as desirable, as +fragile, and as expensive as an orchid. At the sight of her Jack's +nostrils expanded a little in spite of himself. Lovely ladies who +metamorphosed themselves every day, not to speak of several times a +day, were novel to him. + +As the two men made to enter the main tent she called in her sweet, +high voice: "Present our benefactor, Mr. Garrod." + +Garrod brought Jack to her. Garrod was very much confused. +"I----I"--he stammered, looking imploringly at Jack. + +"They call me Jack Chanty," Jack said quietly, with his air of "take it +or leave it." + +"Miss Trangmar, Mrs. Worsley," Garrod murmured looking relieved. + +Jack bowed stiffly. + +"We are tremendously obliged," the little lady said, making her eyes +big with gratitude. "Captain Vassall says he would never have got +through without you." + +A murmur of assent went round the circle. Jack would not out of sheer +obstinacy make the polite and obvious reply. He looked at the elder +lady. He liked her looks. She reminded him of an outspoken cousin of +his boyhood. She was plain of feature and humorous-looking, very well +dressed, and with an air of high tolerance for human failings. + +"In pleasing Miss Trangmar you put us all under heavy obligations," +said Baldwin Ferrie with a simper. He was a well-meaning little man. + +"By Jove! yes," added Vassall; "when she's overcast we're all in +shadow." + +Everybody laughed agreeably. + +"Mercy!" exclaimed Linda Trangmar, "one would think I had a fearful +temper, and kept you all in fear of your lives!" + +There was a chorus of disclaimers. Jack felt slightly nauseated. He +looked away. The girl stole a wistful glance at his scornful profile, +the plume of fair hair, the cold blue eyes, the resolute mouth. All of +a sudden she had become conscious of the fulsome atmosphere, too. She +wondered what secrets the proud youthful mask concealed. She wondered +if there was a woman for whom the mask was dropped, and if she were +prettier than herself. + +Meanwhile Jack felt as if he were acting like a booby, standing there. +He was impelled to say something, anything, to show them he was not +overcome by their assured worldliness. He addressed himself to Vassall. + +"You have had no trouble with the Indian, since?" + +"None whatever," Vassall said. "He's gone off now with some of the +people here." + +Garrod took advantage of the next lull to say: "Sir Bryson is waiting +for us." + +Jack bowed again, and made a good retreat. + +"I told you he was a gentleman," said Linda to Mrs. Worsley. + +That lady had been impressed with the same fact, but she said +cautiously, as became a chaperon: "His manner is rather brusque." + +"But he has manner," remarked Linda slyly. + +"We know nothing about him, my dear." + +"That's just it," said Linda. "Fancy meeting a real mystery in these +matter-of-fact days. I shall find out his right name." + +"They say it's not polite to ask questions about a man's past in this +country," suggested Vassall with a playful air. + +"Nor safe," put in Mrs. Worsley. + +"Who cares for safety?" cried Linda. "I came North for adventures, and +I mean to have them! Isn't he handsome?" she added wickedly. + +The two men assented without enthusiasm. + +Within the main tent Sir Bryson was seated at a table, looking the very +pink of official propriety. There were several piles of legal +documents and miscellaneous papers before him, with which he appeared +to be busily occupied. It was noticeable that his chief concern was to +have the piles arranged with mathematical precision. He never finished +shaking and patting them straight. At first he ignored Jack. Handing +some papers to Garrod, he said: + +"These are now ready to be sent, Mr. Garrod. Please bear in mind my +various instructions concerning them." + +Garrod retired to another table. He proceeded to fold and enclose the +various documents, but from the tense poise of his head it was clear +that he followed all that was said. + +Sir Bryson now affected to become aware of Jack's presence with a +little start. He looked him up and down as one might regard a fine +horse he was called on to admire. "So this is the young man who was of +so much assistance to us this morning?" he said with a smile of heavy +benignity. + +Jack suppressed an inclination to laugh in his face. + +"We are very much obliged to you, young sir--very," said Sir Bryson +grandly. + +"It was nothing, sir," said Jack, smiling suddenly. He knew if he +caught Garrod's eye he would burst out laughing. + +"I now desire to ask you some questions relative to the big canyon," +continued Sir Bryson. "I am told you know it." + +"I have just come from there," said Jack. + +"Is there a good trail?" + +"I came by water. But I know the trail. It is well-travelled. There +are no muskegs, and the crossings are easy." + +"You know the canyon well?" + +"I have been working above it for three months." + +Sir Bryson favoured Jack with a beady glance. "Um!" he said. And then +suddenly: "Are you free for the next month or so?" + +Garrod raised his eyes with a terrified look. + +"That depends," said Jack. + +"Are you prepared to consider an offer to guide our party?" + +Garrod bit his lips to keep back the protest that sprang to them. + +"If it is sufficiently attractive," said Jack coolly. + +Sir Bryson opened his eyes. "Three dollars a day, and everything +found," he said sharply. + +Jack smiled, and shook his head. "That is the ordinary pay of a white +man in this country," he said. "This is a responsible job. I'd expect +five at least." + +Sir Bryson made a face of horror. "Out of the question!" he exclaimed. + +"I'm not at all anxious for it at any price," said Jack. "It will be +difficult. You are very badly provided----" + +"We have everything!" cried Sir Bryson. + +"Except necessities," said Jack. "Moreover, men should have been +engaged in advance, good packers, boatmen, axemen. We can't get good +material on the spur of the moment, and I have no wish to be blamed for +what goes wrong by others' doing." + +Sir Bryson puffed out his cheeks. "You take a good deal on yourself, +young man," he said heatedly. "Let me ask you a few questions now if +you please. What is your name?" + +"I am known throughout the country as Jack Chanty." + +"But your real name." + +"I do not care to give it." + +A long breath escaped slowly from between Garrod's clenched teeth, and +he wiped his face. + +The little governor swelled like a pouter pigeon. "Tut!" he exclaimed. +"This is preposterous. Do you think I would entrust myself and my +party to a nameless nobody from nowhere?" + +Sir Bryson, pleased with the sound of this phrase, glanced over at +Garrod for approval. + +"I'm not after the job, Sir Bryson," said Jack coolly. "You opened the +matter. I am known throughout the country. Ask Cranston." + +Garrod, seeing his chief about to weaken, could no longer hold his +peace. "Wouldn't it be as well to let the matter go over?" he +suggested casually. + +Sir Bryson turned on him very much annoyed. "Mr. Garrod, by your +leave," he said crushingly. "I was about to make the suggestion +myself. That will be all just now," he added to Jack. + +Jack sauntered away to talk the matter over with Cranston. + +Sir Bryson spoke his mind warmly to his secretary concerning the +latter's interference. Garrod, however, relieved of Jack's presence, +recovered a measure of sang-froid. + +"I'm sorry," he said smoothly, "but I couldn't stand by and listen to +the young ruffian browbeat you." + +"Browbeat nothing," said the irate little governor. "Bargaining is +bargaining! He stands out for as much as he can." + +Garrod turned pale. "You're surely not thinking of engaging him!" he +said. + +"There's no one else," said Sir Bryson. + +"But he's more insolent than the Indian," said Garrod nervously. "And +who is he? what is he? Some nameless fugitive from justice!" + +"You overlook the fact that he doesn't care whether I engage him or +not," said Sir Bryson. "Our assurance lies in that." + +"A shallow pretence," cried Garrod. + +Sir Bryson turned squarely in his chair. "You seem to be strangely set +against hiring this fellow," he said curiously. + +Garrod was effectually silenced. With a gesture, he went on with his +work. + +Later he sought out Jack again. They sat on a bench at the edge of the +bank, and Garrod suffered himself to answer some painful questions +first, in order that he might not appear to be too eager to broach the +subject that agitated his mind. + +At last he said with an assumed heartiness in which there was something +very painful to see: "I tell you it did me good to hear you giving the +old man what for this afternoon. He leads me a dog's life!" + +"Oh, that was only in the way of a dicker," said Jack carelessly. "He +expected it. Any one could see he loves a bargain." + +"Don't let yourself in for this one," said Garrod earnestly. "You'll +repent it if you do. He'll interfere all the time, and insist on his +own way, then blame you when things go wrong." + +"The trouble with you is you're in awe of him because he's the Big +Chief outside," said Jack. "That doesn't go up here." + +"Then you mean to come?" faltered Garrod. + +"If he accepts my terms," said Jack. "I don't mean to let myself go +too cheap." + +Garrod's head drooped. "Well--don't say I didn't warn you," he said in +an odd, flat tone. + + + + +V + +JACK HEARS ABOUT HIMSELF + +Jack was subsequently engaged as chief guide to Sir Bryson's party. +Days of strenuous preparation succeeded. For one thing the stores of +the expedition had to undergo a rigid weeding-out process; the +oil-stove, the bedsteads, the white flannels, and the parasols, etc., +were left behind. There was a shortage of flour and bacon, which the +store at Fort Cheever was in poor shape to supply. Last winter's grub +was almost exhausted, and this winter's supply had not arrived. The +Indians, who are the store's only customers, live off the land during +the summer. Cranston stripped himself of what he had, and sent a +messenger down the river with an urgent order for more to be sent up by +the next boat. + +Jack was hampered by a lack of support from his own party. Vassall and +Baldwin Ferrie were willing enough but incapable. Garrod blew hot and +cold, and altogether acted in a manner inexplicable to Jack. Only the +man's obvious suffering prevented the two from coming to an open +quarrel. Jack dismissed him with a contemptuous shrug. The little +governor issued and countermanded his orders bewilderingly and any +malcontent was always sure of a hearing from him. But Jean Paul +Ascota, from whom Jack had most reason to expect mischief-making, gave +him no trouble at all. This in itself might have warned him of danger, +but he had too many other things to think about. + +It cannot be said that Jack bore all his hindrances with exemplary +patience. However, he had an effective weapon in his unconcern. When +matters came to a deadlock he laughed, and, retiring to his own little +camp, occupied himself with his banjo until some one came after him +with an olive branch. They were absolutely dependent on him. + +On the eighth day they finally got away. Mounting his horse, Jack took +up a position on a little mound by the trail, and watched his company +file past. For himself he had neglected none of the stage-trappings +dear to the artistic sense of a young man. His horse was the best in +the company and the best accoutred. + +He had secured a pair of shaggy bearskin chaps and from his belt hung a +gigantic .44 in a holster. He wore a dashing broad-brimmed "Stetson," +and a gay silk handkerchief knotted loosely around his throat. The +sight of him sitting there, hand on hip, with his scornful air, +affected little Linda Trangmar like a slight stab. She bit her lip, +called herself a fool, and spurred ahead. + +Jean Paul Ascota rode at the head of the procession. Jack had seen the +wisdom of propitiating him with this empty honour. The Indian had +likewise seen to it that he obtained a good horse, and he rode like a +careless Centaur. Passing Jack, his face was as blank as paper, but +out of Jack's range of vision the black eyes narrowed balefully, the +wide nostrils dilated, and the lips were tightly compressed. + +Sir Bryson's party followed: the spruce little governor, an incongruous +figure on his sorry cayuse; the two ladies, Garrod, Vassall, and +Baldwin Ferrie. At the very start Sir Bryson objected to riding at the +tail of Jean Paul's horse, and Jack was obliged to explain to him that +there are certain rules of the trail which even a lieutenant-governor +may not override. The place at the head belongs to him who can best +follow or make a trail. + +The two ladies wore khaki divided skirts that they had been obliged to +contrive for themselves, since side-saddles are unknown in the country. +In regard to Miss Trangmar and Mrs. Worsley, Jack had strongly urged +that they be left at Fort Cheever, and in this matter Garrod had almost +desperately supported him, volunteering to stay behind to look after +them. His activity booted him nothing with his little mistress. When +she heard of the suggestion she merely smiled and waited until she got +her father alone. As a result here they were. + +There was one more white member of the expedition of whom some +explanation must be given: this was Thomas Jull, lately cook on the +steamboat, and now transferred to the position of camp cook. The whole +design of the journey had been threatened with extinction at Fort +Cheever by the discovery that a cook had been forgotten. There was of +course nothing of that kind to be obtained at the fort. Jull's cooking +had all been done on stoves, but Jack, promising to initiate him into +the mysteries of campfires, had tempted him to forsake his snug berth. + +He was a fat, pale, and puffy creature of indeterminate age, who looked +as if his growth had been forced in a cellar, but he was of a simple, +willing nature, and he had conceived an enormous admiration for Jack, +who was so different from himself. He had already acquired a nickname +in the country from his habit of carrying his big head as if in +momentary expectation of a blow. Humpy Jull he was to be henceforth. + +Four Indian lads completed the party. This was barely sufficient to +pack the horses and make camp, but as Jack had explained to Sir Bryson +the best he could get were a poor lot, totally unaccustomed to any +discipline, and a larger number of them would only have invited +trouble. They must be worked hard, and kept under close subjection to +the whites, he said. There were twenty laden horses, and five spare +animals. + +They climbed the steep high hill behind Fort Cheever and Jack, watching +the train wind up before him, thrilled a little with satisfaction under +his mask of careless hardihood. Notwithstanding all his preliminary +difficulties, it was a businesslike-looking outfit. Besides, it is not +given to many young men in their twenties to command a +lieutenant-governor. + +This was not really a hill, but the river-bank proper. From the top of +it the prairie stretched back as far as the eye could reach, green as +an emerald sea at this season, and starred with flowers. Here and +there in the broad expanse grew coverts of poplar saplings and +wolf-willow, making a parklike effect. The well-beaten trail mounted +the smooth billows, and dipped into the troughs of the grassy sea like +an endless brown ribbon spreading before them. + +The progress of such a party is very slow. The laden pack-horses +cannot be induced to travel above a slow, slow walk. Twice a day they +must be unladen and turned out to forage; then caught and carefully +packed again. On the first day a good deal of confusion attended these +operations. Little by little Jack brought order out of chaos. + +As the pack-train got under way after the first "spell" on the prairie, +Jack, not generally so observant of such things, was struck by the look +of weariness and pain in Garrod's white face. It was the face of a man +whose nerves have reached the point of snapping. Jack did not see as +far as that, but: "The old boy's in a bad way," he thought, with a +return of his old kindness. After all, as youths, these two had been +inseparable. + +"I say, wait behind and ride with me," he said to Garrod. "We've +scarcely had a chance to say anything to each other." + +Garrod's start and the wild roll of his black eyes suggested nothing +but terror at the idea, but there was no reasonable excuse he could +offer. They rode side by side in the grass at some distance behind the +last Indian. + +"Do you know," said Jack, "I've never heard a word from home since the +night I cleared out five years ago. Tell me everything that's +happened." + +"That's a large--a large order," stammered Garrod. "So many little +things. I forget them. Nothing important. I left Montreal myself +soon after you did." + +"Why did you never answer my letter?" asked Jack. "You know I had no +one to write to but you." + +"I never got a letter," said Garrod quickly. + +"That's funny," said Jack. "Letters don't often go astray." + +"Don't you believe me?" demanded Garrod sharply. + +Jack stared. "Why, sure!" he said. "What's biting you? You're in a +rotten state of nerves," he went on. "Better chuck the life you're +leading, and stay up here for a year or two. What's the matter with +you?" + +Garrod passed the back of his hand across his weary eyes. "Can't +sleep," he muttered. + +"Never heard of a man up here that couldn't do his eight hours a +night," said Jack. "You'd better stay." + +Garrod made no answer. + +"You're not still hitting the old pace?" asked Jack. + +Garrod shook his head. + +"Gad! what a pair of young fools we were! Trying to cut a dash on +bank-clerks' salaries! That girl did me a mighty good turn without +meaning it when she chucked me for the millionaire. What's become of +her, Frank?" + +"She married him," Garrod said; "ruined him, divorced him, and married +another millionaire." + +Jack laughed carelessly. "Logical, eh? And that was what I broke my +young heart over! Remember the night I said good-bye to you in the +Bonaventure station, and blubbered like a kid? I said my life was +over, 'member?--and I wasn't twenty-one yet. You were damn decent to +me, Frank. You didn't laugh." + +Garrod kept his head averted. His lips were very white. + +"We went through quite a lot for a pair of kids," Jack went on. "We +always stood by each other, though we were such idiots in other +respects. What we needed was a good birching. It takes a year or two +of working up here to put an only son straight with himself. Life is +simple and natural up here; you're bound to see the right of things. +Better stay, and get your health back, old man." + +Garrod merely shook his head again. + +"My uncle is dead," Jack went on. "I saw it in a paper." + +"Yes," said Garrod. + +"And left his pile to a blooming hospital! That's what I lost for +clearing out, I suppose. Well, I don't regret it--much. That is, not +the money. But I'm sorry the old boy passed out with a grouch against +me. I thought he would understand. He had a square head. I've often +thought there must have been something else. You were quite a +favourite of his, Frank. Was there anything else?" + +All this time Garrod had not looked at Jack. At the last question a +wild and impatient look flashed in his sick eyes as if some power of +endurance had snapped within him. He jerked his head toward the other +man with desperate speech on his lips. It was never uttered, for at +the same moment an exclamation broke from Jack, and clapping heels to +his horse, he sprang ahead. One of the packs had slipped, and the +animal that bore it was sitting in the trail like a dog. + +After the pack had been readjusted, other things intervened, Garrod +regained his own place in the procession, and Jack for the time being +forgot that his question had not been answered. + +Jack's dignity as the commander of the party often sat heavily upon +him, and he was fond of dropping far behind in the trail, where he +could loll in the saddle, and sing and whistle to his heart's ease. +His spirits always rose when he was on the move, and the sun was +shining. + +Jack had a great store of old English ballads. On one such occasion he +was informing high heaven of the merits of "Fair Hebe," when upon +coming around a poplar bluff he was astonished to see Linda Trangmar +standing beside her horse, listening with a smile of pretty malice. +She had a bunch of pink flowers that she had gathered. Jack sharply +called in the song, and blushed to his ears. + +"Don't stop," she said. "What did Reason tell you about Fair Hebe?" + +Jack made believe not to hear. Our hero hated to be made fun of. +"It's dangerous to be left behind by the outfit," he said stiffly. + +"I knew you were coming," she said coolly. "Besides, I got off to pick +these flowers, and I couldn't get on again without being helped." She +thrust the flowers in her belt. "Aren't they lovely? Like crushed +strawberries. What are they called?" + +"Painter's brush," said Jack laconically. + +He lifted her on her horse. She was very light. It was difficult to +believe that this pale and pretty little thing was a woman grown. She +had a directness of speech that was only saved from downright impudence +by her pretty childishness. + +"Now we can talk," she said as they started their horses. "The truth +is, I stayed behind on purpose to talk to you. I wish to make friends." + +Jack, not knowing exactly what to say, said nothing. + +She darted an appraising look at him. "Mr. Vassall says it's dangerous +to ask a man questions about himself up here," she went on. "But I +want to ask you some questions. May I? Do you mind?" + +This was accompanied by a dazzling smile. Jack slowly grew red again. +He hated himself for being put out of countenance by her impudence, +nevertheless it cast him up high and dry. + +She took his assent for granted. "In the first place, about your +name," she chattered; "what am I to call you? Mr. Chanty would be +ridiculous, and without the Mister it's too familiar." + +"You don't have to bother about a handle to my name," he said. "Call +me Jack, just as you speak to Jean Paul or Charlbogin, or any of the +men about camp." + +"That's different," she said. "I do not call Mr. Garrod, Frank, nor +Captain Vassall, Sidney. You can make believe what you choose, but I +know you are my kind of person. If you are a Canadian, I'm sure we +know heaps and heaps of the same people." + +Jack began to find himself. "If you insist on a respectable name call +me Mr. 'Awkins," he said lightly. + +"Pshaw! Is that the best you can invent?" she said. + +It was a long time since Jack had played conversational battledore and +shuttlecock. He found he liked it rather. "'Awkins is an honorable +name," he said. "There's Sir 'Awkeye 'Awkins of 'Awkwood 'All, not to +speak of 'Enery 'Awkins and Liza that everybody knows about. And over +on this side there's Happy Hawkins. All relatives of mine." + +The girl approved him because he played the foolish game without +grinning foolishly, like most men. Indeed his lip still curled. "You +do not resemble the 'Awkinses I have known," she said. + +It appeared from this that the little lady could flatter men as well as +queen it over them. Jack was sensible that he was being flattered, and +being human, he found it not unpleasant. At the same time he was +determined not to satisfy her curiosity. + +"Sorry," he said. "For your sake I wish I would lay claim to +Montmorenci or Featherstonehaugh. But 'Awkins is my name and 'umble is +my station. I don't know any of the Vere de Veres, the Cholmondeleys +or the Silligers here in Canada, only the toughs." + +She did not laugh. Abandoning the direct line, she asked: "What do you +do up here regularly?" + +"Nothing regularly," he said with a smile. "A little of everything +irregularly. I have horses across the mountains, and I make my living +by packing freight to the trading posts, or for surveyors or private +parties, wherever horses are needed. When I get a little ahead of the +game like everybody else, I do a bit of prospecting. I have an eye on +one or two things----" + +"Gold?" she said with shining eyes. "Where?" + +"That would be telling," said Jack, flicking his pony. + +"Do you know anybody in Toronto?" she asked suddenly. + +He smiled at her abrupt return to the main issue, and shook his head. + +"In Montreal?" + +His face changed a little. After a moment he said slyly: "I met a +fellow across the mountains who was from Montreal." + +"A gentleman?" + +"More or less." + +"What was his name?" she demanded. + +"Malcolm Piers." + +She looked at him with round eyes. "How exciting!" she cried. + +"Exciting?" said Jack, very much taken aback. + +"Why, yes," she said. "There can't be more than one by that name. It +must have been Malcolm Piers the absconder." + +Her last word had much the effect of a bomb explosion under Jack's +horse. The animal reared violently, almost falling back on his rider. +Linda was not sufficiently experienced on horseback to see that Jack's +hand had spasmodically given the cruel Western bit a tremendous tug. +The horse plunged and violently shook his head to free himself of the +pain. When he finally came back to earth, the actions of the horse +seemed sufficient to account for the sudden grimness of Jack's +expression. His upper lip had disappeared, leaving only a thin, hard +line. + +"Goodness!" said Linda nervously. "These horses are unexpected." + +"What did you call him?" asked Jack quietly. + +"Absconder," she said innocently. "Malcolm Piers was the boy who stole +five thousand dollars from the Bank of Canada, and was never heard of +afterward. He was only twenty." + +He looked at her stupidly. "Five thousand dollars!" he repeated more +than once. "Why that's ridiculous!" + +"Oh, no," she said eagerly. "Everybody knows the story. He +disappeared, and so did the money. I heard all the particulars at the +time, because my room-mate at Havergal was the sister of the girl they +said he did it for. She wasn't to blame, poor thing. She proved that +she had sent him about his business before it happened. She married a +millionaire afterward. She's had heaps of trouble." + +Jack's horse fretted and danced, and no answer was required of him. + +"Fancy your meeting him," she said excitingly. "Do tell me about him. +They said he was terribly good-looking. Was he?" + +"Don't ask me," said Jack gruffly. "I'm no judge of a man's looks." +He scarcely knew what he was saying. The terrible word rang in his +head with a clangour as of blows on naked iron. "Absconder!" + +"Do tell me about him," she repeated. "Criminals are so deadly +interesting! When they're gentlemen. I mean. And he was so young!" + +"You said everybody knows what he did," said Jack dully. "I never +heard of it." + +"I meant everybody in our world," she said. "It never got in the +newspapers of course. Malcolm Piers's uncle was a director in the +bank, and he made the shortage good. He died a year or so afterward, +leaving everything to a hospital. If Malcolm Piers had only waited a +little while he wouldn't have had to steal the money." + +"Then he would have been a millionaire, too," said Jack, with a start +of harsh laughter. + +She didn't understand the allusion. She favoured him with a sharp +glance. "Funny he should have told you his real name." + +"Why not?" said Jack abstractedly. "He didn't consider that he had +done any wrong!" + +How ardently Jack wished her away so that he could think it out by +himself. Little by little it was becoming clear to him, as if revealed +by the baleful light of a flame. So that was why his uncle had cut him +off? And Garrod had not answered his question. Garrod knew all about +it. Garrod was the only person in the world who knew in advance that +he had been going to clear out, never to return. Garrod was deep in +debt at the time. Garrod had access to the bank's vault. This +explained his strange, wild agitation at the time of their first +meeting, and his actions ever since. + +"What's become of him now?" Linda desired to know. She had to ask +twice. + +Jack heard her as from a great distance. He shrugged. "You can't keep +track of men up here." + +"Did he tell you his story?" + +He nodded. "It was different from yours," he said grimly. + +"Tell me." + +"It is true that he was infatuated with a certain girl----" + +"Yes, Amy----" + +"Oh, never mind her name! It was difficult for him to keep up the pace +she and her friends set, but she led him on. Finally she made up her +mind that an old man with money was a better gamble than a young one +with prospects only, and she coolly threw him over. It broke him all +up. He was fool enough to love her. Everything he had known up to +that time became hateful to him. So he lit out. But he took nothing +with him. Indeed, he stripped himself of every cent, sold even his +clothes to pay his debts around town before he went. He came West on +an emigrant car. Out here he rode for his grub, he sold goods behind a +counter, he even polished glasses behind a bar, until he got his head +above water." + +This was a long speech for Jack, and in delivering it he was betrayed +into a dangerous heat. The girl watched him with a sparkle of +mischievous excitement. + +"A likely story," she said, tossing her head. "I know that old Mr. +McInnes had to put up the money, and that he altered his will." She +smiled provokingly. "Besides, it's much more interesting to think that +Malcolm Piers took the money. Don't rob me of my favourite criminal." + +Jack looked at her with his handsome brows drawn close together. Her +flippancy sounded incredible to him. He hated her at that moment. + +A horseman dropped out of his place in the train ahead and came +trotting back toward them. It was Garrod. Seeing him, a deep, ugly +red suffused Jack's neck and face, and a vein on his forehead stood +out. But he screwed down the clamps of his self-control. Pride would +not allow him to betray the secrets of his heart to the light-headed +little girl who was angling for them. They were riding around another +little poplar wood. + +"Look!" he said in as near his natural voice as he could contrive. "In +the shade the painter's brush grows yellow. Shall I get you some of +those?" + +"No, thank you," she said inattentively. "I like the others best. +Tell me about Malcolm Piers----" + +Garrod was now upon them. His harassed eye showed a new pain. He +looked at Linda Trangmar with a dog's anxiety, and from her to Jack. +Jack looked abroad over the prairie with his lips pursed up. His face +was very red. + +"Oh, Mr. Garrod, what do you think!" cried the girl. "This man met +Malcolm Piers across the mountains. The boy who absconded from the +Bank of Canada, you know. You used to know him, didn't you?" + +There was a pause, dreadful to the two men. + +"Oh, the little fool! The little fool!" thought Jack. Out of sheer +mercifulness he kept his head averted from Garrod. + +"What's the matter?" he heard her say sharply. "Help him!" she said to +Jack. + +This was too much. Making sure only that Garrod was able to keep his +saddle, Jack muttered something about having to speak to Jean Paul, and +rode away. His anger was swallowed up a pitying disgust. His passing +glance into Garrod's face had revealed a depth of despair that it +seemed unfair, shameful, he--the man's enemy--should be allowed to see. + + + + +VI + +THE PRICE OF SLEEP + +They camped for the night on a grassy terrace at the edge of a deep +coulee in the prairie, through which a wasted stream made its way over +a bed of round stones toward the big river. The only full-sized trees +they had seen all day grew in the bottom of the coulee, which was so +deep that nothing of the branches showed over the edge. + +The horses were herded together, and unpacked in a wide circle. Each +pack and saddle under its own cover was left in its place in the +circle, against loading in the morning. As fast as unpacked the horses +were turned out to fill themselves with the rich buffalo grass. The +old mares who had mothered most of the bunch were hobbled and belled to +keep the band together. + +Jack, Jean Paul, and the Indian lads saw to the horses. Jack also +directed Vassall's and Baldwin Ferrie's inexpert efforts with the +tents, and between times he showed Humpy Jull how to make a fire. + +Sir Bryson, Linda, and Mrs. Worsley, in three of the folding chairs +which were the object of so much comment in the country, looked on at +all this. + +"I feel so useless," said Linda, following Jack's diverse activities, +without appearing to. "Don't you suppose there is something we could +do, Kate?" + +"It all seems like such heavy work, dear," said Mrs. Worsley. + +Sir Bryson, folding his hands upon his comfortable centre, beamed +indulgently on the busy scene. "Nonsense, Linda," he said. "They are +all paid for their exertions. You do not concern yourself with +household matters at home." + +"This is different," said Linda, a little sulkily. She was sorry she +had spoken, but Sir Bryson would not let the matter drop so easily. + +"How different?" he inquired. + +"Oh! up here things seem to fall away from you," said Linda vaguely. +"You get down to rock bottom." + +"Your metaphors are mixed, my dear," said Sir Bryson pleasantly. "I +don't understand you." + +"It doesn't matter," she said indifferently. + +"Now, for my part, I think this the most agreeable sight in the world," +Sir Bryson went on. "All these people working to make us comfortable, +and dinner coming on presently. It rests me. Fancy seeing one's +dinner cooked before one's eyes. I hope Jull has washed his hands. I +didn't see him do it." + +Sir Bryson had no intention of making a joke, but Mrs. Worsley laughed. + +"Speaking of dinner," continued Sir Bryson, "I hope there won't be any +awkwardness about our guide." + +"Jack Chanty?" said Linda quickly. "What about him?" + +"My dear! I wish you wouldn't be so free with his vulgar name! Do you +suppose he will expect to sit down with us?" + +"Why not?" said Linda warmly. "It's the custom of the country. The +whites eat together, and the Indians. Can't you see that things are +different up here? There are no social distinctions." + +"Then it is high time we introduced them," said Sir Bryson with the +indulgent smile of one who closes the matter. "I shall ask Mr. Garrod +to drop him a hint." + +"You'll only make yourself ridiculous if you do," said Linda. + +Mrs. Worsley spoke but seldom, and then to some purpose. She said now: +"Do you know, I think the matter will probably adjust itself if we +leave it alone." + +And she was right. Nothing was further from Jack's desires than to sit +down with the party in the big tent. Apart from other considerations +he knew which side his bread was buttered on, and he chummed with the +cook. Jack and Humpy slung their little tents side by side behind the +fire, and Jack waited to eat with Humpy after the others were through. + +It was Humpy Jull's debut as a waiter, and Sir Bryson was thereby +likewise provided with a new experience. Humpy was very willing and +good-natured. He was naturally a little flustered on this occasion, +and with him it took the form of an increased flow of speech. To his +simplicity, waiting on the table obligated him to play the host. + +"Walk in, people," he said genially. "Sit down anywheres. You'll have +to excuse me if I don't do things proper. I ain't had no experience at +the table with ladies. I never did have no face, anyway. A child +could put me out." + +Sir Bryson became turkey red, and looked at his aide-de-camp. Vassall +made believe not to see. + +"I'll just set everything on the table," Humpy went on innocently, "and +you dip right in for yourselves. The bannock ain't quite what it ought +to be. I didn't have the time. When we get a settled camp I'll show +you something better." + +"How far have we made to-day?" Sir Bryson asked pointedly of Vassall to +create a diversion. + +Humpy took the answer upon himself. "Eighteen miles, Governor," he +said. "We would have stopped at Mooseberry Spring two miles back, but +Jack said there was no firewood thereabout. So we're late to-night." + +"We have everything, thank you," said Sir Bryson icily. "You needn't +wait." + +"I don't mind, Governor," said Humpy heartily. "Jack and me ain't +going to eat till you are through. I want to make sure you folks gets +your fill." + +"I think the bannock is very good, Mr. Jull," said Linda wickedly. +"The raisins are so nice." + +"I had 'em and I thought I might as well put 'em in," said Humpy, +highly pleased. "Some finds it hard to make good baking-powder +bannock, but it come natural to me. Jack, he baked it for me." + +Sir Bryson ceased eating. It was Jack who prevented an explosion. +Possibly suspecting what was going on within the tent, he called Humpy. +Linda pricked up her ears at the sound. + +Humpy ducked for the door. "If there's anything you want don't be +afraid to sing out, Governor," he said. + +Sir Bryson slowly resumed his normal colour. He made no reference to +what had happened except to say severely: "Belinda, I'm surprised at +you!" + +"Oh! don't be stuffy, father," returned his daughter, inelegantly. + +The members of Sir Bryson's suite were accustomed to these little +passages. + +When they issued from the tent Jack Chanty and Humpy were to be seen +supping cheek by jowl beside the fire, and Linda said with a flash of +intuition: + +"I'll be bound, they're having a better supper than we had!" + +She was only guessing, but as a matter of fact, in the case of a party +as large as this, there are bound to be tidbits, such as a +prairie-chicken, a fish or a rabbit, not sufficient to furnish the +general table, and these naturally fall to the share of the cook and +his chum. + +Afterward, while the Indians washed the dishes, Jack smoked and Humpy +talked. Humpy was the kind of innocent braggart that tells tall tales +about nothing at all. He was grateful to Jack for even the appearance +of listening, and Jack in turn was glad of the prattle that enabled him +to keep his face while he thought his own thoughts. + +"Last winter when the steamboat was laid up," said Humpy Jull, "I was +teaming for the company down to Fort Ochre. Say, it's wild country +around there. The fellers advised me not to leave my gun behind when I +druv into the bush for poles. One day I was eatin' my lunch on a log +in the bush when I hear a grizzily bear growl, right behind me. Yes, +sir, a ding-gasted grizzily. I didn't see him. I didn't wait. I knew +it was a grizzily bear because the fellers say them's the on'y kind +that growls-like. Say, my skin crawled on me like insec's walkin' on +my bare bones. I never stop runnin' till I get back to the fort. The +hosses come in by themselves. Oh, I let 'em laugh. I tell you I +wa'n't takin' no chances with a grizzily!" + +Meanwhile Jack, for the first time in his life, was obliged to face a +moral crisis. Other threatening crises hitherto he had managed to +evade with youth's characteristic ingenuity in side-stepping the +disagreeable. The first time that a young brain is held up in its +happy-go-lucky career, and forced to think, is bound to be a painful +experience. + +Up to now Jack had taken his good name for granted. He had run away +when he felt like it, meaning to go back when he was ready. Now, when +he found it smirched he realized what an important thing a good name +was. He raged in his mind, and justly at the man who had destroyed it; +nevertheless a small voice whispered to him that it was partly his own +fault. For the first time, too, he realized that his name was not his +exclusive property; his father and mother had a share in it, though +they were no longer of the world. He thought too of the streets of the +city that was so dear to him, now filled with people who believed that +Malcolm Piers was a thief. + +The simplest thing was not to think about it at all, but go direct to +Frank Garrod, and "have it out" with him. But Jack was obliged to +recognize that this was no solution. Every time he had drawn near to +Frank since the afternoon, Frank had cringed and shown his fangs like a +sick animal, disgusting Jack, and making it impossible for him to speak +to Frank in any connection. A look in Frank's desperate eyes was +enough to show the futility of an appeal to his better feelings. +"Besides, I couldn't beg him to set me right," Jack thought, his hands +clenching, and the vein on his forehead swelling. + +Force then suggested itself as the only recourse, and the natural one +to Jack's direct nature. This was no good either. "He's a sick man," +Jack thought. "He couldn't stand up to me. If I struck him----" A +cold fear touched his heart at the thought that he had no way in the +world of proving himself honest, except by means of a free and +voluntary statement from a man who was obviously breaking, and even now +scarcely sane. + +The problem was too difficult for Jack to solve. He found himself +wishing for an older head to put it to. More than once his thoughts +turned to the wiser and older lady in Sir Bryson's party, to whom he +had not yet spoken. "I wish I could make friends with her," he thought. + + +The second day on the trail was largely a repetition of the first. The +routine of making and breaking camp proceeded more smoothly, that was +all. On this day as they rose over and descended the endless shallow +hills of the prairie, the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies rose into +view off to the west. + +Jack and Frank Garrod held no communication throughout the day. Garrod +showed an increased disorder in his dress, and a more furtive manner. +On the trail there were no secretarial duties to perform, and he kept +out of the way of the other white members of the party. He had always +been considered queer, and his increased queerness passed unnoticed +except by Jack, who held the clue, and by Jean Paul Ascota. The +half-breed watched Jack, watched Garrod, and drew his own conclusions. + +Jean Paul on the face of things was turning out an admirable servant, +capable, industrious, and respectful. The white men, including Jack, +would have been greatly astonished could they have heard the substance +of his low-voiced talk to the Indian lads around their own fire. + +"I held my hand," he said in Cree, "because the time is not come to +strike. One must suffer much and be patient for the cause. But I have +not forgotten. Before I am through with him, Jack shall be kicked out +of camp, and then he shall die. My medicine works slowly, but it is +very sure. + +"Jack is only one white man," he went on. With an ignorant, easily +swayed, savage audience Jean Paul was superb in his effect of quiet +intensity. "I will not let him spoil my plans against the race. The +time is almost ripe now. I have visited the great tribe of the +Blackfeet in the south. They are as many as the round stones in the +bars when the big river is low. I have talked with the head men. They +are ready. I have visited the Sarcees, the Stonies, the Bloods, and +the Piegans; all are ready when I give the word. And are we not ready +in the North, too? the Crees, the Beavers, the Sapis, the Kakisas, and +all the peoples across the mountain. When Ascota sends out his +messengers a fire shall sweep across the country that will consume +every white man to soft ashes!" + +Thus it went night after night. The four lads listened scowling, a hot +sense of the wrongs of the red race burning in each breast. But it was +like a fire in the grass, blazing up only to expire. They fell asleep +and forgot all about it until Jean Paul talked again. Perhaps they +sensed somehow that Jean Paul talked to them largely for the +satisfaction he got out of his own eloquence. + +To-night Jean Paul was watching Garrod. By and by Garrod wandered away +from the campfires, and Jean Paul followed. Garrod mooned aimlessly +around the tents with his head sunk on his breast, zigzagging to and +fro in the grass, flinging himself down, only to get up and walk again. +For a long time Jean Paul watched and followed him, crouching in the +grass in the semi-darkness. Finally Garrod sat down at the edge of the +coulee, and Jean Paul approached him openly. + +"Fine night," he said with an off-hand air. + +Garrod murmured an indistinguishable reply. + +"Me, I lak' to walk in the night the same as you," Jean Paul went on in +a voice indescribably smooth and insinuating. He sat beside the other +man. "I lak' sit by one black hole lak' this and look. It is so deep! +You feel bad?" he added. + +"My head," murmured Garrod. "It gives me no rest." + +"Um!" said Jean Paul. "I cure you. With my people I what you call +doctor." + +"Doctors can't do me any good," Garrod muttered. + +"Me, I not the same lak' other doctors," said Jean Paul calmly. +"First, I tell you what's the matter. Your body not sick; it's your, +what you call, your soul." + +Garrod looked at him with a start. + +Jean Paul lowered his voice. "You hate!" he hissed. + +"What damn nonsense is this?" said Garrod tremblingly. + +"What's the use to make believe?" said Jean Paul with a shrug. "I +doctor--conjuror they call me. I know. You know what I know." + +Garrod weakened. "Know what?" he said. "How do you know?" + +"I know because same way I hate," said Jean Paul softly. + +Garrod breathed fast. + +"Shall we put our hates together?" murmured Jean Paul. + +But there was still life in Garrod's pride of race. "This is +foolishness," he said contemptuously. "You're talking wild." + +Jean Paul shrugged. "Ver' good," he said. "You know to-morrow or some +day. There is plentee time." + +"Keep out of my way," said Garrod. "I don't want to have anything to +say to you." + +The darkness swallowed Jean Paul's smile. He murmured velvetly: "Me, I +t'ink you lak' ver' moch sleep to-night. Sleep all night." + +Garrod partly broke down. "Oh, my God!" he murmured, dropping his head +on his knees. + +"You got your pipe?" asked Jean Paul. "Give me, and I fill it." + +"What with?" demanded Garrod. + +"A little weed I pick," said Jean Paul. "No hurt anybody." + +"Here," said Garrod handing over his pipe with a jerk of bitter +laughter; "if it does for me, so much the better!" + +Jean Paul drew a little buckskin bag from an inner pocket, and filled +the pipe with herb leaves that crackled as he pressed them into the +bowl. Handing it back, he struck a match. Garrod puffed with an air +of bravado, and a subtle, pungent odour spread around. + +"It has a rotten taste," said Garrod. + +"You do not smoke that for taste," said Jean Paul. + +For several minutes nothing was said. Garrod nursed the pipe, taking +the smoke with deeper, slower inhalations. + +"That's good," he murmured at length. There was unspeakable relief, +relaxation, ease, in his voice. + +Jean Paul watched him narrowly. Garrod's figure slowly drooped, and +the hand that carried the pipe to his mouth became uncertain. + +"You got enough," said Jean Paul suddenly. "Come along. You can't +sleep here." + +Garrod protested sleepily, but the half-breed jerked him to his feet, +and supporting him under one arm, directed his wavering, spastic +footsteps back to the tents. Garrod shared a small tent with Vassall +and Baldwin Ferrie. One end opened to the general tent, the other was +accessible from outdoors. Jean Paul looked in; it was empty, and the +flap on the inner side was down. In the big tent they were playing +cards. + +Garrod collapsed in a heap. Jean Paul deftly undressed him, and, +rolling him in his blanket, left him dead to the world. Before leaving +the tent he carefully knocked the ashes out of the pipe, and dropped it +in the pocket of Garrod's coat. Immediately afterward Jean Paul in his +neat black habit showed himself in the light of the fire. Sitting, he +was seen to gravely adjust a pair of rimmed spectacles (his eyes were +like a lynx's!) and apply himself to his daily chapter of the Testament +before turning in. + +In the morning Garrod awoke with a splitting head and a bad taste in +his mouth. However, that seemed a small price to pay for nine hours of +blessed forgetfulness. + +There followed another day of prairie travel. Sir Bryson, when he +wished to communicate with Jack, made Garrod his emissary, so that the +two were obliged to meet and talk. On the approach of Garrod, Jack +merely sucked in his lip, and stuck closely to the business of the day. +These meetings were dreadful to Garrod. Only an indication of what he +went through can be given. In the condition he was in he had to avoid +the sharp-eyed Linda, and he was obliged to stand aside and see her +ride off with Jack out of sight of the rest of the train. By nightfall +his nerves were in strings again. + +On this night after supper Jean Paul took pains to avoid him. Garrod +was finally obliged to go to the Indians' fire after him. + +"Look here, Jean Paul, I want to speak to you," he said sullenly. + +Jean Paul, closing the book and taking off the spectacles with great +deliberation, followed Garrod out of earshot of the others. + +"I say give me another pipeful of that dope, Jean Paul," Garrod said in +a conciliatory tone. + +The half-breed had dropped his smooth air. "Ha! You come after it +to-night," he sneered. + +"Hang it! I'll pay you for it," snarled Garrod. + +"My medicine not for sale," replied Jean Paul. + +"Medicine?" sneered Garrod. "I'll give you five dollars for the little +bagful." + +Jean Paul shook his head. + +"Ten! Twenty, then!" + +Jean Paul merely smiled. + +A white man could not possibly humble himself any further to a redskin. +Garrod, with a miserable attempt at bravado, shrugged and turned away. +Jean Paul stood looking after him, smiling. Garrod had not taken five +paces before a fresh realization of the horrors of the night to come +turned his pride to water. He came swiftly back. + +"You said you were a doctor," he said in a breaking voice. "Good God! +can't you see what it means to me! I've got to have it! I've got to +have it! I can't live through another night without sleep!" + +"Las' night you tol' me to kip away from you," drawled Jean Paul. + +"Forget it, Jean Paul," begged Garrod. "I'll give you all the money I +have for it. A pipeful for God's sake!" + +Jean Paul continued to smile, and, turning, went back to the fire, and +took out his Testament. + +Garrod _did_ live through the night, and the day that followed, but at +the approach of another night, white man as he was, he delivered +himself over to Jean Paul Ascota, the half-breed, body and soul. + + + + +VII + +AN EMOTIONAL CRISIS + +Toward the end of the fourth day the pack-train wound down a hill to +Fort Geikie, and they saw the great river again, that they had been +following all the way, but at some distance from the bank. Fort Geikie +was no more than a couple of log shacks maintained during the winters +as an outpost for trading with the Indians. At present the shacks were +boarded up, and the Indians ranging away to the north and the west. + +The prairie came to an abrupt end here, and immediately before them +rose the steep foothills, with the mountains proper looking over their +heads behind. Around a point off to the left the river issued foaming +from between grim, hewn walls of rock. Up and down river it was called +significantly, "Hell's Back door." "Hell's Opening," it followed, was +at the other end of the canyon. For upward of twenty miles between the +river roared down in unchecked fury, grinding the drift-logs to shreds. + +The log shacks stood in the middle of another grassy esplanade, but +here elevated high above the river. The party camped on the edge of +the steep bank, with a lovely prospect visible from the tent openings. +The river was swifter and much narrower here; far below them lay a thin +island, and beyond, the river stretched away like a broad silver ribbon +among its hills, the whole mellowed and glowing in the late sunshine. + +As soon as the horses were turned out Jack made his way to Sir Bryson. + +The governor led him into the tent. "Well?" he said, seating himself, +and carefully matching his finger-tips. + +"My instructions were to take you to the big canyon," said Jack. "Here +we are at the lower end of it. Do you want to make a permanent camp +here, or to push farther on?" + +"Let me see," said Sir Bryson. Producing a paper from his pocket, he +spread it on the table. Jack saw that it was a handmade map. "The +lower end of the canyon," he repeated to himself. "That will be here," +and he put his finger on a spot. + +Jack's natural impulse was to walk around the table, and look at the +map over Sir Bryson's shoulder. As he did so, Sir Bryson snatched it +up, and held it against his breast like a child whose toy is threatened +by another child. + +Jack, with a reddening face, retired around the table again. "I beg +your pardon," he said stiffly. "I didn't know it was private." + +Sir Bryson reddened too, and murmured something indistinguishable. + +Suddenly it came to Jack that he had seen the map before, and a smile +twitched the corners of his lips. Since Sir Bryson wished to make a +great secret of it, all right--he, Jack, was not obliged to tell all he +knew. + +Sir Bryson did not see the smile. He was studying the map again. "How +far is it to the top of the canyon?" he asked. + +"Twelve miles," said Jack. "The trail, as you see, cuts across a bend." + +"Is there a good place to camp?" + +"Better than here. First-rate water, grass, and wood." + +"Can we cross the river if we wish to?" + +"There are any number of boats cached along the shore. Everybody bound +downstream has to leave his boat there." + +"Very well," said Sir Bryson. "Let's move on to-morrow." + +When Jack joined Humpy Jull he said briefly: "I was right. The old boy +is travelling by Beckford and Rowe's map." + +"Did you tell him what they were?" asked Humpy, all agog. + +"No," said Jack coolly. "He wouldn't have thanked me. He'll find it +out himself in a couple of days." + +"The nerve of it," said Humpy, tremendously impressed, "to play the +governor himself for a sucker! There'll be the deuce to pay when it +all comes out!" + +It was impossible for Jack's spirits to remain permanently depressed. +To-night, after a long silence, the banjo and the insinuating baritone +were heard for a while by the fire. At the sound, Linda, in the big +tent, changed colour. The ladies still dressed for dinner as far as +they could, and Linda, with her elaborate hair arrangement, the pearls +in her ears, and the rings on her fingers, made an odd urban figure to +be here on the lonely plains. + +Her attention wandered, and finally she committed the capital crime of +bridge. + +"You've revoked!" cried Sir Bryson aghast, "when the game and the +rubber were ours!" + +She was not much cast down by her parent's reproaches. "Kate, take my +hand," she said cajolingly. "I've no head for the game to-night." + +They changed places, and Linda carried her chair outside the door of +the tent. The cook-fire was only some twenty paces distant, and she +saw Jack in his favourite attitude, the small of his back supported +against a log, and the banjo across his thighs. The admiring Humpy +Jull sat on the other and of the log, whittling a stick. + +Jack saw her come out, and he felt the call that she sent him. He drew +in his upper lip a little, and stayed where he was. He would have been +glad enough to go of his own volition, but the hint of coercion made +him stubborn. Linda was finally obliged to retire beaten. + +Next morning the pack-train climbed the steep hill that barred the way, +traversed the ancient portage around the canyon, and finally camped +beside the river again in a little clearing that has been a +camping-place since before the white men found America. Looking across +to the left, a smooth wall of rock seemed to bar the river's progress; +an ominous hoarse roar issued from its foot. All around them rose +moderate mountain heights green to their summits; farther upstream were +the first-class peaks. + +After lunch a riding-party to High Rock, down the canyon, was talked +about. Long afterward Jack remembered that it had first been suggested +by Jean Paul, who volunteered to put the camp in order while they were +away. All the whites set out except Humpy Jull. Garrod accompanied +the others. + +A change had come over Garrod, a comfortable daze taking the place of +the wild, harassed look in his eyes. He rode apparently without seeing +or caring where. He and Jean Paul had ridden together all morning, and +it was observable that the white's man eyes followed all the movements +of the Indian in a mechanical way. The two were rapidly becoming +inseparable. No thought of danger to himself from this connection +occurred to Jack. By this time he had forgotten the scene at Fort +Cheever. + +They first visited "Hell's Opening" on foot, having to climb over a +tangle of great trunks cast high on the rocks by the freshets. One of +the great sights of earth rewarded them. The mighty river, a thousand +feet wide above, plunged through a cleft in the rock that a child could +have tossed a stone across, and, pent within its close, dark walls, +swept down with a deep, throaty roar. + +The beholders remarked upon it according to their several natures. + +"Very pretty," said Sir Bryson. "Let's get on." + +"By Jove!" said Sidney Vassall. + +"Tertiary rocks of the Cambrian period," said Baldwin Ferrie, or +whatever they were. + +Garrod looked with lack-lustre eyes, and said nothing. + +Linda looked at Jack. Seeing that he was genuinely moved by the sight, +familiar as it was to him, she began to enthuse. It sounded overdone +to Jack, and he turned on his heel. + +Mrs. Worsley looked at it with shining eyes, and said nothing. + +As they rode on it commenced to rain softly, and Sir Bryson was for +returning. His daughter opposed him, and all the others rallied to her +support. Garrod in particular, though he seemed to have no interest by +the way, was dead set against giving up the expedition. They rode +through a magnificent, untouched forest. The cool gloom, the slow drip +of the leaves, and the delicious fragrance of the wet greenery created +an effect the impressionable ones in the party were not soon to forget. +Sir Bryson grumbled. + +In one of the various rearrangements of the party Jack found that Mrs. +Worsley was riding next behind him. Swinging around, he talked to her, +hanging sideways over his saddle. + +"No one has passed this way this year," he said, glancing at the trail. + +"I don't see how you know the path at all," she returned. "I can see +nothing." + +Jack explained the blazes on the trees. "Beyond the next creek I +blazed a trail myself last year," he said. "The old trail was too +steep for white men's horses." + +"You know the country well." + +"I feel as if this bit was my own," he said, with a look around. + +Crossing a little stream he pointed out the remains of a sluice and +cradle, and explained their uses to her. "Joe Casey had his camp on +that little hill two years ago," he said. + +"What luck did he have?" she asked. + +Jack shook his head. "But we all know the stuff's somewhere about," he +said. + +Kate Worsley was able in turn to tell Jack something about the showy +plants they passed, and a bird or two. Jack's knowledge of the flora +and fauna was limited strictly to what would serve a man for fuel or +food. + +"I believe this life would suit you, too," he said, approving her +strongly. + +"I believe it would," she said with a smile, "if there was any place +for such as I." + +"You would soon make a place," he said. + +Linda, following Mrs. Worsley in the trail, wondered jealously why Jack +never unbent with her like that. + +Though they were never out of hearing of its thunderous voice, they had +no sight of the canyon again until they suddenly issued out on the High +Rock, five miles from camp. A superb view arrested them. The trail +came out on a flat, overhanging table rock two hundred feet above the +water. The spot was in the middle of a wide bend in the walls of the +canyon, and they could therefore see both up and down, over the ragged +white torrent in the bottom. + +This was their destination. To dismount they had to cross the rock to +a stretch of grass beyond. They instinctively lingered first for a +look. Jack, Mrs. Worsley, Linda, Vassall, Sir Bryson, and Baldwin +Ferrie lined up in that order, taking care to hold their horses in a +safe eight or ten feet back from the naked edge. Looking down river +afforded the finest prospect; here the steep, brown walls fell back a +little, and in the middle of the torrent rose a tall rock island, like +a tower, crowned with noble spruce trees. + +Garrod, who had dropped behind the others, now came out from among the +trees on to the flat rock. His horse appeared to be fretting. + +"Better dismount and lead him across," Jack flung over his shoulder. + +If Jack had looked squarely at Garrod the look in the man's eyes would +surely have caused him to draw back himself and dismount. But he was +intent at the moment in pointing out a seam of coal in the face of the +rock opposite. + +None of them could ever tell exactly what happened after that. Garrod +did not dismount, but attempted to ride across behind the others +through the narrow space between their horses and the thickly growing +trees. Jack was sitting loose in his saddle with an arm extended. +Suddenly his horse shrank and quivered beneath him. With a snort of +pain and terror the animal sprang forward, reared on the edge of the +rock, attempted desperately to turn on his hind legs--and, with his +rider, disappeared. + +They heard breaking branches below, and a moment later a dull crash on +the rocks far beneath. No sound escaped from any member of the party. +The awful silhouette of the rearing horse on the edge of nothing had +frozen them into grotesque attitudes of horror, and they looked at the +empty place as if they saw it still. Finally Vassall swore in a +strange, soft voice, and Sir Bryson began to babble. Their horses, +infected by the terror of their riders, suddenly turned of one accord, +and shouldered each other off the rock to the grassy terrace at one +side. Garrod slipped out of his saddle and lay inert. The horses that +followed jumped over his body. + +One by one the others half-rolled, half-slipped out of their saddles. +Linda Trangmar was the first to reach the ground, and it was she who +crawled back over the rock like a lithe little animal, and looked over +the hideous edge. She saw that several spruce trees grew out obliquely +from a ledge beneath the rock, and that horse and rider had fallen +through the tops of these. Far below she saw the lump of dead +horseflesh on the rocks. It had struck, and rolled down a steep +incline to the water's edge. + +The three men watched her, trembling and helpless. Sir Bryson's legs +failed him, and he sat abruptly in the grass. Kate Worsley crawled +toward Linda on her hands and knees, and attempted to draw her back. + +"Come away, come away," she whispered. "It's too horrible!" + +"Let me be!" said Linda sharply. "I haven't found him yet!" + +Suddenly a piercing scream broke from Linda. Kate, by main force, +snatched her back from the edge of the rock. + +"He's safe!" cried Linda. She clung to Kate, weeping and laughing +together. + +They thought it was merely hysteria. Vassall, extending his body on +the rock, looked over. He got up again, and shook his head. + +High Rock was the highest point of the cliff on the side where they +stood. The stretch of grass where the horses were now quietly feeding +inclined gently down from the flat table. + +"There he is!" screamed Linda, pointing. + +Following the direction of her finger, they saw Jack's head and +shoulders rise above the edge of the grass. Pulling himself up, he +came toward them. He sat in the grass and wiped his face. He was +terribly shaken, but he would never confess it. His pallor he could +not control. All this had occurred in less than a minute. + +The men gathered around him, their questions tumbling out on each other. + +"I am not hurt," said Jack, steadying his speech word by word. "I +slipped out of the saddle as we went over, and I caught a spruce tree. +I had only to climb down the trunk and walk along the ledge to the +grass." + +Their questions disconcerted him. He got up, and coolly throwing +himself down at the edge of the rock, looked over. + +"Come back! Come back!" moaned Linda. + +"Poor brute!" Jack said, turning away. + +As he came back, Linda, straining away from Kate's encircling arms, +bent imploring eyes on him. Jack looked at her and stopped. Instead +of the worldly little coquette he had thought her up to now, he saw a +woman offering him her soul through her eyes. The sight disturbed and +thrilled him. It came at a moment of high emotional tension. He gave +her his eyes back again, and for moments their glances embraced, +careless of the others around. Had it not been for Kate's tight clasp, +Linda would have cast herself into his arms on the spot. + +"What could have startled your horse?" Sir Bryson asked for the dozenth +time, breaking the spell. + +Jack shrugged. "Where's Garrod?" he said suddenly. + +Garrod had completely passed out of their minds. They found him lying +in the grass a little to one side. He had fainted. It provided a +distraction to their shaken nerves, and gradually a measure of calmness +returned to them all. Kate Worsley and Vassall worked over Garrod. +Jack, who felt a strong repugnance to touching him, rode back for water +to the last stream they had crossed. + +When Garrod returned to consciousness the shock to his confused +faculties of seeing Jack standing in front of him, and his mingled +remorse and relief, were all very painful to see. He babbled +explanations, apologies, self-accusations; none of them could make out +what it all amounted to. + +"Don't," said Jack turning away. "I don't blame you. I should have +made everybody dismount at once. It was my own fault." + +At the time he honestly believed it. + +It was a very much sobered procession that wound back to camp. As they +climbed the side of one of the steep gullies, leading their horses, +Jack and Linda found themselves together. + +"I tell you, it gives you a queer start to fall through space," said +Jack with a grim smile. "I never lived so fast in my life. Down below +I saw every separate stone that was waiting to smash me. And in that +one second before I grabbed the tree I remembered everything that had +happened to me since I was a baby." + +"Don't talk about it," she murmured, turning away her head. At the +same time a little spring of gladness welled in her breast, for it was +the first time that he had ever dropped his guard with her. + +"Do you care?" he said, off-hand. "I thought you were the kind that +didn't." + +She flashed a look at him. "Would you have me the same to everybody?" +she said. + +He lifted her on her horse in the way that had suggested itself to him +as most natural. It was not according to the fashionable conventions +of riding, but Linda liked it. Her hand fell on his round, hard +shoulder under the flannel shirt, and she bore upon it heavier than she +need. They rode on with beating hearts, avoiding each other's eyes. + +It signified only that their combined ages made something less than +fifty, and that each was highly pleasing in the eyes of the other sex. +His scornful air had piqued her from the first, and he had seen her +hard eyes soften for him at a high-pitched moment. Young people would +be saved a deal of trouble if the romantic idea were not so assiduously +inculcated that these feelings are irrevocable. + +In camp after supper they found each other again. + +"Too bad about the mosquitoes," said Jack a little sheepishly. + +"Why?" she asked, making the big eyes of innocence. + +"There's no place we can go." + +"Let's sit under your mosquito bar." + +Jack gasped a little, and looked at her with sidelong eyes. True, his +tent had no front to it and the firelight illumined every corner, still +it was a man's abode. Linda herself conceived a lively picture of the +consternation of Sir Bryson and his suite if they knew, but they were +good for an hour or more at the card-table, and, anyway, this was the +kind of young lady that opposition, even in prospect, drives headlong. + +"Humpy Jull will chaperon us," she said demurely. "You can sing to me." + +"All right," he said. + +Linda sat in the middle of the tent, with a man on either hand, and the +fire glowing before them. Jack reclined on the end of his spine as +usual, with the banjo in his lap. The spirit of at least one of his +hearers was lifted up on the simple airs he sung. An instinct prompted +him to avoid the obviously sentimental. + + "Exact to appointment I went to the grove + To meet my fair Phillis and tell tales of love; + But judge of my anguish, my rage and despair, + When I found on arrival no Phillis was there." + + +Between songs Linda, in the immemorial way of women, made conversation +with the man of the two present in which she was not interested. + +"Don't you like to look for pictures in the fire, Mr. Jull?" + +"Sure, I like to look at pitchers," returned Humpy innocently. "But +there ain't never no pitchers in camp. I like the move-'em pitchers +best. When I was out to the Landing last year I used to go ev'y night." + +Jack was partly hidden from Humpy by Linda. Tempted by the hand that +lay on the ground beside him, he caught it up and pressed it to his +lips. When he sang again, the same hand, while its owner looked +innocently ahead of her, groped for and found his curly head. At the +touch of it Jack's voice trembled richly in his throat. + +[Illustration: "Tempted by the hand that lay on the ground beside him, +he caught it up and pressed it to his lips"] + +When she thought the rubber of rubbers would be nearing its end Linda +made Jack take her back. Walking across the narrow space their +shoulders pressed warmly together. They walked very slowly. + +"I ought to have told you my name," murmured Jack uncomfortably. + +"I know it, Malcolm, dear," she breathed. + +"Who told you?" he demanded, greatly astonished. + +She twined her fingers inside his. "I guessed, silly." + +"Well, I didn't take the money," he said. + +"I don't care if you did," she murmured. + +"But I didn't," he said frowning. + +"All right," she said, unconvinced and uncaring. + +"What are we going to do?" he said. + +"Oh, don't begin that," she said swiftly. "This is to-night, and we're +together. Isn't that enough?" + +They had reached the tents. Of one accord they turned aside, and in +the shadow of the canvas she came naturally into his arms, and he +kissed her, thrilling deliciously. The delicate fragrance of her +enraptured his senses. It was light love, lightly sealed. + +"Kiss me again," she murmured on her deepest note. "Kiss me often, and +don't bother about the future!" + + + + +VIII + +THE FEMININE EQUATION + +Jack turned in filled with a nagging sense of discomfort. He felt +dimly that he ought to have been happy, but it was very clear that he +was not. It was all very well for her to say: "Don't bother about the +future," but his stubborn mind was not to be so easily satisfied. It +was true he had not committed himself in so many words, but with girls +of Linda's kind he supposed a kiss was final. So the future had to be +considered. It was now more than ever imperative that his name be +cleared. She didn't seem to care much whether he were honest or not. +There was the rub. He scowled, and rolled over to woo sleep on the +other side. + +In the end he fell asleep, and dreamed a fantastic dream. He was King +David, wearing a long gray beard and a white gown. He was at sea in a +motor-sailboat of extraordinary construction, having a high, ornate +cabin, over which the boom had to be lifted whenever they came about. +There was a beturbaned lascar at the tiller, whom he, King David, +treated with great contumely. Linda was along, too, also clad in +biblical costume with a silver band around her brow. She was strangely +meek, and she plucked continually at his sleeve. + +A great storm came up; the waves tossed, the boat was knocked about, +and he couldn't get a spark in his engine. He suspected that the +lascar knew much better than he what to do, but out of sheer, kingly +wilfulness he went contrary to everything the brown man suggested. Nor +would he heed the insistent plucking at his sleeve. + +Then suddenly a mermaid uprose beside the boat, and the sea was +miraculously stilled. Her long, black, silky hair hung before her +face, and streamed over her deep bosom and her lovely arms. All would +be well if he could but distinguish her face, he felt. He leaned +farther and farther over the rail, while the fretful plucking at his +sleeve continued. He implored the mermaid to push back her hair. + +Then he awoke. Some one was pulling at his sleeve, and a voice was +whispering: "Jack, wake up!" + +He sprang to a sitting position, throwing out his arms. They closed +around a bony little frame encased in a rough coat. He recoiled. + +"It's only me," said the small voice. + +The fire had burned down to dull embers, and Jack at first could see +nothing. "Who are you?" he demanded. + +"Davy Cranston." + +"Davy Cranston?" repeated Jack. It was a moment or two before his +dream-muddled brain conceived the identity that went under this name. +"What does this mean? What do you want? How did you get here?" he +demanded in great surprise. + +"It was Mary said we had to come," the boy replied abashed. + +The girl's name had the effect of ringing a bell in Jack's +understanding. "Mary? Where is she?" he asked quickly. + +"We're camped up on the bench," the boy replied. "She's waiting for +us. Come to our camp, and we can talk." + +Jack was ready in a moment, and they set off. The afterglow was under +the north star, and by that Jack knew it was midnight. The camp was +wrapped in perfect stillness. When they got clear, and began to climb +the trail, a little fiery eye beckoned them ahead. + +In answer to Jack's further questions the boy could only reply that +"Mary had a warning," which only heightened the questioner's wonder and +curiosity. + +The camp was pitched on the edge of the low bench above the river-flat, +and they saw her, from a little distance, crouching by the fire that +made a little crimson glory under the branches. She was listening with +bent head to hear if there was one pair of footsteps approaching or +two. Behind her the two little A-tents were pitched side by side, +their open doors like mouths yawning in the firelight. + +As they came within radius of the light she lifted her face, and Jack +without knowing why he should be, was staggered by the look in her deep +eyes, an indescribable look, suggesting pain proudly borne, and present +gladness. + +"You're all right?" she murmured, searching for what she might read in +his face. + +"Surely!" said Jack wonderingly. Further speech failed him. The sight +of her threw him into a great uneasiness that he was at a loss to +account for. She was nothing to him, he told himself a little angrily. +But he could not keep his eyes off her. She had changed. She looked +as if her spirit had travelled a long way these few days and learned +many difficult lessons on the road. She had an effect on him as of +something he had never seen before, yet something he had been waiting +for without knowing it. And this was only Mary Cranston that he +thought he knew! + +"There was a danger," she said quietly. "I did not know if we would be +in time to save--to help you." + +"Danger? Save me?" Jack repeated, looking at her stupidly. "Good God! +How did you know that?" he presently added. + +Mary's agitation broke through her self-contained air. To hide it she +hastily busied herself picking up the dishes, and packing them in the +grub-box. Fastening the box with its leather hasp, she carried it into +her tent. She did not immediately reappear. + +"Where have you come from?" Jack demanded of Davy. + +"Swan Lake." + +"Have you been there ever since you left the fort?" + +The boy nodded. "Tom Moosehorn's three children got the measles," he +explained. "They are pitching at Swan Lake. Tom came to the fort to +ask my father for medicine, and when Mary heard that his children were +sick, she said she would go and nurse them, because Tom's wife is a +foolish squaw, and don't know what to do for sickness. And I went to +take care of Mary." + +"Where is Swan Lake?" asked Jack. + +"Northwest of the fort, two days' journey," said Davy. "We were there +a week, and then the kids got well. On the way back home Mary had a +warning, She said she felt a danger threatening you." Shyness overcame +the boy here. "You--you were friendly to us," he stammered. "So we +wanted to come to you. We didn't know where you were, but Mary said +the warning came from the south, so we left the trail, and hit straight +across the prairie till we came to the river trail. There we found +your tracks, and followed them here." + +"A warning!" said Jack, amazed. "What do you mean?" + +"I don't know," the boy said simply. "Mary has them." + +Mary returned to the fire with a composed face. All three of the +youngsters were embarrassed for speech. How could they find words to +fit the strange feelings that agitated them. + +Jack, gazing at Mary's graceful pose, on her knees by the fire, +suddenly exclaimed: "Why, it was you, all the time!" + +"What was?" asked Mary. + +"The mermaid." + +"What's a mermaid?" Davy wanted to know. + +Mary answered before Jack could. "An imaginary creature, half woman, +half fish." + +"Why, how did you know?" asked Jack unthinkingly. + +"Do you think I know nothing?" she said, with the ghost of a smile. + +He had the grace to redden. + +They made Jack tell them his dream. They laughed, and the tension was +relieved. They were all grateful for something else to talk about. +There was one thing in the dream that Jack left out. + +"Who was the woman who kept pulling at your sleeve?" asked Mary. + +Jack lied. "Nobody I know," he said lightly. "One of King David's +five hundred wives, I suppose." + +Davy laughed, but Mary looked affronted. "You're confusing David with +Solomon," she said coldly. + +Jack looked at her uneasily. This was she whom he had dismissed merely +as one of the girls of the country! + +"And he sat up and hugged me as if I was a girl," Davy put in with +relish. + +Jack and Mary looked away from each other and blushed, but for +different reasons. + +They could not long keep away from the subject that filled their minds. +"Blest if I can understand it," murmured Jack. + +They knew to what he referred. "Nobody can," said Mary. + +"You must have had this warning several days ago." + +"Three days," said Mary. + +"Nothing happened to me three days ago. Nothing until to-day----" + +"Ah!" she said sharply. + +"That was an accident," said Jack. "My horse shied on High Rock, and +jumped over the ledge. I caught on a tree." + +Mary's eyes brooded over him, and her hands went to still her breast. +"Was there any one behind you?" she asked quickly. + +"Yes, Garrod." + +"Perhaps it was no accident." + +Jack stared at the fire. "Perhaps not," he said slowly. After a while +he added. "Still I don't understand." + +"Many of the people have such warnings," Mary said quietly. + +Jack frowned. "You are not a savage," he said. + +"We are one fourth Indian," Mary said with a kind of relentless pride. +"It is silly to make-believe that we're not." + +Jack went on to tell them in detail what had happened during the day, +suppressing, however, all that related to Linda. One thing led to +another; he could hardly have explained how it came about, but Mary's +eyes drew out what he had believed was locked deep in his heart, the +story of his early days, and of Garrod's treachery that he had just +found out. Sister and brother had little to say to the story, but +their shining eyes conveyed unquestioning loyal assurance to him. It +needed no words to tell him they knew he was no thief. Jack +experienced a sense of relief such as he had not felt since the moment +of his making the ugly discovery. When he considered the net of +circumstance that bound him round sometimes he was almost ready himself +to doubt his honesty. + +"I knew there was something behind," Mary murmured. "It was the day +you found him out that I had my warning. I'm glad we came. Maybe we +can help you"--she looked at him questioningly--"if you will let us +stay." + +"As long as you like," said Jack. "It's my idea we'll all be turning +back in a couple of days. In the meantime Davy can help with the +horses. We're short-handed." + +"Couldn't we camp here by ourselves?" asked Mary quickly. + +Jack shook his head. "It would look queer," he said. "You had better +ride into our camp in the morning as if you'd just come." + +Mary presently sent him home. The fire had paled, and the trees began +to rise out of the graves of darkness at the touch of the ghostly wand +of dawn. The youngsters' pale and slightly haggard faces had a strange +look to each other like things that had been left over from yesterday +by mistake, and were hopelessly out of place this morning. + +Jack lingered awkwardly. "Look here," he blurted out, "I haven't +thanked you for coming. I don't know how. But you know what I feel!" + +Sister and brother looked exquisitely uncomfortable, and absurdly +alike. "There's nothing to be thanked for," murmured Mary. "Of course +we came! That's what I had the warning for." + +They shook hands. Mary's hand lay for an instant in Jack's passive and +cold. But later she pillowed her cheek on that hand because he had +touched it. + + +The permanent camp, that Sir Bryson had graciously permitted to be +called Camp Trangmar, had been laid out with considerably more care +than their nightly stopping-places. The main tent, with its three +little wings, was erected at the top of the clearing, facing the river. +A canvas had been stretched in front to make a veranda. On the +right-hand side of the open square was Humpy's cooking outfit under +another awning, with Humpy's tent and Jack's lean-to beyond. Across +the square was Jean Paul's little tent and the ragged brown canvas that +sheltered the Indians. The camp was ditched and drained according to +the best usage, and around the whole was stretched a rope on poplar +posts, to keep the straying horses from nosing around the tents in +their perpetual search for salt. + +After breakfast next morning Sir Bryson issued a command for Jack to +wait upon him. As Jack approached, Linda and Mrs. Worsley were sitting +under the awning, each busy with a bit of embroidery. Jack, who had +been for a swim in the river, looked as fresh as a daisy. As he passed +inside Linda smiled at him with a frankness that disconcerted him +greatly. If she was going to give the whole thing away to everybody +like this! However, Mrs. Worsley gave no sign of having seen anything +out of the ordinary. + +It transpired that Sir Bryson wished to make a little exploration up +the river. He inquired about a boat, and Jack offered him his own +dugout that he had cached at this point on his way down the river. Sir +Bryson was very much concerned about the speed of the current, but Jack +assured him the Indians were accustomed to making way against it. + +Sir Bryson cast a good deal of mystery about his little trip, and made +it clear that he had no intention of taking Jack with him. Jack, who +had a shrewd idea of his object, had no desire to be mixed up in it. +He swallowed a grin and maintained a respectful air. He had discovered +that there was more fun to be had in playing up to the little +governor's grand airs than in flouting him. Afterward he would enact +the scene by the fire, sure of an appreciative audience in Humpy Jull. + +It was arranged that Sir Bryson should start in an hour, and that his +party should take a lunch against an all-day trip. + +As Jack came out Linda rose to meet him. "We will have the whole day +to ourselves," she said softly. + +Jack was nonplussed. Somehow, such a frank avowal dampened his own +ardour. He glanced at Mrs. Worsley to see if she had heard, and his +face stiffened. At this moment a diversion was created by the sound of +horses' hoofs on the trail. + +They looked around the tent to see Mary and Davy trotting down the +little rise that ended at the camp, followed by two pack-ponies. Linda +had not seen Mary before. Her eyes widened at the sight of another +girl, and a very pretty one, riding into camp, and quickly sought +Jack's face. A subtle and unbeautiful change passed over her at what +she fancied she read there. + +Sir Bryson, attracted by the sound, came out of the tent. "Who are +they?" he asked Jack. + +"The son and the daughter of the trader at Fort Cheever." + +"Very pretty girl," said Sir Bryson condescendingly. "Pray bring them +to me that I may make them welcome," he said as he went back. + +Jack vaulted over the fence, and the three youngsters shook hands again +with beaming smiles. Jack forgot that in order to keep up their little +fiction he should have appeared more surprised to see them. Linda +looked on with darkening eyes. Jack led the horses around the square +to the place next his own tent, where they were unpacked, unsaddled, +and turned out. He then brought Mary and Davy back. Linda was not in +evidence. + +Within the tent Sir Bryson welcomed them as graciously as a king. +"Very glad to see you," he said. "Which way are you travelling?" + +Davy's adolescence was painfully embarrassed in the presence of the +great man, but as the man of his party he blushed and faced him out. +"We are going home," he said. "My sister has been nursing some sick +Indians at Swan Lake." + +Sir Bryson did not know of course that Camp Trangmar was not on the +direct road between Swan Lake and Fort Cheever. "Ah!" he said, "most +worthy of her, I'm sure. I trust you will remain with us a few days +before you go on." + +"If I can help around," said Davy. "Jack Chanty said you were +short-handed." + +"Excellent! Excellent!" said Sir Bryson. + +Jack made a move toward the door, and Davy and Mary promptly followed. +Sir Bryson fussed among his papers with an annoyed expression. As much +as anything pertaining to his official position he enjoyed dismissing +people. Consequently when they left before they were sent he felt a +little aggrieved. + +Outside, Sidney Vassall and Baldwin Ferrie were now with the two +ladies. Linda was reclining languorously in the folding chair, with +her little feet crossed in front of her. She was pale and full of fine +lady airs. Any one but Jack would have known that there was trouble +brewing. + +"Introduce your friends," she said to Jack in a clear, high voice. + +Jack was only conscious of an extreme discomfort. He was oppressed by +a sense of guilt that he resented. The air seemed full of electricity +ready to discharge on some one's head. He looked very stiff and boyish +as he spoke the names all round: "Miss Cranston, Davy Cranston; Miss +Trangmar, Mrs. Worsley, Captain Vassall, Mr. Ferrie!" + +They all smiled on the embarrassed newcomers, and made them welcome. +In particular Linda's smile was overpoweringly sweet. Without changing +her position she extended a languid little hand to Mary. + +"So nice of you to come and see us," she drawled. "I hope you will +remain with us until we go back." + +To Jack this sounded all right. He felt relieved. Even yet he did not +see what was coming. Mary's perceptions were keener. With a slightly +heightened colour she stepped forward, took the hand with dignity, and +let it fall. + +"Thank you," she said quietly. "Not more than a day or two." + +"But we need you," Linda insisted, "both of you. Your brother can help +the men who are nearly worked to death, and if you would only help Mrs. +Worsley and me with our things, you know, and other ways----" + +Mrs. Worsley looked quickly at Linda, astonished and indignant, but +Linda affected not to see. As Jack realized the sense of what she was +saying, a slow, dark red crept under his skin, and his face became as +hard as stone. + +Mary took it smilingly. Her chin went up a little, and she drew a slow +breath before she answered. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, "but I have +no experience with ladies' things." + +There was a faint ring of irony in the last two words, and excepting +Jack, who was too angry to see anything, it was evident to the others +that Mary had returned just a little better than she got. Linda +evidently felt so, for naked malice peeped out of her next speech. + +"We would be so glad to teach you, wouldn't we, Kate? And it would be +so useful for you to know!" + +Mrs. Worsley bent over her work, blushing for her young friend. + +Mary continued to look at Linda steadily, and it was finally Linda's +eyes that were obliged to stray away. "Thank you," said Mary, "but we +will be expected at home in a few days." + +"Oh, sorry," said Linda casually. She nodded at Mary, and smiled the +inattentive smile that women mean to stab with. "Kate, do show me this +next stitch," she said, affecting a sudden absorption in her work. + +Mrs. Worsley ignored the question. Her face was now almost as red as +Jack's. What passed between these two ladies when they presently found +themselves alone may be guessed. + +Jack, Mary, and Davy crossed the little square. There was a commotion +going on inside Jack that he could not in the least analyze. He was +furiously angry, but his sidelong glances at Mary dashed his anger, and +made him fall to wondering if he had rightly understood what had +happened. For Mary, instead of being humiliated and indignant as one +might suppose, was actually smiling. She carried her head high, and +the shine of triumph was in her eye. What was a man to make of this? +Jack could only long in vain for a head to knock about. + +The explanation was simple. "How silly I was to be so afraid of her," +Mary was thinking. "To give herself away like that! She's a poor +thing! I'm a better woman than she, and she knows it now. She can be +jealous of me after this." Behind these thoughts another peeped like +an elf through a leafy screen, but since the maiden herself refused to +see it in its hiding-place it is not fair to discover it to the world. + +Mary refused to refer in any way to what had happened, and Jack was +therefore tongue-tied. All he could do was to show his sympathy in the +ardour of his muscular efforts on her behalf. He put up their two +tents, and stowed their baggage; he cut a wholly unnecessary amount of +balsam for Mary's bed, and chopped and carried wood for their fire, +until she stopped him. All this was observable to Linda watching from +afar under her lashes, and in the meantime Kate was not sparing her. + +Jack forgot all about Sir Bryson's order until a peremptory message +recalled it. After he had embarked the governor, Baldwin Ferrie, and +three Indians in the dugout, he swung an axe over his shoulder, and set +off up the trail to chop down a tree or two, and "think things out," as +he would have said. The operations of the human consciousness that go +under the name of thinking differ widely in the individual. Meanwhile +it should be mentioned that Jean Paul and Garrod had started on +horseback with the object of finding a camp of Sapi Indians that was +said to be not far away. They were gone all day. Jack hardly thought +of them. + +In a grove of pines beside the trail Jack swung his axe, and the blows +rang. His design was to make a flagstaff for the centre of the camp. +There was an immense satisfaction in stretching his muscles and +planting the blade true. The blood coursed through his veins, and he +tingled to his finger-tips. He felt so much better that he thought he +had solved his problems. This was what Jack called "thinking things +out." + +He was engaged in chopping the limbs from a trunk with the stern air of +concentration that was characteristic of him, when something caused him +to look up, and he saw Linda standing near with an appealing aspect. +He frowned and went on chopping. Linda sat down on a stump and looked +away with an unsuccessful attempt at unconcern. How astonished Vassall +or Baldwin Ferrie would have been could they have seen their imperious +little mistress then. + +There was a long silence except for the light strokes of Jack's axe as +he worked his way up the stem. Jack enjoyed a great advantage because +he was busy. It was Linda who was finally obliged to speak. + +"Haven't you anything to say?" she murmured. + +"No," said Jack promptly. The light branches did not offer him a +sufficient outlet for his pent-up feelings, and he wantonly attacked +the bole of the biggest tree in sight. Linda watched the swing of his +lithe body with a sort of stricken look. There was another silence +between them. + +"Jack, I'm sorry," she said at last in a small voice. + +Jack was not so easily to be appeased. "You shouldn't come away from +camp alone with me like this," he said. "Followed me," was what he had +in mind, but he spared her pride that. + +"I don't care what anybody thinks," she said quickly. + +"I do," said Jack. + +"Afraid of being compromised?" she asked with a little sneer. + +"That's a silly thing to say," he answered coolly. "You know what I +mean. I don't intend to give your father and the other men a chance to +throw 'thief' in my teeth. When I've cleared myself I'll walk with you +openly." + +"I was sorry," she said like a child. "I couldn't rest until I had +told you." + +Jack was silent and uncomfortable. Whenever she sounded the pathetic +and childlike note, the male in him must needs feel the pull of +compassion and he resented it. + +"Don't you care for me any more?" she murmured. + +Jack frowned, and aimed a tremendous blow at the tree. + +Real terror crept into her voice. "Jack," she faltered. + +"I don't take anything back," he said stubbornly. "I'll tell you when +I feel like telling you, but I won't have it dragged out of me." + +He returned to his tree, and she prodded the pine needles with the toe +of her boot. After a while she returned to the charge. + +More like a child than ever, she said: "Jack, I acted like a little +beast. But I said I was sorry." + +"That's all very well," said Jack, "but you can't expect to make me so +mad I can't see straight, and then have it all right again just for the +asking." + +"You're ungenerous," she said, pouting. + +"I don't know what you mean," he said obstinately. "I have to be what +I am." + +There was another silence. They were just where they had started. +Indeed no progress was possible without an explosion and a general +flare-up. It was Jack who brought it on by saying: + +"It's not to me you should be saying you're sorry." + +Linda sprang up pale and trembling, and the flood gates of invective +were opened. It is no advantage to a jealous woman to be a governor's +daughter. Linda in a passion lacked dignity. Her small face worked +like a child's preparing to bawl, and her gestures were febrile. What +is said at such moments is seldom worth repeating. Jack did not hear +the words; it was her tone that stung him beyond endurance. But at +last a sentence reached his understanding. + +"How dare you bring her here, and install her under my eyes?" + +"Bring her here? What do you mean?" he demanded in a voice that forced +her to attend. + +"Oh, you know very well what I mean!" she cried. "You knew she was +coming this morning. I saw it in your face. You didn't even pretend +that you were surprised. And you took her part against me all the way +through." + +There was enough truth in this to make Jack furiously angry in turn. +His voice silenced hers. + +"I did take her part!" he cried. "And I'd do it again. What have you +got to complain of? Just like a girl to fly into a rage and blame +everybody all around, just to cover her own tracks! What did you mean +by offering to engage her as your maid? You don't want a maid. You +only did it to insult her! I was ashamed of you. Everybody was +ashamed of you. If you're suffering for it now, it's no more than you +ought." + +Under all this and more she sat with an odd, still look from which one +would almost have said she enjoyed having him abuse her. + +And so they both emptied themselves of angry speech, and the inevitable +moment of reaction followed. Both Linda and Jack began to feel that +they had said too much. + +"I'm sorry," she said humbly. "It's true, I was only jealous of her, +because you seemed so glad to see her." + +"If it's any good to you to hear it," said Jack sheepishly, "she's +nothing to me--that way." Even as he said it his heart accused him. + +"Besides," said Linda irrelevantly, "she's mad about you." + +"That's nonsense!" said Jack. Nevertheless he quickly turned to pick +up his axe in order to hide the telltale red that crept into his face. + +"It's all right now, isn't it?" said Linda coaxingly. "Come and kiss +me." + +He obediently went, and, stooping, kissed her upturned lips. But for +both of them the delicious sweetness had flown. Jack could not forget +how ugly her face had looked in a passion, and Linda remembered how he +had worked for Mary. + +"You didn't do it like that last night," she said, pouting. + +"I felt differently last night," said Jack doggedly. "How can I get up +any enthusiasm when you make me do it?" + +Her breast began to heave again. "You said you had forgiven me," she +said. + +"Oh, don't let's begin that again," said Jack with a dismayed look. "I +haven't anything to forgive you. If you want to make things really all +right, you can do it in a minute!" + +She sprang up again. "I won't! I won't!" she cried passionately. +"It's her coming that has made the difference since last night! How +dare you suggest that I apologize to her! I'd die rather! I hate you! +Don't ever speak to me again!" + +Of a sudden she was gone like a little tempest among the trees. Jack +sat down on the trunk he had cut, and rested his chin in his palms, +terribly troubled in his mind. This sort of thing was new to him, and +it seemed of much greater moment than it was. + +Pretty soon she came flying back again, and casting herself in his +arms, clung to him like a baby, weeping and whimpering. + +"Take care of me, Jack! I don't know what I'm doing or saying!" + +His arms closed about her, and he patted her shoulder with an absurd, +sheepish, paternal air of concern. What else could he do? "There, +it's all right!" he said clumsily. "Don't distress yourself. It'll be +all right!" + +"And you won't make me apologize to her?" she implored. + +"No," he said with a shrug. "I don't suppose it would do any good if +you did." + +Linda lay perfectly still. A sense of sweet satisfaction stole into +her breast. It had been a hard fight, but she _had_ made him do what +she wanted. + +"Hanged if I know what's going to become of us," thought Jack gloomily. + + + + +IX + +YELLOW METAL + +The fiction that coal was the objective of Sir Bryson Trangmar's +expedition was scarcely maintained; indeed, once they got away from +Fort Cheever the word was never heard again. On the other hand, a +little word that resembled it circulated continually with a thrilling +intonation. Stories of gold and gold-hunters were told over the fires +in English and Cree. Baldwin Ferrie, the geologist, kept the subject +agitated by cracking every likely looking stone he came to with his +little hammer, and by studying the composition of the mountain tops all +day with his powerful glasses. + +We are told that the essence of comedy lies in the exposure of +pretentiousness. That being so, the comic spirit is highly developed +up North. In town pretentiousness is largely a matter of give and +take; we are all pretending to something, and we are obliged to seem to +allow the pretences of our neighbours in order to get them to allow +ours. But up North they are beholden to no man, and, sardonic jesters +that they are, they lie in wait for pretentiousness. Woe to the man +who goes up North and "puts on side." + +One like Sir Bryson was therefore bound to be considered fair game. +His official position was no protection to him. There is a story +current about a governor-general, and another about an actual prince of +the blood, who did not escape. All of which is to say that Jack, +notwithstanding his perplexities in other directions, was looking +forward with keen relish to the return of Sir Bryson's +"exploring-party." He only regretted that there was none at hand but +Humpy Jull with whom to share the joke. + +They landed toward the end of the day, Sir Bryson and Baldwin Ferrie +looking very glum. Jack was sent for. He found Sir Bryson alone at +his table, looking more than usually important and puffy. + +"Do you know two men called Beckford and Rowe?" he asked. + +Jack adopted an innocent-respectful line. "Yes, sir," he said. "They +were working in the pass here at the same time I was." + +"Are you, or have you ever been, associated with them?" + +Jack shook his head. "I'm on my own," he said. "Always." + +"What kind of a reputation do these men bear?" asked Sir Bryson. + +"Bad," said Jack. + +Sir Bryson frowned, and squeezed his pointed beard. "How, bad?" he +wanted to know. + +"Confidence men. They were square enough up here. They had to be. +They saved their game to work outside." + +"How do you know all this?" demanded Sir Bryson. + +"It's no secret," said Jack. "Beckford bragged about what he'd do." + +"And did no one take any steps to stop them?" + +"It was none of our business," said Jack. "And if it had been we +couldn't very well follow them all over, and warn people off, could we?" + +Sir Bryson snorted. "Where have they staked out claims?" he demanded. + +"Oh, all over," said Jack. "Anything good they keep dark, of course." + +"Did you ever hear of Dexter's Creek?" + +Jack bit his lip. "Oh, yes," he said with an innocent stare. "Those +were what they called their sucker claims." + +Sir Bryson swelled like a turkey-cock, and turned an alarming colour, +but he said nothing. What could he say? + +Your Northern humourist is merciless. Jack was not nearly through with +him. He went on full of solicitude: "I hope you didn't fall for +anything on Dexter Creek, Sir Bryson. If you'd only mentioned it +before, I could have warned you, and saved all this trip!" + +"I have nothing to do with Dexter's Creek," said Sir Bryson quickly. +"I have other objects. I merely promised the attorney-general of the +province to do a little detective work for him." + +Jack could appreciate quick wits in a victim. "Well turned," he +thought, and waited for Sir Bryson's next lead. + +"Well, well," said the little man testily. "Explain what you mean +by--by this vulgar expression." + +"Sucker claims?" said Jack wickedly. It really pained him that there +was no one by to benefit by this. + +"You needn't repeat the word," snapped Sir Bryson. "It is offensive to +me." + +"It's this way," said Jack: "Most of the prospectors in the country are +staked by bankers and business men outside. And when they at last make +a strike, after years of failure, maybe, their backers generally step +in and grab the lion's share. Consequently the men up here are sore on +the city fellows; they have none of the hardships or the work they say; +they just sit back comfortably and wait for the profits. + +"Beckford said that he and his partner had been done a couple of times +in this way, and they were out to get square with the bankers. When +they found anything good they kept it dark, and went outside and sold +some fake claims to raise the coin to work the good ones. Beckford +said it was just as easy to sell fake claims as good ones, if you went +about it right. + +"I said," Jack went on, "they'll set the police after you. Beckford +said: 'They can't. We don't make any misrepresentations. We're too +smart. We make a mystery of it, and the sucker gets excited, and +swallows it whole. We do the innocent game,' he said; 'we're the +simple, horny-handed sons of soil from the North that ain't on to city +ways. We make 'em think they're putting it all over us, and we sell +out cheap. Two of us can work it fine!" + +"I said," Jack continued, "'I don't see how you can get anybody to +shell out real money unless you offer to come back and show them the +place.' 'We always do offer to come back,' Beckford said, 'and we get +all ready to come. But at the last moment one of us is took real sick, +and the other refuses to leave his dyin' pardner. By that time the +come-on is so worked up he comes across anyway!'" + +During this recital Sir Bryson's face was a study. A kind of shamed +chagrin restrained him from a violent explosion. Jack "had" him, as +Jack would have said. The little beard was in danger of being plucked +out bodily. + +"You can go now," he said in an apoplectic voice. + +"There was one thing more," Jack said at the door. "Beckford said that +if you picked your man right there was no danger of a prosecution. +'Choose one of these guys that sets an awful store on his +respectability,' he said, 'and he'll never blow on himself.'" + +A deeper tinge of purple crept into Sir Bryson's puffing cheeks. + +Jack lingered for a parting shot. "Any man who did get let in for such +a game," he said with a great air of innocence, "hardly deserves any +sympathy, does he, Sir Bryson?" + +Sir Bryson was now beyond speech. He got to his feet; he pulled at his +collar for more air, and he pointed mutely to the door. + +Jack embraced Humpy Jull by the fire, and moaned incoherently. No +amount of laughter could ease his breast of the weight of mirth that +oppressed it. Never was such a joke known in the North. + +During the rest of the evening Jack was in momentary expectation of an +order to break camp and turn back, but none came. On the contrary, +Humpy reported, from the scraps of conversation he had overheard at the +dinner-table, that Sir Bryson, being convinced there was gold somewhere +in the pass, was determined, with Baldwin Ferrie's assistance to do a +little hunting on his own account. Jack smiled indulgently at the +news. It was not long, however, before he had to change his superior +attitude. + +Early on the following morning he was fishing in the backwater below +camp, while Baldwin Ferrie sat on a projecting point of the bank above, +patiently searching the mountainsides with his glasses. + +"I say," Ferrie suddenly called out, "how far is that peak over there, +the pointed one?' + +"About nine miles in a line from here," said Jack. "Fifteen, up the +river and in." + +"What's it called?" + +"Tetrahedron," said Jack. "A surveyor named it." + +"Do you know it at all?" asked Ferrie. + +"Pretty well," said Jack, off-hand. + +"The slope on this side," asked the geologist, "I suppose there is a +stream that drains it? Could you take us to it?" + +Jack looked at him hard, and reeled in his line before he answered. +"There is a little stream," he said, approaching Ferrie. "It has no +name. It empties into Seven-Mile Creek above here. Anybody could find +it. Why do you ask?" + +Ferrie was an amiable soul, and not at all secretive, like his master. +He went into a detailed explanation of the geological formation of +Tetrahedron peak. "You see, it's different from the others," he said, +offering Jack the glasses. "There's a good chance of finding free gold +in the bed of the creek that drains the slope on this side." + +Jack whistled in his mind, as one might say, and looked with a new +respect at Baldwin Ferrie and his field glasses. For it was on that +very little stream he had washed his gold, and there his claims were +situated. It had taken him months of strenuous labour to find what the +geologist had stumbled on in half an hour sitting still. + +Baldwin Ferrie toddled off to report to his master, and Jack sat down +to do some quick thinking. This discovery came of the nature of a +thunderclap. The possibility of their finding his claims had occurred +to him, but he had counted at least on having time to prepare against +it, and here it was only the third day. Jack had made sure of the +choicest claim on Tetrahedron Creek for himself, and that, of course, +they could not touch. But the two adjoining claims, practically as +rich, were still vacant, and Jack meant to have at least the bestowal +of those himself. + +Sir Bryson presently ordered Jean Paul to get the dugout ready for +another all-day trip. In excluding Jack from any share in the +preparations he saved that young man from an embarrassing position, for +had he been officially informed of the destination of the river party, +Jack would have had to make explanations on the spot. + +As it was, even before Sir Bryson was ready, he became busy on his own +account. Finding Davy, he said: "Catch two horses, and saddle them for +you and Mary. You've got to do something for me, and for her to-day. +There's not a minute to lose. While you're saddling up, I'll explain +everything to Mary." + +Davy, who would have gone through Hell's Opening itself at Jack's +command, raced away to find the horses. + +Mary was at the door of her tent sewing. At the sound of Jack's step +she lifted her quiet eyes. There was something in the uplift of Mary's +eyes that stirred Jack queerly, seeing that he was as good as engaged +to another girl, but he put that aside for the present. + +Before he could speak she asked quickly: "What's the matter?" + +He sat beside her on the ground. "Something doing," he said, +"something big! Listen hard, and don't give it away in your face. Go +on sewing as if I was just passing the time of day." + +"I'm listening," she said quietly. + +"You know I told you I'd been prospecting," Jack began. "Well, I made +a rich strike on the little creek that comes down from Tetrahedron +peak. I staked my claim there, and two claims adjoining mine for +whoever I might want to go in with me on it. The names and dates +aren't entered on the two stakes yet, and of course if these people +find them they have a right to enter their own names. Baldwin Ferrie +has doped it out that there's gold on that creek, and that's where +they're off to now. You and Davy must get there first." + +"But how can we?" she said. "They're starting." + +"It will take them three hours to make the mouth of Seven-Mile Creek +against the current," he said. "You can ride it in one. Davy is +getting the horses. If you can get yourselves across the river before +they come up, the claims are saved." + +Mary went on with her quick, even stitches without a break. "Tell me +exactly how to go," she said. + +"Six miles west by the Fort Erskine trail, and then down to the river. +You leave the trail where it turns to the north, under three big pines +that stand by the themselves on the bench. Look sharp and you will +find a trail that I blazed down to the river. At the end of it I left +a little raft for crossing back and forth. If it has been washed down +you'll have to knock another one together. Cross the river, and land +at the lower side of Seven-Mile Creek. You'll find my landing-place +there, and a good trail back to the little creek, and my old camp. The +first square post is a hundred feet upstream from the campfire. You +can't miss it. Keep on going until you come to the second post, and +the third one." + +"What must we do when we find the posts?" she asked. + +"Read the notice on the first one, and that will show you. It reads: +'I, Malcolm Piers, hereby give notice of my intention to file a claim,' +and so forth. And signed and dated at the bottom. The inscriptions +are all written on the other two. All you have to do is to fill in +your name on the second one, 'I, Mary Cranston,' and so on, and on the +third post Davy writes, 'David Cranston, Junior.'" + +Mary stopped sewing. "My name," she said, "and Davy's?" + +"The second claim is yours in your own right," said Jack. Seeing her +expression, he hastily added: "It was a deal that I made with your +father before we started. As to the other, Davy can sign that back to +me." + +"So will I sign mine," said Mary quickly. "I couldn't take it." + +"We can argue that out when you come back," said Jack. "There's not a +minute to lose. Davy's got the horses. Make sure you have a lead +pencil to write on the posts. After you've signed them get back +without running into the governor's party if you can. I don't want the +storm to break until I am there to receive it." + +Ten minutes after Sir Bryson with Baldwin Ferrie and three Indians, had +pushed off from the bank, Mary and Davy Cranston sauntered +inconspicuously away from camp, and, mounting their horses outside, set +off at a dead run west on the Fort Erskine trail. + + + + +X + +A CRUMBLING BRAIN + +Jack set about to fill his anxious day as full as possible with small +tasks. Along the shore toward the mouth of the canyon he found another +dugout sticking out from among the bushes, and he pulled it out to put +it in repair in case a second boat should be required. It needed new +cross-pieces to hold the sides from spreading. + +While he was seated on a boulder whittling his little braces out of +snowy poplar, Garrod came shambling over the stones toward him. Jack, +seeing the high-powered rifle he carried, turned a little grim, and +while apparently going on with his work, watched the other man +narrowly. His ideas covering Garrod had taken a new direction since he +had talked with Mary. + +Garrod came slowly, pausing, starting jerkily, fluctuating from side to +side. When he thought Jack's eyes were upon him he turned his back +like a child, and made believe to look off up the river. His eyes were +blank and lustreless, but close-hid under the thickened lids glimmered +a mean furtive sentence. There was no striking change in him; the +canvas suit was still in fair condition; he shaved every morning from +force of habit; and when he was spoken to he could still answer with +sufficient intelligence. But any one experienced in diseased mental +states would have recognized at once that this man was in no condition +to be trusted at large with a gun. + +Among the members of Sir Bryson's party there existed an entire absence +of formality together with an entire absence of intimacy. They were +not curious about each other, consequently Garrod's state excited no +remark. True, Mrs. Worsley wondered a little, but she had always felt +an antipathy to Garrod; as for the others, they merely said, "Queerer +than ever," and dismissed him with a shrug. + +Jack, watching the wavering figure approaching him now, thought of the +reckless, hawk-eyed youth of five years before, and was made thoughtful +by the change. "Gad! Life has had him on the toaster," he thought. + +When Garrod came close enough to be heard he stammered, avoiding Jack's +eyes: "I--I want to talk to you, Malcolm." + +"Put down the gun," said Jack coolly. "Out of reach." + +Garrod immediately laid it on the stones. "You don't think that I----" +he mumbled. + +"I don't think anything," said Jack, "but I'm taking no chances." + +Garrod's eyes strayed everywhere, and his voice maundered. "I suppose +you think I'm an utter cur. I know it looks bad. But not that---- +Maybe you think that I--your horse--on the cliff----" + +"I'm not accusing you," said Jack. + +Garrod sat down near him. "I--want to talk to you," he said, +forgetting that he had said it before. + +"All that you and I have to say to each other can be put in one +question and answer," said Jack. "Are you going to square me?" + +"I--I'd like to," stammered Garrod. + +Jack looked up surprised. There was more in the answer than he had +expected. "You will?" he cried, bright-eyed. "You've come to tell me +that! By Gad! that would be a plucky thing to do after all these +years. I didn't think you had it in you!" + +"I--I'd like to," murmured Garrod, as before. + +"Easy enough if you want to," said Jack. "You only have to speak the +truth." + +"That wouldn't do you any good," said Garrod. + +"What do you mean?" Jack demanded. + +"It's not what you think," said Garrod. "I didn't take the money." + +"Who did then?" + +"The bank was robbed," said Garrod. "The morning after you went away. +Three men broke in during the night, and hid until morning. When +Rokeby and I opened the safe, they overpowered us and got away with the +money. We had no business to open up until the others came, and we +were afraid to tell. I thought it wouldn't do you any harm as long as +you were away. If you had come back I would have told." + +There was a glib tone in all this that caused Jack's lip to curl. +"Well, what's to prevent your telling now?" he asked. + +"They wouldn't believe me," said Garrod. "They'd think I was just +trying to shield you, my old friend." + +"But there's Rokeby to back you up!" + +"He's dead," muttered Garrod. + +A harsh note of laughter broke from Jack. + +"I suppose you don't believe me," said Garrod. + +"Hardly," said Jack. "It fits in a bit too well." + +Garrod's voice rose shaky and shrill: "It's true! I swear it! Three +men; French, they were. I can see them now! One was young; he had a +scar across his forehead----' + +"Oh, cut out the fine touches," said Jack contemptuously. "Any fool +could see you were lying." He went on whittling his brace. + +Garrod's voice sunk to a whimper. "It's true! It's true!" + +Jack began to perceive that it was scarcely a reasonable being he had +to deal with. He took a different line. "I guess you've led a dog's +life these last few years," he said quietly. + +Garrod looked at him queerly. "Oh, my God," he said in a flat voice. +"Nobody knows." + +"I suppose you know what's the matter with you," said Jack. There was +no answer. + +"It's what the story-books call remorse," said Jack. "You can't go to +work and ruin your best friend without having bad dreams afterward." + +"I never took the money," Garrod murmured. + +Jack ignored it. "Your friend," he repeated with a direct look. "Do +you remember, as we stood waiting for my train to pull out, you put +your arm around my shoulders, and said: 'Buck up, old fel'! We've got +in many a hole together, and we always saw each other out! Count on +me--until death!' Do you remember that?" + +"Yes," murmured Garrod. + +"And next morning you took the money to pay your debts, to get you out +of your hole, knowing they would put it off on me. You pushed me into +a hole as deep as hell, and left me to rot there." + +Garrod put up a trembling hand as if to fend off a blow. "I didn't +take it," he murmured still. + +"Look me in the eyes, and swear it," demanded Jack. + +He could not. + +"Now, look here," said Jack. "You're in a bad way. You can't stand +much more. There's going to be a grand show-down to-night. Do you +think you can go through with that?" + +"Eh?" asked Garrod, dully and anxiously. + +"Listen to me, and try to understand," said Jack impatiently. "Sir +Bryson has gone to look at my claims. He will read the name Malcolm +Piers written on the post, and when he comes back he will know who I +am, and there'll be the deuce to pay. Do you think you're in any state +to face me down? Why, man, the very look of you is enough to give you +away!" + +Garrod merely looked at him with dull, frightened eyes. "Suppose you +could face me down," Jack continued, "what then? You can't face +yourself down. You were born a decent fellow at heart, Frank, and you +can't get away with this sort of thing. It's got you. And every new +lie you tell just adds to the nightmare that's breaking you now. +You've reached the limit. Anything more, and you'll go clean off your +head." + +"You'll tell Sir Bryson everything," muttered Garrod. + +"When I am accused I defend myself," said Jack. + +"I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't," Garrod said like a +frightened, stupefied schoolboy. + +"Sure, you couldn't," urged Jack, pursuing his advantage. "Make a +clean breast of it before Sir Bryson comes home, and you won't have to +face him at all. By Gad! think what a load off your mind! You'd be +cured then; you'd sleep; you'd be a man again!" + +But Garrod murmured again: "I didn't take the money." + +Jack fought hard for his good name. His need lent him an eloquence +more than his own. In all this he never stooped by so much as a word +to plead for himself. "Why shouldn't you tell the truth?" he +persisted. "What good is this life you're leading to you? It'll kill +you in a month. Chuck it all, and stay in this country, and win back +your health, and your brains, and your self-respect." + +Garrod wavered. He half turned to Jack with a more human look. +"Would--would you be friends with me again?" he murmured. + +"I'd stand by you," said Jack quickly. "I've got my start up here, and +I could give you a good one. As long as I stood by you no one could +rake up old scores. But it couldn't be just the same as it used to +be," his honesty forced him to add. + +Jack waited with his eyes fixed compellingly on the other man. +Garrod's eyes struggled to escape them, and could not. Suddenly he +broke down, and buried his head in his arms. "I'll do it!" he sobbed. + +Jack sprang up. "Good!" he cried with blazing eyes. "The whole truth? +You took the money, and spent it, and let them fasten the theft on me?" + +"I took the money, and spent it, and let them fasten the theft on you," +repeated Garrod. + +Jack drew a long breath, and, sitting again, wiped his face. Not until +he felt the sense of relief that surged through him did he realize how +much this had meant to him. He could look almost kindly on the +stricken figure in front of him now, and the sobs inspired him with +none of the disgust he would have felt at any other time. He waited +patiently for Garrod to recover himself. When the man at last became +quiet he said, not unkindly: + +"Are you ready now?" + +"For what?" asked Garrod, lifting a terrified face. + +"Let us go back to camp. Vassall is there. You can tell him." + +Garrod desperately shook his head. "Linda--Miss Trangmar is there. I +couldn't--I couldn't have her hear me!" + +"But we could take Vassall away." + +"No," he said. "Don't you understand? Vassall is after her. He'll be +glad of this. I couldn't tell him." + +"What if he knew about Linda and me," thought Jack with a sidelong +look. "Gad! but life's a rum go!" + +"I'd rather face Sir Bryson," stuttered Garrod. "Wait till Sir Bryson +comes back. I swear I'll tell him the whole truth, and you shall be +there." + +"You're right, I'll be there," said Jack grimly. He considered, +frowning. It might be better to confront Sir Bryson with Garrod +direct, but Sir Bryson would not be back for five or six hours, and who +could tell what contradictions of mood would pass over this half-insane +man in the interval. + +As if reading his mind, Garrod said: "I won't take anything back. You +needn't be afraid--if you let me stay with you. You're my only hope. +Let me stay with you. Give me something to do all day." + +Jack rubbed his chin in perplexity. "Will you write out a confession?" +he finally asked. + +Garrod eagerly nodded his head. + +"Wait here, then," commanded Jack. + +Jack ran to his tent, where he got a pen and his note-book, and +returned to the dugout. He was gone but two minutes, nevertheless as +he sprang down the bank he saw that Garrod was no longer alone. Jean +Paul had joined him. + +It did not occur to Jack that the half-breed had any concern in this +affair, but he was annoyed by his intrusion just at this minute. He +looked at him sharply. Jean Paul stood idly chewing a grass-stalk, and +looking out over the river with a face as expressionless as brown +paper. Garrod was sitting as Jack had left him, looking at Jean Paul. +A change had passed over his eyes. + +Jack's temper got a little the better of him. "What do you want here?" +he demanded. + +Jean Paul turned with an air of mild surprise. "Not'ing," he said. +"Wat's the matter? I saw you and Garrod here, and I came. I got +not'ing to do." + +"Go find something," said Jack. "Clear out! Make yourself scarce! +Vamoose!" + +Jean Paul, with a deprecatory shrug, walked slowly on up the beach. + +"I have pen and paper," Jack said eagerly to Garrod. + +Garrod's dazed eyes were following Jean Paul's retreating figure. He +paid no attention. It was only too evident that his mood had changed. + +Jack's face grew red. "Have you gone back on it already?" he said with +an oath. + +"I must go," muttered Garrod, struggling to rise. + +Jack thrust him back. "You stay where you are!" + +But as soon as Jack took his hands off him Garrod endeavoured to get up +and follow Jean Paul, who by this time had climbed the bank. Garrod's +wasted strength was no match for Jack's but Jack could hardly see +himself sitting there holding the other man down until Sir Bryson +returned. He looked around for inspiration. There was a length of +rope fastened to the bow of the dugout. Cutting off a piece of it, he +tied Garrod's wrists and ankles, and let him lie. + +Jack sat down and filled his pipe, watching Garrod grimly meanwhile, +and trying to puzzle out a solution. The man spoke no articulate word +except to mutter once or twice that he must go. Occasionally he +struggled feebly in his bonds like a fish at the last gasp. Still it +did not occur to Jack to connect this new phase of his sickness with +the appearance of the half-breed. Jack's heart was sore. "Of what use +was the confession of a man in such a state?" he thought. In Jack's +simple system of treatment there was but one remedy for all swoons or +seizures, viz., cold water. Upon thinking of this he got up and, +filling his hat in the river, dashed the contents in Garrod's face. + +It had the desired effect. Garrod gasped and shivered, and looked at +Jack as if he saw him for the first. He ceased to struggle, and Jack +untied the ropes. Garrod sat up, a ghastly figure, with the water +trickling from his dank hair over his livid face. + +"I'm all wet," he said, putting up the back of his hand. Without +expressing any curiosity as to what had happened, he dried his face and +neck with his handkerchief. + +"Do you remember what we were talking about?" asked Jack, concealing +his anxiety. + +"You wanted me to write something," Garrod said dully. + +"Are you willing?" + +Garrod nodded, and held out his hand for the pen and the little book. + +Jack breathed freely again. The blade of a paddle served Garrod for a +writing table. The man was entirely submissive. + +"But do you know what you're doing?" demanded Jack frowning. + +Garrod nodded again. "You want me to write out a confession," he said. +"What shall I write." + +Jack dictated: "I, Francis Garrod, desire to state of my own free will +that on the morning of October ninth, nineteen hundred and six, I took +the sum of five thousand dollars from the vault of the Bank of Canada, +Montreal. I knew that Malcolm Piers had gone away, and I allowed the +theft to be fixed on him." + +He signed the page, and dated it. Taking the book, Jack slipped it in +the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. Jack was genuinely moved. It +was borne in on him dimly that though he was technically the injured +party, it was the other man who showed the wound. + +"You'll feel better now," he said gruffly. + +Garrod lay back on the stones, and covered his face with his arm. "I +suppose you loathe me, Malcolm," he muttered. + +"You've gone a long way to make it up," Jack said, in the keenest +discomfort. "Just give me a little time." + +Garrod's thoughts strayed in another direction. "What will _she_ say?" +he whispered. + +Considering everything, this was a poser for Jack. "You've got no +business to be thinking about girls in your state," he said frowning. +"Put her out of your mind, man, and go to work to win back what you've +lost." + +Garrod reverted to the night five years before. "I didn't mean to take +the money," he murmured. "I couldn't sleep after you went, that night, +and all night I played with the idea as if it was a story. Supposing I +_did_ take the money, you know, how I would cover my tracks, and so on. +But I never meant to. And next morning when I went to the bank I was +alone in the vault for a moment, and I slipped the package in my pocket +just to carry out the idea, and Rokeby came in before I could put it +back. Then the money was counted, and the shortage discovered. I had +plenty of other chances to put it back, for the money was counted +twenty times, but I was always afraid of being seen, and I kept putting +it off, and at last the alarm was given and it was too late. They were +old bills and they couldn't be traced. + +"I don't know how I lived through the time that followed. I was afraid +to put it back then, because the fellows talked about my changed looks, +and I knew if the money turned up they would suspect me. As it was, +they thought I was grieving on your account. I was, too, but not the +way they thought. I set a store by you, Malcolm. I didn't mean to +injure you. I just drifted into it, and I was caught before I knew. +The thought of meeting you brought the sweat pouring out of me. I +thought you would come back. I bought a revolver, and carried it +always. If I had come face to face with you it would have nerved me to +turn it on myself, which I couldn't do alone. + +"You didn't come. The thing was quickly hushed up. I left the bank, +and my life went on like anybody's. I didn't think about the money any +more. But something had changed in me. I was nervous and cranky +without knowing why. I couldn't sleep nights. I was full of silly +terrors, always looking around corners, and over my shoulder. And it +kept getting worse." + +Garrod's voice never varied from the toneless half-whisper that was +like a man talking in his sleep. "Then I came up here," he went on, +"and ran into you without any warning. It was like a blow on the +temple. It all came back to me. Then I knew what was the matter. I +didn't kill myself on the spot, because I found you didn't know. I +wish I had. I've died a thousand deaths since. It was like little +knives in my brain thrusting and hacking. I could have screamed with +it----" + +Jack's increasing discomfort became more than he could bear. "For +heaven's sake, don't tell all this," he burst out. "At least not to +me. I'm the one you injured. Pull yourself together!" + +"It is a relief to get it out," Garrod murmured with a sigh. "I can +sleep now." + +Jack got up. "Sleep, that's what you need," he said. "Come back to +your tent, and lie low for the rest of the day." + +"I--I don't want to be alone," stammered Garrod. + +"Well, stretch out here in the grass," suggested Jack. + +"You won't go away without waking me?" Garrod said anxiously. + +"All right," said Jack. + +Above the stones of the beach extended a narrow strip of grass, shaded +from the sun by thickly springing willows. Behind and above the +willows the trail skirted the escarpment of the bank. Garrod crawled +into the shade and stretched himself out. Once or twice he started up +to look rather wildly if Jack were still there; finally he slept. + +Meanwhile Jack, returning to the dugout, took up his poplar braces +again, with the instant concentration on the job in hand of which he +was capable. Jack's highly practical temperament was at once the +source of his strength and his weakness. On the one hand, he conserved +his nervous energy by refusing to worry about things not immediately +present; on the other hand, his refusal to track these same things down +in his mind often left him unprepared for further eventualities. At +this moment, while his attentive blue eyes directed his sure hands, he +had not altogether ceased to think of the strange things that had +happened, but it was only a subconscious current. There was evidence +of it in the way his hand occasionally strayed to the pocket of his +shirt to make sure the little book was still there. + +Jack had pushed the dugout partly into the water. The stern floated in +a backwater on the lower side of a little point of stones that jutted +out. On this point impinged the descending current, which was +deflected out, straight for the opening in the wall of rock, a thousand +feet or so downstream. Little could be seen of this opening from +above; the first fall hid the white welter below, and the bend in the +walls of rock closed up the prospect. It was as if the river came to +an end here in a round bay with a stony beach, and rich, green-clad +shores. Only the deep, throaty roar from under the wall of rock gave +warning that this was really "Hell's Opening." + +Jack thought of no reason for watching Garrod now, and his back was +turned to him as he worked. He therefore did not notice that the +leaves of the willows above Garrod's head were occasionally twitched on +their stems in a different way from the fluttering produced by a +current of air. Only a sharp and attentive eye could have spotted it, +for the movement was very slight, and there were long pauses between. +After a while the leaves low down were parted, and for an instant a +dark face showed, bright and eager with evil. It was Jean Paul. +Marking Jack's position and Garrod's, he drew back. Garrod was +immediately below him. + +More minutes passed. The patience of a redskin is infinite. + +Finally Garrod began to twitch and mutter in his sleep, and presently +he rolled over on his back, wide awake. Jack threw him a careless +glance, and went on working. As Garrod lay staring at the leaves over +his head, a change passed subtly over his face; the lines of his flesh +relaxed a little, a slight glaze seemed to be drawn over his eyes. In +the end he slowly raised himself on one elbow, and looked at Jack with +an exact reproduction of the cunning, hateful expression Jean Paul had +shown. He quickly dropped back, and lay, waiting. + +Presently, Jack having finished the shaping of his braces, picked up +hammer and nails, and with another off-hand glance at the apparently +sleeping Garrod, climbed into the dugout. He put in the stern thwart +first, sitting on his heels in the bottom of the dugout, with his back +toward the shore. + +Garrod raised his head again, and seeing Jack's attitude, drew himself +slowly up, and came crawling with infinite caution down over the +stones. Back among the leaves a fiery pair of eyes was directing him. +This was where Jack's faculty of concentration proved his undoing. +Driving the nails as if his soul's fate rested on the accuracy of his +strokes, he never looked around. Garrod covered the last five yards at +a crouching run. Seizing the bow of the dugout, and exerting all his +strength, he heaved the craft out into the stream. + +The force and the suddenness of the shove threw Jack flat on his back. +By the time he recovered himself, the dugout fairly caught in the +current and, gradually gaining way, was headed straight for Hell's +Opening. + +If Jack allowed the moment to take him unawares, it must be said he +wasted no time when it came. His faculties leaped in the presence of +danger. His bright, wary, calculating eyes first sought for the +paddle, but it lay back on the stones where Garrod had used it. He +looked at Garrod. The man had picked up his gun, and was running +toward him. He kept pace with the moving dugout along the edge of the +stones. Not more than fifty feet separated the two men. Jack measured +the distance to the backwater. Ten swimming strokes would have carried +him to safety. + +"If you jump overboard I'll shoot," Garrod murmured huskily. "I'll get +you easy in the water!" + +Jack saw that it was madness he had to deal with, and he wasted no +words with him. Garrod, crouching, stumbling over the stones, with his +strained, inhuman eyes fixed on Jack, was an ugly sight. He muttered +as he went: + +"I've got to kill you. I can't help it. I've got to!" + +Jack stood up in the canoe. The blue eyes were steady, and the thin +line of his lips was firm, but the rich colour slowly faded out of his +sunburned face, leaving it like old ivory. All this had happened in a +moment; the dugout was not yet fully under way, though it seemed to +Jack as if it were flying down. The harbouring backwater still +stretched between him and the shore. He had a minute or longer to make +his choice. The roaring canyon that ground its great tree-trunks into +shreds was vividly present before his eyes; on the other hand, he could +jump overboard and make his bobbing head a mark like a bottle for a +madman to shoot at. A minute to decide in, and there he was tinglingly +alive, and life was very sweet. + +A woman's frightened voice rang out: "Jack! what are you doing out +there? Come ashore!" + +He looked and saw Linda standing in the trail by the bank's edge. +Garrod was hidden from her by the intervening bushes. She came flying +down, regardless. Garrod heard the voice, and, turning toward it, +stopped dead. His muscles relaxed, and the butt of the gun dropped on +the stones. + +Jack laughed, and jumped overboard. Half a dozen strokes carried him +into the backwater; twenty landed him hands and knees on the stones. +Rising face to face with Garrod, he snatched the gun from his nerveless +hands and sent it spinning into the bushes. Without looking at the +girl he ran and caught up the paddle, ran back along the stones, +plunged in and, heading off the dugout, wriggled himself aboard. It +became a question then of his strength against the sucking current. +The dugout hung in the stream as if undecided. Finally it swung around +inch by inch, swept inshore, and grounded with perhaps five yards to +spare. + +As he landed the second time Linda cast herself weeping and trembling +on his dripping bosom. "What did you frighten me like that for?" she +cried, beating him with her small fists. + +Jack laughed, and held her off. "It's a good boat," he said; "besides, +the hammer was in it, the only one we have." + +"How did you get adrift?" she demanded. + +Jack looked at Garrod with a hardening eye. Garrod still stood where +he had stopped. His eyes were blank of sense or feeling. Linda flew +toward him, her slight frame instinct and quivering with menace. + +"You coward!" she hissed. + +Jack held her off. "Let him alone," he said. "His wits are clean +gone!" + +He started to lead Garrod, unresisting, back to camp. Suddenly he +remembered the note-book, and his hand flew to his pocket. It was gone. + + + + +XI + +THE SHOWDOWN + +Sidney Vassall, wondering what had become of Linda, wandered about camp +covertly looking for her. The amiable young aide-de-camp had his dull +heartache too, these days. An instinct warned him that the humble +attitude he displayed toward her would never succeed in focussing the +little beauty's attention on himself, but he was unable to change it. +He was the victim of his own amiability. + +Coming to the edge of the bank, he met the odd little procession coming +up; Garrod with his wild, blank stare; Jack with his hand twisted in +Garrod's collar, and Linda following at a little distance, pale, angry, +and frightened. + +Vassall's jaw dropped. "What's the matter?" he stammered. + +Jack let go his hold on Garrod, and scowled at him, angry and +perplexed. "He's mad," he said shortly. "Clean daft!" + +Vassall fell back a step. "Easy, for God's sake," he murmured. +"She'll hear you." + +"Oh, she knows," Jack said carelessly. "The question is, what are we +to do with him?" + +The first command in Vassall's highly artificial code was: "Keep it +from the women!" Turning to Linda with a shaky imitation of his polite +smile, he said: "Mrs. Worsley has been wondering where you were. +You'll find her in the big tent." + +To which Linda's impatient rejoinder was: "Don't be silly." + +"This is no place for you," Vassall went on earnestly; "I beg that you +will go to Mrs. Worsley, and let us attend to this." + +"No place for me?" Linda burst out. "What do you think I am, a doll? +I can be as much help to Jack as you can!" + +Vassall turned pale at the sound of the familiar name on her lips. + +Garrod stood motionless, apparently neither seeing nor hearing. + +"He's quiet enough now," said Jack rubbing his chin; "but you can't +tell when he may break out again. A tent is no place to keep a madman. +We'll have to tie him up, Vassall." + +"Oh, we can't do that," murmured the other man. He all but wrung his +hands. "This is too dreadful! Miss Linda, I beg of you! What will +Sir Bryson say?" + +Linda's eyes passed contemptuously over him. "What is there I can do?" +she asked Jack. + +"Find Jean Paul," he said. + +As if evoked by the sound of his name, the half-breed issued at that +moment from among the trees on their left, and approached them. If his +designs had miscarried, he gave no sign of it. One could hardly have +guessed that he harboured designs. His face was as smooth as velvet, +his manner calm, respectful, inquiring. + +"Wat's the matter?" he asked. He looked at Garrod and appeared to +comprehend with a start. "Ah, weh-ti-go!" he said, using the Cree word +for madness. He shook his head in sober compassion. "I t'ink so me, +before; many days he is act fonny." + +It was perfection, and Jack was completely taken in. It seemed good to +him to find some one quiet and capable. "He will have to be tied up +and watched," said Jack. "He tried to launch me into the canyon." + +"Wah! Wah!" exclaimed Jean Paul, holding up his hands at the thought. +"I put him in my tent," he went on. "You and I all time watch him." + +Thus Garrod was given in charge of Jean Paul, as Jean Paul had +designed. He led him away, looking rather amused. White men were so +easy to fool. + +Jack went back for the gun, and to search up and down in case he might +have dropped the precious note-book on the shore. Linda tagged after +him, and Vassall followed Linda, because he could not support his +bewilderment and dismay alone. + +"What are you looking for?" Linda kept asking. + +"Something I lost out of my pocket," Jack said; "a note-book." He +could not bring himself to tell her more. + +It was not there of course. The canyon had it long before this. When +they returned to camp Humpy Jull was carrying lunch into the big tent. +Linda commanded Jack to change his clothes and come and eat with them. +He shook his head. + +She stamped her foot. "You must come! Kate has to be told. We need +you to hold us together. Kate!" she called out. "Make him come and +have lunch with us." + +Mrs. Worsley nodded and smiled from the door of the tent. + +"Very well," said Jack. "One minute." + +Then Linda perversely frowned and bit her lip because Kate could bring +him with a nod, where she was unable to command. + +It was not a cheerful meal that followed. Jack told Mrs. Worsley +briefly what had happened, Vassall supplying a lamentable chorus. Mrs. +Worsley took it with raised eyebrows and closed lips. Afterward Jack +relapsed into silence. He had difficult matters of his own to think +of. None of them knew of his intimate connection with Garrod, and it +was impossible for him to speak to them of what concerned him so +closely. Meanwhile the three talked as people always talk, of Garrod's +strange behaviour during the last few days, and how anybody could have +seen what was going to happen, if anybody had thought. + +After they had come out of the tent, Jack saw Mary stroll through the +trees on the westerly side of camp. His eye brightened. Since they +were back so soon they must have been successful. Mary quietly set to +work to prepare their dinner. In a little while Davy appeared dragging +the saddles. + +"What have they been up to?" Linda said curiously. "They've been gone +all morning." + +"I suppose they have their own matters to attend to," Mrs. Worsley +said, relieving Jack of the necessity of answering. + +When a decent interval had elapsed Jack strolled over to the Cranston's +fire. "Were you in time?" he asked casually. + +Mary raised a face as controlled as his own. "Yes," she said. "We did +what you told us." + +"Did you meet the other party?" he asked anxiously. + +She shook her head. "We found your raft," she said; "so we had plenty +of time. We landed above Seven-Mile Creek, so they could not see the +raft when they came up. After we had marked the posts we crossed the +little stream, and came back on that side, as they went up the other. +We heard them. The Indians would see our tracks of course, but Sir +Bryson pays no attention to them." + +"Good!" said Jack. "That has turned out all all right, anyway." + +Mary searched his face, and a flash of anxiety appeared in her quiet +eyes. "Something has happened here?" she said. + +Jack nodded. His constricted breast welled up. Here was somebody he +could tell. He did not reflect on the ambiguity of the situation. He +only knew instinctively that he needed help, and that help was to be +had in those deep eyes. However, he stuck to the bare facts of his +narrative. + +"There's a good deal beneath that," said Mary. + +"Yes," he said. "I'll tell you when I can." + +"You must let me help you," she said earnestly. "I understand the +people so much better than you can." + +"The people?" he said surprised. + +"The natives," she said. "I think that Jean Paul is at the bottom of +this." + +Jack stared at her. This was quite a new thought to him. It required +consideration. + +Their further talk was prevented by the customary shrill hail from up +river, announcing the return of the boat party. Travelling downstream, +they were able to make ten miles an hour, consequently they arrived +close on the heels of the Cranstons, who had left Seven-Mile Creek an +hour before them. + +Jack went back to the others at the door of the big tent. Linda +received him sulkily, but he made believe not to be aware of it. + +"Who will tell Sir Bryson?" murmured Vassall. + +"I will," said Jack firmly. "I have to talk to him anyway." + +"What about?" demanded Linda. + +"Mining claims," said Jack "and other things! There has to be a +general showdown to-night." He spoke with affected carelessness, +nevertheless his heart was beating at the thought of what he must go +through with. + +They looked at him questioningly. + +"You may as well all know it," said Jack. "I am Malcolm Piers." + +Before Mrs. Worsley and Vassall had time to recover from their +stupefaction at this announcement, Sir Bryson and Baldwin Ferrie came +striding from the river-bank. It appeared as if all Sir Bryson's river +expeditions were doomed to disappointment. Again he was in a furious +temper, and trying without success to conceal it. He passed inside the +tent without noticing anybody. Baldwin Ferrie followed him. Jack, +without waiting for a command, went in after them. + +Sir Bryson flung himself into a chair, and opened up on Jack without +any preliminaries. "You say you have worked up and down this pass," he +said. "Did you ever hear the name Malcolm Piers?" + +"Yes, sir," he said. + +Sir Bryson leaned forward in his chair, and peered at Jack through +squeezed-up eyes in a way that he intended to be magisterial and +intimidating. "Where is this fellow now?" he barked. + +Jack smiled a little grimly. "He is before you," he said quietly. "I +am Malcolm Piers." + +Sir Bryson fell back in his chair, and puffed. He appeared to have +suffered a sudden loss of motive power. "Well, well, I knew that," he +said flatly. "But I didn't expect you to have the assurance to admit +it to my face." + +"I have no reason to conceal my name," said Jack. + +Sir Bryson gradually worked himself up again. "No reason?" he cried. +"You young blackguard! It was an honourable name until it descended to +you! I ought to have guessed the truth from your intimacy with the +details of these swindling operations. No reason? We'll see what the +law has to say to that!" + +"The law?" said Jack, quickly. "The money which I did not take has +been paid into the bank. What has the law to do with it?" + +Sir Bryson smiled disagreeably. "Apparently you do not know," he said, +"that you are under indictment for grand larceny, and that your uncle, +Mr. McInnes, directed his executors to see that you were prosecuted +whenever you should be found." + +This was a staggerer for Jack. + +"Aha! that touches you!" said Sir Bryson. "That shakes your impudence, +eh? Moreover, I do not think the province of Athabasca, of which I +have the honour to be chief executive, will raise any obstacles to +giving you up to the province of Quebec!" + +Jack felt a little sick with helpless rage. He drew the mask of +obstinacy over his face, and held his tongue. What could he say? It +would only draw down their ridicule for him to confess that the only +witness to his innocence was an insane man. + +He submitted to receive a long moral lecture in Sir Bryson's best vein. +"Do you realize," the governor said in conclusion, "that as the head of +this province it is my duty to put you under arrest, and hand you over +to the authorities?" + +Jack by this time had been goaded pretty far. "And so prevent me from +filing my claim?" he said with a dangerous light in his eyes. + +Sir Bryson swelled and puffed. "Tut!" he said. "Naturally the +government does not intend that its valuable mining privileges shall +fall into the hands of felons." + +"I am not yet a felon," said Jack quietly; "and the three claims are +not yet yours." + +It was Sir Bryson's turn to grow red. There were no papers handy, and +he fussed with his watch charm. "As to the other two claims," he said +finally, "you have overreached yourself there. The notices on the +posts are dated to-day, and it will be easy to prove that your friends +could not have got there before we did to-day." + +Jack found a momentary pleasure in describing to Sir Bryson how it had +been done. + +Naturally Sir Bryson was infuriated. "So it appears I have been +harbouring a conspiracy!" he shouted. + +"Nothing of the kind," said Jack. "The three claims were staked out +before you came into the country. Isn't the rest of the creek enough +for you? There's plenty of pay dirt. I have worked for five years to +find this place, and the best of it belongs to me by right." + +"Hold your tongue!" cried Sir Bryson tremblingly. "Don't attempt to +bandy words with me! You can go until I decide what is to be done with +you!" + +It occurred to Jack dimly that he was scarcely acting the part of +prudence in thus exasperating his judge to the highest degree, and he +cooled down. So they were not going to put him under restraint +immediately. It would have been rather difficult anyway. With all his +anger there was an uncandid look in the little governor's eye. Jack +wondered what he was getting at. Suddenly the idea went through his +mind that Sir Bryson hoped he might ride out of camp that night, and +never show his face again. In other words, the unspoken proposal was: +his liberty in exchange for his claims. Jack smiled a little at the +thought, his fighting smile. + +"What are you waiting for?" demanded Sir Bryson. + +"I have something to tell you," Jack said, mildly. "Garrod----" + +"What about him?" + +"He is very sick. He appears to have gone out of his mind." + +"What nonsense is this?" puffed Sir Bryson. + +"Mad, insane, crazy; whatever word you like," said Jack. + +The little governor was startled out of his pomposity. He turned to +Baldwin Ferrie, plucking at his beard. For the moment he forgot his +animosity against Jack, and asked him innumerable questions. + +"Set you adrift?" he said, when Jack had told his tale. "What could +have led him to do that?" + +This was the moment Jack had been dreading. He drew a long breath, +and, looking Sir Bryson in the eye, told him the whole story of himself +and Frank Garrod. Sir Bryson, as Jack expected, sneered and +pooh-poohed it throughout. On the face of it, it was a fantastic and +improbable tale, but a disinterested person seeing Jack's set jaw and +level eyes, and hearing his painstakingly detailed account, could +scarcely have doubted he was telling the truth. Baldwin Ferrie was +impressed, and he was not altogether disinterested. + +"Lost the note-book, eh?" sneered Sir Bryson. "And you expect me to +believe this on your unsupported word! Garrod's life has been +exemplary!" + +"Miss Trangmar saw me when I was cast adrift," said Jack patiently. +"As to the rest, I think Garrod will bear me out, if he ever comes to +his right senses. Why not have him in here now, and look him over? He +may be better." + +Sir Bryson was very much excited. He called Vassall into the tent, and +the three men held a whispered consultation. Presently Linda came in, +pale and charged with emotion. She headed directly for Jack. He +fended her off with a look. + +"If you give anything away, it will queer me for good with this crowd," +he swiftly whispered. + +She could not but perceive the force of this. A spasm passed over her +face. Turning, she sat in a chair near the door, doing her best to +look unconcerned. + +When Sir Bryson saw her, he said: "We have important matters to +discuss, my dear." + +"It's only a tent," said Linda. "You can hear every word outside +anyway." + +"My dear----" began Sir Bryson. + +"I'm going to stay," said Linda tempestuously, and that was the end of +it. + +The upshot of the consultation was that Jack should be confronted with +Garrod. Sir Bryson was opposed to it, but the other two overruled him. +Vassall went off to get Garrod, and they waited. + +Sir Bryson's table was toward the top of the tent, and as he sat he +faced the door. He frowned, and tapped on the table and pulled his +beard. Occasionally, in spite of himself, his eyes bolted. It was as +if a horrible doubt kept recurring to him that the situation was +getting too much for him; that he had stirred up more than he was able +to settle. Jack stood to the right of the table, with his upper lip +drawn in, his face as hard as a wall. Poor Jack had no ingratiating +ways when he was put on the defensive. Mrs. Worsley stole into the +tent, and, sitting beside Linda, took her trembling hand. Baldwin +Ferrie bent over them, and with a pale face whispered soothing things +that they made no pretence of listening to. + +At last Vassall pulled the tent flap back, and Garrod came in. He was +well-brushed and tended. He walked without assistance, and his face +was composed. Manifestly another change had taken place in him during +the last few hours, a change for the better. Jack's heart began to +beat more hopefully. There was still something queer about Garrod's +eyes. Jean Paul Ascota and Vassall followed him in. + +The half-breed constituted himself the sick man's nurse. Seeing a +chair, he placed it for him at Sir Bryson's left, and Garrod sat down. +Garrod had not greeted anybody on entering. Jean Paul stood over him +watchful and solicitous. Mary's warning occurred to Jack, but what was +he to do? The half-breed's attitude was irreproachable. + +"I am sorry to hear that you have been very sick, Mr. Garrod," Sir +Bryson began. + +"Yes, sir," said Garrod composedly. "My head has been troubling me +very much." + +There was a curious, stiff quality in Garrod's voice, but that might +easily have been accounted for by what he had been through. In spite +of the man's apparent recovery, a dull anxiety that he could not +explain, began to shape itself in Jack's breast. + +"You are quite yourself again?" continued Sir Bryson. + +"Yes, sir," said Garrod. + +"Do you remember what happened this morning?" + +"Yes, sir, up to a certain point. I had a shock." + +"Um!" said Sir Bryson. "This man," pointing to Jack, "accuses you of +setting him adrift in the current. Is it true?" + +There was a slight pause before each of Garrod's answers. This time +his hearers held their breaths. + +"There is some mistake," he said composedly. "He was working in the +boat, and it must have drifted off. I was asleep." + +The pent-up breaths escaped. Jack turned a little paler, and set his +teeth. He was not surprised; something had warned him of what was +coming. Sir Bryson looked at his daughter. + +"Linda, I understand that you were present," he said. "Did you see Mr. +Garrod push the boat off?" + +"He did it," she began excitedly. "I know he did it." + +"I asked you if you saw him do it?" Sir Bryson said severely. + +"No," she said sullenly. "It was already adrift when I came." + +Sir Bryson, with a satisfied air, turned back to Garrod. "Do you know +this man?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir," said Garrod. "It is Malcolm Piers. We were friends years +ago, before he ran away." + +Jack looked at him with a kind of grim surprise. + +"He claims," continued Sir Bryson, "that you were the only person who +knew of his intention to leave Montreal for good, and that after he had +gone you took the money and let the theft be fastened on him. Is that +true?" + +There was the same tense pause while they waited for the answer. + +"It is not true," said Garrod. "I knew he was going away, but I knew +nothing about the money until the shortage was discovered." There was +a pause, and then Garrod went on in his level, toneless voice, "I never +accused him of taking it. I was the only one who stood up for him. +You can ask anybody who worked in the bank." + +A note of bitter laughter escaped from Jack. + +Sir Bryson frowned. "He says," he went on, "that you wrote a statement +this morning confessing that you took the money." + +There was a longer pause before Garrod spoke. "Before or after the +accident of the boat?" he asked. + +Sir Bryson looked at Jack. + +"Before," said Jack indifferently. + +"It is not true," said Garrod. "I remember everything that happened up +to that time." + +Sir Bryson appealed to the company at large. "Surely we have heard +enough," he said. "We have laid bare an impudent attempt on the part +of this young man to fasten his crime on one whom he thought incapable +of defending himself." He looked at Jack with the most terrible air he +could muster. "Have you anything to say for yourself now?" he barked. + +Jack screwed down the clamps of his self-control. "No," he said. + +"Take Mr. Garrod back to your tent, then, Jean Paul," Sir Bryson said +graciously. "Tend him well, and we will all be grateful." + +Before any move was made the company was electrified by a new voice: +"May I speak if you please, Sir Bryson?" They turned to see Mary +Cranston standing within the door, resolute in her confusion. + +Linda half rose with an exclamation. At the touch of Kate's hand she +sank back, twisting her handkerchief into a rag, her lips trembling, +her pained eyes darting from Mary's face to Jack's and back again. + +Sir Bryson sneered. "Eavesdropping?" he said. + +"I was listening," said Mary firmly. "It is good that I was. You are +all blind!" + +"Indeed!" said Sir Bryson jocularly, looking all around to share the +joke. "Is it possible?" + +Nobody laughed, however. Mary was not put out by his sneers. She +pointed at Garrod. "He doesn't know what he's saying," she said. "His +lips are speaking at the command of another mind! It is hypnotism! If +you don't believe, look at him!" + +The seven faces turned toward Garrod with a simultaneous start. Jean +Paul's astonishment was admirably done. + +"See by his eyes, his voice, the whole look of him!" Mary went on. "He +doesn't even hear what I am saying now!" + +None of those who looked could help but be struck by Garrod's +extraordinary apathy. He sat, as he had continued to sit since he came +in, looking before him with eyes devoid of all expression. + +"Garrod!" said Sir Bryson sharply. + +After the usual pause Garrod replied like an automaton without moving +his eyes: "Yes, Sir Bryson?" + +The governor was very much shaken. "Well, well," he stammered. "If +it's hypnotism, who's doing it?" + +Mary looked squarely at the man she accused. "Ask Jean Paul Ascota, +the wonder-worker, the conjurer, the medicine man!" + +Jean Paul started, and looked at her with a deprecating smile. From +her he looked at Sir Bryson with the hint of a shrug, as much as to ask +him to excuse her for what she was saying. It was almost too well +done. Mary's eyes clung to him steadily, and any one who looked hard +enough could have seen uneasiness behind the man's smiling mask. Sir +Bryson, however, wished to be deceived. + +He puffed and blew. "Preposterous!" he cried, casting his eyes around +the little circle for support. + +"Send Jean Paul away out of sight and hearing, and we will see if I am +right," said Mary. + +"I'll do no such thing," said Sir Bryson irritably. "We all know what +your interest is in this case, my young lady. You are one of the +beneficiaries of this young rascal's generosity!" + +Jack suddenly came to life. He turned red, and leaned threateningly +over Sir Bryson's table. "Sir Bryson----" he began with glittering +eyes. + +"Stop!" cried Mary in a voice that silenced Jack's own. "It is nothing +to me what he thinks of me. I only want to see the truth come out!" + +Only Kate Worsley's restraining arm kept Linda from jumping up. She +was trembling all over. + +"If there is any justice here you can't refuse to do what I ask," Mary +continued, with her eyes fixed on Sir Bryson. It appeared that the +quiet eyes could flash at need. + +The little governor desired strongly to refuse. He pished, and +pshawed, and fussed with his watch-chain, avoiding the disconcerting +eyes. But the others in the tent were dead against him. They were of +Anglo-Saxon stock, and an appeal to justice had been made. Sir Bryson +could not support the silent opposition of his whole party. + +"Very well, I suppose we must go through with the farce," he said +pettishly. "Jean Paul, will you oblige me by stepping outside for a +moment?" + +"He must go as far away as the river bank," said Mary. "And some one +must go with him." + +"I'll go," said Vassall. + +The two men went out. + +"Now ask him questions," said Mary. + +Garrod's eyes looked after Jean Paul uneasily. He half rose as if to +follow. There was something inhuman in his aspect. Baldwin Ferrie +laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. All their hearts were beating +fast as they watched and listened. + +"Garrod, can--can you remember what happened this morning?" stammered +Sir Bryson. + +"I want to go," muttered Garrod. + +"Frank, don't you know me?" asked Jack. + +No reply. + +"Frank, didn't you tell me you took the money?" Jack persisted. + +Garrod's fingers pulled at his hanging lip, and the vacant eyes +remained turned toward the door. + +"Garrod, can't you hear me?" demanded Sir Bryson sharply. + +"I must go," muttered Garrod. + +It was a painful exhibition. The beholders were a little sickened, and +none of them wished to prolong it. Baldwin Ferrie went to the opening +to call Vassall and Jean Paul back. + +"Are you satisfied?" asked Mary of Sir Bryson. + +"Satisfied of nothing!" he snapped. "The man is out of his wits. I +knew that before. We are just where we started!" + +Mary's cheeks reddened with generous indignation. "Not quite," she +said quickly. "You were going to believe what he said before. I have +shown you that he was irresponsible then as well as now. Let me take +care of him," she pleaded. "Perhaps I can nurse him back to his +senses." + +"Thank you," said Sir Bryson with a disagreeable smile, "but I will see +that Mr. Garrod has _disinterested_ care." + +Mary's eyes widened with alarm. "Not Jean Paul! After what I have +shown you!" + +Jean Paul had come in, and was bending solicitously over Garrod. + +Sir Bryson glanced at them. "You have shown me nothing to his +discredit," he said. + +"You won't see anything but what you wish to see!" cried Mary +indignantly. "Is this your justice, your disinterestedness?" + +Sir Bryson lost his temper. "That will do!" he snapped rapping on the +table. "I am the master here and I will do as I see fit. The truth is +clear to all reasonable people," he went on, his eyes travelling around +the circle again. "Of course I understand that to you and your +lover----" + +He got no further. Linda sprang up like a released bowstring. "It's a +lie!" she cried, her small white face working with passion. + +"Linda! Linda!" implored Mrs. Worsley, following her aghast. + +Linda thrust her away with a strength more than her own. "Let me +alone!" she cried. "I won't be quiet any longer! I can't stand it!" +She ran across the grass, and clung to Jack's arm, facing Mary. Gone +were all the pretty affectations and refinements; this was the +primitive woman. "He's not hers!" she cried hysterically. "He's mine! +He's mine! She's trying to take him from me by making believe to +defend him. I can defend him as well as she can. I don't believe he's +guilty either. I don't care if he is or not. I love him, and he loves +me!" + +[Illustration: "He's not hers!" she cried hysterically.] + +A dreadful silence in the tent succeeded this outburst, broken only by +Linda's tempestuous sobs. She hid her face on Jack's shoulder. His +arm was around her; a man could do no less. Vassall and Ferrie turned +away their heads, shamed and sick at heart to see the lady of their +dreams so abase herself. Mrs. Worsley sank back in her chair, and +covered her face with her hands. + +Mary Cranston, just now all alive, and warm and eager, turned to ice +where she stood. Jack was fiery red and scowling like a pirate. For a +second his eyes sought Mary's imploringly. Seeing no hope there, he +stiffened his back, and drew on the old scornful, stubborn mask, +letting them think what they chose. If he had had a moustache he would +have twirled it in their faces. Sir Bryson was staring at his daughter +clownishly. + +Mary broke the silence. "I am sorry," she said, smoothly and clearly, +"that the young lady has misunderstood my reasons for mixing myself in +this. She need not distress herself any further. Malcolm Piers is +nothing to me, nor I to him. If she still thinks I have any share in +him, I cheerfully give it to her here and now." + +With that she was gone. David Cranston would have been proud of her +exit. Not until after she had gone did any of those present realize +the wonder of it, that as long as she had remained in the tent this +native girl of less than twenty years had dominated them all. + +Sir Bryson's faculties were completely scattered. His eyes were almost +as blank as Garrod's; his hands trembled; his breathing was stertorous. +Whatever his absurdities and weaknesses, at that moment the little man +was an object worthy of compassion. Gradually his voice returned to +him. + +"Linda! How can you shame me so!" he murmured huskily. Then in a +stronger voice: "Leave that man!" He turned to Kate Worsley. "Take +her away." + +The storm of Linda's passion passed with the departure of the other +woman. She was now terrified by what she had done. She allowed +herself to be led away, weeping brokenly. + +Sir Bryson turned to Jack. "As for you, you young blackguard," he said +tremulously, "you needn't expect to profit by this. If she persists in +her infatuation she is no daughter of mine. But I'll save her if I +can." + +Jack's chin stuck out. He said nothing. + +Jean Paul had listened to all this, outwardly shocked, but with the +hint of a smirk playing around the corners of his lips. Fate was +unexpectedly playing into his hands! He now looked at Sir Bryson for +orders, and Sir Bryson, as if in answer, rose and said: + +"Jean Paul, I order you to arrest this man. Secure him, and keep him +under guard until we can reach the nearest police post. Mr. Vassall +and Mr. Ferrie will assist you." + + +The other two men who, up to the moment of Linda's avowal, had been +well enough disposed toward Jack, now turned hard and inimical faces +against him, and hastened to lend Jean Paul their aid. All this while +Garrod sat in his chair staring dully before him. + +Jack's hands clenched, and his eyes shot out cold sparks. "Keep your +hands off me," he said. "All of you!" + +Jean Paul with an air of bravado motioned Vassall and Ferrie back. To +outward appearances he was fully Jack's match. Lacking an inch or two +of his height, he more than made it up in breadth of trunk, and length +of arm. He slowly approached the white man, alert and smiling evilly. +For a moment they measured each other warily, Jean Paul crouching, Jack +upright. Then the half-breed sprang forward. Jack drew off, and his +fist shot out. There was the crack of bone on bone, and Jean Paul +measured his length on the grass. He twisted a few times, and lay +still. + +"Good God!" cried Vassall and Ferrie, falling back. They were not +muscular men. + +"He's not dead," said Jack off-hand. "A bucket of water will bring him +to." + +Jack walked to the door with none to hinder. Holding up the flap, he +faced them. "You needn't think that I'm going to run," he said. "I +don't mean to do anything that would suit you so well. I'm going to +fight for my good name, and my claims, and my girl, and the whole +government of Athabasca can't stop me!" + + + + +XII + +JACK FINDS OUT + +Dinner-time came and went at Camp Trangmar without any one's feeling +much interested except the four Indian lads who ate largely, to the +accompaniment of chatter and laughter by their own fire. It was +nothing to them what high words were passed, and what tears were shed +in the big tent. They were making the most of such a time of plenty as +had never come their way before, and was not likely to be repeated. + +By the cook-fire Humpy Jull exerted himself to tempt his hero's +appetite--not wholly without success, it must be said; for what had +happened could not check the coursing of the blood through Jack's +veins. Twenty-five years old must be fed though the heavens fall. +Gabriel's trumpet had better not be sounded for the young until after +dinner. Jack ate silently and scowlingly. To one of his nature it was +galling when there was so much to be overcome, not to be up and doing, +not to be able to strike a blow. + +Afterward the trees up the trail suffered for his wrath. Having eased +his breast a little, he sat down to find a way out. Here, being a +hewer instead of a thinker, he was at a disadvantage. He was conscious +of an anomaly somewhere. He was in perfect condition; to fill his +chest, and to stretch his muscles afforded him a keen sting of +pleasure, but wind and limb availed him nothing against the subtle +moral complications that beset him. It was one thing to defy the +government of Athabasca in a bold voice, and another thing to find a +vulnerable spot to hit the creature. + +He was sitting with his chin in his palms, considering this, when Kate +Worsley approached him from behind, and spoke his name. He sprang up, +scowling. Linda was waiting a little way off. "Good heavens!" he +thought. "Another scene to go through with!" + +Mrs. Worsley was always simple in manner, and direct of speech. +"Jack," she said at once, "Linda has told me everything that has +happened between you, and I do not blame you as much as I did at first." + +"Thanks," he said, looking away, and speaking gruffly as he was obliged +to do when he was moved. "I value your good opinion, Mrs. Worsley. I +don't think of you like the others." + +"I am taking you into my confidence," she went on. "I am in a +difficult position. Linda is terribly distressed by what has happened. +She begged so to be allowed to see you for a moment, that I was afraid +if I refused--well, I have brought her on my own responsibility. You +will not say anything to her to make me sorry I brought her, will you?" + +"You needn't be afraid," said Jack. "Nor Sir Bryson. I can't say it +properly, but I shall not have anything to do with her until I can come +out in the open." + +"I knew you felt that way," she said quietly. "Of course it's no use +telling Sir Bryson in his present state of mind." + +"He hates me," said Jack frowning. "His kind always does. He won't +give me a chance, and I say things that only make matters worse." He +rubbed his furrowed forehead with his knuckle. "It's a rotten, +mixed-up mess, isn't it?" he said with an appealing look. + +Her eyes softened. His strength and his weakness appealed alike to the +woman in her. Her hand went out impulsively. "You boy!" she said. +"It's no wonder!" + +Jack, wondering what was no wonder, grabbed her hand, and pressed it +until she winced. + +"If I can help you, come to me," she said. + +"Thanks, anyway," he said. "But nobody can, I suspect." + +"Now talk to Linda," she said. "Be gentle with her." + +Jack frowned. "I told her not to say anything," he began. + +"I know, I know," she said cajolingly. "But you are strong; be +merciful with her weakness. Make allowances for women's nerves and +emotions. It was a terrible scene on us all; most of all on her. She +was foolish; but there was a kind of bravery, too, in avowing you +before them all. Think of that!" + +"If she only had your sense," said Jack. + +Kate smiled and turned away. "What do you expect?" she said over her +shoulder. "I'm thirty-eight years old, and I was always plain! +Linda!" she called. "Three minutes only, remember." She walked away. + +Linda came running, and cast herself in Jack's arms, weeping, +protesting, scarcely coherent. "Oh, Jack! I had to see you! I was +terrified, thinking of your anger! That woman enrages me so! I can't +think! What did you give her a mining-claim for? If you'd only love +me more, I wouldn't be so jealous of her. I didn't mean to injure you! +You know I'd never do that! Don't be angry with me. I've disgraced +myself forever with them, and if you go back on me too, what will I do?" + +What was he to do with the helpless, contrite little thing but comfort +her? His arms closed around her. "Who says I'm going back on you?" he +muttered gruffly. + +"It's no more than I deserve after disobeying you," she went on. "I +was such a fool! I'm so sorry! Say you forgive me, Jack. I'll do +better after this!" + +"I can't forgive you right away," he said with his awkward honesty. +"But I'm not going back on anything. Don't distress yourself like +this. Everything will come right." + +"But love me a little," she begged, lifting her tear-stained face. + +He put her away not ungently. "We mustn't," he said. + +"Why?" she asked, gripping his arm. + +"I promised Mrs. Worsley." + +"What did you promise?" + +"Oh, you know," he said uncomfortably. "Don't you see that if there is +any--well, love-making between us, it makes me out a villain to them?" + +"No, I don't see it," she said. "Not if I make you." + +Jack began to sense that father and daughter had an exasperating trait +in common, the inability to see a thing they did not wish to see. "I +should be blamed, anyway," he said. + +"But I'll tell everybody the truth," she said. "I'm not ashamed of +you. They shall see that I have chosen you of my own free will." + +"You have done harm enough," said Jack grimly. "Better not say +anything more." + +"I don't care," she whimpered. "I've got to love you." + +Jack's face became hard. "I do care," he said. "Understand, we have +got to cut all this out. No one, not even a woman, can make me do what +I don't choose to do." + +"Jack, don't speak to me like that," she murmured terrified. + +"You brought it on yourself," he said miserably. "You always seem to +make me stubborn and hateful." + +"But you do love me?" she said desperately. + +He inwardly groaned. "I'm not going back on anything," he said lamely. + +"That's not enough," she said, beginning to tremble again. "It would +kill me if you didn't. They'll never have anything to do with me +again. I have no one but you. You must love me. You do love me, +don't you?" + +"Of course I love you," he said with a strange sinking of the heart. + +"Then I'll do whatever you tell me," she said submissively. + +"No more talks off by ourselves," said Jack. "And around camp you must +treat me exactly the same as the other men." + +"But if you shouldn't succeed in proving----" she began. + +"I will," said Jack. + +"Time's up, Linda," said Kate, coming back. + +Linda kissed him in spite of himself, and hurried away. Jack breathed +a sigh of relief, and took up his axe again. + +At the top of the bench a few hundred yards from where Jack was +working, the trail from over the portage divided. One branch came down +to Camp Trangmar and the river; the other turned west along the edge of +the bench, and became the Fort Erskine trail. A mile or two up the +valley the latter was joined by the trail that led directly west from +Camp Trangmar. + +As Jack stood breathing himself after a spell of chopping, he became +aware of the sound of horses' footfalls coming along the Fort Erskine +trail. There was no sound of a bell. Struck by this fact, he bent his +head to listen attentively. It is exceptional for the horses to stray +away from the one of their number who is belled. Moreover, to Jack's +experienced ears, these had the sound of laden horses. He could not +guess who it might be, but Indians or whites, they would hardly ride so +near to Camp Trangmar without coming in, unless they had a reason to +avoid observation. He therefore dropped his axe, and ran up the hill +to intercept whoever was coming, and make them account for themselves. + +At the forks of the trail to his astonishment he came face to face with +Mary and Davy mounted, and leading their two pack-horses. The bell of +the leading horse had been silenced with a wisp of grass. At the sight +of Jack they pulled up in obvious embarrassment. Jack's heart went +down like a stone in deep water. + +"You're pulling out?" he faltered. + +"What else was there for us to do?" said Mary coldly. + +"Without telling me?" cried Jack reproachfully. + +"_I_ didn't want to," put in Davy eagerly. "Mary said we had to." + +Pride, indignation, and exquisite discomfort struggled in Mary's face. +"It seemed easier," she said. "I'm sorry we met you. There's nothing +to say!" + +"But Mary--Mary!" urged Jack, scarcely knowing what he said, but filled +with his need of her. "Not like this! Wait until to-morrow. Who +knows what may happen to-morrow!" + +"What can happen?" said Mary. "More humiliating scenes?" + +Jack caught her bridle rein. "I swear to you," he said, "if Sir Bryson +or any of the men----" + +"I'm not thinking of them," Mary interrupted. "You can't stop her +tongue. You've given her the right to speak that way." + +Jack hung his head. Like a man under the circumstances he muttered: +"You're pretty hard on a fellow." + +"Hard?" cried Mary sharply. "What do you think I----" She checked +herself with an odd smile. + +Jack was determined to be aggrieved. "It's unfriendly," he burst out; +"stealing out of camp by a roundabout way like this and even muffling +your bell." + +"That's what I said!" put in Davy. + +Mary flashed a hurt look at Davy that forgave him while she accused. +That he should take sides against her at such a moment--but of course +he was only a child. She was silent. Swallowing the lump in her +throat, she looked away over the little valley and the river for +support. All three of them looked at the lovely scene below them, +softened and silvered in the creeping twilight, each wondering +miserably what had happened to the joy of life. + +At last Mary said quietly: "It wasn't easy to decide what to do. I +have to think of myself. I have to think of father, what he would +like. There is nothing else. I am sorry. You and I cannot be +friends. We might as well make up our minds to it." + +"Why can't we be?" demanded Jack. + +"Because you have chosen a girl that will not allow you to have another +woman for a friend," she said. + +This was unanswerable. Jack could only hang his head again. + +"I will not be friends with you secretly," Mary went on. "Nor can I +lay myself open to her abuse. So we must not see each other any more." + +"I need you!" Jack blurted out. His pride was hauled down. It was the +first appeal for help that had passed his lips. + +"I--I'm sorry," she faltered, but without relenting. "Watch Jean Paul +well," she went on. "He can't keep the man hypnotized always. Get +Garrod away from him if you can." + +Jack scarcely heard. "I'm under arrest," he said. "You're leaving me +without a friend in camp." + +"You have her," said Mary softly, with an indescribable look; +compassion, reproach or disdain--or all three. + +"Mary!" he burst out. + +She jerked her bridle rein out of his hand, and clapped heels to her +horse's ribs. "This does no good," she muttered. "And it hurts! +Come, Davy." She loped out of sight among the trees. + +Davy lingered. Leaning out of the saddle he put his arm around Jack's +shoulders. The boy was near tears. "Jack, what's the matter?" he +begged to know. "I want to stay. I feel so bad about it. I don't +understand. Why can't we be friends like we were before? Mary won't +tell me anything. We think such a heap of you, Jack. The other +girl--she's nothing to you, is she? Mary's worth a dozen of her. +There's nobody like Mary. Why can't you and Mary----" + +This was like a knife turned in Jack's breast. "Get along with you!" +he said harshly. "You don't know what you're talking about." +Disengaging himself from the boy's arm, he clapped the horse's haunch, +and the animal sprang ahead. The pack-horses lumped after. + +When they were out of sight Jack flung himself full length in the grass +with his face in his arms. Now he knew. This pain in his breast was +the thing they called love. Blind fool that he had been, he had +dismissed her with the light term "native girl," and had not seen that +it was a woman in a thousand, the woman his manhood had always been +unconsciously yearning for, generous, true and lovely. She rode away, +dragging his heart after her. He was tied fast. The pain of it was +insupportable. + +"Good God! how did I ever get into it!" he groaned. "What a price to +pay for a kiss in the dark!" + + + + +XIII + +THE RETREAT + +Two days passed at Camp Trangmar. There was little outward evidence of +the several storms that agitated the breasts of the company. The men +left Jack severely alone, and Jack for his own part took care to keep +out of Linda's way. He made it his business to watch Garrod, visiting +him night and day in Jean Paul's tent, careless of the owner. There +was no change in Garrod's condition. Jean Paul sheered off at Jack's +approach like the wary animal he was. Meanwhile Sir Bryson, Baldwin +Ferrie, and the Indians were busy staking out additional claims along +Tetrahedron creek. + +On the third morning the camp was plunged into a fresh agitation. Jack +and Humpy Jull were breakfasting by the cook-fire, Jack looking like a +sulky young Olympian in the morning sunlight, and Humpy naïvely trying +to cheer him up. + +"Gosh!" he said. "If I had your looks and figger I wouldn't care about +nothin'." + +Jack, who disdained the false modesty that disclaims such tributes with +a simper, merely held out his plate for porridge. + +Suddenly Vassall came quickly across the grass. His face was pale and +streaked from the effects of nervous emotion. + +"Sir Bryson wants you," he said to Jack. + +Jack continued to eat leisurely. "What about?" he asked, coolly. +"I've no mind to stand up and be abused again." + +"Garrod is gone," said Vassall. + +Jack's indifference vanished like sleight of hand. He sprang up. +"Gone!" he echoed. + +He headed straight for the big tent, Vassall following, and Humpy Jull +looking after them both with round eyes. + +The inside of the big tent presented evidences of confusion. Breakfast +was spread on the two little tables pushed together, and Linda, Mrs. +Worsley, and Baldwin Ferrie were seated, playing with their food. Sir +Bryson's chair was pushed back, and his napkin lay on the grass. The +little man was agitatedly walking up and down. Jean Paul stood by with +a deferential air. + +This time Linda gave no sign at Jack's entrance except for an access of +self-consciousness. + +"What do you know about this?" Sir Bryson immediately demanded. + +"I know nothing," Jack said. "I have come to find out." + +"Garrod has escaped," said Sir Bryson. + +"Why not?" said Jack bitterly. "He ought to have been secured." + +Jean Paul spoke up. "I get no order to tie him," he said smoothly. +"He all time ver' quiet. I mak' him sleep inside me, and I tie a +buckskin lace from him to me. If he move a little I wake. This +morning when I wake, the lace cut and him gone." + +"Did you let him keep a knife, too?" asked Jack, sneering. + +Jean Paul looked confused. "He got no knife w'en I look on him," he +said. + +"It sounds fishy," said Jack scornfully. + +"Do you mean to imply----" began Sir Bryson. + +"Jean Paul sleeps like a cat," Jack went on. "If so much as a stick +turns in the fire he wakes and looks to see. Follow it out for +yourselves. He can't keep the man hypnotized forever. And once Garrod +comes to his senses, the truth comes out!" + +"These are empty accusations," puffed Sir Bryson. "The poor fellow has +wandered away in his distraction." + +"Or been carried," Jack amended. + +"By whom?" said Sir Bryson. "We're all here." + +"There are Sapi Indians a few miles west," said Jack. "Jean Paul is a +power in the tribe." + +"Excuse me, your excellency," purred Jean Paul, "if I do this, I not +stay be'ind myself me, to get your punishment." + +"Make you mind easy, Jean Paul," said Sir Bryson graciously. "This +fellow attempts to twist everything that happens, to his own advantage. +I commend your ingenuity, young sir," he added sarcastically. + +"We're wasting time!" cried Jack with an impatient gesture. "He's got +to be found! Whatever you choose to think of me, you can safely leave +that in my hands. It means more to me than to any one else. It means +everything to me to find him." + +"Jean Paul says the horses have strayed----" Sir Bryson began. + +"The horses, too?" cried Jack. The half-breed's eyes quailed under the +fiery question that Jack's eyes bent on him. Without another word Jack +turned and ran out of the tent. + + +In half an hour he was back--with a grim face. The occupants of the +big tent were much as he had left them, but Jack sensed from the +increased agitation of their faces, and from Jean Paul's sleekness, +that the half-breed had not failed to improve the interval. + +"It's true," said Jack shortly. "They've been driven off." + +It had a terrifying sound to them. They looked at him with wide eyes. + +"I found their tracks on the Fort Erskine trail," Jack went on. "They +were travelling at a dead run. The tracks were six hours old." + +Sir Bryson stopped his pacing. "Driven off?" he said agitatedly. "Are +you sure? Couldn't they have run off by themselves?" + +"They could," said Jack, "but they didn't. Five of the horses were +hobbled when we turned them out. The hobbles had been removed." + +"Well, well," stammered Sir Bryson, "what are we to do?" + +"Let me take ten days' grub from the store," said Jack. "I'll +undertake to bring Garrod back, and at least some of the horses." + +"You'd follow on foot?" Linda burst out. + +Jack answered to Sir Bryson. "They can't travel fast with their +families and baggage." + +It was not Jack's safety that Sir Bryson was concerned about. +"But--but, leave us here without horses?" he faltered. + +Jack smiled a little. "What good am I to you? I'm under arrest. Jean +Paul has your ear. Why won't he do?" + +Sir Bryson gave no sign of hearing this. "We must return," he said +nervously. "We can't stay here--without horses." + +Jack's heart sank. "What have the horses got to do with it?" he asked. +"You're safe here. You've grub enough for months." + +Sir Bryson looked at the half-breed. "Jean Paul says perhaps it is the +Indians," he said. "He thinks they may have driven off the horses as a +preliminary to attacking us." + +"I not say that, me," put in Jean Paul quickly. "I jus' say best to be +ready." + +"So that's his game," cried Jack scornfully. "He's fooling you! It's +an old redskin trick to drive off the horses to prevent pursuit. But +as to standing up to white men--well, I'm willing to go and take my man +and my horses away from the whole village of them." + +Sir Bryson violently shook his head. Jack saw that the fate of Garrod +had little weight with him. "We are quite defenceless!" he cried. +"And with the women to look after! It is my duty to start back!" + +Jack's lip curled. + +Sir Bryson's voice scaled up shrilly. "How will we ever get back?" he +cried. + +"That's easy," said Jack. "Twelve miles walk over the portage to Fort +Geikie, then by raft down the river. We'll make it in two days." + +"Can we start this morning?" + +Jack flushed. "No!" he cried. "Abandon our outfit! That would be +disgraceful. It would be the joke of the country. I won't be a party +to it! We'll cache the stuff to-day, and you can start to-morrow." + +"Very well," said Sir Bryson nervously. "In the meantime we must keep +a sharp lookout!" + +Before Jack left him he made another appeal to be allowed to go after +Garrod. He might as well have saved his breath. Sir Bryson and those +with him, except perhaps Mrs. Worsley, were in the grip of panic. It +was futile to try to reassure those whose notions of Indians had been +gathered from the Wild West fiction of a preceding generation. + +Jack came out of the tent sore all the way through. Taking them down +to the Fort would cost him five precious days. True, he could get +horses there, and perhaps assistance if he needed it, but the waste of +five days was maddening. + +Jack thought for a moment of defying Sir Bryson, and going anyway. But +he put it from him. Any white man who abandoned a party that he had +bound himself to guide, no matter what the circumstances might be, +would be disgraced forever in the North. It is a situation which +simply does not admit of argument. This sense of guide-responsibility +is strong among white men, because the natives are without it. They +are prone to shuffle off disagreeable burdens on the slightest +provocation. + +Jack set to work with a sullen will. He took out his soreness in hard +work and in making the Indian lads work. Hard and long-continued +exertion was a disagreeable novelty to them; before many hours had +passed they were sullen too. + +An axe party was immediately dispatched into the bush, and by noon +enough stout poplar logs were cut and trimmed and drawn into camp to +make a small shack. By supper-time the walls were raised, and the roof +of poles laid and covered with thick sods. The remaining hours of +daylight were occupied in storing everything they possessed inside. It +was ten o'clock before they knocked off work. Meanwhile Sir Bryson, to +Jack's scornful amusement, had insisted on posting Vassall and Ferrie +as outposts against a surprise. + +Next morning the governor was plunged into a fresh panic by the loss of +the four Indian lads. No one saw them go. They melted out of camp, +one by one, and were seen no more. Jack was not greatly surprised; he +had seen premonitory symptoms the day before. It was additional +evidence to him that the other Indians were still in the neighbourhood, +and he was more than ever chagrined to be obliged to retreat without +even an attempt to recover Garrod. + +Jack kept out of Sir Bryson's way. In spite of themselves, however, +the white men leaned on Jack more and more. Their imaginary redskin +peril strengthened the race feeling, and Jack's energy and +resourcefulness were indispensable to them. They came to him +sheepishly for aid, but they came. + +"What do you make of this desertion?" Vassall asked anxiously. + +"Nothing serious," said Jack. "I don't think Jean Paul has a hand in +it, because it's his game to get us out as quickly as he can. They +probably vamoosed of their own accord. When we lost the horses, they +saw the end of their good times. They've been fed too high. It makes +'em beany, like horses." + +"But what'll we do without them?" Vassall asked. + +Jack guessed that the question came from Sir Bryson. + +"Tell the old gentleman to keep his shirt on," he said. "They're no +great loss. It means that we'll all have to carry a little more across +the portage, that's all." + +After breakfast the tents were taken down and stored with the last of +the camp impedimenta in the cache. When everything had been put +inside, the door was fastened with a hasp and staple removed from one +of the boxes, and Jack pocketed the key. The loads were then +apportioned and packed, a long job when six of the eight were totally +inexperienced. Sir Bryson was still looking over his shoulder +apprehensively. At eleven o'clock they finally set out. + +It was a quaintly assorted little procession that wound in single file +along the firmly beaten brown trail through the willow scrub and among +the white-stemmed poplars. There was a lieutenant-governor carrying a +pack, and striving ineffectually to maintain his dignity under it; and +there was his daughter likewise with a blanket strapped on her +shoulders, and an olive-wood jewel-case in her hand, with a gold clasp. +Jack smiled a little grimly at the idea of a jewel-case being toted +through the bush. + +Everybody carried a pack conformable to his strength. Since the two +women and Sir Bryson could take so little, the others were fairly well +laden. Jean Paul at the head, and Jack bringing up the rear, toted the +lion's share. Besides blankets, the outfit consisted of food +sufficient for five days, cooking and eating utensils, guns, +ammunition, and axes. Jack had a coil of light rope to aid in building +his raft. + +Jack put Vassall next behind Jean Paul, with a word in his ear to watch +the half-breed. Jack felt, somehow, that no serious harm was likely to +befall Garrod so long as he had Jean Paul safely under his eye. After +Vassall the others strung along the trail, with Humpy Jull, the oddest +figure of all, marching in front of Jack, looking like an animated +tinware shop with his pots and pans hanging all over him. + +They started in good enough spirits, for the sun was shining, and the +packs felt of no weight at all. But on the little hills their legs +inexplicably caved in; their breath failed them, and the burdens +suddenly increased enormously in weight. It was a long time since hard +labour had caused Sir Bryson to perspire, and the novel sensation +afforded him both discomfort and indignation. Two miles an hour was +the best they could do, counting in frequent pauses for rest. The +twelve miles stretched out into an all-day affair. + +Once, toward the end of the afternoon, they came to the bank of a small +stream, and throwing off their burdens, cast themselves down in the +grass beside it, all alike and equal in their weariness. Sir Bryson +was no longer a knight and a governor, but only the smallest man of the +party, rather pathetic in his fatigue. They were too tired to talk; +only Jack moved about restlessly. The slowness of the pace had tired +him more than the seventy-five pounds he carried. + +As Jack passed near Kate and Linda the latter said petulantly: "I'm +tired, Jack. I want to talk to you." + +Jack's heart sank, but nothing of it showed in his face. The little +thing's look of appeal always reproached him. To a man of his type +there is something shameful and wrong in not being able to give a woman +more than she looks for. "Lord! it's not her fault," he would tell +himself; and "As long as I'm going through with it, I must make a good +job of it!" So he plumped down beside her. + +"Go as far as you like," he said with a kind of hang-dog facetiousness. +"Everybody can see, and Mrs. Worsley is standing guard." + +"But I'm tired," she repeated. "I want to put my head on your +shoulder." She looked at the spot she had chosen. + +Jack became restive. "Easy there," he said uncomfortably. "You're +forgetting the compact!" + +Linda's eyes slowly filled with tears. "Hang the compact," she said. +"I'm tired." + +"I'll carry your blanket the rest of the way," Jack said gruffly. + +"I won't let you," she said. "You've got a perfectly enormous load +already." + +"Pshaw! that featherweight won't make any difference," he said, and +tied it to his pack. + +"My feet hurt me," wailed Linda. + +Jack frowned at the elegant little affairs Linda called her "sensible" +shoes. "No wonder," he said. "Trying to hit the trail on stilts. Put +out your foot." + +His axe lay near. Firmly grasping her ankle, with a single stroke he +guillotined the greater part of the elevating heel. Linda and Kate +both screamed a little at the suddenness of the action, and Linda +looked down horrified, as if she expected to see the blood gush forth. +Jack laughed, and performed a like operation on the other foot. For +the next hundred yards she swore she could not walk at all, but the +benefit of the amputation gradually became apparent. + +Never was such a long twelve miles. Finally, when most of them had +given up hope of ever making an end to this journey, they debouched on +the grassy esplanade surrounding the shacks of Fort Geikie. Humpy Jull +set about getting dinner, while Jack and Jean Paul cut poplar saplings +and constructed a leafy shelter for Linda and Kate. The business of +camp had to be carried on; no one seeing these people travelling, and +eating together, and sleeping around the same fire, could have guessed +how their hearts were divided. + +They were ready for sleep immediately after eating. Linda and Kate +disappeared, and the men rolled up in their blankets, Sir Bryson +grumbling. He felt that another little shelter should have been made +for him. He found it very trying to be obliged to snore in public +among his servants. + +Sir Bryson insisted that a watch be maintained throughout the night, +and Jack, who would have laughed at any other time, fell in with the +idea, because he had a notion that Jean Paul might try to slip away. +Jack arranged therefore that the half-breed keep the first watch, and, +at no little pain and difficulty, he remained awake himself to watch +Jean Paul. At eleven Jean Paul wakened Humpy Jull; at one, Vassall +took Humpy's place. + +Jack had left instructions that he was to be roused at three. It was +already broad day at this hour. Upon Vassall's touch he staggered to +his feet under the burden of sleep and walked blindly up and down until +he had shaken it off. He went to the edge of the bank to take a +prospect, Vassall at his elbow. A better understanding was coming +about between these two. Vassall made no pretence that he had forgiven +Jack for burglarizing Linda's affections, as he thought, but granting +that, he, Vassall, was doing all he could do to bear his share of their +common burden. + +A lovely panorama of river, islands, and hills lay before them in the +cool, pure, morning light. + +"I'm going to cross to the island," Jack said, pointing. "In the +drift-pile on the bar there, there's dry wood enough for a dozen rafts." + +"How will you get over there?" asked Vassall. + +"Swim," said Jack. + +"I'll go along, too." + +Jack stared at the slender, pale young city man. "You!" he said with a +not very flattering intonation. + +"Hang it, I'm not going to let you do everything," Vassall said, +frowning. "I can swim. It's one of the few things I can do that is +useful up here." + +"It's not so much of a swim," said Jack. "The current carries us. +I'll tow the axe on a stick or two. But the water's like ice." + +"I can stand if it you can," Vassall said doggedly. + +Jack looked at him with a gleam of approval. "Come on and feed then," +he said off-hand. + +They wakened Baldwin Ferrie to stand the last watch, and sat down to +the cold victuals Humpy had left for them. In front of them the other +men still slept, an odd sight, the three of them rolled up like corpses +in a row in the morning light: lieutenant-governor, half-breed, and +cook, as much alike as three trussed chickens. + +While Jack ate, he issued his instructions to Ferrie: "Wake Humpy at +five, and tell him to get a move on with breakfast. As soon as Vassall +and I knock the raft together, we'll cross back to this side, but the +current will carry us down about a third of a mile. When the rest of +you have finished eating, pack up and come down to the shore. You'll +have to walk along the stones to the first big point on this side. +Bald Point, they call it, because of the trees being burned off. Lose +no time, because we must be started by eight, if we mean to make Fort +Cheever by dark." + +Jack and Vassall, clad only in shirt, trousers, and moccasins, +scrambled down the steep bank to the water's edge. Vassall looked at +the swirling green flood with a shiver. + +"Tie your moccasins around your neck," Jack said. "Leave your other +things on. They'll soon dry as we work around. Head straight out into +midstream, and you'll find the current will ground you on the point of +the bar below." + +The water gripped them with icy fingers that squeezed all the breath +out of their lungs. Vassall set his teeth hard, and struck out after +Jack. They were both livid and numb when they finally landed, and Jack +forced Vassall to run up and down the bar with him, until the blood +began to stir in their veins again. Then they attacked the tangled +pile of drift logs. + +Eight bleached trunks as heavy as they could pry loose and roll down to +the water's edge provided the displacement of the raft. Jack chopped +them to an equal length, and laced them together with his rope. On +these they laid several cross-pieces, and on the cross-pieces, in turn, +a floor of light poles, the whole stoutly lashed together. The outfit +was completed by two roughly hewn sweeps and a pair of clumsy trestles +in which to swing them. They were greatly handicapped by the lack of +an auger and of hammer and nails, and the result of their labour was +more able than shipshape. Four strenuous hours went to the making of +it. + +"She'll hold," said Jack at last, "if we don't hit anything." + +They pushed off, and each wielding a sweep, pulled her back toward the +shore they had started from. They both watched her narrowly, not a +little proud of their handiwork. At least she floated high and dry, +and answered, though sluggishly, to the sweeps. Their common feeling +made Jack and Vassall quite friendly for the moment. + +The little group was already waiting for them on the stones, with the +slender baggage. Apprehension is quicker than the physical senses. +Before he could see what was the matter, Jack sensed that something had +happened, and a sharp anxiety attacked him. As he and Vassall drew +near the shore he scanned the waiting group closely; he counted them, +and then it became clear! There were only five waiting instead of six! + +"Where's Jean Paul?" he cried out. + +The people on the shore looked at each other uncomfortably. There was +no answer until the raft grounded on the stones. Then Sir Bryson drew +himself up and puffed out his cheeks. + +"He asked my permission to remain to search for poor Garrod," he said +in his most hoity-toity manner. "And I thought best to accede to his +request." + +Jack's jaw dropped. For an instant he could not believe his ears. +Then he slowly turned white and hard. So this was what he got for +spending his strength in their service! This was what he had to deal +with: folly and self-sufficiency that passed belief! He was angrier +than he had ever been in his life before. He was much too angry to +speak. He stepped ashore, and walked away from them, struggling with +himself. + +Sir Bryson strutted and puffed and blew for the benefit of all +observers. His secret dismay was none the less apparent. None looked +at him. They were gazing fearfully at Jack's ominous back. + +He came back with a set, white face. "Sir Bryson," he said in a voice +vibrating with quiet, harsh scorn, "I say nothing about myself. Apart +from that I've shown you clearly, and these people are witnesses to it, +that this half-breed means Garrod no good. So be it. If he does for +him now, it will be on your head." + +In spite of his bluster, Sir Bryson began to look like a frightened +small boy. + +Linda was weeping with anger and fright. "I told him," she said, "but +he wouldn't listen to me." + +Kate, fearful of another outburst, laid a restraining hand on her. + +"Here's your raft," Jack went on harshly. "All you have to do is to +sit on it and keep it in the middle of the river and you'll be at Fort +Cheever before dark. After letting the breed go, the least you can do +is to let me stay and watch him." + +They all cried out against this, even Kate and Vassall, whom Jack +thought he could count on a little. They all spoke at once in confused +tones of remonstrance and alarm. "What would we do without you? We +don't know the river. We can't handle a raft," and so on. + +Above all the others Sir Bryson's voice was heard trembling with alarm +and anger: "Would you desert us here?" + +The word brought the blood surging back into Jack's face. "Desert +nothing," he said. "I asked your permission. I do not desert. Get +aboard everybody, and hand on the bundles!" + +They scrambled at his tone, a good deal like sheep. Jack launched the +raft with a great heave of his back, running out into the water, thigh +deep. Clambering on board, he picked up a sweep, and brought her +around in the current. Sir Bryson and the others stole disconcerted +sides glances at his hard and bitter face. There is something very +intimidating in the spectacle of a righteous anger pent in a strong +breast. The spectator is inclined to duck his head, and wonder where +the bolt will fall. + + + + +XIV + +BEAR'S FLESH AND BERRIES + +Jack propelled the raft into the middle of the current, and, taking the +sweep aboard, sat down on the end of it with his back to the others, +and nursed his anger. They sat or lay on the poles in various uneasy +positions. Sir Bryson, who, until the the day before, had probably not +been obliged to sit in man's originally intended sitting position for +upward of thirty years, felt the indignity keenly. + +Every one's nerves were more or less stretched out of tune. Linda, +watching Jack's uncompromising back with apprehensive eyes, was +exasperated past bearing by her father's fretful complaints. + +"What do you want?" she burst out. "A padded chair? Don't be +ridiculous, father!" + +Sir Bryson swelled and snorted. "That is no way to speak to your +father, Belinda. Because you see me robbed of my outward and visible +dignity is no reason for your forgetting the respect you owe me. I am +surprised at you." + +Linda's muttered reply was forcible and inelegant. None of the others +paid any attention. Sir Bryson, feeling perhaps that a magisterial air +accorded ill with his tousled hair and his cross-legged position, made +a bid for sympathy instead. + +"My feet are going to sleep," he said plaintively. + +Jack, overhearing, was reminded again of the resemblance between father +and daughter. "You don't have to sit still," he said, speaking over +his shoulder. "You can move about as long as you don't all get on the +same side at the same time." + +Sir Bryson, who would not have been robbed of his grievance for any +consideration, continued to sit and suffer dramatically. + +Vassall's head was heavy. Stretching himself out, and watching Linda +wistfully, he finally fell asleep. Humpy Jull, up at the bow--if a +raft may be said to have a bow--constructed a fishing line out of a +bent pin and a moccasin lace, and baiting it with a morsel of bacon, +fished for hours with the trusting confidence of a child. Discouraged +at last, he fell asleep beside Vassall. + +Thus the morning passed. Left to its own devices, the raft swung +around and back in the eddying current, and a superb panorama was +ceaselessly and slowly unrolled for any who cared to see. The river +moved down through its vast trough in the prairie, and an ever-changing +vista of high hills, or seeming hills, hemmed them in. On the +southerly side the hills were timbered for the most part. On the +northerly side, where the sun beat all day, the steep slopes were bare, +and the rich grass made vivid velvety effects darkened in the hollows +and touched with gold on the knolls. The whole made a green symphony, +comprising every note in the scale of green from the sombre spruce +boughs up through the milky emerald of the river water to the high +verdancy of the sunny grass and the delicate poplar foliage. + +Of them all only Kate Worsley watched it as if the sight was enough to +repay one for the discomfort of sitting on poles. Her quiet eyes were +lifted to the hills with the look of one storing away something to +remember. + +Now and then a momentary excitement was created by the sight of a bear +grubbing about the roots of the poplar saplings, homely, comical beasts +with their clumsy ways and their expression of pretended cuteness. +Something still wild in the breasts of domesticated creatures like +ourselves never fails to answer to the sight of a real wild thing at +home in his own place. Since they had no time to go ashore in case of +a hit, no shots were fired. + +Once in the middle of the day they landed long enough for Jack to build +a hearth of flat stones on Humpy's end of the raft, and cover it with +clay. Then, gathering a little store of wood, they pushed off again, +and Humpy built his fire, and boiled his kettle while they floated down. + +After lunch Jack's anger was no longer sufficient to keep his neck +stiff. He had been up since three that morning, and in spite of +himself he began to nod. Vassall volunteered to keep watch while he +slept. + +"There's nothing to do as long as she keeps the middle of the stream," +Jack said. "If she drifts to one side or the other wake me." + +He stretched himself out, and in spite of the cobbly nature of his bed, +immediately fell asleep. Linda watched him with the tears threatening +to spring. He had not spoken to her since they started, and indeed had +scarcely seemed to be aware of her. She glanced at the others with +rebellious brows. If it were not for them, she thought, the tawny head +might be pillowed in her lap. + +Another hour dragged out its slow length. Kate Worsley out of pity for +Sir Bryson's increasing peevishness proposed a game of bridge. It was +hailed with alacrity. A sweater was spread for a cloth; Sir Bryson, +Kate, Baldwin Ferrie, and Vassall squatted around it, and the cards +were dealt. + +"Fancy!" exclaimed Vassall, looking around. "Rather different from a +game in the library at Government House, eh?" + +"And different looking players," suggested Kate with a smile. + +"I feel it very keenly, Mrs. Worsley," said Sir Bryson tearfully. "I +have always attached great importance to the little details of one's +personal appearance. Perhaps it is a weakness. But that is the way I +am." + +"We're all in the same boat--I mean raft," said Mrs. Worsley +cheerfully. "Look at me!" + +"I will make it no trumps," said Baldwin Ferrie. + +Linda, seeing the others fully occupied, moved nearer to Jack, and lay +down where, making believe to be asleep herself, she could watch his +face, calm and glowing in sleep, the lashes lying on his cheeks, the +thin nostrils, the firm, red line of his lips. If he had only slept +with his mouth open, or had snored, it might have broken the spell that +held her, and a deal of trouble been saved. Unfortunately he slept +beautifully; and if that was not enough, once he smiled vaguely like a +sleeping baby, and changed his position a little with a sigh of +content. The sight of her strong man in his helplessness affected the +girl powerfully; when he moved, her heart set up a great beating, and +the alarmed blood tingled to her finger-tips. + +During this time but an indifferent watch was kept. Humpy Jull had +fallen asleep again. There seemed little need to watch on such a +voyage. True, they had passed little reefs and stretches of broken +water where the swift current met obstructions inshore, but there had +been no disturbance that extended out into midstream. The raft was +carried down squarely in the middle of the channel. + +Once when it came to Vassall's turn to be dummy, he stood up to stretch +his legs and look about him. A short distance ahead he saw that the +invariably earthy slope of the hills was broken by an outcropping of +rock on either side. The band of rock evidently crossed the river, for +in the middle a ragged islet of rock stuck its head out of the water. + +Vassall debated on which side of the rock they ought to pass with the +raft. To a riverman the "middle of the stream" means the main sweep of +the current of course. Vassall was not a riverman and he did not +observe that the greater body of water made off to the left and around +that side of the island. The channel on the right-hand side stretched +straight ahead of them, wide and apparently smooth, and to Vassall this +looked like the "middle of the stream." If he had left the raft alone +the current of its own accord would have carried it around to the left, +but he ran out a sweep and pulled her to the other side. He saw no +occasion for waking Jack. + +A new hand was dealt and he returned to the game. It was a critical +hand, and the attention of all four of the players was closely fixed on +the cards until the last trick was taken. Not until then did they +become aware of the grumble of broken water ahead. They had heard the +sound before on the reefs they had passed. Vassall, looking up, saw +only a kind of smudge like a thumb-mark drawn across the smooth face of +the river ahead. The next time he looked he saw darkish spots here and +there between the island and the shore. + +The noise became louder. Finally he got up, and in the act of rising +the ominous white leaped into his view. It was a reef extending all +the way across. The dark spots were rocks covered by an inch or two of +water. + +For an instant Vassall looked at it stupidly. The others were +arranging their cards in ignorance of any danger. Before Vassall could +wake Jack, the hoarse roar of the reef reached the subconsciousness of +the sleeping man, and he sprang up, all standing. A glance told him +everything. + +"What are we doing on this side?" he cried. + +He ran out one sweep, and motioned Vassall to the other. They pulled +with a will. The others watched, not fully understanding the nature of +the danger yet, but alarmed by Jack's grimness. He was heading the +raft for the main channel. They had not reached the island yet, but +Jack soon saw that at the rate they were being carried down he could +not make the other side, nor could he land his clumsy craft on the +shore above the reef. + +"Save your strength," he said to Vassall. "We'll have to chance it. +Everybody sit still and hold on." + +A breathless few minutes succeeded. Jack steered for the widest space +he could see between the rocks. Those who were sitting down still +could not see much of what was ahead, but the roar of the water was now +sufficiently terrifying. Moving of a piece with the current as they +were, it seemed as if they were not moving, but that the broken rocks +were striding to meet them, not very fast, but inexorably. It was hard +to sit and wait. + +Then as they came close they saw how the water slipped silkily over the +reef with the dark shadows showing like teeth beneath, and boiled up +below. The women cried out sharply, and the men turned pale. It +suddenly became evident how fast the heavy raft was moving. + +"Throw yourselves flat and hang on!" Jack shouted. + +They obeyed. There was a dreadful moment of waiting, while the roar of +the water filled their ears. Then she struck. One side of the raft +slid up on a submerged shelf, the floor tilted at a steep angle, and +the current surged over the lower side, sweeping everything movable +off. Jack stood up to his knees in the torrent, pushing desperately at +the heavy sweep. He budged her inch by inch. + +"Lie still!" he shouted. "For your lives! We'll make it yet!" + +But panic seized upon his passengers. Somebody scrambled for the high +side of the raft, and the rest followed. The strain was too great for +the lashings. A rope parted somewhere, and the floor instantly heaved +up beneath them. There was a brief, wild confusion of thrashing, +tangled logs and feeble human bodies. Then the whole thing, logs, +bodies, baggage, and playing cards was swept over into the deep, rough +water below. + +When Jack came to the surface he had a confused impression of bobbing +heads and logs on every side. He seized the nearest log, and +unstrapping the cartridge belt and the gun that were drowning him, +buckled it on. Meanwhile, he was looking for the long hair of the +women. He reached one of them in six strokes. A pair of clutching +arms reached for him, but he dived, and seizing her by the collar, +towed her to the nearest log. It was Linda. + +Leaving her supported, he trod water looking for Kate. He saw more +streaming hair not far away, and reached the spot as she rose again. +There was sterner stuff here; her face was white and wild, but her arms +were under control. She put her hands on Jack's shoulders as he +commanded, and he brought her likewise to a log. A little brown box +came bobbing by, Linda's jewel-case. Kate coolly put out her hand and +secured it. + +All this had taken but a minute. Jack looked about him. Everything +was being carried down of a piece with the current, and they were all +close together. It seemed to Jack as if the whole face of the river +was littered with playing cards. He had a particular impression of the +deuce of clubs. Vassall was helping Baldwin Ferrie to a log, and Humpy +Jull had secured the log that bore Jack's cartridge belt. Only Sir +Bryson was missing. Farther out Jack saw a feeble commotion, and no +log near. + +"See to the women!" he called to Vassall. "There's a backwater +inshore. Humpy, save that belt as you value your life!" + +The struggling figure sank before he reached it. Jack swam about the +spot. It rose again, but out of his reach. He dived for it. They +came together, and a pair of frantic arms closed about Jack's neck. +They sank together, Jack struggling vainly. They rose, Jack got a +breath, and broke the hold. The struggling ceased. + +Swinging the inert figure over his back, Jack struck out for the shore. +It was a desperately hard pull. They had been carried too far to +obtain any advantage from the backwater. The logs he passed were of no +aid to him, because the current tended to carry them into midstream. +For a long time the shore seemed only to recede as he struggled toward +it. More than once fear touched him and he was on the point of going +down. He rested, breathing deep, and set to it again. Finally he +ceased to think or to feel, but he continued to struggle automatically, +and he still clung to his burden. + +It was with a kind of surprise that he finally felt the stones under +his feet. He staggered ashore, and putting down the limp figure he +carried, flung himself on the shore utterly exhausted. How long he lay +there he hardly knew. As soon as a little strength began to stir in +him, with the man-of-the-wilds instinct he set to work collecting +sticks to make a fire. + +He had been carried nearly a mile below the reef. By and by, far up +the shore he saw some wavering, uncertain little figures. He was able +to count five of them, so he knew all were safe. He hailed them +shrilly after the way of the country. After his little fire sprang up, +he could see that they were coming toward him slowly, the men helping +the women. + +They came, a distressed little company, drenching wet, silent and +dazed. They moved like automatons, as if their limbs were independent +of them, and they looked at each other dully, as if not with full +recognition. Reaching Jack, they stood around in an uncertain way; +none of them spoke. It was as if they had lost the faculty of speech +also. Linda was roused by the sight of her father; with a cry, she +cast herself on his body. + +"He's not drowned," Jack said quickly. "Only stunned a little." + +The helplessness of the others had the effect of rousing Jack to an +ardour of activity that transformed him. His gnawing anger was +forgotten; his black looks were flown. Their situation was well-nigh +desperate, but here the opposing forces were purely physical, such as +he thoroughly understood, and loved to attack. His exhaustion passed, +and his eyes became bright. + +"Has anybody dry matches?" he sang out. + +The dazed ones looked a little amazed at his spirits. It appeared that +no one's match-safe was waterproof but Jack's own. + +"Spread 'em out to dry on a rock," he said. "They may work. I have +seventeen good ones. That's enough at a pinch. Everybody scatter for +dry wood. Keep on the move, and get your circulation going. Humpy, +you build another fire behind the willows for the ladies. Light it +from this one. We can have all the fire we want, anyway. Vassall, +help me here with Sir Bryson. We must take his wet things off." He +glanced up at the sun. "Rest for an hour," he said; "then on the +march! Red Willow Creek to-night; Fort Cheever to-morrow afternoon!" + +"But how are we going to support life on the way?" stammered Baldwin +Ferrie. + +Jack pointed to the belt Humpy Jull had brought along. His gun and his +hunting-knife hung from it. This, with Linda's jewel-case, was the sum +total of what they had saved from the wreck. + +"We have the cannon," Jack said with a laugh. "About forty cartridges, +and the seventeen matches. We'll make out." + +An hour later they started to climb the steep, high hill to the +prairie. They took it very slowly on account of Sir Bryson, who was +still white and shaky. But he complained no more. Jack's example had +had its effect on all, and a more cheerful feeling pervaded the party. +They were at least dry and warm again. The men still regarded Jack's +high spirits a little askance. It did not fit their settled +convictions about him; they resented it slightly while forced to admire. + +"Where are we heading for?" Vassall asked. + +"There's a trail down this side of the river as well as on the other," +Jack said. "I've never been over it, but if we strike straight back we +must hit it." + +"How will we get back across the river?" + +"Nothing easier," said Jack. "When we arrive opposite the fort, if +it's daylight, we'll wave a shirt; if it's night, we'll build a fire, +and they'll send a canoe over for us." + +Once having accomplished the difficult hill it was easy enough going +over the prairie. Taking his bearings from the sun, Jack led them in a +line at right angles back from the river. Linda walked beside him. +Vassall and Ferrie helped support Sir Bryson. Half an hour's walking +brought them to a trail, as Jack had promised, and their hearts rose. +It was a less well-beaten track than the main route on the north side +of the river, but easy enough to follow. + +Jack called a halt. "Here we are," he said. "The first good water +that I know of is Red Willow Creek. I've camped on the river at the +mouth of it. It will be about seven miles. Are you good for it?" + +They said they were. No one dreamed of opposing Jack now. They hung +on him like defenceless merchant-men on their man-o'-war convoy. + +"Vassall, you lead the way from here," Jack went on. "You'll find the +creek in a big coulee. We'll camp for the night in the bottom of it. +If by any chance you should lose the trail before you get there, just +climb to the highest place you see, and sit down and wait till I come +along." + +"But where are you going?" they demanded. + +"To hunt for our supper," said Jack. + +He issued two of the precious matches to Humpy to make a fire on +arrival. "There ought to be berries in the coulee," he said. "Collect +all you can." + +Linda clung to him. "Can't I go with you?" she begged. + +He shook his head. "The hunter must hunt alone." + +"Don't be long. Be very careful. If we lost you we'd simply lie down +and die." + +"Easy!" he said uncomfortably. + +Linda glanced at the others. "Why should I hide it now?" she said. +"I'm proud of you. They know now why I chose a man like you, a real +man." + +Jack had the feeling that additional turns of rope were being taken +around his body. He blushed and scowled together. "Linda! for +heaven's sake!" he burst out. Under his breath, "Wait until I pull you +out of this before you begin to talk." He turned and fled. + +A word of sympathy may be dropped here for Vassall and Ferrie. It is +hard to have to stand by while your rival has the opportunity to save +the lives of all and sundry, including your own, just because he is in +his own element and you are out of yours. And then to be publicly +scorned by the girl in the case--for that is what Linda's speech +amounted to. Linda had no mercy for men; that is why, if you look into +it far enough, she was bound to suffer on her own account. It was much +to their credit that the two men took it generously. + +It was four hours before they saw Jack again. They had reached the +rendezvous some time before, and Humpy had built a fire on the shore of +the creek, around which they sat in silence, trying not to look as +hungry as they felt, and trying to conceal the common anxiety that +gnawed at each breast: "What will we do if he doesn't come!" + +But at last his hail came over the hill, and Jack himself came running +and sliding down the grassy slope, covered with feathers it appeared. +They sprang up with glad cries. Never did man receive a more heartfelt +welcome. They were like his hungry children waiting to be fed and +cheered. It is sweet to be so necessary to one's fellow-beings, but +indeed it was a startling transformation. At one bound Jack had risen +in their estimation from a disgraced felon to the saviour and preserver +of them all. Jack felt this, and it was his revenge. + +He kissed Linda--he had to--and flung his burdens down. "Prairie +chicken," he said. "Sorry to keep you waiting so long, but I hated to +come in until I had got one all round, and I couldn't take any chances. +They're too expensive, anyway; a shell apiece and two misses. +To-morrow I'll try to bring in something more substantial." + +Thus they dined off roasted prairie chicken and saskatoon berries, +strictly after Nature's first intention without artificial aids. And +when one wanted a drink he had to scoop it out of the creek in his +hand. It was remarkable how easy all this came to them, even to a +lieutenant-governor when he was hungry and thirsty. + +The night was harder. Jack built a sort of lean-to, or wind-break, of +poplar, with a long fire close across in front. The heat was partly +reflected down by the sloping roof, and in this pleasant oven they lay +in a row on heaped spruce boughs. The men arranged to take turns in +keeping up the fire throughout the night. But the ground was cold, and +there was not much sleep to be had. Jack sat up and told cheerful +yarns of worse nights that he had managed to live through. + +At sun-up he was away again. An hour's patient waiting at the edge of +a berry thicket two miles up the coulee brought him what he sought, a +young black bear. He brought the hams into camp. The women looked +askance at his prizes, and elected to breakfast off berries alone. But +baked in its hide in a pit with hot stones the meat was not to be +despised, and after a few miles on the trail they were all glad to +share it. + +All that day Jack convoyed his little company slowly, with many a rest +beside the trail. They had about twenty miles to cover. Alone, Jack +would have made it in five hours, but he saw that it would be a great +feat for some of the others if they got through at all that day. In +spite of what he could do, in the middle of the afternoon Linda gave +out, and Sir Bryson was on his last legs. The indefatigable Jack then +contrived a litter out of two poplar poles thrust through three +buttoned coats, and Linda and her father took turns in riding the rest +of the way. + +Jack was considerably embarrassed by Sir Bryson's attitude toward him +during this day. The little gentleman, as has been said, was much +chastened. He was quiet; he issued no orders, nor uttered complaints, +and was unaffectedly grateful for whatever was done for him. Here was +a change indeed! Whenever Jack approached him his confusion became +visible and acute. At the same time he often sought Jack out, and +began conversations which petered out to nothing. Manifestly he had +something on his mind that his tongue balked at uttering. + +It came out at last. During one of the rests they were all sitting in +the grass, Jack among the others, busily intent upon cleaning the +precious "cannon" with a sleeve of his shirt that he had sacrificed to +the purpose. Sir Bryson suddenly moved closer to him. + +"Young man," he began, and his lofty tone could not hide the genuine +feeling, "they tell me you saved my life yesterday. I don't remember +much about it myself." + +Jack looked up, alarmed and frowning. "That's all right," he said +hurriedly. "Everybody did what he could." + +"And Linda and Mrs. Worsley too," Sir Bryson went on. "It was very +gallantly done." + +"Vassall would have done it, only I was nearer," Jack said gruffly. +"Please don't say anything more. It makes me feel like a fool!" + +"It must be spoken of," Sir Bryson persisted. "But it's difficult--I +hardly know----" + +Jack did not perceive the exact nature of the old gentleman's +difficulty. He got up. "It was all in the day's work," he said +awkwardly. "You don't need to feel that it changes the situation at +all." + +Sir Bryson rose too. All tousled, creased and bedraggled as he was, +the little governor was never more truly dignified. "You do not +understand me," he said. "I--I am very grateful. Moreover, I am sorry +for things I said. I desire to acknowledge it here before our friends +who were present when I said them." + +Jack looked away in acute embarrassment. "Very handsomely said, Sir +Bryson," he muttered. + +This ended the incident for the present. The air was much cleared by +it. However, it gave rise to something it was necessary for Jack to +unburden himself of. He waited until he could get Sir Bryson away from +the others. + +"Sir Bryson," he said doggedly. "I wanted to tell you that I +understand my being useful to you doesn't clear my name, doesn't make +me any more a desirable suitor for your daughter." + +Sir Bryson made a deprecating gesture. + +"Under the circumstances," Jack continued, "I don't want her any more +than you want me. It is agreed between Miss Linda and I that we are to +have nothing to do with each other until I succeed in clearing myself." + +They shook hands on it. Later Vassall and Baldwin Ferrie took +opportunity to follow in the lead of their master and ask to shake +Jack's hand. For the rest of the day Jack moved in an atmosphere warm +with their gratitude and admiration. It was not unpleasant in itself +of course, but somehow he felt as if everything that happened tended to +tighten little by little the coils in which he found himself. Mile by +mile as they neared the end of the journey, and the obstacles +retreated, his spirits went down. He was elevated into Sir Bryson's +good graces, but not into his own. This was his ingenious difficulty: +that the girl he didn't want was attached as a rider to the good name +he had to have. + +At the day's close he led his bedraggled and dead weary little company +stumbling down the hill to the river bank opposite Fort Cheever. +There, a fire built on the shore, with its mounting pillar of smoke, +soon brought over Davy in a dugout to investigate. Great was the boy's +astonishment at the sight of them. + +Jack burned with a question that he desired to ask him, but he could +not bring his tongue to form Mary's name. His heart began to beat fast +as they approached the other shore. He wondered if he would see her. +He hoped not, he told himself, and all the while desiring it as a +desert traveller longs for water. + + + + +XV + +AN EXPEDITION OF THREE + +Mary was not in evidence around the fort. Jack spent half the night +talking things over with David Cranston in the store. In the sturdy +Scotch trader he found a friend according to his need. He experienced +an abounding relief in unburdening himself to a man who merely smoked +and nodded understandingly, without making any fuss. + +"You don't have to explain to me that you're no thief," Cranston said +coolly. + +That was all to be said on the subject. As to the feminine element in +his difficulties, Jack was necessarily silent. + +"If my sons were a year or two older," Cranston said strongly. "As it +is I am tied here hand and foot!" + +Jack swore at him gratefully. "This is my fight," he said. "I +couldn't let you give up your time to it." + +"I suppose you'll take some of the men out of Sir Bryson's party back +with you," said Cranston. + +Jack shook his head. "Humpy Jull's all right, but he can't ride, and I +have to ride like sin. Vassall's a square head too, in his way, but +either one of them would only weaken me. They don't know the people. +They couldn't face them down. They couldn't walk into their tepees and +tell the beggars to go to hell." + +Cranston smiled grimly. "Is that what you calculate to do?" + +"You know what I mean. It's a way of putting it." + +Cranston considered a moment. "Take Davy," he said. "The boy has +pluck. He would be wild to go." + +Jack was more moved than he cared to show. "Damn decent of you, +Cranston," he growled. "I won't do it," he added aloud. "It's too +much of a responsibility. Jean Paul is clever enough to see that he +could always get at me through the boy." + +"What's the alternative then?" asked Cranston. + +"I'm going it alone," said Jack doggedly. + +Cranston struck the counter with his fist. "No, by Gad!" he cried. +"I'm the boss around here. You know as well as I that it's foolhardy +for a man to ride alone at any time--the police don't do it--let alone +into a village of redskins in an ugly mood. That's tempting them to +murder you. And if they did, how could we convict them?" + +Jack's face hardened. "They wouldn't murder me," he said, "because I'm +not afraid of them." + +"That's all right. It's too big a chance." + +"You'd think nothing of taking it yourself." + +"Never you mind that. I'm the boss here, and I forbid it!" + +"You're not my boss," muttered Jack. + +"Just the same, I can prevent you, my lad," said Cranston grimly. +"You'll get no outfit from me for such a purpose." + +Jack shrugged, and appeared to let the matter go. Cranston might have +taken warning from his tight lips, but the trader thought, as he said, +that he commanded the situation. + +"We'll talk to Sir Bryson in the morning," Cranston went on. + +"Pshaw! Sir Bryson!" muttered Jack. + +"I'll get him to send Vassall down to the Crossing in a canoe with a +letter to the police. I'll send my boy Angus and an Indian along. The +steamboat will be up in a few days, and they can bring back the police +on her. If she leaves the Crossing before they get there, the captain +will turn back for the policemen. With luck they'll all be back in a +week." + +"A week!" thought Jack. "What would I be doing all that time? Biting +my thumbs?" + +By morning Jack had made his plan. He was only prevented from putting +it into instant execution by his great desire to see Mary, though he +would not acknowledge to himself that that was the reason he hung about +the fort all morning. He waited until after the middle of the day, +thinking that Cranston would surely ask him home to dinner, but the +invitation was not forthcoming. Jack did not know it, but the trader +for many years past had been obliged to give up dispensing hospitality +at his own board. Mrs. Cranston seized on such occasions to assert her +most savage and perverse self. + +Meanwhile Jack showed himself assiduously in front of the trader's +windows. The ladies of Sir Bryson's party did not appear all morning +out of the warehouse where they were quartered, so Jack was at least +spared Linda's surveillance. His pertinacity was in vain; Mary never +once showed herself. By afternoon he had worked himself up to a +towering, aggrieved anger. "She might at least have a word of welcome +for a white man," he thought bitterly, choosing to forget her side of +the case, that she had made plain to him. At last he gave up in a +passion, and strode away from the fort. + +Taking care that he was not observed by Cranston, Jack headed for the +Indian village, which lay on the river-flat, a half mile west of the +fort. Reaching it, he sought out the head man, and by degrees brought +the talk around to the subject of horses. Presently a deal was in +progress, and in an hour Jack found himself the owner of two fairish +ponies, with a saddle for one and a pack-saddle for the other. Some of +the Indians had been trading with Cranston, and by going from tepee to +tepee and offering a premium on the company's prices, Jack was able to +collect the grub he required, together with blankets and a Winchester +and ammunition. He paid for all this with an order on Cranston, and +with the order he sent back a note: + + +DEAR CRANSTON: I hope you won't lay this up against me. I feel as if +you are the only friend I have, and I don't want to make you sore, but +I've got to go. If I had to hang around the fort doing nothing for a +week I'd go clean off my nut. You needn't bother your head about me. +I know exactly what I'm going to do, and I'm not going to get murdered +either. I'll bring you back your horses in a few days, also Garrod and +Jean Paul, unless I have to bury them. + +Tell Sir Bryson and his people. + +Remember me to Mary. + +JACK. + + +By nine o'clock he had ridden fifty miles, and he camped then only +because his grass-fed beasts could go no farther. He turned them out, +and ate, and crawled between his blankets by the fire; but not, in +spite of his weariness, to sleep. He found that he had not succeeded +in galloping away from the ache in his breast: "Mary! Mary! Mary!" it +throbbed with every beat. + +Wakefulness was a novel sensation to Jack. Cursing at himself, he +resolutely closed his eyes and counted sheep, but in vain. He got up +and replenished his fire. He lit his pipe, and, walking up and down in +the grass of the prairie, gazed up at the quiet stars for peace. If he +could have inspired his horses with some of his own restlessness he +would have ridden on, but the poor beasts were standing close by with +hanging heads, too weary to eat. + +He did fall asleep at last, of course, only to be immediately wakened, +it seemed to him, by a distant thudding of hoofs on the earth. It is a +significant sound in a solitude, and, sitting up, he listened sharply. +By the movement of the stars he saw that several hours had passed since +he fell asleep. It could not be his own horses, because they were +hobbled. In any case there were more than two approaching. They were +coming from the direction of the fort. Jack, frowning, wondered if +Cranston would go so far as to attempt to prevent him from carrying out +his purpose. With instinctive caution he drew back from his fire and +crouched in the shadow of a clump of willows. + +Four horses came loping up. Jack's two came hobbling toward them out +of the darkness, whinnying a welcome. The fire blazed between Jack and +the new-comers, and he could not see them very well. He sensed that +there were two riders, and as they slipped out of the saddles it +appeared that one of them was skirted. For a moment they stood +outlined against the dim light of the eastern sky, and Jack's heart +began to thump against his ribs. Surely there could be but one such +graceful head poised on such beautiful shoulders, but he couldn't +believe it. Then they approached his fire, and he saw for sure: it was +Mary and Davy. + +She saw his tumbled blanket by the fire, and looked across toward where +he crouched, with the firelight throwing up odd, strong shadows on her +wistful face. "Jack!" she called softly. The voice knocked on his +naked heart. + +His hardihood failed him then. He came slowly toward them, trembling +all over, ashamed of his trembling, and horribly self-conscious. "What +are you doing here?" he asked in a shaky voice. + +"We are going with you," murmured Mary. Her voice, too, was suffocated +as if her heart was filling her throat. + +There was a little pause. Jack looked at her like an unworthy sinner, +who nevertheless sees Heaven opening before him. + +"Aren't you glad to see us?" demanded Davy, coming up. + +Glad! Jack was quite unable to speak. Suddenly flinging an arm around +the boy's shoulders he squeezed him until Davy cried out. It was meant +for Mary. She saw. Dropping to the ground, she made a great business +of building up the fire. + +They fell to babbling foolishly without any one's caring how foolishly; +they laughed for no reason, and asked the same questions over again +without heeding the answers. Jack sprang to unpack and unsaddle their +horses. When they were finally hobbled and turned out, he came back to +Mary. She was setting out the grub-box and making tea. Davy went away +to cut poles for their two little tents. + +"You do wish to be friends?" Jack said pleadingly; "after what you +said!" + +Mary had recovered her self-possession. "I couldn't let you go alone," +she parried. "That is such a foolish thing to do. I couldn't have +slept or sat still for thinking of it. Other things are not changed at +all." + +"But you came!" murmured Jack a little triumphantly, and moving closer +to her. + +She drew away. "You shouldn't say that," she murmured stiffly. "It +wasn't easy for me to come. And it may cost me dear." + +Jack wondered like a man why she was offended. "I know," he said, "and +I'm not going to let you come. But I'm glad you wanted to." + +This made matters worse. "I didn't want to," she threw back at him +sharply. "I came because I was the only one who could help you. I +know the Indians; they like me; they're a little afraid of me. And you +can't make us go back. We have our own outfit. If you won't let us +ride with you, we'll follow after!" + +Jack stared, perplexed and wondering at her hurt tones. Certainly +girls were beyond his comprehension. Though so different in other +respects, it seemed they were alike in this: their perfect +inconsistency. He tried another tack. + +"Did your father let you come?" + +"No," she said unwillingly. "He was very angry with you." + +"He offered to let Davy come," Jack said idly. + +"That's different," she said, wondering at men's stupidity. + +Jack's brain moved only about a third as fast as hers. He frowned at +the fire. "If you lit out without telling him," he began, "he'll think +that I--what will he think of me! After I promised." + +It was Mary's turn to be surprised. "Promised what?" + +Jack turned stubborn. "I can't tell you," he said. + +"But something that concerns me," said Mary. "I think I have a right +to know it." + +Jack merely pulled in his upper lip. "You do lots of things without +explaining them to me. I have the same right." + +Mary dropped the inquiry. "You needn't be anxious about what father is +thinking," she said coldly. "I left a letter for him, telling where we +were going, and I told him you didn't know we were coming." + +They were silent. Jack stared at the fire, wondering unhappily what +was the matter. After they had come, and he had been so glad to see +them, to be near a quarrel already! To heal this inexplicable breach +he put out his hand, and took Mary's. + +She snatched it away with astonishing suddenness. "Don't you dare to +touch me!" she muttered, low and quivering. + +He was blankly surprised. "Why, Mary! What did you come for then?" + +"Not for that!" she cried, with eyes full of anger and pain. "You +asked me to be friends with you. All right. Nothing else!" + +"Friends shake hands, don't they?" muttered Jack sulkily. "One would +think I had the leprosy!" + +"You know what I mean," said Mary more quietly. + +Jack scowled at the fire. "I don't see how a man and a woman--if +they're young--like you and I, can be just friends." + +"They can," said Mary eagerly. "I'll show you." + +Jack looked at her, eager, wistful, self-forgetful as she was, and a +great irresponsible longing surged up in him. Passion darkened his +eyes; his breast began to heave. "I couldn't," he said hoarsely, "not +with you, Mary!" + +She avoided him warily. "Then I must go back," she said sadly. + +Jack forgot that he had intended to send her. "No! Not now," he said +sharply. + +She looked at him with the extraordinary look she had for him, proud, +pitying, and relentless all at once. "Listen," she commanded quietly. +"Somebody has got to speak plainly. I will do it. I like you very +much"--her voice faltered here--"I--I wish to be friends with you--very +much. But if you are so weak and dishonourable as to make love to me +when you are bound to another woman, I shall despise you, and I shall +have to go!" + +Jack recoiled as if she had struck him, and sat staring at her, while +the two hideous words burned their way into his soul. In all his life +he had never been hurt like this. She had dealt a blow at the twin +gods of his idolatry: Strength and Honour. It is true he did not +distinguish very clearly between physical strength and moral. +Strength, none the less, was the word that made his breast lift up, and +Honour, scarcely less. Honour to Jack meant telling the truth. + +The worst of the hurt was that he knew she was right. It was very true +that some one had to speak plainly. This was the disconcerting thought +he had been thrusting out of sight so determinedly. Now that it had +been put into harsh speech it could never be ignored again. + +Mary was busying herself with shaking hands among the supper things. +Obviously she could scarcely see what she was doing. Davy came back +with his poles. + +"Go, go help him," she murmured tremulously. + +Jack obeyed. + +They ate as dawn began to break over the prairie, supper or breakfast, +whichever it was. Davy's light-hearted chatter kept the situation from +becoming acute again. There was no further suggestion of their going +back. Afterward they turned in for a few hours to let the horses rest +out. + +Jack took refuge from the mosquitoes in Davy's tent. He could not +talk, and he turned his back on the boy, but Davy, creeping close, +wound an arm over Jack's shoulder, and, like an affectionate spaniel, +thrust his head in Jack's neck. + +"Say, I'm glad I'm here," he murmured sleepily. "Everything's all +right again. I'd rather be with you than anybody, Jack. Say, I'm glad +I'm a friend of yours. You and I and Mary, we'll make a great team, +eh? What a good time we'll have!" + +He fell asleep. Meanwhile Jack lay staring through the mosquito +netting at the prairie grass in the ghostly light, and the low-hung, +paling stars, thinking of how a woman had been obliged to remind him of +Strength and Honour. + + +Admitting the justice of it, he took his punishment like a man. It was +a much-chastened Jack that issued from the tent into the early +sunshine. And although he did not know it, he was tenfold more in love +with the hand that had chastised him. His glance sought hers humbly +enough now. And Mary? There was none of the disdain he feared; on the +contrary, her telltale eyes were lifted to his, imploring and contrite +for the hurt she had dealt him. + +They looked at each other, and the skies cleared. Nothing was said; +nothing needed to be said. It was enough for Jack that Mary did not +despise him, and it was enough for Mary that he did not hate her. They +were together, and the sun was shining on a sea of green grass. Their +spirits soared. Troubles and heartaches vanished like steam in the +sunshine. Breakfast became a feast of laughter, and Davy was +enraptured. + +"Blest if I can understand you two," the boy said with an unconscious +imitation of his hero's casual manner that made Mary laugh again. "One +minute you're as dumb as owls in the daytime, and the next you're +laughing like a pair of loons at nothing at all." + +They justified it by laughing afresh. "Oh, the loon's a much-abused +bird, Mr. Davy," sang Jack. "He's not nearly as loony as his name. I +think I'll adopt a loon for my crest." + +"What's a crest?" Davy wanted to know. + +"Oh, it's what you have on your note-paper," Jack said vaguely. "And +they carve it on rings for you to seal your letters with." + +Davy looked blank. + +"It's a gentleman's private sign," said Mary. "His totem." + +"Sure," said Jack with a surprised look. "How clever you are!" + +Mary blushed to the eyes. + +They packed and rode on, a cheerful trio on the trail. Jack to all +appearances was his old, off-hand self, but he had stored away his +lesson, and he never looked, or seemed never to look, at Mary. From +her glance at him when she was unobserved one would have said she was +sorry he obeyed her so well. + +Mary and Davy rode with the unconscious ease of those who are born to +the saddle. Mary, who had never seen a riding-habit, had contrived a +divided skirt for herself, as she contrived everything for herself, +cunningly. With it she wore a blue flannel shirt out of the store, +that she had likewise adapted to her own figure. She had a man's felt +hat, but, except when it rained, it was hanging by its thong from her +saddle-horn. Her plentiful dark hair was braided and bound close round +her head. Tied to her saddle she carried a light rifle, which upon +occasion she used as handily as Jack himself. + +Thus she was totally without feminine aids and artifices. With that +firm, straight young figure, that well-set head and those eyes, she was +finer without. For all he was making believe not to look at her, she +stirred Jack's deepest enthusiasm, like the sight of distant hills at +evening, or a lake embowered in greenery, or anything wholly beautiful +and unspoiled from the hand of Nature. + +The slender Davy showed none of his sister's trimness. Davy was a +little nondescript. He possessed "Sunday clothes," but he detested +them, and was only truly happy in his ragged trousers, his buttonless +shirt, and his blackened apologies for moccasins. Davy was apparently +insensible to cold, and it was all one to him whether he was wet or dry. + +At ten o'clock they rode past the little boarded-up store at Fort +Geikie. Two hours later they reined in at the edge of the bench on the +other side of the portage. This was the spot where they had parted so +unhappily. No one referred to that now. Casting his eyes over the +valley, Jack pointed to a number of dark objects in the river meadows +to the west. + +"The horses," said Davy. + +One of the little objects reared, and moved forward in a way that was +familiar to them. + +"And hobbled again," said Jack with a laugh. + +"Of course as soon as you went away they would drive them back," said +Mary. "They wouldn't want to be found with company horses in their +camp." + +Riding down the hill they made their noon spell on the site of Camp +Trangmar. Jack opened the cache for an additional supply of grub, and +what else he needed: his cherished leather chaps, his canvas lean-to, +and mosquito bar. + +"You won't need that," Davy said. "Sleep with me." + +"For Garrod," said Jack. "We can't let the mosquitoes eat the poor +devil." + +Davy caught sight of the banjo inside. "Bring that," he begged. + +Jack shook his head. "No time for tingle-pingling on this trip," he +said, unconsciously using the trader's word. + +Davy begged hard. "I'll look after it myself," he said. + +Jack hesitated. His fingers itched for the strings. "Do you think we +had better take it?" he asked Mary. + +Mary was only human. "Why not?" she said. + +One could not always be dwelling on one's troubles. The banjo was +brought out, and while Mary, with veiled eyes, busied herself mixing +bannock, and Davy listened with his delighted mouth open, Jack filled +his chest and gave them "Pretty Polly Oliver." + +"That's great!" said Davy with a sigh of pleasure. + +Mary said nothing. + +"Do you like it?" Jack asked, very off-hand. + +"Very pretty," she said. + +"Would you dress up as a drummer-boy and follow your lover to the wars, +like Polly did?" Jack asked. + +"No," she said promptly. + +"Why not?" he demanded, taken aback. + +"She was a poor thing," said Mary scornfully. "She couldn't live +single, she said. When she did get to the wars she was only in the +way, and put him to the trouble of rescuing her; but it makes a pretty +song of course." + +"You're not very romantic," grumbled Jack. + +Mary smiled to herself, and attended to the bannock. After a long +time, when Jack had forgotten all about Polly, she said: "I think +romances are for people who don't feel very much themselves." + +After lunch, leaving Mary and Davy to finish packing, Jack circled wide +over the river-meadows to round up the horses, and reconnoitre +generally. Mary and Davy were to follow him. He found that two of the +horses were still missing; the others were in good condition. Riding +on up the trail, he dismounted at a little stream to read what was to +be seen in the tracks. He saw that the horses had been driven back two +days before, and that none of them was hobbled when they crossed the +stream. + +At this moment all Jack's senses were suddenly roused to the _qui vive_ +by the sound of the hoof-beats of two horses approaching along the +trail from up the valley. Here was a new factor entering the +situation. Quickly mounting, he held his horse quiet under the bushes +beside the trail. The newcomers trotted around a bend; all the horses +whinnied, and Jack found himself face to face with Jean Paul Ascota. + + + + +XVI + +THE TEPEES OF THE SAPIS + +The breed betrayed no surprise, and Jack reflected that he must have +seen the smoke of their fire from up the valley. He was riding one of +the missing horses, and the other followed with a light pack. He +smiled blandly, and, bringing his horse close to Jack's, held out his +hand. + +"I glad you come back," he said. "I need help, me." + +Jack ignored the hand. "We're not friends, Jean Paul," he said grimly, +"and we won't make believe." + +Jean Paul shrugged like an injured and forgiving person. + +"You've got to give an account of yourself," Jack went on. + +A spark shot sidewise out of Jean Paul's black eyes. "To you?" he +asked. + +"To me," said Jack coolly, and the blue eyes faced the black ones down. + +Jean Paul thought better of his threatened defiance. "You all time +think bad of me," he said deprecatingly. "I work for you. I get the +horses back." + +Jack laughed in his face. "You're not dealing with Sir Bryson now. +You know as well as I do that the Indians are not stealing company +horses. They might be persuaded to drive them away, but they'd be glad +enough to drive them back when they thought it over. The horses are +nothing to me. Where's Garrod?" + +Jean Paul shrugged again. "I don't know," he said. "I no can find!" + +"That's a lie," said Jack. "You can find anything that you wish to +find in this country." + +"Maybe you tell me 'ow?" Jean Paul returned with an ill-concealed sneer. + +"We'll find him, with or without you," Jack said. + +The horses whinnied again, and presently Jack's little train was heard +approaching along the trail. + +Jean Paul started. Apparently he had supposed that Jack was alone. +"Who you got?" he asked sharply. + +Jack ignored the question. Jean Paul watched the bend in the trail, +lynx-eyed. When Mary and Davy rode into view his angry chagrin peeped +out. He immediately put on the ordinary redskin mask, but Jack had had +a look beneath. + +"A boy and girl!" sneered Jean Paul. + +"Exactly," said Jack. "The boy and the girl speak the native talk as +well as you do. They will interpret for me." + +As Mary and Davy joined them, Jean Paul greeted them politely, shaking +hands with each, according to custom. Mary's face was as bland and +polite as Jean Paul's own. Jack frowned to see her put her hand into +the breed's, but he said nothing. + +"What we do now?" asked Jean Paul of all and sundry. Thus he +gracefully adopted himself into their party. + +"Where is the Sapi camp?" asked Jack. + +The breed pointed west. "One day," he said, "thirty mile." + +"We'll sleep there to-night." + +Jean Paul shrugged. "My horses tire'." + +"Change 'em," said Jack. "We'll wait for you." + +Jean Paul rode after the horses, and Jack sent Davy back to the cache +for the half-breed's tent. + +"Wouldn't it be better if we didn't let him see we were suspicious," +Mary suggested. + +"He'll give us the slip again, if I don't watch him." + +She shook her head decisively. "Not now. He'll never let us talk to +the Sapis without his being there." + +Jack frowned. "My stomach rises against him! I can't hide it!" + +"It would be better," she said gently. + +"You're always right," he grumbled. "I'll try." + +Jean Paul and Davy came back and they proceeded. Their pack-animals +were but lightly laden, and they rode hard all afternoon with very +little speech. Twelve miles from Camp Trangmar they came on the site +of the abandoned Indian camp. At this point the Fort Erskine trail, +leaving the Spirit River valley, turned northwestward to ascend beside +a small tributary, the Darwin River. This stream came down a flat and +gently ascending valley, heavily timbered for the most part, and hemmed +in by mountains wooded almost to their summits. It was a gloomy way, +for they could see but little through the trees. Now and then from a +point of vantage they had a glimpse of the magnificent bulk of Mount +Darwin blocking the valley at the top. + +They spelled once to eat and to rest the horses. Riding on, Mary kept +asking Jean Paul how far it was. At length he said: "Two miles." + +They rode a little farther, and came to a brook. "Let's us camp here," +said Mary suddenly. "I'm tired." + +Jack stared and frowned. Mary tired! "It's less than a mile," he +began. "We have plenty of time to ride in and see this thing through +before dark----" He was stopped by a look from Mary. He was learning +to answer quickly to suggestions from that quarter. + +"Oh, well, if you're tired," he said hastily. + +When he had a chance apart with her he asked: "What's the game?" + +"Don't let's be seen talking together," she said swiftly. "It's +nothing much, only I think maybe he will steal away to the tepees +to-night to tell them what to say to us. If he does I'll follow and +listen." + +Jack looked his admiration. "Good for you!" he said. + +The invariable routine of camping was gone through with, the horses +unpacked and turned out, the little tents pitched, the supper cooked +and eaten. Jack pitched his own little lean-to, because lying within +it he could still see all that passed outside. After eating they sat +around the fire for a while, and Jack sang some songs, that Jean Paul +might not get the idea they were unduly on the alert. The half-breed +complimented Jack on his singing. + +Afterward Jack lay within his shelter, one arm over his face, while he +watched from beneath it. When it became dark he saw Jean Paul issue +boldly out of his tent and move around as if inviting a challenge. +None being forthcoming, he went back. A moment later Jack saw a shadow +issue from behind the little A-tent, and steal away into the bushes. + +He waited a minute or two, and got up. He met Mary outside. "I'm +going too," he announced. + +"It will double the risk," she objected. "There's no need. Nothing +can happen to me." + +"You're wasting time," he said. "I'm going." + +Arousing Davy, and putting him on watch, they set off on the trail. +Crossing the stream, they plunged anew into the fragrant forest of old +pines. It was a close, still night; the sky was heavily overcast, and +it became very dark for that latitude. The trail stretched ahead like +a pale ribbon vanishing into the murk at half a dozen paces. In the +thicker places they had literally to feel for it with their feet. They +had not very far to go. After about fifteen minutes' walking the +stillness was suddenly shattered by a chorus of barking from a few +hundred yards ahead. + +"That will be Jean Paul getting into camp," Mary said. + +The forest ended abruptly, and they found themselves at the edge of a +natural meadow reaching down to the Darwin River. Below them was a +quadrangle of tepees, faintly luminous from the little fires within, as +if rubbed with phosphorous. The dogs were still barking fitfully. + +"Wait for me here," Mary commanded. + +He unconsciously put out his hand toward her. "Mary----" + +She lingered. "Well--Jack?" + +"Let me go instead. I can't stay quiet here." + +"You must. You don't know their talk as well as I do. Nothing can +happen to me. If they do find me out, they are my friends." + +"But the dogs----" + +"They bark at nothing. No one minds them." + +Her eyes beamed on him softly, like stars through the night; her soft +voice was of the night too; and so brave and tender! She was adorable +to him. He abruptly flung himself down in the grass to keep from +seizing her in his arms. + +"Go on," he said a little thickly. "Hurry back." + +Hours passed, it seemed to him; it was perhaps half of one hour. The +dogs barked and howled, and finally fell silent. A partridge drummed +in the depths of the forest, and an owl flew out from among the trees +with a moan that rose to a shriek of agony. Down the valley a fox +uttered his sharp, challenging bark, and the dogs returned with a +renewed infernal clamour. A band of horses stampeded aimlessly up and +down between the tepees. It was a heavy, ominous night, and every +creature was uneasy. + +At last quite suddenly he saw her crouching and running up the grassy +slope toward him. His heart bounded with relief. + +"Be quick," she whispered. "Jean Paul has started back." + +They set off at a run through the black forest, with warding hands +outstretched in front of them. Their flying feet gave little sound on +the thick carpet of needles. In a few minutes she slowed down, and +caught Jack's arm. + +"All right now," she said. "He'll take his time. He suspects nothing +yet." + +"What did you learn?" Jack asked. + +Following him in the trail, she put her hand on his shoulder to keep in +touch with him in the dark. The light contact warmed Jack through and +through. "Jean Paul came to Etzeeah, the head man, to tell him what to +say to us to-morrow. I listened outside with my ear at the bottom of +the tepee. They spoke softly. I couldn't hear everything. It seems +Jean Paul's talk is always for the people to stand together and drive +the white men out of their country." + +"The old story," said Jack. + +"He is clever and they are simple. He tells them my father cheats +them, and gets their furs for nothing. He says all the redmen are +ready to rise when he gives the word. He makes them think he is not a +man like themselves, but a kind of spirit. They are completely under +his influence. They are excited and ugly, like bad children." + +"What about Garrod?" + +"Nothing," she said sadly. "I think they know, but I heard nothing." + +"One thing is certain," said Jack; "if we wish to get anything out of +them to-morrow, we'll have to leave Jean Paul behind." + +"How can we prevent him from coming with us?" + +"I'll have to think about that," Jack said grimly. + +Next morning Jean Paul issued out of his tent as demure and +smooth-faced as a copper-coloured saint. Looking at him they were +almost ready to believe that he had never left it. He did his full +share of the work about camp, did it cheerfully and well. He even had +the delicacy--or whatever the feeling was--to retire with his breakfast +to a little distance from the others, that they might be relieved of +the constraint of his company. + +"He's a wonder," Jack said to Mary with a kind of admiration. + +When they had finished eating, Jack spoke a word to Davy, and the two +of them got a tracking line out of the baggage, a light, strong cord +that Jack had included because of the thousand uses to which it lends +itself. He gave the coil to Davy to carry, and they returned to Jean +Paul. Jack covertly made sure that his six-shooter was loose in its +case. The half-breed, having finished eating, was sitting on the +ground, lighting his pipe. Jack stood grimly waiting until he got it +going well. Jean Paul flipped the match away with an air of bravado, +and a sidelong sneer. + +"Put your hands behind you!" Jack suddenly commanded. + +Jean Paul sprang up astonished. Jack drew his gun. + +"Don't move again," he harshly warned him. "Put your hands behind you." + +Jean Paul slowly obeyed, and Davy twisted the cord around his wrists. + +"Wat you do?" Jean Paul protested, with an eye on the gun and an +admirable air of astonished innocence. "I your man, me. I all time +work for you. You always moch bad to me. No believe no'ting." + +"Next time you leave camp at night tell us where you're going," said +Jack with a hard smile. + +It did not feaze Jean Paul. "Mus' I tell w'en I go to see a girl?" he +demanded, highly injured. + +Jack laughed. "Very clever! But the girl was Etzeeah, and I know all +you said." + +Jean Paul fell suddenly silent. + +"Kneel down," commanded Jack. "Tie his ankles together, Davy, with his +wrists between." + +Jack finished the job himself, going over all the knots, and taking +half a dozen turns around Jean Paul's body, with a final knot on his +chest, out of reach of both hands and teeth. He and Davy then picked +him up and laid him inside his own tent. His pipe dropped out of his +mouth in transit. Jack, with grim good-nature, picked it up and thrust +it between his teeth again. Jean Paul puffed at it defiantly. Jack +fastened the tent flaps back, affording a clear view of the interior. + +"I'll have to leave him to you while we're gone, Davy. Keep away from +him. Don't listen to anything he says. Above all, don't touch him. I +don't see how he can work loose, but if he should"--Jack raised his +voice so it would carry into the tent--"shoot him like a coyote. I +order you to do it. I take the consequences." + +Jean Paul lay without stirring. His face was hidden. + +"God knows what poisonous mess is stewing inside his skull," Jack said +to Mary, as they rode away. + +When the two of them cantered into the quadrangle of the tepees, with +its uproar of screaming children, yelping curs, and loose horses, it +needed no second glance to confirm the report that the redskins were in +an ugly temper. An angry murmur went hissing down the line like the +sputtering of a fuse. Every one dropped what he was doing; heads stuck +out of all the tepee openings; the little children scuttled inside. +Men scowled and fingered their guns; women laughed derisively, and spat +on the ground. + +Jack and Mary pulled up their horses at the top of the quadrangle, and +coolly looked about them. Filth and confusion were the keynotes of the +scene. This was the home-camp of this little tribe, and the offal of +many seasons was disintegrating within sight. All their winter gear, +furs, snowshoes and sledges, was slung from vertical poles out of +harm's way. Between the tepees, on high racks out of reach of the +dogs, meat was slowly curing. + +As for the people, they were miserably degenerate. Their fathers, the +old freebooters of the plains, would have disowned such offspring. The +mark of ugliness was upon them; pinched gray cheeks and sunken chests +were pitifully common; their ragged store clothes hung loosely on their +meagre limbs. A consciousness of their weakness lurked in their angry +eyes; in spite of themselves the quiet pose and the cold, commanding +eyes of the whites struck awe into their breasts. They saw that the +man and the girl had guns, but they hung in buckskin cases from the +saddles, and they made no move to reach for them. They saw the two +speak to each other quietly. Once they smiled. + +It was upon Jack's calling Mary's attention to the absurdity of it, +this little company of tatterdemalions seeking to defy the white race. +There were eighteen tepees, small and large, containing perhaps ninety +souls. It was absurd and it was tragic. Remote and cut-off even from +the other tribes of their own people, they had never seen any white men +except the traders at Fort Cheever and Fort Erskine, and the rare +travellers who passed up and down their river in the summer. + +"I'm sorry for them," Mary murmured. "They don't know what they're +doing." + +"Don't look sorry for them," Jack warned. "They wouldn't understand +it." + +An old man issued from the largest tepee, and approached them, not +without dignity. He was of good stature, but beginning to stoop. He +wore a dingy capote, or overcoat made out of a blanket, and to keep his +long, uncombed gray hair out of his face, he had a dirty cotton band +around his forehead. Not an imposing figure, but there was a remnant +of fire and pride in his old eyes. + +"Etzeeah, the head man," Mary whispered to Jack. + +Etzeeah concealed his feelings. Approaching Jack's horses he silently +held up his hand. + +Jack's eyes impaled the old man. He ignored the hand. Jack had enough +of their talk for his purpose. "I do not shake hands with horse +thieves," he said. + +Etzeeah fell back with an angry gesture. "I am no horse thief," he +said. "All the horses you see are mine, and my people's!" + +"You drove away the governor's horses," said Jack. "And drove them +back after he had gone. They are company horses. It was a foolish +thing to do." + +"It is Ascota who speaks me ill," cried Etzeeah with a great display of +anger. "He comes here, and he makes trouble. He calls us thieves and +bad men. What do I know of white men, and white men's horses?" + +"This is what Jean Paul told him to say," Mary murmured in English. +"They were going to make believe to quarrel before us." + +"Since when has the chief of the Sapis learned to lie?" demanded Jack +coldly. + +"I, no liar!" cried Etzeeah, taken aback. + +"You told a different tale when Ascota came to your lodge last night." + +Etzeeah was silenced. His jaw dropped, and his black eyes looked old +and furtive. + +"I have come for the sick white man, Garrod," said Jack. "Where is he?" + +"I have seen no sick white man," muttered Etzeeah. "Ascota ask me +already." + +"Your women hear you lie," said Jack scornfully. "They are laughing +behind you. I have had enough lies. Call everybody out of the tepees!" + +Etzeeah stood motionless and scowling. + +"Call them out!" repeated Jack, "or I will pull them out by the hair." + +Etzeeah raised his voice in sullen command, and the rest of the women +and the children issued out of the tepees, the little children +scurrying madly to hide behind their mothers, and clinging to their +skirts. + +Jack pointed to the bottom of the square. "All stand close together!" +he ordered. + +The men scowled and muttered, but obeyed. There was no reason why any +one of them should not have put a bullet through Jack's breast, sitting +on his horse before them empty-handed--no reason, that is, except the +terrible blue eyes, travelling among them like scorching fires. Many a +little man's soul was sick with rage, and his fingers itching for the +trigger, but before he could raise his gun the eyes would fall on him, +withering his breast. It was the white man's scorn that emasculated +them. How could one fire at a being who held himself so high? + +"Go through the tepees as quickly as you can," Jack said to Mary. "I +will hold your horse and watch them." + +Dismounting, she made her way to Etzeeah's lodge. + +A hundred pairs of black eyes watched their every movement. Etzeeah +made to edge back toward the crowd. + +"Stand where you are!" Jack commanded. "I am not through with you." + +Etzeeah lowered his eyes, and stood still. + +"Etzeeah, you are a fool," said Jack, loud enough for all to hear. +"Ascota feeds you lies, and you swallow them without chewing. Do you +think you can fight all the white men with your eighteen lodges? To +the south there are more white men than cranes in the flocks that fly +overhead in the spring. When your few shells are spent, where will you +get more bullets to shoot the white men?" + +"Ascota will give us plenty shells!" cried a voice in the crowd. + +"Why isn't Ascota here now to help you?" asked Jack quickly. "He said +he would be here to show you how to fool me? Why? Because I tied him +like a dog in his tent, with a boy to watch him." + +They looked at each other and murmured. + +"If you did drive the white men away," Jack went on, "how would you +kill the moose for food without their powder? Who would buy your furs? +Where would you get flour and tea and tobacco, and matches to light +your fires? Wah! You are like children who throw their food down and +tread on it, and cry for it again!" + +What effect this had, if any, could not be read in the dark, walled +faces that fronted him. + +Mary returned to Jack, bringing a gun, which she handed him without +comment. He recognized it. It was a weapon that had lately been aimed +at him. + +"This is the sick man's gun," he said, looking hard at Etzeeah. + +The chief threw up his hands. "A Winchester thirty-thirty, like all +our guns," he protested. "There are twenty here the same." + +Other men held up their weapons to show. Jack merely turned the gun +around, and pointed to initials neatly scratched on the stock. + +"F. G.," he said grimly; "Francis Garrod." + +[Illustration: "F. G.," he said grimly, "Francis Garrod"] + +"How do I know?" said Etzeeah excitedly. "I have no letters. If it is +the white man's gun, Ascota left it." + +"Ascota does not leave a gun," said Jack. "Where is Garrod?" + +"I don't know," muttered Etzeeah. "I have not seen him." + +"You are lying," Jack said coldly. "For the last time I ask you, where +is Garrod?" + +Etzeeah fell back on a sullen, walled silence. + +Jack turned to Mary. "Is there a woman or a child that he sets great +store by?" he asked swiftly in English. + +"Etzoogah, his son, the pretty boy yonder," she answered. + +Following her glance, Jack had no difficulty in picking out the one she +meant. He was a handsome, slender boy, a year or so younger than Davy. +Where the other children were in rags, he was wearing an expensive +wide-brimmed hat from the store, a clean blue gingham shirt, new +trousers, and around his waist a gay red sash. Moreover, he had the +wilful, petulant look of the spoiled child; plainly the apple of the +old man's eye. + +"Get me a horse and a rope bridle," Jack whispered to Mary. + +There were several horses picketed within the square, handy to their +owners' uses, and Mary made for the nearest. + +"You take my horse?" Etzeeah demanded, scowling. + +"It is for your son to ride," Jack said with a grim smile. "Etzoogah, +come here!" he commanded. + +The boy approached with an awed, scared air. Etzeeah started to his +side, but Jack coolly separated them by moving his horse between. Mary +returned with the other horse, and the boy fell into her hands. She +smiled at him reassuringly. + +"Get on," she said. "Nobody's going to hurt you. Come with us to our +camp. Davy is there." + +All the children knew Mary and Davy. Moreover, there were always good +things to eat in a white man's camp. The boy was well pleased to obey. +Etzeeah shrilly commanded him to dismount, but the apple of his eye +merely laughed at him. The old man began to break. His eyes dulled +with anxiety; his hands trembled. + +"What you do with my boy?" he demanded. "We shoot if you take him." + +Jack laughed. "A red man can't shoot a white man," he said. "His hand +shakes too much. We will take the boy to our camp. We will keep him +until you bring the sick white man to us. If you don't bring him back, +well, maybe we will send the boy outside and make a white man of him." + +Jack gave him a moment. There was no sign from Etzeeah, except his +trembling. + +"Ride on," Jack said to Mary. + +They wheeled their horses, and Etzeeah broke down. + +His hand went to his throat. "Stop!" he muttered thickly. He did not +cry out or protest. He merely shrugged. "So be it," he said +stoically. "I will find Garrod if I can. Ascota took him away from +camp two days ago, and came back without him." + +"Killed him?" cried Jack. + +Etzeeah shook his head. "He was mad. Madmen are not harmed. He took +him into the bush and left him." + +"Left him to starve?" cried Jack. "Good God!" + +"He was mad," repeated Etzeeah. "The beasts and the birds will bring +him food." + +Jack shrugged impatiently. "Very well," he said. "I'll have no more +lies. You come back and show me the place now, or I take the boy." + +"I come," he said. "Etzoogah, get down. Get my blanket!" + +The boy obeyed, none too willingly, and Etzeeah mounted in his place. +"You feed me?" he asked. + +"There is plenty," said Jack. To Mary he said in English. "Make him +ride ahead of you out of camp. I'll stay and hold the crowd. Sing out +when you reach the trees, and I'll come." + +In spite of herself, fear for him transfixed her eyes. "Jack," she +murmured. + +He frowned. "No weakness. You must do as I say." + +Etzeeah got his blanket, and he and Alary rode out of the square. The +Indians stirred and muttered angrily, but the blue eyes still held them +chained. When Mary's "All right!" reached his ears, Jack turned his +horse, and, swinging himself sidewise with a thigh over the saddle, +walked out of the square, watching them still. The theatrical instinct +of a young man suggested rolling a cigarette to him. Slipping his arm +through the bridle rein, he got out the bag of tobacco and the papers. + +At a hundred yards distance the spell that held the Indians began to +break, and they moved forward between the tepees, cursing Jack, and +brandishing their arms. Jack's horse started forward; pulling him in, +he moistened the cigarette, watching them still. Guns were raised at +last--and fired. Still Jack walked his horse. He could see that as +yet the gun-play was merely to save themselves in the eyes of their +women. No bullets came in his direction. But he could not tell how +long---- He lit his cigarette. + +A bullet whined overhead. Another ploughed up a little cascade of +earth alongside, and his horse sheered off. A chorus of maniacal yells +was raised behind him. It was only fifteen yards to the trees. Jack +threw away the cigarette, and gave the horse his head. They gained the +forest, with the bullets thudding deep into the trunks on either side. + + + + +XVII + +ASCOTA ESCAPES. + +When Etzeeah caught sight of the little tents through the trees, he +pulled up his horse. Extending a trembling forefinger, he asked +hoarsely: + +"Ascota, is he there?" + +"Yes," said Jack. "He can't hurt you. He's tied up." + +Etzeeah slipped from his horse. "I wait here," he said. "I not go +where he is." + +"Are you afraid?" asked Jack with curling lip. + +Etzeeah had turned pale; his eyes darted from side to side, and he +moistened his lips. "I am afraid," he muttered doggedly. "He is more +than a man. He has made the beasts speak to me; the porcupine, the +bear, the beaver, each after his own nature. He has made men mad +before my eyes, and brought their senses back when it pleased him. He +mastered the white man, and made him kneel before him, and bring him +his food. This I saw. The like was never known before. Who would not +be afraid? What if he is tied? He will wither me with his eyes!" + +Jack and Mary looked at each other in perplexity. + +"Blindfold Jean Paul," Mary suggested. + +"Good," said Jack with clearing brow. "Watch him," he added in +English, "and come over when I wave my hand." + +Jack led his horse across the brook. Here another evidence of Jean +Paul Ascota's evil power awaited him. Davy at sight of Jack sprang up +with an odd, low cry, and came running to meet him, running waveringly +as if his knees were sinking under him. He cast himself on Jack, +trembling like aspen leaves. + +"Oh, Jack!" he gasped. "I'm glad--oh, Jack! Jean Paul--" + +"He's safe?" demanded Jack. + +"He's safe. Oh, Jack!--he said--he's a devil, Jack. He made me want +to let him go! He said--oh! it's horrible! He said--oh! I can't tell +you! Jack!----" + +The boy's agonized voice trailed off; he sighed, and, his slender frame +relaxing, hung limply over Jack's arm. Jack let his horse go, and +waving to Mary to keep back, he bent, and dashed the cold brook water +in Davy's face. + +He revived in a moment or two, and clung to Jack. "Oh, Jack!" he +murmured, "I thought you'd never come! I was near crazy. He said--oh! +I can't tell you!" + +"Never you mind, old boy," said Jack gruffly. "Forget it! Mary and I +are both here. It's all right now." + +He carried him up the bank, and put him down by the fire. A sip from +Jack's flask further restored him. Then Jack turned with grim eyes and +clenched fists toward Jean Paul's tent. + +"You devil!" he muttered. It was the word they all used. + +"I want to smoke," Jean Paul said impudently. + +"Lie there and want it, damn you!" said Jack. He had much ado to +restrain himself from kicking the beast. As it was he flung him over +none too tenderly, and taking the handkerchief from the breed's neck, +tied it tight round his eyes. + +"There's somet'ing you don't want me to see, huh?" sneered Jean Paul. + +Jack was a little staggered by his perspicacity. + +He waved his hand to Mary. She brought Etzeeah across, and flew to +comfort and restore Davy. They never did learn exactly what Jean Paul +had said to him. At any mention of the subject the boy's agitation +became painful to see. + +Etzeeah after coming into camp never once opened his mouth. He +regarded Jean Paul's tent as nervously as if its flimsy walls confined +a man-eating grizzly. He sat down at some distance, and at the side of +the tent where Jean Paul could not have seen him even had his eyes not +been blindfolded. + +Jack brought wood, and Mary started to prepare a meal for them all, +before taking to the trail again. At a moment when there was +comparative silence a loud voice suddenly issued from the tent, +speaking the Sapi tongue. + +"Etzeeah is there!" + +They all started violently. It was uncanny. Etzeeah paled, and sprang +up. Jack laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. + +"I smell him!" the voice of Jean Paul went on, full of mocking triumph. +"Nothing can be hidden from me! Etzeeah has betrayed me! Bound and +helpless though I am, don't think you can escape me, old Etzeeah! My +medicine travels far! Your son, your fine boy Etzoogah, shall pay. +He's paying now! He falls and twists on the ground with the frothing +sickness--the fine boy! He curses his father!" + +Jack was struggling with the frantic father. "For God's sake, stop his +mouth!" he cried to Mary. "A gag!" + +She flew to the tent, and presently the voice was stilled. The last +sound it uttered was a laugh, a studied, slow, devilish laugh, +frightful to untutored ears. We are accustomed to such tricks on our +stage. + +Etzeeah lay moaning and wailing, clawing up handfuls of earth to put on +his matted gray head. Jack arose from him white and grim, and with a +new light in his eyes. + +"We've had about enough of this," he muttered between his teeth. + +Mary, divining what was in his mind, flew to him. + +"Jack! Not that! Not that!" she gasped, breathless with horror. + +"I'm not going to do it here," Jack said harshly. "I'll take him away. +What else can I do? Look at Davy! Look at the Indian! This breed is +like a pestilence among us! He'll have us all stark mad if I don't--" + +"No! No!" she implored, clinging to him. "You and I are strong enough +to stand it, Jack. We'll come through all right. But we never could +forget"--her voice sunk low--"not his _blood_, Jack!" + +His purpose failed him. He caught up her hand and pressed it hard to +his cheek with an abrupt, odd motion. Dropping it, he turned away. +"All right," he said shortly. His eyes fell on Etzeeah. "Get up!" he +cried scornfully. "This is old woman's talk! If he can send sickness +through the air, why doesn't he strike _me_ down, who bound him, and +blinded, and gagged him?" + +Etzeeah, struck by the reasonableness of this, ceased his frantic +lamentations. + +In an hour they were ready for the trail again. Jack sent Mary and +Davy on ahead with Etzeeah and the pack-horses. It was arranged that +as soon as they reached the site of the former Indian camp, where +Etzeeah said Jean Paul had turned Garrod adrift, they were to drop the +baggage and go in search of the missing man. + +As soon as the others had ridden out of sight, Jack removed the blind +and the gag from Jean Paul and cut the cord that bound his ankles and +his wrists together. He freed his wrists; his ankles he left bound. +The half-breed stretched out, and rolled on the ground in an ecstacy of +relief. Finally he sat up, and Jack put the food that had been left +for him where he could reach it. Jack stood back, watching him grimly, +a hand on the butt of his revolver. + +"Are you goin' to shoot me?" Jean Paul demanded coolly. + +"I wouldn't waste good food on you if I were," returned Jack. "Hurry +up and put it away." + +"You not got the nerve to shoot me," sneered Jean Paul. + +"Try to hypnotize me and you'll see," Jack said with a hard smile. +"I'd be glad of an excuse." + +"Why don' you shoot me now?" Jean Paul persisted, with a look like a +vain and wilful child, experimenting to see how far he can go against a +stronger force. + +"I'd rather see you hang," said Jack. + +"The police can't touch me. I do not'ing against the law, me." + +"There's a thing called treason in this country," said Jack. "You can +hang for that." + +Jean Paul laughed. "Fort Cheever long way," he said. "You not bring +me there, never." + +"Then I'll bury you on the way," said Jack with his grim start of +laughter. + +When Jean Paul had eaten, Jack bound his hands in front of him this +time, and liberated his feet. + +"Get on," he said, pointing to the horse. + +"You can't make me," Jean Paul said with his sidelong look. + +"Shan't try," said Jack coolly. "You can run along at my horse's tail +if you'd rather." + +Jean Paul scowled at the suggested indignity, and climbed on without +more ado. Jack tied his hands to the saddle horn. + +It was seventeen miles down the forested valley back to the site of the +former Indian camp. This, the ancient route between Forts Cheever and +Erskine, was a good trail, and they covered the distance without +stopping. Jean Paul rode ahead, Jack following with his revolver loose +in its holster. It may be said that he almost hoped the breed would +try to escape, to give him a chance to use it, but perhaps Jean Paul +guessed what was in his mind. At any rate he rode quietly. + +Issuing out of the forest at last, the Spirit River valley was spread +before them, with the big stream winding among its wide, naked bars. +The abandoned camp lay below them, a village of bare tepee poles in a +rich meadow surrounded by an open park of white-stemmed poplars. As +they approached it a fresh anxiety struck at Jack's breast, for he saw +the three pack-horses picketed to the trees with their packs on their +backs. He knew that only an emergency would have taken Mary and Davy +away without unloading them. The animals had been rolling, to the no +small detriment of their baggage. Jean Paul laughed at the sight. + +Jack had no recourse but to possess his soul in patience until they +came back. Meanwhile he unpacked the horses, and pitched their four +little tents, two on each side of the fire. He bound Jean Paul +securely as before, and put him in his own tent. He hung the gag from +the ridge-pole with significant action. Jean Paul's lips were already +bruised and blue as a result of the previous application. + +Not until late afternoon was Jack's anxious breast relieved by the +sight of the three horses single-footing it across the meadow. Davy +rode first, then Etzeeah, looking crestfallen and sullen, and Mary +bringing up the rear, her rifle across her arm, and determination +making her girl's face grim. Evidently there had been trouble; but the +three of them, and uninjured! Jack could have shouted with relief. + +"He ran away," Mary explained briefly. "Davy and I had hobbled two of +the riding horses, when he suddenly jumped on the third and headed +north. He got a couple of minutes' start before we could get the +hobbles off and after him. When he got in the timber, he turned the +horse adrift, and we lost more time following its tracks. But I +guessed he would make back to the trail as soon as you had passed, so +we patrolled it, and we nabbed him at last." + +"Good work!" said Jack briefly. It did not occur to him that there was +something rather extraordinary in a mere girl and boy bringing in the +headman of the Sapi Indians by themselves. He expected it of their +white blood. + +There seemed to be nothing for it now but to bind Etzeeah hand and foot +also, and to convert Jack's tent into a cell for him. The two +prisoners lay in their separate shelters on one side of the fire, while +their captors watched them from the other. Jack was to sleep with +Davy, and except for Mary's rifle, all the weapons in camp were stowed +in that tent. The long-threatened rain set in steady and cold, and the +night threatened to be as dark as winter. + +They ate their supper inside Davy's tent, while the fire sputtered and +sulked in the rain. A heavy silence prevailed; for one thing, they +were dead weary, and their difficulties were pressing thick upon them. +The rain did not lighten them. Jack, looking at Mary and Davy, thought +with softening eyes: + +"They're clear grit! But if I only had another man!" + +The instant they had finished eating he ordered the two youngsters to +bed. "I'll feed the two of them," he said, nodding across the fire, +"and clean up. It will help keep me awake." + +"You need sleep more than either of us," Mary objected. + +"If I once let myself go I'd never wake," he said with a laugh. "I'll +call you at midnight." It was tacitly understood between them that +Davy was not to keep watch. + +His work done, Jack sat down inside the door of Davy's tent to smoke, +and if he could, to keep the fire going in spite of the rain. He found +that it required too great a blaze to be proof against the downpour. +He had not nearly enough wood to last throughout the night, so he let +it out in order that Mary might enjoy what remained of the fuel. When +the fire went out he could no longer see into Jean Paul's tent, so he +crossed over and sat down beside him. Throughout the weary hours he +sat smoking to keep himself awake, until his mouth was raw. From the +adjoining tent issued the reassuring sound of Etzeeah's snores; Jean +Paul, too, never stirred, and his breathing was deep and slow. + +Midnight had passed before Jack had the heart to waken Mary. He first +took advantage of a lull in the rain to start the fire again. As he +threw back the curtain of her little tent, the firelight shone in her +face, rosy and serene in sleep, her cheek pillowed on her round arm. +The sight stirred him to the very core of his being. He knelt, gazing +at her breathlessly. He forgot everything, except that she was lovely. +He suddenly bent over her with a guilty air, and lightly kissed her +lips. + +She opened her eyes. He sprang away in a panic at the thought of her +scorn. But she awoke with an enchanting smile. "Jack I dreamed----" +she began, as if it were the sweetest and the most natural thing in the +world for her to find him bending over her at night--and caught herself +up with a burning blush. Jack hastily retreated outside. Neither of +them referred to it again. + +Jack was asleep as soon as he stretched himself beside Davy. The next +thing he knew, something had happened, what it was he could not tell. +He staggered to his feet, and out into the open, drunken, paralyzed +with sleep, and fighting for consciousness. + +"Jack, he's gone!" cried Mary. + +That awakened him. He saw her on her knees before Jean Paul's tent, +and ran to her. The tent was empty. The rain poured down on their +heads unheeded. The fire was out. + +Mary was in great distress. "My fault," she said. "It rained harder +than ever, and the fire went out. I could not bear to sit beside him +as you did. It made me sick to be so near him! I thought I could +watch from my tent. The wind came up and it was hard to see. He fixed +the blanket to look as if he was still under it. He must have slipped +out of the back!" + +"But tied hand and foot!" cried Jack. + +"The cords are here," she said, displaying them. + +"But how?" demanded Jack. + +Mary's searching hand found two small stones in the blanket that she +showed Jack; one had a sharp, jagged edge, and the explanation was +clear. Throughout the hours when Jack sat beside him, and he seemed to +be so sound asleep, the wily breed had been patiently rubbing at the +cords until they frayed apart. + +"No more your fault than mine," said Jack grimly. + +Simultaneously the thought of Etzeeah occurred to them, and they sprang +to look under the adjoining shelter. At first glance in the darkness, +the Indian seemed to be safely there, but when Jack put out his hand +the puffed-up blanket collapsed, and there was nothing under it. At +that, for the first, their strong young breasts were shaken by awe. + +"Good God!" Jack gasped. "He's got him, too! How could he? With you +not twenty feet away. And not a sound. Is it a man or a devil?" + +The pegs that held down the back of Jack's lean-to were drawn, showing +how Jean Paul had entered, and how he had removed his prey. + +"Etzeeah--" said Mary tremblingly, "do you suppose Jean Paul has-- + +"He would hardly take him alive," said Jack grimly, "without a sound." + +"But he had no weapon, we know that." + +"His hands!" + +They were silent. + +"But if he did," faltered Mary, "why would he take--take the body away?" + +Jack shook his head. "They are always mysterious," he said. + +"He may be near," whispered Mary. "What's to be done?" + +"He's not dangerous to us until he gets a weapon," said Jack. "Wake +Davy, and you two watch our guns. I'll bring in the horses." + +It was near four, and beginning to be light. The rain ceased, and a +thick white mist clung to the river-meadows. It was not easy to find +the horses. Jack satisfied himself that two of them were missing. Why +two? he thought. He did not find the body of Etzeeah, as he half +expected. + +He had to wait for better light before he could look for tracks. He +found them at last, leading back up the Darwin valley, the fresh +hoof-prints of two horses superimposed on the confusion of tracks they +had made coming and going. The horses had been ridden at a gallop. +Jack returned to tell Mary. + +"He's gone all right," he said. "And alive or dead, he's taken Etzeeah +with him. The second horse carried a load too. He's gone back to the +Sapis for grub and a gun." + +Mary searched Jack's face with a poignant anxiety to see what he +intended to do. "Let him go," she suggested. "We know that Garrod is +near here somewhere." + +Jack stood considering with bent brows and clenched hands. He finally +shook his head. "He could come back to-night, and pick us off one by +one around our fire. We'll have no peace or security until I get him, +Mary. I'll have to leave Garrod to you and Davy. You know how much +finding him means to me!" + +"But you," she faltered, her eyes wide with terror for him, "you can't +go back alone to the Sapis. They shot at you!" + +Jack's uncertainty was gone. He raised a face, transfigured. + +"Pshaw! That mongrel crew!" he cried. "They're the least of my +difficulties. I'll drop on them before Jean Paul can work them up to +mischief. _I've got to get that breed_! No murder can be done in my +camp, and the murderer get away! No redskin shall ever live to brag of +how he bested me! I'll get him if I have to ride to hell and drag him +out!" + + + + +XVIII + +THE END OF ASCOTA + +Two hours later Jack rode into the Sapi village for the second time, +and flung himself off his tired and dripping mount. The horse stood +with hanging head, and feet planted wide apart, fighting for breath. +This time Jack's arrival created little visible sensation. The people +were otherwise and terribly preoccupied. A strange silence prevailed, +extending even to the children and the dogs. Many of the people were +gathered around the entrance to Etzeeah's lodge. They merely turned +their heads with a scowl, and the men drew on the walled look they +affect in the presence of whites. In the faces of the women and +children awe and terror were painted. + +"Ascota, where is he?" Jack demanded. + +Hands were silently pointed up the valley. + +"How long?" + +"Half an hour," one said. + +Outside the square Jack saw two more dead weary horses still wet from +their punishing ride. + +"Where is Etzeeah?" he asked. + +There was no answer. All the heads turned as one toward the tepee. + +Jack threw back the blind that hangs over the entrance, and, stooping, +entered. He was prepared for what he saw. The body of the old man +sprawled on its back beside the fire. All around the tepee squatted +his wives and his sons in attitudes of sullen mourning. Etzoogah, the +best-beloved, eyed the body askance with scared eyes, and chewed the +tassel of his red sash. Etzeeah was not a comely sight. Death was in +his face, but none of the majesty of death. His grimy, wrinkled skin +was livid and blackened. The marks on his scrawny throat showed how he +had met his end. + +Stooping, Jack picked up his hand, and let it fall. It was +significantly cold and stiff. He decently composed the dead man's +limbs, and signed to one of the women to cover the body with her shawl. + +Rising, he looked grimly around the circle. "This is murder!" he said. + +None showed in any way that they heard. + +"Who will ride with me to catch the murderer?" he demanded. + +None moved. The faces of the women showed a start of terror. + +Jack went outside again, and looked over the silent crowd. Seeing +Charlbogin, one of the deserters, among them, he went to him. + +"Did Ascota speak?" he demanded. + +The sulky boy could not resist the command. "Ascota throw Etzeeah on +the ground, so!" he said with a striking gesture. "He say: 'This is a +man who betrayed me! Bury him!'" + +A shudder passed through the crowd. Children wailed and whimpered. + +"Then what?" asked Jack. + +"He take a gun and a blanket, and moose meat from the fire; he catch a +horse and ride west." + +"And you let him go!" exclaimed Jack. + +"Ascota is not a man like us," the young man muttered. "He does what +he likes." + +"More woman's talk!" cried Jack. "Are there any men among you? Come +with me, and I'll show you stronger magic than Ascota's." + +Some of the men affected to smile contemptuously as at an idle boaster. +None moved to follow him. The obstinacy of their terror faced Jack +like a wall, and he saw the futility of trying to move it. + +He cursed them roundly. "I'll go alone then," he cried. "Bring me the +best horse there is. I'll pay." + +They shrugged as much as to say: "Let him, as long as he pays." One +went to get the horse. In five minutes Jack was pounding the trail +again. + +Beyond the village the valley narrowed, and the roar of the plunging +stream rose from the bottom of it. The bordering hills rapidly became +steeper and higher. The trail did not follow the course of the river, +but found an easier route along the face of the hills a hundred feet or +so above. The sides of the hills had been burned over, here, and the +forest was only a wilderness of naked, charred sticks. Many of these +had fallen in the trail, making slow going for the horse. Occasionally +the little river paused for a while in its headlong descent to wander +back and forth through a green meadow. The trail came down to cross +these easy places, and it was only here that Jack could extend his +horse. + +The plain tracks of Jean Paul's horse led him on. Jack could read that +the breed was riding recklessly and distancing him steadily mile by +mile, but he would not on that account risk his own horse's legs +through the down timber. "I'll get him," he said to himself coolly, +with the terrible singleness of purpose of which he was capable. In +such a mood he was no longer a man, but an engine. + +Jack had come across the mountains from Fort Erskine by this trail, and +he knew it well. It was evidently for Fort Erskine, where he was not +well known, that Jean Paul was making. Ahead, through the forest of +bare sticks that hemmed him in, Jack could see the gateway to the +mountains, the magnificent limestone pile of Mount Darwin on the right. +He had worked around the base of Darwin, and all this was familiar +ground. + +It was about noon when Jack and his horse, rounding a spur of the hill, +were brought up all standing by the sight of a dark body lying in the +trail ahead. Dismounting, and tying his trembling animal to a tree, +Jack went forward to investigate. It was a horse, Jean Paul's horse, +with a broken foreleg, and abandoned to its fate. Jack's heart beat +high with hope; the end of this thing was in sight now. The poor brute +raised agonized eyes to him. Jack could not put a bullet through its +head without betraying his whereabouts, but he mercifully cut its +throat. + +He proceeded warily. He was covered from above by the very steepness +of the hill and the impenetrable barriers of the fallen timber. The +prints of Jean Paul's moccasins led him ahead. The trail dropped +steeply to a little stream that he knew well; it drained the easterly +slope of Mount Darwin. It marked the edge of the burned-over tract, +and on the other side the trail plunged into virgin forest again. + +Jack went forward as cautiously as an Indian, taking advantage of every +scrap of cover. At the brook he lost Jean Paul's tracks. It was clear +the breed had waded either up or down. Jack was pretty sure he would +not be far away, for the redskin of Jean Paul's type has no love for +long journeys afoot. But it promised to be a somewhat extended stalk +and his horse was no use to him. He therefore went back, cached his +saddle, and turned the beast out hobbled, trusting that it would find +its way back to the last river-meadow they had passed. Blanket and +grub Jack strapped on his back, and his gun he carried under his arm. + +He spent an hour searching up and down the shores of the creek for +tracks, without success. Neither was there any evidence of Jean Paul's +having returned to the trail farther along. If Jack was well skilled +in reading tracks, the breed was adept in hiding them. Jack's only +recourse was to climb. There is a little eminence abutting on the base +of Mount Darwin and on the top of it a knoll of naked rock that +overlooks the valley for miles up and down. Knowing the natives' +deep-rooted aversion to drinking cold water, Jack guessed that Jean +Paul would have to build a fire, and from this point of vantage a fire, +however small, would almost surely betray his whereabouts. + +Taking his bearings, he made a beeline up the steep slope through the +heavy, old timber that reached up from the valley, and through a dense +light growth of poplar above. This part of the mountain offered no +special difficulties in climbing, and in half an hour he threw himself +down on the flat top of the knoll, with the valley spread before him. + +Mount Darwin reaches a long promontory down the valley it has given its +name to. The promontory consists of seven little peaks in a row, each +one rising over the head of the one in front, and the seventh is the +actual summit of the mountain. It was on number one of these little +summits that Jack now lay, looking down the valley up which he had +ridden that morning. A mile or so away was a patch of green with a +black dot upon it, that he guessed was his horse. + +Off to his left, hidden in the forest, the creek came tumbling down +from the snows above; on his right hand the river washed the rocky base +of the monarch. The easiest way to the summit is right on up over the +succeeding peaks; indeed on this side there is a mountain goat trail +direct to the top. Darwin can also be climbed, but not so easily, by +ascending the creek for a couple of miles, thence up a steep slide to a +long hogback that leads back to the sixth peak. On the river side the +rocky cliffs tower six thousand feet into the air, sheer and +unscalable. Such was the theatre of the pursuit of Jean Paul Ascota. + +In all the wide space opened to Jack's eye there was not a sign of +life, except the black pin-point that he supposed was his horse, and a +pair of eagles, sailing and screaming high above the forest. Nowhere +in the brilliantly clear air was there the least sign of smoke. He ate +some of his bread and meat while he watched, and smoked his pipe. He +marked a place around to the right below where the trail passed over a +rocky spur. On the other side it was open to him through the down +timber; so that Jean Paul could not pass either way on the trail +without his seeing him. + +It was hard on the engine of retribution to be obliged to sit and wait. +When his pipe went out he moved restlessly up and down his little +plateau or shelf of rock. Behind him, the forest grew close and high, +hiding the rest of the mountain. He never knew quite how it happened, +but at one end of the rock, near the place where he had come up, he +suddenly found himself staring at the perfect print of a moccasined +foot in a patch of moss! His breast swelled with satisfaction at the +sight; at the same time he frowned with chagrin to think of the +valuable time he had wasted sitting within twenty feet of Jean Paul's +trail. + +Jean Paul's path up through the thickly springing poplar saplings was +not more than two yards from Jack's own. Such are the caprices of the +Goddess of Chance! He had crossed the rock, and continued on up the +mountain by the mountain goat trail, which first became visible here. +Evidently believing that he had shaken off pursuit, and that no one +would dream of looking for him on the mountain, he was no longer taking +any care to cover his tracks. + +Jack hastened after, as keen and determined as a high-bred hound whom +nothing short of a cataclysm could divert from his purpose. The rough +track followed the top of a stony ridge, which dropped steeply to the +river on one side, and sloped more gradually into a forested hollow on +the other. A thick growth of pines afforded him perfect cover. Like +all animal paths, the trail wound like a tangled string among the +trees. The growth ended abruptly on the edge of a shallow rocky cut +athwart the ridge. On the other side of the cut rose the steep face of +the second little peak in the series. + +Jack paused within the shelter of the trees to reconnoitre. The great +slope of rock opposite, with its wide, bare ditch, made a well-nigh +perfect natural fortification. He watched the top of it lynx-eyed, and +presently he was rewarded by the sight of a wisp of smoke floating over +the edge. Jack drew a long breath and grimly smiled. So that was +where he was! + +He had chosen admirably. The growing timber ended at the spot where +Jack was, but up above there was enough down timber to keep the breed +in fire until the judgment day, if he wished to stay, and his fire +would be invisible from any point in the valley. For water, all the +ledges and hollows on the northerly side were heaped with snow; for +food there were mountain goats and ptarmigan; for defence he had only +to roll a stone down on the head of any one who tried to climb to his +aerie. + +While Jack watched, carefully concealed, Jean Paul suddenly showed +himself boldly on the edge of the cliff. The distance was about three +hundred yards, a possible shot, but at a difficult angle. Jack held +his hand. It was all important not to put the half-breed on his guard +just yet. Jean Paul carelessly surveyed the approaches to his +position, and went back out of sight. + +Any attack from in front was out of the question. Only one thing +suggested itself to Jack: to climb the mountain by the other possible +route, and come down on Jean Paul from above. As soon as it occurred +to him he started to retrace his steps, without giving a thought to the +enormous physical exertion involved. This way was beset with +difficulties; the bed of the creek was heaped with the tangled trunks +brought down by the freshets. But Jack set his teeth doggedly, and +attacking these obstacles, put them behind him one after another. + +The sun was three hours lower before he stood at the edge of the timber +line on the other great spur of the mountain. He hesitated here. +Above him extended a smooth, steep slide of earth and stones at least +two thousand feet across, and without so much as a bush or a boulder +for cover. At the top of this slide was the hogback that led back to +the sixth peak. If Jean Paul was watchful he could scarcely fail to +see Jack mounting the naked slope. True, nearly half a mile separated +them, but a moving black spot, however small, would arrest his +attention if he saw it. He would not mistake it for an animal, for the +only animal on the upper slopes is the snowy mountain goat. + +However, Jack had to chance it. His principal fear was that Jean Paul, +seeing him, might climb down from his rock and gain a long start of him +to the valley. But he reassured himself with the thought that the +Indian could not guess but that there were others waiting below. It +would require a stout heart to climb down that rock in the face of +possible fire from the trees. + +Jack started his climb. Occasionally he could see Jean Paul moving +around on his distant rock. Sometimes he thought the black spot seemed +to stand and watch him, but this was his fancy. However, when he was +halfway up, he saw him without doubt begin to climb the face of the +third peak, and Jack knew that he had been discovered. Jean Paul was +going up instead of down. "I'll get him now," Jack told himself. + +Thus began a strange and desperate race for the summit of the mountain. +Until near the end it was anybody's race; Jean Paul was the nearer, but +he had the steeper way to go; he was also the fresher of the two, but +Jack was insensible of fatigue. The Indian kept himself out of sight +for the most part, but occasionally the configuration of the rocks +obliged him to show himself, and Jack marked his progress keenly. +Meanwhile his own climb was nearly breaking his heart. He found that +it was only a heart after all, and not a steam-chest. One cannot run +up a mountain with impunity. + +Jean Paul mounted the fourth peak about the same time that Jack reached +the hogback, and threw himself down to ease his tortured breast for a +moment. Jack had now to turn at right angles, and every step brought +them nearer to each other. Jack had cover behind the summit of the +ridge all the way to the foot of the last climb. It was impossible for +either to guess the outcome. Jean Paul was still the nearer, but Jack +was making better time. He ran along the slope on a level line and +gained a hundred yards. + +When he looked over the top again he was encouraged to see that Jean +Paul was labouring hard. He had often to throw himself down in full +sight to give his heart a chance. Meanwhile they were coming very +close. They were already within gunshot when the peak they were both +striving for intervened between them. The breed was aiming for one +side, Jack for the other. Jack wondered, should their heads rise over +the top simultaneously, which would have the strength to lift his gun. + +Toward the base of the peak of rock the ridge became steep and broken. +Excruciating pains attacked Jack's legs, and his sinews failed him. He +dropped to his hands and knees, and crawled on. He had almost reached +the little peak, when suddenly a dark face looked down on him from over +the top, and he had just time to drop behind a jutting shoulder of rock +to escape the bullet that whistled overhead. The race had gone to Jean +Paul. + +Jack lay debating his next move. Meanwhile it was grateful to rest, +and to feel the strength steal back. His case was not yet hopeless, he +decided. The rounded cone of rock that Jean Paul held was easily +accessible from any point of the arc visible to Jack, and from the +speed with which the breed had gained the summit, he guessed that it +must be even easier from the other side. With darkness to aid him he +ought to be able to surprise his enemy. The sun was setting now. At +close quarters Jack's revolver would give him an advantage. + +But this same train of reasoning must have passed through the breed's +mind, for later, upon peeping around his rock, Jack saw that Jean Paul +had retreated from his peak, and was running off to the right across +the flat battlement that connected it with the slightly higher cone +that was the true summit of Mount Darwin. He had started to scramble +up the face of the rock. Springing up, Jack fired at him, but it was +too far, and there was cover behind the jutting ledges. Jean Paul +gained the top in safety. + +Jack promptly seized the position he had abandoned. Rising cautiously +over the side farthest from Jean Paul, he built himself, stone upon +stone, a little parapet upon the summit, behind which he could lie and +watch his enemy through the interstices. Presently he saw that Jean +Paul was following suit, covering himself behind his wall while he +raised it. A shot or two was exchanged, but without effect, and as if +by mutual consent they left off. Their lead was too precious to be +splashed on the rocks. + +So they watched, each holding alone, as it were, a heaven-piercing +tower of the same castle, with the battlement between. It was a dizzy +perch. The whole world was spread beneath them, a world of confused +gray, and brown mountain peaks like vast stalagmites pointing fingers +toward heaven. It was like a nightmare sea suddenly petrified with its +waves upheaved. In the whole vast wilderness there was no suggestion +of mankind or of life. Up there the thin, cold air sharpened the +senses; one seemed to become aware of the great roll of our planet to +the east, and instinctively clung to the rock to keep from being flung +off into space. + +About two hundred yards separated the white man and the breed. Jean +Paul's position was some fifty feet higher than Jack's, and Jack had +therefore to build the higher parapet. Nevertheless Jack's heart beat +strong; he had him trapped now. At the same time it was a +well-defended trap, and there he might sit watching him until +starvation took a hand in the fight. Jack had only full rations for +one day more; he suspected Jean Paul might be better provided. A red +man starves slower than a white. Each could reach plenty of snow to +quench his thirst, but there was nothing to burn up there. Jack looked +through his peepholes, and considered how he might bring matters to an +issue. + +On his right in the corner between the hogback and the final peak there +was a bowl a thousand feet deep or more, with a little lake in the +bottom of a colour between sapphire and emerald. The sides of the bowl +were steep slopes of rubble. Jack could not see all this from where he +lay, but he had marked it on the way up. After dark he thought it +might be possible to crawl around the rim of the bowl to the base of +Jean Paul's tower of rock, and scale it from that side. This he could +see, and he scanned it hard. It was a staggering climb--say, two +hundred feet of precipitous limestone. But it was scarred and ridged +and cracked by centuries of weather; and it was not absolutely +perpendicular. It might be done. + +Having made up his mind, he coolly rolled up in his blanket to sleep +behind his parapet until dark. Small chance of Jean Paul's venturing +across the battlement. + +When he awoke it was as dark as it would get. He fortified himself +with bread and meat washed down by snow-water. He left his gun rolled +in the blanket--the revolver would serve better--and he propped his hat +an a stone so that the crown would peep above his little wall. If it +should become light before he reached him, it might serve to occupy +Jean Paul's attention for a little. If he succeeded in knocking it off +its stone, so much the better. + +The passage around the rim of the bowl offered no special difficulty, +except the danger of starting a miniature avalanche down the slope, and +putting the breed on his guard. He took it a foot at a time. In an +hour he drew himself up the first steps of his rocky tower, with the +stars looking over his shoulder. Stars, too, seemed to be glancing up +at him out of the depths of the black gulf. He would not let himself +look down. With the faculty he had, he closed his brain to any thought +of failing or of falling. "I'm going to get him! I'm going to get +him!" it beat out like a piston, to the exclusion of everything else. +Darkness aided him in this, that it prevented the awful hazard from +forcing itself on him through his eyes. + +His hands had to serve him for eyes, groping, feeling for the ledges +and cracks like the antennae of an insect. He gave himself plenty of +time; he did not wish to arrive at the top until there was light enough +to make sure of his man. He had it figured out in his odd, practical +way: three hours, a hundred and eighty minutes; a foot and a half a +minute was ample. He could afford to rest and to steady himself on +every wide enough ledge. + +The face of the rock unrolled itself like a map under the eyes of his +hands, and he remembered each foothold as he put it behind him. When +he came, as he did more than once, to a smooth, blind face of rock that +barred further progress, he patiently let himself down again, and hit +off at another angle. His aim was to work himself gradually around to +the back of Jean Paul's tower of rock, and fall on him squarely from +the rear. + +He became aware of the approach of dawn through a slight change of +colour in the rock on which his eyes were stubbornly fixed. He could +not tell how far he had yet to climb, but he had confidence in his +calculations. Only once was his nerve shaken. A ptarmigan suddenly +flew out from a cranny above his head with a soft whirring of wings. +He wavered for a second, and the sweat sprung out all over his body. +But he gripped the rock hard, and grimly forced the rising tide of +hysteria down. "Twenty feet more and I'll have him!" he told himself. + +At last, above his head, the face of the rock receded under his +exploring hand, and he knew he had come to the top. This was the +difficult moment, for how was he to know upon drawing himself over the +edge that he would not find himself looking into the grinning face of +his enemy. A little push back would be enough! He paused for a while, +listening. Suddenly his heart was gladdened by the sound of a shot. +Jean Paul had fallen into his trap, and was popping at the hat. Jack +called on all the forces of his body, and with a great effort drew +himself silently over the rounded edge of the rock. + +Jean Paul was ten yards away, and a few feet above him. His back was +turned. He was exposing himself boldly over the top of his parapet, +wondering perhaps why his shots had drawn no reply. Against the vast +expanse of sky the silhouette still had the neat and ministerial +outline; the Testament still peeped out of the side pocket. Jack +sprang over the rock. Jean Paul turned, and Jack had an impression of +blank eyes, fixed as by a blinding flash at night. Jack's rush bore +him down before he could raise his arms; the gun exploded in the air. +Jack wrenched it out of the man's hands and sent it spinning over the +edge. They never heard it fall. + +Drawing his revolver, Jack got up from the breed. Jean Paul lay +motionless. Jack watched him warily. It was dimly borne in on him +that after all he had been through his difficulties were only now +beginning. He had got his man and so kept his vow to himself; but, +richly as he deserved death, he couldn't shoot him disarmed. What was +he to do with him then? + +"Get up," he said harshly, "and over the wall with you." + +Jean Paul raised himself to a sitting position. He had not yet fully +recovered from the shock of surprise. He stared at Jack with a kind of +stupid wonder. "In a minute," he muttered. + +Jack was willing enough to take the breathing-space himself. Both men +were near the point of physical exhaustion. After the excitement of +the chase the actual capture was tame. + +"Well, 'ere we are," said Jean Paul with an odd start of laughter. +"W'at you goin' to do?" + +"I've told you," said Jack. "I'll take you to the fort or bury you on +the way. I keep my word." + +There was a silence between them. They were motionless on their little +platform of rock, remote in the great spaces of the upper air. Jean +Paul looked straight ahead of him with his hard, flat black eyes, in +which there lurked something inhuman and inexplicable, and he idly +plucked bits of moss from between the stones. What thoughts were +passing through his head only God who made the redskins knows. When he +turned his eyes again to Jack, it was with the old vain, childish, +sidelong look. + +"You t'ink you one brave man, huh, to climb up the rock las' night?" + +"Never mind that," said Jack coolly. "You don't know yet what white +men can do." + +Jean Paul sprang up with an extraordinary display of passion. "White +men!" he cried, flinging up his arms. "You are not the only men! I am +a man as much as you! I am half white and I hate the whites! My +fathers were white as well as yours. They beget us and they spit on +us. Is it my fault that my blood is mixed? Am I your brother? No, +your dog that you kick! Very well. I will do something no pure white +man ever did. You go back and tell them!" + +On the side of the river, the rock they were on ran up and ended in a +row of jagged points like the jaw of a steel trap, overhanging a well +nigh bottomless void. With his last words Jean Paul ran out on one of +these points of rock, and stood there, with arms flung up, like a diver +before he makes his cast. + +Jack's heart contracted in his breast. "Come back!" he gasped. + +"Come and get me, white man!" cried Jean Paul over his shoulder. +Exaltation was in his face. + +[Illustration: "Come and get me, white man!" cried Jean Paul, over his +shoulder] + +Jack put up his revolver and, crouching, made to seize the man's legs. +Jean Paul, with a strange, loud cry, stepped off, and was no more. No +sound of any fall came up. Jack had not the stomach to look over. + + +Four hours later he found the thing below. He had no tools to dig a +grave, and he heaped a cairn of stones over it. On the face of a great +boulder that overlooked the cairn he scratched an epitaph with the +point of his knife: + + JEAN PAUL ASCOTA + Killed by leaping from the summit + of Mount Darwin + August -- 19-- + A bad man and a brave one. + + +Then Jack lay down and slept around the clock. + + + + +XIX + +AN OLD SCORE IS CHARGED OFF + +Drawing near to the Sapi village on his return, Jack first came upon a +group of children picking wild strawberries in the meadow, who fled +screaming in advance of him into the compound. There, every task was +dropped, and every dark face turned toward him. Fairly startled out of +their affectation of stolidity, they streamed toward him from under the +sun shelters and from out of the tepees with cries of astonishment. +Jack was not deceived by the apparent warmth of their welcome; they +were not glad to see him, only amazed that he should have come back at +all. + +He pulled up his horse in the centre of the square, and remembering the +last time he had addressed them, looked them over with a kind of grim +scorn. Just now he was unable to feel any of the kindness for these +feather-brained children of the woods that Mary had. He knew the value +of scant speech with them, and he made them wait for his announcement. + +At last he said: "Ascota is dead!" + +They stirred, and softly exclaimed, but one man laughed. His example +was infectious; incredulity showed openly in their faces. + +"Big talk!" one said insolently. "Where's the proof?" + +Jack quietly untied a little bundle from the back of his saddle, and +unrolling the flour bag in which he had carried his grub, produced a +little book and held it up. It was Jean Paul's Testament, that they +all knew. There was a dark and swollen blotch on the leather cover. +The absolute silence with which it was received was more impressive +than their cries. + +Jack handed it to the man who had spoken. It opened in his hands. +There was a crimson stain around the edges of the printed page--wet +crimson. The man who held it started back, and those looking over his +shoulders gasped. The book was passed among trembling hands. Finally +it came back to Jack. + +"I will tell you where his body is hidden," said Jack. "A mile beyond +the crossing of the creek out of Mount Darwin there is a big spruce on +the right-hand side of the trail. On it I made a blaze with the sign +of the cross in it. One hundred and ten paces from that tree as you +walk toward the mountain he lies under a pile of stones. There is a +big rock above, with his name and his story cut upon it." + +It was very clear that none of them had any desire to seek out the +spot; indeed, from that time the Fort Erskine trail was closed to the +Sapis by reason of Ascota's grave being upon it. + +"Who is the head man now?" Jack demanded. + +They turned toward Etzeeah's eldest son, a sullen broad-shouldered +brave, the best physical specimen among them. + +"Take warning," said Jack clearly, "you and your people! Ascota was a +bad man, a big mouth, a trouble-maker, who tried to stir you to evil, +while he kept himself clear. He dared to speak against the great white +father across the sea. It was the chickadee piping at the eagle. He +is dead. We are all the children of the white father; his children and +his servants. His police are now at the fort. You will do well to +ride in and make your peace, before they come to punish you. That is +all I have to say." + +One silently brought him the horse he had left there, and, leading it, +he rode through the quadrangle and away by the trail, without looking +back. There was no demonstration against him now. The awe that Ascota +had inspired in them was transferred to the man who had brought about +his death. + +Three hours later, as Jack's horse sidled down the hill into the Spirit +River valley, his rider looked with a beating heart for the four little +tents he had left in the meadow below. They were not there. A great +disappointment filled him, and a sharp anxiety. What he had been +through had made greater inroads on his reserve forces than he knew, +and in Mary's deep eyes his weary spirit was unconsciously seeking +harbourage. + +However, as he rode up to the ashes of their fire he saw that he had +not been forgotten. In the forks of two little sticks driven into the +ground was laid a peeled wand roughly shaped like an arrow, and +pointing northeast. On it had been printed with a piece of charcoal: +"7 miles." + +Riding in the direction it pointed he found a freshly blazed trail +through the trees. It led him among the poplars along the foot of the +bench to the opening of a coulee, up which it turned. It took him +north through a narrow valley wooded with great spruce trees. Through +openings in the trees on either hand he could see the steep, naked, +uncouth forms of the foothills that hemmed the valley in. A trickle of +water flowed musically in the bottom of it. + +It was difficult going for the horses over the fallen and rotting +trunks of the untrodden forest, with its treacherous, moss-hidden +pitfalls. The seven miles seemed to stretch out into thrice that +distance before he came to the end of his journey. He smelled the +smoke of a campfire long before he could see it. Finally the trail +turned at right angles, and started to climb. He issued out of the +trees, and there on a terrace of grass above him he saw the little +tents and the fire; he saw Mary turning toward him with harassed, +expectant face. + +A little cry escaped her, and she came flying to meet him. Jack +slipped off his horse. A little way from him she caught herself up, +and her body stiffened. The action brought to Jack's mind all that he +had forgotten, and he turned a dull red. It had been in his heart to +seize her in his arms. A horrible constraint descended on them both. +They did not touch hands; they could not meet each other's eyes; speech +was very difficult and painful. + +"You are all right?" she murmured. "Not hurt?" + +"Not a scratch." + +"And Jean Paul?" + +"He is dead." + +She started with horror, and in spite of herself glanced at Jack's +hands. + +"He killed himself," Jack added quickly. + +Her hands betrayed a movement of relief. There was a silence. + +"What about you?" mumbled Jack, scowling. "What are you doing up here? +Where is Davy?" + +"I have something to show you," she said, with a strange look. + +He followed her up the slope. He wondered why there were three tents +pitched. The third was Jean Paul's A-tent. Mary threw back one of the +flaps, and he saw a blanketed form inside. + +"The kid!" he murmured, full of anxious concern. But even as he said +it, he saw that it was not Davy. Stooping, and looking farther within, +he saw a gaunt travesty of the face of Frank Garrod. The eyes were +closed. + +Something clutched at Jack's heart. He fell back. "Good God!" he +muttered. "You've got him! Is he dead?" + +She shook her head. "Sleeping," she said. "Come away a little." + +They sat on the other side of the fire. "Davy has gone back to the +cache," she said, taking care to avoid Jack's eyes, "for milk powder, +if there is any, and whiskey, and any medicines he can find. He will +be back before dark." + +"Has he said anything?" asked Jack, looking toward the tent. + +Mary shook her head. "Nothing you could understand. He is very low. +We will not get him back to the fort. He was four days in the bush. +He had only berries." + +"Then it's too late after all," said Jack apathetically. + +"Who can tell?" said Mary. "They say often they get their full senses +back for a little while before they die." + +Jack shrugged. "Who would believe what he said at such a time?" + +Mary was silent. Her capacity for silence was greater perhaps than +Jack's. + +"Tell me about finding him," Jack said. + +"We started out as soon as you left," she said, carefully schooling her +voice. "It was clear Jean Paul would take him among the hills to lose +him, so we struck up the coulee at once. Too many days had passed for +us to find their tracks, and it had rained. But I was sure we would +find him in the valley. The hills were too steep; besides, even a +madman stays by the water. We looked all day without finding anything +until near dark. Then we came on some tracks in the mud by the stream. +We camped right there the first night. There were many coyotes on the +hills, both sides, and I thought he must be near and they +were--waiting." She shuddered. + +"In the morning we found him," she went on in a low voice. "Just below +here. He had fallen down beside the water. His face was in the mud, +but the mosquitoes had not left him. So I knew he was not dead. Davy +and I carried him up here where it was dry. I fed him a little bread +soaked in water. Davy went back for the other horses and the dunnage, +and to leave a sign for you. That was yesterday. This morning Davy +went to the cache." + +"Oh, Mary! what a woman you are!" Jack murmured out of the deeps of his +heart. + +She rose with an abrupt movement, and went to look at the sick man. +She came back presently with a pale, composed face, and quietly set to +work mixing dough for their evening meal. There was a long and +sufficiently painful silence. + +"It's a funny situation, isn't it?" said Jack at last, with a bitter +note of laughter. + +"Better not talk about it," she murmured. "Let us just wait and see." + +Being forbidden to talk about it, the desire to do so became +overmastering. "Suppose he doesn't say anything," he began. + +"It won't make any difference to your friends," she said. "They know +you're not a thief." + +"It's a queer business this having a good name and not having one," +Jack went on, plucking blades of grass. "As if anybody cared who took +the money." + +Mary offered no comment. + +"I'd lose my claims," Jack went on. "I couldn't go out to file them. +But the governor would never put the police on to me, now. He'd be too +jolly glad to get rid of me." + +Mary refused to raise her eyes from the dough. + +Jack thought she hadn't understood what he was driving at. "You see it +would let me out there," he went on. "This would be my country for +ever and ever, and the people up here my only friends." + +There was another silence. He looked at her hungrily. The hard young +face was soft enough now. + +"Mary," he murmured hoarsely at last; "I don't give a damn if he never +speaks." + +The dough-pan was dropped at last. She lifted a tortured face. +"Don't," she murmured low and swiftly. "Don't you see what it means? +Don't you see how you're hurting me? You mustn't wish it. Maybe our +thoughts are influencing his sick brain this minute. He must speak! +He must tell the truth and clear you. Nothing else matters. You must +be able to go wherever you choose. You must be able to look any man in +the face. I couldn't bear anything else." + +Jack scowled, very much hurt--and a little ashamed perhaps. "I didn't +think you were so anxious to send me outside," he muttered. + +She threw him the look of pity and despair that women have for the men +they love who will not understand them, and, springing up, went to look +at her patient again. + +By and by Davy arrived. His greeting to Jack supplied the warmth that +Mary's had lacked. Jack hugged the boy with a sidelong look at his +sister. Afterward Jack briefly and baldly told his story by the fire. +Our hero had no talent for description. + +"I slept until dark, and then just crawled around the edge of the slide +below the ridge, and climbed up the back of the rock." + +Davy's and Mary's eyes were big. "Climbed up the back of the summit at +night?" murmured Mary. + +"Sure," said Jack. "I took it slow and easy. As soon as I got light +enough I dropped on him from behind. That was one surprised redskin!" + +"Then what happened?" demanded Davy, breathlessly. + +Jack frowned. "He jumped off," he said shortly. + +"Jumped?" they cried. "Was he killed?" asked Davy. + +"Quite," said Jack grimly. "And some to spare." That was all they +could get out of him. + +They ate their supper, and the sun went down. Mary, leaving the boys +smoking by the fire, took up her vigil within the door of the little +A-tent. Davy chattered about the prairie chicken that had flown across +the trail, about the squirrels that had broken into the cache, about +the moose he had seen swimming the river. Jack with an unquiet breast +sat listening for a sign from Mary. + +Suddenly she came out of the tent, dropping the flaps behind her. +"Jack!" she whispered breathlessly. + +He sprang to her. + +Her clenched hands were pressed hard to her breast. "He's awake," she +murmured. + +"Is he--sane?" + +"I--I don't know," she said a little wildly. "He looked at me so +strangely. Oh, Jack!" + +He took her trembling hand in his firm one. There was no selfish +passion in him now. "Steady, Mary," he said deeply. "We've done the +best we could. Whatever will happen, will happen. Better go away for +a little." + +She gave his hand a little squeeze, and shook her head. "I'm all +right," she murmured. "I must know." + +Jack threw back the flaps, and, stooping, entered. "Hello, there!" he +said quietly. + +The sick man turned his head. His eyes were unnaturally bright, and a +feverish colour suffused his face; his lips were swollen. +"Macgreegor," he whispered. He passed a hand across his eyes. "It is +Macgreegor, isn't it?" + +Something melted in Jack's breast at the sound of the old boyish +nickname. "Sure thing," he said, kneeling beside him. + +Garrod reached out his hand, and Jack took it. "Thank God, you're +here," he murmured in the soft, hurried accents of the fever patient. +"I'm going, Macgreegor. I've made a rotten mess of it, haven't I? +I'll be glad to go if I can square myself with you first. Where are +we? It doesn't matter. Can anybody take down what I want to say?" + +Mary's eyes were big with tears. She produced the pencil Jack had +given her, but it appeared there was not a scrap of blank paper in the +outfit, not a scrap of paper except the little Testament with its ugly +stains. Davy handed it to her. On the fly leaves, with their damp, +red borders, Mary prepared to write as Garrod dictated. + +"Lift me up a little, Macgreegor," Garrod said. "I can breathe easier. +Your arm under my shoulders. That's good. It's like the day at Ste. +Anne's when I fell out of the tree. We were seventeen then. You were +always holding me up one way and another, Macgreegor. You never knew +what you were to me. It was quite different from your feeling for me. +I can say it now, anyway. I was a bit cracked about you." + +"You'll wear yourself out talking," said Jack with gruff tenderness. + +"It won't take me long," Garrod said. "I'll have time." + +He expressed no further curiosity as to where he was, or how Jack had +come there. He referred to no recent happening. His attention was +fixed on the all-concealing gray curtain ahead, through which he must +presently pass, and he hurried to get what must be said, said in time. +There was something uncanny in the perfect clearness of his thoughts, +after what had passed. + +"You wonder how I could do as I did if I felt like that toward you," he +went on. "Well, sometimes I hated you too. I was jealous of you, you +were so much cooler and stronger than I, so much more of a man. I +don't suppose you understand. We're not supposed to be like that. I +guess I was born with a queer streak." + +On the other side of Garrod sat Mary, ready with the pencil and the +book. Davy, large-eyed and solemn, filled the doorway. + +"I, Francis Garrod, being about to die, do desire to make my peace with +God if I may, and with my friend Malcolm Piers, whom I have deeply +wronged. It was I who took the money from the Bank of Canada that he +was accused of stealing. None but I knew before-hand that he was going +away, nor his reasons for going. The morning after he went the sight +of the money in the vaults tempted me. He had influential friends and +relatives, and I knew there would be no scandal. I took the money in +old bills that could not be traced. I have not known a minute's peace +since then. It drove me mad by degrees, and it is the cause of my +death. + +"Should any doubt be cast on this confession, it is easy to verify it. +Within a month of the theft I opened accounts in the following banks +and branches of banks in Montreal." A list of the banks followed. "In +each I deposited a small sum. The total will be about forty-five +hundred dollars. The rest I kept by me. Furthermore, among the papers +in my desk will be found a letter from Malcolm Piers dated from +Winnipeg a few days after his disappearance. The post-mark is intact. +In every sentence of this letter there is proof that the writer had no +theft on his conscience when he wrote it, and no money. So help me +God!" + +Garrod signed the page with a sufficiently firm hand, and Davy and Mary +wrote their names beneath for witnesses. Jack gave Mary the grim +little volume to keep for him, and she and Davy went away. + +"That's done," murmured Garrod with a sigh. His fictitious strength +seemed to ebb with the sigh. He slipped down on Jack's arm a little. +"Don't leave me, Macgreegor," he murmured. "It's all right with us +now, isn't it?" + +"Sure, I won't leave you," said Jack. + +The voice came in a whisper now with many breaks and pauses. "The +lights of Ste. Catherine's street, Macgreegor, on a Saturday night, and +the crowds, and the stairs up to the gallery of the old Queen's, how +they echoed under our feet! We saw the 'Three Musketeers!' ... 'Member +the rink in the winter? And the old Park Slide? ... And Ste. Anne's, +with the sun shining on the river? There's another pair of kids +winning the tandem paddles now, eh? ... How good it is to have you +here, old fel'! 'Member the first day I came to work at the bank! You +blacked Husky Nickerson's eyes because he blotted my ledger. We nearly +all got fired, but you saved us with your pull. Husky, too! How I +admired you, with your crooked eyebrow, and your curly hair, and your +straight back! + +"Well, it's all over for me, old fel' ... and nothing to show! I'll be +twenty-six next month.... Life's a sad thing ... and empty! ... I +wish--I wish I had done differently. It's good to feel your arm, +Macgreegor! ... What time is it, old fel'? Pretty near closing-time? +..." + + +Three days later Jack, Mary, and Davy rode into Fort Cheever in the +evening. On the fourth horse was lashed a significant looking bundle +neatly wrapped in canvas, the canvas of the other dead man's tent. A +heartfelt welcome awaited them. David Cranston showed no anger at his +children. He only looked from Mary to Jack and back again with a kind +of wistful, inquiring scowl. + +During the interval of their absence the steamboat had arrived, and +after waiting twenty-four hours, had returned down river only that +morning, taking Sir Bryson and his party. Since nothing could be +guessed of the probable return of Jack, the captain had not felt +justified in waiting. Jack guessed, furthermore, that Sir Bryson had +not exerted his authority to delay the steamer. The +lieutenant-governor had had his fill of the North. The steamboat had +brought up Sergeant Plaskett of the mounted police, and a trooper from +the Crossing. + +Garrod was buried at dusk on the hillside behind the fort. Sergeant +Plaskett read the burial service. Afterward Jack told his story, and +at daybreak the policemen started west to interview the Sapi Indians. +Before noon they had returned with Ahcunazie, the eldest son of +Etzeeah, and the members of his immediate family. He was on his way in +to make peace with the authorities, as Jack had advised. + +David Cranston learned something more from Mary, and something from +Jack. The situation was too much for the honest trader. He shook his +head dejectedly, and had nothing to offer. Measles broke out again +among the Indians at Swan Lake--at least Mary said it had. At any +rate, she rode away with Angus, Davy's next younger brother, the +following day, and Jack did not see her again. + +Cranston had a letter for Jack. Thus it ran, the paper blistered with +tears, and the headlong words tumbling over each other: + + +MY OWN JACK: You _are_ mine, aren't you? I am nearly crazy. I don't +know where you are or what has happened, and they're taking me away! +How could you go without saying a word to me? How can you be so hard? +As soon as you get this, come to me! Come to me wherever you are, or +whatever has happened! I'll bring father around! Only come! I can't +live unless you come! When I think of your failing me, I am ready to +do anything! I have no one but you. They all look at me coldly. I am +disgraced. Only you can save me. I love you! I love you! I love +you! ... + + +And so on for many pages. Older heads can afford to smile, but to the +inexperienced Jack it was terrible. + +The police hearing was concluded two days later. At evening that day +Jack, declining a lift down the river in Plaskett's canoe, pushed off +alone on the same little raft that had brought him to Fort Cheever a +month before. + + + + +XX + +THE LITTLE GREAT WORLD + +Mr. Malcolm Piers stood before the mirror tying a white bow at the top +of an effulgent shirt bosom. It was a room in Prince George's best +hotel, and it had been his room for six weeks. His brown ruddiness had +paled a little, and his face looked harder and older than the wear of +only two months warranted. Unhappiness or perplexity, or indeed any +emotion, caused Jack to look like a hardy young villain. Only the eyes +told a tale; a profound discontent lurked in their blue depths. + +He finished dressing and took down his overcoat and topper. Evening +dress became him well, and he knew it, and took a certain satisfaction +in the fact, for all that the world was going badly. His abounding +health and his hardness marked him out from the usual dancing man. +Hunching into his overcoat, he put out the light, and with the act the +night out-of-doors leaped into being. Struck by it, he went to the +window and flung it up. + +The stars were like old friends suddenly brought to mind. So they +shone over his own country where there were no grosser lights to +outface them impudently; so they shone nights he had lain well-wrapped +on the prairie, counting them while he waited for sleep; so they shone +through the spruce branches in the valleys. The town of Prince George +is built on top of the bench, and his window looked into the deep +valley of the river. It brought to mind his own river, the serene +Spirit; his and Mary's; Mary's whose eyes were as deep and quiet and +healing as the stars. + +Leaning against the window-frame, he lost count of time. He thought of +the nights he had careered over the prairie on horseback under the +stars. He had called his new horse Starlight, a thoroughbred. How the +beast would love the prairie! How his knees ached for him this minute, +to bear him away from all this back to _her_! How her eyes would shine +at the sight of Starlight! Never had such a horse been seen north of +the Landing. How he would love to give him to her! How fine she would +look on Starlight! He fell to picturing her under all the different +circumstances he remembered. Sweetest and most painful was the +recollection of how he had kissed her sleeping in the light of the +fire, and how her soft, warm lips had smiled enchantingly under the +touch of his. + +He was brought back to earth by the ringing of the telephone bell in +the room behind him, and a summons from below. He went down stairs +cursing himself. "You fool! To let yourself get out of hand! What +good does it do?" + +It was the night of the hospital ball in Prince George. The provincial +parliament had reassembled, the courts were sitting, and the little +western capital was thronged with visitors more or less distinguished. +The ball was held under the largest roof in town, that of the armory; +the band had been imported all the way from Winnipeg, and the +decorations and the gowns of the women would have done credit to +Montreal itself. To the women the particular attraction of the +occasion was the presence of an undoubted aristocrat, Lord Richard +Spurling, seeing Canada on his grand tour. + +Linda was radiant, the greatest little lady there! There was nothing +here to suggest the frightened child who had left such a desperate note +for Jack. Her world had not turned its back on her; on the contrary, +she had made a grand reéntrée with the halo of adventure around her +pretty head. She was wearing a dress of rose-madder satin straight +from Paris, a marvel of graceful unexpectedness, hanging from her thin, +alluring shoulders by a hair, and clinging about her delicate ankles. +She was wearing all the pearls that had shared her adventures, besides +some new ones, and a jewelled aigrette in her dark hair. A whole +company of cavaliers dogged her footsteps, including the lordling +himself, a handsome and manly youngster, irrespective of the handle to +his name. + +Jack was not one of the company that surrounded her. Jack and Linda +had been leading a kind of cat and dog life the past few weeks. Their +engagement was admitted, but had not been announced. Jack did not +shine in Linda's world; glumness is the unpardonable sin there. +Moreover, Jack was a perpetual reminder of things she was ashamed of +now. And there were so many other men! At the same time she kept a +tight hold on him by the means that such little ladies know so well how +to employ. + +Jack kept out of her way until it was time for the first of the two +dances she had vouchsafed him. As he approached her she could not but +acknowledge his good looks, she was a connoisseur, but a good-looking +thundercloud! The dance was not a success; they were out of harmony; +they stepped on each other's toes! + +"Let's stop," said Linda fretfully. + +As soon as they were out of earshot of the crowd she opened on him: +"You haven't been near me all evening!" + +"You know I'm at your disposal," Jack said stiffly. "But I will not +make one of that train of young asses that follow you around." + +"You don't have to," retorted Linda. "And you needn't be rude. Follow +whoever you please around, but for heaven's sake don't stand against +the walls with a face like a hired mute!" + +This stung. Nevertheless, Jack doggedly admitted the justice of it to +himself, and "took a brace," as he would have said. "I'm sorry, +Linda," he said manfully; "I'm a bit off my feed to-night. You know +I'm no good at this sort of thing." + +She was merciless. "It's not only to-night. It's all the time; ever +since you've been here. It's not very flattering to me to have you go +round with me as if you were dragged against your will." + +Jack pulled in his lip obstinately. He had made his apology; she had +rebuffed him; very well. Linda, glancing sideways under her lashes, +saw that she would get no more out of him in this connection. She made +another lead. + +"Take me to the north end of the gallery," she drawled. "I promised to +meet Lord Richard there at the end of this dance." + +Jack obeyed without comment. + +"He's an awfully good sort, isn't he?" she went on, with another +sidelong glance at Jack. "I was surprised to find out how well he +dances. Englishman, you know! He likes Canada better every day, he +says. He's going to stay over for the golf tournament if I will let +him. He is looking for a ranche somewhere near town." + +Jack woke up. "First-rate head," he said heartily. "We've talked a +lot about the North. He wants to make a trip with me." + +Linda bit her lip. + +Later Jack sought out Kate Worsley, with whom he had a dance. These +two had made great progress in intimacy. + +"Shall we dance?" she said. + +"No, please," said Jack. "Linda says I dance like her grandfather. +One gets rusty in five years!" + +"To sit out then," said Kate. "Let's get in the first row of the +gallery, where we can hang over and watch the giddy young things!" + +Their conversation did not flourish. The night outside still had Jack +by the heartstrings; loping over the prairie under the stars, the +far-off ululation of a wolf, a ruddy campfire in the dark, and beside +it, Mary! + +"You're not exactly garrulous to-night," remarked Kate. + +Jack turned a contrite face to her. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't be rude to +you, Kate!" + +"Bless your heart! you don't have to talk unless you are moved to it. +I don't like to see a pal looking so down, that's all." + +"Down?" said Jack with a laugh. "I'm living in hell, Kate!" + +"Tell me about it, old man. You can, you know." + +He shook his head. "I can't talk about it. I only sound like a fool. +It only makes matters worse to talk about it." + +Kate knew her men. "Change the subject then," she said cheerfully. +"How are business matters going?" + +"All right," said Jack. "I have sold my claim and the other one to Sir +Bryson's company for twenty-five thousand--a fair price." + +"Cash or stock?" asked Kate. + +"Cash. I have no talent for business. I don't want to be in the +company." + +"The other claim?" she asked. + +"Miss Cranston's?" he said self-consciously: + +"I thought there were three." + +"The third belongs to Linda." + +"Well, what are you going to do now?" she asked. + +He looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean?" + +"You're too good a man to hang on here in town," she said off-hand. + +"Do you think I'm staying because I want to?" he burst out. "Good +heavens, I'm mad to get away! I hate all this! I'm fighting myself +every minute!" + +She looked at him inscrutably. "My young friend, you're blind!" + +"You don't understand," muttered Jack miserably. + +"Don't I?" she said, wistful and smiling. "I've thought quite a lot +about your case, but I wasn't sure that I had the right to speak." + +"Oh, Kate!" he said turning to her quickly; "you know I'd take anything +from you!" + +She smiled at the way he put it. "I'm not going to abuse you. My +advice to you is simply--to go!" + +Jack stared at her. + +"Go!" she repeated. "Ride away! Ride back to your own work in your +own country, the place you suit, and that suits you. You'd never be +any good here. Look at Linda in her finery! This is the breath of her +nostrils. She has her eye on Montreal--London eventually. How could +you two ever hope to pull together? Mind you, I'm her friend too, and +I believe that I'm doing her a service in advising you to ride. Girls +get carried away temporarily like men, though they're not supposed to. +Girls often get hysterical, and write much more than they mean. +Letter-writing between the sexes ought to be made a felony." + +"She has my word," muttered Jack. + +Kate shrugged. "There's the man of it! It is a fetich! Would you +spoil Linda's life for the sake of keeping your word, not to speak of +your own life and--perhaps a third!" + +Jack's face was obstinate. "I'll see Linda and put it straight to +her," he conceded. + +Kate's eyebrows went up. "These men!" she said helplessly. "You ought +to know her a little by this time. That will do no good. Much better +go without. It's a thing that ought to be broken off. What matter who +does it, or how it's done? The result will be good." + +"I couldn't go unless she releases me," Jack said. + +Kate got up smiling. "We must go back," she said. "A man must do as +he will. You are an awfully nice boy, Jack. I believe I love you for +your very mulishness. Write to me sometimes out of the North." + +"I haven't gone yet," he said grimly. "You must promise to forget +every word that has been said if I ask you to." + +"I promise, dear old man." + +For Jack to think of a thing was to put it into instant execution. He +set off in search of Linda. One of the likeliest places to find her +was on the balconies. There was a suite of rooms across the front of +the armory, the officers' club, with a long narrow balcony overhanging +the street. For the occasion of the ball, potted palms had been placed +at intervals down the balcony, making a series of little nooks, each +with two chairs, and each reached through its own window. The largest +of the rooms with the balconies outside had been set apart for Sir +Bryson and his party. + +Dancing was in full swing below, and Jack found the room empty. None +of the little nooks outside were occupied. In one of them Jack sat +down to wait for the end of the dance. Almost immediately two people +entered the next bower to his. Their voices were pitched low, and at +first he did not recognize them. + +"Now for a cigarette," said the man. + +"Lucky man," said the girl. "I'm dying for a puff!" + +"Have one," he said. "I'll take it from you, if any one comes." + +There was a silence, and the striking of a match. Then a long-drawn +feminine "Ah-h!" which was undoubtedly Linda's. Jack stood up to speak +to her over the dividing palms. It was not a thing to do, but Jack was +a man of one idea at a time; he had to speak to her, and his other +dance was at the tail of the evening. He wished merely to make an +appointment to speak with her later. + +As his head rose over the palms he was just in time to see the blond +head of the English boy and Linda's darker, bejewelled head draw close +together, and their lips meet and linger. They did not see him. + +Jack dropped back as if he had been shot, blushing and furious with +himself. To be a peeping Tom! a thing he loathed. He silently cut +across the room within the balconies, praying that they might not hear +him. Wild horses would never have dragged any admission from him of +what he had seen. + +But when he got his breath again, as one might say, oh! but he found +his heart was beating blithely! He felt as if he had burst out of a +hateful chrysalis. Life was full of joy after all! A little song rang +in his ear: "It's all right! It's all right!" Laughter trembled in +his throat. + +He waited about on the stairs for Linda to come down. She finally +appeared, cool and scornful, her heels tapping on the stairs, the thing +in her hair nodding and sparkling. Who would ever guess that her +little Mightiness had just been kissed! The spring of laughter bubbled +up inside Jack. He presented a bland face to her, but he could not +hide the shine in his eyes, nor the smirk about the corners of his lip. + +"What is it?" asked Linda, staring at the change in him. + +"Whom have you the next dance with?" + +She named a name. + +"I know him," said Jack. "Wait for me upstairs, and I'll see if I +can't make an exchange. I want to talk to you." + +Linda's curiosity was aroused, and she went back upstairs with Lord +Spurling. In five minutes Jack had rejoined her, and the two of them +went out on the balcony again, in the same nook Linda had shared with +the Englishman. + +"Well, what is it?" she asked. + +"Linda," he said, "we've done nothing but quarrel since I came. Let's +cry quits!" + +"It hasn't been my fault," she said, all ready for another. + +"Never mind whose fault," he said. "Let's cut it out!" + +"What's come over you?" she asked curiously. + +"Look here," he said, "up North I promised that I'd come and claim you +as soon as I cleared myself. Well, I came, and I've been here long +enough to show us both that it's no go. We're not suited to each +other. We only get on each other's nerves. Give me my word back +again, Linda. Let's shake hands on it, and say good-bye!" + +Linda started, and looked at him with big eyes. "Jack!" she murmured. +"You'd desert me? You can't mean it? What would I do?" + +She got no further. The great eyes, the plaintive tremulo, the +threatened tears, all the old tricks after what he had just seen, +struck Jack as too funny! His laughter broke its bonds. He threw back +his head, and gave it way. There was nothing mocking or bitter in it; +it was pure laughter from the relief of his heart. He laughed and +laughed. He had had no laughter in weeks. He was obliged to lean +against the window-frame and hold his ribs as at a vulgar farce. + +Linda's expression graduated from amazement to pale fury. She sprang +up. The jewelled aigrette fairly bristled with rage. "How dare you!" +she cried. "Shut up! I hate you! You make me feel like a perfect +fiend! I'd like to scratch your eyes out! Go back to your squaw! +It's all you're fit for. I was going to speak to you myself. +Understand, I'm throwing you over! I despise you!" She stamped her +foot. "Go back to her, and be damned to you both!" + +She vanished. Such was the end of that affair. + +Jack went in search of Kate, and found her on a man's arm bound +supperward. "Could I have a word with you urgent and private?" he +whispered. + +Kate looked at his happy eyes and nodded. "Front balcony, five +minutes," she murmured back. + +The balcony again. + +"Kate, I'm off!" he cried. "This very night. In an hour I'll be +pounding the North trail on Starlight. I'm so happy I can't keep the +ground. If the boats have stopped running, I'll ride the whole way +through. Kate, dear, you've been a powerful good friend to me. I'd +like to kiss you good-bye." + +"You may," she said, smiling and lifting her face. + +"There!" he said. "There! and there! and there!" + +"Mercy!" said Kate. "I'll have to retire to the dressing room for +repairs! Good-bye, and God bless you!" + +After the family had gone to bed, Mary and Davy Cranston stole back +into the living-room, and quietly blowing up the fire, put on fresh +sticks. They sat down before it, nursing their knees. Nowadays there +was a stronger bond than ever between Mary and Davy. In that +disorganized household in the winter this was the only chance they had +to talk together. + +"What do you suppose he's doing to-night?" said Davy. + +"Who knows?" said Mary. "A party of some kind, or the theatre." + +"If father had let me go out with him," said Davy, "I could have +written and told you everything he did." + +"Father was right," said Mary. "He'll let you go when the time comes. +But that sort of thing would only unsettle you. We're not society +people." + +"I don't see why you're not," said Davy stoutly. + +"It's too complicated to explain," she said in a level voice. "Anyway, +I wouldn't like it." + +"Whatever Jack does is all right, isn't it?" demanded Davy. + +"He was born to it," said Mary. "That makes the difference. +Besides----" + +"Well?" + +"I don't think he likes it either. But it's necessary for him just at +present." + +"I wish I could see him!" cried Davy. + +Mary was silent. + +"I mean to be just like him," Davy went on. "Do you think I'll ever be +as strong as that?" he asked anxiously. + +"It doesn't matter," said Mary, staring into the fire. "You can be as +brave and honourable." + +There was a knock at the front door. Brother and sister looked at each +other in surprise. + +"A sick Indian," said Mary. + +Davy went to see. He closed the door of the room after him. Presently +Mary heard a little cry, quickly smothered. Davy came in again +breathless, and with shining eyes. + +"There's--there's some one wants to see you!" he said shakily. "Oh, +Mary!" + +She ran out into the hall. The front door was open, and he stood +there, broad-shouldered and bulky with much clothing, dark against the +field of snow. He was bareheaded, and the moonshine was making a +little halo around the edges of his curly pate. He held out his arms, +and in a twinkling she was in them. + +"Mary! My love!" he murmured. "I nearly went out of my mind wanting +you. I've come back for you! Never to leave you again!" + +Their lips met, and their tears ran together. Mary was the only woman +who ever saw those hard blue eyes fill and overflow. + + + +THE END + + + + THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS + GARDEN CITY, N.Y. + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Jack Chanty, by Hulbert Footner + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 56999 *** |