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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19510-8.txt b/19510-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e1ea619 --- /dev/null +++ b/19510-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10141 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, North of Fifty-Three, by Bertrand W. +Sinclair, Illustrated by Anton Otto Fischer + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: North of Fifty-Three + + +Author: Bertrand W. Sinclair + + + +Release Date: October 9, 2006 [eBook #19510] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 19510-h.htm or 19510-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/5/1/19510/19510-h/19510-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/5/1/19510/19510-h.zip) + + + + + +NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE + +by + +BERTRAND W. SINCLAIR + +Author of +The Land of Frozen Suns, Etc. + +With Illustrations by Anton Otto Fischer + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Oh!" she gasped. "Why--it's gold!"] + + + + +New York +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers +Copyright, 1914, +by Little, Brown, and Company. +All rights reserved. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTERS + + I. WHICH INTRODUCES A LADY AND TWO GENTLEMEN + II. HEART, HAND--AND POCKETBOOK + III. "I DO GIVE AND BEQUEATH" + IV. AN EXPLANATION DEMANDED + V. THE WAY OF THE WORLD AT LARGE + VI. CARIBOO MEADOWS + VII. A DIFFERENT SORT OF MAN + VIII. IN DEEP WATER + IX. THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT + X. A LITTLE PERSONAL HISTORY + XI. WINTER--AND A TRUCE + XII. THE FIRES OF SPRING + XIII. THE OUT TRAIL + XIV. THE DRONE OF THE HIVE + XV. AN ENDING AND A BEGINNING + XVI. A BRIEF TIME OF PLANNING + XVII. EN ROUTE + XVIII. THE WINTERING PLACE + XIX. FOUR WALLS AND A ROOF + XX. BOREAS CHANTS HIS LAY + XXI. JACK FROST WITHDRAWS + XXII. THE STRIKE + XXIII. THE STRESS OF THE TRAIL + XXIV. NEIGHBORS + XXV. THE DOLLAR CHASERS + XXVI. A BUSINESS PROPOSITION + XXVII. A BUSINESS JOURNEY + XXVIII. THE BOMB + XXIX. THE NOTE DISCORDANT + XXX. THE AFTERMATH + XXXI. A LETTER FROM BILL + XXXII. THE SPUR + XXXIII. HOME AGAIN + XXXIV. AFTER MANY DAYS + + + + +List of Illustrations + + + "Oh!" she gasped. "Why--it's gold!" . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ + + Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, resting one + hand on the muzzle of his grounded rifle + + "Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared." + + Bill stood before the fireplace, his shaggy fur cap pushed far + back on his head + + + + +NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE + + +CHAPTER I + +WHICH INTRODUCES A LADY AND TWO GENTLEMEN + +Dressed in a plain white shirt waist and an equally plain black cloth +skirt, Miss Hazel Weir, on week days, was merely a unit in the office +force of Harrington & Bush, implement manufacturers. Neither in +personality nor in garb would a casual glance have differentiated her +from the other female units, occupied at various desks. A close +observer might have noticed that she was a bit younger than the others, +possessed of a clear skin and large eyes that seemed to hold all the +shades between purple and gray--eyes, moreover, that had not yet begun +to weaken from long application to clerical work. A business office is +no place for a woman to parade her personal charms. The measure of her +worth there is simply the measure of her efficiency at her machine or +ledgers. So that if any member of the firm had been asked what sort of +a girl Miss Hazel Weir might be, he would probably have replied--and +with utmost truth--that Miss Weir was a capable stenographer. + +But when Saturday evening released Miss Hazel Weir from the plain brick +office building, she became, until she donned her working clothes at +seven A. M. Monday morning, quite a different sort of a person. In +other words, she chucked the plain shirt waist and the plain skirt into +the discard, got into such a dress as a normal girl of twenty-two +delights to put on, and devoted a half hour or so to "doing" her hair. +Which naturally effected a more or less complete transformation, a +transformation that was subjective as well as purely objective. For +Miss Weir then became an entity at which few persons of either sex +failed to take a second glance. + +Upon a certain Saturday night Miss Weir came home from an informal +little party escorted by a young man. They stopped at the front gate. + +"I'll be here at ten sharp," said he. "And you get a good beauty sleep +to-night, Hazel. That confounded office! I hate to think of you +drudging away at it. I wish we were ready to--" + +"Oh, bother the office!" she replied lightly. "I don't think of it out +of office hours. Anyway, I don't mind. It doesn't tire me. I _will_ +be ready at ten _this_ time. Good night, dear." + +"Good night, Hazie," he whispered. "Here's a kiss to dream on." + +Miss Weir broke away from him laughingly, ran along the path, and up +the steps, kissed her finger-tips to the lingering figure by the gate, +and went in. + +"Bed," she soliloquized, "is the place for me right quickly if I'm +going to be up and dressed and have that lunch ready by ten o'clock. I +wish I weren't such a sleepyhead--or else that I weren't a 'pore +wurrkin' gurl.'" + +At which last conceit she laughed softly. Because, for a "pore +wurrkin' gurl," Miss Weir was fairly well content with her lot. She +had no one dependent on her--a state of affairs which, if it +occasionally leads to loneliness, has its compensations. Her salary as +a stenographer amply covered her living expenses, and even permitted +her to put by a few dollars monthly. She had grown up in Granville. +She had her own circle of friends. So that she was comfortable, even +happy, in the present--and Jack Barrow proposed to settle the problem +of her future; with youth's optimism, they two considered it already +settled. Six months more, and there was to be a wedding, a +three-weeks' honeymoon, and a final settling down in a little cottage +on the West Side; everybody in Granville who amounted to anything lived +on the West Side. Then she would have nothing to do but make the home +nest cozy, while Jack kept pace with a real-estate business that was +growing beyond his most sanguine expectations. + +She threw her light wraps over the back of a chair, and, standing +before her dresser, took the multitude of pins out of her hair and +tumbled it, a cloudy black mass, about her shoulders. Occupying the +center of the dresser, in a leaning silver frame, stood a picture of +Jack Barrow. She stood looking at it a minute, smiling absently. It +was spring, and her landlady's daughter had set a bunch of wild flowers +in a jar beside the picture. Hazel picked out a daisy and plucked away +the petals one by one. + +"He loves me--he loves me not--he loves me--" Her lips formed the +words inaudibly, as countless lips have formed them in love's history, +and the last petal fluttered away at "not." + +She smiled. + +"I wonder if that's an omen?" she murmured. "Pshaw! What a silly +idea! I'm going to bed. Good night, Johnny boy." + +She kissed her finger-tips to him again across the rooftops all grimed +with a winter's soot, and within fifteen minutes Miss Weir was sound +asleep. + + +She gave the lie, for once, to the saying that a woman is never ready +at the appointed time by being on the steps a full ten minutes before +Jack Barrow appeared. They walked to the corner and caught a car, and +in the span of half an hour got off at Granville Park. + +The city fathers, hampered in days gone by with lack of municipal +funds, had left the two-hundred-acre square of the park pretty much as +nature made it; that is to say, there was no ornate parking, no attempt +at landscape gardening. Ancient maples spread their crooked arms +untrimmed, standing in haphazard groves. Wherever the greensward +nourished, there grew pink-tipped daisies and kindred flowers of the +wild. It was gutted in the middle with a ravine, the lower end of +which, dammed by an earth embankment, formed a lake with the inevitable +swans and other water-fowl. But, barring the lake and a wide drive +that looped and twined through the timber, Granville Park was a bit of +the old Ontario woodland, and as such afforded a pleasant place to loaf +in the summer months. It was full of secluded nooks, dear to the +hearts of young couples. And upon a Sunday the carriages of the +wealthy affected the smooth drive. + +When Jack Barrow and Hazel had finished their lunch under the trees, in +company with a little group of their acquaintances, Hazel gathered +scraps of bread and cake into a paper bag. + +Barrow whispered to her: "Let's go down and feed the swans. I'd just +as soon be away from the crowd." + +She nodded assent, and they departed hastily lest some of the others +should volunteer their company. It took but a short time to reach the +pond. They found a log close to the water's edge, and, taking a seat +there, tossed morsels to the birds and chattered to each other. + +"Look," said Barrow suddenly; "that's us ten years from now." + +A carriage passed slowly, a solemn, liveried coachman on the box, a +handsome, smooth-shaven man of thirty-five and a richly gowned woman +leaning back and looking out over the pond with bored eyes. And that +last, the half-cynical, half-contemptuous expression on the two faces, +impressed Hazel Weir far more than the showy equipage, the outward +manifestation of wealth. + +"I hope not," she returned impulsively. + +"Hope not!" Barrow echoed. "Those people are worth a barrel of money. +Wouldn't you like your own carriage, and servants, and income enough to +have everything you wanted?" + +"Of course," Hazel answered. "But they don't look as if they really +enjoyed it." + +"Fiddlesticks!" Barrow smilingly retorted. "Everybody enjoys luxury." + +"Well, one should," Hazel admitted. But she still held to the +impression that the couple passing got no such pleasure out of their +material possessions as Jack seemed to think. It was merely an +intuitive divination. She could not have found any basis from which to +argue the point. But she was very sure that she would not have changed +places with the woman in the carriage, and her hand stole out and gave +his a shy little squeeze. + +"Look," she murmured; "here's another of the plutocrats. One of my +esteemed employers, if you please. You'll notice that he's walking and +looking at things just like us ordinary, everyday mortals." + +Barrow glanced past her, and saw a rather tall, middle-aged man, his +hair tinged with gray, a fine-looking man, dressed with exceeding +nicety, even to a flower in his coat lapel, walking slowly along the +path that bordered the pond. He stopped a few yards beyond them, and +stood idly glancing over the smooth stretch of water, his gloved hands +resting on the knob of a silver-mounted cane. + +Presently his gaze wandered to them, and the cool, well-bred stare +gradually gave way to a slightly puzzled expression. He moved a step +or two and seated himself on a bench. Miss Weir became aware that he +was looking at her most of the time as she sat casting the bits of +bread to the swans and ducks. It made her self-conscious. She did not +know why she should be of any particular interest. + +"Let's walk around a little," she suggested. The last of the crumbs +were gone. + +"All right," Barrow assented. "Let's go up the ravine." + +They left the log. Their course up the ravine took them directly past +the gentleman on the bench. And when they came abreast of him, he rose +and lifted his hat at the very slight inclination of Miss Weir's head. + +"How do you do, Miss Weir?" said he. "Quite a pleasant afternoon." + +To the best of Hazel's knowledge, Mr. Andrew Bush was little given to +friendly recognition of his employees, particularly in public. But he +seemed inclined to be talkative; and, as she caught a slightly +inquiring glance at her escort, she made the necessary introduction. +So for a minute or two the three of them stood there exchanging polite +banalities. Then Mr. Bush bowed and passed on. + +"He's one of the biggest guns in Granville, they say," Jack observed. +"I wouldn't mind having some of his business to handle. He started +with nothing, too, according to all accounts. Now, that's what I call +success." + +"Oh, yes, in a business way he's a success," Hazel responded. "But +he's awfully curt most of the time around the office. I wonder what +made him thaw out so to-day?" + +And that question recurred to her mind again in the evening, when Jack +had gone home and she was sitting in her own room. She wheeled her +chair around and took a steady look at herself in the mirror. A woman +may never admit extreme plainness of feature, and she may deprecate her +own fairness, if she be possessed of fairness, but she seldom has any +illusions about one or the other. She knows. Hazel Weir knew that she +was far above the average in point of looks. If she had never taken +stock of herself before, the reflection facing her now was sufficient +to leave no room for doubt on the score of beauty. Her skin was +smooth, delicate in texture, and as delicately tinted. The tan pongee +dress she wore set off her dark hair and expressive, bluish-gray eyes. + +She was smiling at herself just as she had been smiling at Jack Barrow +while they sat on the log and fed the swans. And she made an amiable +grin at the reflection in the glass. But even though Miss Weir was +twenty-two and far from unsophisticated, it did not strike her that the +transition of herself from a demure, business-like office person in +sober black and white to a radiant creature with the potent influences +of love and spring brightening her eyes and lending a veiled caress to +her every supple movement, satisfactorily accounted for the sudden +friendliness of Mr. Andrew Bush. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +HEART, HAND--AND POCKETBOOK + +Miss Weir was unprepared for what subsequently transpired as a result +of that casual encounter with the managing partner of the firm. By the +time she went to work on Monday morning she had almost forgotten the +meeting in Granville Park. And she was only reminded of it when, at +nine o'clock, Mr. Andrew Bush walked through the office, greeting the +force with his usual curt nod and inclusive "good morning" before he +disappeared behind the ground-glass door lettered "Private." With the +weekday he had apparently resumed his business manner. + +Hazel's work consisted largely of dictation from the shipping manager, +letters relating to outgoing consignments of implements. She was rapid +and efficient, and, having reached the zenith of salary paid for such +work, she expected to continue in the same routine until she left +Harrington & Bush for good. + +It was, therefore, something of a surprise to be called into the office +of the managing partner on Tuesday afternoon. Bush's private +stenographer sat at her machine in one corner. + +Mr. Bush turned from his desk at Hazel's entrance. + +"Miss Weir," he said, "I wish you to take some letters." + +Hazel went back for her notebook, wondering mildly why she should be +called upon to shoulder a part of Nelly Morrison's work, and a trifle +dubious at the prospect of facing the rapid-fire dictation Mr. Bush was +said to inflict upon his stenographer now and then. She had the +confidence of long practice, however, and knew that she was equal to +anything in reason that he might give her. + +When she was seated, Bush took up a sheaf of letters, and dictated +replies. Though rapid, his enunciation was perfectly clear, and Hazel +found herself getting his words with greater ease than she had expected. + +"That's all, Miss Weir," he said, when he reached the last letter. +"Bring those in for verification and signature as soon as you can get +them done." + +In the course of time she completed the letters and took them back. +Bush glanced over each, and appended his signature. + +"That's all, Miss Weir," he said politely. "Thank you." + +And Hazel went back to her machine, wondering why she had been +requested to do those letters when Nelly Morrison had nothing better to +do than sit picking at her type faces with a toothpick. + +She learned the significance of it the next morning, however, when the +office boy told her that she was wanted by Mr. Bush. This time when +she entered Nelly Morrison's place was vacant. Bush was going through +his mail. He waved her to a chair. + +"Just a minute," he said. + +Presently he wheeled from the desk and regarded her with disconcerting +frankness--as if he were appraising her, point by point, so to speak. + +"My--ah--dictation to you yesterday was in the nature of a try-out, +Miss Weir," he finally volunteered. "Miss Morrison has asked to be +transferred to our Midland branch. Mr. Allan recommended you. You are +a native of Granville, I understand?" + +"Yes," Hazel answered, wondering what that had to do with the position +Nelly Morrison had vacated. + +"In that case you will not likely be desirous of leaving suddenly," he +went on. "The work will not be hard, but I must have some one +dependable and discreet, and careful to avoid errors. I think you will +manage it very nicely if you--ah--have no objection to giving up the +more general work of the office for this. The salary will be +considerably more." + +"If you consider that my work will be satisfactory," Miss Weir began. + +"I don't think there's any doubt on that score. You have a good record +in the office," he interrupted smilingly, and Hazel observed that he +could be a very agreeable and pleasant-speaking gentleman when he +chose--a manner not altogether in keeping with her former knowledge of +him--and she had been with the firm nearly two years. "Now, let us get +to work and clean up this correspondence." + +Thus her new duties began. There was an air of quiet in the private +office, a greater luxury of appointment, which suited Miss Hazel Weir +to a nicety. The work was no more difficult than she had been +accustomed to doing--a trifle less in volume, and more exacting in +attention to detail, and necessarily more confidential, for Mr. Andrew +Bush had his finger-tips on the pulsing heart of a big business. + +Hazel met Nelly Morrison the next day while on her way home to lunch. + +"Well, how goes the new job?" quoth Miss Morrison. + +"All right so far," Hazel smiled. "Mr. Bush said you were going to +Midland." + +"Leaving for there in the morning," said Nelly. "I've been wanting to +go for a month, but Mr. Bush objected to breaking in a new girl--until +just the other day. I'm sort of sorry to go, too, and I don't suppose +I'll have nearly so good a place. For one thing, I'll not get so much +salary as I had with Mr. Bush. But mamma's living in Midland, and two +of my brothers work there. I'd much rather live at home than room and +live in a trunk. I can have a better time even on less a week." + +"Well, I hope you get along nicely," Hazel proffered. + +"Oh, I will. Leave that to me," Miss Morrison laughed. "By the way, +what do you think of Mr. Bush, anyway? But of course you haven't had +much to do with him yet. You'll find him awfully nice and polite, but, +my, he can be cutting when he gets irritated! I've known him to do +some awfully mean things in a business way. I wouldn't want to get him +down on me. I think he'd hold a grudge forever." + +They walked together until Hazel turned into the street which led to +her boarding place. Nelly Morrison chattered principally of Mr. Bush. +No matter what subject she opened up, she came back to discussion of +her employer. Hazed gathered that she had found him rather exacting, +and also that she was inclined to resent his curt manner. Withal, +Hazel knew Nelly Morrison to be a first-class stenographer, and found +herself wondering how long it would take the managing partner to find +occasion for raking _her_ over the coals. + +As the days passed, she began to wonder whether Miss Morrison had been +quite correct in her summing up of Mr. Andrew Bush. She was not a +great deal in his company, for unless attending to the details of +business Mr. Bush kept himself in a smaller office opening out of the +one where she worked. Occasionally the odor of cigar smoke escaped +therefrom, and in that inner sanctum he received his most important +callers. Whenever he was in Miss Weir's presence, however, he +manifested none of the disagreeable characteristics that Nelly Morrison +had ascribed to him. + +The size of the check which Hazel received in her weekly envelope was +increased far beyond her expectations. Nelly Morrison had drawn twenty +dollars a week. Miss Hazel Weir drew twenty-five--a substantial +increase over what she had received in the shipping department. And +while she wondered a trifle at the voluntary raising of her salary, it +served to make her anxious to competently fill the new position, so +long as she worked for wages. With that extra money there were plenty +of little things she could get for the home she and Jack Barrow had +planned. + +Things moved along in routine channels for two months or more before +Hazel became actively aware that a subtle change was growing manifest +in the ordinary manner of Mr. Andrew Bush. She shrugged her shoulders +at the idea at first. But she was a woman; moreover, a woman of +intelligence, her perceptive faculties naturally keen. + +The first symptom was flowers, dainty bouquets of which began to appear +on his desk. Coincident with this, Mr. Bush evinced an inclination to +drift into talk on subjects nowise related to business. Hazel accepted +the tribute to her sex reluctantly, giving him no encouragement to +overstep the normal bounds of cordiality. She was absolutely sure of +herself and of her love for Jack Barrow. Furthermore, Mr. Andrew Bush, +though well preserved, was drawing close to fifty--and she was +twenty-two. That in itself reassured her. If he had been thirty, Miss +Weir might have felt herself upon dubious ground. He admired her as a +woman. She began to realize that. And no woman ever blames a man for +paying her that compliment, no matter what she may say to the contrary. +Particularly when he does not seek to annoy her by his admiration. + +So long as Mr. Bush confined himself to affable conversation, to sundry +gifts of hothouse flowers, and only allowed his feelings outlet in +certain telltale glances when he thought she could not see. Hazel felt +disinclined to fly from what was at worst a possibility. + +Thus the third month of her tenure drifted by, and beyond the telltale +glances aforesaid, Mr. Bush remained tentatively friendly and nothing +more. Hazel spent her Sundays as she had spent them for a year +past--with Jack Barrow; sometimes rambling afoot in the country or in +the park, sometimes indulging in the luxury of a hired buggy for a +drive. Usually they went alone; occasionally with a party of young +people like themselves. + +But Mr. Bush took her breath away at a time and in a manner totally +unexpected. He finished dictating a batch of letters one afternoon, +and sat tapping on his desk with a pencil. Hazel waited a second or +two, expecting him to continue, her eyes on her notes, and at the +unbroken silence she looked up, to find him staring fixedly at her. +There was no mistaking the expression on his face. Hazel flushed and +shrank back involuntarily. She had hoped to avoid that. It could not +be anything but unpleasant. + +She had small chance to indulge in reflection, for at her first +self-conscious move he reached swiftly and caught her hand. + +"Hazel," he said bluntly, "will you marry me?" + +Miss Weir gasped. Coming without warning, it dumfounded her. And +while her first natural impulse was to answer a blunt "No," she was +flustered, and so took refuge behind a show of dignity. + +"Mr. Bush!" she protested, and tried to release her hand. + +But Mr. Bush had no intention of allowing her to do that. + +"I'm in deadly earnest," he said. "I've loved you ever since that +Sunday I saw you in the park feeding the swans. I want you to be my +wife. Will you?" + +"I'm awfully sorry," Hazel stammered. She was just the least bit +frightened. The man who stared at her with burning eyes and spoke to +her in a voice that quivered with emotion was so different from the +calm, repressed individual she had known as her employer. "Why, +you're----" The thing that was uppermost in her mind, and what she +came near saying, was: "You're old enough to be my father." And beside +him there instantly flashed a vision of Jack Barrow. Of course it was +absurd--even though she appreciated the honor. But she did not finish +the sentence that way. "I don't--oh, it's simply impossible. I +couldn't think of such a thing." + +"Why not?" he asked. "I love you. You know that--you can see it, +can't you?" He leaned a little nearer, and forced her to meet his +gaze. "I can make you happy; I can make you love me. I can give you +all that a woman could ask." + +"Yes, but--" + +He interrupted her quickly. "Perhaps I've surprised and confused you +by my impulsiveness," he continued. "But I've had no chance to meet +you socially. Sitting here in the office, seeing you day after day, +I've had to hold myself in check. And a man only does that so long, +and no longer. Perhaps right now you don't feel as I do, but I can +teach you to feel that way. I can give you everything--money, social +position, everything that's worth having--and love. I'm not an +empty-headed boy. I can make you love me." + +"You couldn't," Hazel answered flatly. There was a note of dominance +in that last statement that jarred on her. Mr. Bush was too sure of +his powers. "And I have no desire to experiment with my feelings as +you suggest--not for all the wealth and social position in the world. +I would have to love a man to think of marrying him--and I do. But you +aren't the man. I appreciate the compliment of your offer, and I'm +sorry to hurt you, but I can't marry you." + +He released her hand. Miss Weir found herself suddenly shaky. Not +that she was afraid, or had any cause for fear, but the nervous tension +somehow relaxed when she finished speaking so frankly. + +His face clouded. "You are engaged?" + +"Yes." + +He got up and stood over her. "To some self-centered cub--some puny +egotist in his twenties, who'll make you a slave to his needs and +whims, and discard you for another woman when you've worn out your +youth and beauty," he cried. "But you won't marry him. I won't let +you!" + +Miss Weir rose. "I think I shall go home," she said steadily. + +"You shall do nothing of the sort! There is no sense in your running +away from me and giving rise to gossip--which will hurt yourself only." + +"I am not running away, but I can't stay here and listen to such things +from you. It's impossible, under the circumstances, for me to continue +working here, so I may as well go now." + +Bush stepped past her and snapped the latch on the office door. "I +shan't permit it," he said passionately. "Girl, you don't seem to +realize what this means to me. I want you--and I'm going to have you!" + +"Please don't be melodramatic, Mr. Bush." + +"Melodramatic! If it is melodrama for a man to show a little genuine +feeling, I'm guilty. But I was never more in earnest in my life. I +want a chance to win you. I value you above any woman I have ever met. +Most women that--" + +"Most women would jump at the chance," Hazel interrupted. "Well, I'm +not most women. I don't consider myself as a marketable commodity, nor +my looks as an aid to driving a good bargain in a matrimonial way. I +simply don't care for you as you would want me to--and I'm very sure I +never would. And, seeing that you do feel that way, it's better that +we shouldn't be thrown together as we are here. That's why I'm going." + +"That is to say, you'll resign because I've told you I care for you and +proposed marriage?" he remarked. + +"Exactly. It's the only thing to do under the circumstances." + +"Give me a chance to show you that I can make you happy," he pleaded. +"Don't leave. Stay here where I can at least see you and speak to you. +I won't annoy you. And you can't tell. After you get over this +surprise you might find yourself liking me better." + +"That's just the trouble," Hazel pointed out. "If I were here you +would be bringing this subject up in spite of yourself. And that can +only cause pain. I can't stay." + +"I think you had better reconsider that," he said; and a peculiar--an +ugly--light crept into his eyes, "unless you desire to lay yourself +open to being the most-talked-of young woman in this town, where you +were born, where all your friends live. Many disagreeable things might +result." + +"That sounds like a threat, Mr. Bush. What do you mean?" + +"I mean just what I say. I will admit that mine is, perhaps, a selfish +passion. If you insist on making me suffer, I shall do as much for +you. I believe in paying all debts in full, even with high interest. +There are two characteristics of mine which may not have come to your +attention: I never stop struggling for what I want. And I never +forgive or forget an injury or an insult." + +"Well?" Hazel was beginning to see a side of Mr. Andrew Bush hitherto +unsuspected. + +"Well?" he repeated. "If you drive me to it, you will find yourself +drawing the finger of gossip. Also, you will find yourself unable to +secure a position in Granville. Also, you may find yourself losing +the--er--regard of this--ah--fortunate individual upon whom you have +bestowed your affections; but you'll never lose mine," he burst out +wildly. "When you get done butting your head against the wall that +will mysteriously rise in your way, I'll be waiting for you. That's +how I love. I've never failed in anything I ever undertook, and I +don't care how I fight, fair or foul, so that I win." + +"This isn't the fifteenth century," Hazel let her indignation flare, +"and I'm not at all afraid of any of the things you mention. Even if +you could possibly bring these things about, it would only make me +despise you, which I'm in a fair way to do now. Even if I weren't +engaged, I'd never think of marrying a man old enough to be my +father--a man whose years haven't given him a sense of either dignity +or decency. Wealth and social position don't modify gray hairs and +advancing age. Your threats are an insult. This isn't the stone age. +Even if it were," she concluded cuttingly, "you'd stand a poor chance +of winning a woman against a man like--well--" She shrugged her +shoulders, but she was thinking of Jack Barrow's broad shoulders, and +the easy way he went up a flight of stairs, three steps at a time. +"Well, any _young_ man." + +With that thrust, Miss Hazel Weir turned to the rack where hung her hat +and coat. She was thoroughly angry, and her employment in that office +ended then and there so far as she was concerned. + +Bush caught her by the shoulders before she took a second step. + +"Gray hairs and advancing age!" he said. "So I strike you as +approaching senility, do I? I'll show you whether I'm the worn-out +specimen you seem to think I am. Do you think I'll give you up just +because I've made you angry? Why, I love you the more for it; it only +makes me the more determined to win you." + +"You can't. I dislike you more every second. Take your hands off me, +please. Be a gentleman--if you can." + +For answer he caught her up close to him, and there was no sign of +decadent force in the grip of his arms. He kissed her; and Hazel, in +blind rage, freed one arm, and struck at him man fashion, her hand +doubled into a small fist. By the grace of chance, the blow landed on +his nose. There was force enough behind it to draw blood. He stood +back and fumbled for his handkerchief. Something that sounded like an +oath escaped him. + +Hazel stared, aghast, astounded. She was not at all sorry; she was +perhaps a trifle ashamed. It seemed unwomanly to strike. But the +humor of the thing appealed to her most strongly of all. In spite of +herself, she smiled as she reached once more for her hat. And this +time Mr. Bush did not attempt to restrain her. + +She breathed a sigh of relief when she had gained the street, and she +did not in the least care if her departure during business hours +excited any curiosity in the main office. Moreover, she was doubly +glad to be away from Bush. The expression on his face as he drew back +and stanched his bleeding nose had momentarily chilled her. + +"He looked perfectly devilish," she told herself. "My, I loathe that +man! He _is_ dangerous. Marry him? The idea!" + +She knew that she must have cut him deeply in a man's tenderest +spot--his self-esteem. But just how well she had gauged the look and +possibilities of Mr. Andrew Bush, Hazel scarcely realized. + +"I won't tell Jack," she reflected. "He'd probably want to thrash him. +And that _would_ stir up a lot of horrid talk. Dear me, that's one +experience I don't want repeated. I wonder if he made court to his +first wife in that high-handed, love-me-or-I'll-beat-you-to-death +fashion?" + +She laughed when she caught herself scrubbing vigorously with her +handkerchief at the place where his lips had touched her cheek. She +was primitive enough in her instincts to feel a trifle glad of having +retaliated in what her training compelled her to consider a "perfectly +hoydenish" manner. But she could not deny that it had proved +wonderfully effective. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +"I DO GIVE AND BEQUEATH" + +When Jack Barrow called again, which happened to be that very evening, +Hazel told him simply that she had left Harrington & Bush, without +entering into any explanation except the general one that she had found +it impossible to get on with Mr. Bush in her new position. And Jack, +being more concerned with her than with her work, gave the matter scant +consideration. + +This was on a Friday. The next forenoon Hazel went downtown. When she +returned, a little before eleven, the maid of all work was putting the +last touches to her room. The girl pointed to an oblong package on a +chair. + +"That came for you a little while ago, Miss Weir," she said. "Mr. +Bush's carriage brought it." + +"Mr. Bush's carriage!" Hazel echoed. + +"Yes'm. Regular swell turnout, with a footman in brown livery. My, +you could see the girls peeking all along the square when it stopped at +our door. It quite flustered the missus." + +The girl lingered a second, curiosity writ large on her countenance. +Plainly she wished to discover what Miss Hazel Weir would be getting in +a package that was delivered in so aristocratic a manner. But Hazel +was in no mood to gratify any one's curiosity. She was angry at the +presumption of Mr. Andrew Bush. It was an excellent way of subjecting +her to remark. And it did not soothe her to recollect that he had +threatened that very thing. + +She drew off her gloves, and, laying aside her hat, picked up a +newspaper, and began to read. The girl, with no excuse for lingering, +reluctantly gathered up her broom and dustpan, and departed. When she +was gone, and not till then, Miss Weir investigated the parcel. + +Roses--two dozen long-stemmed La Frances--filled the room with their +delicate odor when she removed the pasteboard cover. And set edgewise +among the stems she found his card. Miss Weir turned up her small nose. + +"I wonder if he sends these as a sort of peace offering?" she snorted. +"I wonder if a few hours of reflection has made him realize just how +exceedingly caddish he acted? Well, Mr. Bush, I'll return your +unwelcome gift--though they are beautiful flowers." + +And she did forthwith, squandering forty cents on a messenger boy to +deliver them to Mr. Bush at his office. She wished him to labor under +no misapprehension as to her attitude. + +The next day--Sunday--she spent with Jack Barrow on a visit to his +cousin in a near-by town. They parted, as was their custom, at the +door. It was still early in the evening--eight-thirty, or +thereabout--and Hazel went into the parlor on the first floor. Mr. +Stout and one of her boarders sat there chatting, and at Hazel's +entrance the landlady greeted her with a startling bit of news: + +"Evenin', Miss Weir. 'Ave you 'eard about Mr. Bush, pore gentleman?" +Mrs. Stout was very English. + +"Mr. Bush? No. What about him?" Hazel resented Mr. Bush, his name, +and his affairs being brought to her attention at every turn. She +desired nothing so much since that scene in the office as to ignore his +existence. + +"'E was 'urt shockin' bad this awft'noon," Mrs. Stout related. "Out +'orseback ridin', and 'is 'orse ran away with 'im, and fell on 'im. +Fell all of a 'eap, they say. Terrible--terrible! The pore man isn't +expected to live. 'Is back's broke, they say. W'at a pity! Shockin' +accident, indeed." + +Miss Weir voiced perfunctory sympathy, as was expected of her, seeing +that she was an employee of the firm--or had been lately. But close +upon that she escaped to her own room. She did not relish sitting +there discussing Mr. Andrew Bush. Hazel lacked nothing of womanly +sympathy, but he had forfeited that from her. + +Nevertheless she kept thinking of him long after she went to bed. She +was not at all vindictive, and his misfortune, the fact--if the report +were true--that he was facing his end, stirred her pity. She could +guess that he would suffer more than some men; he would rebel bitterly +against anything savoring of extinction. And she reflected that his +love for her was very likely gone by the board now that he was elected +to go the way of all flesh. + +The report of his injury was verified in the morning papers. By +evening it had pretty well passed out of Hazel's mind. She had more +pleasant concerns. Jack Barrow dropped in about six-thirty to ask if +she wanted to go with him to a concert during the week. They were +sitting in the parlor, by a front window, chattering to each other, but +not so engrossed that they failed to notice a carriage drawn by two +splendid grays pull up at the front gate. The footman, in brown +livery, got down and came to the door. Hazel knew the carriage. She +had seen Mr. Andrew Bush abroad in it many a time. She wondered if +there was some further annoyance in store for her, and frowned at the +prospect. + +She heard Mrs. Stout answer the bell in person. There was a low mumble +of voices. Then the landlady appeared in the parlor doorway, the +footman behind her. + +"This is the lady." Mrs. Stout indicated Hazel. "A message for you, +Miss Weir." + +The liveried person bowed and extended an envelope. "I was instructed +to deliver this to you personally," he said, and lingered as if he +looked for further instructions. + +Hazel looked at the envelope. She could not understand why, under the +circumstances, any message should come to her through such a medium. +But there was her name inscribed. She glanced up. Mrs. Stout gazed +past the footman with an air of frank anticipation. Jack also was +looking. But the landlady caught Hazel's glance and backed out the +door, and Hazel opened the letter. + +The note was brief and to the point: + + +MISS WEIR: Mr. Bush, being seriously injured and unable to write, bids +me say that he is very anxious to see you. He sends his carriage to +convey you here. His physicians fear that he will not survive the +night, hence he begs of you to come. Very truly, + +ETHEL B. WATSON, Nurse in Waiting. + + +"The idea! Of course I won't! I wouldn't think of such a thing!" +Hazel exclaimed. + +"Just a second," she said to the footman. + +Over on the parlor mantel lay some sheets of paper and envelopes. She +borrowed a pencil from Barrow and scribbled a brief refusal. The +footman departed with her answer. Hazel turned to find Jack staring +his puzzlement. + +"What did he want?" Barrow asked bluntly. "That was the Bush turnout, +wasn't it?" + +"You heard about Mr. Bush getting hurt, didn't you?" she inquired. + +"Saw it in the paper. Why?" + +"Nothing, except that he is supposed to be dying--and he wanted to see +me. At least--well, read the note," Hazel answered. + +Barrow glanced over the missive and frowned. + +"What do you suppose he wanted to see you for?" he asked. + +"How should I know?" Hazel evaded. + +She felt a reluctance to enter into any explanations. That would +necessitate telling the whole story, and she felt some delicacy about +relating it when the man involved lay near to death. Furthermore, Jack +might misunderstand, might blame her. He was inclined to jealousy on +slight grounds, she had discovered before now. Perhaps that, the +natural desire to avoid anything disagreeable coming up between them, +helped constrain her to silence. + +"Seems funny," he remarked slowly. + +"Oh, let's forget it." Hazel came and sat down on the couch by him. +"I don't know of any reason why he should want to see me. I wouldn't +go merely out of curiosity to find out. It was certainly a peculiar +request for him to make. But that's no reason why we should let it +bother us. If he's really so badly hurt, the chances are he's out of +his head. Don't scowl at that bit of paper so, Johnnie-boy." + +Barrow laughed and kissed her, and the subject was dropped forthwith. +Later they went out for a short walk. In an hour or so Barrow left for +home, promising to have the concert tickets for Thursday night. + +Hazel took the note out of her belt and read it again when she reached +her room. Why should he want to see her? She wondered at the man's +persistence. He had insulted her, according to her view of it--doubly +insulted her with threats and an enforced caress. Perhaps he merely +wanted to beg her pardon; she had heard of men doing such things in +their last moments. But she could not conceive of Mr. Andrew Bush +being sorry for anything he did. Her estimate of him was that his only +regret would be over failure to achieve his own ends. He struck her as +being an individual whose own personal desires were paramount. She had +heard vague stories of his tenacity of purpose, his disregard of +anything and everybody but himself. The gossip she had heard and half +forgotten had been recalled and confirmed by her own recent experience +with him. + +Nevertheless, she considered that particular episode closed. She +believed that she had convinced him of that. And so she could not +grasp the reason for that eleventh-hour summons. But she could see +that a repetition of such incidents might put her in a queer light. +Other folk might begin to wonder and inquire why Mr. Andrew Bush took +such an "interest" in her--a mere stenographer. Well, she told +herself, she did not care--so long as Jack Barrow's ears were not +assailed by talk. She smiled at that, for she could picture the +reception any scandal peddler would get from _him_. + +The next day's papers contained the obituary of Mr. Andrew Bush. He +had died shortly after midnight. And despite the fact that she held no +grudge, Hazel felt a sense of relief. He was powerless to annoy or +persecute her, and she could not escape the conviction that he would +have attempted both had he lived. + +She had now been idle a matter of days. Nearly three months were yet +to elapse before her wedding. She and Barrow had compromised on that +after a deal of discussion. Manlike, he had wished to be married as +soon as she accepted him, and she had held out far a date that would +permit her to accumulate a trousseau according to her means. + +"A girl only gets married once, Johnnie-boy," she had declared. "I +don't want to get married so--so offhand, like going out and buying a +pair of gloves or something. Even if I do love you ever so much." + +She had gained her point after a lot of argument. There had been no +thought then of her leaving Harrington & Bush so abruptly. Jack had +wanted to get the license as soon as he learned that she had thrown up +her job. But she refused to reset the date. They had made plans for +October. There was so sense in altering those plans. + +It seemed scarcely worth while to look for another position. She had +enough money saved to do everything she wanted to do. It was not so +much lack of money, the need to earn, as the monotony of idleness that +irked her. She had acquired the habit of work, and that is a thing not +lightly shaken off. But during that day she gathered together the +different Granville papers, and went carefully over the "want" columns. +Knowing the town as she did, she was enabled to eliminate the unlikely, +undesirable places. Thus by evening she was armed with a list of firms +and individuals requiring a stenographer. And in the morning she +sallied forth. + +Her quest ended with the first place she sought. The fact of two +years' service with the biggest firm in Granville was ample +recommendation; in addition to which the office manager, it developed +in their conversation, had known her father in years gone by. So +before ten o'clock Miss Hazel Weir was entered on the pay-roll of a +furniture-manufacturing house. It was not a permanent position; one of +their girls had been taken ill and was likely to take up her duties +again in six weeks or two months. But that suited Hazel all the +better. She could put in the time usefully, and have a breathing spell +before her wedding. + +At noon she telephoned Jack Barrow that she was at work again, and she +went straight from lunch to the office grind. + +Three days went by. Hazel attended the concert with Jack the evening +of the day Mr. Andrew Bush received ostentatious burial. At ten the +next morning the telephone girl called her. + +"Some one wants you on the phone, Miss Weir," she said. + +Hazel took up the dangling receiver. + +"Hello!" + +"That you, Hazel?" + +She recognized the voice, half guessing it would be he, since no one +but Jack Barrow would be likely to ring her up. + +"Surely. Doesn't it sound like me?" + +"Have you seen the morning papers?" + +"No. What--" + +"Look 'em over. Particularly the _Gazette_." + +The harsh rattle of a receiver slammed back on its hook without even a +"good-by" from him struck her like a slap in the face. She hung up +slowly, and went back to her work. Never since their first meeting, +and they had not been exempt from lovers' quarrels, had Jack Barrow +ever spoken to her like that. Even through the telephone the resentful +note in his voice grated on her and mystified her. + +Something in the papers lay at the bottom of it, but she could +comprehend nothing, absolutely nothing, she told herself hotly, that +should make Jack snarl at her like that. His very manner of conveying +the message was maddening, put her up in arms. + +She was chained to her work--which, despite her agitation, she managed +to wade through without any radical errors--until noon. The +twelve-to-one intermission gave her opportunity to hurry up the street +and buy a _Gazette_. Then, instead of going home to her luncheon, she +entered the nearest restaurant. She wanted a chance to read, more than +food. She did not unfold the paper until she was seated. + +A column heading on the front page caught her eye. The caption ran: +"Andrew Bush Leaves Money to Stenographer." And under it the subhead: +"Wealthy Manufacturer Makes Peculiar Bequest to Miss Hazel Weir." + +The story ran a full column, and had to do with the contents of the +will, made public following his interment. There was a great deal of +matter anent the principal beneficiaries. But that which formed the +basis of the heading was a codicil appended to the will a few hours +before his death, in which he did "give and bequeath to Hazel Weir, +until lately in my employ, the sum of five thousand dollars in +reparation for any wrong I may have done her." + +The _Gazette_ had copied that portion verbatim, and used it as a peg +upon which to hang some adroitly worded speculation as to what manner +of wrong Mr. Andrew Bush could have done Miss Hazel Weir. Mr. Bush was +a widower of ten years' standing. He had no children. There was +plenty of room in his life for romance. And wealthy business men who +wrong pretty stenographers are not such an unfamiliar type. The +_Gazette_ inclined to the yellow side of journalism, and it overlooked +nothing that promised a sensation. + +Hazel stared at the sheet, and her face burned. She could understand +now why Jack Barrow had hung up his receiver with a slam. She could +picture him reading that suggestive article and gritting his teeth. +Her hands clenched till the knuckles stood white under the smooth skin, +and then quite abruptly she got up and left the restaurant even while a +waiter hurried to take her order. If she had been a man, and versed in +profanity, she could have cursed Andrew Bush till his soul shuddered on +its journey through infinite space. Being a woman, she wished only a +quiet place to cry. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AN EXPLANATION DEMANDED + +Hazel's pride came to her rescue before she was half-way home. +Instinctively she had turned to that refuge, where she could lock +herself in her own room and cry her protest against it all. But she +had done no wrong, nothing of which to be ashamed, and when the first +shock of the news article wore off, she threw up her head and refused +to consider what the world at large might think. So she went back to +the office at one o'clock and took up her work. Long before evening +she sensed that others had read the _Gazette_. Not that any one +mentioned it, but sundry curious glances made her painfully aware of +the fact. + +Mrs. Stout evidently was on the watch, for she appeared in the hall +almost as the front door closed behind Hazel. + +"How de do, Miss Weir?" she greeted. "My, but you fell into quite a +bit of a fortune, ain't you?" + +"I only know what the papers say," Hazel returned coldly. + +"Just fancy! You didn't know nothing about it?" Mrs. Stout regarded +her with frank curiosity. "There's been two or three gentlemen from +the papers 'ere to-day awskin' for you. Such terrible fellows to quiz +one, they are." + +"Well?" Hazel filled in the pause. + +"Oh, I just thought I'd tell you," Mrs. Stout observed, "that they got +precious little out o' _me_. I ain't the talkin' kind. I told 'em +nothink whatever, you may be sure." + +"They're perfectly welcome to learn all that can be learned about me," +Hazel returned quietly. "I don't like newspaper notoriety, but I can't +muzzle the papers, and it's easy for them to get my whole history if +they want it." + +She was on the stairs when she finished speaking. She had just reached +the first landing when she heard the telephone bell, and a second or +two later the land-lady called: + +"Oh, Miss Weir! Telephone." + +Barrow's voice hailed her over the line. + +"I'll be out by seven," said he. "We had better take a walk. We can't +talk in the parlor; there'll probably be a lot of old tabbies there out +of sheer curiosity." + +"All right," Hazel agreed, and hung up. There were one or two +questions she would have liked to ask, but she knew that eager ears +were close by, taking in every word. Anyway, it was better to wait +until she saw him. + +She dressed herself. Unconsciously the truly feminine asserted its +dominance--the woman anxious to please and propitiate her lover. She +put on a dainty summer dross, rearranged her hair, powdered away all +trace of the tears that insisted on coming as soon as she reached the +sanctuary of her own room. And then she watched for Jack from a window +that commanded the street. She had eaten nothing since morning, and +the dinner bell rang unheeded. It did not occur to her that she was +hungry; her brain was engrossed with other matters more important by +far than food. + +Barrow appeared at last. She went down to meet him before he rang the +bell. Just behind him came a tall man in a gray suit. This individual +turned in at the gate, bestowing a nod upon Barrow and a keen glance at +her as he passed. + +"That's Grinell, from the _Times_," Barrow muttered sourly. "Come on; +let's get away from here. I suppose he's after you for an interview. +Everybody in Granville's talking about that legacy, it seems to me." + +Hazel turned in beside him silently. Right at the start she found +herself resenting Barrow's tone, his manner. She had done nothing to +warrant suspicion from him. But she loved him, and she hoped she could +convince him that it was no more than a passing unpleasantness, for +which she was nowise to blame. + +"Hang it!" Barrow growled, before they had traversed the first block. +"Here comes Grinell! I suppose that old cat of a landlady pointed us +out. No dodging him now." + +"There's no earthly reason why I should dodge him, as you put it," +Hazel replied stiffly. "I'm not an escaped criminal." + +Barrow shrugged his shoulders in a way that made Hazel bring her teeth +together and want to shake him. + +Grinell by then was hurrying up with long strides. Hat in hand, he +bowed to her. "Miss Hazel Weir, I believe?" he interrogated. + +"Yes," she confirmed. + +"I'm on the _Times_, Miss Weir," Grinell went straight to the business +in hand. "You are aware, I presume, that Mr. Andrew Bush willed you a +sum of money under rather peculiar conditions--that is, the bequest was +worded in a peculiar way. Probably you have seen a reference to it in +the papers. It has caused a great deal of interest. The _Times_ would +be pleased to have a statement from you which will tend to set at rest +the curiosity of the public. Some of the other papers have indulged in +unpleasant innuendo. We would be pleased to publish your side of the +matter. It would be an excellent way for you to quiet the nasty rumors +that are going the rounds." + +"I have no statement to make," Hazel said coolly. "I am not in the +least concerned with what the papers print or what the people say. I +absolutely refuse to discuss the matter." + +Grinell continued to point out--with the persistence and persuasive +logic of a good newspaper man bent on learning what his paper wants to +know--the desirability of her giving forth a statement. And in the +midst of his argument Hazel bade him a curt "good evening" and walked +on. Barrow kept step with her. Grinell gave it up for a bad job +evidently, for he turned back. + +They walked five blocks without a word. Hazel glanced at Barrow now +and then, and observed with an uncomfortable sinking of her heart that +he was sullen, openly resentful, suspicious. + +"Johnnie-boy," she said suddenly, "don't look so cross. Surely you +don't blame me because Mr. Bush wills me a sum of money in a way that +makes people wonder?" + +"I can't understand it at all," he said slowly. "It's very +peculiar--and deucedly unpleasant. Why should he leave you money at +all? And why should he word the will as he did? What wrong did he +ever do you?" + +"None," Hazel answered shortly. His tone wounded her, cut her deep, so +eloquent was it of distrust. "The only wrong he has done me lies in +willing me that money as he did." + +"But there's an explanation for that," Barrow declared moodily. +"There's a key to the mystery, and if anybody has it you have. What is +it?" + +"Jack," Hazel pleaded, "don't take that tone with me. I can't stand +it--I won't. I'm not a little child to be scolded and browbeaten. +This morning when you telephoned you were almost insulting, and it hurt +me dreadfully. You're angry now, and suspicious. You seem to think I +must have done some dreadful thing. I know what you're thinking. The +_Gazette_ hinted at some 'affair' between me and Mr. Bush; that +possibly that was a sort of left-handed reparation for ruining me. If +that didn't make me angry, it would amuse me--it's so absurd. Haven't +you any faith in me at all? I haven't done anything to be ashamed of. +I've got nothing to conceal." + +"Don't conceal it, then," Barrow muttered sulkily. "I've got a right +to know whatever there is to know if I'm going to marry you. You don't +seem to have any idea what this sort of talk that's going around means +to a man." + +Hazel stopped short and faced him. Her heart pounded sickeningly, and +hurt pride and rising anger choked her for an instant. But she managed +to speak calmly, perhaps with added calmness by reason of the struggle +she was compelled to make for self-control. + +"If you are going to marry me," she repeated, "you have got a right to +know all there is to know. Have I refused to explain? I haven't had +much chance to explain yet. Have I refused to tell you anything? If +you ever thought of anybody beside yourself, you might be asking +yourself how all this talk would affect a girl like me. And, besides, +I think from your manner that you've already condemned me--for what? +Would any reasonable explanation make an impression on you in your +present frame of mind? I don't want to marry you if you can't trust +me. Why, I couldn't--I _wouldn't_--marry you any time, or any place, +under those conditions, no matter how much I may foolishly care for +you." + +"There's just one thing, Hazel," Barrow persisted stubbornly. "There +must have been something between you and Bush. He sent flowers to you, +and I myself saw when he was hurt he sent his carriage to bring you to +his house. And then he leaves you this money. There was something +between you, and I want to know what it was. You're not helping +yourself by getting on your dignity and talking about my not trusting +you instead of explaining these things." + +"A short time ago," Hazel told him quietly, "Mr. Bush asked me to marry +him. I refused, of course. He--" + +"You refused!" Barrow interrupted cynically. "Most girls would have +jumped at the chance." + +"Jack!" she protested. + +"Well," Barrow defended, "he was almost a millionaire, and I've got +nothing but my hands and my brain. But suppose you did refuse him. +How does that account for the five thousand dollars?" + +"I think," Hazel flung back passionately, "I'll let you find that out +for yourself. You've said enough now to make me hate you almost. Your +very manner's an insult." + +"If you don't like my manner--" Barrow retorted stormily. Then he cut +his sentence in two, and glared at her. Her eyes glistened with +slow-welling tears, and she bit nervously at her under Up. Barrow +shrugged his shoulders. The twin devils of jealousy and distrust were +riding him hard, and it flashed over Hazel that in his mind she was +prejudged, and that her explanation, if she made it, would only add +fuel to the flame. Moreover, she stood in open rebellion at being, so +to speak, put on the rack. + +She turned abruptly and left him. What did it matter, anyway? She was +too proud to plead, and it was worse than useless to explain. + +Even so, womanlike, she listened, expecting to hear Jack's step +hurrying up behind. She could not imagine him letting her go like +that. But he did not come, and when, at a distance of two blocks, she +stole a backward glance, he had disappeared. + +She returned to the boarding-house. The parlor door stood wide, and +the curious, quickly averted glance of a girl she knew sent her +quivering up to her room. Safe in that refuge, she sat down by the +window, with her chin on her palms, struggling with the impulse to cry, +protesting with all her young strength against the bitterness that had +come to her through no fault of her own. There was only one cheerful +gleam. She loved Jack Barrow. She believed that he loved her, and she +could not believe--she could not conceive--him capable of keeping +aloof, obdurate and unforgiving, once he got out of the black mood he +was in. Then she could snuggle up close to him and tell him how and +why Mr. Andrew Bush had struck at her from his deathbed. + +She was still sitting by the window, watching the yellow crimson of the +sunset, when some one rapped at her door. A uniformed messenger boy +greeted her when she opened it: + +"Package for Miss Hazel Weir." + +She signed his delivery sheet. The address on the package was in +Jack's handwriting. A box of chocolates, or some little peace +offering, maybe. That was like Jack when he was sorry for anything. +They had quarreled before--over trifles, too. + +She opened it hastily. A swift heart sinking followed. In the small +cardboard box rested a folded scarf, and thrust in it a small gold +stickpin--the only thing she had ever given Jack Barrow. There was no +message. She needed none to understand. + +The sparkle of the small diamond on her finger drew her gaze. She +worked his ring over the knuckle, and dropped it on the dresser, where +the face in the silver frame smiled up at her. She stared at the +picture for one long minute fixedly, with unchanging expression, and +suddenly she swept it from the dresser with a savage sweep of her hand, +dashed it on the floor, and stamped it shapeless with her slippered +heel. + +"Oh, oh!" she gasped. "I hate you--I hate you! I despise you!" + +And then she flung herself across the bed and sobbed hysterically into +a pillow. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE WAY OF THE WORLD AT LARGE + +Through the night Hazel dozed fitfully, waking out of uneasy sleep to +lie staring, wide-eyed, into the dark, every nerve in her body taut, +her mind abnormally active. She tried to accept things +philosophically, but her philosophy failed. There was a hurt, the pain +of which she could not ease by any mental process. Grief and anger by +turns mastered her, and at daybreak she rose, heavy-lidded and +physically weary. + +The first thing upon which her gaze alighted was the crumpled photo in +its shattered frame; and, sitting on the side of her bed, she laughed +at the sudden fury in which she had destroyed it; but there was no +mirth in her laughter. + +"'Would we not shatter it to little bits--and then,'" she murmured. +"No, Mr. John Barrow, I don't believe I'd want to mold you nearer to my +heart's desire. Not after yesterday evening. There's such a thing as +being hurt so badly that one finally gets numb; and one always shrinks +from anything that can deliver such a hurt. Well, it's another day. +And there'll be lots of other days, I suppose." + +She gathered up the bits of broken glass and the bent frame, and put +them in a drawer, dressed herself, and went down to breakfast. She was +too deeply engrossed in her own troubles to notice or care whether any +subtle change was becoming manifest in the attitude of her fellow +boarders. The worst, she felt sure, had already overtaken her. In +reaction to the sensitive, shrinking mood of the previous day, a spirit +of defiance had taken possession of her. Figuratively she declared +that the world could go to the devil, and squared her shoulders with +the declaration. + +She had a little time to spare, and that time she devoted to making up +a package of Barrow's ring and a few other trinkets which he had given +her. This she addressed to his office and posted while on her way to +work. + +She got through the day somehow, struggling against thoughts that would +persist in creeping into her mind and stirring up emotions that she was +determined to hold in check. Work, she knew, was her only salvation. +If she sat idle, thinking, the tears would come in spite of her, and a +horrible, choky feeling in her throat. She set her teeth and thumped +away at her machine, grimly vowing that Jack Barrow nor any other man +should make her heart ache for long. + +And so she got through the week. Saturday evening came, and she went +home, dreading Sunday's idleness, with its memories. The people at +Mrs. Stout's establishment, she plainly saw, were growing a trifle shy +of her. She had never been on terms of intimacy with any of them +during her stay there, hence their attitude troubled little after the +first supersensitiveness wore off. But her own friends, girls with +whom she had played in the pinafore-and-pigtail stages of her youth, +young men who had paid court to her until Jack Barrow monopolized +her--she did not know how they stood. She had seen none of them since +Bush launched his last bolt. Barrow she had passed on the street just +once, and when he lifted his hat distantly, she looked straight ahead, +and ignored him. Whether she hurt him as much as she did herself by +the cut direct would be hard to say. + +On Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons ordinarily from two to a +dozen girl friends called her up at the boarding-house, or dropped in +by ones and twos to chat a while, tease her about Jack, or plan some +mild frivolity. Hazel went home, wondering if they, too, would stand +aloof. + +When Sunday noon arrived, and the phone had failed to call her once, +and not one of all her friends had dropped in, Hazel twisted her chair +so that she could stare at the image of herself in the mirror. + +"You're in a fair way to become a pariah, it seems," she said bitterly. +"What have you done, I wonder, that you've lost your lover, and that +Alice and May and Hortense and all the rest of them keep away from you? +Nothing--not a thing--except that your looks attracted a man, and the +man threw stones when he couldn't have his way. Oh, well, what's the +difference? You've got two good hands, and you're not afraid of work." + +She walked out to Granville Park after luncheon, and found a seat on a +shaded bench beside the lake. People passed and repassed--couples, +youngsters, old people, children. It made her lonely beyond measure. +She had never been isolated among her own kind before. She could not +remember a time when she had gone to Granville Park by herself. But +she was learning fast to stand on her own feet. + +A group of young people came sauntering along the path. Hazel looked +up as they neared her, chattering to each other. Maud Steele and Bud +Wells, and--why, she knew every one of the party. They were swinging +an empty picnic basket, and laughing at everything and nothing. Hazel +caught her breath as they came abreast, not over ten feet away. The +three young men raised their hats self-consciously. + +"Hello, Hazel!" the girl said. + +But they passed on. It seemed to Hazel that they quickened their pace +a trifle. It made her grit her teeth in resentful anger. Ten minutes +later she left the park and caught a car home. Once in her room she +broke down. + +"Oh, I'll go mad if I stay here and this sort of thing goes on!" she +cried forlornly. + +A sudden thought struck her. + +"Why _should_ I stay here?" she said aloud. "Why? What's to keep me +here? I can make my living anywhere." + +"But, no," she asserted passionately, "I won't run away. That would be +running away, and I haven't anything to be ashamed of. I will _not_ +run." + +Still the idea kept recurring to her. It promised relief from the hurt +of averted faces and coolness where she had a right to expect sympathy +and friendship. She had never been more than two hundred miles from +Granville in her life. But she knew that a vast, rich land spread +south and west. She was human and thoroughly feminine; loneliness +appalled her, and she had never suffered as Granville at large was +making her suffer. + +The legal notice of the bequest was mailed to her. She tore up the +letter and threw it in the fire as if it were some poisonous thing. +The idea of accepting his money stirred her to a perfect frenzy. That +was piling it up. + +All during the next week she worked at her machine in the office of the +furniture company, keeping strictly to herself, doing her work +impassively, efficiently, betraying no sign of the feelings that +sometimes rose up, the despairing protest and angry rebellion against +the dubious position she was in through no fault of her own. She swore +she would not leave Granville, and it galled her to stay. It was a +losing fight, and she knew it even if she did not admit the fact. If +she could have poured the whole miserable tale into some sympathetic +ear she would have felt better, and each day would have seemed less +hard. But there was no such ear. Her friends kept away. + +Saturday of the second week her pay envelope contained a brief notice +that the firm no longer required her services. There was no +explanation, only perfunctory regrets; and, truth to tell, Hazel cared +little to know the real cause. Any one of a number of reasons might +have been sufficient. But she realized how those who knew her would +take it, what cause they would ascribe. It did not matter, though. +The very worst, she reasoned, could not be so bad as what had already +happened--could be no more disagreeable than the things she had endured +in the past two weeks. Losing a position was a trifle. But it set her +thinking again. + +"It doesn't seem to be a case of flight," she reflected on her way +home, "so much as a case of being frozen out, compelled to go. I can't +stay here and be idle. I have to work in order to live. Well, I'm not +gone yet." + +She stopped at a news stand and bought the evening papers. Up in the +top rack of the stand the big heads of an assorted lot of Western +papers caught her eye. She bought two or three on the impulse of the +moment, without any definite purpose except to look them over out of +mere curiosity. With these tucked under her arm, she turned into the +boarding-house gate, ran up the steps, and, upon opening the door, her +ears were gladdened by the first friendly voice she had heard--it +seemed to her--in ages, a voice withal that she had least expected to +hear. A short, plump woman rushed out of the parlor, and precipitated +herself bodily upon Hazel. + +"Kitty Ryan! Where in the wide, wide world did you come from?" Hazel +cried. + +"From the United States and everywhere," Miss Ryan replied. "Take me +up to your room, dear, where we can talk our heads off. + +"And, furthermore, Hazie, I'll be pleased to have you address me as +Mrs. Brooks, my dear young woman," the plump lady laughed, as she +settled herself in a chair in Hazel's room. + +"So you're married?" Hazel said. + +"I am that," Mrs. Kitty responded emphatically, "to the best boy that +ever drew breath. And so should you be, dear girl. I don't see how +you've escaped so long--a good-looking girl like you. The boys were +always crazy after you. There's nothing like having a good man to take +care of you, dear." + +"Heaven save me from them!" Hazel answered bitterly. "If you've got a +good one, you're lucky. I can't see them as anything but +self-centered, arrogant, treacherous brutes." + +"Lord bless us--it's worse than I thought!" Kitty jumped up and threw +her arms around Hazel. "There, there--don't waste a tear on them. I +know all about it. I came over to see you just as soon as some of the +girls--nasty little cats they are; a woman's always meaner than a man, +dear--just as soon as they gave me an inkling of how things were going +with you. Pshaw! The world's full of good, decent fellows--and you've +got one coming." + +"I hope not," Hazel protested. + +"Oh, yes, you have," Mrs. Brooks smilingly assured her. "A woman +without a man is only half a human being, anyway, you know--and vice +versa. I know. We can cuss the men all we want to, my dear, and some +of us unfortunately have a nasty experience with one now and then. But +we can't get away from the fundamental laws of being." + +"If you'd had my experience of the last two weeks you'd sing a +different tune," Hazel vehemently declared. "I hate--I--" + +And then she gave way, and indulged in the luxury of turning herself +loose on Kitty's shoulder. Presently she was able to wipe her eyes and +relate the whole story from the Sunday Mr. Bush stopped and spoke to +her in the park down to that evening. + +Kitty nodded understandingly. "But the girls have handed it to you +worse than the men, Hazel," she observed sagely. "Jack Barrow was just +plain crazy jealous, and a man like that can't help acting as he did. +You're really fortunate, I think, because you'd not be really happy +with a man like that. But the girls that you and I grew up with--they +should have stood by you, knowing you as they did; yet you see they +were ready to think the worst of you. They nearly always do when +there's a man in the case. That's a weakness of our sex, dear. My, +what a vindictive old Turk that Bush must have been! Well, you aren't +working. Come and stay with me. Hubby's got a two-year contract with +the World Advertising Company. We'll be located here that long at +least. Come and stay with us. We'll show these little-minded folk a +thing or two. Leave it to us." + +"Oh, no, I couldn't think of that, Kitty!" Hazel faltered. "You know +I'd love to, and it's awfully good of you, but I think I'm just about +ready to go away from Granville." + +"Well, come and stop with us till you do go," Kitty insisted. "We are +going to take a furnished cottage for a while. Though, between you and +me, dear, knowing people as I do, I can't blame you for wanting to be +where their nasty tongues can't wound you." + +But Hazel was obdurate. She would not inflict herself on the one +friend she had left. And Kitty, after a short talk, berated her +affectionately for her independence, and rose to go. + +"For," said she, "I didn't get hold of this thing till Addie Horton +called at the hotel this afternoon, and I didn't stop to think that it +was near teatime, but came straight here. Jimmie'll think I've eloped. +So ta-ta. I'll come out to-morrow about two. I have to confab with a +house agent in the forenoon. By-by." + +Hazel sat down and actually smiled when Kitty was gone. Somehow a +grievous burden had fallen off her mind. Likewise, by some +psychological quirk, the idea of leaving Granville and making her home +elsewhere no longer struck her as running away under fire. She did not +wish to subject Kitty Brooks to the difficulties, the embarrassment +that might arise from having her as a guest; but the mere fact that +Kitty stood stanchly by her made the world seem less harsh and dreary, +made it seem as if she had, in a measure, justified herself. She felt +that she could adventure forth among strangers in a strange country +with a better heart, knowing that Kitty Brooks would put a swift +quietus on any gossip that came her way. + +So that Hazel went down to the dining-room light-heartedly, and when +the meal was finished came back and fell to reading her papers. The +first of the Western papers was a Vancouver _World_. In a real-estate +man's half-page she found a diminutive sketch plan of the city on the +shores of Burrard Inlet, Canada's principal outpost on the far Pacific. + +"It's quite a big place," she murmured absently. "One would be far +enough away there, goodness knows." + +Then she turned to the "Help Wanted" advertisements. The thing which +impressed her quickly and most vividly was the dearth of demand for +clerks and stenographers, and the repeated calls for domestic help and +such. Domestic service she shrank from except as a last resort. And +down near the bottom of the column she happened on an inquiry for a +school-teacher, female preferred, in an out-of-the-way district in the +interior of the province. + +"Now, that--" Hazel thought. + +She had a second-class certificate tucked away among her belongings. +Originally it had been her intention to teach, and she had done so one +term in a backwoods school when she was eighteen. With the ending of +the term she had returned to Granville, studied that winter, and got +her second certificate; but at the same time she had taken a +business-college course, and the following June found her clacking a +typewriter at nine dollars a week. And her teacher's diploma had +remained in the bottom of her trunk ever since. + +"I could teach, I suppose, by rubbing up a little on one or two +subjects as I went along," she reflected. "I wonder now--" + +What she wondered was how much salary she could expect, and she took up +the paper again, and looked carefully for other advertisements calling +for teachers. In the _World_ and in a Winnipeg paper she found one or +two vacancies to fill out the fall term, and gathered that Western +schools paid from fifty to sixty dollars a month for "schoolma'ams" +with certificates such as she held. + +"Why not?" she asked herself. "I've got two resources. If I can't get +office work I can teach. I can do _anything_ if I have to. And it's +far enough away, in all conscience--all of twenty-five hundred miles." + +Unaccountably, since Kitty Brooks' visit, she found herself itching to +turn her back on Granville and its unpleasant associations. She did +not attempt to analyze the feeling. Strange lands, and most of all the +West, held alluring promise. She sat in her rocker, and could not help +but dream of places where people were a little broader gauge, a little +less prone to narrow, conventional judgments. Other people had done as +she proposed doing--cut loose from their established environment, and +made a fresh start in countries where none knew or cared whence they +came or who they were. Why not she? One thing was certain: Granville, +for all she had been born there, and grown to womanhood there, was now +no place for her. The very people who knew her best would make her +suffer most. + +She spent that evening going thoroughly over the papers and writing +letters to various school boards, taking a chance at one or two she +found in the Manitoba paper, but centering her hopes on the country +west of the Rockies. Her letters finished, she took stock of her +resources--verified them, rather, for she had not so much money that +she did not know almost where she stood. Her savings in the bank +amounted to three hundred odd dollars, and cash in hand brought the sum +to a total of three hundred and sixty-five. At any rate, she had +sufficient to insure her living for quite a long time. And she went to +bed feeling better than she had felt for two weeks. + +Kitty Brooks came again the next afternoon, and, being a young woman of +wide experience and good sense, made no further attempt to influence +Hazel one way or the other. + +"I hate to see you go, though," she remarked truthfully. "But you'll +like the West--if it happens that you go there. You'll like it better +than the East; there's a different sort of spirit among the people. +I've traveled over some of it, and if Jimmie's business permitted we'd +both like to live there. And--getting down to strictly practical +things--a girl can make a much better living there. Wages are high. +And--who knows?--you might capture a cattle king." + +Hazel shrugged her shoulders, and Mrs. Kitty forbore teasing. After +that they gossiped and compared notes covering the two years since they +had met until it was time for Kitty to go home. + +Very shortly thereafter--almost, it seemed, by return mail--Hazel got +replies to her letters of inquiry. The fact that each and every one +seemed bent on securing her services astonished her. + +"Schoolma'ams must certainly be scarce out there," she told herself. +"This is an embarrassment of riches. I'm going somewhere, but which +place shall it be?" + +But the reply from Cariboo Meadows, B. C., the first place she had +thought of, decided her. The member of the school board who replied +held forth the natural beauty of the country as much as he did the +advantages of the position. The thing that perhaps made the strongest +appeal to Hazel was a little kodak print inclosed in the letter, +showing the schoolhouse. + +The building itself was primitive enough, of logs, with a pole-and-sod +roof. But it was the huge background, the timbered mountains rising to +snow-clad heights against a cloudless sky, that attracted her. She had +never seen a greater height of land than the rolling hills of Ontario. +Here was a frontier, big and new and raw, holding out to her as she +stared at the print a promise--of what? She did not know. Adventure? +If she desired adventure, it was purely a subconscious desire. But she +had lived in a rut a long time without realizing it more than vaguely, +and there was something in her nature that responded instantly when she +contemplated journeying alone into a far country. She found herself +hungering for change, for a measure of freedom from petty restraints, +for elbow-room in the wide spaces, where one's neighbor might be ten or +forty miles away. She knew nothing whatever of such a life, but she +could feel a certain envy of those who led it. + +She sat for a long time looking at the picture, thinking. Here was the +concrete, visible presentment of something that drew her strongly. She +found an atlas, and looked up Cariboo Meadows on the map. It was not +to be found, and Hazel judged it to be a purely local name. But the +letter told her that she would have to stage it a hundred and +sixty-five miles north from Ashcroft, B. C., where the writer would +meet her and drive her to the Meadows. She located the stage-line +terminal on the map, and ran her forefinger over the route. Mountain +and lake and stream lined and dotted and criss-crossed the province +from end to end of its seven-hundred-mile length. Back of where +Cariboo Meadows should be three or four mining camps snuggled high in +the mountains. + +"What a country!" she whispered. "It's wild; really, truly wild; and +everything I've ever seen has been tamed and smoothed down, and made +eminently respectable and conventional long ago. That's the place. +That's where I'm going, and I'm going it blind. I'm not going to tell +any one--not even Kitty--until, like a bear, I've gone over the +mountain to see what I can see." + +Within an hour of that Miss Hazel Weir had written to accept the terms +offered by the Cariboo Meadow school district, and was busily packing +her trunk. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +CARIBOO MEADOWS + +A tall man, sunburned, slow-speaking, met Hazel at Soda Creek, the end +of her stage journey, introducing himself as Jim Briggs. + +"Pretty tiresome trip, ain't it?" he observed. "You'll have a chance +to rest decent to-night, and I got a team uh bays that'll yank yuh to +the Meadows in four hours 'n' a half. My wife'll be plumb tickled to +have yuh. They ain't much more'n half a dozen white women in ten miles +uh the Meadows. We keep a boardin'-house. Hope you'll like the +country." + +That was a lengthy speech for Jim Briggs, as Hazel discovered when she +rolled out of Soda Creek behind the "team uh bays." His conversation +was decidedly monosyllabic. But he could drive, if he was no talker, +and his team could travel. The road, albeit rough in spots, a mere +track through timber and little gems of open where the yellowing grass +waved knee-high, and over hills which sloped to deep cañons lined with +pine and spruce, seemed short enough. And so by eleven o'clock Hazel +found herself at Cariboo Meadows. + +"Schoolhouse's over yonder." Briggs pointed out the place--an +unnecessary guidance, for Hazel had already marked the building set off +by itself and fortified with a tall flagpole. "And here's where we +live. Kinda out uh the world, but blame good place to live." + +Hazel did like the place. Her first impression was thankfulness that +her lot had been cast in such a spot. But it was largely because of +the surroundings, essentially primitive, the clean air, guiltless of +smoke taint, the aromatic odors from the forest that ranged for +unending miles on every hand. For the first time in her life, she was +beyond hearing of the clang of street cars, the roar of traffic, the +dirt and smells of a city. It seemed good. She had no regrets, no +longing to be back. There was a pain sometimes, when in spite of +herself she would fall to thinking of Jack Barrow. But that she looked +upon as a closed chapter. He had hurt her where a woman can be most +deeply wounded--in her pride and her affections--and the hurt was +dulled by the smoldering resentment that thinking of him always fanned +to a flame. Miss Hazel Weir was neither meek nor mild, even if her +environment had bred in her a repression that had become second nature. + +So with the charm of the wild land fresh upon her, she took kindly to +Cariboo Meadows. The immediate, disagreeable past bade fair to become +as remote in reality as the distance made it seem. Surely no ghosts +would walk here to make people look askance at her. + +Her first afternoon she spent loafing on the porch of the Briggs +domicile, within which Mrs. Briggs, a fat, good-natured person of +forty, toiled at her cooking for the "boarders," and kept a brood of +five tumultuous youngsters in order--the combined tasks leaving her +scant time to entertain her newly arrived guest. From the vantage +ground of the porch Hazel got her first glimpse of the turns life +occasionally takes when there is no policeman just around the corner. + +Cariboo Meadows, as a town, was simply a double row of buildings facing +each other across a wagon road. Two stores, a blacksmith shop, a feed +stable, certain other nondescript buildings, and a few dwellings, +mostly of logs, was all. Probably not more than a total of fifty souls +made permanent residence there. But the teams of ranchers stood in the +street, and a few saddled cow ponies whose listlessness was mostly +assumed. Before one of the general stores a prospector fussed with a +string of pack horses. Directly opposite Briggs' boarding-house stood +a building labeled "Regent Hotel." Hazel could envisage it all with a +half turn of her head. + +From this hotel there presently issued a young man dressed in the +ordinary costume of the country--wide hat, flannel shirt, overalls, +boots. He sat down on a box close by the hotel entrance. In a few +minutes another came forth. He walked past the first a few steps, +stopped, and said something. Hazel could not hear the words. The +first man was filling a pipe. Apparently he made no reply; at least, +he did not trouble to look up. But she saw his shoulders lift in a +shrug. Then he who had passed turned square about and spoke again, +this time lifting his voice a trifle. The young fellow sitting on the +box instantly became galvanized into action. He flung out an oath that +carried across the street and made Hazel's ears burn. At the same time +he leaped from his seat straight at the other man. Hazel saw it quite +distinctly, saw him who jumped dodge a vicious blow and close with the +other; and saw, moreover, something which amazed her. For the young +fellow swayed with his adversary a second or two, then lifted him +bodily off his feet almost to the level of his head, and slammed him +against the hotel wall with a sudden twist. She heard the thump of the +body on the logs. For an instant she thought him about to jump with +his booted feet on the prostrate form, and involuntarily she held her +breath. But he stepped back, and when the other scrambled up, he +side-stepped the first rush, and knocked the man down again with a blow +of his fist. This time he stayed down. Then other men--three or four +of them--came out of the hotel, stood uncertainly a few seconds, and +Hazel heard the young fellow say: + +"Better take that fool in and bring him to. If he's still hungry for +trouble, I'll be right handy. I wonder how many more of you fellers +I'll have to lick before you'll get wise enough not to start things you +can't stop?" + +They supported the unconscious man through the doorway; the young +fellow resumed his seat on the box, also his pipe filling. + +"Roarin' Bill's goin' to get himself killed one uh these days." + +Hazel started, but it was only Jim Briggs in the doorway beside her. + +"I guess you ain't much used to seein' that sort of exhibition where +you come from, Miss Weir," Briggs' wife put in over his shoulder. "My +land, it's disgustin'--men fightin' in the street where everybody can +see 'em. Thank goodness, it don't happen very often. 'Specially when +Bill Wagstaff ain't around. You ain't shocked, are you, honey?" + +"Why, I didn't have time to be shocked," Hazel laughed. "It was done +so quickly." + +"If them fellers would leave Bill alone," Briggs remarked, "there +wouldn't be no fight. But he goes off like a hair-trigger gun, and +he'd scrap a dozen quick as one. I'm lookin' to see his finish one uh +these days." + +"What a name!" Hazel observed, caught by the appellation Briggs had +first used. "Is that Roaring Bill over there?" + +"That's him--Roarin' Bill Wagstaff," Briggs answered. "If he takes a +few drinks, you'll find out to-night how he got the name. Sings--just +like a bull moose--hear him all over town. Probably whip two or three +men before mornin'." + +His spouse calling him at that moment, Briggs detailed no more +information about Roaring Bill. And Hazel sat looking across the way +with considerable interest at the specimen of a type which hitherto she +had encountered in the pages of fiction--a fighting man, what the West +called a "bad actor." She had, however, no wish for closer study of +that particular type. The men of her world had been altogether +different, and the few frontier specimens she had met at the Briggs' +dinner table had not impressed her with anything except their shyness +and manifest awkwardness in her presence. The West itself appealed to +her, its bigness, its nearness to the absolutely primeval, but not the +people she had so far met. They were not wrapped in a glamor of +romance; she was altogether too keen to idealize them. They were not +her kind, and while she granted their worth, they were more picturesque +about their own affairs than when she came in close contact with them. +Those were her first impressions. And so she looked at Roaring Bill +Wagstaff, over the way, with a quite impersonal interest. + +He came into Briggs' place for supper. Mrs. Briggs was her own +waitress. Briggs himself sat beside Hazel. She heard him grunt, and +saw a mild look of surprise flit over his countenance when Roaring Bill +walked in and coolly took a seat. But not until Hazel glanced at the +newcomer did she recognize him as the man who had fought in the street. +He was looking straight at her when she did glance up, and the mingled +astonishment and frank admiration in his clear gray eyes made Hazel +drop hers quickly to her plate. Since Mr. Andrew Bush, she was +beginning to hate men who looked at her that way. And she could not +help seeing that many did so look. + +Roaring Bill ate his supper in silence. No one spoke to him, and he +addressed no one except to ask that certain dishes be passed. Among +the others conversation was general. Hazel noticed that, and wondered +why--wondered if Roaring Bill was taboo. She had sensed enough of the +Western point of view to know that the West held nothing against a man +who was quick to blows--rather admired such a one, in fact. And her +conclusions were not complimentary to Mr. Bill Wagstaff. If people +avoided him in that country, he must be a very hard citizen indeed. +And Hazel no more than formulated this opinion than she was ashamed of +it, having her own recent experience in mind. Whereupon she dismissed +Bill Wagstaff from her thoughts altogether when she left the table. + +Exactly three days later Hazel came into the dining-room at noon, and +there received her first lesson in the truth that this world is a very +small place, after all. A nattily dressed gentleman seated to one side +of her place at table rose with the most polite bows and extended hand. +Hazel recognized him at a glance as Mr. Howard Perkins, traveling +salesman for Harrington & Bush. She had met him several times in the +company offices. She was anything save joyful at the meeting, but +after the first unwelcome surprise she reflected that it was scarcely +strange that a link in her past life should turn up here, for she knew +that in the very nature of things a firm manufacturing agricultural +implements would have its men drumming up trade on the very edge of the +frontier. + +Mr. Perkins was tolerably young, good looking, talkative, apparently +glad to meet some one from home. He joined her on the porch for a +minute when the meal was over. And he succeeded in putting Hazel +unqualifiedly at her ease so far as he was concerned. If he had heard +any Granville gossip, if he knew why she had left Granville, it +evidently cut no figure with him. As a consequence, while she was +simply polite and negatively friendly, deep in her heart Hazel felt a +pleasant reaction from the disagreeable things for which Granville +stood; and, though she nursed both resentment and distrust against men +in general, it did not seem to apply to Mr. Perkins. Anyway, he was +here to-day, and on the morrow he would be gone. + +Being a healthy, normal young person, Hazel enjoyed his company without +being fully aware of the fact. So much for natural gregariousness. +Furthermore, Mr. Perkins in his business had been pretty much +everywhere on the North American continent, and he knew how to set +forth his various experiences. Most women would have found him +interesting, particularly in a community isolated as Cariboo Meadows, +where tailored clothes and starched collars seemed unknown, and every +man was his own barber--at infrequent intervals. + +So Hazel found it quite natural to be chatting with him on the Briggs' +porch when her school work ended at three-thirty in the afternoon. It +transpired that Mr. Perkins, like herself, had an appreciation of the +scenic beauties, and also the picturesque phases of life as it ran in +the Cariboo country. They talked of many things, discussed life in a +city as compared with existence in the wild, and were agreed that both +had desirable features--and drawbacks. Finally Mr. Perkins proposed a +walk up on a three-hundred-foot knoll that sloped from the back door, +so to speak, of Cariboo Meadows. Hazel got her hat, and they set out. +She had climbed that hill by herself, and she knew that it commanded a +great sweep of the rolling land to the west. + +They reached the top in a few minutes, and found a seat on a dead tree +trunk. Mr. Perkins was properly impressed with the outlook. But +before very long he seemed to suffer a relaxation of his interest in +the view and a corresponding increase of attention to his companion. +Hazel recognized the symptoms. At first it amused, then it irritated +her. The playful familiarity of Mr. Perkins suddenly got on her nerves. + +"I think I shall go down," she said abruptly. + +"Oh, I say, now, there's no hurry," Perkins responded smilingly. + +But she was already rising from her seat, and Mr. Perkins, very likely +gauging his action according to his experience in other such +situations, did an utterly foolish thing. He caught her as she rose, +and laughingly tried to kiss her. Whereupon he discovered that he had +caught a tartar, for Hazel slapped him with all the force she could +muster--which was considerable, judging by the flaming red spot which +the smack of her palm left on his smooth-shaven cheek. But he did not +seem to mind that. Probably he had been slapped before, and regarded +it as part of the game. He attempted to draw her closer. + +"Why, you're a regular scrapper," he smiled. "Now, I'm sure you didn't +cuff Bush that way." + +Hazel jerked loose from his grip in a perfect fury, using at the same +time the weapons nature gave her according to her strength, whereby Mr. +Perkins suffered sundry small bruises, which were as nothing to the +bruises his conceit suffered. For, being free of him, Hazel stood her +ground long enough to tell him that he was a cad, a coward, an ill-bred +nincompoop, and other epithets grievous to masculine vanity. With that +she fled incontinently down the hill, furious, shamed almost to tears, +and wishing fervently that she had the muscle of a man to requite the +insult as it deserved. To cap the climax, Mrs. Briggs, who had seen +the two depart, observed her return alone, and, with a curious look, +asked jokingly: + +"Did you lose the young man in the timber?" + +And Hazel, being keyed to a fearful pitch, unwisely snapped back: + +"I hope so." + +Which caused Mrs. Briggs' gaze to follow her wonderingly as she went +hastily to her own room. + +Like other mean souls of similar pattern, it suited Mr. Perkins to seek +revenge in the only way possible--by confidentially relating to divers +individuals during that evening the Granville episode in the new +teacher's career. At least, Hazel guessed he must have told the tale +of that ambiguously worded bequest and the subsequent gossip, for as +early as the next day she caught certain of Jim Briggs' boarders +looking at her with an interest they had not heretofore displayed--or, +rather, it should be said, with a _different_ sort of interest. They +were discussing her. She could not know it positively, but she felt it. + +The feeling grew to certainty after Perkins' departure that day. There +was a different atmosphere. Probably, she reflected, he had thrown in +a few embellishments of his own for good measure. She felt a tigerish +impulse to choke him. But she was proud, and she carried her head in +the air, and, in effect, told Cariboo Meadows to believe as it pleased +and act as it pleased. They could do no more than cut her and cause +her to lose her school. She managed to keep up an air of cool +indifference that gave no hint of the despairing protest that surged +close to the surface. Individually and collectively, she reiterated to +herself, she despised men. Her resentment had not yet extended to the +women of Cariboo Meadows. They were mostly too busy with their work to +be much in the foreground. She did observe, or thought she observed, a +certain coolness in Mrs. Briggs' manner--a sort of suspended judgment. + +In the meantime, she labored diligently at her appointed task of +drilling knowledge into the heads of a dozen youngsters. From nine +until three-thirty she had that to occupy her mind to the exclusion of +more troublesome things. When school work for the day ended, she went +to her room, or sat on the porch, or took solitary rambles in the +immediate vicinity, avoiding the male contingent as she would have +avoided contagious disease. Never, never, she vowed, would she trust +another man as far as she could throw him. + +The first Saturday after the Perkins incident, Hazel went for a tramp +in the afternoon. She avoided the little hill close at hand. It left +a bad taste in her mouth to look at the spot. This was foolish, and +she realized that it was foolish, but she could not help the +feeling--the insult was still too fresh in her mind. So she skirted +its base and ranged farther afield. The few walks she had taken had +lulled all sense of uneasiness in venturing into the infolding forest. +She felt that those shadowy woods were less sinister than man. And +since she had always kept her sense of direction and come straight to +the Meadows whenever she went abroad, she had no fear or thought of +losing her way. + +A mile or so distant a bare spot high on a wooded ridge struck her as a +likely place to get an unobstructed view. To reach some height and sit +in peace, staring out over far-spreading vistas, contented her. She +could put away the unpleasantness of the immediate past, discount the +possible sordidness of the future, and lose herself in dreams. + +To reach her objective point, she crossed a long stretch of rolling +land, well timbered, dense in parts with thickets of berry bushes. +Midway in this she came upon a little brook, purring a monotone as it +crawled over pebbled reaches and bathed the tangled roots of trees +along its brink. By this she sat a while. Then she idled along, +coming after considerable difficulty to abruptly rising ground. Though +in the midst of timber the sun failed to penetrate, she could always +see it through the branches and so gauge her line of travel. On the +hillside it was easier, for the forest thinned out. Eventually she +gained a considerable height, and while she failed to reach the opening +seen from the Meadows, she found another that served as well. The sun +warmed it, and the sun rays were pleasant to bask in, for autumn drew +close, and there was a coolness in the shade even at noon. She could +not see the town, but she could mark the low hills behind it. At any +rate, she knew where it lay, and the way back. + +So she thought. But the short afternoon fled, and, warned by the low +dip of the sun, she left her nook on the hillside to make her way home. +Though it was near sundown, she felt no particular concern. The long +northern twilight gave her ample time to cover the distance. + +But once down on the rolling land, among the close-ranked trees, she +began to experience a difficulty that had not hitherto troubled her. +With the sun hanging low, she lost her absolute certainty of east and +west, north and south. The forest seemed suddenly to grow confusingly +dim and gloomier, almost menacing in its uncanny evening silence. The +birds were hushed, and the wind. + +She blundered on, not admitting to herself the possibility of being +unable to find Cariboo Meadows. As best she could, and to the best of +her belief, she held in a straight line for the town. But she walked +far enough to have overrun it, and was yet upon unfamiliar ground. The +twilight deepened. The sky above showed turquoise blue between the +tall tree-tops, but the woods themselves grew blurred, dusky at a +little distance ahead. Even to a seasoned woodsman, twilight in a +timbered country that he does not know brings confusion; uncertainty +leads him far wide of his mark. Hazel, all unused to woods travel, +hurried the more, uneasy with the growing conviction that she had gone +astray. + +The shadows deepened until she tripped over roots and stones, and +snagged her hair and clothing on branches she could not see in time to +fend off. As a last resort, she turned straight for the light patch +still showing in the northwest, hoping thus to cross the wagon road +that ran from Soda Creek to the Meadows--it lay west, and she had gone +northeast from town. And as she hurried, a fear began to tug at her +that she had passed the Meadows unknowingly. If she could only cross a +trail--trails always led somewhere, and she was going it blind. The +immensity of the unpeopled areas she had been looking out over for a +week appalled her. + +Presently it was dark, and darkness in the woods is the darkness of the +pit itself. She found a fallen tree, and climbed on it to rest and +think. Night in gloomy places brings an eerie feeling sometimes to the +bravest--dormant sense impressions, running back to the cave age and +beyond, become active, harry the mind with subtle, unreasoning +qualms--and she was a girl, brave enough, but out of the only +environment she knew how to grapple with. All the fearsome tales of +forest beasts she had ever heard rose up to harass her. She had not +lifted up her voice while it was light because she was not the timid +soul that cries in the face of a threatened danger. Also because she +would not then admit the possibility of getting lost. And now she was +afraid to call. She huddled on the log, shuddering with the growing +chill of the night air, partly with dread of the long, black night +itself that walled her in. She had no matches to light a fire. + +After what seemed an age, she fancied she saw a gleam far distant in +the timber. She watched the spot fixedly, and thought she saw the +faint reflection of a light. That heartened her. She advanced toward +it, hoping that it might be the gleam of a ranch window. Her progress +was slow. She blundered over the litter of a forest floor, tripping +over unseen obstacles. But ten minutes established beyond peradventure +the fact that it was indeed a light. Whether a house light or the +reflection of a camp fire she was not woodwise enough to tell. But a +fire must mean human beings of one sort or another, and thereby a means +to reach home. + +She kept on. The wavering gleam came from behind a thicket--an open +fire, she saw at length. Beyond the fire she heard a horse sneeze. +Within a few yards of the thicket through which wavered the yellow +gleam she halted, smitten with a sudden panic. This endured but a few +seconds. All that she knew or had been told of frontier men reassured +her. She had found them to a man courteous, awkwardly considerate. +And she could not wander about all night. + +She moved cautiously, however, to the edge of the thicket, to a point +where she could see the fire. A man sat humped over the glowing +embers, whereon sizzled a piece of meat. His head was bent forward, as +if he were listening. Suddenly he looked up, and she gasped--for the +firelight showed the features of Roaring Bill Wagstaff. + +She was afraid of him. Why she did not know nor stop to reason. But +her fear of him was greater than her fear of the pitch-black night and +the unknown dangers of the forest. She turned to retreat. In the same +instant Roaring Bill reached to his rifle and stood up. + +"Hold on there!" he said coolly. "You've had a look at me--I want a +look at you, old feller, whoever you are. Come on--show yourself." + +He stepped sidewise out of the light as he spoke. Hazel started to +run. The crack of a branch under foot betrayed her, and he closed in +before she took three steps. He caught her rudely by the arm, and +yanked her bodily into the firelight. + +"Well--for the--love of--Mike!" + +Wagstaff drawled the exclamation out in a rising crescendo of +astonishment. Then he laid his gun down across a roll of bedding, and +stood looking at her in speechless wonder. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A DIFFERENT SORT OF MAN + +"For the love of Mike!" Roaring Bill said again. "What are you doing +wandering around in the woods at night? Good Lord! Your teeth are +chattering. Sit down here and get warm. It is sort of chilly." + +Even in her fear, born of the night, the circumstances, and partly of +the man, Hazel noticed that his speech was of a different order from +that to which she had been listening the past ten days. His +enunciation was perfect. He dropped no word endings, nor slurred his +syllables. And cast in so odd a mold is the mind of civilized woman +that the small matter of a little refinement of speech put Hazel Weir +more at her ease than a volume of explanation or protest on his part +would have done. She had pictured him a ruffian in thought, speech, +and deed. His language cleared him on one count, and she observed that +almost his first thought was for her comfort, albeit he made no sort of +apology for handling her so roughly in the gloom beyond the fire. + +"I got lost," she explained, growing suddenly calm. "I was out +walking, and lost my way." + +"Easy thing to do when you don't know timber," Bill remarked. "And in +consequence you haven't had any supper; you've been scared almost to +death--and probably all of Cariboo Meadows is out looking for you. +Well, you've had an adventure. That's worth something. Better eat a +bite, and you'll feel better." + +He turned over the piece of meat on the coals while he spoke. Hazel +saw that it lay on two green sticks, like a steak on a gridiron. It +was quite simple, but she would never have thought of that. The meat +exhaled savory odors. Also, the warmth of the fire seemed good. But-- + +"I'd rather be home," she confessed. + +"Sure! I guess you would--naturally. I'll see that you get there, +though it won't be easy. It's no snap to travel these woods in the +dark. You couldn't have been so far from the Meadows. How did it come +you didn't yell once in a while?" + +"I didn't think it was necessary," Hazel admitted, "until it began to +get dark. And then I didn't like to." + +"You got afraid," Roaring Bill supplied. "Well, it does sound creepy +to holler in the timber after night. I know how that goes. I've made +noises after night that scared myself." + +He dug some utensils out of his pack layout--two plates, knife, fork, +and spoons, and laid them by the fire. Opposite the meat a pot of +water bubbled. Roaring Bill produced a small tin bucket, black with +the smoke of many an open fire, and a package, and made coffee. Then +he spread a canvas sheet, and laid on that bread, butter, salt, a jar +of preserved fruit. + +"How far is it to Cariboo Meadows?" Hazel asked. + +Bill looked up from his supper preparations. + +"You've got me," he returned carelessly. "Probably four or five miles. +I'm not positive; I've been running in circles myself this afternoon." + +"Good heavens!" Hazel exclaimed. "But you know the way?" + +"Like a book--in the daytime," he replied. "But night in the timber is +another story, as you've just been finding out for yourself." + +"I thought men accustomed to the wilderness could always find their way +about, day or night," Hazel observed tartly. + +"They can--in stories," Bill answered dryly. + +He resumed his arranging of the food while she digested this. +Presently he sat down beside the fire, and while he turned the meat +with a forked stick, came back to the subject again. + +"You see, I'm away off any trail here," he said, "and it's all woods, +with only a little patch of open here and there. It's pure accident I +happen to be here at all; accident which comes of unadulterated +cussedness on the part of one of my horses. I left the Meadows at +noon, and Nigger--that's this confounded cayuse of mine--he had to get +scared and take to the brush. He got plumb away from me, and I had to +track him. I didn't come up with him till dusk, and then the first +good place I struck, which was here, I made camp. I was all for +catching that horse, so I didn't pay much attention to where I was +going. Didn't need to, because I know the country well enough to get +anywhere in daylight, and I'm fixed to camp wherever night overtakes +me. So I'm not dead sure of my ground. But you don't need to worry on +that account. I'll get you home all right. Only it'll be mean +traveling--and slow--unless we happen to bump into some of those +fellows out looking for you. They'd surely start out when you didn't +come home at dusk; they know it isn't any joke for a girl to get lost +in these woods. I've known men to get badly turned round right in this +same country. Well, sit up and eat a bite." + +She had to be satisfied with his assurance that he would see her to +Cariboo Meadows. And, accepting the situation with what philosophy she +could command, Hazel proceeded to fall to--and soon discovered herself +relishing the food more than any meal she had eaten for a long time. +Hunger is the king of appetizers, and food cooked in the open has a +flavor of its own which no aproned chef can duplicate. Roaring Bill +put half the piece of meat on her plate, sliced bread for her, and set +the butter handy. Also, he poured her a cup of coffee. He had a small +sack of sugar, and his pack boxes yielded condensed milk. + +"Maybe you'd rather have tea," he said. "I didn't think to ask you. +Most Canadians don't drink anything else." + +"No, thanks. I like coffee," Hazel replied. + +"You're not a true-blue Canuck, then," Bill observed. + +"Indeed, I am," she declared. "Aren't you a Canadian?" + +"Well, I don't know that the mere accident of birth in come particular +locality makes any difference," he answered. "But I'm a lot shy of +being a Canadian, though I've been in this country a long time. I was +born in Chicago, the smokiest, windiest old burg in the United States." + +"It's a big place, isn't it?" Hazel kept the conversation going. "I +don't know any of the American cities, but I have a girl friend working +in a Chicago office." + +"Yes, it's big--big and noisy and dirty, and full of wrecks--human +derelicts in an industrial Sargasso Sea--like all big cities the world +over. I don't like 'em." + +Wagstaff spoke casually, as much to himself as to her, and he did not +pursue the subject, but began his meal. + +"What sort of meat is this?" Hazel asked after a few minutes of +silence. It was fine-grained and of a rich flavor strange to her +mouth. She liked it, but it was neither beef, pork, nor mutton, nor +any meat she knew. + +"Venison. Didn't you ever eat any before?" he smiled. + +"Never tasted it," she answered. "Isn't it nice? No, I've read of +hunters cooking venison over an open fire, but this is my first taste. +Indeed, I've never seen a real camp fire before." + +"Lord--what a lot you've missed!" There was real pity in his tone. "I +killed that deer to-day. In fact, the little circus I had with Mr. +Buck was what started Nigger off into the brush. Have some more +coffee." + +He refilled her tin cup, and devoted himself to his food. Before long +they had satisfied their hunger. Bill laid a few dry sticks on the +fire. The flames laid hold of them and shot up in bright, wavering +tongues. It seemed to Hazel that she had stepped utterly out of her +world. Cariboo Meadows, the schoolhouse, and her classes seemed +remote. She found herself wishing she were a man, so that she could +fare into the wilds with horses and a gun in this capable man fashion, +where routine went by the board and the unexpected hovered always close +at hand. She looked up suddenly, to find him regarding her with a +whimsical smile. + +"In a few minutes," said he, "I'll pack up and try to deliver you as +per contract. Meantime, I'm going to smoke." + +He did not ask her permission, but filled his pipe and lighted it with +a coal. And for the succeeding fifteen minutes Roaring Bill Wagstaff +sat staring into the dancing blaze. Once or twice he glanced at her, +and when he did the same whimsical smile would flit across his face. +Hazel watched him uneasily after a time. He seemed to have forgotten +her. His pipe died, and he sat holding it in his hand. She was +uneasy, but not afraid. There was nothing about him or his actions to +make her fear. On the contrary, Roaring Bill at close quarters +inspired confidence. Why she could not and did not attempt to +determine, psychological analysis being rather out of her line. + +Physically, however, Roaring Bill measured up to a high standard. He +was young, probably twenty-seven or thereabouts. There was +power--plenty of it--in the wide shoulders and deep chest of him, with +arms in proportion. His hands, while smooth on the backs and well +cared for, showed when he exposed the palms the callouses of ax +handling. And his face was likable, she decided, full of character, +intensely masculine. In her heart every woman despises any hint of the +effeminate in man. Even though she may decry what she is pleased to +term the brute in man, whenever he discards the dominant, overmastering +characteristics of the male she will have none of him. Miss Hazel Weir +was no exception to her sex. + +Consciously or otherwise she took stock of Bill Wagstaff. She knew him +to be in bad odor with Cariboo Meadows for some unknown reason. She +had seen him fight in the street, knock a man unconscious with his +fists. According to her conceptions of behavior that was brutal and +vulgar. Drinking came under the same head, and she had Jim Briggs' +word that Bill Wagstaff not only got drunk, but was a "holy terror" +when in that condition. Yet she could not quite associate the twin +traits of brutality and vulgarity with the man sitting close by with +that thoughtful look on his face. His speech stamped him as a man of +education; every line of him showed breeding in all that the word +implies. + +Nevertheless, he was "tough." And she had gathered enough of the +West's wide liberality of view in regard to personal conduct to know +that Roaring Bill Wagstaff must be a hard citizen indeed to be +practically ostracized in a place like Cariboo Meadows. She wondered +what Cariboo Meadows would say if it could see her sitting by Bill +Wagstaff's fire at nine in the evening in the heart of the woods. What +would they say when he piloted her home? + +In the midst of her reflections Roaring Bill got up. + +"Well, we'll make a move," he said, and disappeared abruptly into the +dark. + +She heard him moving around at some distance. Presently he was back, +leading three horses. One he saddled. The other two he rigged with +his pack outfit, storing his varied belongings in two pair of kyaks, +and loading kyaks and bedding on the horses with a deft speed that +bespoke long practice. He was too busy to talk, and Hazel sat beside +the fire, watching in silence. When he had tucked up the last rope +end, he turned to her. + +"There," he said; "we're ready to hit the trail. Can you ride?" + +"I don't know," Hazel answered dubiously. "I never have ridden a +horse." + +"My, my!" he smiled. "Your education has been sadly neglected--and you +a schoolma'am, too!" + +"My walking education hasn't been neglected," Hazel retorted. "I don't +need to ride, thank you." + +"Yes, and stub your toe and fall down every ten feet," Bill observed. +"No, Miss Weir, your first lesson in horsemanship is now due--if you +aren't afraid of horses." + +"I'm not afraid of horses at all," Hazel declared. "But I don't think +it's a very good place to take riding lessons. I can just as well +walk, for I'm not in the least afraid." And then she added as an +afterthought: "How do you happen to know my name?" + +"In the same way that you know mine," Bill replied, "even if you +haven't mentioned it yet. Lord bless you, do you suppose Cariboo +Meadows could import a lady school-teacher from the civilized East +without everybody in fifty miles knowing who she was, and where she +came from, and what she looked like? You furnished them a subject for +conversation and speculation--the same as I do when I drop in there and +whoop it up for a while. I guess you don't realize what old granny +gossips we wild Westerners are. Especially where girls are concerned." + +Hazel stiffened a trifle. She did not like the idea of Cariboo Meadows +discussing her with such freedom. She was becoming sensitive on that +subject--since the coming and going of Mr. Howard Perkins, for she felt +that they were considering her from an angle that she did not relish. +She wondered also if Roaring Bill Wagstaff had heard that gossip. And +if he had-- At any rate, she could not accuse him of being impertinent +or curious in so far as she was concerned. After the first look and +exclamation of amazement he had taken her as a matter of course. If +anything, his personal attitude was tinctured with indifference. + +"Well," said he, "we won't argue the point." + +He disappeared into the dark again. This time he came back with the +crown of his hat full of water, which he sprinkled over the dwindling +fire. As the red glow of the embers faded in a sputter of steam and +ashes, Hazel realized more profoundly the blackness of a cloudy night +in the woods. Until her eyes accustomed themselves to the transition +from firelight to the gloom, she could see nothing but vague shapes +that she knew to be the horses, and another dim, moving object that was +Bill Wagstaff. Beyond that the inky canopy above and the forest +surrounding seemed a solid wall. + +"It's going to be nasty traveling, Miss Weir," Roaring Bill spoke at +her elbow. "I'll walk and lead the packs. You ride Silk. He's +gentle. All you have to do is sit still, and he'll stay right behind +the packs. I'll help you mount." + +If Hazel had still been inclined to insist on walking, she had no +chance to debate the question. Bill took her by the arm and led her up +beside the horse. It was a unique experience for her, this being +compelled to do things. No man had ever issued ultimatums to her. +Even Jack Barrow, with all an accepted lover's privileges, had never +calmly told her that she must do thus and so, and acted on the +supposition that his word was final. But here was Roaring Bill +Wagstaff telling her how to put her foot in the stirrup, putting her +for the first time in her life astride a horse, warning her to duck low +branches. In his mind there seemed to be no question as whether or not +she would ride. He had settled that. + +Unused to mounting, she blundered at the first attempt, and flushed in +the dark at Bill's amused chuckle. The next instant he caught her +under the arms, and, with the leverage of her one foot in the stirrup, +set her gently in the seat of the saddle. + +"You're such a little person," he said, "these stirrups are a mile too +long. Put your feet in the leather above--so. Now play follow your +leader. Give Silk his head." + +He moved away. The blurred shapes of the pack horses forged ahead, +rustling in the dry grass, dry twigs snapping under foot. Obedient to +Bill's command, she let the reins dangle, and Silk followed close +behind his mates. Hazel lurched unsteadily at first, but presently she +caught the swinging motion and could maintain her balance without +holding stiffly to the saddle horn. + +They crossed the small meadow and plunged into thick woods again. For +the greater part of the way Hazel could see nothing; she could tell +that Wagstaff and the pack horses moved before her by the sounds of +their progress, and that was all. Now and then low-hanging limbs +reached suddenly out of the dark, and touched her with unseen fingers, +or swept rudely across her face and hair. + +The night seemed endless as the wilderness itself. Unused to riding, +she became sore, and then the sore muscles stiffened. The chill of the +night air intensified. She grew cold, her fingers numb. She did not +know where she was going, and she was assailed with doubts of Roaring +Bill's ability to find Cariboo Meadows. + +For what seemed to her an interminable length of time they bore slowly +on through timber, crossed openings where the murk of the night thinned +a little, enabling her to see the dim form of Wagstaff plodding in the +lead. Again they dipped down steep slopes and ascended others as +steep, where Silk was forced to scramble, and Hazel kept a precarious +seat. She began to feel, with an odd heart sinking, that sufficient +time had elapsed for them to reach the Meadows, even by a roundabout +way. Then, as they crossed a tiny, gurgling stream, and came upon a +level place beyond, Silk bumped into the other horses and stopped. +Hazel hesitated a second. There was no sound of movement. + +"Mr. Wagstaff!" she called. + +"Yours truly," his voice hailed back, away to one side. "I'll be there +in a minute." + +In less time he appeared beside her. + +"Will you fall off, or be lifted off?" he said cheerfully. + +"Where are we?" she demanded. + +"Ask me something easy," he returned. "I've been going it blind for an +hour, trying to hit the Soda Creek Trail, or any old trail that would +show me where I am. It's no use. Too dark. A man couldn't find his +way over country that he knew to-night if he had a lantern and a +compass." + +"What on earth am I going to do?" Hazel cried desperately. + +"Camp here till daylight," Roaring Bill answered evenly. "The only +thing you can do. Good Lord!" His hand accidentally rested on hers. +"You're like ice. I didn't think about you getting cold riding. I'm a +mighty thoughtless escort, I'm afraid. Get down and put on a coat, and +I'll have a fire in a minute." + +"I suppose if I must, I must; but I can get off without any help, thank +you," Hazel answered ungraciously. + +Roaring Bill made no reply, but stood back, and when her feet touched +solid earth he threw over her boulders the coat he had worn himself. +Then he turned away, and Hazel saw him stooping here and there, and +heard the crack of dry sticks broken over his knee. In no time he was +back to the horses with an armful of dry stuff, and had a small blaze +licking up through dry grass and twigs. As it grew he piled on larger +sticks till the bright flame waved two feet high, lighting up the +near-by woods and shedding a bright glow on the three horses standing +patiently at hand. He paid no attention to Hazel until she came +timidly up to the fire. Then he looked up at her with his whimsical +smile. + +"That's right," he said; "come on and get warm. No use worrying--or +getting cross. I suppose from your civilized, conventional point of +view it's a terrible thing to be out in the woods all night alone with +a strange man. But I'm not a bear--I won't eat you." + +"I'm sorry if I seemed rude," Hazel said penitently; Roaring Bill's +statement was reassuring in its frankness. "I can't help thinking of +the disagreeable side of it. People talk so. I suppose I'll be a nine +days' wonder in Cariboo Meadows." + +Bill laughed softly. + +"Let them take it out in wondering," he advised. "Cariboo Meadows is a +very small and insignificant portion of the world, anyway." + +He went to one of the packs, and came back with a canvas cover, which +he spread on the ground. + +"Sit on that," he said. "The earth's always damp in the woods." + +Then he stripped the horses of their burdens and tied them out of sight +among the trees. That task finished, he took his ax and rustled a pile +of wood, dragging dead poles up to the fire and chopping them into +short lengths. When finally he laid aside his ax, he busied himself +with gathering grass and leaves and pine needles until he had several +armfuls collected and spread in an even pile to serve as a mattress. +Upon this he laid his bedding, two thick quilts, two or three pairs of +woolen blankets, a pillow, the whole inclosed with a long canvas sheet, +the bed tarpaulin of the cattle ranges. + +"There," he said; "you can turn in whenever you feel like it." + +For himself he took the saddle blankets and laid them close by the fire +within reaching distance of the woodpile, taking for cover a pack +canvas. He stretched himself full length, filled his pipe, lit it, and +fell to staring into the fire while he smoked. + +Half an hour later he raised his head and looked across the fire at +Hazel. + +"Why don't you go to bed?" he asked. + +"I'm not sleepy," she declared, which was a palpable falsehood, for her +eyelids were even then drooping. + +"Maybe not, but you need rest," Bill said quietly. "Quit thinking +things. It'll be all the same a hundred years from now. Go on to bed. +You'll be more comfortable." + +Thus peremptorily commanded, Hazel found herself granting instant +obedience. The bed, as Bill had remarked, was far more comfortable +than sitting by the fire. She got into the blankets just as she stood, +even to her shoes, and drew the canvas sheet up so that it hid her +face--but did not prevent her from seeing. + +In spite of herself, she slept fitfully. Now and then she would wake +with a start to a half-frightened realization of her surroundings and +plight, and whenever she did wake and look past the fire it was to see +Roaring Bill Wagstaff stretched out in the red glow, his brown head +pillowed on one folded arm. Once she saw him reach to the wood without +moving his body and lay a stick on the fire. + +Then all at once she wakened out of sound slumber with a violent start. +Roaring Bill was shaking the tarpaulin over her and laughing. + +"Arise, Miss Sleeping Beauty!" he said boyishly. "Breakfast's ready." + +He went back to the fire. Hazel sat up, patting her tousled hair into +some semblance of order. Off in the east a reddish streak spread +skyward into somber gray. In the west, black night gave ground slowly. + +"Well, it's another day," she whispered, as she had whispered to +herself once before. "I wonder if there will ever be any more like it?" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +IN DEEP WATER + +The dawn thrust aside night's somber curtains while they ate, revealing +a sky overcast with slaty clouds. What with her wanderings of the +night before and the journey through the dark with Roaring Bill, she +had absolutely no idea of either direction or locality. The infolding +timber shut off the outlook. Forest-clad heights upreared here and +there, but no landmark that she could place and use for a guide. She +could not guess whether Cariboo Meadows was a mile distant, or ten, nor +in what direction it might lie. If she had not done so before, she now +understood how much she had to depend on Roaring Bill Wagstaff. + +"Do you suppose I can get home in time to open school?" she inquired +anxiously. + +Roaring Bill smiled. "I don't know," he answered. "It all depends." + +Upon what it depended he did not specify, but busied himself packing +up. In half an hour or less they were ready to start. Bill spent a +few minutes longer shortening the stirrups, then signified that she +should mount. He seemed more thoughtful, less inclined to speech. + +"You know where you are now, don't you?" she asked. + +"Not exactly," he responded. "But I will before long--I hope." + +The ambiguity of his answer did not escape her. She puzzled over it +while Silk ambled sedately behind the other horses. She hoped that +Bill Wagstaff knew where he was going. If he did not--but she refused +to entertain the alternative. And she began to watch eagerly for some +sign of familiar ground. + +For two hours Roaring Bill tramped through aisles bordered with pine +and spruce and fir, through thickets of berry bush, and across limited +areas of grassy meadow. Not once did they cross a road or a trail. +With the clouds hiding the sun, she could not tell north from south +after they left camp. Eventually Bill halted at a small stream to get +a drink. Hazel looked at her watch. It was half past eight. + +"Aren't we ever going to get there?" she called impatiently. + +"Pretty soon," he called back, and struck out briskly again. + +Another hour passed. Ahead of her, leading one pack horse and letting +the other follow untrammeled, Roaring Bill kept doggedly on, halting +for nothing, never looking back. If he did not know where he was +going, he showed no hesitation. And Hazel had no choice but to follow. + +They crossed a ravine and slanted up a steep hillside. Presently Hazel +could look away over an area of woodland undulating like a heavy ground +swell at sea. Here and there ridges stood forth boldly above the +general roll, and distantly she could descry a white-capped mountain +range. They turned the end of a thick patch of pine scrub, and Bill +pulled up in a small opening. From a case swinging at his belt he took +out a pair of field glasses, and leisurely surveyed the country. + +"Well?" Hazel interrogated. + +She herself had cast an anxious glance over the wide sweep below and +beyond, seeing nothing but timber and hills, with the silver thread of +a creek winding serpent-wise through the green. But of habitation or +trail there was never a sign. And it was after ten o'clock. They were +over four hours from their camp ground. + +"Nothing in sight, is there?" Bill said thoughtfully. "If the sun was +out, now. Funny I can't spot that Soda Creek Trail." + +"Don't you know this country at all?" she asked gloomily. + +"I thought I did," he replied. "But I can't seem to get my bearings to +work out correctly. I'm awfully sorry to keep you in such a pickle. +But it can't be helped." + +Thus he disarmed her for the time being. She could not find fault with +a man who was doing his best to help her. If Roaring Bill were unable +to bear straight for the Meadows, it was unfortunate for her, but no +fault of his. At the same time, it troubled her more than she would +admit. + +"Well, we won't get anywhere standing on this hill," he remarked at +length. + +He took up the lead rope and moved on. They dropped over the ridge +crest and once more into the woods. Roaring Bill made his next halt +beside a spring, and fell to unlashing the packs. + +"What are you going to do?" Hazel asked. + +"Cook a bite, and let the horses graze," he told her. "Do you realize +that we've been going since daylight? It's near noon. Horses have to +eat and rest once in a while, just the same as human beings." + +The logic of this Hazel could not well deny, since she herself was +tired and ravenously hungry. By her watch it was just noon. + +Bill hobbled out his horses on the grass below the spring, made a fire, +and set to work cooking. For the first time the idea of haste seemed +to have taken hold of him. He worked silently at the meal getting, +fried steaks of venison, and boiled a pot of coffee. They ate. He +filled his pipe, and smoked while he repacked. Altogether, he did not +consume more than forty minutes at the noon halt. Hazel, now woefully +saddle sore, would fain have rested longer, and, in default of resting, +tried to walk and lead Silk. Roaring Bill offered no objection to +that. But he hit a faster gait. She could not keep up, and he did not +slacken pace when she began to fall behind. So she mounted awkwardly, +and Silk jolted and shook her with his trotting until he caught up with +his mates. Bill grinned over his shoulder. + +"You're learning fast," he called back. "You'll be able to run a pack +train by and by." + +The afternoon wore on without bringing them any nearer Cariboo Meadows +so far as Hazel could see. Traveling over a country swathed in timber +and diversified in contour, she could not tell whether Roaring Bill +swung in a circle or bore straight for some given point. + +She speculated futilely on the outcome of the strange plight she was +in. It was a far cry from pounding a typewriter in a city office to +jogging through the wilderness, lost beyond peradventure, her only +company a stranger of unsavory reputation. Yet she was not frightened, +for all the element of unreality. Under other circumstances she could +have relished the adventure, taken pleasure in faring gypsy fashion +over the wide reaches where man had left no mark. As it was-- + +She called a halt at four o'clock. + +"Mr. Wagstaff!" + +Bill stopped his horses and came back to her. + +"Aren't we _ever_ going to get anywhere?" she asked soberly. + +"Sure! But we've got to keep going. Got to make the best of a bad +job," he returned. "Getting pretty tired?" + +"I am," she admitted. "I'm afraid I can't ride much longer. I could +walk if you wouldn't go so fast. Aren't there any ranches in this +country at all?" + +He shook his head. "They're few and far between," he said. "Don't +worry, though. It isn't a life-and-death matter. If we were out here +without grub or horses it might be tough. You're in no danger from +exposure or hunger." + +"You don't seem to realize the position it puts me in," Hazel answered. +A wave of despondency swept over her, and her eyes grew suddenly bright +with the tears she strove to keep back. "If we wander around in the +woods much longer, I'll simply be a sensation when I do get back to +Cariboo Meadows. I won't have a shred of reputation left. It will +probably result in my losing the school. You're a man, and it's +different with you. You can't know what a girl has to contend with +where no one knows her. I'm a stranger in this country, and what +little they do know of me--" + +She stopped short, on the point of saying that what Cariboo Meadows +knew of her through the medium of Mr. Howard Perkins was not at all to +her credit. + +Roaring Bill looked up at her impassively. "I know," he said, as if he +had read her thought. "Your friend Perkins talked a lot. But what's +the difference? Cariboo Meadows is only a fleabite. If you're right, +and you know you're right, you can look the world in the eye and tell +it collectively to go to the devil. Besides, you've got a perverted +idea. People aren't so ready to give you the bad eye on somebody +else's say-so. It would take a lot more than a flash drummer's word to +convince me that you're a naughty little girl. Pshaw--forget it!" + +Hazel colored hotly at his mention of Perkins, but for the latter part +of his speech she could have hugged him. Bill Wagstaff went a long +way, in those brief sentences, toward demolishing her conviction that +no man ever overlooked an opportunity of taking advantage of a woman. +But Bill said nothing further. He stood a moment longer by her horse, +resting one hand on Silk's mane, and scraping absently in the soft +earth with the toe of his boot. + +"Well, let's get somewhere," he said abruptly. "If you're too saddle +sore to ride, walk a while. I'll go slower." + +She walked, and the exercise relieved the cramping ache in her limbs. +Roaring Bill's slower pace was fast enough at that. She followed till +her strength began to fail. And when in spite of her determination she +lagged behind, he stopped at the first water. + +"We'll camp here," he said. "You're about all in, and we can't get +anywhere to-night, I see plainly." + +Hazel accepted this dictum as best she could. She eat down on a mossy +rock while he stripped the horses of their gear and staked them out. +Then Bill started a fire and fixed the roll of bedding by it for her to +sit on. Dusk crept over the forest while he cooked supper, making a +bannock in the frying pan to take the place of bread; and when they had +finished eating and washed the few dishes, night shut down black as the +pit. + +They talked little. Hazel was in the grip of utter forlornness, moody, +wishful to cry. Roaring Bill lumped on his side of the fire, staring +thoughtfully into the blaze. After a long period of abstraction he +glanced at his watch, then arose and silently arranged her bed. After +that he spread his saddle blankets and lay down. + +Hazel crept into the covers and quietly sobbed herself to sleep. The +huge and silent land appalled her. She had been chucked neck and crop +into the primitive, and she had not yet been able to react to her +environment. She was neither faint-hearted nor hysterical. The grind +of fending for herself in a city had taught her the necessity of +self-control. But she was worn out, unstrung, and there is a limit to +a woman's endurance. + +As on the previous night, she wakened often and glanced over to the +fire. Roaring Bill kept his accustomed position, flat in the glow. +She had no fear of him now. But he was something of an enigma. She +had few illusions about men in general. She had encountered a good +many of them in one way and another since reaching the age when she +coiled her hair on top of her head. And she could not recall one--not +even Jack Barrow--with whom she would have felt at ease in a similar +situation. She knew that there was a something about her that drew +men. If the presence of her had any such effect on Bill Wagstaff, he +painstakingly concealed it. + +And she was duly grateful for that. She had not believed it a +characteristic of his type--the virile, intensely masculine type of +man. But she had not once found him looking at her with the same +expression in his eyes that she had seen once over Jim Briggs' dining +table. + +Night passed, and dawn ushered in a clearing sky. Ragged wisps of +clouds chased each other across the blue when they set out again. +Hazel walked the stiffness out of her muscles before she mounted. When +she did get on Silk, Roaring Bill increased his pace. He was +long-legged and light of foot, apparently tireless. She asked no +questions. What was the use? He would eventually come out somewhere. +She was resigned to wait. + +After a time she began to puzzle, and the old uneasiness came back. +The last trailing banner of cloud vanished, and the sun rode clear in +an opal sky, smiling benignly down on the forested land. She was thus +enabled to locate the cardinal points of the compass. Wherefore she +took to gauging their course by the shadows. And the result was what +set her thinking. Over level and ridge and swampy hollow, Roaring Bill +drove straight north in an undeviating line. She recollected that the +point from which she had lost her way had lain northeast of Cariboo +Meadows. Even if they had swung in a circle, they could scarcely be +pointing for the town in that direction. For another hour Bill held to +the northern line as a needle holds to the pole. A swift rush of +misgiving seized her. + +"Mr. Wagstaff!" she called sharply. + +Roaring Bill stopped, and she rode Silk up past the pack horses. + +"Where are you taking me?" she demanded. + +"Why, I'm taking you home--or trying to," he answered mildly. + +"But you're going _north_," she declared. "You've been going north all +morning. I was north of Cariboo Meadows when I got lost. How can we +get back to Cariboo Meadows by going still farther north?" + +"You're more of a woodsman than I imagined," Bill remarked gently. He +smiled up at her, and drew out his pipe and tobacco pouch. + +She looked at him for a minute. "Do you know where we are now?" she +asked quietly. + +He met her keen gaze calmly. "I do," he made laconic answer. + +"Which way is Cariboo Meadows, then, and how far is it?" she demanded. + +"General direction south," he replied slowly. "Fifty miles more or +less. Rather more than less." + +"And you've been leading me straight north!" she cried. "Oh, what am I +going to do?" + +"Keep right on going," Wagstaff answered. + +"I won't--I won't!" she flashed. "I'll find my own way back. What +devilish impulse prompted you to do such a thing?" + +"You'll have a beautiful time of it," he said dryly, completely +ignoring her last question. "Take you three days to walk there--if you +knew every foot of the way. And you don't know the way. Traveling in +timber is confusing, as you've discovered. You'll never see Cariboo +Meadows, or any other place, if you tackle it single-handed, without +grub or matches or bedding. It's fall, remember. A snowstorm is due +any time. This is a whopping big country. A good many men have got +lost in it--and other men have found their bones." + +He let this sink in while she sat there on his horse choking back a +wild desire to curse him by bell, book, and candle for what he had +done, and holding in check the fear of what he might yet do. She knew +him to be a different type of man from any she had ever encountered. +She could not escape the conclusion that Roaring Bill Wagstaff was +something of a law unto himself, capable of hewing to the line of his +own desires at any cost. She realized her utter helplessness, and the +realization left her without words. He had drawn a vivid picture, and +the instinct of self-preservation asserted itself. + +"You misled me." She found her voice at last. "Why?" + +"Did I mislead you?" he parried. "Weren't you already lost when you +came to my camp? And have I mistreated you in any manner? Have I +refused you food, shelter, or help?" + +"My home is in Cariboo Meadows," she persisted. "I asked you to take +me there. You led me away from there deliberately, I believe now." + +"My trail doesn't happen to lead to Cariboo Meadows, that's all," +Roaring Bill coolly told her. "If you must go back there, I shan't +restrain you in any way whatever. But I'm for home myself. And that," +he came close, and smiled frankly up at her, "is a better place than +Cariboo Meadows. I've got a little house back there in the woods. +There's a big fireplace where the wind plays tag with the snowflakes in +winter time. There's grub there, and meat in the forest, and fish in +the streams. It's home for me. Why should I go back to Cariboo +Meadows? Or you?" + +"Why should _I_ go with you?" she demanded scornfully. + +"Because I want you to," he murmured. + +They matched glances for a second, Wagstaff smiling, she half horrified. + +"Are you clean mad?" she asked angrily. "I was beginning to think you +a gentleman." + +Bill threw back his head and laughed. Then on the instant he sobered. +"Not a gentleman," he said. "I'm just plain man. And lonesome +sometimes for a mate, as nature has ordained to be the way of flesh." + +"Get a squaw, then," she sneered. "I've heard that such people as you +do that." + +"Not me," he returned, unruffled. "I want a woman of my own kind." + +"Heaven save _me_ from that classification!" she observed, with +emphasis on the pronoun. + +"Yes?" he drawled. "Well, there's no profit in arguing that point. +Let's be getting on." + +He reached for the lead rope of the nearest pack horse. + +Hazel urged Silk up a step. "Mr. Wagstaff," she cried, "I must go +back." + +"You can't go back without me," he said. "And I'm not traveling that +way, thank you." + +"Please--oh, please!" she begged forlornly. + +Roaring Bill's face hardened. "I will not," he said flatly. "I'm +going to play the game my way. And I'll play fair. That's the only +promise I will make." + +She took a look at the encompassing woods, and her heart sank at facing +those shadowy stretches alone and unguided. The truth of his statement +that she would never reach Cariboo Meadows forced itself home. There +was but the one way out, and her woman's wit would have to save her. + +"Go on, then," she gritted, in a swift surge of anger. "I am afraid to +face this country alone. I admit my helplessness. But so help me +Heaven, I'll make you pay for this dirty trick! You're not a man! +You're a cur--a miserable, contemptible scoundrel!" + +"Whew!" Roaring Bill laughed. "Those are pretty names. Just the same, +I admire your grit. Well, here we go!" + +He took up the lead rope, and went on without even looking back to see +if she followed. If he had made the slightest attempt to force her to +come, if he had betrayed the least uncertainty as to whether she would +come, Hazel would have swung down from the saddle and set her face +stubbornly southward in sheer defiance of him. But such is the +peculiar complexity of a woman that she took one longing glance +backward, and then fell in behind the packs. She was weighted down +with dread of the unknown, boiling over with rage at the man who swung +light-footed in the lead; but nevertheless she followed him. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT + +All the rest of that day they bore steadily northward. Hazel had no +idea of Bill Wagstaff's destination. She was too bitter against him to +ask, after admitting that she could not face the wilderness alone. +Between going it alone and accompanying him, it seemed to be a case of +choosing the lesser evil. Curiously she felt no fear of Bill Wagstaff +in person, and she did have a dread vision of what might happen to her +if she went wandering alone in the woods. There was one loophole left +to comfort her. It seemed scarcely reasonable that they could fare on +forever without encountering other frontier folk. Upon that +possibility she based her hopes of getting back to civilization, not so +much for love of civilization as to defeat Roaring Bill's object, to +show him that a woman had to be courted rather than carried away +against her will by any careless, strong-armed male. She knew nothing +of the North, but she thought there must be some mode of communication +or transportation. If she could once get in touch with other +people--well, she would show Roaring Bill. Of course, getting back to +Cariboo Meadows meant a new start in the world, for she had no hope, +nor any desire, to teach school there after this episode. She found +herself facing that prospect unmoved, however. The important thing was +getting out of her present predicament. + +Roaring Bill made his camp that night as if no change in their attitude +had taken place. To all his efforts at conversation she turned a deaf +ear and a stony countenance. She proposed to eat his food and use his +bedding, because that was necessary. But socially she would have none +of him. Bill eventually gave over trying to talk. But he lost none of +his cheerfulness. He lay on his own side of the fire, regarding her +with the amused tolerance that one bestows upon the capricious temper +of a spoiled child. + +Thereafter, day by day, the miles unrolled behind them. Always Roaring +Bill faced straight north. For a week he kept on tirelessly, and a +consuming desire to know how far he intended to go began to take hold +of her. But she would not ask, even when daily association dulled the +edge of her resentment, and she found it hard to keep up her hostile +attitude, to nurse bitterness against a man who remained serenely +unperturbed, and who, for all his apparent lawlessness, treated her as +a man might treat his sister. + +To her unpracticed eye, the character of the country remained unchanged +except for minor variations. Everywhere the timber stood in serried +ranks, spotted with lakes and small meadows, and threaded here and +there with little streams. But at last they dropped into a valley +where the woods thinned out, and down the center of which flowed a +sizable river. This they followed north a matter of three days. On +the west the valley wall ran to a timbered ridge. Eastward the jagged +peaks of a snow-capped mountain chain pierced the sky. + +Two hours from their noon camp on the fourth day in the valley Hazel +sighted some moving objects in the distance, angling up on the +timber-patched hillside. She watched them, at first uncertain whether +they were moose, which they had frequently encountered, or domestic +animals. Accustomed by now to gauging direction at a glance toward the +sun, she observed that these objects traveled south. + +Presently, as the lines of their respective travel brought them nearer, +she made them out to be men, mounted, and accompanied by packs. She +counted the riders--five, and as many pack horses. One, she felt +certain, was a woman--whether white or red she could not tell. +But--there was safety in numbers. And they were going south. + +Upon her first impulse she swung off Silk, and started for the +hillside, at an angle calculated to intercept the pack train. There +was a chance, and she was rapidly becoming inured to taking chances. +At a distance of a hundred yards, she looked back, half fearful that +Roaring Bill was at her heels. But he stood with his hands in his +pockets, watching her. She did not look again until she was half a +mile up the hill. Then he and his packs had vanished. + +So, too, had the travelers that she was hurrying to meet. Off the +valley floor, she no longer commanded the same sweeping outlook. The +patches of timber intervened. As she kept on, she became more +uncertain. But she bore up the slope until satisfied that she was +parallel with where they should come out; then she stopped to rest. +After a few minutes she climbed farther, endeavoring to reach a point +whence she could see more of the slope. In so far had she absorbed +woodcraft that she now began watching for tracks. There were enough of +these, but they were the slender, triangle prints of the shy deer. +Nothing resembling the hoofmark of a horse rewarded her searching. And +before long, what with turning this way and that, she found herself on +a plateau where the pine and spruce stood like bristles in a brush, and +from whence she could see neither valley below nor hillside above. + +She was growing tired. Her feet ached from climbing, and she was wet +with perspiration. She rested again, and tried calling. But her voice +sounded muffled in the timber, and she soon gave over that. The +afternoon was on the wane, and she began to think of and dread the +coming of night. Already the sun had dipped out of sight behind the +western ridges; his last beams were gilding the blue-white pinnacles a +hundred miles to the east. The shadows where she sat were thickening. +She had given up hope of finding the pack train, and she had cut loose +from Roaring Bill. It would be just like him to shrug his shoulders +and keep on going, she thought resentfully. + +As twilight fell a brief panic seized her, followed by frightened +despair. The wilderness, in its evening hush, menaced her with huge +emptinesses, utter loneliness. She worked her way to the edge of the +wooded plateau. There was a lingering gleam of yellow and rose pink on +the distant mountains, but the valley itself lay in a blur of shade, +out of which rose the faint murmur of running water, a monotone in the +silence. She sat down on a dead tree, and cried softly to herself. + +"Well?" + +She started, with an involuntary gasp of fear, it was so unexpected. +Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, resting one hand +on the muzzle of his grounded rifle, smiling placidly. + +[Illustration: Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, +resting one hand on the muzzle of his grounded rifle.] + +"Well," he repeated, "this chasing up a pack train isn't so easy as it +looks, eh?" + +She did not answer. Her pride would not allow her to admit that she +was glad to see him, relieved to be overtaken like a truant from +school. And Bill did not seem to expect a reply. He slung his rifle +into the crook of his arm. + +"Come on, little woman," he said gently. "I knew you'd be tired, and I +made camp down below. It isn't far." + +Obediently she followed him, and as she tramped at his heels she saw +why he had been able to come up on her so noiselessly. He had put on a +pair of moccasins, and his tread gave forth no sound. + +"How did you manage to find me?" she asked suddenly--the first +voluntary speech from her in days. + +Bill answered over his shoulder: + +"Find you? Bless your soul, your little, high-heeled slices left a +trail a one-eyed man could follow. I've been within fifty yards of you +for two hours. + +"Just the same," he continued, after a minute's interval, "it's bad +business for you to run off like that. Suppose you played hide and +seek with me till a storm wiped out your track? You'd be in a deuce of +a fix." + +She made no reply. The lesson of the experience was not lost on her, +but she was not going to tell him so. + +In a short time they reached camp. Roaring Bill had tarried long +enough to unpack. The horses grazed on picket. It was borne in upon +her that short of actually meeting other people her only recourse lay +in sticking to Bill Wagstaff, whether she liked it or not. To strike +out alone was courting self-destruction. And she began to understand +why Roaring Bill made no effort to watch or restrain her. He knew the +grim power of the wilderness. It was his best ally in what he had set +out to do. + +Within forty-eight hours the stream they followed merged itself in +another, both wide and deep, which flowed west through a level-bottomed +valley three miles or more in width. Westward the land spread out in a +continuous roll, marked here and there with jutting ridges and isolated +peaks; but on the east a chain of rugged mountains marked the horizon +as far as she could see. + +Roaring Bill halted on the river brink and stripped his horses clean, +though it was but two in the afternoon and their midday fire less than +an hour extinguished. She watched him curiously. When his packs were +off he beckoned her. + +"Hold them a minute," he said, and put the lead ropes in her hand. + +Then he went up the bank into a thicket of saskatoons. Out of this he +presently emerged, bearing on his shoulders a canoe, old and +weather-beaten, but stanch, for it rode light as a feather on the +stream. Bill seated himself in the canoe, holding to Silk's lead rope. +The other two he left free. + +"Now," he directed, "when I start across, you drive Nigger and Satin in +if they show signs of hanging back. Bounce a rock or two off them if +they lag." + +Her task was an easy one, for Satin and Nigger followed Silk +unhesitatingly. The river lapped along the sleek sides of them for +fifty yards. Then they dropped suddenly into swimming water, and the +current swept them downstream slantwise for the opposite shore, only +their heads showing above the surface. Hazel wondered what river it +might be. It was a good quarter of a mile wide, and swift. + +Roaring Bill did not trouble to enlighten her as to the locality. When +he got back he stowed the saddle and pack equipment in the canoe. + +"All aboard for the north side," he said boyishly. And Hazel climbed +obediently amidships. + +On the farther side, Bill emptied the canoe, and stowed it out of sight +in a convenient thicket, repacked his horses, and struck out again. +They left the valley behind, and camped that evening on a great height +of land that rolled up to the brink of the valley. + +Thereafter the country underwent a gradual change as they progressed +north, slanting a bit eastward. The heavy timber gave way to a sparser +growth, and that in turn dwindled to scrubby thickets, covering great +areas of comparative level. Long reaches of grassland opened before +them, waving yellow in the autumn sun. They crossed other rivers of +various degrees of depth and swiftness, swimming some and fording +others. Hazel drew upon her knowledge of British Columbia geography, +and decided that the big river where Bill hid his canoe must be the +Fraser where it debouched from the mountains. And in that case she was +far north, and in a wilderness indeed. + +Her muscles gradually hardened to the saddle and to walking. Her +appetite grew in proportion. The small supply of eatable dainties that +Roaring Bill had brought from the Meadows dwindled and disappeared, +until they were living on bannocks baked à la frontier in his frying +pan, on beans and coffee, and venison killed by the way. Yet she +relished the coarse fare even while she rebelled against the +circumstances of its partaking. Occasionally Bill varied the meat diet +with trout caught in the streams beside which they made their various +camps. He offered to teach her the secrets of angling, but she +shrugged her shoulders by way of showing her contempt for Roaring Bill +and all his works. + +"Do you realize," she broke out one evening over the fire, "that this +is simply abduction?" + +"Not at all," Bill answered promptly. "Abduction means to take away +surreptitiously by force, to carry away wrongfully and by violence any +human being, to kidnap. Now, you can't by any stretch of the +imagination accuse me of force, violence, or kidnaping--not by a long +shot. You merely wandered into my camp, and it wasn't convenient for +me to turn back. Therefore circumstances--not my act, remember--made +it advisable for you to accompany me. Of course I'll admit that, +according to custom and usage, you would expect me to do the polite +thing and restore you to your own stamping ground. But there's no law +making it mandatory for a fellow to pilot home a lady in distress. +Isn't that right?" + +"Anyhow," he went on, when she remained silent, "I didn't. And you'll +have to lay the blame on nature for making you a wonderfully attractive +woman. I did honestly try to find the way to Cariboo Meadows that +first night. It was only when I found myself thinking how fine it +would be to pike through these old woods and mountains with a partner +like you that I decided--as I did. I'm human--the woman, she tempted +me. And aren't you better off? I could hazard a guess that you were +running away from yourself--or something--when you struck Cariboo +Meadows. And what's Cariboo Meadows but a little blot on the face of +this fair earth, where you were tied to a deadly routine in order to +earn your daily bread? You don't care two whoops about anybody there. +Here you are free--free in every sense of the word. You have no +responsibility except what you impose on yourself; no board bills to +pay; nobody to please but your own little self. You've got the clean, +wide land for a bedroom, and the sky for its ceiling, instead of a +stuffy little ten-by-ten chamber. Do you know that you look fifty per +cent better for these few days of living in the open--the way every +normal being likes to live? You're getting some color in your cheeks, +and you're losing that worried, archangel look. Honest, if I were a +physician, I'd have only one prescription: Get out into the wild +country, and live off the country as your primitive forefathers did. +Of course, you can't do that alone. I know because I've tried it. We +humans don't differ so greatly from the other animals. We're made to +hunt in couples or packs. There's a purpose, a law, you might say, +behind that, too; only it's terribly obscured by a lot of other +nonessentials in this day and age. + +"Is there any comparison between this sort of life, for instance--if it +appeals to one at all--and being a stenographer and bucking up against +the things any good-looking, unprotected girl gets up against in a +city? You know, if you'd be frank, that there isn't. Shucks! Herding +in the mass, and struggling for a mere subsistence, like dogs over a +bone, degenerates man physically, mentally, and morally--all our +vaunted civilization and culture to the contrary notwithstanding. Eh?" + +But she would not take up the cudgels against him, would not seem to +countenance or condone his offense by discussing it from any angle +whatsoever. And she was the more determined to allow no degree of +friendliness, even in conversation, because she recognized the +masterful quality of the man. She told herself that she could have +liked Roaring Bill Wagstaff very well if he had not violated what she +considered the rules of the game. And she had no mind to allow his +personality to sweep her off her feet in the same determined manner +that he had carried her into the wilderness. She was no longer afraid +of him. She occasionally forgot, in spite of herself, that she had a +deep-seated grievance against him. At such times the wild land, the +changing vistas the journey opened up, charmed her into genuine +enjoyment. She would find herself smiling at Bill's quaint tricks of +speech. Then she would recollect that she was, to all intents and +purposes, a prisoner, the captive of his bow and spear. That was +maddening. + +After a lapse of time they dropped into another valley, and faced +westward to a mountain range which Bill told her was the Rockies. The +next day a snowstorm struck them. At daybreak the clouds were massed +overhead, lowering, and a dirty gray. An uncommon chill, a rawness of +atmosphere foretold the change. And shortly after they broke camp the +first snowflakes began to drift down, slowly at first, then more +rapidly, until the grayness of the sky and the misty woods were +enveloped in the white swirl of the storm. It was not particularly +cold. Bill wrapped her in a heavy canvas coat, and plodded on. Noon +passed, and he made no stop. If anything, he increased his pace. + +Suddenly, late in the afternoon, they stepped out of the timber into a +little clearing, in which the blurred outline of a cabin showed under +the wide arms of a leafless tree. + +The melting snow had soaked through the coat; her feet were wet with +the clinging flakes, and the chill of a lowering temperature had set +Hazel shivering. + +Roaring Bill halted at the door and lifted her down from Silk's back +without the formality of asking her leave. He pulled the latchstring, +and led her in. Beside the rude stone fireplace wood and kindling were +piled in readiness for use. Bill kicked the door shut, dropped on his +knees, and started the fire. In five minutes a great blaze leaped and +crackled into the wide throat of the chimney. Then he piled on more +wood, and turned to her. + +"This is the house that Jack built," he said, with a sober face and a +twinkle in his gray eyes. "This is the man that lives in the house +that Jack built. And this"--he pointed mischievously at her--"is the +woman who's going to love the man that lives in the house that Jack +built." + +"That's a lie!" she flashed stormily through her chattering teeth. + +"Well, we'll see," he answered cheerfully. "Get up here close to the +fire and take off those wet things while I put away the horses." + +And with that he went out, whistling. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A LITTLE PERSONAL HISTORY + +Hazel discarded the wet coat, and, drawing a chair up to the fire, took +off her sopping footgear and toasted her bare feet at the blaze. Her +clothing was also wet, and she wondered pettishly how in the world she +was going to manage with only the garments on her back--and those dirty +and torn from hacking through the brush for a matter of two weeks. +According to her standards, that was roughing it with a vengeance. But +presently she gave over thinking of her plight. The fire warmed her, +and, with the chill gone from her body, she bestowed a curious glance +on her surroundings. + +Her experience of homes embraced only homes of two sorts--the +middle-class, conventional sort to which she had been accustomed, and +the few poorly furnished frontier dwellings she had entered since +coming to the hinterlands of British Columbia. She had a vague +impression that any dwelling occupied exclusively by a man must of +necessity be dirty, disordered, and cheerless. But she had never seen +a room such as the one she now found herself in. It conformed to none +of her preconceived ideas. + +There was furniture of a sort unknown to her, tables and chairs +fashioned by hand with infinite labor and rude skill, massive in +structure, upholstered with the skins of wild beasts common to the +region. Upon the walls hung pictures, dainty black-and-white prints, +and a water color or two. And between the pictures were nailed heads +of mountain sheep and goat, the antlers of deer and caribou. Above +the fireplace spread the huge shovel horns of a moose, bearing across +the prongs a shotgun and fishing rods. The center of the +floor--itself, as she could see, of hand-smoothed logs--was lightened +with a great black and red and yellow rug of curious weave. Covering +up the bare surface surrounding it were bearskins, black and brown. +Her feet rested in the fur of a monster silvertip, fur thicker and +softer than the pile of any carpet ever fabricated by man. All around +the walls ran shelves filled with books. A guitar stood in one corner, +a mandolin in another. The room was all of sixteen by twenty feet, and +it was filled with trophies of the wild--and books. + +Except for the dust that had gathered lightly in its owner's absence, +the place was as neat and clean as if the housemaid had but gone over +it. Hazel shrugged her shoulders. Roaring Bill Wagstaff became, if +anything, more of an enigma than ever, in the light of his dwelling. +She recollected that Cariboo Meadows had regarded him askance, and +wondered why. + +He came in while her gaze was still roving from one object to another, +and threw his wet outer clothing, boy fashion, on the nearest chair. + +"Well," he said, "we're here." + +"Please don't forget, Mr. Wagstaff," she replied coldly, "that I would +much prefer not to be here." + +He stood a moment regarding her with his odd smile. Then he went into +the adjoining room. Out of this he presently emerged, dragging a small +steamer trunk. He opened it, got down on his knees, and pawed over the +contents. Hazel, looking over her shoulder, saw that the trunk was +filled with woman's garments, and sat amazed. + +"Say, little person," Bill finally remarked, "it looks to me as if you +could outfit yourself completely right here." + +"I don't know that I care to deck myself in another woman's finery, +thank you," she returned perversely. + +"Now, see here," Roaring Bill turned reproachfully; "see here--" + +He grinned to himself then, and went again into the other room, +returning with a small, square mirror. He planted himself squarely in +front of her, and held up the glass. Hazel took one look at her +reflection, and she could have struck Roaring Bill for his audacity. +She had not realized what an altogether disreputable appearance a +normally good-looking young woman could acquire in two weeks on the +trail, with no toilet accessories and only the clothes on her back. +She tried to snatch the mirror from him, but Bill eluded her reach, and +laid the glass on the table. + +"You'll feel a whole better able to cope with the situation," he told +her smilingly, "when you get some decent clothes on and your hair +fixed. That's a woman. And you don't need to feel squeamish about +these things. This trunk's got a history, let me tell you. A bunch of +simon-pure tenderfeet strayed into the mountains west of here a couple +of summers ago. There were two women in the bunch. The youngest one, +who was about your age and size, must have had more than her share of +vanity. I guess she figured on charming the bear and the moose, or the +simple aborigines who dwell in this neck of the woods. Anyhow, she had +all kinds of unnecessary fixings along, that trunkful of stuff in the +lot. You can imagine what a nice time their guides had packing that on +a horse, eh? They got into a deuce of a pickle finally, and had to +abandon a lot of their stuff, among other things the steamer trunk. I +lent them a hand, and they told me to help myself to the stuff. So I +did after they were out of the country. That's how you come to have a +wardrobe all ready to your hand. Now, you'd be awful foolish to act +like a mean and stiff-necked female person. You're not going to, are +you?" he wheedled. "Because I want to make you comfortable. What's +the use of getting on your dignity over a little thing like clothes?" + +"I don't intend to," Hazel suddenly changed front. "I'll make myself +as comfortable as I can--particularly if it will put you to any +trouble." + +"You're bound to scrap, eh?" he grinned. "But it takes two to build a +fight, and I positively refuse to fight with _you_." + +He dragged the trunk back into the room, and came out carrying a great +armful of masculine belongings. Two such trips he made, piling all his +things onto a chair. + +"There!" he said at last. "That end of the house belongs to you, +little person. Now, get those wet things off before you catch a cold. +Oh, wait a minute!" + +He disappeared into the kitchen end of the house, and came back with a +wash-basin and a pail of water. + +"Your room is now ready, madam, an it please you." He bowed with mock +dignity, and went back into the kitchen. + +Hazel heard him rattling pots and dishes, whistling cheerfully the +while. She closed the door, and busied herself with an inventory of +the tenderfoot lady's trunk. In it she found everything needful for +complete change, and a variety of garments to boot. Folded in the +bottom of the trunk was a gray cloth skirt and a short blue silk +kimono. There was a coat and skirt, too, of brown corduroy. But the +feminine instinct asserted itself, and she laid out the gray skirt and +the kimono. + +For a dresser Roaring Bill had fashioned a wide shelf, and on it she +found a toilet set complete--hand mirror, military brushes, and sundry +articles, backed with silver and engraved with his initials. Perhaps +with a spice of malice, she put on a few extra touches. There would be +some small satisfaction in tantalizing Bill Wagstaff--even if she could +not help feeling that it might be a dangerous game. And, thus arrayed +in the weapons of her sex, she slipped on the kimono, and went into the +living-room to the cheerful glow of the fire. + +Bill remained busy in the kitchen. Dusk fell. The gleam of a light +showed through a crack in the door. In the big room only the fire gave +battle to the shadows, throwing a ruddy glow into the far corners. +Presently Bill came in with a pair of candles which he set on the +mantel above the fireplace. + +"By Jove!" he said, looking down at her. "You look good enough to eat! +I'm not a cannibal, however," he continued hastily, when Hazel flushed. +She was not used to such plain speaking. "And supper's ready. Come +on!" + +The table was set. Moreover, to her surprise--and yet not so greatly +to her surprise, for she was beginning to expect almost anything from +this paradoxical young man--it was spread with linen, and the cutlery +was silver, the dishes china, in contradistinction to the tinware of +his camp outfit. + +As a cook Roaring Bill Wagstaff had no cause to be ashamed of himself, +and Hazel enjoyed the meal, particularly since she had eaten nothing +since six in the morning. After a time, when her appetite was +partially satisfied, she took to glancing over his kitchen. There +seemed to be some adjunct of a kitchen missing. A fire burned on a +hearth similar to the one in the living room. Pots stood about the +edge of the fire. But there was no sign of a stove. + +Bill finished eating, and resorted to cigarette material instead of his +pipe. + +"Well, little person," he said at last, "what do you think of this +joint of mine, anyway?" + +"I've just been wondering," she replied. "I don't see any stove, yet +you have food here that looks as if it were baked, and biscuits that +must have been cooked in an oven." + +"You see no stove for the good and sufficient reason," he returned, +"that you can't pack a stove on a horse--and we're three hundred odd +miles from the end of any wagon road. With a Dutch oven or two--that +heavy, round iron thing you see there--I can guarantee to cook almost +anything you can cook on a stove. Anybody can if they know how. +Besides, I like things better this way. If I didn't, I suppose I'd +have a stove--and maybe a hot-water supply, and modern plumbing. As it +is, it affords me a sort of prideful satisfaction, which you may or may +not be able to understand, that this cabin and everything in it is the +work of my hands--of stuff I've packed in here with all sorts of effort +from the outside. Maybe I'm a freak. But I'm proud of this place. +Barring the inevitable lonesomeness that comes now and then, I can be +happier here than any place I've ever struck yet. This country grows +on one." + +"Yes--on one's nerves," Hazel retorted. + +Bill smiled, and, rising, began to clear away the dishes. Hazel +resisted an impulse to help. She would not work; she would not lift +her finger to any task, she reminded herself. He had put her in her +present position, and he could wait on her. So she rested an elbow on +the table and watched him. In the midst of his work he stopped +suddenly. + +"There's oceans of time to do this," he observed. "I'm just a wee bit +tired, if anybody should ask you. Let's camp in the other room. It's +a heap more comfy." + +He put more wood on the kitchen fire, and set a pot of water to heat. +Out in the living-room Hazel drew her chair to one side of the hearth. +Bill sprawled on the bearskin robe with another cigarette in his +fingers. + +"No," he began, after a long silence, "this country doesn't get on +one's nerves--not if one is a normal human being. You'll find that. +When I first came up here I thought so, too; it seemed so big and empty +and forbidding. But the more I see of it the better it compares with +the outer world, where the extremes of luxury and want are always in +evidence. It began to seem like home to me when I first looked down +into this little basin. I had a partner then. I said to him: 'Here's +a dandy, fine place to winter.' So we wintered--in a log shack sixteen +foot square that Silk and Satin and Nigger have for a stable now. When +summer came my partner wanted to move on, so I stayed. Stayed and +began to build for the next winter. And I've been working at it ever +since, making little things like chairs and tables and shelves, and +fixing up game heads whenever I got an extra good one. And maybe two +or three times a year I'd go out. Get restless, you know. I'm not +really a hermit by nature. Lord, the things I've packed in here from +the outside! Books--I hired a whole pack train at Ashcroft once to +bring in just books; they thought I was crazy, I guess. I've quit this +place once or twice, but I always come back. It's got that home feel +that I can't find anywhere else. Only it has always lacked one +important home qualification," he finished softly. "Do you ever build +air castles?" + +"No," Hazel answered untruthfully, uneasy at the trend of his talk. +She was learning that Bill Wagstaff, for all his gentleness and +patience with her, was a persistent mortal. + +"Well, I do," he continued, unperturbed. "Lots of 'em. But mostly +around one thing--a woman--a dream woman--because I never saw one that +seemed to fit in until I ran across you." + +"Mr. Wagstaff," Hazel pleaded, "won't you please stop talking like +that? It isn't--it isn't--" + +"Isn't proper, I suppose," Bill supplied dryly. "Now, that's merely an +error, and a fundamental error on your part, little person. Our +emotion and instincts are perfectly proper when you get down to +fundamentals. You've got an artificial standard to judge by, that's +all. And I don't suppose you have the least idea how many lives are +spoiled one way and another by the operation of those same artificial +standards in this little old world. Now, I may seem to you a lawless, +unprincipled individual indeed, because I've acted contrary to your +idea of the accepted order of things. But here's my side of it: I'm in +search of happiness. We all are. I have a few ideals--and very few +illusions. I don't quite believe in this thing called love at first +sight. That presupposes a volatility of emotion that people of any +strength of character arc not likely to indulge in. But--for instance, +a man can have a very definite ideal of the kind of woman he would like +for a mate, the kind of woman he could be happy with and could make +happy. And whenever he finds a woman who corresponds to that ideal +he's apt to make a strenuous attempt to get her. That's pretty much +how I felt about you." + +"You had no right to kidnap me," Hazel cried. + +"You had no business getting lost and making it possible for me to +carry you off," Bill replied. "Isn't that logic?" + +"I'll never forgive you," Hazel flashed. "It was treacherous and +unmanly. There are other ways of winning a woman." + +"There wasn't any other way open to me." Bill grew suddenly moody. +"Not with you in Cariboo Meadows. I'm taboo there. You'd have got a +history of me that would have made you cut me dead; you may have had +the tale of my misdeeds for all I know. No, it was impossible for me +to get acquainted with you in the conventional way. I knew that, and +so I didn't make any effort. Why, I'd have been at your elbow when you +left the supper table at Jim Briggs' that night if I hadn't known how +it would be. I went there out of sheer curiosity to take a look at +you--maybe out of a spirit of defiance, too, because I knew that I was +certainly not welcome even if they were willing to take my money for a +meal. And I came away all up in the air. There was something about +you--the tone of your voice, the way your proud little head is set on +your shoulders, your make-up in general--that sent me away with a +large-sized grouch at myself, at Cariboo Meadows, and at you for coming +in my way." + +"Why?" she asked in wonder. + +"Because you'd have believed what they told you, and Cariboo Meadows +can't tell anything about me that isn't bad," he said quietly. "My +record there makes me entirely unfit to associate with--that would have +been your conclusion. And I wanted to be with you, to talk to you, to +take you by storm and make you like me as I felt I could care for you. +You can't have grown up, little person, without realizing that you do +attract men very strongly. All women do, but some far more than +others." + +"Perhaps," she admitted coldly. "Men have annoyed me with their +unwelcome attentions. But none of them ever dared go the length of +carrying me away against my will. You can't explain or excuse that." + +"I'm not attempting excuses," Bill made answer. "There are two things +I never do--apologize or bully. I dare say that's one reason the +Meadows gives me such a black eye. In the first place, the confounded, +ignorant fools did me a very great injustice, and I've never taken the +trouble to explain to them wherein they were wrong. I came into this +country with a partner six years ago--a white man, if ever one +lived--about the only real man friend I ever had. He was known to have +over three thousand dollars on his person. He took sick and died the +second year, at the head of the Peace, in midwinter. I buried him; +couldn't take him out. Somehow the yarn got to going in the Meadows +that I'd murdered him for his money. The gossip started there because +we had an argument about outfitting while we were there, and roasted +each other as only real pals can. So they got it into their heads I +killed him, and tried to have the provincial police investigate. It +made me hot, and so I wouldn't explain to anybody the circumstances, +nor what became of Dave's three thousand, which happened to be five +thousand by that time, and which I sent to his mother and sister in New +York, as he told me to do when he was dying. When they got to hinting +things the next time I hit the Meadows, I started in to clean out the +town. I think I whipped about a dozen men that time. And once or +twice every season since I've been in the habit of dropping in there +and raising the very devil out of sheer resentment. It's a wonder some +fellow hasn't killed me, for it's a fact that I've thrashed every man +in the blamed place except Jim Briggs--and some of them two or three +times. And I make them line up at the bar and drink at my expense, and +all that sort of foolishness. + +"That may sound to you like real depravity," he concluded, "but it's a +fact in nature that a man has to blow the steam off his chest about +every so often. I have got drunk in Cariboo Meadows, and I have raised +all manner of disturbances there, partly out of pure animal spirits, +and mostly because I had a grudge against them. Consequently I really +have given them reason to look askance at any one--particularly a nice +girl from the East--who would have anything to do with me. If they +weren't a good deal afraid of me, and always laying for a chance to do +me up, they wouldn't let me stay in the town overnight. So you can see +what a handicap I was under when it came to making your acquaintance +and courting you in the orthodox manner." + +"You've made a great mistake," she said bitterly, "if you think you've +removed the handicap. I've suffered a great deal at the hands of men +in the past six months. I'm beginning to believe that all men are +brutes at heart." + +Roaring Bill sat up and clasped his hands over his knees and stared +fixedly into the fire. + +"No," he said slowly, "all men are not brutes--any more than all women +are angels. I'll convince you of that." + +"Take me home, then," she cried forlornly. "That's the only way you +can convince me or make amends." + +"No," Bill murmured, "that isn't the way. Wait till you know me +better. Besides, I couldn't take you out now if I wanted to without +exposing you to greater hardships than you'll have to endure here. Do +you realize that it's fall, and we're in the high latitudes? This snow +may not go off at all. Even if it does it will storm again before a +week. You couldn't wallow through snow to your waist in +forty-below-zero weather." + +"People will pass here, and I'll get word out," Hazel asserted +desperately. + +"What good would that do you? You've got too much conventional regard +for what you term your reputation to send word to Cariboo Meadows that +you're living back here with Roaring Bill Wagstaff, and won't some one +please come and rescue you." He paused to let that sink in, then +continued: "Besides, you won't see a white face before spring; then +only by accident. No one in the North, outside of a few Indians, has +ever seen this cabin or knows where it stands." + +She sat there, dumb, raging inwardly. For the minute she could have +killed Roaring Bill. She who had been so sure in her independence +carried, whether or no, into the heart of the wilderness at the whim of +a man who stood a self-confessed rowdy, in ill repute among his own +kind. There was a slumbering devil in Miss Hazel Weir, and it took +little to wake her temper. She looked at Bill Wagstaff, and her breast +heaved. He was responsible, and he could sit coolly talking about it. +The resentment that had smoldered against Andrew Bush and Jack Barrow +concentrated on Roaring Bill as the arch offender of them all. And +lest she yield to a savage impulse to scream at him, she got up and ran +into the bedroom, slammed the door shut behind her, and threw herself +across the bed to muffle the sound of her crying in a pillow. + +After a time she lifted her head. Outside, the wind whistled gustily +around the cabin corners. In the hushed intervals she heard a steady +pad, pad, sounding sometimes close by her door, again faintly at the +far end of the room. A beam of light shone through the generous +latchstring hole in the door. Stealing softly over, she peeped through +this hole. From end to end of the big room and back again Roaring Bill +paced slowly, looking straight ahead of him with a fixed, absent stare, +his teeth closed on his nether lip. Hazel blinked wonderingly. Many +an hour in the last three months she had walked the floor like that, +biting her lip in mental agony. And then, while she was looking, Bill +abruptly extinguished the candles. In the red gleam from the hearth +she saw him go into the kitchen, closing the door softly. After that +there was no sound but the swirl of the storm brushing at her window. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +WINTER--AND A TRUCE + +In line with Roaring Bill's forecast, the weather cleared for a brief +span, and then winter shut down in earnest. Successive falls of snow +overlaid the earth with a three-foot covering, loose and feathery in +the depths of the forest, piled in hard, undulating windrows in the +scattered openings. Daily the cold increased, till a half-inch layer +of frost stood on the cabin panes. The cold, intense, unremitting, +lorded it over a vast realm of wood and stream; lakes and rivers were +locked fast under ice, and through the clear, still nights the aurora +flaunted its shimmering banners across the northern sky. + +But within the cabin they were snug and warm, Bill's ax kept the +woodpile high. The two fireplaces shone red the twenty-four hours +through. Of flour, tea, coffee, sugar, beans, and such stuff as could +only be gotten from the outside he had a plentiful supply. Potatoes +and certain vegetables that he had grown in a cultivated patch behind +the cabin were stored in a deep cellar. He could always sally forth +and get meat. And the ice was no bar to fishing, for he would cut a +hole, sink a small net, and secure overnight a week's supply of trout +and whitefish. Thus their material wants were provided for. + +As time passed Hazel gradually shook off a measure of her depression, +thrust her uneasiness and resentment into the background. As a matter +of fact, she resigned herself to getting through the winter, since that +was inevitable. She was out of the world, the only world she knew, and +by reason of the distance and the snows there was scant chance of +getting back to that world while winter gripped the North. The spring +might bring salvation. But spring was far in the future, too far ahead +to dwell upon. As much as possible, she refrained from thinking, +wisely contenting herself with getting through one day after another. + +And in so doing she fell into the way of doing little things about the +house, finding speedily that time flew when she busied herself at some +task in the intervals of delving in Roaring Bill's library. + +She could cook--and she did. Her first meal came about by grace of +Roaring Bill's absence. He was hunting, and supper time drew nigh. +She grew hungry, and, on the impulse of the moment, turned herself +loose in the kitchen--largely in a mood for experiment. She had +watched Bill make all manner of things in his Dutch ovens, and observed +how he prepared meat over the glowing coals often enough to get the +hang of it. Wherefore, her first meal was a success. When Roaring +Bill came in, an hour after dark, he found her with cheeks rosy from +leaning over the fire, and a better meal than he could prepare all +waiting for him. He washed and sat down. Hazel discarded her +flour-sack apron and took her place opposite. Bill made no comment +until he had finished and lighted a cigarette. + +"You're certainly a jewel, little person," he drawled then. "How many +more accomplishments have you got up your sleeve?" + +"Do you consider ordinary cooking an accomplishment?" she returned +lightly. + +"I surely do," he replied, "when I remember what an awful mess I made +of it on the start. I certainly did spoil a lot of good grub." + +After that they divided the household duties, and Hazel forgot that she +had vowed to make Bill Wagstaff wait on her hand and foot as the only +penalty she could inflict for his misdeeds. It seemed petty when she +considered the matter, and there was nothing petty about Hazel Weir. +If the chance ever offered, she would make him suffer, but in the +meantime there was no use in being childish. + +She did not once experience the drear loneliness that had sat on her +like a dead weight the last month before she turned her back on +Granville and its unhappy associations. For one thing, Bill Wagstaff +kept her intellectually on the jump. He was always precipitating an +argument or discussion of some sort, in which she invariably came off +second best. His scope of knowledge astonished her, as did his +language. Bill mixed slang, the colloquialisms of the frontier, and +the terminology of modern scientific thought with quaint impartiality. +There were times when he talked clear over her head. And he was by +turns serious and boyish, with always a saving sense of humor. So that +she was eternally discovering new sides to him. + +The other refuge for her was his store of books. Upon the shelves she +found many a treasure-trove--books that she had promised herself to +read some day when she could buy them and had leisure. Roaring Bill +had collected bits of the world's best in poetry and fiction; and last, +but by no means least, the books that stand for evolution and +revolution, philosophy, economics, sociology, and the kindred sciences. +Bill was not orderly. He could put his finger on any book he wanted, +but on his shelves like as not she would find a volume of Haeckel and +another of Bobbie Burns side by side, or a last year's novel snuggling +up against a treatise on social psychology. She could not understand +why a man--a young man--with the intellectual capacity to digest the +stuff that Roaring Bill frequently became immersed in should choose to +bury himself in the wilderness. And once, in an unguarded moment, she +voiced that query. Bill closed a volume of Nietzsche, marking the +place with his forefinger, and looked at her thoughtfully over the book. + +"Well," he said, "there are one or two good and sufficient reasons, to +which you, of course, may not agree. First, though, I'll venture to +assert that your idea of the nature and purpose of life as we humans +know and experience it is rather hazy. Have you ever seriously asked +yourself why we exist as entities at all? And, seeing that we do find +ourselves possessed of this existence, what constrains us to act along +certain lines?" + +Hazel shook her head. That was an abstraction which she had never +considered. She had been too busy living to make a critical analysis +of life. She had the average girl's conception of life, when she +thought of it at all, as a state of being born, of growing up, of +marrying, of trying to be happy, and ultimately--very remotely--of +dying. And she had also the conventional idea that activity in the +world, the world as she knew it, the doing of big things in a public or +semi-public way, was the proper sphere for people of exceptional +ability. But why this should be so, what law, natural or fabricated by +man, made it so she had never asked herself. She had found it so, and +taken it for granted. Roaring Bill Wagstaff was the first man to cross +her path who viewed the struggle for wealth and fame and power as other +than inevitable and desirable. + +"You see, little person," he went on, "we have some very definite +requirements which come of the will to live that dominates all life. +We must eat, we must protect our bodies against the elements, and we +need for comfort some sort of shelter. But in securing these +essentials to self-preservation where is the difference, except in +method, between the banker who manipulates millions and the post-hole +digger on the farm? Not a darned bit, in reality. They're both after +exactly the same thing--security against want. If the post-hole +digger's wants are satisfied by two dollars a day he is getting the +same result as the banker, whose standard of living crowds his big +income. Having secured the essentials, then, what is the next urge of +life? Happiness. That, however, brings us to a more abstract question. + +"In the main, though, that's my answer to your question. Here I can +secure myself a good living--as a matter of fact, I can easily get the +wherewithal to purchase any luxuries that I desire--and it is gotten +without a petty-larceny struggle with my fellow men. Here I exploit +only natural resources, take only what the earth has prodigally +provided. Why should I live in the smoke and sordid clutter of a town +when I love the clean outdoors? The best citizen is the man with a +sound mind and a strong, healthy body; and the only obligation any of +us has to society is not to be a burden on society. So I live in the +wilds the greater part of the year, I keep my muscles in trim, and I +have always food for myself and for any chance wayfarer--and I can look +everybody in the eye and tell them to go to the fiery regions if I +happen to feel that way. What business would I have running a grocery +store, or a bank, or a real-estate office, when all my instincts rebel +against it? What normal being wants to be chained to a desk between +four walls eight or ten hours a day fifty weeks in the year? I'll bet +a nickel there was many a time when you were clacking a typewriter for +a living that you'd have given anything to get out in the green fields +for a while. Isn't that so?" + +Hazel admitted it. + +"You see," Bill concluded, "this civilization of ours, with its +peculiar business ethics, and its funny little air of importance, is a +comparatively recent thing--a product of the last two or three thousand +years, to give it its full historic value. And mankind has been a +great many millions of years in the making, all of which has been spent +under primitive conditions. So that we are as yet barbarians, savages +even, with just a little veneer. Why, man, as such, is only beginning +to get a glimmering of his relation to the universe. Pshaw, though! I +didn't set out to deliver a lecture on evolution. But, believe me, +little person, if I thought that any great good or happiness would +result from my being elsewhere, from scrapping with my fellows in the +world crush, I'd be there with both feet. Do you think you'd be more +apt to care for me if I were to get out and try to set the world afire +with great deeds?" + +"That wasn't the question," she returned distantly, trying, as she +always did, to keep him off the personal note. + +"But it is the question with me," he declared. "I don't know why I let +you go on flouting me." He reached over and caught her arm with a grip +that made her wince. The sudden leap of passion into his eyes +quickened the beat of her heart. "I could break you in two with my +hands without half trying--tame you as the cave men tamed their women, +by main strength. But I don't--by reason of the same peculiar feeling +that would keep me from kicking a man when he was down, I suppose. +Little person, why can't you like me better?" + +"Because you tricked me," she retorted hotly. "Because I trusted you, +and you used that trust to lead me farther astray. Any woman would +hate a man for that. What do you suppose--you, with your knowledge of +life--the world will think of me when I get out of here?" + +But Roaring Bill had collected himself, and sat smiling, and made no +reply. He looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds, then resumed +his reading of the Mad Philosopher, out of whose essays he seemed to +extract a great deal of quiet amusement. + +A day or two after that Hazel came into the kitchen and found Bill +piling towels, napkins, and a great quantity of other soiled articles +on an outspread tablecloth. + +"Well," she inquired, "what are you going to do with those?" + +"Take 'em to the laundry," he laughed. "Collect your dirty duds, and +bring them forth." + +"Laundry!" Hazel echoed. It seemed rather a far-fetched joke. + +"Sure! You don't suppose we can get along forever without having +things washed, do you?" he replied. "I don't mind housework, but I do +draw the line at a laundry job when I don't _have_ to do it. Go +on--get your clothes." + +So she brought out her accumulation of garments, and laid them on the +pile. Bill tied up the four corners of the tablecloth. + +"Now," said he, "let's see if we can't fit you out for a more or less +extended walk. You stay in the house altogether too much these days. +That's bad business. Nothing like exercise in the fresh air." + +Thus in a few minutes Hazel fared forth, wrapped in Bill's fur coat, a +flap-eared cap on her head, and on her feet several pairs of stockings +inside moccasins that Bill had procured from some mysterious source a +day or two before. + +The day was sunny, albeit the air was hazy with multitudes of floating +frost particles, and the tramp through the forest speedily brought the +roses back to her cheeks. Bill carried the bundle of linen on his +back, and trudged steadily through the woods. But the riddle of his +destination was soon read to her, for a two-mile walk brought them out +on the shore of a fair-sized lake, on the farther side of which loomed +the conical lodges of an Indian camp. + +"You sabe now?" said he as they crossed the ice. "This bunch generally +comes in here about this time, and stays till spring. I get the squaws +to wash for me. Ever see Mr. Indian on his native heath?" + +Hazel never had, and she was duly interested, even if a trifle shy of +the red brother who stared so fixedly. She entered a lodge with Bill, +and listened to him make laundry arrangements in broken English with a +withered old beldame whose features resembled a ham that had hung +overlong in the smokehouse. Two or three blanketed bucks squatted by +the fire that sent its blue smoke streaming out the apex of the lodge. + +"Heap fine squaw!" one suddenly addressed Bill. "Where you ketchum?" + +Bill laughed at Hazel's confusion. "Away off." He gestured southward, +and the Indian grunted some unintelligible remark in his own tongue--at +which Roaring Bill laughed again. + +Before they started home Bill succeeded in purchasing, after much talk, +a pair of moccasins that Hazel conceded to be a work of art, what with +the dainty pattern of beads and the ornamentation of colored porcupine +quills. Her feminine soul could not cavil when Bill thrust them in the +pocket of her coat, even if her mind was set against accepting any +peace tokens at his hands. + +And so in the nearing sunset they went home through the frost-bitten +woods, where the snow crunched and squeaked under their feet, and the +branches broke off with a pistol-like snap when they were bent aside. + +A hundred yards from the cabin Bill challenged her to a race. She +refused to run, and he picked her up bodily, and ran with her to the +very door. He held her a second before he set her down, and Hazel's +face whitened. She could feel his breath on her cheek, and she could +feel his arms quiver, and the rapid beat of his heart. For an instant +she thought Roaring Bill Wagstaff was about to make the colossal +mistake of trying to kiss her. + +But he set her gently on her feet and opened the door. And by the time +he had his heavy outer clothes off and the fires started up he was +talking whimsically about their Indian neighbors, and Hazel breathed +more freely. The clearest impression that she had, aside from her +brief panic, was of his strength. He had run with her as easily as if +she had been a child. + +After that they went out many times together. Bill took her hunting, +initiated her into the mysteries of rifle shooting, and the +manipulation of a six-shooter. He taught her to walk on snowshoes, +lightly over the surface of the crusted snow, through which otherwise +she floundered. A sort of truce arose between them, and the days +drifted by without untoward incident, Bill tended to his horses, +chopped wood, carried water. She took upon herself the care of the +house. And through the long evenings, in default of conversation, they +would sit with a book on either side of the fireplace that roared +defiance to the storm gods without. + +And sometimes Hazel would find herself wondering why Roaring Bill +Wagstaff could not have come into her life in a different manner. As +it was--she never, _never_ would forgive him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FIRES OF SPRING + +There came a day when the metallic brilliancy went out of the sky, and +it became softly, mistily blue. All that forenoon Hazel prowled +restlessly out of doors without cap or coat. There was a new feel in +the air. The deep winter snow had suddenly lost its harshness. A +tentative stillness wrapped the North as if the land rested a moment, +gathering its force for some titanic effort. + +Toward evening a mild breeze freshened from the southwest. The tender +blue of the sky faded at sundown to a slaty gray. Long wraiths of +cloud floated up with the rising wind. At ten o'clock a gale whooped +riotously through the trees. And at midnight Hazel wakened to a sound +that she had not heard in months. She rose and groped her way to the +window. The encrusting frost had vanished from the panes. They were +wet to the touch of her fingers. She unhooked the fastening, and swung +the window out. A great gust of damp, warm wind blew strands of hair +across her face. She leaned through the casement, and drops of cold +water struck her bare neck. That which she had heard was the dripping +eaves. The chinook wind droned its spring song, and the bare boughs of +the tree beside the cabin waved and creaked the time. Somewhere +distantly a wolf lifted up his voice, and the long, throaty howl +swelled in a lull of the wind. It was black and ghostly outside, and +strange, murmuring sounds rose and fell in the surrounding forests, as +though all the dormant life of the North was awakening at the seasonal +change. She closed the window and went back to bed. + +At dawn the eaves had ceased their drip, and the dirt roof laid bare to +the cloud-banked sky. From the southwest the wind still blew strong +and warm. The thick winter garment of the earth softened to slush, and +vanished with amazing swiftness. Streams of water poured down every +depression. Pools stood between the house and stable. Spring had +leaped strong-armed upon old Winter and vanquished him at the first +onslaught. + +All that day the chinook blew, working its magic upon the land. When +day broke again with a clearing sky, and the sun peered between the +cloud rifts, his beams fell upon vast areas of brown and green, where +but forty-eight hours gone there was the cold revelry of frost sprites +upon far-flung fields of snow. Patches of earth steamed wherever a +hillside lay bare to the sun. From some mysterious distance a lone +crow winged his way, and, perching on a near-by tree-top, cawed raucous +greeting. + +Hazel cleared away the breakfast things, and stood looking out the +kitchen window. Roaring Bill sat on a log, shirt-sleeved, smoking his +pipe. Presently he went over to the stable, led out his horses, and +gave them their liberty. For twenty minutes or so he stood watching +their mad capers as they ran and leaped and pranced back and forth over +the clearing. Then he walked off into the timber, his rifle over one +shoulder. + +Hazel washed her dishes and went outside. The cabin sat on a benchlike +formation, a shoulder of the mountain behind, and she could look away +westward across miles and miles of timber, darkly green and merging +into purple in the distance. It was a beautiful land--and lonely. She +did not know why, but all at once a terrible feeling of utter +forlornness seized her. It was spring--and also it was spring in other +lands. The wilderness suddenly took on the characteristics of a +prison, in which she was sentenced to solitary confinement. She +rebelled against it, rebelled against her surroundings, against the +manner of her being there, against everything. She hated the North, +she wished to be gone from it, and most of all she hated Bill Wagstaff +for constraining her presence there. In six months she had not seen a +white face, nor spoken to a woman of her own blood. Out beyond that +sea of forest lay the big, active world in which she belonged, of which +she was a part, and she felt that she must get somewhere, do something, +or go mad. + +All the heaviness of heart, all the resentment she had felt in the +first few days when she followed him perforce away from Cariboo +Meadows, came back to her with redoubled force that forenoon. She went +back into the house, now gloomy without a fire, slumped forlornly into +a chair, and cried herself into a condition approaching hysteria. And +she was sitting there, her head bowed on her hands, when Bill returned +from his hunting. The sun sent a shaft through the south window, a +shaft which rested on her drooping head. Roaring Bill walked softly up +behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. + +"What is it, little person?" he asked gently. + +She refused to answer. + +"Say," he bent a little lower, "you know what the Tentmaker said: + + "'Come fill the cup, and in the fire of Spring + Your Winter garment of Repentance fling; + The Bird of Time has but a little way + To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing.' + + +"Life's too short to waste any of it in being uselessly miserable. +Come on out and go for a ride on Silk. I'll take you up on a +mountainside, and show you a waterfall that leaps three hundred feet in +the clear. The woods are waking up and putting on their Easter +bonnets. There's beauty everywhere. Come along!" + +She wrenched herself away from him. + +"I want to go home!" she wailed. "I hate you and the North, and +everything in it. If you've got a spark of manhood left in you, you'll +take me out of here." + +Roaring Bill backed away from her. "Do you mean that? Honest Injun?" +he asked incredulously. + +"I do--I do!" she cried vehemently. "Haven't I told you often enough? +I didn't come here willingly, and I won't stay. I will not! I have a +right to live my life in my own way, and it's not this way." + +"So," Roaring Bill began evenly, "springtime with you only means +getting back to work. You want to get back into the muddled rush of +peopled places, do you? For what? To teach a class in school, or to +be some business shark's slave of the typewriter at ten dollars a week? +You want to be where you can associate with fluffy-ruffle, pompadoured +girls, and be properly introduced to equally proper young men. Lord, +but I seem to have made a mistake! And, by the same token, I'll +probably pay for it--in a way you wouldn't understand if you lived a +thousand years. Well, set your mind at rest. I'll take you out. I'll +take you back to your stamping-ground if that's what you crave. Ye +gods and little fishes, but I have sure been a fool!" + +He sat down on the edge of the table, and Hazel blinked at him, half +scared, and full of wonder. She had grown so used to seeing him calm, +imperturbable, smiling cheerfully no matter what she said or did, that +his passionate outbreak amazed her. She could only sit and look at him. + +He got out his cigarette materials. But his fingers trembled, spilling +the tobacco. And when he tore the paper in his efforts to roll it, he +dashed paper and all into the fireplace with something that sounded +like an oath, and walked out of the house. Nor did he return till the +sun was well down toward the tree-rimmed horizon. When he came back he +brought in an armful of wood and kindling, and began to build a fire. +Hazel came out of her room. Bill greeted her serenely. + +"Well, little person," he said, "I hope you'll perk up now." + +"I'll try," she returned. "Are you really going to take me out?" + +Bill paused with a match blazing in his fingers. + +"I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean,"' he answered +dryly. "We'll start in the morning." + +The dark closed in on them, and they cooked and ate supper in silence. +Bill remained thoughtful and abstracted. He slouched for a time in his +chair by the fire. Then from some place among his books he unearthed a +map, and, spreading it on the table, studied it a while. After that he +dragged in his kyaks from outside, and busied himself packing them with +supplies for a journey--tea and coffee and flour and such things done +up in small canvas sacks. + +And when these preparations were complete he got a sheet of paper and a +pencil, and fell to copying something from the map. He was still at +that, sketching and marking, when Hazel went to bed. + +By all the signs and tokens, Roaring Bill Wagstaff slept none that +night. Hazel herself tossed wakefully, and during her wakeful moments +she could hear him stir in the outer room. And a full hour before +daylight he called her to breakfast. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE OUT TRAIL + +"This time last spring," Bill said to her, "I was piking away north of +those mountains, bound for the head of the Naas to prospect for gold." + +They were camped in a notch on the tiptop of a long divide, a thousand +feet above the general level. A wide valley rolled below, and from the +height they overlooked two great, sinuous lakes and a multitude of +smaller ones. The mountain range to which Bill pointed loomed seventy +miles distance, angling northwest. The sun glinted on the snow-capped +peaks, though they themselves were in the shadow. + +"I've been wondering," Hazel said. "This country somehow seems +different. You're not going back to Cariboo Meadows, are you?" + +Bill bestowed a look of surprise on her. + +"I should say not!" he drawled. "Not that it would make any difference +to me. But I'm very sure you don't want to turn up there in my +company." + +"That's true," she observed. "But all the clothes and all the money I +have in the world are there." + +"Don't let money worry you," he said briefly. "I have got plenty to +see you through. And you can easily buy clothes." + +They were now ten days on the road. Their course had lain across low, +rolling country, bordered by rugged hills, spotted with lakes, and cut +here and there by streams that put Bill Wagstaff to many strange shifts +in crossing. But upon leaving this camp they crossed a short stretch +of low country, and then struck straight into the heart of a +mountainous region. Steadily they climbed, reaching up through gloomy +cañons where foaming cataracts spilled themselves over sheer walls of +granite, where the dim and narrow pack trail was crossed and recrossed +with the footprints of bear and deer and the snowy-coated mountain +goat. The spring weather held its own, and everywhere was the pleasant +smell of growing things. Overhead the wild duck winged his way in +aerial squadrons to the vast solitudes of the North. + +Roaring Bill lighted his evening fire at last at the apex of the pass. +He had traveled long after sundown, seeking a camp ground where his +horses could graze. The fire lit up huge firs, and high above the fir +tops the sky was studded with stars, brilliant in the thin atmosphere. +They ate, and, being weary, lay down to sleep. At sunrise Hazel sat up +and looked about her in silent, wondering appreciation. All the world +spread east and west below. Bill squatted by the fire, piling on wood, +and he caught the expression on her face. + +"Isn't it great?" he said. "I ran across some verses in a magazine a +long time ago. They just fit this, and they've been running in my head +ever since I woke up: + + "'All night long my heart has cried + For the starry moors + And the mountain's ragged flank + And the plunge of oars. + + 'Oh, to feel the Wind grow strong + Where the Trail leaps down. + I could never learn the way + And wisdom of the town. + + 'Where the hill heads split the Tide + Of green and living air + I would press Adventure hard + To her deepest lair.' + + +"The last verse is the best of all," he said thoughtfully. "It has +been my litany ever since I first read it: + + "'I would let the world's rebuke + Like a wind go by, + With my naked soul laid bare + To the naked Sky.' + + +"And here you are," he murmured, "hotfooting it back to where the +world's rebuke is always in evidence, always ready to sting you like a +hot iron if you should chance to transgress one of its petty-larceny +dictums. Well, you'll soon be there. Can you see a glint of blue away +down there? No? Take the glasses." + +She adjusted the binoculars and peered westward from the great height +where the camp sat. Distantly, and far below, the green of the forest +broke down to a hazy line of steel-blue that ran in turn to a huge fog +bank, snow-white in the rising sun. + +"Yes, I can see it now," she said. "A lake?" + +"No. Salt water--a long arm of the Pacific," he replied. "That's +where you and I part company--to your very great relief, I dare say. +But look off in the other direction. Lord, you can see two hundred +miles! If it weren't for the Babine Range sticking up you could look +clear to where my cabin stands. What an outlook! Tens of thousands of +square miles of timber and lakes and rivers! Sunny little valleys; +fish and game everywhere; soil that will grow anything. And scarcely a +soul in it all, barring here and there a fur post or a stray +prospector. Yet human beings by the million herd in filthy tenements, +and never see a blade of green grass the year around. + +"I told you, I think, about prospecting on the head of the Naas last +spring. I fell in with another fellow up there, and we worked +together, and early in the season made a nice little clean-up on a +gravel bar. I have another place spotted, by the way, that would work +out a fortune if a fellow wanted to spend a couple of thousand putting +in some simple machinery. However, when the June rise drove us off our +bar, I pulled clear out of the country. Just took a notion to see the +bright lights again. And I didn't stop short of New York. Do you +know, I lasted there just one week by the calendar. It seems funny, +when you think of it, that a man with three thousand dollars to spend +should get lonesome in a place like New York. But I did. And at the +end of a week I flew. The sole memento of that trip was a couple of +Russell prints--and a very bad taste in my mouth. I had all that money +burning my pockets--and, all told, I didn't spend five hundred. Fancy +a man jumping over four thousand miles to have a good time, and then +running away from it. It was very foolish of me, I think now. If I +had stuck and got acquainted with somebody, and taken in all the good +music, the theaters, and the giddy cafés I wouldn't have got home and +blundered into Cariboo Meadows at the psychological moment to make a +different kind of fool of myself. Well, the longer we live the more we +learn. Day after to-morrow you'll be in Bella Coola. The cannery +steamships carry passengers on a fairly regular schedule to Vancouver. +How does that suit you?" + +"Very well," she answered shortly. + +"And you haven't the least twinge of regret at leaving all this?" He +waved his hand in a comprehensive sweep. + +"I don't happen to have your peculiar point of view," she returned. +"The circumstances connected with my coming into this country and with +my staying here are such as to make me anxious to get away." + +"Same old story," Bill muttered under his breath. + +"What is it?" she asked sharply. + +"Oh, nothing," he said carelessly, and went on with his breakfast +preparations. + +They finished the meal. Bill got his horses up beside the fire, +loading on the packs. Hazel sat on the trunk of a winter-broken fir, +waiting his readiness to start. She heard no sound behind her. But +she did see Roaring Bill stiffen and his face blanch under its tan. +Twenty feet away his rifle leaned against a tree; his belt and +six-shooter hung on a limb above it. He was tucking a keen-edged +hatchet under the pack lashing. And, swinging this up, he jumped--it +seemed--straight at her. But his eyes were fixed on something beyond. + +Before she could move, or even turn to look, so sudden was his +movement, Bill was beside her. The sound of a crunching blow reached +her ears. In the same instant a heavy body collided with her, knocking +her flat. A great weight, a weight which exhaled a rank animal odor, +rolled over her. Her clutching hands briefly encountered some hairy +object. Then she was slammed against the fallen tree with a force that +momentarily stunned her. + +When she opened her eyes again Roaring Bill had her head in his lap, +peering anxiously down. She caught a glimpse of the unsteady hand that +held a cup of water, and she struggled to a sitting posture with a +shudder. Bill's shirt was ripped from the neckband to the wrist, +baring his sinewy arm. And hand, arm, and shoulder were spattered with +fresh blood. His face was spotted where he had smeared it with his +bloody hand. Close by, so close that she could almost reach it, lay +the grayish-black carcass of a bear, Bill's hatchet buried in the +skull, as a woodsman leaves his ax blade stuck in a log. + +"Feel all right?" Bill asked. His voice was husky. + +"Yes, yes," she assured him. "Except for a sort of sickening feeling. +Are you hurt?" + +He shook his head. + +"I thought you were broken in two," he muttered.. "We both fell right +on top of you. Ugh!" + +He sat down on the tree and rested his head on his bloodstained hands, +and Hazel saw that he was quivering from head to foot. She got up and +went over to him. + +"Are you sure you aren't hurt?" she asked again. + +He looked up at her; big sweat drops were gathering on his face. + +"Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared. You looked as if you +were dead, lying there so white and still." + +[Illustration: "Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared."] + +He reached out one long arm and drew her up close to him. + +"Little person," he whispered, "if you just cared one little bit as +much as I do, it would be all right. Look at me. Just the thought of +what might have happened to you has set every nerve in my body jumping. +I'm Samson shorn. Why can't you care? I'd be gooder than gold to +_you_." + +She drew herself away from him without answering--not in fear, but +because her code of ethics, the repressive conventions of her whole +existence urged her to do so in the face of a sudden yearning to draw +his bloody face up close to her and kiss it. The very thought, the +swift surge of the impulse frightened her, shocked her. She could not +understand it, and so she took refuge behind the woman instinct to hold +back, that strange feminine paradox which will deny and shrink from the +dominant impulses of life. And Roaring Bill made no effort to hold +her. He let her go, and fumbled for a handkerchief to wipe his +glistening face. And presently he went over to where a little stream +bubbled among the tree roots and washed his hands and face. Then he +got a clean shirt out of his war bag and disappeared into the brush to +change. When he came out he was himself again, if a bit sober in +expression. + +He finished his packing without further words. Not till the pack +horses were ready, and Silk saddled for her, did he speak again. Then +he cast a glance at the dead bear. + +"By Jove!" he remarked. "I'm about to forget my tomahawk." + +He poked tentatively at the furry carcass with his toe. Hazel came up +and took a curious survey of fallen Bruin. Bill laid hold of the +hatchet and wrenched it loose. + +"I've hunted more or less all my life," he observed, "and I've seen +bear under many different conditions. But this is the first time I +ever saw a bear tackle anybody without cause or warning. I guess this +beggar was strictly on the warpath, looking for trouble on general +principles." + +"Was he after me?" Hazel asked. + +"Well, I don't know whether he had a grudge against you," Bill smiled. +"But he was sure coming with his mouth open and his arms spread wide. +You notice I didn't take time to go after my rifle, and I'm not a +foolhardy person as a rule. I don't tackle a grizzly with a hatchet +unless I'm cornered, believe me. It was lucky he wasn't overly big. +At that, I can feel my hair stand up when I think how he would have +mussed us up if I'd missed that first swing at his head. You'll never +have a closer call. And the same thing might not happen again if you +lived in a bear country for thirty years. + +"It's a pity to let that good skin rot here," Bill concluded slowly; +"but I guess I will. I don't want his pelt. It would always be a +reminder of things--things I'd just as soon forget." + +He tucked the hatchet in its place on the pack. Hazel swung up on +Silk. They tipped over the crest of the mountain, and began the long +descent. + +The evening of the third day from there Bill traveled till dusk. When +camp was made and the fire started, he called Hazel to one side, up on +a little rocky knoll, and pointed out a half dozen pin points of yellow +glimmering distantly in the dark. + +"That's Bella Coola," he told her. "And unless they've made a radical +change in their sailing schedules there should be a boat clear +to-morrow at noon." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE DRONE OF THE HIVE + +A black cloud of smoke was rolling up from the funnel of the _Stanley +D._ as Bill Wagstaff piloted Hazel from the grimy Bella Coola hotel to +the wharf. + +"There aren't many passengers," he told her. "They're mostly cannery +men. But you'll have the captain's wife to chaperon you. She happens +to be making the trip." + +When they were aboard and the cabin boy had shown them to what was +dignified by the name of stateroom, Bill drew a long envelope from his +pocket. + +"Here," he said, "is a little money. I hope you won't let any foolish +pride stand in the way of using it freely. It came easy to me. I dug +it out of Mother Earth, and there's plenty more where it came from. +Seeing that I deprived you of access to your own money and all your +personal belongings, you are entitled to this any way you look at it. +And I want to throw in a bit of gratuitous advice--in case you should +conclude to go back to the Meadows. They probably looked high and low +for you. But there is no chance for them to learn where you actually +did get to unless you yourself tell them. The most plausible +explanation--and if you go there you must make some explanation--would +be for you to say that you got lost--which is true enough--and that you +eventually fell in with a party of Indians, and later on connected up +with a party of white people who were traveling coastward. That you +wintered with them, and they put you on a steamer and sent you to +Vancouver when spring opened. + +"That, I guess, is all," he concluded slowly. "Only I wish"--he caught +her by the shoulders and shook her gently--"I sure do wish it could +have been different, little person. Maybe you'll have a kindlier +feeling for this big old North when you get back into your cities and +towns, with their smoke and smells and business sharks, where it's +everybody for himself and the devil take the hindmost. Maybe some time +when I get restless for human companionship and come out to cavort in +the bright lights for a while, I may pass you on a street somewhere. +This world is very small. Oh, yes--when you get to Vancouver go to the +Ladysmith. It's a nice, quiet hotel in the West End. Any hack driver +knows the place." + +He dropped his hands, and looked steadily at her for a few seconds, +steadily and longingly. + +"Good-by!" he said abruptly--and walked out, and down the gangplank +that was already being cast loose, and away up the wharf without a +backward glance. + +The _Stanley D.'s_ siren woke the echoes along the wooded shore. A +throbbing that shook her from stem to stern betokened the first +turnings of the screw. And slowly she backed into deep water and swung +wide for the outer passage. + +Hazel went out to the rail. Bill Wagstaff had disappeared, but +presently she caught sight of him standing on the shore end of the +wharf, his hands thrust deep in his coat pockets, staring after the +steamer. Hazel waved the envelope that she still held in her hand. +Now that she was independent of him, she felt magnanimous, +forgiving--and suddenly very much alone, as if she had dropped back +into the old, depressing Granville atmosphere. But he gave no +answering sign save that he turned on the instant and went up the hill +to where his horses stood tied among the huddled buildings. And within +twenty minutes the _Stanley D._ turned a jutting point, and Bella Coola +was lost to view. + +Hazel went back into her stateroom and sat down on the berth. +Presently she opened the envelope. There was a thick fold of bills, +her ticket, and both were wrapped in a sheet of paper penciled with +dots and crooked lines. She laid it aside and counted the money. + +"Heavens!" she whispered. "I wish he hadn't given me so much. I +didn't need all that." + +For Roaring Bill had tucked a dozen one-hundred-dollar notes in the +envelope. And, curiously enough, she was not offended, only wishful +that he had been less generous. Twelve hundred dollars was a lot of +money, far more than she needed, and she did not know how she could +return it. She sat a long time with the money in her lap, thinking. +Then she took up the map, recognizing it as the sheet of paper Bill had +worked over so long their last night at the cabin. + +It made the North more clear--a great deal more clear--to her, for he +had marked Cariboo Meadows, the location of his cabin, and Bella Coola, +and drawn dotted lines to indicate the way he had taken her in and +brought her out. The Fraser and its tributaries, some of the crossings +that she remembered were sketched in, the mountains and the lakes by +which his trail had wound. + +"I wonder if that's a challenge to my vindictive disposition?" she +murmured. "I told him so often that I'd make him sweat for his +treachery if ever I got a chance. Ah well--" + +She put away the money and the map, and bestowed a brief scrutiny upon +herself in the cabin mirror. Six months in the wild had given her a +ruddy color, the glow of perfect physical condition. But her garments +were tattered and sadly out of date. The wardrobe of the steamer-trunk +lady had suffered in the winter's wear. She was barely presentable in +the outing suit of corduroy. So that she was inclined to be diffident +about her appearance, and after a time when she was not thinking of the +strange episodes of the immediate past, her mind, womanlike, began to +dwell on civilization and decent clothes. + +The _Stanley D._ bore down Bentick Arm and on through Burke Channel to +the troubled waters of Queen Charlotte Sound, where the blue Pacific +opens out and away to far Oriental shores. After that she plowed south +between Vancouver Island and the rugged foreshores where the Coast +Range dips to the sea, past pleasant isles, and through narrow passes +where the cliffs towered sheer on either hand, and, upon the evening of +the third day, she turned into Burrard Inlet and swept across a harbor +speckled with shipping from all the Seven Seas to her berth at the dock. + +So Hazel came again to a city--a city that roared and bellowed all its +manifold noises in her ears, long grown accustomed to a vast and +brooding silence. Mindful of Bill's parting word, she took a hack to +the Ladysmith. And even though the hotel was removed from the business +heart of the city, the rumble of the city's herculean labors reached +her far into the night. She lay wakefully, staring through her open +window at the arc lights winking in parallel rows, listening to the +ceaseless hum of man's activities. But at last she fell asleep, and +dawn of a clear spring day awakened her. + +She ate her breakfast, and set forth on a shopping tour. To such +advantage did she put two of the hundred-dollar bills that by noon she +was arrayed in a semi-tailored suit of gray, spring hat, shoes, and +gloves to match. She felt once more at ease, less conscious that +people stared at her frayed and curious habiliments. With a complete +outfit of lingerie purchased, and a trunk in which to store it +forwarded to her hotel, her immediate activity was at an end, and she +had time to think of her next move. + +And, brought face to face with that, she found herself at something of +a loss. She had no desire to go back to Cariboo Meadows, even to get +what few personal treasures she had left behind. Cariboo Meadows was +wiped off the slate as far as she was concerned. Nevertheless, she +must make her way. Somehow she must find a means to return the unused +portion of the--to her--enormous sum Roaring Bill had placed in her +hands. She must make her own living. The question that troubled her +was: How, and where? She had her trade at her finger ends, and the +storied office buildings of Vancouver assured her that any efficient +stenographer could find work. But she looked up as she walked the +streets at the high, ugly walls of brick and steel and stone, and her +heart misgave her. + +So for the time being she promised herself a holiday. In the afternoon +she walked the length of Hastings Street, where the earth trembled with +the roaring traffic of street cars, wagons, motors, and where folk +scuttled back and forth across the way in peril of their lives. She +had seen all the like before, but now she looked upon it with different +eyes; it possessed somehow a different significance, this bustle and +confusion which had seemingly neither beginning nor end, only sporadic +periods of cessation. + +She sat in a candy parlor and watched people go by, swarming like bees +along the walk. She remembered having heard or read somewhere the +simile of a human hive. The shuffle of their feet, the hum of their +voices droned in her cars, confusing her, irritating her, and she +presently found herself hurrying away from it, walking rapidly eastward +toward a thin fringe of trees which showed against a distant sky-line +over a sea of roofs. She walked fast, and before long the jar of solid +heels on the concrete pavement bred an ache in her knees. Then she +caught a car passing in that direction, and rode to the end of the +line, where the rails ran out in a wilderness of stumps. + +Crossing through these, she found a rudely graded highway, which in +turn dwindled to a mere path. It led her through a pleasant area of +second-growth fir, slender offspring of the slaughtered forest +monarchs, whose great stumps dotted the roll of the land, and up on a +little rise whence she could overlook the city and the inlet where rode +the tall-masted ships and sea-scarred tramps from deep salt water. And +for the time being she was content. + +But a spirit of restlessness drove her back into the city. And at +nightfall she went up to her room and threw herself wearily on the bed. +She was tired, body and spirit, and lonely. Nor was this lightened by +the surety that she would be lonelier still before she found a niche to +fit herself in and gather the threads of her life once more into some +orderly pattern. + +In the morning she felt better, even to the point of going over the +newspapers and jotting down several advertisements calling for office +help. Her brief experience in Cariboo Meadows had not led her to look +kindly on teaching as a means of livelihood. And stenographers seemed +to be in demand. Wherefore, she reasoned that wages would be high. +With the list in her purse, she went down on Hastings--which runs like +a huge artery through the heart of the city, with lesser streets +crossing and diverging. + +But she made no application for employment. For on the corner of +Hastings and Seymour, as she gathered her skirt in her hand to cross +the street, some one caught her by the arm, and cried: + +"Well, forevermore, if it isn't Hazel Weir!" + +And she turned to find herself facing Loraine Marsh--a Granville school +chum--and Loraine's mother. Back of them, with wide and startled eyes, +loomed Jack Barrow. + +He pressed forward while the two women overwhelmed Hazel with a flood +of exclamations and questions, and extended his hand. Hazel accepted +the overture. She had long since gotten over her resentment against +him. She was furthermore amazed to find that she could meet his eye +and take his hand without a single flutter of her pulse. It seemed +strange, but she was glad of it. And, indeed, she was too much taken +up with Loraine Marsh's chatter, and too genuinely glad to hear a +friendly voice again, to dwell much on ghosts of the past. + +They stood a few minutes on the corner; then Mrs. Marsh proposed that +they go to the hotel, where they could talk at their leisure and in +comfort. Loraine and her mother took the lead. Barrow naturally fell +into step with Hazel. + +"I've been wearing sackcloth and ashes, Hazel," he said humbly. "And I +guess you've got about a million apologies coming from everybody in +Granville for the shabby way they treated you. Shortly after you left, +somebody on one of the papers ferreted out the truth of that Bush +affair, and the vindictive old hound's reasons for that compromising +legacy were set forth. It seems this newspaper fellow connected up +with Bush's secretary and the nurse. Also, Bush appears to have kept a +diary--and kept it posted up to the day of his death--poured out all +his feelings on paper, and repeatedly asserted that he would win you or +ruin you. And it seems that that night after you refused to come to +him when he was hurt, he called in his lawyer and made that +codicil--and spent the rest of the time till he died gloating over the +chances of it besmirching your character." + +"I've grown rather indifferent about it," Hazel replied impersonally. +"But he succeeded rather easily. Even you, who should have known me +better, were ready to believe the very worst." + +"I've paid for it," Barrow pleaded. "You don't know how I've hated +myself for being such a cad. But it taught me a lesson--if you'll not +hold a grudge against me. I've wondered and worried about you, +disappearing the way you did. Where have you been, and how have you +been getting on? You surely look well." He bent an admiring glance on +her. + +"Oh, I've been every place, and I can't complain about not getting on," +she answered carelessly. + +For the life of her, she could not help making comparisons between the +man beside her and another who she guessed would by now be bearing up +to the crest of the divide that overlooked the green and peaceful vista +of forest and lake, with the Babine Range lying purple beyond. She +wondered if Roaring Bill Wagstaff would ever, under any circumstances, +have looked on her with the scornful, angry distrust that Barrow had +once betrayed. And she could not conceive of Bill Wagstaff ever being +humble or penitent for anything he had done. Barrow's attitude was +that of a little boy who had broken some plaything in a fit of anger +and was now woefully trying to put the pieces together again. It +amused her. Indeed, it afforded her a distinctly un-Christian +satisfaction, since she was not by nature of a meek or forgiving +spirit. He had made her suffer; it was but fitting that he should know +a pang or two himself. + +Hazel visited with the three of them in the hotel parlor for a matter +of two hours, went to luncheon with them, and at luncheon Loraine Marsh +brought up the subject of her coming home to Granville with them. The +Bush incident was discussed and dismissed. On the question of +returning, Hazel was noncommittal. The idea appealed strongly to her. +Granville was home. She had grown up there. There were a multitude of +old ties, associations, friends to draw her back. But whether her home +town would seem the same, whether she would feel the same toward the +friends who had held aloof in the time when she needed a friend the +most, even if they came flocking back to her, was a question that she +thought of if she did not put it in so many words. On the other hand, +she knew too well the drear loneliness that would close upon her in +Vancouver when the Marshes left. + +"Of course you'll come! We won't hear of leaving you behind. So you +can consider that settled." Loraine Marsh declared at last. "We're +going day after to-morrow. So is Mr. Barrow." + +Jack walked with her out to the Ladysmith, and, among other things, +told her how he happened to be in the coast city. + +"I've been doing pretty well lately," he said. "I came out here on a +deal that involved about fifty thousand dollars. I closed it up just +this morning--and the commission would just about buy us that little +house we had planned once. Won't you let bygones be bygones, Hazie?" + +"It might be possible, Jack," she answered slowly, "if it were not for +the fact that you took the most effective means a man could have taken +to kill every atom of affection I had for you. I don't feel bitter any +more--I simply don't feel at all." + +"But you will," he said eagerly. "Just give me a chance. I was a +hot-headed, jealous fool, but I never will be again. Give me a chance, +Hazel." + +"You'll have to make your own chances," she said deliberately. "I +refuse to bind myself in any way. Why should I put myself out to make +you happy when you destroyed all the faith I had in you? You simply +didn't trust me. You wouldn't trust me again. If slander could turn +you against me once it might a second time. Besides, I don't care for +you as a man wants a woman to care for him. And I don't think I'm +going to care--except, perhaps, in a friendly way." + +And with that Barrow had to be content. + +He called for her the next day, and took her, with the Marshes, out for +a launch ride, and otherwise devoted himself to being an agreeable +cavalier. On the launch excursion it was settled definitely that Hazel +should accompany them East. She had no preparations to make. The only +thing she would like to have done--return Roaring Bill's surplus +money--she could not do. She did not know how or where to reach him +with a letter. So far as Granville was concerned, she could always +leave it if she desired, and she was a trifle curious to know how all +her friends would greet her now that the Bush mystery was cleared up +and the legacy explained. + +So that at dusk of the following day she and Loraine Marsh sat in a +Pullman, flattening their noses against the car window, taking a last +look at the environs of Vancouver as the train rolled through the +outskirts of the city. Hazel told herself that she was going home. +Barrow smiled friendly assurance over the seat. + +Even so, she was restless, far from content. There was something +lacking. She grew distrait, monosyllabic, sat for long intervals +staring absently into the gloom beyond the windowpane. The Limited was +ripping through forested land. She could see now and then tall +treetops limned against the starlit sky. The ceaseless roar of the +trucks and the buzz of conversation in the car irritated her. At half +after eight she called the porter and had him arrange her section for +the night. And she got into bed, thankful to be by herself, depressed +without reason. + +She slept for a time, her sleep broken into by morbid dreams, and +eventually she wakened to find her eyes full of tears. She did not +know why she should cry, but cry she did till her pillow grew +moist--and the heavy feeling in her breast grew, if anything, more +intense. + +She raised on one elbow and looked out the window. The train slowed +with a squealing of brakes and the hiss of escaping air to a station. +On the signboard over the office window she read the name of the place +and the notation: "Vancouver, 180 miles." + +Her eyes were still wet. When the Limited drove east again she +switched on the tiny electric bulb over her head, and fumbled in her +purse for another handkerchief. Her fingers drew forth, with the bit +of linen, a folded sheet of paper, which seemed to hypnotize her, so +fixedly did she remain looking at it. A sheet of plain white paper, +marked with dots and names and crooked lines that stood for rivers, +with shaded patches that meant mountain ranges she had seen--Bill +Wagstaff's map. + +She stared at it a long time. Then she found her time-table, and ran +along the interminable string of station names till she found Ashcroft, +from whence northward ran the Appian Way of British Columbia, the +Cariboo Road, over which she had journeyed by stage. She noted the +distance, and the Limited's hour of arrival, and looked at her watch. +Then a feverish activity took hold of her. She dressed, got her suit +case from under the berth, and stuffed articles into it, regardless of +order. Her hat was in a paper bag suspended from a hook above the +upper berth. Wherefore, she tied a silk scarf over her head. + +That done, she set her suit case in the aisle, and curled herself in +the berth, with her face pressed close against the window. A whimsical +smile played about her mouth, and her fingers tap-tapped steadily on +the purse, wherein was folded Bill Wagstaff's map. + +And then out of the dark ahead a cluster of lights winked briefly, the +shriek of the Limited's whistle echoed up and down the wide reaches of +the North Thompson, and the coaches came to a stop. Hazel took one +look to make sure. Then she got softly into the aisle, took up her +suit case, and left the car. At the steps she turned to give the car +porter a message. + +"Tell Mrs. Marsh--the lady in lower five," she said, with a dollar to +quicken his faculties, "that Miss Weir had to go back. Say that I will +write soon and explain." + +She stood back in the shadow of the station for a few seconds. The +Limited's stop was brief. When the red lights went drumming down the +track, she took up her suit case and walked uptown to the hotel where +she had tarried overnight once before. + +The clerk showed her to a room. She threw her suit case on the bed and +turned the key in the lock. Then she went over, and, throwing up the +window to its greatest height, sat down and looked steadily toward the +north, smiling to herself. + +"I can find him," she suddenly said aloud. "Of course I can find him!" + +And with that she blew a kiss from her finger-tips out toward the dark +and silent North, pulled down the shade, and went quietly to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +AN ENDING AND A BEGINNING + +Unconsciously, by natural assimilation, so to speak, Hazel Weir had +absorbed more woodcraft than she realized in her over-winter stay in +the high latitudes. Bill Wagstaff had once told her that few people +know just what they can do until they are compelled to try, and upon +this, her second journey northward, the truth of that statement grew +more patent with each passing day. Little by little the vast central +interior of British Columbia unfolded its orderly plan of watercourses, +mountain ranges, and valleys. She passed camping places, well +remembered of that first protesting journey. And at night she could +close her eyes beside the camp fires and visualize the prodigious +setting of it all--eastward the pyramided Rockies, westward lesser +ranges, the Telegraph, the Babine; and through the plateau between the +turbulent Frazer, bearing eastward from the Rockies and turning +abruptly for its long flow south, with its sinuous doublings and +turnings that were marked in bold lines on Bill Wagstaff's map. + +So trailing north with old Limping George, his fat _klootch_, and two +half-grown Siwash youths, Hazel bore steadily across country, driving +as straight as the rolling land allowed for the cabin that snuggled in +a woodsy basin close up to the peaks that guard Pine River Pass. + +There came a day when brief uncertainty became sure knowledge at sight +of an L-shaped body of water glimmering through the fire-thinned +spruce. Her heart fluttered for a minute. Like a homing bird, by +grace of the rude map and Limping George, she had come to the lake +where the Indians had camped in the winter, and she could have gone +blindfolded from the lake to Roaring Bill's cabin. + +On the lake shore, where the spruce ran out to birch and cottonwood, +she called a halt. + +"Make camp," she instructed. "Cabin over there," she waved her hand. +"I go. Byemby come back." + +Then she urged her pony through the light timber growth and across the +little meadows where the rank grass and strange varicolored flowers +were springing up under the urge of the warm spring sun. Twenty +minutes brought her to the clearing. The grass sprang lush there, and +the air was pleasant with odors of pine and balsam wafted down from the +mountain height behind. But the breath of the woods was now a matter +of small moment, for Silk and Satin and Nigger loafing at the sunny end +of the stable pricked up their ears at her approach, and she knew that +Roaring Bill was home again. She tied her horse to a sapling and drew +nearer. The cabin door stood wide. + +A brief panic seized her. She felt a sudden shrinking, a wild desire +for headlong flight. But it passed. She knew that for good or ill she +would never turn back. And so, with her heart thumping tremendously +and a tentative smile curving her lips, she ran lightly across to the +open door. + +On the soft turf her footsteps gave forth no sound. She gained the +doorway as silently as a shadow. Roaring Bill faced the end of the +long room, but he did not see her, for he was slumped in the big chair +before the fireplace, his chin sunk on his breast, staring straight +ahead with absent eyes. + +In all the days she had been with him she had never seen him look like +that. It had been his habit, his defense, to cover sadness with a +smile, to joke when he was hurt. That weary, hopeless expression, the +wry twist of his lips, wrung her heart and drew from her a yearning +little whisper: + +"Bill!" + +He came out of his chair like a panther. And when his eyes beheld her +in the doorway he stiffened in his tracks, staring, seeing, yet +reluctant to believe the evidence of his vision. His brows wrinkled. +He put up one hand and absently ran it over his cheek. + +"I wonder if I've got to the point of seeing things," he said slowly. +"Say, little person, is it your astral body, or is it really you?" + +"Of course it's me," she cried tremulously, and with fine disregard for +her habitual preciseness of speech. + +He came up close to her and pinched her arm with a gentle pressure, as +if he had to feel the material substance of her before he could +believe. And then he put his hands on her shoulders, as he had done on +the steamer that day at Bella Coola, and looked long and earnestly at +her--looked till a crimson wave rose from her neck to the roots of her +dark, glossy hair. And with that Roaring Bill took her in his arms, +cuddled her up close to him, and kissed her, not once but many times. + +"You really and truly came back, little person," he murmured. "Lord, +Lord--and yet they say the day of miracles is past." + +"You didn't think I would, did you?" she asked, with her blushing face +snuggled against his sturdy breast. "Still, you gave me a map so that +I could find the place?" + +"That was just taking a desperate chance. No, I never expected to see +you again, unless by accident," he said honestly. "And I've been +crying the hurt of it to the stars all the way back from the coast. I +only got here yesterday. I pretty near passed up coming back at all. +I didn't see how I could stay, with everything to remind me of you. +Say, but it looked like a lonesome hole. I used to love this +place--but I didn't love it last night. It seemed about the most +cheerless and depressing spot I could have picked. I think I should +have ended up by touching a match to the whole business and hitting the +trail to some new country. I don't know. I'm not weak. But I don't +think I could have stayed here long." + +They stood silent in the doorway for a long interval, Bill holding her +close to him, and she blissfully contented, careless and unthinking of +the future, so filled was she with joy of the present. + +"Do you love me much, little person?" Bill asked, after a little. + +She nodded vigorous assent. + +"Why?" he desired to know. + +"Oh, just because--because you're a man, I suppose," she returned +mischievously. + +"The world's chuck-full of men," Bill observed. + +"Surely," she looked up at him. "But they're not like you. Maybe it's +bad policy to start in flattering you, but there aren't many men of +your type, Billy-boy; big and strong and capable, and at the same time +kind and patient and able to understand things, things a woman can't +always put into words. Last fall you hurt my pride and nearly scared +me to death by carrying me off in that lawless, headlong fashion of +yours. But you seemed to know just how I felt about it, and you played +fairer than any man I ever knew would have done under the same +circumstances. I didn't realize it until I got back into the civilized +world. And then all at once I found myself longing for you--and for +these old forests and the mountains and all. So I came back." + +"Wise girl," he kissed her. "You'll never be sorry, I hope. It took +some nerve, too. It's a long trail from here to the outside. But this +North country--it gets in your blood--if your blood's red--and I don't +think there's any water in your veins, little person. Lord! I'm +afraid to let go of you for fear you'll vanish into nothing, like a +Hindu fakir stunt." + +"No fear," Hazel laughed. "I've got a pony tied to a tree out there, +and four Siwashes and a camp outfit over by Crooked Lake. If I should +vanish I'd leave a plain trail for you to follow." + +"Well," Bill said, after a short silence, "it's a hundred and forty +miles to a Hudson's Bay post where there's a mission and a preacher. +Let's be on our way and get married. Then we'll come back here and +spend our honeymoon. Eh?" + +She nodded assent. + +"Are you game to start in half an hour?" he asked, holding her off at +arm's length admiringly. + +"I'm game for anything, or I wouldn't be here," she retorted. + +"All right. You just watch an exhibition of speedy packing," Bill +declared--and straightway fell to work. + +Hazel followed him about, helping to get the kyaks packed with food. +They caught the three horses, and Bill stripped the pony of Hazel's +riding gear and placed a pack on him. Then he put her saddle on Silk. + +"He's your private mount henceforth," Bill told her laughingly. +"You'll ride him with more pleasure than you did the first time, won't +you?" + +Presently they were ready to start, planning to ride past Limping +George's camp and tell him whither they were bound. Hazel was already +mounted. Roaring Bill paused, with his toe in the stirrup, and smiled +whimsically at her over his horse's back. + +"I forgot something," said he, and went back into the cabin--whence he +shortly emerged, bearing in his hand a sheet of paper upon which +something was written in bold, angular characters. This he pinned on +the door. Hazel rode Silk close to see what it might be, and laughed +amusedly, for Bill had written: + +"Mr. and Mrs. William Wagstaff will be at home to their friends on and +after June the twentieth." + +He swung up into his saddle, and they jogged across the open. In the +edge of the first timber they pulled up and looked backward at the +cabin drowsing silently under its sentinel tree. Roaring Bill reached +out one arm and laid it across Hazel's shoulders. + +"Little person," he said soberly, "here's the end of one trail, and the +beginning of another--the longest trail either of us has ever faced. +How does it look to you?" + +She caught his fingers with a quick, hard pressure. + +"All trails look alike to me," she said, with shining eyes, "just so we +hit them together." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A BRIEF TIME OF PLANNING + +"What day of the month is this, Bill?" Hazel asked. + +"Haven't the least idea," he answered lazily. "Time is of no +consequence to me at the present moment." + +They were sitting on the warm earth before their cabin, their backs +propped comfortably against a log, watching the sun sink behind a +distant sky-line all notched with purple mountains upon which snow +still lingered. Beside them a smudge dribbled a wisp of smoke +sufficient to ward off a pestilential swarm of mosquitoes and black +flies. In the clear, thin air of that altitude the occasional voices +of what bird and animal life was abroad in the wild broke into the +evening hush with astonishing distinctness--a lone goose winged above +in wide circles, uttering his harsh and solitary cry. He had lost his +mate, Bill told her. Far off in the bush a fox barked. The evening +flight of the wild duck from Crooked Lake to a chain of swamps passed +intermittently over the clearing with a sibilant whistle of wings. To +all the wild things, no less than to the two who watched and listened +to the forest traffic, it was a land of peace and plenty. + +"We ought to go up to the swamps to-morrow and rustle some duck eggs," +Bill observed irrelevantly--his eyes following the arrow flight of a +mallard flock. But his wife was counting audibly, checking the days +off on her fingers. + +"This is July the twenty-fifth, Mr. Roaring Bill Wagstaff," she +announced. "We've been married exactly one month." + +"A whole month?" he echoed, in mock astonishment. "A regular calendar +month of thirty-one days, huh? You don't say so? Seems like it was +only day before yesterday, little person." + +"I wonder," she snuggled up a little closer to him, "if any two people +were ever as happy as we've been?" + +Bill put his arm across her shoulders and tilted her head back so that +he could smile down into her face. + +"They have been a bunch of golden days, haven't they?" he whispered. +"We haven't come to a single bump in the road yet. You won't forget +this joy time if we ever do hit real hard going, will you, Hazel?" + +"The bird of ill omen croaks again," she reproved. "Why should we come +to hard going, as you call it?" + +"We shouldn't," he declared. "But most people do. And we might. One +never can tell what's ahead. Life takes queer and unexpected turns +sometimes. We've got to live pretty close to each other, depend +absolutely on each other in many ways--and that's the acid test of +human companionship. By and by, when the novelty wears off--maybe +you'll get sick of seeing the same old Bill around and nobody else. +You see I've always been on my good behavior with you. Do you like me +a lot?" + +His arm tightened with a quick and powerful pressure, then suddenly +relaxed to let her lean back and stare up at him tenderly. + +"I ought to punish you for saying things like that," she pouted. "Only +I can't think of any effective method. Sufficient unto the day is the +evil thereof--and there is no evil in _our_ days." + +"Amen," he whispered softly--and they fell to silent contemplation of +the rose and gold that spread in a wonderful blazon over all the +western sky. + +"Twenty-fifth of July, eh?" he mused presently. "Summer's half gone +already. I didn't realize it. We ought to be stirring pretty soon, +lady." + +"Let's stir into the house, then," she suggested. "These miserable +little black flies have found a tender place on me. My, but they're +bloodthirsty insects." + +Bill laughed, and they took refuge in the cabin, the doorways and +windows of which were barricaded with cotton mosquito net against the +winged swarms that buzzed hungrily without. Ensconced in the big chair +by the fireplace, with Bill sprawled on the bearskin at her feet, Hazel +came back to his last remark. + +"Why did you say it was time for us to be stirring, Billum?" + +"Because these Northern seasons are so blessed short," he answered. +"We ought to try and do a little good for ourselves--make hay while the +sun shines. We'll needa da mon'." + +"Needa fiddlesticks," she laughed. "What do we need money for? It +costs practically nothing to live up here. Why this sudden desire to +pursue the dollar? Besides, how are you going to pursue it?" + +"Go prospecting," he replied promptly. "Hit the trail for a place I +know where there's oodles of coarse gold, if you can get to it at low +water. How'd you like to go into the Upper Naas country this fall, +trap all winter, work the sand bars in the spring, and come out next +fall with a sack of gold it would take a horse to pack?" + +Hazel clapped her hands. + +"Oh, Bill, wouldn't that be fine?" she cried. Across her mind flashed +a vivid picture of the journey, pregnant with adventure, across the +wild hinterlands--they two together. "I'd love to." + +"It won't be all smooth sailing," he warned. "It's a long trip and a +hard one, and the winter will be longer and harder than the trip. We +won't have the semi-luxuries we've got here in this cabin. Not by a +long shot. Still, there's a chance for a good big stake, right in that +one trip." + +"But why the necessity for making a stake?" she inquired thoughtfully, +after a lapse of five minutes. "I thought you didn't care anything +about money so long as you had enough to get along on? And we surely +have that. We've got over two thousand dollars in real money--and no +place to spend it--so we're compelled to save." + +Bill blew a smoke ring over his head and watched it vanish up toward +the dusky roof beams before he answered. + +"Well, little person," said he, "that's very true, and we can't +truthfully say that stern necessity is treading on our heels. The +possession of money has never been a crying need with me. But I hadn't +many wants when I was playing a lone hand, and I generally let the +future take care of itself. It was always easy to dig up money enough +to buy books and grub or anything I wanted. Now that I've assumed a +certain responsibility, it has begun to dawn on me that we'd enjoy life +better if we were assured of a competence. We can live on the country +here indefinitely. But we won't stay here always. I'm pretty much +contented just now. So are you. But I know from past experience that +the outside will grow more alluring as time passes. You'll get +lonesome for civilization. It's the most natural thing in the world. +And when we go out to mix with our fellow humans we want to meet them +on terms of worldly equality. Which is, to say with good clothes on, +and a fat bank roll in our pocket. The best is none too good for us, +lady. And the best costs money. Anyway, I'll plead guilty to +changing, or, rather, modifying my point of view--getting married has +opened up new vistas of pleasure for us that call for dollars. And +last, but not least, old girl, while I love to loaf, I can only loaf +about so long in contentment. Sabe? I've got to be doing _something_; +whether it was profitable or not has never mattered, just so it was +action." + +"I sabe, as you call it," Hazel smiled. "Of course I do. Only lazy +people like to loaf all the time. I love this place, and we might stay +here for years and be satisfied. But--" + +"But we'd be better satisfied to stay if we knew that we could leave it +whenever we wanted to," he interrupted. "That's the psychology of the +human animal, all right. We don't like to be coerced, even by +circumstances. Well, granted health, one can be boss of old Dame +Circumstance, if one has the price in cold cash. It's a melancholy +fact that the good things of the world can only be had for a +consideration." + +"If you made a lot of money mining, we could travel--one could do lots +of things," she reflected. "I don't think I'd want to live in a city +again. But it would be nice to go there sometimes." + +"Yes, dear girl, it would," Bill agreed. "With a chum to help you +enjoy things. I never got much fun out of the bright lights by +myself--it was too lonesome. I used to prowl around by myself with an +analytical eye upon humanity, and I was always bumping into a lot of +sordidness and suffering that I couldn't in the least remedy, and it +often gave me a bad taste in my mouth. Then I'd beat it for the +woods--and they always looked good to me. The trouble was that I had +too much time to think, and nothing to do when I hit a live town. It +would be different now. We can do things together that I couldn't do +alone, and you couldn't do alone. Remains only to get the wherewithal. +And since I know how to manage that with a minimum amount of effort, +I'd like to be about it before somebody else gets ahead of me. Though +there's small chance of that." + +"We'll be partners," said she. "How will we divide the profits, +Billum?" + +"We'll split even," he declared. "That is, I'll make the money, and +you'll spend it." + +They chuckled over this conceit, and as the dusk closed in slowly they +fell to planning the details. Hazel lit the lamp, and in its yellow +glow pored over maps while Bill idly sketched their route on a sheet of +paper. His objective lay east of the head of the Naas proper, where +amid a wild tangle of mountains and mountain torrents three turbulent +rivers, the Stikine, the Skeena, and the Naas, took their rise. A +God-forsaken region, he told her, where few white men had penetrated. +The peaks flirted with the clouds, and their sides were scarred with +glaciers. A lonesome, brooding land, the home of a vast and +seldom-broken silence. + +"But there's all kinds of game and fur in there," Bill remarked +thoughtfully. "And gold. Still, it's a fierce country for a man to +take his best girl into. I don't know whether I ought to tackle it." + +"We couldn't be more isolated than we are here," Hazel argued, "if we +were in the arctic. Look at that poor woman at Pelt House. Three +babies born since she saw a doctor or another woman of her own color! +What's a winter by ourselves compared to that. And _she_ didn't think +it so great a hardship. Don't you worry about me, Mr. Bill. I think +it will be fun. I'm a real pioneer at heart. The wild places look +good to me--when you're along." + +She received her due reward for that, and then, the long twilight +having brought the hour to a lateness that manifested itself by sundry +yawns on their part, they went to bed. + +With breakfast over, Bill put a compass in his pocket, after having +ground his ax blade to a keen edge. + +"Come on," said he, then; "I'm going to transact some important +business." + +"What is it?" she promptly demanded with much curiosity. + +"This domicile of ours, girl," he told her, while he led the way +through the surrounding timber, "is ours only by grace of the +wilderness. It's built on unsurveyed government land--land that I have +no more legal claim to than any passing trapper. I never thought of it +before--which goes to show that this double-harness business puts a +different face on 'most everything. But I'm going to remedy that. Of +course, it may be twenty years before this country begins to settle up +enough so that some individual may cast a covetous eye on this +particular spot--but I'm not going to take any chances. I'm going to +formally stake a hundred and sixty acres of this and apply for its +purchase. Then we'll have a cinch on our home. We'll always have a +refuge to fly to, no matter where we go." + +She nodded appreciation of this. The cabin in the clearing stood for +some of those moments that always loom large and unforgettable in every +woman's experience. She had come there once in hot, shamed anger, and +she had come again as a bride. It was the handiwork of a man she loved +with a passion that sometimes startled her by its intensity. She had +plumbed depths of bitterness there, and, contrariwise, reached a point +of happiness she had never believed possible. Just the mere +possibility of that place being given over to others roused in her a +pang of resentment. It was theirs, hers and Bill's, and, being a +woman, she viewed its possession jealously. + +So she watched with keen interest what he did. Which, in truth, was +simple enough. He worked his way to a point southeast of the clearing +till they gained a little rise whence through the treetops they could +look back and see the cabin roof. There Bill cut off an eight-inch +jack pine, leaving the stump approximately four feet high. This he +hewed square, the four flat sides of the post facing respectively the +cardinal points of the compass. On one smoothed surface Bill set to +work with his pocketknife. Hazel sat down and watched while he busied +himself at this. And when he had finished she read, in deep-carved +letters: + + W. WAGSTAFF'S S. E. CORNER. + + +Then he penned on a sheet of letter paper a brief notice to the effect +that he, William Wagstaff, intended to apply for the purchase of the +land embraced in an area a half mile square, of which the post was the +south-east corner mark. This notice he fastened to the stump with a +few tacks, and sat down to rest from his labors. + +"How long do you suppose that will stay there, and who is there to read +it, if it does?" Hazel observed. + +"Search me. The moose and the deer and the timber wolves, I guess," +Bill grinned. "The chances are the paper won't last long, with winds +and rains. But it doesn't matter. It's simply a form prescribed by +the Land Act of British Columbia, and, so long as I go through the +legal motions, that lets me out. Matter of form, you know." + +"Then what else do you have to do?" + +"Nothing but furnish the money when the land department gets around to +accept my application," he said. "I can get an agent to attend to all +the details. Oh, I have to furnish a description of the land by +natural boundaries, to give them an idea of about where it's situated. +Well, let's take a look at our estate from another corner." + +This, roughly ascertained by sighting a line with the compass and +stepping off eight hundred and eighty yards, brought them up on a knoll +that commanded the small basin of which the clearing was practically in +the center. + +"Aha;" Bill exclaimed. "Look at our ranch, would you; our widespread +acres basking in the sun. A quarter section is quite a chunk. Do you +know I never thought much about it before, but there's a piece of the +finest land that lies outdoors. I wasn't looking for land when I +squatted there. It was a pretty place, and there was hay for our +horses in that meadow, and trout in the creek back of the cabin. So I +built the old shack largely on the conveniences and the natural beauty +of the spot. But let me tell you, if this country should get a +railroad and settle up, that quarter section might produce all the +income we'd need, just out of hay and potatoes. How'd you like to be a +farmer's wife, huh?" + +"Fine," she smiled. "Look at the view--it isn't gorgeous. It's--it's +simply peaceful and quiet and soothing. I hate to leave it." + +"Better be sorry to leave a place than glad to get away," he answered +lightly. "Come on, let's pike home and get things in order for the +long trail, woman o' mine. I'll teach you how to be a woodland +vagabond." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +EN ROUTE + +Long since Hazel had become aware that whatsoever her husband set about +doing he did swiftly and with inflexible purpose. There was no +malingering or doubtful hesitation. Once his mind was made up, he +acted, Thus, upon the third day from the land staking they bore away +eastward from the clearing, across a trackless area, traveling by the +sun and Bill's knowledge of the country. + +"Some day there'll be trails blazed through here by a paternal +government," he laughed over his shoulder, "for the benefit of the +public. But _we_ don't need 'em, thank goodness." + +The buckskin pony Hazel had bought for the trip in with Limping George +ambled sedately under a pack containing bedding, clothes, and a light +shelter tent. The black horse, Nigger, he of the cocked ear and the +rolling eye, carried in a pair of kyaks six weeks' supply of food. +Bill led the way, seconded by Hazel on easy-gaited Silk. Behind her +trailed the pack horses like dogs well broken to heel, patient under +their heavy burdens. Off in the east the sun was barely clear of the +towering Rockies, and the woods were still cool and shadowy, full of +aromatic odors from plant and tree. + +Hazel followed her man contentedly. They were together upon the big +adventure, just as she had seen it set forth in books, and she found it +good. For her there was no more diverging of trails, no more problems +looming fearsomely at the journey's end. To jog easily through woods +and over open meadows all day, and at night to lie with her head +pillowed on Bill's arm, peering up through interlocked branches at a +myriad of gleaming stars--that was sufficient to fill her days. To +live and love and be loved, with all that had ever seemed hateful and +sordid and mean thrust into a remote background. It was almost too +good to be true, she told herself. Yet it was indubitably true. And +she was grateful for the fact. Touches of the unavoidable bitterness +of life had taught her the worth of days that could be treasured in the +memory. + +Occasionally she would visualize the cabin drowsing lifeless in its +emerald setting, haunted by the rabbits that played timidly about in +the twilight, or perhaps a wandering deer peering his wide-eyed +curiosity from the timber's edge. The books and rugs and curtains were +stowed in boxes and bundles and hung by wires to the ridge log to keep +them from the busy bush-tailed rats. Everything was done up carefully +and put away for safekeeping, as became a house that is to be long +untenanted. + +The mother instinct to keep a nest snug and cozy gave her a tiny pang +over the abandoned home. The dust of many months would gather on the +empty chairs and shelves. Still it was only a passing absence. They +would come back, with treasure wrested from the strong box of the wild. +Surely Fortune could not forbear smiling on a mate like hers? + +There was no monotony in the passing days. Rivers barred their way. +These they forded or swam, or ferried a makeshift raft of logs, as +seemed most fit. Once their raft came to grief in the maw of a +snarling current, and they laid up two days to dry their saturated +belongings. Once their horses, impelled by some mysterious home +yearning, hit the back trail in a black night of downpour, and they +trudged half a day through wet grass and dripping scrub to overtake the +truants. Thunderstorms drove up, shattering the hush of the land with +ponderous detonations, assaulting them with fierce bursts of rain. +Haps and mishaps alike they accepted with an equable spirit and the +true philosophy of the trail--to take things as they come. When rain +deluged them, there was always shelter to be found and fire to warm +them. If the flies assailed too fiercely, a smudge brought easement of +that ill. And when the land lay smiling under a pleasant sun, they +rode light-hearted and care-free, singing or in silent content, as the +spirit moved. If they rode alone, they felt none of that loneliness +which is so integral a part of the still, unpeopled places. Each day +was something more than a mere toll of so many miles traversed. The +unexpected, for which both were eager-eyed, lurked on the shoulder of +each mountain, in the hollow of every cool cañon, or met them boldly in +the open, naked and unafraid. + +Bearing up to where the Nachaco debouches from Fraser Lake, with a +Hudson's Bay fur post and an Indian mission on its eastern fringe, they +came upon a blazed line in the scrub timber. Roaring Bill pulled up, +and squinted away down the narrow lane fresh with ax marks. + +"Well," said he, "I wonder what's coming off now? That looks like a +survey line of some sort. It isn't a trail--too wide. Let's follow it +a while. + +"I'll bet a nickel," he asserted next, "that's a railroad survey." +They had traversed two miles more or less, and the fact was patent that +the blazed line sought a fairly constant level across country. "A land +survey runs all same latitude and longitude. Huh!" + +Half an hour of easy jogging set the seal of truth on his assertion. +They came upon a man squinting through a brass instrument set on three +legs, directing, with alternate wavings of his outspread hands, certain +activities of other men ahead of him. + +"Well, I'll be--" he bit off the sentence, and stared a moment in frank +astonishment at Hazel. Then he took off his hat and bowed. "Good +morning," he greeted politely. + +"Sure," Bill grinned. "We have mornings like this around here all the +time. What all are you fellows doing in the wilderness, anyway? +Railroad?" + +"Cross-section work for the G. T. P.," the surveyor replied. + +"Huh," Bill grunted. "Is it a dead cinch, or is it something that may +possibly come to pass in the misty future?" + +"As near a cinch as anything ever is," the surveyor answered. +"Construction has begun--at both ends. I thought the few white folks +in this country kept tab on anything as important as a new railroad." + +"We've heard a lot, but none of 'em has transpired yet; not in my time, +anyway," Bill replied dryly. "However, the world keeps right on +moving. I've heard more or less talk of this, but I didn't know it had +got past the talking stage. What's their Pacific terminal?" + +"Prince Rupert--new town on a peninsula north of the mouth of the +Skeena," said the surveyor. "It's a rush job all the way through, I +believe. Three years to spike up the last rail. And that's going some +for a transcontinental road. Both the Dominion and B. C. governments +have guaranteed the company's bonds away up into millions." + +"Be a great thing for this country--say, where does it cross the +Rockies?--what's the general route?" Bill asked abruptly. + +"Goes over the range through Yellowhead Pass. From here it follows the +Nachaco to Fort George, then up the Fraser by Tete Juan Cache, through +the pass, then down the Athabasca till it switches over to strike +Edmonton." + +"Uh-huh," Bill nodded. "One of the modern labors of Hercules. Well, +we've got to peg. So long." + +"Our camp's about five miles ahead. Better stop in and noon," the +surveyor invited, "if it's on your road." + +"Thanks. Maybe we will," Bill returned. + +The surveyor lifted his hat, with a swift glance of admiration at +Hazel, and they passed with a mutual "so long." + +"What do you think of that, old girl?" Bill observed presently. "A +real, honest-to-God railroad going by within a hundred miles of our +shack. Three years. It'll be there before we know it. We'll have +neighbors to burn." + +"A hundred miles!" Hazel laughed. "Is that your idea of a neighborly +distance?" + +"What's a hundred miles?" he defended. "Two days' ride, that's all. +And the kind of people that come to settle in a country like this don't +stick in sight of the cars. They're like me--need lots of elbow room. +There'll be hardy souls looking for a location up where we are before +very long. You'll see." + +They passed other crews of men, surveyors with transits, chainmen, +stake drivers, ax gangs widening the path through the timber. Most of +them looked at Hazel in frank surprise, and stared long after she +passed by. And when an open bottom beside a noisy little creek showed +the scattered tents of the survey camp, Hazel said: + +"Let's not stop, Bill." + +He looked back over his shoulder with a comprehending smile. + +"Getting shy? Make you uncomfortable to have all these boys look at +you, little person?" he bantered. "All right, we won't stop. But all +these fellows probably haven't seen a white woman for months. You +can't blame them for admiring. You do look good to other men besides +me, you know." + +So they rode through the camp with but a nod to the aproned cook, who +thrust out his head, and a gray-haired man with glasses, who humped +over a drafting board under an awning. Their noon fire they built at a +spring five miles beyond. + +Thereafter they skirted three lakes in succession, Fraser, Burns, and +Decker, and climbed over a low divide to drop into the Bulkley +Valley--a pleasant, rolling country, where the timber was interspersed +with patches of open grassland and set with small lakes, wherein +schools of big trout lived their finny lives unharried by anglers--save +when some wandering Indian snared one with a primitive net. + +Far down this valley they came upon the first sign of settlement. +Hardy souls, far in advance of the coming railroad, had built here and +there a log cabin and were hard at it clearing and plowing and getting +the land ready for crops. Four or five such lone ranches they passed, +tarrying overnight at one where they found a broad-bosomed woman with a +brood of tow-headed children. Her husband was out after supplies--a +week's journey. She kept Hazel from her bed till after midnight, +talking. They had been there over winter, and Hazel Wagstaff was the +first white woman she had bespoken in seven months. There were other +women in the valley farther along; but fifty or sixty miles leaves +scant opportunity for visiting when there is so much work to be done +ere wild acres will feed hungry mouths. + +At length they fared into Hazleton, which is the hub of a vast area +over which men pursue gold and furs. Some hundred odd souls were +gathered there, where the stern-wheel steamers that ply the turgid +Skeena reach the head of navigation. A land-recording office and a +mining recorder Hazleton boasted as proof of its civic importance. The +mining recorder, who combined in himself many capacities besides his +governmental function, undertook to put through Bill's land deal. He +knew Bill Wagstaff. + +"Wise man," he nodded, over the description. "If some more uh these +boys that have blazed trails through this country would do the same +thing, they'd be better off. A chunk of land anywhere in this country +is a good bet now. We'll have rails here from the coast in a year. +Better freeze onto a couple uh lots here in Hazleton, while they're +low. Be plumb to the skies in ten years. Natural place for a city, +Bill. It's astonishin' how the settlers is comin'." + +There was ocular evidence of this last, for they had followed in a road +well rutted from loaded wagons. But Bill invested in no real estate, +notwithstanding the positive assurance that Hazleton was on the ragged +edge of a boom. + +"Maybe, maybe," he admitted. "But I've got other fish to fry. That +one piece up by Pine River will do me for a while." + +Here where folk talked only of gold and pelts and railroads and +settlement and the coming boom that would make them all rich, Bill +Wagstaff added two more ponies to his pack train. These he loaded down +with food, staples only, flour, sugar, beans, salt, tea and coffee, and +a sack of dried fruit. Also he bestowed upon Nigger a further burden +of six dozen steel traps. And in the cool of a midsummer morning, +before Hazleton had rubbed the sleep out of its collective eyes and +taken up the day's work of discussing its future greatness, Roaring +Bill and his wife draped the mosquito nets over their heads and turned +their faces north. + +They bore out upon a wagon road. For a brief distance only did this +endure, then dwindled to a path. A turn in this hid sight of the +clustered log houses and tents, and the two steamers that lay up +against the bank. The river itself was soon lost in the far stretches +of forest. Once more they rode alone in the wilderness. For the first +time Hazel felt a quick shrinking from the North, an awe of its huge, +silent spaces, which could so easily engulf thousands such as they and +still remain a land untamed. + +But this feeling passed, and she came again under the spell of the +trail, riding with eyes and ears alert, sitting at ease in the saddle, +and taking each new crook in the way with quickened interest. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE WINTERING PLACE + +On the second day they crossed the Skeena, a risky and tedious piece of +business, for the river ran deep and strong. And shortly after this +crossing they came to a line of wire strung on poles. Originally a +fair passageway had been cleared through low brush and dense timber +alike. A pathway of sorts still remained, though dim and little +trodden and littered with down trees of various sizes. Bill followed +this. + +"What is the wire? A rural telephone? Oh, I remember you told me +once--that Yukon telegraph," Hazel remarked. + +"Uh-huh. That's the famous Telegraph Trail," Bill answered. "Runs +from Ashcroft clear to Dawson City, on the Yukon; that is, the line +does. There's a lineman's house every twenty miles or so, and an +operator every forty miles. The best thing about it is that it +furnishes us with a sort of a road. And that's mighty lucky, for +there's some tough going ahead of us." + +So long as they held to the Telegraph Trail the way led through fairly +decent country. In open patches there was ample grazing for their +horses. Hills there were, to be sure; all the land rolled away in +immense forested billows, but the mountains stood off on the right and +left, frowning in the distance. A plague of flies harassed them +continually, Hazel's hands suffering most, even though she kept +religiously to thick buckskin gloves. The poisonous bites led to +scratching, which bred soreness. And as they gained a greater +elevation and the timbered bottoms gave way to rocky hills over which +she must perforce walk and lead her horse, the sweat of the exertion +stung and burned intolerably, like salt water on an open wound. + +Minor hardships, these; scarcely to be dignified by that name, more in +the nature of aggravated discomforts they were. But they irked, and, +like any accumulation of small things, piled up a disheartening total. +By imperceptible degrees the glamour of the trail, the lure of +gypsying, began to lessen. She found herself longing for the Pine +River cabin, for surcease from this never-ending journey. But she +would not have owned this to Roaring Bill; not for the world. It +savored of weakness, disloyalty. She felt ashamed. Still--it was no +longer a pleasure jaunt. The country they bore steadily up into grew +more and more forbidding. The rugged slopes bore no resemblance to the +kindly, peaceful land where the cabin stood. Swamps and reedy lakes +lurked in low places. The hills stood forth grim and craggy, gashed +with deep-cleft gorges, and rising to heights more grim and desolate at +the uttermost reach of her vision. And into the heart of this, toward +a far-distant area where she could faintly distinguish virgin snow on +peaks that pierced the sky, they traveled day after day. + +Shortly before reaching Station Six they crossed the Naas, foaming down +to the blue Pacific. And at Station Seven, Bill turned squarely off +the Telegraph Trail and struck east by north. It had been a break in +the monotony of each day's travel to come upon the lonely men in their +little log houses. When they turned away from the single wire that +linked them up with the outer world, it seemed to Hazel as if the +profound, disquieting stillness of the North became intensified. + +Presently the way grew rougher. If anything, Roaring Bill increased +his pace. He himself no longer rode. When the steepness of the hills +and cañons made the going hard the packs were redivided, and henceforth +Satin bore on his back a portion of the supplies. Bill led the way +tirelessly. Through flies, river crossings, camp labor, and all the +petty irritations of the trail he kept an unruffled spirit, a fine, +enduring patience that Hazel marveled at and admired. Many a time, +wakening at some slight stir, she would find him cooking breakfast. In +every way within his power he saved her. + +"I got to take good care of you, little person," he would say. "I'm +used to this sort of thing, and I'm tough as buckskin. But it sure +isn't proving any picnic for you. It's a lot worse in this way than I +thought it would be. And we've got to get in there before the snow +begins to fly, or it will play the dickens with us." + +Many a strange shift were they put to. Once Bill had to fell a great +spruce across a twenty-foot crevice. It took him two days to hew it +flat so that his horses could be led over. The depth was bottomless to +the eye, but from far below rose the cavernous growl of rushing water, +and Hazel held her breath as each animal stepped gingerly over the +narrow bridge. One misstep-- + +Once they climbed three weary days up a precipitous mountain range, +and, turned back in sight of the crest by an impassable cliff, were +forced to back track and swing in a fifty-mile detour. + +In an air line Roaring Bill's destination lay approximately two hundred +miles north--almost due north--of Hazleton. By the devious route they +were compelled to take the distance was doubled, more than doubled. +And their rate of progress now fell short of a ten-mile average. +September was upon them. The days dwindled in length, and the nights +grew to have a frosty nip. + +Early and late he pushed on. Two camp necessities were fortunately +abundant, grass and water. Even so, the stress of the trail told on +the horses. They lost flesh. The extreme steepness of succeeding +hills bred galls under the heavy packs. They grew leg weary, no longer +following each other with sprightly step and heads high. Hazel pitied +them, for she herself was trail weary beyond words. The vagabond +instinct had fallen asleep. The fine aura of romance no longer hovered +over the venture. + +Sometimes when dusk ended the day's journey and she swung her stiffened +limbs out of the saddle, she would cheerfully have foregone all the +gold in the North to be at her ease before the fireplace in their +distant cabin, with her man's head nesting in her lap, and no toll of +weary miles looming sternly on the morrow's horizon. It was all work, +trying work, the more trying because she sensed a latent uneasiness on +her husband's part, an uneasiness she could never induce him to embody +in words. Nevertheless, it existed, and she resented its existence--a +trouble she could not share. But she could not put her finger on the +cause, for Bill merely smiled a denial when she mentioned it. + +Nor did she fathom the cause until upon a certain day which fell upon +the end of a week's wearisome traverse of the hardest country yet +encountered. Up and up and still higher he bore into a range of +beetling crags, and always his gaze was fixed steadfastly and dubiously +on the serrated backbone toward which they ascended with infinite toil +and hourly risk, skirting sheer cliffs on narrow rock ledges, working +foot by foot over declivities where the horses dug their hoofs into a +precarious toe hold, and where a slip meant broken bones on the ragged +stones below. But win to the uppermost height they did, where an early +snowfall lay two inches deep in a thin forest of jack pine. + +They broke out of a cañon up which they had struggled all day onto a +level plot where the pine stood in somber ranks. A spring creek split +the flat in two. Beside this tiny stream Bill unlashed his packs. It +still lacked two hours of dark. But he made no comment, and Hazel +forbore to trouble him with questions. Once the packs were off and the +horses at liberty. Bill caught up his rifle. + +"Come on, Hazel," he said. "Let's take a little hike." + +The flat was small, and once clear of it the pines thinned out on a +steep, rocky slope so that westward they could overlook a vast network +of cañons and mountain spurs. But ahead of them the mountain rose to +an upstanding backbone of jumbled granite, and on this backbone Bill +Wagstaff bent an anxious eye. Presently they sat down on a bowlder to +take a breathing spell after a stiff stretch of climbing. Hazel +slipped her hand in his and whispered: + +"What is it, Billy-boy?" + +"I'm afraid we can't get over here with the horses," he answered +slowly. "And if we can't find a pass of some kind--well, come on! It +isn't more than a quarter of a mile to the top." + +He struck out again, clambering over great bowlders, clawing his way +along rocky shelves, with a hand outstretched to help her now and then. +Her perceptions quickened by the hint he had given, Hazel viewed the +long ridge for a possible crossing, and she was forced to the reluctant +conclusion that no hoofed beast save mountain sheep or goat could cross +that divide. Certainly not by the route they were taking. And north +and south as far as she could see the backbone ran like a solid wall. + +It was a scant quarter mile to the top, beyond which no farther +mountain crests showed--only clear, blue sky. But it was a stretch +that taxed her endurance to the limit for the next hour. Just short of +the top Bill halted, and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. And as he +stood his gaze suddenly became fixed, a concentrated stare at a point +northward. He raised his glasses. + +"By thunder!" he exclaimed. "I believe--it's me for the top." + +He went up the few remaining yards with a haste that left Hazel panting +behind. Above her he stood balanced on a bowlder, cut sharp against +the sky, and she reached him just as he lowered the field glasses with +a long sigh of relief. His eyes shone with exultation. + +"Come on up on the perch," he invited, and reached forth a long, +muscular arm, drawing her up close betide him on the rock. + +"Behold the Promised Land," he breathed, "and the gateway thereof, +lying a couple of miles to the north." + +They were, it seemed to Hazel, roosting precariously on the very summit +of the world. On both sides the mountain pitched away sharply in +rugged folds. Distance smoothed out the harsh declivities, blurred +over the tremendous cañons. Looking eastward, she saw an ample basin, +which gave promise of level ground on its floor. True, it was ringed +about with sky-scraping peaks, save where a small valley opened to the +south. Behind them, between them and the far Pacific rolled a sea of +mountains, snow-capped, glacier-torn, gigantic. + +"Down there," Roaring Bill waved his hand, "there's a little meadow, +and turf to walk on. Lord, I'll be glad to get out of these rocks! +You'll never catch me coming in this way again. It's sure tough going. +And I've been scared to death for a week, thinking we couldn't get +through." + +"But we can?" + +"Yes, easy," he assured. "Take the glasses and look. That flat we +left our outfit in runs pretty well to the top, about two miles along. +Then there's a notch in the ridge that you can't get with the naked +eye, and a wider cañon running down into the basin. It's the only +decent break in the divide for fifty miles so far as I can see. This +backbone runs to high mountains both north and south of us--like the +great wall of China. We're lucky to hit this pass." + +"Suppose we couldn't get over here?" Hazel asked. "What if there +hadn't been a pass?" + +"That was beginning to keep me awake nights," he confessed. "I've been +studying this rock wall for a week. It doesn't look good from the east +side, but it's worse on the west, and I couldn't seem to locate the gap +I spotted from the basin one time. And if we couldn't get through, it +meant a hundred miles or more back south around that white peak you +see. Over a worse country than we've come through--and no cinch on +getting over at that. Do you realize that it's getting late in the +year? Winter may come--bing!--inside of ten days. And me caught in a +rock pile, with no cabin to shelter my best girl, and no hay up to feed +my horses! You bet it bothered me." + +She hugged him sympathetically, and Bill smiled down at her. + +"But it's plain sailing now," he continued. "I know that basin and all +the country beyond it. It's a pretty decent camping place, and there's +a fairly easy way out." + +He bestowed a reassuring kiss upon her. They sat on the bowlder for a +few minutes, then scrambled downhill to the jack-pine flat, and built +their evening fire. And for the first time in many days Roaring Bill +whistled and lightly burst into snatches of song in the deep, bellowing +voice that had given him his name back in the Cariboo country. His +humor was infectious. Hazel felt the gods of high adventure smiling +broadly upon them once more. + +Before daybreak they were up and packed. In the dim light of dawn Bill +picked his way up through the jack-pine flat. With easy traveling they +made such time as enabled them to cross through the narrow gash--cut in +the divide by some glacial offshoot when the Klappan Range was +young--before the sun, a ball of molten fire, heaved up from behind the +far mountain chain. + +At noon, two days later, they stepped out of a heavy stand of spruce +into a sun-warmed meadow, where ripe, yellow grasses waved to their +horses' knees. Hazel came afoot, a fresh-killed deer lashed across +Silk's back. + +Bill hesitated, as if taking his bearings, then led to where a rocky +spur of a hill jutted into the meadow's edge. A spring bubbled out of +a pebbly basin, and he poked about in the grass beside it with his +foot, presently stooping to pick up something which proved to be a +short bit of charred stick. + +"The remains of my last camp fire," he smiled reminiscently. "Packs +off, old pal. We're through with the trail for a while." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +FOUR WALLS AND A ROOF + +To such as view with a kindly eye the hushed areas of virgin forest and +the bold cliffs and peaks of mountain ranges, it is a joy to tread +unknown trails, camping as the spirit moves, journeying leisurely and +in decent comfort from charming spot to spots more charming. With no +spur of need to drive, such inconsequential wandering gives to each day +and incident an added zest. Nature appears to have on her best bib and +tucker for the occasion. The alluring finger of the unknown beckons +alluringly onward, so that if one should betimes strain to physical +exhaustion in pursuit, that is a matter of no moment whatever. + +But it is a different thing to face the wilderness for a purpose, to +journey in haste toward a set point, with a penalty swift and sure for +failure to reach that point in due season. Especially is this so in +the high latitudes. Natural barriers uprear before the traveler, +barriers which he must scale with sweat and straining muscles. He must +progress by devious ways, seeking always the line of least resistance. +The season of summer is brief, a riot of flowers and vegetation. A +certain number of weeks the land smiles and flaunts gay flowers in the +shadow of the ancient glaciers. Then the frost and snow come back to +their own, and the long nights shut down like a pall. + +Brought to it by a kindlier road, Hazel would have found that nook in +the Klappan Range a pleasant enough place. She could not deny its +beauty. It snuggled in the heart of a wild tangle of hills all +turreted and battlemented with ledge and pinnacle of rock, from which +ran huge escarpments clothed with spruce and pine, scarred and gashed +on every hand with slides and deep-worn watercourses, down which +tumultuous streams rioted their foamy way. And nestled amid this, like +a precious stone in its massive setting, a few hundred acres of level, +grassy turf dotted with trees. Southward opened a narrow valley, as if +pointing the road to a less rigorous land. No, she could not deny its +beauty. But she was far too trail weary to appreciate the grandeur of +the Klappan Range. She desired nothing so much as rest and comfort, +and the solemn mountains were neither restful nor soothing. They stood +too grim and aloof in a lonely land. + +There was so much to be done, work of the hands; a cabin to build, and +a stable; hay to be cut and stacked so that their horses might live +through the long winter--which already heralded his approach with +sharp, stinging frosts at night, and flurries of snow along the higher +ridges. + +Bill staked the tent beside the spring, fashioned a rude fork out of a +pronged willow, and fitted a handle to the scythe he had brought for +the purpose. From dawn to dark he swung the keen blade in the heavy +grass which carpeted the bottom. Behind him Hazel piled it in little +mounds with the fork. She insisted on this, though it blistered her +hands and brought furious pains to her back. If her man must strain +every nerve she would lighten the burden with what strength she had. +And with two pair of hands to the task, the piles of hay gathered thick +on the meadow. When Bill judged that the supply reached twenty tons, +he built a rude sled with a rack on it, and hauled in the hay with a +saddle horse. + +"Amen!" said Bill, when he had emptied the rack for the last time, and +the hay rose in a neat stack. "That's another load off my mind. I can +build a cabin and a stable in six feet of snow if I have to, but there +would have been a slim chance of haying once a storm hit us. And the +caballos need a grubstake for the winter worse than we do, because they +can't eat meat. _We_ wouldn't go hungry--there's moose enough to feed +an army ranging in that low ground to the south." + +"There's everything that one needs, almost, in the wilderness, isn't +there?" Hazel observed reflectively. "But still the law of life is +awfully harsh, don't you think, Bill? Isolation is a terrible thing +when it is so absolutely complete. Suppose something went wrong? +There's no help, and no mercy--absolutely none. You could die here by +inches and the woods and mountains would look calmly on, just as they +have looked on everything for thousands of years. It's like prison +regulations. You _must_ do this, and you _must_ do that, and there's +no excuse for mistakes. Nature, when you get close to her, is so +inexorable." + +Bill eyed her a second. Then he put his arms around her, and patted +her hair tenderly. + +"Is it getting on your nerves already, little person?" he asked. +"Nothing's going to go wrong. I've been in wild country too often to +make mistakes or get careless. And those are the two crimes for which +the North--or any wilderness--inflicts rather serious penalties. Life +isn't a bit harsher here than in the human ant heaps. Only everything +is more direct; cause and effect are linked up close. There are no +complexities. It's all done in the open, and if you don't play the +game according to the few simple rules you go down and out. That's all +there is to it. There's no doctor in the next block, nor a grocer to +take your order over the phone, and you can't run out to a café and +take dinner with a friend. But neither is the air swarming with +disease germs, nor are there malicious gossips to blast you with their +tongues, nor rent and taxes to pay every time you turn around. Nor am +I at the mercy of a job. And what does the old, settled country do to +you when you have neither money nor job? It treats you worse than the +worst the North can do; for, lacking the price, it denies you access to +the abundance that mocks you in every shop window, and bars you out of +the houses that line the streets. Here, everything needful is yours +for the taking. If one is ignorant, or unable to convert wood and +water and game to his own uses, he must learn how, or pay the penalty +of incompetence. No, little person, I don't think the law of life is +nearly so harsh here as it is where the mob struggles for its daily +bread. It's more open and aboveboard here; more up to the individual. +But it's lonely sometimes. I guess that's what ails you." + +"Oh, pouf!" she denied. "I'm not lonely, so long as I've got you. But +sometimes I think of something happening to you--sickness and +accidents, and all that. One can't help thinking what might happen." + +"Forget it!" Bill exhorted. "That's the worst of living in this big, +still country--it makes one introspective, and so confoundedly +conscious of what puny atoms we human beings are, after all. But +there's less chance of sickness here than any place. Anyway, we've got +to take a chance on things now and then, in the course of living our +lives according to our lights. We're playing for a stake--and things +that are worth having are never handed to us on a silver salver. +Besides, I never had worse than a stomachache in my life and you're a +pretty healthy specimen yourself. Wait till I get that cabin built, +with a big fireplace at one end. We'll be more comfortable, and things +will look a little rosier. This thing of everlasting hurry and hard +work gets on anybody's nerves." + +The best of the afternoon was still unspent when the haystacking +terminated, and Bill declared a holiday. He rigged a line on a limber +willow wand, and with a fragment of venison for bait sought the pools +of the stream which flowed out the south opening. He prophesied that +in certain black eddies plump trout would be lurking, and he made his +prophecy good at the first pool. Hazel elected herself gun-bearer to +the expedition, but before long Bill took up that office while she +snared trout after trout from the stream--having become something of an +angler herself under Bill's schooling. And when they were frying the +fish that evening he suddenly observed: + +"Say, they were game little fellows, these, weren't they? Wasn't that +better sport than taking a street car out to the park and feeding the +swans?" + +"What an idea!" she laughed. "Who wants to feed swans in a park?" + +But when the fire had sunk to dull embers, and the stars were peeping +shyly in the open flap of their tent, she whispered in his ear: + +"You mustn't think I'm complaining or lonesome or anything, Billy-boy, +when I make remarks like I did to-day. I love you a heap, and I'd be +happy anywhere with you. And I'm really and truly at home in the +wilderness. Only--only sometimes I have a funny feeling; as if I were +afraid. It seems silly, but this is all so different from our little +cabin. I look up at these big mountains, and they seem to be +scowling--as if we were trespassers or something." + +"I know." Bill drew her close to him. "But that's just mood. I've +felt that same sensation up here--a foolish, indefinable foreboding. +All the out-of-the-way places of the earth produce that effect, if one +is at all imaginative. It's the bigness of everything, and the eternal +stillness. I've caught myself listening--when I knew there was nothing +to hear. Makes a fellow feel like a small boy left by himself in some +big, gloomy building--awesome. Sure, I know it. It would be hard on +the nerves to live here always. But we're only after a stake--then all +the pleasant places of the earth are open to us; with that little, old +log house up by Pine River for a refuge whenever we get tired of the +world at large. Cuddle up and go to sleep. You're a dead-game sport, +or you'd have hollered long ago." + +And, next day, to Hazel, sitting by watching him swing the heavy, +double-bitted ax on the foundation logs of their winter home, it all +seemed foolish, that heaviness of heart which sometimes assailed her. +She was perfectly happy. In each of them the good, red blood of youth +ran full and strong, offering ample security against illness. They had +plenty of food. In a few brief months Bill would wrest a sack of gold +from the treasure house of the North, and they would journey home by +easy stages. Why should she brood? It was sheer folly--a mere ebb of +spirit. + +Fortune favored them to the extent of letting the October storms remain +in abeyance until Bill finished his cabin, with a cavernous fireplace +of rough stone at one end. He split planks for a door out of raw +timber, and graced his house with two windows--one of four small panes +of glass carefully packed in their bedding all the way from Hazleton, +the other a two-foot square of deerskin scraped parchment thin; opaque +to the vision, it still permitted light to enter. The floor was plain +earth, a condition Bill promised to remedy with hides of moose, once +his buildings were completed. Rudely finished, and lacking much that +would have made for comfort, still it served its purpose, and Hazel +made shift contentedly. + +Followed then the erection of a stable to shelter the horses. Midway +of its construction a cloud bank blew out of the northeast, and a foot +of snow fell. Then it cleared to brilliant days of frost. Bill +finished his stable. At night he tied the horses therein. By day they +were turned loose to rustle their fodder from under the crisp snow. It +was necessary to husband the stock of hay, for spring might be late. + +After that they went hunting. The third day Bill shot two moose in an +open glade ten miles afield. It took them two more days to haul in the +frozen meat on a sled. + +"Looks like one side of a butcher shop," Bill remarked, viewing the +dressed meat where it hung on a pole scaffolding beyond reach of the +wolves. + +"It certainly does," Hazel replied. "We'll never eat all that." + +"Probably not," he smiled. "But there's nothing like having plenty. +The moose might emigrate, you know. I think I'll add a deer to that +lot for variety--if I can find one." + +He managed this in the next few days, and also laid in a stock of +frozen trout by the simple expedient of locating a large pool, and +netting the speckled denizens thereof through a hole in the ice. + +So their larder was amply supplied. And, as the cold rigidly tightened +its grip, and succeeding snows deepened the white blanket till +snowshoes became imperative, Bill began to string out a line of traps. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +BOREAS CHANTS HIS LAY + +December winged by, the days succeeding each other like glittering +panels on a black ground of long, drear nights. Christmas came. They +mustered up something of the holiday spirit, dining gayly off a roast +of caribou. For the occasion Hazel had saved the last half dozen +potatoes. With the material at her command she evolved a Christmas +pudding, serving it with brandy sauce. And after satisfying appetites +bred of a morning tilt with Jack Frost along Bill's trap line, they +spent a pleasant hour picturing their next Christmas. There would be +holly and bright lights and music--the festival spirit freed of all +restraint. + +The new year was born in a wild smother of flying snow, which died at +dawn to let a pale, heatless sun peer tentatively over the southern +mountains, his slanting beams setting everything aglitter. Frost +particles vibrated in the air, coruscating diamond dust. Underfoot, on +the path beaten betwixt house and stable, the snow crunched and +complained as they walked, and in the open where the mad winds had +piled it in hard, white windrows. But in the thick woods it lay as it +had fallen, full five foot deep, a downy wrapping for the slumbering +earth, over which Bill Wagstaff flitted on his snowshoes as silently as +a ghost--a fur-clad ghost, however, who bore a rifle on his shoulder, +and whose breath exhaled in white, steamy puffs. + +Gold or no gold, the wild land was giving up its treasure to them. +Already the catch of furs totaled ninety marten, a few mink, a dozen +wolves--and two pelts of that rara avis, the silver fox. Around twelve +hundred dollars, Bill estimated, with four months yet to trap. And the +labor of tending the trap lines, of skinning and stretching the catch, +served to keep them both occupied--Hazel as much as he, for she went +out with him on all but the hardest trips. So that their isolation in +the hushed, white world where the frost ruled with an iron hand had not +so far become oppressive. They were too busy to develop that dour +affliction of the spirit which loneliness and idleness breed through +the long winters of the North. + +A day or two after the first of the year Roaring Bill set out to go +over one of the uttermost trap lines. Five minutes after closing the +door he was back. + +"Easy with that fire, little person," he cautioned. "She's blowing out +of the northwest again. The sparks are sailing pretty high. Keep your +eye on it, Hazel." + +"All right, Billum," she replied. "I'll be careful." + +Not more than fifty yards separated the house and stable. At the +stable end stood the stack of hay, a low hummock above the surrounding +drift. Except for the place where Bill daily removed the supply for +his horses there was not much foothold for a spark, since a thin coat +of snow overlaid the greater part of the top. But there was that +chance of catastrophe. The chimney of their fireplace yawned wide to +the sky, vomiting sparks and ash like a miniature volcano when the fire +was roughly stirred, or an extra heavy supply of dry wood laid on. +When the wind whistled out of the northwest the line of flight was fair +over the stack. It behooved them to watch wind and fire. By keeping a +bed of coals and laying on a stick or two at a time a gale might roar +across the chimney-top without sucking forth a spark large enough to +ignite the hay. Hence Bill's warning. He had spoken of it before. + +Hazel washed up her breakfast dishes, and set the cabin in order +according to her housewifely instincts. Then she curled up in the +chair which Bill had painstakingly constructed for her especial comfort +with only ax and knife for tools. She was working up a pair of +moccasins after an Indian pattern, and she grew wholly absorbed in the +task, drawing stitch after stitch of sinew strongly and neatly into +place. The hours flicked past in unseemly haste, so completely was she +engrossed. When at length the soreness of her fingers warned her that +she had been at work a long time, she looked at her watch. + +"Goodness me! Bill's due home any time, and I haven't a thing ready to +eat," she exclaimed. "And here's my fire nearly out." + +She piled on wood, and stirring the coals under it, fanned them with +her husband's old felt hat, forgetful of sparks or aught but that she +should be cooking against his hungry arrival. Outside, the wind blew +lustily, driving the loose snow across the open in long, wavering +ribbons. But she had forgotten that it was in the dangerous quarter, +and she did not recall that important fact even when she sat down again +to watch her moose steaks broil on the glowing coals raked apart from +the leaping blaze. The flames licked into the throat of the chimney +with the purr of a giant cat. + +No sixth sense warned her of impending calamity. It burst upon her +with startling abruptness only when she opened the door to throw out +some scraps of discarded meat, for the blaze of the burning stack shot +thirty feet in the air, and the smoke rolled across the meadow in a +sooty manner. + +Bareheaded, in a thin pair of moccasins, without coat or mittens to +fend her from the lance-toothed frost. Hazel ran to the stable. She +could get the horses out, perhaps, before the log walls became their +crematory. But Bill, coming in from his traps, reached the stable +first, and there was nothing for her to do but stand and watch with a +sickening self-reproach. He untied and clubbed the reluctant horses +outside. Already the stable end against the hay was shooting up +tongues of flame. As the blaze lapped swiftly over the roof and ate +into the walls, the horses struggled through the deep drift, lunging +desperately to gain a few yards, then turned to stand with ears pricked +up at the strange sight, shivering in the bitter northwest wind that +assailed their bare, unprotected bodies. + +Bill himself drew back from the fire, and stared at it fixedly. He +kept silence until Hazel timidly put her hand on his arm. + +"You watched that fire all right, didn't you?" he said then. + +"Bill, Bill!" she cried. But he merely shrugged his shoulders, and +kept his gaze fixed on the burning stable. + +To Hazel, shivering with the cold, even close as she was to the intense +heat, it seemed an incredibly short time till a glowing mound below the +snow level was all that remained; a black-edged pit that belched smoke +and sparks. That and five horses humped tail to the driving wind, +stolidly enduring. She shuddered with something besides the cold. And +then Bill spoke absently, his eyes still on the smoldering heap. + +"Five feet of caked snow on top of every blade of grass," she heard him +mutter. "They can't browse on trees, like deer. Aw, hell!" + +He had stuck his rifle butt first in the snow. He walked over to it; +Hazel followed. When he stood, with the rifle slung in the crook of +his arm, she tried again to break through this silent aloofness which +cut her more deeply than any harshness of speech could have done. + +"Bill, I'm so sorry!" she pleaded. "It's terrible, I know. What can +we do?" + +"Do? Huh!" he snorted. "If I ever have to die before my time, I hope +it will be with a full belly and my head in the air--and mercifully +swift." + +Even then she had no clear idea of his intention. She looked up at him +pleadingly, but he was staring at the horses, his teeth biting +nervously at his under lip. Suddenly he blinked, and she saw his eyes +moisten. In the same instant he threw up the rifle. At the thin, +vicious crack of it, Silk collapsed. + +She understood then. With her hand pressed hard over her mouth to keep +back the hysterical scream that threatened, she fled to the house. +Behind her the rifle spat forth its staccato message of death. For a +few seconds the mountains flung whiplike echoes back and forth in a +volley. Then the sibilant voice of the wind alone broke the stillness. + +Numbed with the cold, terrified at the elemental ruthlessness of it +all, she threw herself on the bed, denied even the relief of tears. +Dry-eyed and heavy-hearted, she waited her husband's coming, and +dreading it--for the first time she had seen her Bill look on her with +cold, critical anger. For an interminable time she lay listening for +the click of the latch, every nerve strung tight. + +He came at last, and the thump of his rifle as he stood it against the +wall had no more than sounded before he was bending over her. He sat +down on the edge of the bed, and putting his arm across her shoulders, +turned her gently so that she faced him. + +"Never mind, little person," he whispered. "It's done and over. I'm +sorry I slashed at you the way I did. That's a fool man's way--if he's +hurt and sore he always has to jump on somebody else." + +Then by some queer complexity of her woman's nature the tears forced +their way. She did not want to cry--only the weak and mushy-minded +wept. She had always fought back tears unless she was shaken to the +roots of her soul. But it was almost a relief to cry with Bill's arm +holding her close. And it was brief. She sat up beside him presently. +He held her hand tucked in between his own two palms, but he looked +wistfully at the window, as if he were seeing what lay beyond. + +"Poor, dumb devils!" he murmured. "I feel like a murderer. But it was +pure mercy to them. They won't suffer the agony of frost, nor the slow +pain of starvation. That's what it amounted to--they'd starve if they +didn't freeze first. I've known men I would rather have shot. I +bucked many a hard old trail with Silk and Satin. Poor, dumb devils!" + +"D-don't, Bill!" she cried forlornly. "I know it's my fault. I let +the fire almost go out, and then built it up big without thinking. And +I know being sorry doesn't make any difference. But please--I don't +want to be miserable over it. I'll never be careless again." + +"All right; I won't talk about it, hon," he said. "I don't think you +will ever be careless about such things again. The North won't let us +get away with it. The wilderness is bigger than we are, and it's +merciless if we make mistakes." + +"I see that." She shuddered involuntarily. "It's a grim country. It +frightens me." + +"Don't let it," he said tenderly. "So long as we have our health and +strength we can win out, and be stronger for the experience. Winter's +a tough proposition up here, but you want to fight shy of morbid +brooding over things that can't be helped. This ever-lasting frost and +snow will be gone by and by. It'll be spring. And everything looks +different when there's green grass and flowers, and the sun is warm. +Buck up, old girl--Bill's still on the job." + +"How can you prospect in the spring without horses to pack the outfit?" +she asked, after a little. "How can we get out of here with all the +stuff we'll have?" + +"We'll manage it," he assured lightly. "We'll get out with our furs +and gold, all right, and we won't go hungry on the way, even if we have +no pack train. Leave it to me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +JACK FROST WITHDRAWS + +All through the month of January each evening, as dusk folded its +somber mantle about the meadow, the wolves gathered to feast on the +dead horses, till Hazel's nerves were strained to the snapping point. +Continually she was reminded of that vivid episode, of which she had +been the unwitting cause. Sometimes she would open the door, and from +out the dark would arise the sound of wolfish quarrels over the feast, +disembodied snappings and snarlings. Or when the low-swimming moon +shed a misty glimmer on the open she would peer through a thawed place +on the window-pane, and see gray shapes circling about the half-picked +skeletons. Sometimes, when Bill was gone, and all about the cabin was +utterly still, one, bolder or hungrier than his fellows, would trot +across the meadow, drawn by the scent of the meat. Two or three of +these Hazel shot with her own rifle. + +But when February marked another span on the calendar the wolves came +no more. The bones were clean. + +There was no impending misfortune or danger that she could point to or +forecast with certitude. Nevertheless, struggle against it as she +might, knowing it for pure psychological phenomena arising out of her +harsh environment. Hazel suffered continual vague forebodings. The +bald, white peaks seemed to surround her like a prison from which there +could be no release. From day to day she was harassed by dismal +thoughts. She would wake in the night clutching at her husband. Such +days as he went out alone she passed in restless anxiety. Something +would happen. What it would be she did not know, but to her it seemed +that the bleak stage was set for untoward drama, and they two the +puppets that must play. + +She strove against this impression with cold logic; but reason availed +nothing against the feeling that the North had but to stretch forth its +mighty hand and crush them utterly. But all of this she concealed from +Bill. She was ashamed of her fears, the groundless uneasiness. Yet it +was a constant factor in her daily life, and it sapped her vitality as +surely and steadily as lack of bodily nourishment could have done. + +Had there been in her make-up any inherent weakness of mentality, Hazel +might perhaps have brooded herself into neurasthenia. Few save those +who have actually experienced complete isolation for extended periods +can realize the queer, warped outlook such an existence imposes on the +human mind, if that mind is a trifle more than normally sensitive to +impressions, and a nature essentially social both by inclination and +habit. In the first months of their marriage she had assured herself +and him repeatedly that she could be perfectly happy and contented any +place on earth with Bill Wagstaff. + +Emotion has blinded wiser folk, and perhaps that is merely a little +device of nature's, for if one could look into the future with too +great a clarity of vision there would be fewer matings. In the main +her declaration still held true. She loved her husband with the same +intensity; possibly even more, for she had found in him none of the +flaws which every woman dreads that time and association may bring to +light in her chosen mate. + +When Bill drew her up close in his arms, the intangible menace of the +wilderness and all the dreary monotony of the days faded into the +background. But they, no more than others who have tried and failed +for lack of understanding, could not live their lives with their heads +in an emotional cloud. For every action there must be a corresponding +reaction. They who have the capacity to reach the heights must +likewise, upon occasion, plumb the depths. Life, she began to realize, +resolved itself into an unending succession of little, trivial things, +with here and there some great event looming out above all the rest for +its bestowal of happiness or pain. + +Bill knew. He often talked about such things. She was beginning to +understand that he had a far more comprehensive grasp of the +fundamentals of existence that she had. He had explained to her that +the individual unit was nothing outside of his group affiliations, and +she applied that to herself in a practical way in an endeavor to +analyze herself. She was a group product, and only under group +conditions could her life flow along nonirritant lines. Such being the +case, it followed that if Bill persisted in living out of the world +they would eventually drift apart, in spirit if not in actuality. And +that was an absurd summing-up. + +She rejected the conclusion decisively. For was not their present +situation the net result of a concrete endeavor to strike a balance +between the best of what both the wilderness and the humming cities had +to offer them? It seemed treason to Bill to long for other voices and +other faces. Yet she could not help the feeling. She wondered if he, +too, did not sometimes long for company besides her own. And the +thought stirred up a perverse jealousy. They two, perfectly mated in +all things, should be able to make their own little world complete--but +they could not, she knew. Life was altogether too complex an affair to +be solved in so primitive a fashion. She felt that continued living +under such conditions would drive her mad; that if she stayed long +enough under the somber shadow of the Klappan Range she would hate the +North and all it contained. + +That would have been both unjust and absurd, so she set herself +resolutely to overcome that feeling of oppression. She was too +well-balanced to drift unwittingly along this perilous road of thought. +She schooled herself to endure and to fight off introspection. She had +absorbed enough of her husband's sturdy philosophy of life to try and +make the best of a bad job. After all, she frequently assured herself, +the badness of the job was mostly a state of mind. And she had a +growing conviction that Bill sensed the struggle, and that it hurt him. +For that reason, if for no other, she did her best to make light of the +grim environment, and to wait patiently for spring. + +February and March stormed a path furiously across the calendar. +Higher and higher the drifts piled about the cabin, till at length it +was banked to the eaves with snow save where Bill shoveled it away to +let light to the windows. Day after day they kept indoors, stoking up +the fire, listening to the triumphant whoop of the winds. + +"Snow, snow!" Hazel burst out one day. "Frost that cuts you like a +knife. I wonder if there's ever going to be an end to it? I wish we +were home again--or some place." + +"So do I, little person," Bill said gently. "But spring's almost at +the door. Hang on a little longer. We've made a fair stake, anyway, +if we don't wash an ounce of gold." + +Hazel let her gaze wander over the pelts hanging thick from ridge log +and wall. Bill had fared well at his trapping. Over two thousand +dollars he estimated the value of his catch. + +"How are we going to get it all out?" She voiced a troublesome thought. + +"Shoulder pack to the Skeena," he answered laconically. "Build a +dugout there, and float downstream. Portage the rapids as they come." + +"Oh, Bill!" she came and leaned her head against him contritely. "Our +poor ponies! And it was all my carelessness." + +"Never mind, hon," he comforted. "They blinked out without suffering. +And we'll make it like a charm. Be game--it'll soon be spring." + +As if in verification of his words, with the last breath of that +howling storm came a sudden softening of the atmosphere. The sharp +teeth of the frost became swiftly blunted, and the sun, swinging daily +in a wider arc, brought the battery of his rays into effective play on +the mountainsides. The drifts lessened, shrunk, became moisture +sodden. For ten days or more the gradual thaw increased. Then a +lusty-lunged chinook wind came booming up along the Klappan Range, and +stripped it to a bare, steaming heap. Overhead whistled the first +flight of the wild goose, bound for the nesting grounds. Night and day +the roar of a dozen cataracts droned on all sides of the basin, as the +melting snow poured down in the annual spring flood. + +By April the twentieth the abdication of Jack Frost was complete. A +kindlier despot ruled the land, and Bill Wagstaff began to talk of gold. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE STRIKE + + ". . . that precious yellow metal sought by men + In regions desolate. + Pursued in patient hope or furious toil; + Breeder of discord, wars, and murderous hate; + The victor's spoil." + + +So Hazel quoted, leaning over her husband's shoulder. In the bottom of +his pan, shining among a film of black sand, lay half a dozen bright +specks, varying from pin-point size to the bigness of a grain of wheat. + +"That's the stuff," Bill murmured. "Only it seems rather far-fetched +for your poet to blame inanimate matter for the cussedness of humanity +in general. I suppose, though, he thought he was striking a highly +dramatic note. Anyway, it looks as if we'd struck it pretty fair. +It's time, too--the June rise will hit us like a whirlwind one of these +days." + +"About what is the value of those little pieces?" Hazel asked. + +"Oh, fifty or sixty cents," he answered. "Not much by itself. But it +seems to be uniform over the bar--and I can wash a good many pans in a +day's work." + +"I should think so," she remarked. "It didn't take you ten minutes to +do that one." + +"Whitey Lewis and I took out over two hundred dollars a day on that +other creek last spring--no, a year last spring, it was," he observed +reminiscently. "This isn't as good, but it's not to be sneezed at, +either. I think I'll make me a rocker. I've sampled this bend quite a +lot, and I don't think I can do any better than fly at this while the +water stays low." + +"I can help, can't I?" she said eagerly. + +"Sure," he smiled. "You help a lot, little person, just sitting around +keeping me company." + +"But I want to work," she declared. "I've sat around now till I'm +getting the fidgets." + +"All right; I'll give you a job," he returned good-naturedly. +"Meantime, let's eat that lunch you packed up here." + +In a branch of the creek which flowed down through the basin. Bill had +found plentiful colors as soon as the first big run-off of water had +fallen. He had followed upstream painstakingly, panning colors always, +and now and then a few grains of coarse gold to encourage him in the +quest. The loss of their horses precluded ranging far afield to that +other glacial stream which he had worked with Whitey Lewis when he was +a free lance in the North. He was close to his base of supplies, and +he had made wages--with always the prospector's lure of a rich strike +on the next bar. + +And now, with May well advanced, he had found definite indications of +good pay dirt. The creek swung in a hairpin curve, and in the neck +between the two sides of the loop the gold was sifted through wash +gravel and black sand, piled there by God only knew how many centuries +of glacial drift and flood. But it was there. He had taken panfuls at +random over the bar, and uniformly it gave up coarse gold. With a +rocker he stood a fair chance of big money before the June rise. + +"In the morning," said he, when lunch was over, "I'll bring along the +ax and some nails and a shovel, and get busy." + +That night they trudged down to the cabin in high spirits. Bill had +washed out enough during the afternoon to make a respectable showing on +Hazel's outspread handkerchief. And Hazel was in a gleeful mood over +the fact that she had unearthed a big nugget by herself. Beginner's +luck, Bill said teasingly, but that did not diminish her elation. The +old, adventurous glamour, which the long winter and moods of depression +had worn threadbare, began to cast its pleasant spell over her again. +The fascination of the gold hunt gripped her. Not for the stuff +itself, but for what it would get. She wondered if the men who dared +the impassive solitudes of the North for weary, lonesome years saw in +every morsel of the gold they found a picture of what that gold would +buy them in kindlier lands. And some never found any, never won the +stake that would justify the gamble. It was a gamble, in a sense--a +pure game of chance; but a game that took strength, and nerve, a sturdy +soul, to play. + +Still, the gold was there, locked up in divers storing places in the +lap of the earth, awaiting those virile enough to find and take. And +out beyond, in the crowded places of the earth, were innumerable +gateways to comfort and pleasure which could be opened with gold. It +remained only to balance the one against the other. Just as she had +often planned according to her opportunities when she was a wage slave +in the office of Bush and Company, so now did she plan for the future +on a broader scale, now that the North promised to open its treasure +vault to them--an attitude which Bill Wagstaff encouraged and abetted +in his own whimsical fashion. There was nothing too good for them, he +sometimes observed, provided it could be got. But there was one +profound difference in their respective temperaments, Hazel sometimes +reflected. Bill would shrug his wide shoulders, and forget or forego +the unattainable, where she would chafe and fume. She was quite +positive of this. + +But as the days passed there seemed no question of their complete +success. Bill fabricated his rocker, a primitive, boxlike device with +a blanket screen and transverse slats below. It was faster than the +pan, even rude as it was, and it caught all but the finer particles of +gold. Hazel helped operate the rocker, and took her turn at shoveling +or filling the box with water while Bill rocked. Each day's end sent +her to her bed healthily tired, but happily conscious that she had +helped to accomplish something. + +A queer twist of luck put the cap-sheaf on their undertaking. Hazel +ran a splinter of wood into her hand, thus putting a stop to her +activities with shovel and pail. Until the wound lost its soreness she +was forced to sit idle. She could watch Bill ply his rocker while she +fought flies on the bank. This grew tiresome, particularly since she +had the sense to realize that a man who works with sweat streaming down +his face and a mind wholly absorbed in the immediate task has no desire +to be bothered with inconsequential chatter. So she rambled along the +creek one afternoon, armed with hook and line on a pliant willow in +search of sport. + +The trout were hungry, and struck fiercely at the bait. She soon had +plenty for supper and breakfast. Wherefore she abandoned that +diversion, and took to prying tentatively in the lee of certain +bowlders on the edge of the creek--prospecting on her own initiative, +as it were. She had no pan, and only one hand to work with, but she +knew gold when she saw it--and, after all, it was but an idle method of +killing time. + +She noticed behind each rock and in every shallow, sheltered place in +the stream a plentiful gathering of tiny red stones. They were of a +pale, ruby cast, and mostly flawed; dainty trifles, translucent and +full of light when she held them to the sun. She began a search for a +larger specimen. It might mount nicely into a stickpin for Bill, she +thought; a memento of the Klappan Range. + +And in this search she came upon a large, rusty pebble, snuggled on the +downstream side of an over-hanging rock right at the water's edge. It +attracted her first by its symmetrical form, a perfect oval; then, when +she lifted it, by its astonishing weight. She continued her search for +the pinkish-red stones, carrying the rusty pebble along. Presently she +worked her way back to where Roaring Bill labored prodigiously. + +"I feel ashamed to be loafing while you work so hard, Billy-boy," she +greeted. + +"Give me a kiss and I'll call it square," he proposed cheerfully. "Got +to work like a beaver, kid. This hot weather'll put us to the bad +before long. There'll be ten feet of water roaring down here one of +these days." + +"Look at these pretty stones I found," she said. "What are they, Bill?" + +"Those?" He looked at her outstretched palm. "Garnets." + +"Garnets? They must be valuable, then," she observed. "The creek's +full of them." + +"Valuable? I should say so," he grinned. "I sent a sample to a +Chicago firm once. They replied to the effect that they would take all +I could deliver, and pay thirty-six dollars a ton, f. o. b., my nearest +railroad station." + +"Oh!" she protested. "But they're pretty." + +"Yes, if you can find one of any size. What's the other rock?" he +inquired casually. "You making a collection of specimens?" + +"That's just a funny stone I found," she returned. "It must be iron or +something. It's terribly heavy for its size." + +"Eh? Let me see it," he said. + +She handed it over. + +He weighed it in his palm, scrutinized it closely, turning it over and +over. Then he took out his knife and scratched the rusty surface +vigorously for a few minutes. + +"Huh!" he grunted. "Look at your funny stone." + +He held it out for her inspection. The blade of his knife had left a +dull, yellow scar. + +"Oh!" she gasped. "Why--it's gold!" + +"It is, woman," he declaimed, with mock solemnity. "Gold--glittering +gold! + +"Say, where did you find this?" he asked, when Hazel stared at the +nugget, dumb in the face of this unexpected stroke of fortune. + +"Just around the second bend," she cried. "Oh, Bill, do you suppose +there's any more there?" + +"Lead me to it with my trusty pan and shovel, and we'll see," Bill +smiled. + +Forthwith they set out. The overhanging bowlder was a scant ten +minute's walk up the creek. + +Bill leaned on his shovel, and studied the ground. Then, getting down +on his knees at the spot where the marks of Hazel's scratching showed +plain enough, he began to paw over the gravel. + +Within five minutes his fingers brought to light a second lump, double +the size of her find. Close upon that he winnowed a third. Hazel +leaned over him, breathless. He sifted the gravel and sand through his +fingers slowly, picking out and examining all that might be the +precious metal, and as he picked and clawed the rusty, brown nuggets +came to light. At last he reached bottom. The bowlder thrust out +below in a natural shelf. From this Bill carefully scraped the +accumulation of black sand and gravel, gleaning as a result of his +labor a baker's dozen of assorted chunks--one giant that must have +weighed three pounds. He sat back on his haunches, and looked at his +wife, speechless. + +"Is that truly _all_ gold, Bill?" she whispered incredulously. + +"It certainly is--as good gold as ever went into the mint," he assured. +"All laid in a nice little nest on this shelf of rock. I've heard of +such things up in this country, but I never ran into one before--and +I've always taken this pocket theory with a grain of salt. But there +you are. That's a real, honest-to-God pocket. And a well-lined one, +if you ask me. This rusty-colored outside is oxidized iron--from the +black sand, I guess. Still, it might be something else. But I know +what the inside is, all right, all right." + +"My goodness!" she murmured. "There might be wagonloads of it in this +creek." + +"There might, but it isn't likely." Bill shook his head. "This is a +simon-pure pocket, and it would keep a graduate mineralogist guessing +to say how it got here, because it's a different proposition from the +wash gold in the creek bed. I've got all that's here, I'm pretty sure. +And you might prospect this creek from end to end and never find +another nugget bigger than a pea. It's rich placer ground, at +that--but this pocket's almost unbelievable. Must be forty pounds of +gold there. And you found it. You're the original mascot, little +person." + +He bestowed a bearlike hug upon her. + +"Now what?" she asked. "It hardly seems real to pick up several +thousand dollars in half an hour or so like this. What will we do?" + +"Do? Why, bless your dear soul," he laughed. "We'll just consider +ourselves extra lucky, and keep right on with the game till the high +water makes us quit." + +Which was a contingency nearer at hand than even Bill, with a firsthand +knowledge of the North's vagaries in the way of flood, quite +anticipated. + +Three days after the finding of the pocket the whole floor of the creek +was awash. His rocker went downstream overnight. To the mouth of the +cañon where the branch sought junction with the parent stream they +could ascend, and no farther. And when Bill saw that he rolled himself +a cigarette, and, putting one long arm across his wife's shoulders, +said whimsically: + +"What d'you say we start home?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE STRESS OF THE TRAIL + +Roaring Bill dumped his second pack on the summit of the Klappan, and +looked away to where the valley that opened out of the basin showed its +blurred hollow in the distance. But he uttered no useless regrets. +With horses they could have ridden south through a rolling country, +where every stretch of timber gave on a grass-grown level. Instead +they were forced back over the rugged route by which they had crossed +the range the summer before. Grub, bedding, furs, and gold totaled two +hundred pounds. On his sturdy shoulders Bill could pack half that +weight. For his wife the thing was a physical impossibility, even had +he permitted her to try. Hence every mile advanced meant that he +doubled the distance, relaying from one camp to the next. They cut +their bedding to a blanket apiece, and that was Hazel's load--all he +would allow her to carry. + +"You're no pack mule, little person," he would say. "It don't hurt me. +I've done this for years." + +But even with abnormal strength and endurance, it was killing work to +buck those ragged slopes with a heavy load. Only by terrible, +unremitting effort could he advance any appreciable distance. From +daybreak till noon they would climb and rest alternately. Then, after +a meal and a short breathing spell, he would go back alone after the +second load. They were footsore, and their bodies ached with weariness +that verged on pain when they gained the pass that cut the summit of +the Klappan Range. + +"Well, we're over the hump," Bill remarked thankfully. "It's a +downhill shoot to the Skeena. I don't think it's more than fifty or +sixty miles to where we can take to the water." + +They made better time on the western slope, but the journey became a +matter of sheer endurance. Summer was on them in full blaze. The +creeks ran full and strong. Thunderstorms blew up out of a clear sky +to deluge them. Food was scanty--flour and salt and tea; with meat and +fish got by the way. And the black flies and mosquitoes swarmed about +them maddeningly day and night. + +So they came at last to the Skeena, and Hazel's heart misgave her when +she took note of its swirling reaches, the sinuous eddies--a deep, +swift, treacherous stream. But Bill rested overnight, and in the +morning sought and felled a sizable cedar, and began to hew. Slowly +the thick trunk shaped itself to the form of a boat under the steady +swing of his ax. Hazel had seen the type in use among the coast +Siwashes, twenty-five feet in length, narrow-beamed, the sides cut to a +half inch in thickness, the bottom left heavier to withstand scraping +over rock, and to keep it on an even keel. A rude and tricky craft, +but one wholly efficient in capable hands. + +In a week it was finished. They loaded the sack of gold, the bundle of +furs, their meager camp outfit amidships, and swung off into the stream. + +The Skeena drops fifteen hundred feet in a hundred miles. Wherefore +there are rapids, boiling stretches of white water in which many a good +canoe has come to grief. Some of these they ran at imminent peril. +Over the worst they lined the canoe from the bank. One or two short +cañons they portaged, dragging the heavy dugout through the brush by +main strength. Once they came to a wall-sided gorge that ran away +beyond any attempt at portage, and they abandoned the dugout, to build +another at the lower end. But between these natural barriers they +clicked off the miles in hot haste, such was the swiftness of the +current. And in the second week of July they brought up at the head of +Kispiox Cañon. Hazleton lay a few miles below. But the Kispiox stayed +them, a sluice box cut through solid stone, in which the waters raged +with a deafening roar. No man ventured into that wild gorge. They +abandoned the dugout. Bill slung the sack of gold and the bale of furs +on his back. + +"It's the last lap, Hazel," said he. "We'll leave the rest of it for +the first Siwash that happens along." + +So they set out bravely to trudge the remaining distance. And as the +fortunes of the trail sometimes befall, they raised an Indian camp on +the bank of the river at the mouth of the cañon. A ten-dollar bill +made them possessors of another canoe, and an hour later the roofs of +Hazleton cropped up above the bank. + +"Oh, Bill," Hazel called from the bow. "Look! There's the same old +steamer tied to the same old bank. We've been gone a year, and yet the +world hasn't changed a mite. I wonder if Hazleton has taken a Rip van +Winkle sleep all this time?" + +"No fear," he smiled. "I can see some new houses--quite a few, in +fact. And look--by Jiminy! They're working on the grade. That +railroad, remember? See all those teams? Maybe I ought to have taken +up old Hackaberry on that town-lot proposition, after all." + +"Fiddlesticks!" she retorted, with fine scorn of Hazleton's real-estate +possibilities. "You could buy the whole town with this." + +She touched the sack with her toe. + +"Not quite," Bill returned placidly. "I wouldn't, anyway. We'll get a +better run for our money than that. I hope old Hack didn't forget to +attend to that ranch business for me." + +He drove the canoe alongside a float. A few loungers viewed them with +frank curiosity. Bill set out the treasure sack and the bale of furs, +and tied the canoe. + +"A new hotel, by Jove!" he remarked, when upon gaining the level of the +town a new two-story building blazoned with a huge sign its function as +a hostelry. "Getting quite metropolitan in this neck of the woods. +Say, little person, do you think you can relish a square meal? Planked +steak and lobster salad--huh? I wonder if they _could_ rustle a salad +in this man's town? Say, do you know I'm just beginning to find out +how hungry I am for the flesh-pots. What's the matter with a little +variety?--as Lin MacLean said. Aren't you, hon?" + +She was; frankly so. For long, monotonous months she had been +struggling against just such cravings, impossible of realization, and +therefore all the more tantalizing. She had been a year in the +wilderness, and the wilderness had not only lost its glamour, but had +become a thing to flee from. Even the rude motley of Hazleton was a +welcome change. Here at least--on a minor scale, to be sure--was that +which she craved, and to which she had been accustomed--life, stir, +human activity, the very antithesis of the lonely mountain fastnesses. +She bestowed a glad pressure on her husband's arm as they walked up the +street, Bill carrying the sack of gold perched carelessly on one +shoulder. + +"Say, their enterprise has gone the length of establishing a branch +bank here, I see." + +He called her attention to a square-fronted edifice, its new-boarded +walls as yet guiltless of paint, except where a row of black letters +set forth that it was the Bank of British North America. + +"That's a good place to stow this bullion," he remarked. "I want to +get it off my hands." + +So to the bank they bent their steps. A solemn, horse-faced Englishman +weighed the gold, and issued Bill a receipt, expressing a polite regret +that lack of facility to determine its fineness prevented him from +converting it into cash. + +"That means a trip to Vancouver," Bill remarked outside. "Well, we can +stand that." + +From the bank they went to the hotel, registered, and were shown to a +room. For the first time since the summit of the Klappan Range, where +her tiny hand glass had suffered disaster, Hazel was permitted a clear +view of herself in a mirror. + +"I'm a perfect fright!" she mourned. + +"Huh!" Bill grunted. "You're all right. Look at me." + +The trail had dealt hardly with both, in the matter of their personal +appearance. Tanned to an abiding brown, they were, and Hazel's +one-time smooth face was spotted with fly bites and marked with certain +scratches suffered in the brush as they skirted the Kispiox. Her hair +had lost its sleek, glossy smoothness of arrangement. Her hands were +reddened and rough. But chiefly she was concerned with the sad state +of her apparel. She had come a matter of four hundred miles in the +clothes on her back--and they bore unequivocal evidence of the journey. + +"I'm a perfect fright," she repeated pettishly. "I don't wonder that +people lapse into semi-barbarism in the backwoods. One's manners, +morals, clothing, and complexion all suffer from too close contact with +your beloved North, Bill." + +"Thanks!" he returned shortly. "I suppose I'm a perfect fright, too. +Long hair, whiskers, grimy, calloused hands, and all the rest of it. A +shave and a hair cut, a bath and a new suit of clothes will remedy +that. But I'll be the same personality in every essential quality that +I was when I sweated over the Klappan with a hundred pounds on my back." + +"I hope so," she retorted. "I don't require the shave, thank goodness, +but I certainly need a bath--and clothes. I wish I had the gray suit +that's probably getting all moldy and moth-eaten at the Pine River +cabin. I wonder if I can get anything fit to wear here?" + +"Women live here," Bill returned quietly, "and I suppose the stores +supply 'em with duds. Unlimber that bank roll of yours, and do some +shopping." + +She sat on the edge of the bed, regarding her reflection in the mirror +with extreme disfavor. Bill fingered his thick stubble of a beard for +a thoughtful minute. Then he sat down beside her. + +"Wha's a mollah, hon?" he wheedled. "What makes you such a crosser +patch all at once?" + +"Oh, I don't know," she answered dolefully. "I'm tired and hungry, and +I look a fright--and--oh, just everything." + +"Tut, tut!" he remonstrated good-naturedly. "That's just mood again. +We're out of the woods, literally and figuratively. If you're hungry, +let's go and see what we can make this hotel produce in the way of +grub, before we do anything else." + +"I wouldn't go into their dining-room looking like this for the world," +she said decisively. "I didn't realize how dirty and shabby I was." + +"All right; you go shopping, then," he proposed, "while I take these +furs up to old Hack's place and turn them into money. Then we'll +dress, and make this hotel feed us the best they've got. Cheer up. +Maybe it was tough on you to slice a year out of your life and leave it +in a country where there's nothing but woods and eternal silence--but +we've got around twenty thousand dollars to show for it, Hazel. And +one can't get something for nothing. There's a price mark on it +somewhere, always. We've got all our lives before us, little person, +and a better chance for happiness than most folks have. Don't let +little things throw you into the blues. Be my good little pal--and see +if you can't make one of these stores dig up a white waist and a black +skirt, like you had on the first time I saw you." + +He kissed her, and went quickly out. And after a long time of sober +staring at her image in the glass Hazel shook herself impatiently. + +"I'm a silly, selfish, incompetent little beast," she whispered. "Bill +ought to thump me, instead of being kind. I can't do anything, and I +don't know much, and I'm a scarecrow for looks right now. And I +started out to be a real partner." + +She wiped an errant tear away, and made her way to a store--a new place +sprung up, like the bank and the hotel, with the growing importance of +the town. The stock of ready-made clothing drove her to despair. It +seemed that what women resided in Hazleton must invariably dress in +Mother Hubbard gowns of cheap cotton print with other garments to +match. But eventually they found for her undergarments of a sort, a +waist and skirt, and a comfortable pair of shoes. Hats, as a milliner +would understand the term, there were none. And in default of such she +stuck to the gray felt sombrero she had worn into the Klappan and out +again--which, in truth, became her very well, when tilted at the proper +angle above her heavy black hair. Then she went back to the hotel, and +sought a bathroom. + +Returning from this she found Bill, a Bill all shaved and shorn, +unloading himself of sundry packages of new attire. + +"Aha, everything is lovely," he greeted enthusiastically. "Old Hack +jumped at the pelts, and paid a fat price for the lot. Also the ranch +deal has gone through. He's a prince, old Hack. Sent up a man and had +it surveyed and classified and the deed waiting for me. And--oh, say, +here's a letter for you." + +"For me? Oh, yes," as she looked at the hand-writing and postmark. "I +wrote to Loraine Marsh when we were going north. Good heavens, look at +the date--it's been here since last September!" + +"Hackaberry knew where we were," Bill explained. "Sometimes in camps +like this they hold mail two or three years for men that have gone into +the interior." + +She put aside the letter, and dressed while Bill had his bath. Then, +with the smoke and grime of a hard trail obliterated, and with decent +clothes upon them, they sought the dining-room. There, while they +waited to be served, Hazel read Loraine Marsh's letter, and passed it +to Bill with a self-conscious little laugh. + +"There's an invitation there we might accept," she said casually. + +Bill read. There were certain comments upon her marriage, such as the +average girl might be expected to address to her chum who has forsaken +spinsterhood, a lot of chatty mention of Granville people and Granville +happenings, which held no particular interest for Bill since he knew +neither one nor the other, and it ended with an apparently sincere hope +that Hazel and her husband would visit Granville soon as the Marshes' +guests. + +He returned the letter as the waitress brought their food. + +"Wouldn't it be nice to take a trip home?" Hazel suggested +thoughtfully. "I'd love to." + +"We are going home," Bill reminded gently. + +"Oh, of course," she smiled. "But I mean to Granville. I'd like to go +back there with you for a while, just to--just to--" + +"To show 'em," he supplied laconically. + +"Oh, Bill!" she pouted. + +Nevertheless, she could not deny that there was a measure of truth in +his brief remark. She did want to "show 'em." Bill's vernacular +expressed it exactly. She had compassed success in a manner that +Granville--and especially that portion of Granville which she knew and +which knew her--could appreciate and understand and envy according to +its individual tendencies. + +She looked across the table at her husband, and thought to herself with +proud satisfaction that she had done well. Viewed from any angle +whatsoever, Bill Wagstaff stood head and shoulders above all the men +she had ever known. Big, physically and mentally, clean-minded and +capable--indubitably she had captured a lion, and, though she might +have denied stoutly the imputation, she wanted Granville to see her +lion and hear him roar. + +Whether they realize the fact or not, to the average individual, male +or female, reflected glory is better than none at all. And when two +people stand in the most intimate relation to each other, the success +of one lends a measure of its luster to the other. Those who had been +so readily impressed by Andrew Bush's device to singe her social wings +with the flame of gossip had long since learned their mistake. She had +the word of Loraine Marsh and Jack Barrow that they were genuinely +sorry for having been carried away by appearances. And she could nail +her colors to the mast if she came home the wife of a man like Bill +Wagstaff, who could wrest a fortune from the wilderness in a briefer +span of time than it took most men to make current expenses. Hazel was +quite too human to refuse a march triumphal if it came her way. She +had left Granville in bitterness of spirit, and some of that bitterness +required balm. + +"Still thinking Granville?" Bill queried, when they had finished an +uncommonly silent meal. + +Hazel flushed slightly. She was, and momentarily she felt that she +should have been thinking of their little nest up by Pine River Pass +instead. She knew that Bill was homing to the cabin. She herself +regarded it with affection, but of a different degree from his. Her +mind was more occupied with another, more palpitating circle of life +than was possible at the cabin, much as she appreciated its green and +peaceful beauty. The sack of gold lying in the bank had somehow opened +up far-flung possibilities. She skipped the interval of affairs which +she knew must be attended to, and betook herself and Bill to Granville, +thence to the bigger, older cities, where money shouted in the voice of +command, where all things were possible to those who had the price. + +She had had her fill of the wilderness--for the time being, she put it. +It loomed behind her--vast, bleak, a desolation of loneliness from +which she must get away. She knew now, beyond peradventure, that her +heart had brought her back to the man in spite of, rather than because +of, his environment. And secure in the knowledge of his love for her +and her love for him, she was already beginning to indulge a dream of +transplanting him permanently to kindlier surroundings, where he would +have wider scope for his natural ability and she less isolation. + +But she was beginning to know this husband of hers too well to propose +anything of the sort abruptly. Behind his tenderness and patience she +had sometimes glimpsed something inflexible, unyielding as the +wilderness he loved. So she merely answered: + +"In a way, yes." + +"Let's go outside where I can smoke a decent cigar on top of this +fairly decent meal," he suggested. "Then we'll figure on the next +move. I think about twenty-four hours in Hazleton will do me. There's +a steamer goes down-river to-morrow." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +NEIGHBORS + +Four days later they stood on the deck of a grimy little steamer +breasting the outgoing tide that surged through the First Narrows. +Wooded banks on either hand spread dusky green in the hot August sun. +On their left glinted the roofs and white walls of Hollyburn, dear to +the suburban heart. Presently they swung around Brockton Point, and +Vancouver spread its peninsular clutter before them. Tugs and launches +puffed by, about their harbor traffic. A ferry clustered black with +people hurried across the inlet. But even above the harbor noises, +across the intervening distance they could hear the vibrant hum of the +industrial hive. + +"Listen to it," said Bill. "Like surf on the beaches. And, like the +surf, it's full of treacherous undercurrents, a bad thing to get into +unless you can swim strong enough to keep your head above water." + +"You're a thoroughgoing pessimist," she smiled. + +"No," he shook his head. "I merely know that it's a hard game to buck, +under normal conditions. We're of the fortunate few, that's all." + +"You're not going to spoil the pleasure that's within your reach by +pondering the misfortunes of those who are less lucky, are you?" she +inquired curiously. + +"Not much," he drawled. "Besides, that isn't my chief objection to +town. I simply can't endure the noise and confusion and the manifold +stinks, and the universal city attitude--which is to gouge the other +fellow before he gouges you. Too much like a dog fight. No, I haven't +any mission to remedy social and economic ills. I'm taking the +egotistic view that it doesn't concern me, that I'm perfectly justified +in enjoying myself in my own way, seeing that I'm in a position to do +so. We're going to take our fun as we find it. Just the same," he +finished thoughtfully, "I'd as soon be pulling into that ranch of ours +on the hurricane deck of a right good horse as approaching Vancouver's +water front. This isn't any place to spend money or to see anything. +It's a big, noisy, over-grown village, overrun with business exploiters +and real-estate sharks. It'll be a city some day. At present it's +still in the shambling stage of civic youth." + +In so far as Hazel had observed upon her former visit, this, if a +trifle sweeping, was in the main correct. So she had no regrets when +Bill confined their stay to the time necessary to turn his gold into a +bank account, and allow her to buy a trunkful, more or less, of pretty +clothes. Then they bore on eastward and halted at Ashcroft. Bill had +refused to commit himself positively to a date for the eastern +pilgrimage. He wanted to see the cabin again. For that matter she +did, too--so that their sojourn there did not carry them over another +winter. That loomed ahead like a vague threat. Those weary months in +the Klappan Range had filled her with the subtle poison of discontent, +for which she felt that new scenes and new faces would prove the only +antidote. + +"There's a wagon road to Fort George," he told her. "We could go in +there by the B. X. steamers, but I'm afraid we couldn't buy an outfit +to go on. I guess a pack outfit from the end of the stage line will be +about right." + +From Ashcroft an auto stage whirled them swiftly into the heart of the +Cariboo country--to Quesnelle, where Bill purchased four head of horses +in an afternoon, packed, saddled, and hit the trail at daylight in the +morning. + +It was very pleasant to loaf along a passable road mounted on a +light-footed horse, and Hazel enjoyed it if for no more than the +striking contrast to that terrible journey in and out of the Klappan. +Here were no heartbreaking mountains to scale. The scourge of flies +was well-nigh past. They took the road in easy stages, +well-provisioned, sleeping in a good bed at nights, camping as the +spirit moved when a likely trout stream crossed their trail, venison +and grouse all about them for variety of diet and the sport of hunting. + +So they fared through the Telegraph Range, crossed the Blackwater, and +came to Fort George by way of a ferry over the Fraser. + +"This country is getting civilized," Bill observed that evening. "They +tell me the G. T. P. has steel laid to a point three hundred miles east +of here. This bloomin' road'll be done in another year. They're +grading all along the line. I bought that hundred and sixty acres on +pure sentiment, but it looks like it may turn out a profitable business +transaction. That railroad is going to flood this country with +farmers, and settlement means a network of railroads and skyrocketing +ascension of land values." + +The vanguard of the land hungry had already penetrated to Fort George. +Up and down the Nachaco Valley, and bordering upon the Fraser, were the +cabins of the preëmptors. The roads were dotted with the teams of the +incoming. A sizable town had sprung up around the old trading post. + +"They come like bees when the rush starts," Bill remarked. + +Leaving Fort George behind, they bore across country toward Pine River. +Here and there certain landmarks, graven deep in Hazel's recollection, +uprose to claim her attention. And one evening at sunset they rode up +to the little cabin, all forlorn in its clearing. + +The grass waved to their stirrups, and the pigweed stood rank up to the +very door. + +Inside, a gray film of dust had accumulated on everything, and the +rooms were oppressive with the musty odors that gather in a closed, +untenanted house. But apart from that it stood as they had left it +thirteen months before. No foot had crossed the threshold. The pile +of wood and kindling lay beside the fireplace as Bill had placed it the +morning they left. + +"'Be it ever so humble,'" Bill left the line of the old song +unfinished, but his tone was full of jubilation. Between them they +threw wide every door and window. The cool evening wind filled the +place with sweet, pine-scented air. Then Bill started a blaze roaring +in the black-mouthed fireplace--to make it look natural, he said--and +went out to hobble his horses for the night. + +In the morning they began to unpack their household goods. Rugs and +bearskins found each its accustomed place upon the floor. His books +went back on the shelves. With magical swiftness the cabin resumed its +old-home atmosphere. And that night Bill stretched himself on the +grizzly hide before the fireplace, and kept his nose in a book until +Hazel, who was in no humor to read, fretted herself into something +approaching a temper. + +"You're about as sociable as a clam," she broke into his absorption at +last. + +He looked up in surprise, then chucked the volume carelessly aside, and +twisted himself around till his head rested in her lap. + +"Vot iss?" he asked cheerfully. "Lonesome? Bored with yourself? +Ain't I here?" + +"Your body is," she retorted. "But your spirit is communing with those +musty old philosophers." + +"Oh, be good--go thou and do likewise," he returned impenitently. "I'm +tickled to death to be home. And I'm fairly book-starved. It's fierce +to be deprived of even a newspaper for twelve months. I'll be a year +getting caught up. Surely you don't feel yourself neglected because I +happen to have my nose stuck in a book?" + +"Of course not!" she denied vigorously. The childish absurdity of her +attitude struck her with sudden force. "Still, I'd like you to talk to +me once in a while." + +"'Of shoes and ships and sealing wax; of cabbages and kings,'" he flung +at her mischievously. "I'll make music; that's better than mere words." + +He picked up his mandolin and tuned the strings. Like most things +which he set out to do, Bill had mastered his instrument, and could +coax out of it all the harmony of which it was capable. He seemed to +know music better than many who pass for musicians. But he broke off +in the midst of a bar. + +"Say, we could get a piano in here next spring," he said. "I just +recollected it. We'll do it." + +Now, this was something that she had many a time audibly wished for. +Yet the prospect aroused no enthusiasm. + +"That'll be nice," she said--but not as she would have said it a year +earlier. Bill's eyes narrowed a trifle, but he still smiled. And +suddenly he stepped around behind her chair, put both hands under her +chin, and tilted her head backward. + +"Ah, you're plumb sick and tired to death of everything, aren't you?" +he said soberly. "You've been up here too long. You sure need a +change. I'll have to take you out and give you the freedom of the +cities, let you dissipate and pink-tea, and rub elbows with the mob for +a while. Then you'll be glad to drift back to this woodsy hiding-place +of ours. When do you want to start?" + +"Why, Bill!" she protested. + +But she realized in a flash that Bill could read her better than she +could read herself. Few of her emotions could remain long hidden from +that keenly observing and mercilessly logical mind. She knew that he +guessed where she stood, and by what paths she had gotten there. Trust +him to know. And it made her very tender toward him that he was so +quick to understand. Most men would have resented. + +"I want to stack a few tons of hay," he went on, disregarding her +exclamation. "I'll need it in the spring, if not this winter. Soon as +that's done we'll hit the high spots. We'll take three or four +thousand dollars, and while it lasts we'll be a couple of--of +high-class tramps. Huh? Does it sound good?" + +She nodded vigorously. + +"High-class tramps," she repeated musingly. + +"That sounds fine." + +"Perk up, then," he wheedled. + +"Bill-boy," she murmured, "you mustn't take me too seriously." + +"I took you for better or for worse," he answered, with a kiss. "I +don't want it to turn out worse. I want you to be contented and happy +here, where I've planned to make our home. I know you love me quite a +lot, little person. Nature fitted us in a good many ways to be mates. +But you've gone through a pretty drastic siege of isolation in this +rather grim country, and I guess it doesn't seem such an alluring place +as it did at first. I don't want you to nurse that feeling until it +becomes chronic. Then we would be out of tune, and it would be good-by +happiness. But I think I know the cure for your malady." + +That was his final word. He deliberately switched the conversation +into other channels. + +In the morning he began his hay cutting. About eleven o'clock he threw +down his scythe and stalked to the house. + +"Put on your hat, and let's go investigate a mystery," said he. "I +heard a cow bawl in the woods a minute ago. A regular barnyard bellow." + +"A cow bawling?" she echoed. "Sure? What would cattle be doing away +up here?" + +"That's what I want to know?" Bill laughed. "I've never seen a cow +north of the Frazer--not this side of the Rockies, anyway." + +They saddled their horses, and rode out in the direction from whence +had arisen the bovine complaint. The sound was not repeated, and Hazel +had begun to chaff Bill about a too-vivid imagination when within a +half mile of the clearing he pulled his horse up short in the middle of +a little meadow. + +"Look!" + +The track of a broad-tired wagon had freshly crushed the thick grass. +Bill squinted at the trail, then his gaze swept the timber beyond. + +"Well!" + +"What is it, Bill?" Hazel asked. + +"Somebody has been cutting timber over there," he enlightened. "I can +see the fresh ax work. Looks like they'd been hauling poles. Let's +follow this track a ways." + +The tiny meadow was fringed on the north by a grove of poplars. Beyond +that lay another clear space of level land, perhaps forty acres in +extent. They broke through the belt of poplars--and pulled up again. + +On one side of the meadow stood a cabin, the fresh-peeled log walls +glaring yellow in the sun, and lifting an earth-covered roof to the +autumn sky. Bill whistled softly. + +"I'll be hanged," he uttered, "if there isn't the cow!" + +Along the west side of the meadow ran a brown streak of sod, and down +one side of this a man guided the handles of a plow drawn by the +strangest yokemates Hazel's eyes had seen for many a day. + +"For goodness' sake!" she exclaimed. + +"That's the true pioneer spirit for you," Bill spoke absently. "He has +bucked his way into the heart of a virgin country, and he's breaking +sod with a mule and a cow. That's adaptation to environment with a +vengeance--and grit." + +"There's a woman, too, Bill. And see--she's carrying a baby!" Hazel +pointed excitedly. "Oh, Bill!" + +"Let's go over." He stirred up his horse. "What did I tell you about +folk that hanker for lots of elbow-room? They're coming." + +The man halted his strangely assorted team to watch them come. The +woman stood a step outside the door, a baby in her arms, another +toddler holding fast to her skirt. A thick-bodied, short, +square-shouldered man was this newcomer, with a round, pleasant face. + +"Hello, neighbor!" Bill greeted. + +The plowman lifted his old felt hat courteously. His face lit up. + +"_Ach_!" said he. "Neighbor. Dot iss a goot vord in diss country vere +dere iss no neighbor. But I am glat to meet you. Vill you come do der +house und rest a v'ile?" + +"Sure!" Bill responded. "But we're neighbors, all right. Did you +notice a cabin about half a mile west of here? That's our place--when +we're at home." + +"So?" The word escaped with the peculiar rising inflection of the +Teuton. "I haf saw dot cabin veil ve come here. But I dink it vass +abandon. Und I pick dis place mitout hope off a neighbor. Id iss goot +lant. Veil, let us to der house go. Id vill rest der mule--und +Gretchen, der cow. Hah!" + +He rolled a blue eye on his incongruous team, and grinned widely. + +"Come," he invited; "mine vife vill be glat." + +They found her a matron of thirty-odd; fresh-cheeked, round-faced like +her husband, typically German, without his accent of the Fatherland. +Hazel at once appropriated the baby. It lay peacefully in her arms, +staring wide-eyed, making soft, gurgly sounds. + +"The little dear!" Hazel murmured. + +"Lauer, our name iss," the man said casually, when they were seated. + +"Wagstaff, mine is," Bill completed the informal introduction. + +"So?" Lauer responded. "Id hass a German sount, dot name, yes." + +"Four or five generations back," Bill answered. "I guess I'm as +American as they make 'em." + +"I am from Bavaria," Lauer told him. "Vill you shmoke? I light mine +bibe--mit your vife's permission." + +"Yes," he continued, stuffing the bowl of his pipe with a stubby +forefinger, "I am from Bavaria. Dere I vass upon a farm brought oop. +I serf in der army my dime. Den Ameriga. Dere I marry my vife, who is +born in Milvaukee. I vork in der big brreweries. Afder dot I learn to +be a carpenter. Now I am a kink, mit a castle all mine own, I am no +more a vage slafe." + +He laughed at his own conceit, a great, roaring bellow that filled the +room. + +"You're on the right track," Bill nodded. "It's a pity more people +don't take the same notion. What do you think of this country, anyway?" + +"It iss goot," Lauer answered briefly, and with unhesitating certainty. +"It iss goot. Vor der boor man it iss--it iss salfation. Mit fife +huntret tollars und hiss two hants he can himself a home make--und a +lifing be sure off." + +Beside Hazel Lauer's wife absently caressed the blond head of her +four-year-old daughter. + +"No, I don't think I'll ever get lonesome," she said. "I'm too glad to +be here. And I've got lots of work and my babies. Of course, it's +natural I'd miss a woman friend running in now and then to chat. But a +person can't have it all. And I'd do anything to have a roof of our +own, and to have it some place where our livin' don't depend on a pay +envelope. Oh, a city's dreadful, I think, when your next meal almost +depends on your man holdin' his job. I've lived in town ever since I +was fifteen. I lost three babies in Milwaukee--hot weather, bad air, +bad milk, bad everything, unless you have plenty of money. Many a time +I've sat and cried, just from thinkin' how bad I wanted a little place +of our own, where there was grass and trees and a piece of ground for a +garden. And I knew we'd never be able to buy it. We couldn't get +ahead enough." + +"Und so," her husband took up the tale, "I hear off diss country, vere +lant can be for noddings got. Und so we scrape und pinch und safe +nickels und dimes for fife year. Und here ve are. All der vay from +Visconsin in der vaigon, yes. Mit two mules. In Ashcroft I buy der +cow, so dot ve haf der fresh milk. Und dot iss lucky. For von mule +iss die on der road. So I am plow oop der lant und haul my vaigon mit +von mule und Gretchen, der cow." + +Hazel had a momentary vision of unrelated hardships by the way, and she +wondered how the man could laugh and his wife smile over it. She knew +the stifling heat of narrow streets in mid-summer, and the hungry +longing for cool, green shade. She had seen something of a city's +poverty. But she knew also the privations of the trail. Two thousand +miles in a wagon! And at the journey's end only a rude cabin of +logs--and years of steady toil. Isolation in a huge and lonely land. +Yet these folk were happy. She wondered briefly if her own viewpoint +were possibly askew. She knew that she could not face such a prospect +except in utter rebellion. Not now. The bleak peaks of the Klappan +rose up before her mind's eye, the picture of five horses dead in the +snow, the wolves that snapped and snarled over their bones. She +shuddered. She was still pondering this when she and Bill dismounted +at home. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE DOLLAR CHASERS + +Granville took them to its bosom with a haste and earnestness that made +Hazel catch her breath. The Marshes took possession of them upon their +arrival, and they were no more than domiciled under the Marsh roof than +all her old friends flocked to call. Tactfully none so much as +mentioned Andrew Bush, nor the five-thousand-dollar legacy--the +disposition of which sum still perplexed that defunct gentleman's +worthy executors. And once more in a genial atmosphere Hazel concluded +to let sleeping dogs lie. Many a time in the past two years she had +looked forward to cutting them all as dead as they had cut her during +that unfortunate period. But once among them, and finding them +willing, nay, anxious, to forget that they had ever harbored unjust +thoughts of her, she took their proffered friendship at its face value. +It was quite gratifying to know that many of them envied her. She +learned from various sources that Bill's fortune loomed big, had grown +by some mysterious process of Granville tattle, until it had reached +the charmed six figures of convention. + +That in itself was sufficient to establish their prestige. In a +society that lived by and for the dollar, and measured most things with +its dollar yardstick, that murmured item opened--indeed, forced +open--many doors to herself and her husband which would otherwise have +remained rigid on their fastenings. It was pleasant to be sought out +and made much of, and it pleased her to think that some of her quondam +friends were genuinely sorry that they had once stood aloof. They +attempted to atone, it would seem. For three weeks they lived in an +atmosphere of teas and dinners and theater parties, a giddy little +whirl that grew daily more attractive, so far as Hazel was concerned. + +There had been changes. Jack Barrow had consoled himself with a bride. +Moreover, he was making good, in the popular phrase, at the real-estate +game. The Marshes, as she had previously known them, had been +tottering on the edge of shabby gentility. But they had come into +money. And as Bill slangily put it, they were using their pile to cut +a lot of social ice. Kitty Brooks' husband was now the head of the +biggest advertising agency in Granville. Hazel was glad of that mild +success. Kitty Brooks was the one person for whom she had always kept +a warm corner in her heart. Kitty had stood stoutly and unequivocally +by her when all the others had viewed her with a dubious eye. Aside +from these there were scores of young people who revolved in their same +old orbits. Two years will upon occasion make profound changes in some +lives, and leave others untouched. But change or no change, she found +herself caught up and carried along on a pleasant tide. + +She was inordinately proud of Bill, when she compared him with the +average Granville male--yet she found herself wishing he would adopt a +little more readily the Granville viewpoint. He fell short of it, or +went beyond it, she could not be sure which; she had an uneasy feeling +sometimes that he looked upon Granville doings and Granville folk with +amused tolerance, not unmixed with contempt. But he attracted +attention. Whenever he was minded to talk he found ready listeners. +And he did not seem to mind being dragged to various functions, +matinées, and the like. He fell naturally into that mode of existence, +no matter that it was in profound contrast to his previous manner of +life, as she knew it. She felt a huge satisfaction in that. Anything +but a well-bred man would have repelled her, and she had recognized +that quality in Bill Wagstaff even when he had carried her bodily into +the wilderness against her explicit desire that memorable time. And he +was now exhibiting an unsuspected polish. She used to wonder amusedly +if he were possibly the same Roaring Bill whom she had with her eyes +seen hammer a man insensible with his fists, who had kept "tough" +frontiersmen warily side-stepping him in Cariboo Meadows. Certainly he +was a many-sided individual. + +Once or twice she conjured up a vision of his getting into some +business there, and utterly foregoing the North--which for her was +already beginning to take on the aspect of a bleak and cheerless region +where there was none of the things which daily whetted her appetite for +luxury, nothing but hardships innumerable--and gold. The gold had been +their reward--a reward well earned, she thought. Still--they had been +wonderfully happy there at the Pine River cabin, she remembered. + +They came home from a theater party late one night. Bill sat down by +their bedroom window, and stared out at the street lights, twin rows of +yellow beads stretching away to a vanishing point in the pitch-black of +a cloudy night. Hazel kicked off her slippers, and gratefully toasted +her silk-stockinged feet at a small coal grate. Fall had come, and +there was a sharp nip to the air. + +"Well, what do you think of it as far as you've gone?" he asked +abruptly. + +"Of what?" she asked, jarred out of meditation upon the play they had +just witnessed. + +"All this." He waved a hand comprehensively. "This giddy swim we've +got into." + +"I think it's fine," she candidly admitted. "I'm enjoying myself. I +like it. Don't you?" + +"As a diversion," he observed thoughtfully, "I don't mind it. These +people are all very affable and pleasant, and they've rather gone out +of their way to entertain us. But, after all, what the dickens does it +amount to? They spend their whole life running in useless circles. I +should think they'd get sick of it. You will." + +"Hardly, Billum," she smiled. "We're merely making up for two years of +isolation. I think we must be remarkable people that we didn't fight +like cats and dogs. For eighteen months, you know, there wasn't a soul +to talk to, and not much to think about except what you could do if you +were some place else." + +"You're acquiring the atmosphere," he remarked--sardonically, she +thought. + +"No; just enjoying myself," she replied lightly. + +"Well, if you really are," he answered slowly, "we may as well settle +here for the winter--and get settled right away. I'm rather weary of +being a guest in another man's house, to tell you the truth." + +"Why, I'd love to stay here all winter," she said. "But I thought you +intended to knock around more or less." + +"But don't you see, you don't particularly care to," he pointed out; +"and it would spoil the fun of going any place for me if you were not +interested. And when it comes to a show-down I'm not aching to be a +bird of passage. One city is pretty much like another to me. You seem +to have acquired a fairly select circle of friends and acquaintances, +and you may as well have your fling right here. We'll take a run over +to New York. I want to get some books and things. Then we'll come +back here and get a house or a flat. I tell you right now," he laughed +not unpleasantly, "I'm going to renig on this society game. You can +play it as hard as you like, until spring. I'll be there with bells on +when it comes to a dance. And I'll go to a show--when a good play +comes along. But I won't mix up with a lot of silly women and equally +silly she-men, any more than is absolutely necessary." + +"Why, Bill!" she exclaimed, aghast. + +"Well, ain't it so?" he defended lazily. "There's Kitty Brooks--she +has certainly got intelligence above the average. That Lorimer girl +has brains superimposed on her artistic temperament, and she uses 'em +to advantage. Practically all the rest that I've met are intellectual +nonentities--strong on looks and clothes and amusing themselves, and +that lets them out. And they have no excuse, because they've had +unlimited advantages. The men divide themselves into two types. One +that chases the dollar, talks business, thinks business, knows nothing +outside of business, and their own special line of business at that; +the other type, like these Arthur fellows, and Dave Allan and T. +Fordham Brown, who go in for afternoon teas and such gentlemanly +pastimes, and whose most strenuous exercise is a game of billiards. +Shucks, there isn't a real man in the lot. Maybe I'll run across some +people who don't take a two-by-four view of life if I stay around here +long enough, but it hasn't happened to me yet. I hope I'm not an +intellectual snob, little person, any more than I'm puffed up over +happening to be a little bigger and stronger than the average man, but +I must say that the habitual conversation of these people gives me a +pain. That platitudinous discussion of the play to-night, for +instance." + +"That _was_ droll." Hazel chuckled at the recollection, and she +recalled the weary look that had once or twice flitted over Bill's face +during that after-theater supper. + +But she herself could see only the humor of it. She was fascinated by +the social niceties and the surroundings of the set she had drifted +into. The little dinners, the impromptu teas, the light chatter and +general atmosphere of luxury more than counterbalanced any other lack. +She wanted only to play, and she was prepared to seize avidly on any +form of pleasure, no matter if in last analysis it were utterly +frivolous. She could smile at the mental vacuity she encountered, and +think nothing of it, if with that vacuity went those material factors +which made for ease and entertainment. The physical side of her was +all alert. Luxury and the mild excitements of a social life that took +nothing seriously, those were the things she craved. For a long time +she had been totally deprived of them. Nor had such unlimited +opportunities ever before been in her grasp. + +"Yes, that was droll," she repeated. + +Bill snorted. + +"Droll? Perhaps," he said. "Blatant ignorance, coupled with a desire +to appear the possessor of culture, is sometimes amusing. But as a +general thing it simply irritates." + +"You're hard to please," she replied. "Can't you enjoy yourself, take +things as they come, without being so critical?" + +He shrugged his shoulders, and remained silent. + +"Well," he said presently, "we'll take that jaunt to New York day after +to-morrow." + +He was still sitting by the window when Hazel was ready to go to bed. +She came back into the room in a trailing silk kimono, and, stealing +softly up behind him, put both hands on his shoulders. + +"What are you thinking so hard about, Billy-boy?" she whispered. + +"I was thinking about Jake Lauer, and wondering how he was making it +go," Bill answered. "I was also picturing to myself how some of these +worthy citizens would mess things up if they had to follow in his +steps. Hang it, I don't know but we'd be better off if we were pegging +away for a foothold somewhere, like old Jake." + +"If we had to do that," she argued, "I suppose we would, and manage to +get along. But since we don't have to, why wish for it? Money makes +things pleasanter." + +"If money meant that we would be compelled to lead the sort of +existence most of these people do," he retorted, "I'd take measures to +be broke as soon as possible. What the deuce is there to it? The +women get up in the morning, spend the forenoon fixing themselves up to +take in some innocuous gabblefest after luncheon. Then they get into +their war paint for dinner, and after dinner rush madly off to some +other festive stunt. Swell rags and a giddy round. If it were just +fun, it would be all right. But it's the serious business of life with +them. And the men are in the same boat. All of 'em collectively don't +amount to a pinch of snuff. This thing that they call business is +mostly gambling with what somebody else has sweated to produce. +They're a soft-handed, soft-bodied lot of incompetent egotists, if you +ask me. Any of 'em would lick your boots in a genteel sort of way if +there was money in it; and they'd just as cheerfully chisel their best +friend out of his last dollar, if it could be done in a business way. +They haven't even the saving grace of physical hardihood." + +"You're awful!" Hazel commented. + +Bill snorted again. + +"To-morrow, you advise our hostess that we're traveling," he +instructed. "When we come back we'll make headquarters at a hotel +until we locate a place of our own--if you are sure you want to winter +here." + +Her mind was quite made up to spend the winter there, and she frankly +said so--provided he had no other choice. They had to winter +somewhere. They had set out to spend a few months in pleasant +idleness. They could well afford that. And, unless he had other plans +definitely formed, was not Granville as good as any place? Was it not +better, seeing that they did know some one there? It was big enough to +afford practically all the advantages of any city. + +"Oh, yes, I suppose so. All right; we'll winter here," Bill +acquiesced. "That's settled." + +And, as was his habit when he had come to a similar conclusion, he +refused to talk further on that subject, but fell to speculating idly +on New York. In which he was presently aided and abetted by Hazel, who +had never invaded Manhattan, nor, for that matter, any of the big +Atlantic cities. She had grown up in Granville, with but brief +journeys to near-by points. And Granville could scarcely be classed as +a metropolis. It numbered a trifle over three hundred thousand souls. +Bill had termed it "provincial." But it meant more to her than any +other place in the East, by virtue of old associations and more recent +acquaintance. One must have a pivotal point of such a sort, just as +one cannot forego the possession of a nationality. + +New York, she was constrained to admit, rather overwhelmed her. She +traversed Broadway and other world-known arteries, and felt a trifle +dubious amid the unceasing crush. Bill piloted her to famous cafés, +and to equally famous theaters. She made sundry purchases in +magnificent shops. The huge conglomeration of sights and sounds made +an unforgettable impression upon her. She sensed keenly the colossal +magnitude of it all. But she felt a distinct wave of relief when they +were Granville bound once more. + +In a week they were settled comfortably in a domicile of their +own--five rooms in an up-to-date apartment house. And since the social +demands on Mrs. William Wagstaff's time grew apace, a capable maid and +a cook were added to the Wagstaff establishment. Thus she was relieved +of the onus of housework. Her time was wholly her own, at her own +disposal or Bill's, as she elected. + +But by imperceptible degrees they came to take diverse roads in the +swirl of life which had caught them up. There were so many little +woman affairs where a man was superfluous. There were others which +Bill flatly refused to attend. "Hen parties," he dubbed them. More +and more he remained at home with his books. Invariably he read +through the daytime, and unless to take Hazel for a walk or a drive, or +some simple pleasure which they could indulge in by themselves, he +would not budge. If it were night, and a dance was to the fore, he +would dress and go gladly. At such, and upon certain occasions when a +certain little group would take supper at some café, he was apparently +in his element. But there was always a back fire if Hazel managed to +persuade him to attend anything in the nature of a formal affair. He +drew the line at what he defined as social tommyrot, and he drew it +more and more sharply. + +Sometimes Hazel caught herself wondering if they were getting as much +out of the holiday as they should have gotten, as they had planned to +get when they were struggling through that interminable winter. _She_ +was. But not Bill. And while she wished that he could get the same +satisfaction out of his surroundings and opportunities as she conceived +herself to be getting, she often grew impatient with his sardonic, +tolerant contempt toward the particular set she mostly consorted with. +If she ventured to give a tea, he fled the house as if from the plague. +He made acquaintances of his own, men from God only knew where, +individuals who occasionally filled the dainty apartment with +malodorous tobacco fumes, and who would cheerfully sit up all night +discoursing earnestly on any subject under the sun. But so long as +Bill found Granville habitable she did not mind. + +Above all, as the winter and the winter gayety set in together with +equal vigor, she thought with greater reluctance of the ultimate return +to that hushed, deep-forested area that surrounded the cabin. + +She wished fervently that Bill would take up some business that would +keep him in touch with civilization. He had the capital, she +considered, and there was no question of his ability. Her faith in his +power to encompass whatever he set about was strong. Other men, less +gifted, had acquired wealth, power, even a measure of fame, from a less +auspicious beginning. Why not he? + +It seemed absurd to bury one's self in an uninhabited waste, when life +held forth so much to be grasped. Her friends told her so--thus +confirming her own judgment. But she could never quite bring herself +to put it in so many words to Bill. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +A BUSINESS PROPOSITION + +The cycle of weeks brought them to January. They had dropped into +something of a routine in their daily lives. Bill's interest and +participation in social affairs became negligible. Of Hazel's circle +he classed some half dozen people as desirable acquaintances, and saw +more or less of them--Kitty Brooks and her husband; Vesta Lorimer, a +keen-witted young woman upon whom nature had bestowed a double portion +of physical attractiveness and a talent akin to genius for the painting +of miniatures; her Brother Paul, who was the silent partner in a +brokerage firm; Doctor Hart, a silent, grim-visaged physician, whose +vivacious wife was one of Hazel's new intimates. Of that group Bill +was always a willing member. The others he met courteously when he was +compelled to meet them; otherwise he passed them up entirely. + +When he was not absorbed in a book or magazine, he spent his time in +some downtown haunt, having acquired membership in a club as a +concession to their manner of life. Once he came home with flushed +face and overbright eyes, radiating an odor of whisky. Hazel had never +seen him drink to excess. She was correspondingly shocked, and took no +pains to hide her feelings. But Bill was blandly undisturbed. + +"You don't need to look so horrified," he drawled. "I won't beat you +up nor wreck the furniture. Inadvertently took a few too many, that's +all. Nothing else to do, anyhow. Your friend Brooks' Carlton Club is +as barren a place as one of your tea fights. They don't do anything +much but sit around and drink Scotch and soda, and talk about the +market. I'm drunk, and glad of it. If I were in Cariboo Meadows, +now," he confided owlishly, "I'd have some fun with the natives. You +can't turn yourself loose here. It's too blame civilized and proper. +I had half a notion to lick a Johnnie or two, just for sport, and then +I thought probably they'd have me up for assault and battery. Just +recollected our social reputation--long may she wave--in time." + +"_Your_ reputation certainly won't be unblemished if any one saw you +come in in that condition," she cried, in angry mortification. "Surely +you could find something better to do than to get drunk." + +"I'm going straight to bed, little person," he returned. "Scold not, +nor fret. William will be himself again ere yet the morrow's sun shall +clear the horizon. Let us avoid recrimination. The tongue is, or +would seem to be, the most vital weapon of modern society. Therefore +let us leave the trenchant blade quiescent in its scabbard. _I'd_ +rather settle a dispute with my fists, or even a gun. Good night." + +He made his unsteady way to their extra bedroom, and he was still there +with the door locked when Hazel returned from a card party at the +Krones'. It was the first night they had spent apart since their +marriage, and Hazel was inclined to be huffed when he looked in before +breakfast, dressed, shaved, and smiling, as if he had never had even a +bowing acquaintance with John Barleycorn. But Bill refused to take her +indignation seriously, and it died for lack of fuel. + +A week or so later he became suddenly and unexpectedly active. He left +the house as soon as his breakfast was eaten, and he did not come home +to luncheon--a circumstance which irritated Hazel, since it was one of +those rare days when she herself lunched at home. Late in the +afternoon he telephoned briefly that he would dine downtown. And when +he did return, at nine or thereabouts in the evening, he clamped a +cigar between his teeth, and fell to work covering a sheet of paper +with interminable rows of figures. + +Hazel had worried over the possibility of his having had another tilt +with the Scotch and sodas. He relieved her of that fear, and she +restrained her curiosity until boredom seized her. The silence and the +scratching of his pen began to grate on her nerves. + +"What is all the clerical work about?" she inquired. "Reckoning your +assets and liabilities?" + +Bill smiled and pushed aside the paper. + +"I'm going to promote a mining company," he told her, quite casually. +"It has been put up to me as a business proposition--and I've got to +the stage where I have to do _something_, or I'll sure have the +Willies." + +She overlooked the latter statement; it conveyed no special +significance at the time. But his first statement opened up +possibilities such as of late she had sincerely hoped would come to +pass, and she was all interest. + +"Promote a mining company?" she repeated. "That sounds extremely +businesslike. How--when--where?" + +"Now--here in Granville," he replied. "The how is largely Paul +Lorimer's idea. You see," he continued, warming up a bit to the +subject, "when I was prospecting that creek where we made the clean-up +last summer, I ran across a well-defined quartz lead. I packed out a +few samples in my pockets, and I happened to show them as well as one +or two of the nuggets to some of these fellows at the club a while +back. Lorimer took a piece of the quartz and had it assayed. It looms +up as something pretty big. So he and Brooks and a couple of other +fellows want me to go ahead and organize and locate a group of claims +in there. Twenty or thirty thousand dollars capital might make 'em all +rich. Of course, the placer end of it will be the big thing while the +lode is being developed. It should pay well from the start. Getting +the start is easy. As a matter of fact, you could sell any old wildcat +that has the magic of gold about it. Men seem to get the fever as soon +as they finger the real yellow stuff. These fellows I've talked to are +dead anxious to get in." + +"But"--her knowledge of business methods suggested a difficulty--"you +can't sell stock in a business that has no real foundation--yet. Don't +you have to locate those claims first?" + +"Wise old head; you have the idea, all right." He smiled. "But this +is not a stock-jobbing proposition. I wouldn't be in on it if it were, +believe me. It's to be a corporation, where not to exceed six men will +own all the stock that's issued. And so far as the claims are +concerned, I've got Whitey Lewis located in Fort George, and I've been +burning the wires and spending a bundle of real money getting him +grub-staked. He has got four men besides himself all ready to hit the +trail as soon as I give the word." + +"You won't have to go?" she put in quickly. + +"No," he murmured. "It isn't necessary, at this particular stage of +the game. But I wouldn't mind popping a whip over a good string of +dogs, just the same." + +"B-r-r-r!" she shivered involuntarily. "Four hundred miles across that +deep snow, through that steady, flesh-searing cold. I don't envy them +the journey." + +Bill relapsed into unsmiling silence, sprawling listless in his chair, +staring absently at the rug, as if he had lost all interest in the +matter. + +"If you stay here and manage this end of it," she pursued lightly, "I +suppose you'll have an office downtown." + +"I suppose so," he returned laconically. + +She came over and stood by him, playfully rumpling his brown hair with +her fingers. + +"I'm glad you've found something to loose that pent-up energy of yours +on, Billy-boy," she said. "You'll make a success of it, I know. I +don't see why you shouldn't make a success of any kind of business. +But I didn't think you'd ever tackle business. You have such peculiar +views about business and business practice." + +"I despise the ordinary business ethic," he returned sharply. "It's a +get-something-for-nothing proposition all the way through; it is based +on exploiting the other fellow in one form or another. I refuse to +exploit my fellows along the accepted lines--or any lines. I don't +have to; there are too many other ways of making a living open to me. +I don't care to live fat and make some one else foot the bill. But I +can exploit the resources of nature. And that is my plan. If we make +money it won't be filched by a complex process from the other fellow's +pockets; it won't be wealth created by shearing lambs in the market, by +sweatshop labor, or adulterated food, or exorbitant rental of filthy +tenements. And I have no illusions about the men I'm dealing with. If +they undertake to make a get-rich-quick scheme of it I'll knock the +whole business in the head. I'm not overly anxious to get into it with +them. But it promises action of some sort--and I have to do something +till spring." + +In the spring! That brief phrase set Hazel to sober thinking. With +April or May Bill would spread his wings for the North. There would be +no more staying him than the flight of the wild goose to the reedy +nesting grounds could be stayed. Well, a summer in the North would not +be so bad, she reflected. But she hated to think of the isolation. It +grieved her to contemplate exchanging her beautifully furnished +apartment for a log cabin in the woods. There would be a dreary +relapse into monotony after months of association with clever people, +the swift succession of brilliant little functions. It all delighted +her; she responded to her present surroundings as naturally as a grain +of wheat responds to the germinating influences of warmth and moisture. +It did not occur to her that saving Bill Wagstaff's advent into her +life she might have been denied all this. Indeed she felt a trifle +resentful that he should prefer the forested solitudes to the pleasant +social byways of Granville. + +Still she had hopes. If he plunged into business associations with +Jimmie Brooks and Paul Lorimer and others of that group, there was no +telling what might happen. His interests might become permanently +identified with Granville. She loved her big, wide-shouldered man, +anyway. So she continued to playfully rumple his hair and kept her +thoughts to herself. + +Bill informed her from time to time as to the progress of his venture. +Brooks and Lorimer put him in touch with two others who were ready to +chance money on the strength of Bill's statements. The company was +duly incorporated, with an authorized capital of one hundred thousand +dollars, five thousand dollars' worth of stock being taken out by each +on a cash basis--the remaining seventy-five thousand lying in the +company treasury, to be held or sold for development purposes as the +five saw fit when work began to show what the claims were capable of +producing. + +Whitey Lewis set out. Bill stuck a map on their living-room wall and +pointed off each day's journey with a pin. Hazel sometimes studied the +map, and pitied them. So many miles daily in a dreary waste of snow; +nights when the frost thrust its keen-pointed lances into their tired +bodies; food cooked with numbed fingers; the dismal howling of wolves; +white frost and clinging icicles upon their beards as they trudged +across trackless areas; and over all that awesome hush which she had +learned to dread--breathless, brooding silence. Gold madness or trail +madness, or simply adventurous unrest? She could not say. She knew +only that a certain type of man found pleasure in such mad +undertakings, bucked hard trails and plunged headlong into vast +solitudes, and permitted no hardship nor danger to turn him back. + +Bill was tinged with that madness for unbeaten trails. But surely when +a man mated, and had a home and all that makes home desirable, he +should forsake the old ways? Once when she found him studying the map, +traversing a route with his forefinger and muttering to himself, she +had a quick catch at her heart--as if hers were already poised to go. +And she could not follow him. Once she had thought to do that, and +gloried in the prospect. But his trail, his wilderness trail, and his +trail gait, were not for any woman to follow. It was too big a job for +any woman. And she could not let him go alone. He might never come +back. + +Not so long since she and Kitty Brooks had been discussing a certain +couple who had separated. Vesta Lorimer sat by, listening. + +"How could they help but fail in mutual flight?" the Lorimer girl had +demanded. "An eagle mated to a domestic fowl!" + +And, watching Bill stare at the map, his body there but the soul of him +tramping the wild woods, she recalled Vesta Lorimer's characterization +of that other pair. Surely this man of hers was of the eagle brood. +But there, in her mind, the simile ended. + +In early March came a telegram from Whitey Lewis saying that he had +staked the claims, both placer and lode; that he was bound out by the +Telegraph Trail to file at Hazleton. Bill showed her the +message--wired from Station Six. + +"I wish I could have been in on it--that was some trip," he said--and +there was a trace of discontent in his tone. "I don't fancy somebody +else pawing my chestnuts out of the coals for me. It was sure a man's +job to cross the Klappan in the dead of winter." + +The filing completed, there was ample work in the way of getting out +and whipsawing timber to keep the five men busy till spring--the five +who were on the ground. Lewis sent word that thirty feet of snow lay +in the gold-bearing branch. And that was the last they heard from him. +He was a performer, Bill said, not a correspondent. + +So in Granville the affairs of the Free Gold Mining Company remained at +a standstill until the spring floods should peel off the winter blanket +of the North. Hazel was fully occupied, and Bill dwelt largely with +his books, or sketched and figured on operations at the claims. Their +domestic affairs moved with the smoothness of a perfectly balanced +machine. To the very uttermost Hazel enjoyed the well-appointed +orderliness of it all, the unruffled placidity of an existence where +the unexpected, the disagreeable, the uncouth, was wholly eliminated, +where all the strange shifts and struggles of her two years beyond the +Rockies were altogether absent and impossible. Bill's views he kept +largely to himself. And Hazel began to nurse the idea that he was +looking upon civilization with a kindlier eye. + +Ultimately, spring overspread the eastern provinces. And when the +snows of winter successively gave way to muddy streets and then to +clean pavements in the city of Granville, a new gilt sign was lettered +across the windows of the brokerage office in which Paul Lorimer was +housed. + + + FREE GOLD MINING COMPANY + + P. H. Lorimer, Pres. J. L. Brooks, Sec.-Treas. + + William Wagstaff, Manager. + + +So it ran. Bill was commissioned in the army of business at last. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +A BUSINESS JOURNEY + +"I have to go to the Klappan," Bill apprised his wife one evening. +"Want to come along?" + +Hazel hesitated. Her first instinctive feeling was one of reluctance +to retrace that nerve-trying trail. But neither did she wish to be +separated from him. + +"I see you don't," he observed dryly. "Well, I can't say that I blame +you. It's a stiff trip. If your wind and muscle are in as poor shape +as mine, I guess it would do you up--the effort would be greater than +any possible pleasure." + +"I'm sorry I can't feel any enthusiasm for such a journey," she +remarked candidly. "I could go as far as the coast with you, and meet +you there when you come out. How long do you expect to be in there?" + +"I don't know exactly," he replied. "I'm not going in from the coast, +though. I'm taking the Ashcroft-Fort George Trail. I have to take in +a pack train and more men and get work started on a decent scale." + +"But you won't have to stay there all summer and oversee the work, will +you?" she inquired anxiously. + +"I should," he said. + +For a second or two he drummed on the table top. + +"I should do that. It's what I had in mind when I started this thing," +he said wistfully. "I thought we'd go in this spring and rush things +through the good weather, and come out ahead of the snow. We could +stay a while at the ranch, and break up the winter with a jaunt here or +some place." + +"But is there any real necessity for you to stay on the ground?" She +pursued her own line of thought. "I should think an undertaking of +this size would justify hiring an expert to take charge of the actual +mining operations. Won't you have this end of it to look after?" + +"Lorimer and Brooks are eminently capable of upholding the dignity and +importance of that sign they've got smeared across the windows +downtown," he observed curtly. "The chief labor of the office they've +set up will be to divide the proceeds. The work will be done and the +money made in the Klappan Range. You sabe that, don't you?" + +"I'm not stupid," she pouted. + +"I know you're not, little person," he said quietly. "But you've +changed a heap in the last few months. You don't seem to be my pal any +more. You've fallen in love with this butterfly life. You appear to +like me just as much as ever, but if you could you'd sentence me to +this kid-glove existence for the rest of my natural life. Great +Caesar's ghost!" he burst out. "I've laid around like a well-fed +poodle for seven months. And look at me--I'm mush! Ten miles with a +sixty-pound pack would make my tongue hang out. I'm thick-winded, and +twenty pounds over-weight--and you talk calmly about my settling down +to office work!" + +His semi-indignation, curiously enough, affected Hazel as being +altogether humorous. She had a smile-compelling vision of that +straight, lean-limbed, powerful body developing a protuberant waistline +and a double chin. That was really funny, so far-fetched did it seem. +And she laughed. Bill froze into rigid silence. + +"I'm going to-morrow," he said suddenly. "I think, on the whole, it'll +be just as well if you don't go. Stay here and enjoy yourself. I'll +transfer some more money to your account. I think I'll drop down to +the club." + +She followed him out into the hall, and, as he wriggled into his coat, +she had an impulse to throw her arms around his neck and declare, in +all sincerity, that she would go to the Klappan or to the north pole or +any place on earth with him, if he wanted her. But by some peculiar +feminine reasoning she reflected in the same instant that if Bill were +away from her in a few weeks he would be all the more glad to get back. +That closed her mouth. She felt too secure in his affection to believe +it could be otherwise. And then she would cheerfully capitulate and go +back with him to his beloved North, to the Klappan or the ranch or +wherever he chose. It was not wise to be too meek or obedient where a +husband was concerned. That was another mite of wisdom she had +garnered from the wives of her circle. + +So she kissed Bill good-by at the station next day with perfect good +humor and no parting emotion of any particular keenness. And if he +were a trifle sober he showed no sign of resentment, nor uttered any +futile wishes that she could accompany him. + +"So long," he said from the car steps. "I'll keep in touch--all I can." + +Then he was gone. + +Somehow, his absence made less difference than Hazel had anticipated. +She had secretly expected to be very lonely at first. And she was not. +She began to realize that, unconsciously, they had of late so arranged +their manner of life that separation was a question of degree rather +than kind. It seemed that she could never quite forego the impression +that Bill was near at hand. She always thought of him as downtown or +in the living-room, with his feet up on the mantel and a cigar in his +mouth. Even when in her hand she held a telegram dated at a point five +hundred or a thousand miles or double that distance away she did not +experience the feeling of complete bodily absence. She always felt as +if he were near. Only at night, when there was no long arm to pillow +her head, no good-night kiss as she dozed into slumber, she missed him, +realized that he was far away. Even when the days marched past, +mustering themselves in weekly and monthly platoons and Bill still +remained in the Klappan, she experienced no dreary leadenness of soul. +Her time passed pleasantly enough. + +Early in June came a brief wire from Station Six. Three weeks later +the Free Gold Mining Company set up a mild ripple of excitement along +Broad Street by exhibiting in their office window a forty-pound heap of +coarse gold; raw, yellow gold, just as it had come from the sluice. +Every day knots of men stood gazing at the treasure. The Granville +papers devoted sundry columns to this remarkably successful enterprise +of its local business men. Bill had forwarded the first clean-up. + +And close on the heels of this--ten days later, to be exact--he came +home. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE BOMB + +"You great bear," Hazel laughed, in the shelter of his encircling arms. +"My, it's good to see you again." + +She pushed herself back a little and surveyed him admiringly, with a +gratified sense of proprietorship. The cheeks of him were tanned to a +healthy brown, his eyes clear and shining. The offending flesh had +fallen away on the strenuous paths of the Klappan. He radiated +boundless vitality, strength, alertness, that perfect co-ordination of +mind and body that is bred of faring resourcefully along rude ways. +Few of his type trod the streets of Granville. It was a product solely +of the outer places. And for the time being the old, vivid emotion +surged strong within her. She thrilled at the touch of his hand, was +content to lay her head on his shoulder and forget everything in the +joy of his physical nearness. But the maid announced dinner, and her +man must be fed. He had missed luncheon on the train, he told her, by +reason of an absorbing game of whist. + +"Come, then," said she. "You must be starving." + +They elected to spend the evening quietly at home, as they used to do. +To Hazel it seemed quite like old times. Bill told her of the Klappan +country, and their prospects at the mine. + +"It's going to be a mighty big thing," he declared. + +"I'm so glad," said Hazel. + +"We've got a group of ten claims. Whitey Lewis and the original +stakers hold an interest in their claims. I, acting as agent for these +other fellows in the company, staked five more. I took in eight more +men--and, believe me, things were humming when I left. Lewis is a +great rustler. He had out lots of timber, and we put in a wing dam +three hundred feet long, so she can flood and be darned; they'll keep +the sluice working just the same. And that quartz lead will justify a +fifty-thousand-dollar mill. So I'm told by an expert I took in to look +it over. And, say, I went in by the ranch. Old Jake has a fine +garden. He's still pegging away with the mule 'und Gretchen, der cow.' +I offered him a chance to make a fat little stake at the mine, but he +didn't want to leave the ranch. Great old feller, Jake. Something of +a philosopher in his way. Pretty wise old head. He'll make good, all +right." + +In the morning, Bill ate his breakfast and started downtown. + +"That's the dickens of being a business man," he complained to Hazel, +in the hallway. "It rides a man, once it gets hold of him. I'd rather +get a machine and go joy riding with you than anything else. But I +have to go and make a long-winded report; and I suppose those fellows +will want to talk gold by the yard. Adios, little person. I'll get +out for lunch, business or no business." + +Eleven-thirty brought him home, preoccupied and frowning. And he +carried his frown and his preoccupation to the table. + +"Whatever is the matter, Bill?" Hazel anxiously inquired. + +"Oh, I've got a nasty hunch that there's a nigger in the woodpile," he +replied. + +"What woodpile?" she asked. + +"I'll tell you more about it to-night," he said bluntly. "I'm going to +pry something loose this afternoon or know the reason why." + +"Is something the matter about the mine?" she persisted. + +"No," he answered grimly. "There's nothing the matter with the mine. +It's the mining company." + +And that was all he vouchsafed. He finished his luncheon and left the +house. He was scarcely out of sight when Jimmie Brooks' runabout drew +up at the curb. A half minute later he was ushered into the +living-room. + +"Bill in?" was his first query. + +"No, he left just a few minutes ago," Hazel told him. + +Mr. Brooks, a short, heavy-set, neatly dressed gentleman, whose rather +weak blue eyes loomed preternaturally large and protuberant behind +pince-nez that straddled an insignificant snub nose, took off his +glasses and twiddled them in his white, well-kept fingers. + +"Ah, too bad!" he murmured. "Thought I'd catch him. + +"By the way," he continued, after a pause, "you--ah--well, frankly, I +have reason to believe that you have a good deal of influence with your +husband in business matters, Mrs. Wagstaff. Kitty says so, and she +don't make mistakes very often in sizing up a situation." + +"Well, I don't know; perhaps I have." Hazel smiled noncommittally. +She wondered what had led Kitty Brooks to that conclusion. "Why?" + +"Well--ah--you see," he began rather lamely. "The fact is--I hope +you'll regard this as strictly confidential, Mrs. Wagstaff. I wouldn't +want Bill to think I, or any of us, was trying to bring pressure on +him. But the fact is, Bill's got a mistaken impression about the way +we're conducting the financial end of this mining proposition. You +understand? Very able man, your husband, but headstrong as the deuce. +I'm afraid--to speak frankly--he'll create a lot of unpleasantness. +Might disrupt the company, in fact, if he sticks to the position he +took this morning. Thought I'd run in and talk it over with him. +Fellow's generally in a good humor, you know, when he's lunched +comfortably at home." + +"I'm quite in the dark," Hazel confessed. "Bill seemed a trifle put +out about something. He didn't say what it was about." + +"Shall I explain?" Mr. Brooks suggested. "You'd understand--and you +might be able to help. I don't as a rule believe in bringing business +into the home, but this bothers me. I hate to see a good thing go +wrong." + +"Explain, by all means," Hazel promptly replied. "If I can help, I'll +be glad to." + +"Thank you." Mr. Brooks polished his glasses industriously for a +second and replaced them with painstaking exactitude. "Now--ah--this +is the situation: When the company was formed, five of us, including +your husband, took up enough stock to finance the preliminary work of +the undertaking. The remaining stock, seventy-five thousand dollars in +amount, was left in the treasury, to be held or put on the market as +the situation warranted. Bill was quite conservative in his first +statements concerning the property, and we all felt inclined to go +slow. But when Bill got out there on the ground and the thing began to +pay enormously right from the beginning, we--that is, the four of us +here, decided we ought to enlarge our scope. With the first clean-up, +Bill forwarded facts and figures to show that we had a property far +beyond our greatest expectations. And, of course, we saw at once that +the thing was ridiculously undercapitalized. By putting the balance of +the stock on the market, we could secure funds to work on a much larger +scale. Why, this first shipment of gold is equal to an annual dividend +of ten per cent on four hundred thousand dollars capital. It's +immense, for six weeks' work. + +"So we held a meeting and authorized the secretary to sell stock. +Naturally, your husband wasn't cognizant of this move, for the simple +reason that there was no way of reaching him--and his interests were +thoroughly protected, anyway. The stock was listed on Change. A good +bit was disposed of privately. We now have a large fund in the +treasury. It's a cinch. We've got the property, and it's rich enough +to pay dividends on a million. The decision of the stockholders is +unanimously for enlargement of the capital stock. The quicker we get +that property to its maximum output the more we make, you see. There's +a fine vein of quartz to develop, expensive machinery to install. It's +no more than fair that these outsiders who are clamoring to get aboard +should pay their share of the expense of organization and promotion. +You understand? You follow me?" + +"Certainly," Hazel answered. "But what is the difficulty with Bill?" + +Mr. Brooks once more had recourse to polishing his pince-nez. + +"Bill is opposed to the whole plan," he said, pursing up his lips with +evident disapproval of Bill Wagstaff and all his works. "He seems to +feel that we should not have taken this step. He declares that no more +stock must be sold; that there must be no enlargement of capital. In +fact, that we must peg along in the little one-horse way we started. +And that would be a shame. We could make the Free Gold Mining Company +the biggest thing on the map, and put ourselves all on Easy Street." + +He spread his hands in a gesture of real regret. + +"Bill's a fine fellow," he said, "and one of my best friends. But he's +a hard man to do business with. He takes a very peculiar view of the +matter. I'm afraid he'll queer the company if he stirs up trouble over +this. That's why I hope you'll use whatever influence you have, to +induce him to withdraw his opposition." + +"But," Hazel murmured, in some perplexity, "from what little I know of +corporations, I don't see how he can set up any difficulty. If a +majority of the stock-holders decide to do anything, that settles it, +doesn't it? Bill is a minority of one, from what you say. And I don't +see what difference his objections make, anyway. How can he stop you +from taking any line of action whatever?" + +"Oh, not that at all," Brooks hastily assured. "Of course, we can +outvote him, and put it through. But we want him with us, don't you +see? We've a high opinion of his ability. He's the sort of man who +gets results; practical, you know; knows mining to a T. Only he shies +at our financial method. And if he began any foolish litigation, or +silly rumors got started about trouble among the company officers, it's +bound to hurt the stock. It's all right, I assure you. We're not +foisting a wildcat on the market. We've got the goods. Bill admits +that. It's the regular method, not only legitimate, but good finance. +Every dollar's worth of stock sold has the value behind it. +Distributes the risk a little more, that's all, and gives the company a +fund to operate successfully. + +"If Bill mentions it, you might suggest that he look into the matter a +little more fully before he takes any definite action," Brooks +concluded, rising. "I must get down to the office. It's his own +interests I'm thinking of, as much as my own. Of course, he couldn't +block a reorganization--but we want to satisfy him in every particular, +and, at the same time, carry out these plans. It's a big thing for all +of us. A big thing, I assure you." + +He rolled away in his car, and Hazel watched him from the window, a +trifle puzzled. She recalled Bill's remark at luncheon. In the light +of Brooks' explanation, she could see nothing wrong. On the other +hand, she knew Bill Wagstaff was not prone to jump at rash conclusions. +It was largely his habit to give others the benefit of the doubt. If +he objected to certain manipulations of the Free Gold Mining Company, +his objection was likely to be based on substantial grounds. But then, +as Brooks had observed, or, rather, inferred, Bill was not exactly an +expert on finance, and this new deal savored of pure finance--a term +which she had heard Bill scoff at more than once. At any rate, she +hoped nothing disagreeable would come of it. + +So she put the whole matter out of her mind. She had an engagement +with a dressmaker, and an invitation to afternoon tea following on +that. She dressed, and went whole-heartedly about her own affairs. + +Dinner time was drawing close when she returned home. She sat down by +a window that overlooked the street to watch for Bill. As a general +thing he was promptness personified, and since he was but twenty-four +hours returned from a three months' absence, she felt that he would not +linger--and Granville's business normally ceased at five o'clock. + +Six passed. The half-hour chime struck on the mantel clock. Hazel +grew impatient, petulant, aggrieved. Dinner would be served in twenty +minutes. Still there was no sign of him. And for lack of other +occupation she went into the hall and got the evening paper, which the +carrier had just delivered. + +A staring headline on the front page stiffened her to scandalized +attention. Straight across the tops of two columns it ran, a facetious +caption: + +WILLIAM WAGSTAFF IS A BEAR + + +Under that the subhead: + +Husky Mining Man Tumbles Prices and Brokers. Whips Four men in Broad +Street Office. Slugs Another on Change. His Mighty Fists Subdue +Society's Finest. Finally Lands in Jail. + + +The body of the article Hazel read in what a sob sister would describe +as a state of mingled emotions. + + +William Wagstaff is a mining gentleman from the northern wilds of +British Columbia. He is a big man, a natural-born fighter. To prove +this he inflicted a black eye and a split lip on Paul Lorimer, a broken +nose and sundry bruises on James L. Brooks. Also Allen T. Bray and +Edward Gurney Parkinson suffered certain contusions in the mêlèe. The +fracas occurred in the office of the Free Gold Mining Company, 1546 +Broad Street, at three-thirty this afternoon. While hammering the +brokers a police officer arrived on the scene and Wagstaff was duly +escorted to the city bastile. Prior to the general encounter in the +Broad Street office Wagstaff walked into the Stock Exchange, and made +statements about the Free Gold Mining Company which set all the brokers +by the ears. Lorimer was on the floor, and received his discolored +optic there. + +Lorimer is a partner in the brokerage firm of Bray, Parkinson & Co., +and is president of the Free Gold Mining Company. Brooks is manager of +the Acme Advertisers, and secretary of Free Gold. Bray and Parkinson +are stockholders, and Wagstaff is a stockholder and also manager of the +Free Gold properties in B. C. All are well known about town. + +A reporter was present when Wagstaff walked on the floor of the Stock +Exchange. He strode up to the post where Lorimer was transacting +business. + +"I serve notice on you right now," he said loudly and angrily, "that if +you sell another dollar's worth of Free Gold stock, I'll put you out of +business." + +Lorimer appeared to lose his temper. Some word was passed which +further incensed Wagstaff. He smote the broker and the broker smote +the floor. Wagstaff's punch would do credit to a champion pugilist, +from the execution it wrought. He immediately left the Stock Exchange, +and not long afterward Broad Street was electrified by sounds of combat +in the Free Gold office. It is conceded that Wagstaff had the +situation and his three opponents well in hand when the cop arrived. + +None of the men concerned would discuss the matter. From the remarks +dropped by Wagstaff, however, it appears that the policy of marketing +Free Gold stock was inaugurated without his knowledge or consent. + +Be that as it may, all sorts of rumors are in circulation, and Free +Gold stock, which has been sold during the past week as high as a +dollar forty, found few takers at par when Change closed. There has +been a considerable speculative movement in the stock, and the +speculators are beginning to wonder if there is a screw loose in the +company affairs. + +Wagstaff's case will come up to-morrow forenoon. A charge of +disturbing the peace was placed against him. He gave a cash bond and +was at once released. When the hearing comes some of the parties to +the affair may perchance divulge what lay at the bottom of the row. + +Any fine within the power of the court to impose is a mere bagatelle, +compared to the distinction of scientifically man-handling four of +society's finest in one afternoon. As one bystander remarked in the +classic phraseology of the street: + +"Wagstaff's a bear!" + +The brokers concerned might consider this to have a double meaning. + + +Hazel dropped the paper, mortified and wrathful. The city jail seemed +the very Pit itself to her. And the lurid publicity, the lifted +eyebrows of her friends, maddened her in prospect. Plain street +brawling, such as one might expect from a cabman or a taxi mahout, not +from a man like her husband. She involuntarily assigned the blame to +him. Not for the cause--the cause was of no importance whatever to +her--but for the act itself. Their best friends! She could hardly +realize it. Jimmie Brooks, jovial Jimmie, with a broken nose and +sundry bruises! And Paul Lorimer, distinguished Paul, who had the +courtly bearing which was the despair of his fellows, and the manner of +a dozen generations of culture wherewith to charm the women of his +acquaintance. He with a black eye and a split lip! So the paper +stated. It was vulgar. Brutal! The act of a cave man. + +She was on the verge of tears. + +And just at that moment the door opened, and in walked Bill. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE NOTE DISCORDANT + +Bill had divested himself of the scowl. He smiled as a man who has +solved some knotty problem to his entire satisfaction. Moreover, he +bore no mark of conflict, none of the conventional scars of a +rough-and-tumble fight. His clothing was in perfect order, his tie and +collar properly arranged, as a gentleman's tie and collar should be. +For a moment Hazel found herself believing the _Herald_ story a pure +canard. But as he walked across the room her searching gaze discovered +that the knuckles of both his hands were bruised and bloody, the skin +broken. She picked up the paper. + +"Is this true?" she asked tremulously, pointing to the offending +headlines. + +Bill frowned. + +"Substantially correct," he answered coolly. + +"Bill, how could you?" she cried. "It's simply disgraceful. Brawling +in public like any saloon loafer, and getting in jail and all. Haven't +you any consideration for me--any pride?" + +His eyes narrowed with an angry glint. + +"Yes," he said deliberately. "I have. Pride in my word as a man. A +sort of pride that won't allow any bunch of lily-fingered crooks to +make me a party to any dirty deal. I don't propose to get the worst of +it in that way. I won't allow myself to be tarred with their stick." + +"But they're not trying to give you the worst of it," she burst out. +Visions of utter humiliation arose to confront and madden her. "You've +insulted and abused our best friends--to say nothing of giving us all +the benefit of newspaper scandal. We'll be notorious!" + +"Best friends? God save the mark!" he snorted contemptuously. "Our +best friends, as you please to call them, are crooks, thieves, and +liars. They're rotten. They stink with their moral rottenness. And +they have the gall to call it good business." + +"Just because their business methods don't agree with your peculiar +ideas is no reason why you should call names," she flared. "Mr. Brooks +called just after you left at noon. _He_ told me something about this, +and assured me that you would find yourself mistaken if you'd only take +pains to think it over. I don't believe such men as they are would +stoop to anything crooked. Even if the opportunity offered, they have +too much at stake in this community. They couldn't afford to be +crooked." + +"So Brooks came around to talk it over with you, eh?" Bill sneered. +"Told you it was all on the square, did he? Explained it all very +plausibly, I suppose. Probably suggested that you try smoothing me +down, too. It would be like 'em." + +"He did explain about this stock-selling business," Hazel replied +defensively. "And I can't see why you find it necessary to make a +fuss. I don't see where the cheating and crookedness comes in. +Everybody who buys stock gets their money's worth, don't they? But I +don't care anything about your old mining deal. It's this fighting and +quarreling with people who are not used to that sort of brute +action--and the horrid things they'll say and think about us." + +"About you, you mean--as the wife of such a boor--that's what's rubbing +you raw," Bill flung out passionately. "You're acquiring the class +psychology good and fast. Did you ever think of anybody but yourself? +Have I ever betrayed symptoms of idiocy? Do you think it natural or +even likely for me to raise the devil in a business affair like this +out of sheer malice? Don't I generally have a logical basis for any +position I take? Yet you don't wait or ask for any explanation from +_me_. You stand instinctively with the crowd that has swept you off +your feet in the last six months. You take another man's word that +it's all right and I'm all wrong, without waiting to hear my side of +it. And the petty-larceny incident of my knocking down two or three +men and being under arrest as much as thirty minutes looms up before +you as the utter depths of disgrace. Disgrace to you! It's all +you--you! How do you suppose it strikes me to have my wife take sides +against me on snap judgment like that? It shows a heap of faith and +trust and loyalty, doesn't it? Oh, it makes me real proud and glad of +my mate. It does. By thunder, if Granville had ever treated me as it +tried to treat you one time, according to your own account, I'd wipe my +feet on them at every opportunity." + +"If you'd explain," Hazel began hesitatingly. She was thoroughly +startled at the smoldering wrath that flared out in this speech of his. +She bitterly resented being talked to in that fashion. It was unjust. +Particularly that last fling. And she was not taking sides. She +refused to admit that--even though she had a disturbing consciousness +that her attitude could scarcely be construed otherwise. + +"I'll explain nothing," Bill flashed stormily. "Not at this stage of +the game. I'm through explaining. I'm going to act. I refuse to be +raked over the coals like a naughty child, and then asked to tell why I +did it. I'm right, and when I know I'm right I'll go the limit. I'm +going to take the kinks out of this Free Gold deal inside of +forty-eight hours. Then I'm through with Granville. Hereafter I +intend to fight shy of a breed of dogs who lose every sense of square +dealing when there is a bunch of money in sight. I shall be ready to +leave here within a week. And I want you to be ready, too." + +"I won't," she cried, on the verge of hysterics. "I won't go back to +that cursed silence and loneliness. You made this trouble here, not I. +I won't go back to Pine River, or the Klappan. I won't, I tell you!" + +Bill stared at her moodily for a second. + +"Just as you please," he said quietly. + +He walked into the spare bedroom. Hazel heard the door close gently +behind him, heard the soft click of a well-oiled lock. Then she +slumped, gasping, in the wide-armed chair by the window, and the hot +tears came in a blinding flood. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE AFTERMATH + +They exchanged only bare civilities at the breakfast table, and Bill at +once went downtown. When he was gone, Hazel fidgeted uneasily about +the rooms. She had only a vague idea of legal processes, having never +seen the inside of a courtroom. She wondered what penalty would be +inflicted on Bill, whether he would be fined or sent to prison. Surely +it was a dreadful thing to batter men like Brooks and Lorimer and +Parkinson. They might even make it appear that Bill had tried to +murder them. Her imagination magnified and distorted the incident out +of all proportion. + +And brooding over these things, she decided to go and talk it over with +Kitty Brooks. Kitty would not blame her for these horrid man troubles. + +But she was mistaken there. Kitty was all up in arms. She was doubly +injured. Her husband had suffered insult and brutal injury. Moreover, +he was threatened with financial loss. Perhaps that threatened wound +in the pocketbook loomed larger than the physical hurt. At any rate, +she vented some of her spleen on Hazel. + +"Your husband started this mining thing," she declared heatedly. +"Jimmie says that if he persists in trying to turn things upside down +it will mean a loss of thousands. And we haven't any money to +lose--I'm sure Jimmie has worked hard for what he's got. I'm simply +sick over it. It's bad enough to have one's husband brought home +looking as if he'd been slugged by footpads, and to have the papers go +on about it so. But to have a big loss inflicted on us just when we +were really beginning to get ahead, is too much. I wish you'd never +introduced your miner to us." + +That speech, of course, obliterated friendship on the spot, as far as +Hazel was concerned. Even though she was quite prepared to have Bill +blamed for the trouble, did in fact so blame him herself, she could not +stomach Kitty's language nor attitude. But the humiliation of the +interview she chalked up against Bill. She went home with a red spot +glowing on either cheekbone. A rather incoherent telephone +conversation with Mrs. Allen T. Bray, in which that worthy matron +declared her husband prostrated from his injuries, and in the same +breath intimated that Mr. Wagstaff would be compelled to make ample +reparation for his ruffianly act, did not tend to soothe her. + +Bill failed to appear at luncheon. During the afternoon an uncommon +number other acquaintances dropped in. In the tactful manner of their +kind they buzzed with the one absorbing topic. Some were vastly +amused. Some were sympathetic. One and all they were consumed with +curiosity for detailed inside information on the Free Gold squabble. +One note rang consistently in their gossipy song: The Free Gold Company +was going to lose a pot of money in some manner, as a consequence of +the affair. Mr. Wagstaff had put some surprising sort of spoke in the +company's wheel. They had that from their husbands who trafficked on +Broad Street. By what power he had accomplished this remained a +mystery to the ladies. Singly and collectively they drove Hazel to the +verge of distraction. When the house was at last clear of them she +could have wept. Through no fault of her own she had given Granville +another choice morsel to roll under its gossipy tongue. + +So that when six o'clock brought Bill home, she was coldly disapproving +of him and his affairs in their entirety, and at no pains to hide her +feelings. He followed her into the living-room when the uncomfortable +meal--uncomfortable by reason of the surcharged atmosphere--was at an +end. + +"Let's get down to bed rock, Hazel," he said gently. "Doesn't it seem +rather foolish to let a bundle of outside troubles set up so much +friction between us two? I don't want to stir anything up; I don't +want to quarrel. But I can't stand this coldness and reproach from +you. It's unjust, for one thing. And it's so unwise--if we value our +happiness as a thing worth making some effort to save." + +"I don't care to discuss it at all," she flared up. "I've heard +nothing else all day but this miserable mining business and your +ruffianly method of settling a dispute. I'd rather not talk about it." + +"But we must talk about it," he persisted patiently. "I've got to show +you how the thing stands, so that you can see for yourself where your +misunderstanding comes in. You can't get to the bottom of anything +without more or less talk." + +"Talk to yourself, then," she retorted ungraciously. And with that she +ran out of the room. + +But she had forgotten or underestimated the catlike quickness of her +man. He caught her in the doorway, and the grip of his fingers on her +arm brought a cry of pain. + +"Forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt," he said contritely. "Be a good +girl, Hazel, and let's get our feet on earth again. Sit down and put +your arm around my neck and be my pal, like you used to be. We've got +no business nursing these hard feelings. It's folly. I haven't +committed any crime. I've only stood for a square deal. Come on; bury +the hatchet, little person." + +"Let me go," she sobbed, struggling to be free. "I h-hate you!" + +"Please, little person. I can't eat humble pie more than once or +twice." + +"Let me go," she panted. "I don't want you to touch me." + +"Listen to me," he said sternly. "I've stood about all of your +nonsense I'm able to stand. I've had to fight a pack of business +wolves to keep them from picking my carcass, and, what's more important +to me, to keep them from handing a raw deal to five men who wallowed +through snow and frost and all kinds of hardship to make these sharks a +fortune. I've got down to their level and fought them with their own +weapons--and the thing is settled. I said last night I'd be through +here inside a week. I'm through now--through here. I have business in +the Klappan; to complete this thing I've set my hand to. Then I'm +going to the ranch and try to get the bad taste out of my mouth. I'm +going to-morrow. I've no desire or intention to coerce you. You're my +wife, and your place is with me, if you care anything about me. And I +want you. You know that, don't you? I wouldn't be begging you like +this if I didn't. I haven't changed, nor had my eyes dazzled by any +false gods. But it's up to you. I don't bluff. I'm going, and if I +have to go without you I won't come back. Think it over, and just ask +yourself honestly if it's worth while." + +He drew her up close to him and kissed her on one anger-flushed cheek, +and then, as he had done the night before, walked straight away to the +bedroom and closed the door behind him. + +Hazel slept little that night. A horrid weight seemed to rest +suffocatingly upon her. More than once she had an impulse to creep in +there where Bill lay and forget it all in the sweep of that strong arm. +But she choked back the impulse angrily. She would not forgive him. +He had made her suffer. For his high-handedness she would make him +suffer in kind. At least, she would not crawl to him begging +forgiveness. + +When sunrise laid a yellow beam, all full of dancing motes, across her +bed, she heard Bill stir, heard him moving about the apartment with +restless steps. After a time she also heard the unmistakable sound of +a trunk lid thrown back, and the movements of him as he gathered his +clothes--so she surmised. But she did not rise till the maid rapped on +her door with the eight-o'clock salutation: + +"Breakfast, ma'am." + +They made a pretense of eating. Hazel sought a chair in the +living-room. A book lay open in her lap. But the print ran into +blurred lines. She could not follow the sense of the words. An +incessant turmoil of thought harassed her. Bill passed through the +room once or twice. Determinedly she ignored him. The final snap of +the lock on his trunk came to her at last, the bumping sounds of its +passage to the hall. Then a burly expressman shouldered it into his +wagon and drove away. + +A few minutes after that Bill came in and took a seat facing her. + +"What are you going to do, Hazel?" he asked soberly. + +"Nothing," she curtly replied. + +"Are you going to sit down and fold your hands and let our air castles +come tumbling about our ears, without making the least effort to +prevent?" he continued gently. "Seems to me that's not like you at +all. I never thought you were a quitter." + +"I'm not a quitter," she flung back resentfully. "I refuse to be +browbeaten, that's all. There appears to be only one choice--to follow +you like a lamb. And I'm not lamblike. I'd say that you are the +quitter. You have stirred up all this trouble here between us. Now +you're running away from it. That's how it looks to me. Go on! I can +get along." + +"I dare say you can," he commented wearily. "Most of us can muddle +along somehow, no matter what happens. But it seems a pity, little +person. We had all the chance in the world. You've developed an +abnormal streak lately. If you'd just break away and come back with +me. You don't know what good medicine those old woods are. Won't you +try it a while?" + +"I am not by nature fitted to lead the hermit existence," she returned +sarcastically. + +And even while her lips were uttering these various unworthy little +bitternesses she inwardly wondered at her own words. It was not what +she would have said, not at all what she was half minded to say. But a +devil of perverseness spurred her. She was full of protest against +everything. + +"I wish we'd had a baby," Bill murmured softly. "You'd be different. +You'd have something to live for besides this frothy, neurotic +existence that has poisoned you against the good, clean, healthy way of +life. I wish we'd had a kiddie. We'd have a fighting chance for +happiness now; something to keep us sane, something outside of our own +ego to influence us." + +"Thank God there isn't one!" she muttered. + +"Ah, well," Bill sighed, "I guess there is no use. I guess we can't +get together on anything. There doesn't seem to be any give-and-take +between us any longer." + +He rose and walked to the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned. + +"I have fixed things at the bank for you," he said abruptly. + +Then he walked out, without waiting for an answer. + +She heard the soft whir of the elevator. A minute later she saw him on +the sidewalk. He had an overcoat on his arm, a suit case in his hand. +She saw him lift a finger to halt a passing car. + +It seemed incredible that he should go like that. Surely he would come +back at noon or at dinner time. She had always felt that under his +gentleness there was iron. But deep in her heart she had never +believed him so implacable of purpose where she was concerned. + +She waited wearily, stirring with nervous restlessness from room to +room. + +Luncheon passed. The afternoon dragged by to a close. Dusk fell. And +when the night wrapped Granville in its velvet mantle, and the street +lights blinked away in shining rows, she cowered, sobbing, in the big +chair by the window. + +He was gone. + +Gone, without even saying good-by! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +A LETTER FROM BILL + +All through the long night she lay awake, struggling with the +incredible fact that Bill had left her; trying to absolve herself from +blame; flaring up in anger at his unyielding attitude, even while she +was sorely conscious that she herself had been stubbornly unyielding. +If he had truly loved her, she reiterated, he would never have made it +an issue between them. But that was like a man--to insist on his own +desires being made paramount; to blunder on headlong, no matter what +antagonisms he aroused. And he was completely in the wrong, she +reasserted. + +She recapitulated it all. Through the winter he had consistently +withdrawn into his shell. For her friends and for most of her +pleasures he had at best exhibited only tolerance. And he had ended by +outraging both them and her, and on top of that demanded that she turn +her back at twenty-four hours' notice, on Granville and all its +associations and follow him into a wilderness that she dreaded. She +had full right to her resentment. As his partner in the chancy +enterprise of marriage were not her feelings and desires entitled to +equal consideration? He had assumed the role of dictator. And she had +revolted. That was all. She was justified. + +Eventually she slept. At ten o'clock, heavy-eyed, suffering an +intolerable headache, she rose and dressed. + +Beside her plate lay a thick letter addressed in Bill's handwriting. +She drank her coffee and went back to the bedroom before she opened the +envelope. By the postmark she saw that it had been mailed on a train. + + +DEAR GIRL: I have caught my breath, so to speak, but I doubt if ever a +more forlorn cuss listened to the interminable clicking of car wheels. +I am tempted at each station to turn back and try again. It seems so +unreal, this parting in hot anger, so miserably unnecessary. But when +I stop to sum it up again, I see no use in another appeal. I could +come back--yes. Only the certain knowledge that giving in like that +would send us spinning once more in a vicious circle prevents me. I +didn't believe it possible that we could get so far apart. Nor that a +succession of little things could cut so weighty a figure in our lives. +And perhaps you are very sore and resentful at me this morning for +being so precipitate. + +I couldn't help it, Hazel. It seemed the only way. It seems so yet to +me. There was nothing more to keep me in Granville--everything to make +me hurry away. If I had weakened and temporized with you it would only +mean the deferring of just what has happened. When you declared +yourself flatly and repeatedly it seemed hopeless to argue further. I +am a poor pleader, perhaps; and I do not believe in compulsion between +us. Whatever you do you must do of your own volition, without pressure +from me. We couldn't be happy otherwise. If I compelled you to follow +me against your desire we should only drag misery in our train. + +I couldn't even say good-by. I didn't want it to be good-by. I didn't +know if I could stick to my determination to go unless I went as I did. +And my reason told me that if there must be a break it would better +come now than after long-drawn-out bickerings and bitterness. If we +are so diametrically opposed where we thought we stood together we have +made a mistake that no amount of adjusting, nothing but separate roads, +will rectify. Myself I refuse to believe that we have made such a +mistake. I don't think that honestly and deliberately you prefer an +exotic, useless, purposeless, parasitic existence to the normal, +wholesome life we happily planned. But you are obsessed, +intoxicated--I can't put it any better--and nothing but a shock will +sober you. If I'm wrong, if love and Bill's companionship can't lure +you away from these other things--why, I suppose you will consider it +an ended chapter. In that case you will not suffer. The situation as +it stands will be a relief to you. If, on the other hand, it's merely +a stubborn streak, that won't let you admit that you've carried your +proud little head on an over-stiff neck, do you think it's worth the +price? I don't. I'm not scolding, little person. I'm sick and sore +at the pass we've come to. No damn-fool pride can close my eyes to the +fact or keep me from admitting freely that I love you just as much and +want you as longingly as I did the day I put you aboard the _Stanley +D._ at Bella Coola. I thought you were stepping gladly out of my life +then. And I let you go freely and without anything but a dumb protest +against fate, because it was your wish. I can step out of your life +again--if it is your wish. But I can't imprison myself in your cities. +I can't pretend, even for your sake, to play the game they call +business. I'm neither an idler nor can I become a legalized buccaneer. +I have nothing but contempt for those who are. Mind you, this is not +so sweeping a statement as it sounds. No one has a keener appreciation +of what civilization means than I. Out of it has arisen culture and +knowledge, much of what should make the world a better place for us +all. But somehow this doesn't apply to the mass, and particularly not +to the circles we invaded in Granville. With here and there a solitary +exception that class is hopeless in its smug self-satisfaction--its +narrowness of outlook, and unblushing exploitation of the less +fortunate, repels me. + +And to dabble my hands in their muck, to settle down and live my life +according to their bourgeois standards, to have grossness of soft flesh +replace able sinews, to submerge mentality in favor of a specious +craftiness of mind which passes in the "city" for brains--well, I'm on +the road. And, oh, girl, girl, I wish you were with me. + +I must explain this mining deal--that phase of it which sent me on the +rampage in Granville. I should have done so before, should have +insisted on making it clear to you. But a fellow doesn't always do the +proper thing at the proper time. All too frequently we are dominated +by our emotions rather than by our judgment. It was so with me. The +other side had been presented to you rather cleverly at the right time. +And your ready acceptance of it angered me beyond bounds. You were +prejudiced. It stirred me to a perfect fury to think you couldn't be +absolutely loyal to your pal. When you took that position I simply +couldn't attempt explanations. Do you think I'd ever have taken the +other fellow's side against you, right or wrong? + +Anyway, here it is: You got the essentials, up to a certain point, from +Brooks. But he didn't tell it all--his kind never does, not by a long +shot. They, the four of them, it seems, held a meeting as soon as I +shipped out that gold and put through that stock-selling scheme. That +was legitimate. I couldn't restrain them from that, being a hopeless +minority of one. Their chief object, however, was to let two or three +friends in on the ground floor of a good thing; also, they wanted each +a good bundle of that stock while it was cheap--figuring that with the +prospects I had opened up it would sell high. So they had it on the +market, and in addition had everything framed up to reorganize with a +capitalization of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This all cut +and dried before I got there. Now, as it originally stood, the five of +us would each have made a small fortune on these Klappan claims. +They're good. But with a quarter of a million in outstanding +stock--well, it would be all right for the fellow with a big block. +But you can see where I would get off with a five-thousand-dollar +interest. To be sure, a certain proportion of the money derived from +the sale of this stock should be mine. But it goes into the treasury, +and they had it arranged to keep it in the treasury, as a fund for +operations, with them doing the operating. They had already indicated +their bent by voting an annual stipend of ten thousand and six thousand +dollars to Lorimer and Brooks as president and secretary respectively. +Me, they proposed to quiet with a manager's wage of a mere five +thousand a year--after I got on the ground and began to get my back up. + +Free Gold would have been a splendid Stock Exchange possibility. They +had it all doped out how they could make sundry clean-ups irrespective +of the mine's actual product. That was the first thing that made me +dubious. They were stock-market gamblers, manipulators pure and +simple. But I might have let it go at that, seeing it was their game +and not one that I or anybody I cared about would get fleeced at. I +didn't approve of it, you understand. It was their game. + +But they capped the climax with what I must cold-bloodedly characterize +as the baldest attempt at a dirty fraud I ever encountered. And they +had the gall to try and make me a party to it. To make this clear you +must understand that I, on behalf of the company and acting as the +company's agent, grubstaked Whitey Lewis and four others to go in and +stake those claims. I was empowered to arrange with these five men +that if the claims made a decent showing each should receive five +thousand dollars in stock for assigning their claims to the company, +and should have employment at top wages while the claims were operated. + +They surely earned it. You know what the North is in the dead of +winter. They bucked their way through a hell of frost and snow and +staked the claims. If ever men were entitled to what was due them, +they were. And not one of them stuttered over his bargain, even though +they were taking out weekly as much gold as they were to get for their +full share. They'd given their word, and they were white men. They +took me for a white man also. They took my word that they would get +what was coming to them, and gave me in the company's name clear title +to every claim. I put those titles on record in Hazleton, and came +home. + +Lorimer and Brooks deliberately proposed to withhold that stock, to +defraud these men, to steal--oh, I can't find words strong enough. +They wanted to let the matter stand; wanted me to let it be adjusted +later; anything to serve as an excuse for delay. Brooks said to me, +with a grin; "The property's in the company's name--let the roughnecks +sweat a while. They've got no come-back, anyhow." + +That was when I smashed him. Do you blame me? I'd taken over those +fellows' claims in good faith. Could I go back there and face those +men and say: "Boys, the company's got your claims, and they won't pay +for them." Do you think for a minute I'd let a bunch of lily-fingered +crooks put anything like that over on simple, square-dealing fellows +who were too honest to protect their own interests from sharp practice? +A quartet of soft-bodied mongrels who sat in upholstered office chairs +while these others wallowed through six feet of snow for three weeks, +living on bacon and beans, to grab a pot of gold for them! It makes my +fist double up when I think about it. + +And I wouldn't be put off or placated by a chance to fatten my own bank +roll. I didn't care if I broke the Free Gold Mining Company and myself +likewise. A dollar doesn't terrify nor yet fascinate me--I hope it +never will. And while, perhaps, it was not what they would call good +form for me to lose my temper and go at them with my fists, I was +fighting mad when I thoroughly sensed their dirty project. Anyway, it +helped bring them to time. When you take a man of that type and cuff +him around with your two hands he's apt to listen serious to what you +say. And they listened when I told them in dead earnest next day that +Whitey Lewis and his partners must have what was due them, or I'd wreck +the bunch of them if it took ten years and every dollar I had to do it. +And I could have put them on the tramp, too--they'd already dipped +their fingers in where they couldn't stand litigation. I'm sure of +that--or they would never have come through; which they did. + +But I'm sorry I ever got mixed up with them. I'm going to sell my +stock and advise Lewis and the others to do the same while we can get +full value for it. Lorimer and that bunch will manipulate the outfit +to death, no matter how the mine produces. They'll have a quarter of a +million to work on pretty soon, and they'll work it hard. They're +shysters--but it's after all only a practical demonstration of the +ethics of the type--"Do everybody you can--if you can do 'em so there's +no come-back." + +That's all of that. I don't care two whoops about the money. There is +still gold in the Klappan Range and other corners of the North, +whenever I need it. But it nauseated me. I can't stand that cutthroat +game. And Granville, like most other cities of its kind, lives by and +for that sort of thing. The pressure of modern life makes it +inevitable. Anyway, a town is no place for me. I can stomach it about +so long, and no longer. It's too cramped, too girded about with +petty-larceny conventions. If once you slip and get down, every one +walks on you. Everything's restricted, priced, tinkered with. There +is no real freedom of body or spirit. I wouldn't trade a comfy log +cabin in the woods with a big fireplace and a shelf of books for the +finest home on Maple Drive--not if I had to stay there and stifle in +the dust and smoke and smells. That would be a sordid and impoverished +existence. I cannot live by the dog-eat-dog code that seems to prevail +wherever folk get jammed together in an unwieldy social mass. + +I have said the like to you before. By nature and training I'm +unfitted to live in these crowded places. I love you, little person, I +don't think you realize how much, but I can't make you happy by making +myself utterly miserable. That would only produce the inevitable +reaction. But I still think you are essentially enough like me to meet +me on common ground. You loved me and you found contentment and joy at +our little cabin once. Don't you think it might be waiting there again? + +If you really care, if I and the old North still mean anything to you, +a few days or weeks, or even months of separation won't matter. An +affection that can't survive six months is too fragile to go through +life on. I don't ask you to jump the next train and follow me. I +don't ask you to wire me, "Come back, Bill." Though I would come quick +enough if you called me. I merely want you to think it over soberly +and let your heart decide. You know where I stand, don't you, Hazel, +dear? I haven't changed--not a bit--I'm the same old Bill. But I'd +rather hit the trail alone than with an unwilling partner. Don't +flounder about in any quicksand of duty. There is no "I ought to" +between us. + +So it is up to you once more, little person. If my way is not to be +your way I will abide by your decision without whining. And whenever +you want to reach me, a message to Felix Courvoiseur, Fort George, will +eventually find me. I'll fix it that way. + +I don't know what I'll do after I make that Klappan trip. I'm too +restless to make plans. What's the use of planning when there's nobody +but myself to plan for? + +So long, little person. I like you a heap, for all your cantankerous +ways. + +BILL. + + +She laid aside the letter, with a lump in her throat. For a brief +instant she was minded to telegraph the word that would bring him +hurrying back. But--some of the truths he had set down in cold black +and white cut her deep. Of a surety she had drawn her weapon on the +wrong side in the mining trouble. Over-hasty?--yes. And shamefully +disloyal. Perhaps there was something in it, after all; that is to +say, it might be they had made a mistake. She saw plainly enough that +unless she could get back some of the old enthusiasm for that +wilderness life, unless the fascination of magnificent distances, of +silent, breathless forests, of contented, quiet days on trail and +stream, could lay fast hold of her again, they would only defer the day +of reckoning, as Bill had said. + +And she was not prepared to go that far. She still harbored a +smoldering grudge against him for his volcanic outburst in Granville, +and too precipitate departure. He had given her no time to think, to +make a choice. The flesh-pots still seemed wholly desirable--or, +rather, she shrank from the alternative. When she visualized the North +it uprose always in its most threatening presentment, indescribably +lonely, the playground of ruthless, elemental forces, terrifying in its +vast emptinesses. It appalled her in retrospect, loomed unutterably +desolate in contrast to her present surroundings. + +No, she would not attempt to call him back. She doubted if he would +come. And she would not go--not yet. She must have time to think. + +One thing pricked her sorely. She could not reconcile the roguery of +Brooks and Lorimer with the men as she knew them. Not that she doubted +Bill's word. But there must be a mistake somewhere. Ruthless +competition in business she knew and understood. Only the fit +survived--just as in her husband's chosen field only the peculiarly fit +could hope to survive. But she rather resented the idea that pleasant, +well-bred people could be guilty of coarse, forthright fraud. Surely +not! + +Altogether, as the first impression of Bill's letter grew less vivid to +her she considered her grievances more. And she was minded to act as +she had set out to do--to live her life as seemed best to her, rather +than pocket her pride and rejoin Bill. The feminine instinct to compel +the man to capitulate asserted itself more and more strongly. + +Wherefore, she dressed carefully and prepared to meet a luncheon +engagement which she recalled as being down for that day. No matter +that her head ached woefully. Thought maddened her. She required +distraction, craved change. The chatter over the tea-cups, the +cheerful nonsense of that pleasure-seeking crowd might be a tonic. +Anything was better than to sit at home and brood. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE SPUR. + +A month passed. + +During that thirty-day period she received a brief note from Bill. +Just a few lines to say: + + +Hit the ranch yesterday, little person. Looks good to me. Have had +Lauer do some work on it this summer. Went fishing last night about +sundown. Trout were rising fine. Nailed a two-pounder. He jumped a +foot clear of the water after my fly, and gave me a hot time for about +ten minutes. Woke up this morning at daylight and found a buck deer +with two lady friends standing in the middle of the clearing. I loafed +a fews days in Fort George, sort of thinking I might hear from you. Am +sending this out by Jake. Will start for the Klappan about day after +to-morrow. + + +She had not answered his first letter. She had tried to. But somehow +when she tried to set pen to paper the right words would not come. She +lacked his facility of expression. There was so much she wanted to +say, so little she seemed able to say. As the days passed she felt +less sure of her ground, less sure that she had not sacrificed +something precious to a vagary of self, an obsession of her own ego. + +Many things took on a different complexion now that she stood alone. +No concrete evidence of change stood forth preëminent. It was largely +subjective, atmospheric, intangible impressions. + +Always with a heart sinking she came back to the empty apartment, +knowing that it would be empty. During Bill's transient absence of the +spring she had missed him scarcely at all. She could not say that now. + +And slowly but surely she began to view all her activities of her +circle with a critical eye. She was brought to this partly in +self-defense. Certain of her friends had become tentative enemies. +Kitty Brooks and the Bray womenfolk, who were a numerous and +influential tribe, not only turned silent faces when they met, but they +made war on her in the peculiar fashion of women. A word here, a +suggestive phrase there, a shrug of the shoulders. It all bore fruit. +Other friends conveyed the avid gossip. Hazel smiled and ignored it. +But in her own rooms she raged unavailingly. + +Her husband had left her. There was a man in the case. They had lost +everything. The first count was sufficiently maddening because it was +a half truth. And any of it was irritating--even if few +believed--since it made a choice morsel to digest in gossipy corners, +and brought sundry curious stares on Hazel at certain times. Also Mr. +Wagstaff had caused the stockholders of Free Gold a heavy loss--which +was only offset by the fact that the Free Gold properties were +producing richly. None of this was even openly flung at her. She +gathered it piecemeal. And it galled her. She could not openly defend +either Bill or herself against the shadowy scandalmongers. + +Slowly it dawned upon her, with a bitterness born of her former +experience with Granville, that she had lost something of the standing +that certain circles had accorded her as the wife of a successful +mining man. It made her ponder. Was Bill so far wrong, after all, in +his estimate of them? It was a disheartening conclusion. She had come +of a family that stood well in Granville; she had grown up there; if +life-time friends blew hot and cold like that, was the game worth +playing? + +In so far as she could she gave the lie to some of the petty gossip. +Whereas at first she had looked dubiously on spending Bill's money to +maintain the standard of living they had set up, she now welcomed that +deposit of five thousand dollars as a means to demonstrate that even in +his absence he stood behind her financially--which she began to +perceive counted more than anything else. So long as she could dress +in the best, while she could ride where others walked, so long as she +betrayed no limitation of resources, the doors stood wide. Not what +you are, but what you've got--she remembered Bill saying that was their +holiest creed. + +It repelled her. And sometimes she was tempted to sit down and pour it +all out in a letter to him. But she could not quite bring herself to +the point. Always behind Bill loomed the vast and dreary Northland, +and she shrank from that. + +On top of this, she began to suffer a queer upset of her physical +condition. All her life she had been splendidly healthy; her body a +perfect-working machine, afflicted with no weaknesses. Now odd +spasmodic pains recurred without rhyme or reason in her head, her back, +her limbs, striking her with sudden poignancy, disappearing as suddenly. + +She was stretched on the lounge one afternoon wrestling nervously with +a particularly acute attack, when Vesta Lorimer was ushered in. + +"You're almost a stranger," Hazel remarked, after the first greetings. +"Your outing must have been pleasant, to hold you so long." + +"It would have held me longer," Vesta returned, "if I didn't have to be +in touch with my market. I could live quite happily on my island eight +months in the year. But one can't get people to come several hundred +miles to a sitting. And I feel inclined to acquire a living income +while my vogue lasts." + +"You're rather a wilderness lover, aren't you?" Hazel commented. "I +don't think you'd love it as dearly if you were buried alive in it." + +"That would all depend on the circumstances," Vesta replied. "One +escapes many disheartening things in a country that is still +comparatively primitive. The continual grind of keeping one's end up +in town gets terribly wearisome. I'm always glad to go to the woods, +and sorry when I have to leave. But I suppose it's largely in one's +point of view." + +They chatted of sundry matters for a few minutes. + +"By the way, is there any truth in the statement that this Free Gold +row has created trouble between you and your husband?" Vesta asked +abruptly. "I dare say it's quite an impertinent question, and you'd be +well within your rights to tell me it's none of my business. But I +should like to confound some of these petty tattlers. I haven't been +home forty-eight hours; yet I've heard tongues wagging. I hope there's +nothing in it. I warned Mr. Wagstaff against Paul." + +"Warned him? Why?" Hazel neglected the question entirely. The +bluntness of it took her by surprise. Frank speech was not a +characteristic of Vesta Lorimer's set. + +The girl shrugged her shoulders. + +"He is my brother, but that doesn't veil my eyes," she said coolly. +"Paul is too crooked to lie straight in bed. I'm glad Mr. Wagstaff +brought the lot of them up with a round turn--which he seems to have +done. If he had used a club instead of his fists it would have been +only their deserts. I suppose the fuss quite upset you?" + +"It did," Hazel admitted grudgingly. "It did more than upset me." + +"I thought as much," Vesta said slowly. "It made you inflict an +undeserved hurt on a man who should have had better treatment at your +hands; not only because he loves you, but because he is one of the few +men who deserve the best that you or any woman can give." + +Hazel straightened up angrily. + +"Where do you get your astonishing information, pray?" she asked hotly. +"And where do you get your authority to say such things to me?" + +Vesta tucked back a vagrant strand of her tawny hair. Her blue eyes +snapped, and a red spot glowed on each smooth, fair cheek. + +"I don't get it; I'm taking it," she flung back. "I have eyes and +ears, and I have used them for months. Since you inquire, I happened +to be going over the Lake Division on the same train that carried your +husband back to the North. You can't knife a man without him bearing +the marks of it; and I learned in part why he was going back alone. +The rest I guessed, by putting two and two together. You're a silly, +selfish, shortsighted little fool, if my opinion is worth having." + +"You've said quite enough," Hazel cried. "If you have any more +insults, please get rid of them elsewhere. I think you are--" + +"Oh, I don't care what you think of me," the girl interrupted +recklessly. "If I did I wouldn't be here. I'd hide behind the +conventional rules of the game and let you blunder along. But I can't. +I'm not gifted with your blind egotism. Whatever you are, that Bill of +yours loves you, and if you care anything for him, you should be with +him. I would, if I were lucky enough to stand in your shoes. I'd go +with him down into hell itself gladly if he wanted me to!" + +"Oh!" Hazel gasped. "Are you clean mad?" + +"Shocked to death, aren't you?" Vesta fleered. "You can't understand, +can you? I love him--yes. I'm not ashamed to own it. I'm no +sentimental prude to throw up my hands in horror at a perfectly natural +emotion. But he is not for me. I dare say I couldn't give him an +added heartbeat if I tried. And I have a little too much +pride--strange as it may seem to you--to try, so long as he is chained +hand and foot to your chariot. But you're making him suffer. And I +care enough to want him to live all his days happily. He is a man, and +there are so few of them, real men. If you can make him happy I'd +compel you to do so, if I had the power. You couldn't understand that +kind of a love. Oh, I could choke you for your stupid disloyalty. I +could do almost anything that would spur you to action. I can't rid +myself of the hopeless, reckless mood he was in. There are so few of +his kind, the patient, strong, loyal, square-dealing men, with a +woman's tenderness and a lion's courage. Any woman should be proud and +glad to be his mate, to mother his children. And you--" + +She threw out her hands with a sudden, despairing gesture. The blue +eyes grew misty, and she hid her face in her palms. Before that +passionate outburst Hazel sat dumbly amazed, staring, uncertain. In a +second Vesta lifted her head defiantly. + +"I had no notion of breaking out like this when I came up," she said +quietly. "I was going to be very adroit. I intended to give you a +friendly boost along the right road, if I could. But it has all been +bubbling inside me for a long time. You perhaps think it very +unwomanly--but I don't care much what you think. My little heartache +is incidental, one of the things life deals us whether we will or not. +But if you care in the least for your husband, for God's sake make some +effort, some sacrifice of your own petty little desires, to make his +road a little pleasanter, a little less gray than it must be now. +You'll be well repaid--if you are the kind that must always be paid in +full. Don't be a stiff-necked idiot. That's all I wanted to say. +Good-by!" + +She was at the door when she finished. The click of the closing catch +stirred Hazel to speech and action. + +"Vesta, Vesta!" she cried, and ran out into the corridor. + +But Vesta Lorimer neither heeded nor halted. And Hazel went back to +her room, quivering. Sometimes the truth is bitter and stirs to wrath. +And mingled with other emotions was a dull pang of jealousy--the first +she had ever known. For Vesta Lorimer was beautiful beyond most women; +and she had but given ample evidence of the bigness of her soul. With +shamed tears creeping to her eyes, Hazel wondered if _she_ could love +even Bill so intensely that she would drive another woman to his arms +that he might win happiness. + +But one thing stood out clear above that painful meeting. She was done +fighting against the blankness that seemed to surround her since Bill +went away. Slowly but steadily it had been forced upon her that much +which she deemed desirable, even necessary, was of little weight in the +balance with him. Day and night she longed for him, for his cheery +voice, the whimsical good humor of him, his kiss and his smile. +Indubitably Vesta Lorimer was right to term her a stiff-necked, selfish +fool. But if all folk were saturated with the essence of wisdom--well, +there was but one thing to be done. Silly pride had to go by the +board. If to face gayly a land she dreaded were the price of easing +his heartache--and her own--that price she would pay, and pay with a +grace but lately learned. + +She lay down on the lounge again. The old pains were back. And as she +endured, a sudden startling thought flashed across her mind. A +possibility?--Yes. She hurried to dress, wondering why it had not +before occurred to her, and, phoning up a taxi, rolled downtown to the +office of Doctor Hart. An hour or so later she returned. A picture of +her man stood on the mantel. She took it down and stared at it with a +tremulous smile. + +"Oh, Billy-boy, Billy-boy, I wish you knew," she whispered. "But I was +coming, anyway, Bill!" + +That evening, stirring about her preparations for the journey, she +paused, and wondered why, for the first time since Bill left, she felt +so utterly at peace. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +HOME AGAIN + +Twelve months works many a change on a changing frontier. Hazel found +this so. When she came to plan her route she found the G. T. P. +bridging the last gap in a transcontinental system, its trains +westbound already within striking distance of Fort George. She could +board a sleeping car at Granville and detrain within a hundred miles of +the ancient trading post--with a fast river boat to carry her the +remaining distance. + +Fort George loomed up a jumbled area of houses and tents, log +buildings, frame structures yellow in their newness, strangers to paint +as yet. On every hand others stood in varying stages of erection. +Folks hurried about the sturdy beginning of a future greatness. And as +she left the boat and followed a new-laid walk of planks toward a +hotel, Jake Lauer stepped out of a store, squarely into her path. + +His round face lit up with a smile of recognition. And Hazel, fresh +from the long and lonesome journey, was equally glad to set eyes on a +familiar, a genuinely friendly face. + +"I am pleased to welgome you back to Gott's country, Mrs. Vagstaff," he +said. "Und let me carry dot suid case alretty." + +They walked two blocks to the King's Hotel, where Lauer's family was +housed. He was in for supplies, he told her, and, of course, his wife +and children accompanied him. + +"Not dat Gredda iss afraid. She iss so goot a man as I on der ranch +ven I am gone," he explained. "But for dem it iss a change. Und I +bring by der town a vaigonloat off bodadoes. By cosh, dem bodadoes iss +sell high." + +It flashed into Hazel's mind that here was a Heaven-sent opportunity to +reach the cabin without facing that hundred miles in the company of +chance-hired strangers. But she did not broach the subject at once. +Instead, she asked eagerly of Bill. Lauer told her that Bill had +tarried a few days at the cabin, and then struck out alone for the +mines. And he had not said when he would be back. + +Mrs. Lauer, unchanged from a year earlier, welcomed her with pleased +friendliness. And Jake left the two of them and the chubby kiddies in +the King's office while he betook himself about his business. Hazel +haled his wife and the children to her room as soon as one was assigned +to her. And there, almost before she knew it, she was murmuring +brokenly her story into an ear that listened with sympathy and +understanding. Only a woman can grasp some of a woman's needs. Gretta +Lauer patted Hazel's shoulder with a motherly hand, and bade her cheer +up. + +"Home's the place for you, dear," she said smilingly. "You just come +right along with us. Your man will come quick enough when he gets +word. And we'll take good care of you in the meantime. La, I'm all +excited over it. It's the finest thing could happen for you both. +Take it from me, dearie. I know. We've had our troubles, Jake and I. +And, seeing I'm only six months short of being a graduate nurse, you +needn't fear. Well, well!" + +"I'll need to have food hauled in," Hazel reflected. "And some things +I brought with me. I wish Bill were here. I'm afraid I'll be a lot of +bother. Won't you be heavily loaded, as it is?" + +She recalled swiftly the odd, makeshift team that Lauer depended +on--the mule, lop-eared and solemn, "und Gretchen, der cow." She had +cash and drafts for over three thousand dollars on her person. She +wondered if it would offend the sturdy independence of these simple, +kindly neighbors, if she offered to supply a four-horse team and wagon +for their mutual use? But she had been forestalled there, she learned +in the next breath. + +"Oh, bother nothing," Mrs. Lauer declared. "Why, we'd be ashamed if we +couldn't help a little. And far's the load goes, you ought to see the +four beautiful horses your husband let Jake have. You don't know how +much Jake appreciates it, nor what a fine man he thinks your husband +is. We needed horses so bad, and didn't have the money to buy. So Mr. +Wagstaff didn't say a thing but got the team for us, and Jake's paying +for them in clearing and plowing and making improvements on your land. +Honest, they could pull twice the load we'll have. There's a good +wagon road most of the way now. Quite a lot of settlers, too, as much +as fifty or sixty miles out. And we've got the finest garden you ever +saw. Vegetables enough to feed four families all winter. Oh, your old +cities! I never want to live in one again. Never a day have the +kiddies been sick. Suppose it is a bit out of the world? You're all +the more pleased when somebody does happen along. Folks is so +different in a new country like this. There's plenty for +everybody--and everybody helps, like neighbors ought to." + +Lauer came up after a time, and Hazel found herself unequivocally in +their hands. With the matter of transporting herself and supplies thus +solved, she set out to find Felix Courvoiseur--who would know how to +get word to Bill. He might come back to the cabin in a month or so; he +might not come back at all unless he heard from her. She was smitten +with a great fear that he might give her up as lost to him, and plunge +deeper into the wilderness in some mood of recklessness. And she +wanted him, longed for him, if only so that she could make amends. + +She easily found Courvoiseur, a tall, spare Frenchman, past middle age. +Yes, he could deliver a message to Bill Wagstaff; that is, he could +send a man. Bill Wagstaff was in the Klappan Range. + +"But if he should have left there?" Hazel suggested uneasily. + +"'E weel leave weeth W'itey Lewees word of w'ere 'e go," Courvoiseur +reassured her. "An' my man, w'ich ees my bruzzer-law, w'ich I can mos' +fully trus', 'e weel follow 'eem. So Beel 'e ees arrange. 'E ees say +mos' parteecular if madame ees come or weesh for forward message, geet +heem to me queeck. _Oui_. Long tam Beel ees know me. I am for depend +always." + +Courvoiseur kept a trader's stock of goods in a weather-beaten old log +house which sprawled a hundred feet back from the street. Thirty +years, he told her, he had kept that store in Fort George. She guessed +that Bill had selected him because he was a fixture. She sat down at +his counter and wrote her message. Just a few terse lines. And when +she had delivered it to Courvoiseur she went back to the hotel. There +was nothing now to do but wait. And with the message under way she +found herself impatient to reach the cabin, to spend the waiting days +where she had first found happiness. She could set her house in order +against her man's coming. And if the days dragged, and the great, lone +land seemed to close in and press inexorably upon her, she would have +to be patient, very patient. + +Jake was held up, waiting for supplies. Fort George suffered a sugar +famine. Two days later, the belated freight arrived. He loaded his +wagon, a ton of goods for himself, a like weight of Hazel's supplies +and belongings. A goodly load, but he drove out of Fort George with +four strapping bays arching their powerful necks, and champing on the +bit. + +"Four days ve vill make it by der ranch," Jake chuckled. "Mit der mule +und Gretchen, der cow, von veek it take me, mit half der loat." + +Four altogether pleasant and satisfying days they were to Hazel. The +worst of the fly pests were vanished for the season. A crisp touch of +frost sharpened the night winds. Indian summer hung its mellow haze +over the land. The clean, pungent air that sifted through the forests +seemed doubly sweet after the vitiated atmosphere of town. Fresh from +a gridiron of dusty streets and stone pavements, and but stepped, as +one might say, from days of imprisonment in the narrow confines of a +railway coach, she drank the winey air in hungry gulps, and joyed in +the soft yielding of the turf beneath her feet, the fern and pea-vine +carpet of the forest floor. + +It was her pleasure at night to sleep as she and Bill had slept, with +her face bared to the stars. She would draw her bed a little aside +from the camp fire and from the low seclusion of a thicket lie watching +the nimble flames at their merry dance, smiling lazily at the grotesque +shadows cast by Jake and his frau as they moved about the blaze. And +she would wake in the morning clear-headed, alert, grateful for the +pleasant woodland smells arising wholesomely from the fecund bosom of +the earth. + +Lauer pulled up before his own cabin at mid-afternoon of the fourth +day, unloaded his own stuff, and drove to his neighbor's with the rest. + +"I'll walk back after a little," Hazel told him, when he had piled her +goods in one corner of the kitchen. + +The rattle of the wagon died away. She was alone--at home. Her eyes +filled as she roved restlessly from kitchen to living-room and on into +the bedroom at the end. Bill had unpacked. The rugs were down, the +books stowed in familiar disarray upon their shelves, the bedding +spread in semi-disorder where he had last slept and gone away without +troubling to smooth it out in housewifely fashion. + +She came back to the living-room and seated herself in the big chair. +She had expected to be lonely, very lonely. But she was not. Perhaps +that would come later. For the present it seemed as if she had reached +the end of something, as if she were very tired, and had gratefully +come to a welcome resting place. She turned her gaze out the open door +where the forest fell away in vast undulations to a range of +snow-capped mountains purple in the autumn haze, and a verse that Bill +had once quoted came back to her: + + "Oh, to feel the Wind grow strong + Where the Trail leaps down. + I could never learn the way + And wisdom of the Town." + + +She blinked. The town--it seemed to have grown remote, a fantasy in +which she had played a puppet part. But she was home again. If only +the gladness of it endured strong enough to carry her through whatever +black days might come to her there alone. + +She would gladly have cooked her supper in the kitchen fireplace, and +laid down to sleep under her own roof. It seemed the natural thing to +do. But she had not expected to find the cabin livably arranged, and +she had promised the Lauers to spend the night with them. So presently +she closed the door and walked away through the woods. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +AFTER MANY DAYS + +September and October trooped past, and as they marched the willow +thickets and poplar groves grew yellow and brown, and carpeted the +floor of the woods with fallen leaves. Shrub and tree bared gaunt +limbs to every autumn wind. Only the spruce and pine stood forth in +their year-round habiliments of green. The days shortened steadily. +The nights grew long, and bitter with frost. Snow fell, blanketing +softly the dead leaves. Old Winter cracked his whip masterfully over +all the North. + +Day by day, between tasks, and often while she worked, Hazel's eyes +would linger on the edges of the clearing. Often at night she would +lift herself on elbow at some unexpected sound, her heart leaping wild +with expectation. And always she would lie down again, and sometimes +press her clenched hand to her lips to keep back the despairing cry. +Always she adjured herself to be patient, to wait doggedly as Bill +would have waited, to make due allowance for immensity of distance for +the manifold delays which might overtake a messenger faring across +those silent miles or a man hurrying to his home. Many things might +hold him back. But he would come. It was inconceivable that he might +not come. + +Meantime, with only a dim consciousness of the fact, she underwent a +marvelous schooling in adaptation, self-restraint. She had work of a +sort, tasks such as every housewife finds self-imposed in her own home. +She was seldom lonely. She marveled at that. It was unique in her +experience. All her old dread of the profound silence, the pathless +forests which infolded like a prison wall, distances which seemed +impossible of span, had vanished. In its place had fallen over her an +abiding sense of peace, of security. The lusty storm winds whistling +about the cabin sang a restful lullaby. When the wolves lifted their +weird, melancholy plaint to the cold, star-jeweled skies, she listened +without the old shudder. These things, which were wont to oppress her, +to send her imagination reeling along morbid ways, seemed but a natural +aspect of life, of which she herself was a part. + +Often, sitting before her glowing fireplace, watching a flame kindled +with her own hands with wood she herself had carried from the pile +outside, she pondered this. It defied her powers of self-analysis. +She could only accept it as a fact, and be glad. Granville and all +that Granville stood for had withdrawn to a more or less remote +background. She could look out over the frost-spangled forests and +feel that she lacked nothing--nothing save her mate. There was no +impression of transient abiding; no chafing to be elsewhere, to do +otherwise. It was home, she reflected; perhaps that was why. + +A simple routine served to fill her days. She kept her house shining, +she cooked her food, carried in her fuel. Except on days of forthright +storm she put on her snowshoes, and with a little rifle in the crook of +her arm prowled at random through the woods--partly because it gave her +pleasure to range sturdily afield, partly for the physical brace of +exertion in the crisp air. Otherwise she curled comfortably before the +fire-place, and sewed, or read something out of Bill's catholic +assortment of books. + +It was given her, also, to learn the true meaning of neighborliness, +that kindliness of spirit which is stifled by stress in the crowded +places, and stimulated by like stress amid surroundings where life is +noncomplex, direct, where cause and effect tread on each other's heels. +Every day, if she failed to drop into their cabin, came one of her +neighbors to see if all were well with her. Quite as a matter of +course Jake kept steadily replenished for her a great pile of firewood. +Or they would come, babies and all, bundled in furs of Jake's trapping, +jingling up of an evening behind the frisky bays. And while the bays +munched hay in Roaring Bill Wagstaff's stable, they would cluster about +the open hearth, popping corn for the children, talking, always with +cheerful optimism. + +Behind Lauer's mild blue eyes lurked a mind that burrowed incessantly +to the roots of things. He had lived and worked and read, and, +pondering it all, he had summed up a few of the verities. + +"Life, it iss giffen us, und ve must off it make der best ve can," he +said once to Hazel, fondling a few books he had borrowed to read at +home. "Life iss goot, yust der liffing off life, if only ve go not +astray afder der voolish dings--und if der self-breservation struggle +vears us not out so dot ve gannot enjoy being alife. So many iss +struggle und slave under terrible conditions. Und it iss largely +because off ignorance. Ve know not vot ve can do--und ve shrink vrom +der unknown. Here iss acres by der dousand vree to der man vot can off +it make use--und dousands vot liffs und dies und neffer hass a home. +Here iss goot, glean air--und in der shmoke und shmells und dirty +streets iss a ravage of tuberculosis. Der balance iss not true. Und +in der own vay der rich iss full off drouble--drunk mit eggcitement, +veary mit bleasures. Ach, der voods und mountains und streams, blenty +off food, und a kindly neighbor--iss not dot enough? Only der abnormal +vants more as dot. Und I dink der drouble iss largely dot der modern, +high-bressure cifilization makes for der abnormal, vedder a man iss a +millionaire or vorks in der brewery, contentment iss a state off der +mind--und if der mind vorks mit logic it vill content find in der +simple dings." + +It sounded like a pronouncement of Bill's. But Lauer did not often +grow serious. Mostly he was jovially cheerful, and his wife likewise. +The North had emancipated them, and they were loyal to the source of +their deliverance. And Hazel understood, because she herself had found +the wild land a benefactor, kindly in its silence, restful in its +forested peace, a cure for sickness of soul. Twice now it had rescued +her from herself. + +November and December went their appointed way--and still no word of +Bill. If now and then her pillow was wet she struggled mightily +against depression. She was not lonely in the dire significance of the +word--but she longed passionately for him. And she held fast to her +faith that he would come. + +The last of the old year she went little abroad, ventured seldom beyond +the clearing. And on New Year's Eve Jake Lauer's wife came to the +cabin to stay. + + +Hazel sat up, wide awake, on the instant. There was not the slightest +sound. She had been deep in sleep. Nevertheless she felt, rather than +knew, that some one was in the living-room. Perhaps the sound of the +door opening had filtered through her slumber. She hesitated an +instant, not through fear, because in the months of living alone fear +had utterly forsaken her; but hope had leaped so often, only to fall +sickeningly, that she was half persuaded it must be a dream. Still the +impression strengthened. She slipped out of bed. The door of the +bedroom stood slightly ajar. + +Bill stood before the fireplace, his shaggy fur cap pushed far back on +his head, his gauntlets swinging from the cord about his neck. She had +left a great bed of coals on the hearth, and the glow shone redly on +his frost-scabbed face. But the marks of bitter trail bucking, the +marks of frostbite, the stubby beard, the tiny icicles that still +clustered on his eyebrows; while these traces of hardship tugged at her +heart they were forgotten when she saw the expression that overshadowed +his face. Wonder and unbelief and longing were all mirrored there. +She took a shy step forward to see what riveted his gaze. And despite +the choking sensation in her throat she smiled--for she had taken off +her little, beaded house moccasins and left them lying on the bearskin +before the fire, and he was staring down at them like a man +fresh-wakened from a dream, unbelieving and bewildered. + +[Illustration: Bill stood before the fireplace, his shaggy fur cap +pushed far back on his head.] + +With that she opened the door and ran to him. He started, as if she +had been a ghost. Then he opened his arms and drew her close to him. + +"Bill, Bill, what made you so long?" she whispered. "I guess it served +me right, but it seemed a never-ending time." + +"What made me so long?" he echoed, bending his rough cheek down against +the warm smoothness of hers. "Lord, _I_ didn't know you wanted me. I +ain't no telepathist, hon. You never yeeped one little word since I +left. How long you been here?" + +"Since last September." She smiled up at him. "Didn't Courvoiseur's +man deliver a message from me to the mine? Didn't you come in answer +to my note?" + +"Great Caesar's ghost--since September--alone! You poor little girl!" +he murmured. "No, if you sent word to me through Courvoiseur I never +got it. Maybe something happened his man. I left the Klappan with the +first snow. Went poking aimlessly over around the Finlay River with a +couple of trappers. Couldn't settle down. Never heard a word from +you. I'd given you up. I just blew in this way by sheer accident. +Girl, girl, you don't know how good it is to see you again, to have +this warm body of yours cuddled up to me again. And you came right +here and planted yourself to wait till I turned up?" + +"Sure!" She laughed happily. "But I sent you word, even if you never +got it. Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters now. You're +here, and I'm here, and-- Oh, Billy-boy, I was an awful pig-headed +idiot. Do you think you can take another chance with me?" + +"Say"--he held her off at arm's length admiringly--"do you want to know +how strong I am for taking a chance with you? Well, I was on my way +out to flag the next train East, just to see--just to see if you still +cared two pins; to see if you still thought your game was better than +mine." + +"Well, you don't have to take any eastbound train to find that out," +she cried gayly. "I'm here to tell you I care a lot more than any +number of pins. Oh, I've learned a lot in the last six months, Bill. +I had to hurt myself, and you, too. I had to get a jolt to jar me out +of my self-centered little orbit. I got it, and it did me good. And +it's funny. I came back here because I thought I ought to, because it +was our home, but rather dreading it. And I've been quite contented +and happy--only hungry, oh, so dreadfully hungry, for you." + +Bill kissed her. + +"I didn't make any mistake in you, after all," he said. "You're a real +partner. You're the right stuff. I love you more than ever. If you +made a mistake you paid for it, like a dead-game sport. What's a few +months? We've all our life before us, and it's plain sailing now we've +got our bearings again." + +"Amen!" she whispered. "I--but, say, man of mine, you've been on the +trail, and I know what the trail is. You must be hungry. I've got all +kinds of goodies cooked in the kitchen. Take off your clothes, and +I'll get you something to eat." + +"I'll go you," he said. "I am hungry. Made a long mush to get here +for the night. I got six huskies running loose outside, so if you hear +'em scuffing around you'll know it's not the wolves. Say, it was some +welcome surprise to find a fire when I came in. Thought first somebody +traveling through had put up. Then I saw those slippers lying there. +That was sure making me take notice when you stepped out." + +He chuckled at the recollection. Hazel lit the lamp, and stirred up +the fire, plying it with wood. Then she slipped a heavy bath-robe over +her nightgown and went into the chilly kitchen, emerging therefrom +presently with a tray of food and a kettle of water to make coffee. +This she set on the fire. Wherever she moved Bill's eyes followed her +with a gleam of joy, tinctured with smiling incredulousness. When the +kettle was safely bestowed on the coals, he drew her on his knee. +There for a minute she perched in rich content. Then she rose. + +"Come very quietly with me, Bill," she whispered, with a fine air of +mystery. "I want to show you something." + +"Sure! What is it?" he asked. + +"Come and see," she smiled, and took up the lamp. Bill followed +obediently. + +Close up beside her bed stood a small, square crib. Hazel set the lamp +on a table, and turning to the bundle of blankets which filled this new +piece of furniture, drew back one corner, revealing a round, +puckered-up infant face. + +"For the love of Mike!" Bill muttered. "Is it--is it--" + +"It's our son," she whispered proudly. "Born the tenth of +January--three weeks ago to-day. Don't, don't--you great bear--you'll +wake him." + +For Bill was bending down to peer at the tiny morsel of humanity, with +a strange, abashed smile on his face, his big, clumsy fingers touching +the soft, pink cheeks. And when he stood up he drew a long breath, and +laid one arm across her shoulders. + +"Us two and the kid," he said whimsically. "It should be the hardest +combination in the world to bust. Are you happy, little person?" + +She nodded, clinging to him, wordlessly happy. And presently she +covered the baby's face, and they went back to sit before the great +fireplace, where the kettle bubbled cheerfully and the crackling blaze +sent forth its challenge to the bevy of frost sprites that held high +revel outside. + +And, after a time, the blaze died to a heap of glowing embers, and the +forerunning wind of a northeast storm soughed and whistled about a +house deep wrapped in contented slumber, a house no longer divided +against itself. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE*** + + +******* This file should be named 19510-8.txt or 19510-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/5/1/19510 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Sinclair</title> +<style type="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: medium; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {font-size: small ; + margin-left: 15% ; + margin-right: 15% } + +p.dedication {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 15%; + text-align: justify } + +P.published {font-size: small ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 15% } + +p.finis { text-align: center } + + + hr.full { width: 100%; + height: 5px; } + a:link { color:blue; + text-decoration:none; } + link { color:blue; + text-decoration:none; } + a:visited { color:blue; + text-decoration:none; } + a:hover { color:red; + text-decoration: underline; } + pre { font-size: 75%; } +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 align="center">The Project Gutenberg eBook, North of Fifty-Three, by Bertrand W. +Sinclair, Illustrated by Anton Otto Fischer</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: North of Fifty-Three</p> +<p>Author: Bertrand W. Sinclair</p> +<p>Release Date: October 9, 2006 [eBook #19510]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE***</p> +<br><br><center><h3>E-text prepared by Al Haines</h3></center><br><br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT=""Oh!" she gasped. "Why--it's gold!"" BORDER="2" WIDTH="398" HEIGHT="581"> +<H3> +[Frontispiece: "Oh!" she gasped. "Why—it's gold!"] +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +BERTRAND W. SINCLAIR +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AUTHOR OF +<BR> +THE LAND OF FROZEN SUNS, ETC. +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY +<BR> +ANTON OTTO FISCHER +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NEW YORK +<BR> +GROSSET & DUNLAP +<BR> +PUBLISHERS +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +Copyright, 1914, +<BR> +BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. +<BR> +<I>All rights reserved.</I> +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<BR> + +<CENTER> + +<TABLE WIDTH="90%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">CHAPTERS</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">WHICH INTRODUCES A LADY AND TWO GENTLEMEN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">HEART, HAND—AND POCKETBOOK</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">"I DO GIVE AND BEQUEATH"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">AN EXPLANATION DEMANDED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">THE WAY OF THE WORLD AT LARGE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">CARIBOO MEADOWS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">A DIFFERENT SORT OF MAN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">IN DEEP WATER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">A LITTLE PERSONAL HISTORY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">WINTER—AND A TRUCE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">THE FIRES OF SPRING</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">THE OUT TRAIL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">THE DRONE OF THE HIVE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">AN ENDING AND A BEGINNING</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">A BRIEF TIME OF PLANNING</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">EN ROUTE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">THE WINTERING PLACE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">FOUR WALLS AND A ROOF</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">BOREAS CHANTS HIS LAY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">JACK FROST WITHDRAWS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">THE STRIKE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">THE STRESS OF THE TRAIL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">NEIGHBORS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">THE DOLLAR CHASERS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26">A BUSINESS PROPOSITION</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27">A BUSINESS JOURNEY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28">THE BOMB</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap29">THE NOTE DISCORDANT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap30">THE AFTERMATH</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap31">A LETTER FROM BILL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap32">THE SPUR</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap33">HOME AGAIN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap34">AFTER MANY DAYS</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +List of Illustrations +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-front"> +"Oh!" she gasped. "Why—it's gold!" . . . . . . <I>Frontispiece</I> +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-104"> +Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, resting one hand +on the muzzle of his grounded rifle +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-150"> +"Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared." +</A> +</H3> + +<H3> +<A HREF="#img-338"> +Bill stood before the fireplace, his shaggy fur cap pushed far back on +his head +</A> +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WHICH INTRODUCES A LADY AND TWO GENTLEMEN +</H3> + +<P> +Dressed in a plain white shirt waist and an equally plain black cloth +skirt, Miss Hazel Weir, on week days, was merely a unit in the office +force of Harrington & Bush, implement manufacturers. Neither in +personality nor in garb would a casual glance have differentiated her +from the other female units, occupied at various desks. A close +observer might have noticed that she was a bit younger than the others, +possessed of a clear skin and large eyes that seemed to hold all the +shades between purple and gray—eyes, moreover, that had not yet begun +to weaken from long application to clerical work. A business office is +no place for a woman to parade her personal charms. The measure of her +worth there is simply the measure of her efficiency at her machine or +ledgers. So that if any member of the firm had been asked what sort of +a girl Miss Hazel Weir might be, he would probably have replied—and +with utmost truth—that Miss Weir was a capable stenographer. +</P> + +<P> +But when Saturday evening released Miss Hazel Weir from the plain brick +office building, she became, until she donned her working clothes at +seven A. M. Monday morning, quite a different sort of a person. In +other words, she chucked the plain shirt waist and the plain skirt into +the discard, got into such a dress as a normal girl of twenty-two +delights to put on, and devoted a half hour or so to "doing" her hair. +Which naturally effected a more or less complete transformation, a +transformation that was subjective as well as purely objective. For +Miss Weir then became an entity at which few persons of either sex +failed to take a second glance. +</P> + +<P> +Upon a certain Saturday night Miss Weir came home from an informal +little party escorted by a young man. They stopped at the front gate. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll be here at ten sharp," said he. "And you get a good beauty sleep +to-night, Hazel. That confounded office! I hate to think of you +drudging away at it. I wish we were ready to—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, bother the office!" she replied lightly. "I don't think of it out +of office hours. Anyway, I don't mind. It doesn't tire me. I <I>will</I> +be ready at ten <I>this</I> time. Good night, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Good night, Hazie," he whispered. "Here's a kiss to dream on." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Weir broke away from him laughingly, ran along the path, and up +the steps, kissed her finger-tips to the lingering figure by the gate, +and went in. +</P> + +<P> +"Bed," she soliloquized, "is the place for me right quickly if I'm +going to be up and dressed and have that lunch ready by ten o'clock. I +wish I weren't such a sleepyhead—or else that I weren't a 'pore +wurrkin' gurl.'" +</P> + +<P> +At which last conceit she laughed softly. Because, for a "pore +wurrkin' gurl," Miss Weir was fairly well content with her lot. She +had no one dependent on her—a state of affairs which, if it +occasionally leads to loneliness, has its compensations. Her salary as +a stenographer amply covered her living expenses, and even permitted +her to put by a few dollars monthly. She had grown up in Granville. +She had her own circle of friends. So that she was comfortable, even +happy, in the present—and Jack Barrow proposed to settle the problem +of her future; with youth's optimism, they two considered it already +settled. Six months more, and there was to be a wedding, a +three-weeks' honeymoon, and a final settling down in a little cottage +on the West Side; everybody in Granville who amounted to anything lived +on the West Side. Then she would have nothing to do but make the home +nest cozy, while Jack kept pace with a real-estate business that was +growing beyond his most sanguine expectations. +</P> + +<P> +She threw her light wraps over the back of a chair, and, standing +before her dresser, took the multitude of pins out of her hair and +tumbled it, a cloudy black mass, about her shoulders. Occupying the +center of the dresser, in a leaning silver frame, stood a picture of +Jack Barrow. She stood looking at it a minute, smiling absently. It +was spring, and her landlady's daughter had set a bunch of wild flowers +in a jar beside the picture. Hazel picked out a daisy and plucked away +the petals one by one. +</P> + +<P> +"He loves me—he loves me not—he loves me—" Her lips formed the +words inaudibly, as countless lips have formed them in love's history, +and the last petal fluttered away at "not." +</P> + +<P> +She smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if that's an omen?" she murmured. "Pshaw! What a silly +idea! I'm going to bed. Good night, Johnny boy." +</P> + +<P> +She kissed her finger-tips to him again across the rooftops all grimed +with a winter's soot, and within fifteen minutes Miss Weir was sound +asleep. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +She gave the lie, for once, to the saying that a woman is never ready +at the appointed time by being on the steps a full ten minutes before +Jack Barrow appeared. They walked to the corner and caught a car, and +in the span of half an hour got off at Granville Park. +</P> + +<P> +The city fathers, hampered in days gone by with lack of municipal +funds, had left the two-hundred-acre square of the park pretty much as +nature made it; that is to say, there was no ornate parking, no attempt +at landscape gardening. Ancient maples spread their crooked arms +untrimmed, standing in haphazard groves. Wherever the greensward +nourished, there grew pink-tipped daisies and kindred flowers of the +wild. It was gutted in the middle with a ravine, the lower end of +which, dammed by an earth embankment, formed a lake with the inevitable +swans and other water-fowl. But, barring the lake and a wide drive +that looped and twined through the timber, Granville Park was a bit of +the old Ontario woodland, and as such afforded a pleasant place to loaf +in the summer months. It was full of secluded nooks, dear to the +hearts of young couples. And upon a Sunday the carriages of the +wealthy affected the smooth drive. +</P> + +<P> +When Jack Barrow and Hazel had finished their lunch under the trees, in +company with a little group of their acquaintances, Hazel gathered +scraps of bread and cake into a paper bag. +</P> + +<P> +Barrow whispered to her: "Let's go down and feed the swans. I'd just +as soon be away from the crowd." +</P> + +<P> +She nodded assent, and they departed hastily lest some of the others +should volunteer their company. It took but a short time to reach the +pond. They found a log close to the water's edge, and, taking a seat +there, tossed morsels to the birds and chattered to each other. +</P> + +<P> +"Look," said Barrow suddenly; "that's us ten years from now." +</P> + +<P> +A carriage passed slowly, a solemn, liveried coachman on the box, a +handsome, smooth-shaven man of thirty-five and a richly gowned woman +leaning back and looking out over the pond with bored eyes. And that +last, the half-cynical, half-contemptuous expression on the two faces, +impressed Hazel Weir far more than the showy equipage, the outward +manifestation of wealth. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope not," she returned impulsively. +</P> + +<P> +"Hope not!" Barrow echoed. "Those people are worth a barrel of money. +Wouldn't you like your own carriage, and servants, and income enough to +have everything you wanted?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," Hazel answered. "But they don't look as if they really +enjoyed it." +</P> + +<P> +"Fiddlesticks!" Barrow smilingly retorted. "Everybody enjoys luxury." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, one should," Hazel admitted. But she still held to the +impression that the couple passing got no such pleasure out of their +material possessions as Jack seemed to think. It was merely an +intuitive divination. She could not have found any basis from which to +argue the point. But she was very sure that she would not have changed +places with the woman in the carriage, and her hand stole out and gave +his a shy little squeeze. +</P> + +<P> +"Look," she murmured; "here's another of the plutocrats. One of my +esteemed employers, if you please. You'll notice that he's walking and +looking at things just like us ordinary, everyday mortals." +</P> + +<P> +Barrow glanced past her, and saw a rather tall, middle-aged man, his +hair tinged with gray, a fine-looking man, dressed with exceeding +nicety, even to a flower in his coat lapel, walking slowly along the +path that bordered the pond. He stopped a few yards beyond them, and +stood idly glancing over the smooth stretch of water, his gloved hands +resting on the knob of a silver-mounted cane. +</P> + +<P> +Presently his gaze wandered to them, and the cool, well-bred stare +gradually gave way to a slightly puzzled expression. He moved a step +or two and seated himself on a bench. Miss Weir became aware that he +was looking at her most of the time as she sat casting the bits of +bread to the swans and ducks. It made her self-conscious. She did not +know why she should be of any particular interest. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's walk around a little," she suggested. The last of the crumbs +were gone. +</P> + +<P> +"All right," Barrow assented. "Let's go up the ravine." +</P> + +<P> +They left the log. Their course up the ravine took them directly past +the gentleman on the bench. And when they came abreast of him, he rose +and lifted his hat at the very slight inclination of Miss Weir's head. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do, Miss Weir?" said he. "Quite a pleasant afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +To the best of Hazel's knowledge, Mr. Andrew Bush was little given to +friendly recognition of his employees, particularly in public. But he +seemed inclined to be talkative; and, as she caught a slightly +inquiring glance at her escort, she made the necessary introduction. +So for a minute or two the three of them stood there exchanging polite +banalities. Then Mr. Bush bowed and passed on. +</P> + +<P> +"He's one of the biggest guns in Granville, they say," Jack observed. +"I wouldn't mind having some of his business to handle. He started +with nothing, too, according to all accounts. Now, that's what I call +success." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, in a business way he's a success," Hazel responded. "But +he's awfully curt most of the time around the office. I wonder what +made him thaw out so to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +And that question recurred to her mind again in the evening, when Jack +had gone home and she was sitting in her own room. She wheeled her +chair around and took a steady look at herself in the mirror. A woman +may never admit extreme plainness of feature, and she may deprecate her +own fairness, if she be possessed of fairness, but she seldom has any +illusions about one or the other. She knows. Hazel Weir knew that she +was far above the average in point of looks. If she had never taken +stock of herself before, the reflection facing her now was sufficient +to leave no room for doubt on the score of beauty. Her skin was +smooth, delicate in texture, and as delicately tinted. The tan pongee +dress she wore set off her dark hair and expressive, bluish-gray eyes. +</P> + +<P> +She was smiling at herself just as she had been smiling at Jack Barrow +while they sat on the log and fed the swans. And she made an amiable +grin at the reflection in the glass. But even though Miss Weir was +twenty-two and far from unsophisticated, it did not strike her that the +transition of herself from a demure, business-like office person in +sober black and white to a radiant creature with the potent influences +of love and spring brightening her eyes and lending a veiled caress to +her every supple movement, satisfactorily accounted for the sudden +friendliness of Mr. Andrew Bush. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HEART, HAND—AND POCKETBOOK +</H3> + + +<P> +Miss Weir was unprepared for what subsequently transpired as a result +of that casual encounter with the managing partner of the firm. By the +time she went to work on Monday morning she had almost forgotten the +meeting in Granville Park. And she was only reminded of it when, at +nine o'clock, Mr. Andrew Bush walked through the office, greeting the +force with his usual curt nod and inclusive "good morning" before he +disappeared behind the ground-glass door lettered "Private." With the +weekday he had apparently resumed his business manner. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel's work consisted largely of dictation from the shipping manager, +letters relating to outgoing consignments of implements. She was rapid +and efficient, and, having reached the zenith of salary paid for such +work, she expected to continue in the same routine until she left +Harrington & Bush for good. +</P> + +<P> +It was, therefore, something of a surprise to be called into the office +of the managing partner on Tuesday afternoon. Bush's private +stenographer sat at her machine in one corner. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Bush turned from his desk at Hazel's entrance. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Weir," he said, "I wish you to take some letters." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel went back for her notebook, wondering mildly why she should be +called upon to shoulder a part of Nelly Morrison's work, and a trifle +dubious at the prospect of facing the rapid-fire dictation Mr. Bush was +said to inflict upon his stenographer now and then. She had the +confidence of long practice, however, and knew that she was equal to +anything in reason that he might give her. +</P> + +<P> +When she was seated, Bush took up a sheaf of letters, and dictated +replies. Though rapid, his enunciation was perfectly clear, and Hazel +found herself getting his words with greater ease than she had expected. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all, Miss Weir," he said, when he reached the last letter. +"Bring those in for verification and signature as soon as you can get +them done." +</P> + +<P> +In the course of time she completed the letters and took them back. +Bush glanced over each, and appended his signature. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all, Miss Weir," he said politely. "Thank you." +</P> + +<P> +And Hazel went back to her machine, wondering why she had been +requested to do those letters when Nelly Morrison had nothing better to +do than sit picking at her type faces with a toothpick. +</P> + +<P> +She learned the significance of it the next morning, however, when the +office boy told her that she was wanted by Mr. Bush. This time when +she entered Nelly Morrison's place was vacant. Bush was going through +his mail. He waved her to a chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Just a minute," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Presently he wheeled from the desk and regarded her with disconcerting +frankness—as if he were appraising her, point by point, so to speak. +</P> + +<P> +"My—ah—dictation to you yesterday was in the nature of a try-out, +Miss Weir," he finally volunteered. "Miss Morrison has asked to be +transferred to our Midland branch. Mr. Allan recommended you. You are +a native of Granville, I understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Hazel answered, wondering what that had to do with the position +Nelly Morrison had vacated. +</P> + +<P> +"In that case you will not likely be desirous of leaving suddenly," he +went on. "The work will not be hard, but I must have some one +dependable and discreet, and careful to avoid errors. I think you will +manage it very nicely if you—ah—have no objection to giving up the +more general work of the office for this. The salary will be +considerably more." +</P> + +<P> +"If you consider that my work will be satisfactory," Miss Weir began. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think there's any doubt on that score. You have a good record +in the office," he interrupted smilingly, and Hazel observed that he +could be a very agreeable and pleasant-speaking gentleman when he +chose—a manner not altogether in keeping with her former knowledge of +him—and she had been with the firm nearly two years. "Now, let us get +to work and clean up this correspondence." +</P> + +<P> +Thus her new duties began. There was an air of quiet in the private +office, a greater luxury of appointment, which suited Miss Hazel Weir +to a nicety. The work was no more difficult than she had been +accustomed to doing—a trifle less in volume, and more exacting in +attention to detail, and necessarily more confidential, for Mr. Andrew +Bush had his finger-tips on the pulsing heart of a big business. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel met Nelly Morrison the next day while on her way home to lunch. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, how goes the new job?" quoth Miss Morrison. +</P> + +<P> +"All right so far," Hazel smiled. "Mr. Bush said you were going to +Midland." +</P> + +<P> +"Leaving for there in the morning," said Nelly. "I've been wanting to +go for a month, but Mr. Bush objected to breaking in a new girl—until +just the other day. I'm sort of sorry to go, too, and I don't suppose +I'll have nearly so good a place. For one thing, I'll not get so much +salary as I had with Mr. Bush. But mamma's living in Midland, and two +of my brothers work there. I'd much rather live at home than room and +live in a trunk. I can have a better time even on less a week." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I hope you get along nicely," Hazel proffered. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I will. Leave that to me," Miss Morrison laughed. "By the way, +what do you think of Mr. Bush, anyway? But of course you haven't had +much to do with him yet. You'll find him awfully nice and polite, but, +my, he can be cutting when he gets irritated! I've known him to do +some awfully mean things in a business way. I wouldn't want to get him +down on me. I think he'd hold a grudge forever." +</P> + +<P> +They walked together until Hazel turned into the street which led to +her boarding place. Nelly Morrison chattered principally of Mr. Bush. +No matter what subject she opened up, she came back to discussion of +her employer. Hazed gathered that she had found him rather exacting, +and also that she was inclined to resent his curt manner. Withal, +Hazel knew Nelly Morrison to be a first-class stenographer, and found +herself wondering how long it would take the managing partner to find +occasion for raking <I>her</I> over the coals. +</P> + +<P> +As the days passed, she began to wonder whether Miss Morrison had been +quite correct in her summing up of Mr. Andrew Bush. She was not a +great deal in his company, for unless attending to the details of +business Mr. Bush kept himself in a smaller office opening out of the +one where she worked. Occasionally the odor of cigar smoke escaped +therefrom, and in that inner sanctum he received his most important +callers. Whenever he was in Miss Weir's presence, however, he +manifested none of the disagreeable characteristics that Nelly Morrison +had ascribed to him. +</P> + +<P> +The size of the check which Hazel received in her weekly envelope was +increased far beyond her expectations. Nelly Morrison had drawn twenty +dollars a week. Miss Hazel Weir drew twenty-five—a substantial +increase over what she had received in the shipping department. And +while she wondered a trifle at the voluntary raising of her salary, it +served to make her anxious to competently fill the new position, so +long as she worked for wages. With that extra money there were plenty +of little things she could get for the home she and Jack Barrow had +planned. +</P> + +<P> +Things moved along in routine channels for two months or more before +Hazel became actively aware that a subtle change was growing manifest +in the ordinary manner of Mr. Andrew Bush. She shrugged her shoulders +at the idea at first. But she was a woman; moreover, a woman of +intelligence, her perceptive faculties naturally keen. +</P> + +<P> +The first symptom was flowers, dainty bouquets of which began to appear +on his desk. Coincident with this, Mr. Bush evinced an inclination to +drift into talk on subjects nowise related to business. Hazel accepted +the tribute to her sex reluctantly, giving him no encouragement to +overstep the normal bounds of cordiality. She was absolutely sure of +herself and of her love for Jack Barrow. Furthermore, Mr. Andrew Bush, +though well preserved, was drawing close to fifty—and she was +twenty-two. That in itself reassured her. If he had been thirty, Miss +Weir might have felt herself upon dubious ground. He admired her as a +woman. She began to realize that. And no woman ever blames a man for +paying her that compliment, no matter what she may say to the contrary. +Particularly when he does not seek to annoy her by his admiration. +</P> + +<P> +So long as Mr. Bush confined himself to affable conversation, to sundry +gifts of hothouse flowers, and only allowed his feelings outlet in +certain telltale glances when he thought she could not see. Hazel felt +disinclined to fly from what was at worst a possibility. +</P> + +<P> +Thus the third month of her tenure drifted by, and beyond the telltale +glances aforesaid, Mr. Bush remained tentatively friendly and nothing +more. Hazel spent her Sundays as she had spent them for a year +past—with Jack Barrow; sometimes rambling afoot in the country or in +the park, sometimes indulging in the luxury of a hired buggy for a +drive. Usually they went alone; occasionally with a party of young +people like themselves. +</P> + +<P> +But Mr. Bush took her breath away at a time and in a manner totally +unexpected. He finished dictating a batch of letters one afternoon, +and sat tapping on his desk with a pencil. Hazel waited a second or +two, expecting him to continue, her eyes on her notes, and at the +unbroken silence she looked up, to find him staring fixedly at her. +There was no mistaking the expression on his face. Hazel flushed and +shrank back involuntarily. She had hoped to avoid that. It could not +be anything but unpleasant. +</P> + +<P> +She had small chance to indulge in reflection, for at her first +self-conscious move he reached swiftly and caught her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Hazel," he said bluntly, "will you marry me?" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Weir gasped. Coming without warning, it dumfounded her. And +while her first natural impulse was to answer a blunt "No," she was +flustered, and so took refuge behind a show of dignity. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Bush!" she protested, and tried to release her hand. +</P> + +<P> +But Mr. Bush had no intention of allowing her to do that. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm in deadly earnest," he said. "I've loved you ever since that +Sunday I saw you in the park feeding the swans. I want you to be my +wife. Will you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm awfully sorry," Hazel stammered. She was just the least bit +frightened. The man who stared at her with burning eyes and spoke to +her in a voice that quivered with emotion was so different from the +calm, repressed individual she had known as her employer. "Why, +you're——" The thing that was uppermost in her mind, and what she +came near saying, was: "You're old enough to be my father." And beside +him there instantly flashed a vision of Jack Barrow. Of course it was +absurd—even though she appreciated the honor. But she did not finish +the sentence that way. "I don't—oh, it's simply impossible. I +couldn't think of such a thing." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" he asked. "I love you. You know that—you can see it, +can't you?" He leaned a little nearer, and forced her to meet his +gaze. "I can make you happy; I can make you love me. I can give you +all that a woman could ask." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but—" +</P> + +<P> +He interrupted her quickly. "Perhaps I've surprised and confused you +by my impulsiveness," he continued. "But I've had no chance to meet +you socially. Sitting here in the office, seeing you day after day, +I've had to hold myself in check. And a man only does that so long, +and no longer. Perhaps right now you don't feel as I do, but I can +teach you to feel that way. I can give you everything—money, social +position, everything that's worth having—and love. I'm not an +empty-headed boy. I can make you love me." +</P> + +<P> +"You couldn't," Hazel answered flatly. There was a note of dominance +in that last statement that jarred on her. Mr. Bush was too sure of +his powers. "And I have no desire to experiment with my feelings as +you suggest—not for all the wealth and social position in the world. +I would have to love a man to think of marrying him—and I do. But you +aren't the man. I appreciate the compliment of your offer, and I'm +sorry to hurt you, but I can't marry you." +</P> + +<P> +He released her hand. Miss Weir found herself suddenly shaky. Not +that she was afraid, or had any cause for fear, but the nervous tension +somehow relaxed when she finished speaking so frankly. +</P> + +<P> +His face clouded. "You are engaged?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +He got up and stood over her. "To some self-centered cub—some puny +egotist in his twenties, who'll make you a slave to his needs and +whims, and discard you for another woman when you've worn out your +youth and beauty," he cried. "But you won't marry him. I won't let +you!" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Weir rose. "I think I shall go home," she said steadily. +</P> + +<P> +"You shall do nothing of the sort! There is no sense in your running +away from me and giving rise to gossip—which will hurt yourself only." +</P> + +<P> +"I am not running away, but I can't stay here and listen to such things +from you. It's impossible, under the circumstances, for me to continue +working here, so I may as well go now." +</P> + +<P> +Bush stepped past her and snapped the latch on the office door. "I +shan't permit it," he said passionately. "Girl, you don't seem to +realize what this means to me. I want you—and I'm going to have you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Please don't be melodramatic, Mr. Bush." +</P> + +<P> +"Melodramatic! If it is melodrama for a man to show a little genuine +feeling, I'm guilty. But I was never more in earnest in my life. I +want a chance to win you. I value you above any woman I have ever met. +Most women that—" +</P> + +<P> +"Most women would jump at the chance," Hazel interrupted. "Well, I'm +not most women. I don't consider myself as a marketable commodity, nor +my looks as an aid to driving a good bargain in a matrimonial way. I +simply don't care for you as you would want me to—and I'm very sure I +never would. And, seeing that you do feel that way, it's better that +we shouldn't be thrown together as we are here. That's why I'm going." +</P> + +<P> +"That is to say, you'll resign because I've told you I care for you and +proposed marriage?" he remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly. It's the only thing to do under the circumstances." +</P> + +<P> +"Give me a chance to show you that I can make you happy," he pleaded. +"Don't leave. Stay here where I can at least see you and speak to you. +I won't annoy you. And you can't tell. After you get over this +surprise you might find yourself liking me better." +</P> + +<P> +"That's just the trouble," Hazel pointed out. "If I were here you +would be bringing this subject up in spite of yourself. And that can +only cause pain. I can't stay." +</P> + +<P> +"I think you had better reconsider that," he said; and a peculiar—an +ugly—light crept into his eyes, "unless you desire to lay yourself +open to being the most-talked-of young woman in this town, where you +were born, where all your friends live. Many disagreeable things might +result." +</P> + +<P> +"That sounds like a threat, Mr. Bush. What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean just what I say. I will admit that mine is, perhaps, a selfish +passion. If you insist on making me suffer, I shall do as much for +you. I believe in paying all debts in full, even with high interest. +There are two characteristics of mine which may not have come to your +attention: I never stop struggling for what I want. And I never +forgive or forget an injury or an insult." +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" Hazel was beginning to see a side of Mr. Andrew Bush hitherto +unsuspected. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he repeated. "If you drive me to it, you will find yourself +drawing the finger of gossip. Also, you will find yourself unable to +secure a position in Granville. Also, you may find yourself losing +the—er—regard of this—ah—fortunate individual upon whom you have +bestowed your affections; but you'll never lose mine," he burst out +wildly. "When you get done butting your head against the wall that +will mysteriously rise in your way, I'll be waiting for you. That's +how I love. I've never failed in anything I ever undertook, and I +don't care how I fight, fair or foul, so that I win." +</P> + +<P> +"This isn't the fifteenth century," Hazel let her indignation flare, +"and I'm not at all afraid of any of the things you mention. Even if +you could possibly bring these things about, it would only make me +despise you, which I'm in a fair way to do now. Even if I weren't +engaged, I'd never think of marrying a man old enough to be my +father—a man whose years haven't given him a sense of either dignity +or decency. Wealth and social position don't modify gray hairs and +advancing age. Your threats are an insult. This isn't the stone age. +Even if it were," she concluded cuttingly, "you'd stand a poor chance +of winning a woman against a man like—well—" She shrugged her +shoulders, but she was thinking of Jack Barrow's broad shoulders, and +the easy way he went up a flight of stairs, three steps at a time. +"Well, any <I>young</I> man." +</P> + +<P> +With that thrust, Miss Hazel Weir turned to the rack where hung her hat +and coat. She was thoroughly angry, and her employment in that office +ended then and there so far as she was concerned. +</P> + +<P> +Bush caught her by the shoulders before she took a second step. +</P> + +<P> +"Gray hairs and advancing age!" he said. "So I strike you as +approaching senility, do I? I'll show you whether I'm the worn-out +specimen you seem to think I am. Do you think I'll give you up just +because I've made you angry? Why, I love you the more for it; it only +makes me the more determined to win you." +</P> + +<P> +"You can't. I dislike you more every second. Take your hands off me, +please. Be a gentleman—if you can." +</P> + +<P> +For answer he caught her up close to him, and there was no sign of +decadent force in the grip of his arms. He kissed her; and Hazel, in +blind rage, freed one arm, and struck at him man fashion, her hand +doubled into a small fist. By the grace of chance, the blow landed on +his nose. There was force enough behind it to draw blood. He stood +back and fumbled for his handkerchief. Something that sounded like an +oath escaped him. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel stared, aghast, astounded. She was not at all sorry; she was +perhaps a trifle ashamed. It seemed unwomanly to strike. But the +humor of the thing appealed to her most strongly of all. In spite of +herself, she smiled as she reached once more for her hat. And this +time Mr. Bush did not attempt to restrain her. +</P> + +<P> +She breathed a sigh of relief when she had gained the street, and she +did not in the least care if her departure during business hours +excited any curiosity in the main office. Moreover, she was doubly +glad to be away from Bush. The expression on his face as he drew back +and stanched his bleeding nose had momentarily chilled her. +</P> + +<P> +"He looked perfectly devilish," she told herself. "My, I loathe that +man! He <I>is</I> dangerous. Marry him? The idea!" +</P> + +<P> +She knew that she must have cut him deeply in a man's tenderest +spot—his self-esteem. But just how well she had gauged the look and +possibilities of Mr. Andrew Bush, Hazel scarcely realized. +</P> + +<P> +"I won't tell Jack," she reflected. "He'd probably want to thrash him. +And that <I>would</I> stir up a lot of horrid talk. Dear me, that's one +experience I don't want repeated. I wonder if he made court to his +first wife in that high-handed, love-me-or-I'll-beat-you-to-death +fashion?" +</P> + +<P> +She laughed when she caught herself scrubbing vigorously with her +handkerchief at the place where his lips had touched her cheek. She +was primitive enough in her instincts to feel a trifle glad of having +retaliated in what her training compelled her to consider a "perfectly +hoydenish" manner. But she could not deny that it had proved +wonderfully effective. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"I DO GIVE AND BEQUEATH" +</H3> + + +<P> +When Jack Barrow called again, which happened to be that very evening, +Hazel told him simply that she had left Harrington & Bush, without +entering into any explanation except the general one that she had found +it impossible to get on with Mr. Bush in her new position. And Jack, +being more concerned with her than with her work, gave the matter scant +consideration. +</P> + +<P> +This was on a Friday. The next forenoon Hazel went downtown. When she +returned, a little before eleven, the maid of all work was putting the +last touches to her room. The girl pointed to an oblong package on a +chair. +</P> + +<P> +"That came for you a little while ago, Miss Weir," she said. "Mr. +Bush's carriage brought it." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Bush's carriage!" Hazel echoed. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes'm. Regular swell turnout, with a footman in brown livery. My, +you could see the girls peeking all along the square when it stopped at +our door. It quite flustered the missus." +</P> + +<P> +The girl lingered a second, curiosity writ large on her countenance. +Plainly she wished to discover what Miss Hazel Weir would be getting in +a package that was delivered in so aristocratic a manner. But Hazel +was in no mood to gratify any one's curiosity. She was angry at the +presumption of Mr. Andrew Bush. It was an excellent way of subjecting +her to remark. And it did not soothe her to recollect that he had +threatened that very thing. +</P> + +<P> +She drew off her gloves, and, laying aside her hat, picked up a +newspaper, and began to read. The girl, with no excuse for lingering, +reluctantly gathered up her broom and dustpan, and departed. When she +was gone, and not till then, Miss Weir investigated the parcel. +</P> + +<P> +Roses—two dozen long-stemmed La Frances—filled the room with their +delicate odor when she removed the pasteboard cover. And set edgewise +among the stems she found his card. Miss Weir turned up her small nose. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if he sends these as a sort of peace offering?" she snorted. +"I wonder if a few hours of reflection has made him realize just how +exceedingly caddish he acted? Well, Mr. Bush, I'll return your +unwelcome gift—though they are beautiful flowers." +</P> + +<P> +And she did forthwith, squandering forty cents on a messenger boy to +deliver them to Mr. Bush at his office. She wished him to labor under +no misapprehension as to her attitude. +</P> + +<P> +The next day—Sunday—she spent with Jack Barrow on a visit to his +cousin in a near-by town. They parted, as was their custom, at the +door. It was still early in the evening—eight-thirty, or +thereabout—and Hazel went into the parlor on the first floor. Mr. +Stout and one of her boarders sat there chatting, and at Hazel's +entrance the landlady greeted her with a startling bit of news: +</P> + +<P> +"Evenin', Miss Weir. 'Ave you 'eard about Mr. Bush, pore gentleman?" +Mrs. Stout was very English. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Bush? No. What about him?" Hazel resented Mr. Bush, his name, +and his affairs being brought to her attention at every turn. She +desired nothing so much since that scene in the office as to ignore his +existence. +</P> + +<P> +"'E was 'urt shockin' bad this awft'noon," Mrs. Stout related. "Out +'orseback ridin', and 'is 'orse ran away with 'im, and fell on 'im. +Fell all of a 'eap, they say. Terrible—terrible! The pore man isn't +expected to live. 'Is back's broke, they say. W'at a pity! Shockin' +accident, indeed." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Weir voiced perfunctory sympathy, as was expected of her, seeing +that she was an employee of the firm—or had been lately. But close +upon that she escaped to her own room. She did not relish sitting +there discussing Mr. Andrew Bush. Hazel lacked nothing of womanly +sympathy, but he had forfeited that from her. +</P> + +<P> +Nevertheless she kept thinking of him long after she went to bed. She +was not at all vindictive, and his misfortune, the fact—if the report +were true—that he was facing his end, stirred her pity. She could +guess that he would suffer more than some men; he would rebel bitterly +against anything savoring of extinction. And she reflected that his +love for her was very likely gone by the board now that he was elected +to go the way of all flesh. +</P> + +<P> +The report of his injury was verified in the morning papers. By +evening it had pretty well passed out of Hazel's mind. She had more +pleasant concerns. Jack Barrow dropped in about six-thirty to ask if +she wanted to go with him to a concert during the week. They were +sitting in the parlor, by a front window, chattering to each other, but +not so engrossed that they failed to notice a carriage drawn by two +splendid grays pull up at the front gate. The footman, in brown +livery, got down and came to the door. Hazel knew the carriage. She +had seen Mr. Andrew Bush abroad in it many a time. She wondered if +there was some further annoyance in store for her, and frowned at the +prospect. +</P> + +<P> +She heard Mrs. Stout answer the bell in person. There was a low mumble +of voices. Then the landlady appeared in the parlor doorway, the +footman behind her. +</P> + +<P> +"This is the lady." Mrs. Stout indicated Hazel. "A message for you, +Miss Weir." +</P> + +<P> +The liveried person bowed and extended an envelope. "I was instructed +to deliver this to you personally," he said, and lingered as if he +looked for further instructions. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel looked at the envelope. She could not understand why, under the +circumstances, any message should come to her through such a medium. +But there was her name inscribed. She glanced up. Mrs. Stout gazed +past the footman with an air of frank anticipation. Jack also was +looking. But the landlady caught Hazel's glance and backed out the +door, and Hazel opened the letter. +</P> + +<P> +The note was brief and to the point: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +MISS WEIR: Mr. Bush, being seriously injured and unable to write, bids +me say that he is very anxious to see you. He sends his carriage to +convey you here. His physicians fear that he will not survive the +night, hence he begs of you to come. Very truly, +<BR><BR> +ETHEL B. WATSON, Nurse in Waiting. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"The idea! Of course I won't! I wouldn't think of such a thing!" +Hazel exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"Just a second," she said to the footman. +</P> + +<P> +Over on the parlor mantel lay some sheets of paper and envelopes. She +borrowed a pencil from Barrow and scribbled a brief refusal. The +footman departed with her answer. Hazel turned to find Jack staring +his puzzlement. +</P> + +<P> +"What did he want?" Barrow asked bluntly. "That was the Bush turnout, +wasn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"You heard about Mr. Bush getting hurt, didn't you?" she inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Saw it in the paper. Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, except that he is supposed to be dying—and he wanted to see +me. At least—well, read the note," Hazel answered. +</P> + +<P> +Barrow glanced over the missive and frowned. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you suppose he wanted to see you for?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"How should I know?" Hazel evaded. +</P> + +<P> +She felt a reluctance to enter into any explanations. That would +necessitate telling the whole story, and she felt some delicacy about +relating it when the man involved lay near to death. Furthermore, Jack +might misunderstand, might blame her. He was inclined to jealousy on +slight grounds, she had discovered before now. Perhaps that, the +natural desire to avoid anything disagreeable coming up between them, +helped constrain her to silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Seems funny," he remarked slowly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, let's forget it." Hazel came and sat down on the couch by him. +"I don't know of any reason why he should want to see me. I wouldn't +go merely out of curiosity to find out. It was certainly a peculiar +request for him to make. But that's no reason why we should let it +bother us. If he's really so badly hurt, the chances are he's out of +his head. Don't scowl at that bit of paper so, Johnnie-boy." +</P> + +<P> +Barrow laughed and kissed her, and the subject was dropped forthwith. +Later they went out for a short walk. In an hour or so Barrow left for +home, promising to have the concert tickets for Thursday night. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel took the note out of her belt and read it again when she reached +her room. Why should he want to see her? She wondered at the man's +persistence. He had insulted her, according to her view of it—doubly +insulted her with threats and an enforced caress. Perhaps he merely +wanted to beg her pardon; she had heard of men doing such things in +their last moments. But she could not conceive of Mr. Andrew Bush +being sorry for anything he did. Her estimate of him was that his only +regret would be over failure to achieve his own ends. He struck her as +being an individual whose own personal desires were paramount. She had +heard vague stories of his tenacity of purpose, his disregard of +anything and everybody but himself. The gossip she had heard and half +forgotten had been recalled and confirmed by her own recent experience +with him. +</P> + +<P> +Nevertheless, she considered that particular episode closed. She +believed that she had convinced him of that. And so she could not +grasp the reason for that eleventh-hour summons. But she could see +that a repetition of such incidents might put her in a queer light. +Other folk might begin to wonder and inquire why Mr. Andrew Bush took +such an "interest" in her—a mere stenographer. Well, she told +herself, she did not care—so long as Jack Barrow's ears were not +assailed by talk. She smiled at that, for she could picture the +reception any scandal peddler would get from <I>him</I>. +</P> + +<P> +The next day's papers contained the obituary of Mr. Andrew Bush. He +had died shortly after midnight. And despite the fact that she held no +grudge, Hazel felt a sense of relief. He was powerless to annoy or +persecute her, and she could not escape the conviction that he would +have attempted both had he lived. +</P> + +<P> +She had now been idle a matter of days. Nearly three months were yet +to elapse before her wedding. She and Barrow had compromised on that +after a deal of discussion. Manlike, he had wished to be married as +soon as she accepted him, and she had held out far a date that would +permit her to accumulate a trousseau according to her means. +</P> + +<P> +"A girl only gets married once, Johnnie-boy," she had declared. "I +don't want to get married so—so offhand, like going out and buying a +pair of gloves or something. Even if I do love you ever so much." +</P> + +<P> +She had gained her point after a lot of argument. There had been no +thought then of her leaving Harrington & Bush so abruptly. Jack had +wanted to get the license as soon as he learned that she had thrown up +her job. But she refused to reset the date. They had made plans for +October. There was so sense in altering those plans. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed scarcely worth while to look for another position. She had +enough money saved to do everything she wanted to do. It was not so +much lack of money, the need to earn, as the monotony of idleness that +irked her. She had acquired the habit of work, and that is a thing not +lightly shaken off. But during that day she gathered together the +different Granville papers, and went carefully over the "want" columns. +Knowing the town as she did, she was enabled to eliminate the unlikely, +undesirable places. Thus by evening she was armed with a list of firms +and individuals requiring a stenographer. And in the morning she +sallied forth. +</P> + +<P> +Her quest ended with the first place she sought. The fact of two +years' service with the biggest firm in Granville was ample +recommendation; in addition to which the office manager, it developed +in their conversation, had known her father in years gone by. So +before ten o'clock Miss Hazel Weir was entered on the pay-roll of a +furniture-manufacturing house. It was not a permanent position; one of +their girls had been taken ill and was likely to take up her duties +again in six weeks or two months. But that suited Hazel all the +better. She could put in the time usefully, and have a breathing spell +before her wedding. +</P> + +<P> +At noon she telephoned Jack Barrow that she was at work again, and she +went straight from lunch to the office grind. +</P> + +<P> +Three days went by. Hazel attended the concert with Jack the evening +of the day Mr. Andrew Bush received ostentatious burial. At ten the +next morning the telephone girl called her. +</P> + +<P> +"Some one wants you on the phone, Miss Weir," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel took up the dangling receiver. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello!" +</P> + +<P> +"That you, Hazel?" +</P> + +<P> +She recognized the voice, half guessing it would be he, since no one +but Jack Barrow would be likely to ring her up. +</P> + +<P> +"Surely. Doesn't it sound like me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Have you seen the morning papers?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. What—" +</P> + +<P> +"Look 'em over. Particularly the <I>Gazette</I>." +</P> + +<P> +The harsh rattle of a receiver slammed back on its hook without even a +"good-by" from him struck her like a slap in the face. She hung up +slowly, and went back to her work. Never since their first meeting, +and they had not been exempt from lovers' quarrels, had Jack Barrow +ever spoken to her like that. Even through the telephone the resentful +note in his voice grated on her and mystified her. +</P> + +<P> +Something in the papers lay at the bottom of it, but she could +comprehend nothing, absolutely nothing, she told herself hotly, that +should make Jack snarl at her like that. His very manner of conveying +the message was maddening, put her up in arms. +</P> + +<P> +She was chained to her work—which, despite her agitation, she managed +to wade through without any radical errors—until noon. The +twelve-to-one intermission gave her opportunity to hurry up the street +and buy a <I>Gazette</I>. Then, instead of going home to her luncheon, she +entered the nearest restaurant. She wanted a chance to read, more than +food. She did not unfold the paper until she was seated. +</P> + +<P> +A column heading on the front page caught her eye. The caption ran: +"Andrew Bush Leaves Money to Stenographer." And under it the subhead: +"Wealthy Manufacturer Makes Peculiar Bequest to Miss Hazel Weir." +</P> + +<P> +The story ran a full column, and had to do with the contents of the +will, made public following his interment. There was a great deal of +matter anent the principal beneficiaries. But that which formed the +basis of the heading was a codicil appended to the will a few hours +before his death, in which he did "give and bequeath to Hazel Weir, +until lately in my employ, the sum of five thousand dollars in +reparation for any wrong I may have done her." +</P> + +<P> +The <I>Gazette</I> had copied that portion verbatim, and used it as a peg +upon which to hang some adroitly worded speculation as to what manner +of wrong Mr. Andrew Bush could have done Miss Hazel Weir. Mr. Bush was +a widower of ten years' standing. He had no children. There was +plenty of room in his life for romance. And wealthy business men who +wrong pretty stenographers are not such an unfamiliar type. The +<I>Gazette</I> inclined to the yellow side of journalism, and it overlooked +nothing that promised a sensation. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel stared at the sheet, and her face burned. She could understand +now why Jack Barrow had hung up his receiver with a slam. She could +picture him reading that suggestive article and gritting his teeth. +Her hands clenched till the knuckles stood white under the smooth skin, +and then quite abruptly she got up and left the restaurant even while a +waiter hurried to take her order. If she had been a man, and versed in +profanity, she could have cursed Andrew Bush till his soul shuddered on +its journey through infinite space. Being a woman, she wished only a +quiet place to cry. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AN EXPLANATION DEMANDED +</H3> + + +<P> +Hazel's pride came to her rescue before she was half-way home. +Instinctively she had turned to that refuge, where she could lock +herself in her own room and cry her protest against it all. But she +had done no wrong, nothing of which to be ashamed, and when the first +shock of the news article wore off, she threw up her head and refused +to consider what the world at large might think. So she went back to +the office at one o'clock and took up her work. Long before evening +she sensed that others had read the <I>Gazette</I>. Not that any one +mentioned it, but sundry curious glances made her painfully aware of +the fact. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Stout evidently was on the watch, for she appeared in the hall +almost as the front door closed behind Hazel. +</P> + +<P> +"How de do, Miss Weir?" she greeted. "My, but you fell into quite a +bit of a fortune, ain't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I only know what the papers say," Hazel returned coldly. +</P> + +<P> +"Just fancy! You didn't know nothing about it?" Mrs. Stout regarded +her with frank curiosity. "There's been two or three gentlemen from +the papers 'ere to-day awskin' for you. Such terrible fellows to quiz +one, they are." +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" Hazel filled in the pause. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I just thought I'd tell you," Mrs. Stout observed, "that they got +precious little out o' <I>me</I>. I ain't the talkin' kind. I told 'em +nothink whatever, you may be sure." +</P> + +<P> +"They're perfectly welcome to learn all that can be learned about me," +Hazel returned quietly. "I don't like newspaper notoriety, but I can't +muzzle the papers, and it's easy for them to get my whole history if +they want it." +</P> + +<P> +She was on the stairs when she finished speaking. She had just reached +the first landing when she heard the telephone bell, and a second or +two later the land-lady called: +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Miss Weir! Telephone." +</P> + +<P> +Barrow's voice hailed her over the line. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll be out by seven," said he. "We had better take a walk. We can't +talk in the parlor; there'll probably be a lot of old tabbies there out +of sheer curiosity." +</P> + +<P> +"All right," Hazel agreed, and hung up. There were one or two +questions she would have liked to ask, but she knew that eager ears +were close by, taking in every word. Anyway, it was better to wait +until she saw him. +</P> + +<P> +She dressed herself. Unconsciously the truly feminine asserted its +dominance—the woman anxious to please and propitiate her lover. She +put on a dainty summer dross, rearranged her hair, powdered away all +trace of the tears that insisted on coming as soon as she reached the +sanctuary of her own room. And then she watched for Jack from a window +that commanded the street. She had eaten nothing since morning, and +the dinner bell rang unheeded. It did not occur to her that she was +hungry; her brain was engrossed with other matters more important by +far than food. +</P> + +<P> +Barrow appeared at last. She went down to meet him before he rang the +bell. Just behind him came a tall man in a gray suit. This individual +turned in at the gate, bestowing a nod upon Barrow and a keen glance at +her as he passed. +</P> + +<P> +"That's Grinell, from the <I>Times</I>," Barrow muttered sourly. "Come on; +let's get away from here. I suppose he's after you for an interview. +Everybody in Granville's talking about that legacy, it seems to me." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel turned in beside him silently. Right at the start she found +herself resenting Barrow's tone, his manner. She had done nothing to +warrant suspicion from him. But she loved him, and she hoped she could +convince him that it was no more than a passing unpleasantness, for +which she was nowise to blame. +</P> + +<P> +"Hang it!" Barrow growled, before they had traversed the first block. +"Here comes Grinell! I suppose that old cat of a landlady pointed us +out. No dodging him now." +</P> + +<P> +"There's no earthly reason why I should dodge him, as you put it," +Hazel replied stiffly. "I'm not an escaped criminal." +</P> + +<P> +Barrow shrugged his shoulders in a way that made Hazel bring her teeth +together and want to shake him. +</P> + +<P> +Grinell by then was hurrying up with long strides. Hat in hand, he +bowed to her. "Miss Hazel Weir, I believe?" he interrogated. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she confirmed. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm on the <I>Times</I>, Miss Weir," Grinell went straight to the business +in hand. "You are aware, I presume, that Mr. Andrew Bush willed you a +sum of money under rather peculiar conditions—that is, the bequest was +worded in a peculiar way. Probably you have seen a reference to it in +the papers. It has caused a great deal of interest. The <I>Times</I> would +be pleased to have a statement from you which will tend to set at rest +the curiosity of the public. Some of the other papers have indulged in +unpleasant innuendo. We would be pleased to publish your side of the +matter. It would be an excellent way for you to quiet the nasty rumors +that are going the rounds." +</P> + +<P> +"I have no statement to make," Hazel said coolly. "I am not in the +least concerned with what the papers print or what the people say. I +absolutely refuse to discuss the matter." +</P> + +<P> +Grinell continued to point out—with the persistence and persuasive +logic of a good newspaper man bent on learning what his paper wants to +know—the desirability of her giving forth a statement. And in the +midst of his argument Hazel bade him a curt "good evening" and walked +on. Barrow kept step with her. Grinell gave it up for a bad job +evidently, for he turned back. +</P> + +<P> +They walked five blocks without a word. Hazel glanced at Barrow now +and then, and observed with an uncomfortable sinking of her heart that +he was sullen, openly resentful, suspicious. +</P> + +<P> +"Johnnie-boy," she said suddenly, "don't look so cross. Surely you +don't blame me because Mr. Bush wills me a sum of money in a way that +makes people wonder?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can't understand it at all," he said slowly. "It's very +peculiar—and deucedly unpleasant. Why should he leave you money at +all? And why should he word the will as he did? What wrong did he +ever do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"None," Hazel answered shortly. His tone wounded her, cut her deep, so +eloquent was it of distrust. "The only wrong he has done me lies in +willing me that money as he did." +</P> + +<P> +"But there's an explanation for that," Barrow declared moodily. +"There's a key to the mystery, and if anybody has it you have. What is +it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Jack," Hazel pleaded, "don't take that tone with me. I can't stand +it—I won't. I'm not a little child to be scolded and browbeaten. +This morning when you telephoned you were almost insulting, and it hurt +me dreadfully. You're angry now, and suspicious. You seem to think I +must have done some dreadful thing. I know what you're thinking. The +<I>Gazette</I> hinted at some 'affair' between me and Mr. Bush; that +possibly that was a sort of left-handed reparation for ruining me. If +that didn't make me angry, it would amuse me—it's so absurd. Haven't +you any faith in me at all? I haven't done anything to be ashamed of. +I've got nothing to conceal." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't conceal it, then," Barrow muttered sulkily. "I've got a right +to know whatever there is to know if I'm going to marry you. You don't +seem to have any idea what this sort of talk that's going around means +to a man." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel stopped short and faced him. Her heart pounded sickeningly, and +hurt pride and rising anger choked her for an instant. But she managed +to speak calmly, perhaps with added calmness by reason of the struggle +she was compelled to make for self-control. +</P> + +<P> +"If you are going to marry me," she repeated, "you have got a right to +know all there is to know. Have I refused to explain? I haven't had +much chance to explain yet. Have I refused to tell you anything? If +you ever thought of anybody beside yourself, you might be asking +yourself how all this talk would affect a girl like me. And, besides, +I think from your manner that you've already condemned me—for what? +Would any reasonable explanation make an impression on you in your +present frame of mind? I don't want to marry you if you can't trust +me. Why, I couldn't—I <I>wouldn't</I>—marry you any time, or any place, +under those conditions, no matter how much I may foolishly care for +you." +</P> + +<P> +"There's just one thing, Hazel," Barrow persisted stubbornly. "There +must have been something between you and Bush. He sent flowers to you, +and I myself saw when he was hurt he sent his carriage to bring you to +his house. And then he leaves you this money. There was something +between you, and I want to know what it was. You're not helping +yourself by getting on your dignity and talking about my not trusting +you instead of explaining these things." +</P> + +<P> +"A short time ago," Hazel told him quietly, "Mr. Bush asked me to marry +him. I refused, of course. He—" +</P> + +<P> +"You refused!" Barrow interrupted cynically. "Most girls would have +jumped at the chance." +</P> + +<P> +"Jack!" she protested. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," Barrow defended, "he was almost a millionaire, and I've got +nothing but my hands and my brain. But suppose you did refuse him. +How does that account for the five thousand dollars?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think," Hazel flung back passionately, "I'll let you find that out +for yourself. You've said enough now to make me hate you almost. Your +very manner's an insult." +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't like my manner—" Barrow retorted stormily. Then he cut +his sentence in two, and glared at her. Her eyes glistened with +slow-welling tears, and she bit nervously at her under Up. Barrow +shrugged his shoulders. The twin devils of jealousy and distrust were +riding him hard, and it flashed over Hazel that in his mind she was +prejudged, and that her explanation, if she made it, would only add +fuel to the flame. Moreover, she stood in open rebellion at being, so +to speak, put on the rack. +</P> + +<P> +She turned abruptly and left him. What did it matter, anyway? She was +too proud to plead, and it was worse than useless to explain. +</P> + +<P> +Even so, womanlike, she listened, expecting to hear Jack's step +hurrying up behind. She could not imagine him letting her go like +that. But he did not come, and when, at a distance of two blocks, she +stole a backward glance, he had disappeared. +</P> + +<P> +She returned to the boarding-house. The parlor door stood wide, and +the curious, quickly averted glance of a girl she knew sent her +quivering up to her room. Safe in that refuge, she sat down by the +window, with her chin on her palms, struggling with the impulse to cry, +protesting with all her young strength against the bitterness that had +come to her through no fault of her own. There was only one cheerful +gleam. She loved Jack Barrow. She believed that he loved her, and she +could not believe—she could not conceive—him capable of keeping +aloof, obdurate and unforgiving, once he got out of the black mood he +was in. Then she could snuggle up close to him and tell him how and +why Mr. Andrew Bush had struck at her from his deathbed. +</P> + +<P> +She was still sitting by the window, watching the yellow crimson of the +sunset, when some one rapped at her door. A uniformed messenger boy +greeted her when she opened it: +</P> + +<P> +"Package for Miss Hazel Weir." +</P> + +<P> +She signed his delivery sheet. The address on the package was in +Jack's handwriting. A box of chocolates, or some little peace +offering, maybe. That was like Jack when he was sorry for anything. +They had quarreled before—over trifles, too. +</P> + +<P> +She opened it hastily. A swift heart sinking followed. In the small +cardboard box rested a folded scarf, and thrust in it a small gold +stickpin—the only thing she had ever given Jack Barrow. There was no +message. She needed none to understand. +</P> + +<P> +The sparkle of the small diamond on her finger drew her gaze. She +worked his ring over the knuckle, and dropped it on the dresser, where +the face in the silver frame smiled up at her. She stared at the +picture for one long minute fixedly, with unchanging expression, and +suddenly she swept it from the dresser with a savage sweep of her hand, +dashed it on the floor, and stamped it shapeless with her slippered +heel. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, oh!" she gasped. "I hate you—I hate you! I despise you!" +</P> + +<P> +And then she flung herself across the bed and sobbed hysterically into +a pillow. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE WAY OF THE WORLD AT LARGE +</H3> + + +<P> +Through the night Hazel dozed fitfully, waking out of uneasy sleep to +lie staring, wide-eyed, into the dark, every nerve in her body taut, +her mind abnormally active. She tried to accept things +philosophically, but her philosophy failed. There was a hurt, the pain +of which she could not ease by any mental process. Grief and anger by +turns mastered her, and at daybreak she rose, heavy-lidded and +physically weary. +</P> + +<P> +The first thing upon which her gaze alighted was the crumpled photo in +its shattered frame; and, sitting on the side of her bed, she laughed +at the sudden fury in which she had destroyed it; but there was no +mirth in her laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"'Would we not shatter it to little bits—and then,'" she murmured. +"No, Mr. John Barrow, I don't believe I'd want to mold you nearer to my +heart's desire. Not after yesterday evening. There's such a thing as +being hurt so badly that one finally gets numb; and one always shrinks +from anything that can deliver such a hurt. Well, it's another day. +And there'll be lots of other days, I suppose." +</P> + +<P> +She gathered up the bits of broken glass and the bent frame, and put +them in a drawer, dressed herself, and went down to breakfast. She was +too deeply engrossed in her own troubles to notice or care whether any +subtle change was becoming manifest in the attitude of her fellow +boarders. The worst, she felt sure, had already overtaken her. In +reaction to the sensitive, shrinking mood of the previous day, a spirit +of defiance had taken possession of her. Figuratively she declared +that the world could go to the devil, and squared her shoulders with +the declaration. +</P> + +<P> +She had a little time to spare, and that time she devoted to making up +a package of Barrow's ring and a few other trinkets which he had given +her. This she addressed to his office and posted while on her way to +work. +</P> + +<P> +She got through the day somehow, struggling against thoughts that would +persist in creeping into her mind and stirring up emotions that she was +determined to hold in check. Work, she knew, was her only salvation. +If she sat idle, thinking, the tears would come in spite of her, and a +horrible, choky feeling in her throat. She set her teeth and thumped +away at her machine, grimly vowing that Jack Barrow nor any other man +should make her heart ache for long. +</P> + +<P> +And so she got through the week. Saturday evening came, and she went +home, dreading Sunday's idleness, with its memories. The people at +Mrs. Stout's establishment, she plainly saw, were growing a trifle shy +of her. She had never been on terms of intimacy with any of them +during her stay there, hence their attitude troubled little after the +first supersensitiveness wore off. But her own friends, girls with +whom she had played in the pinafore-and-pigtail stages of her youth, +young men who had paid court to her until Jack Barrow monopolized +her—she did not know how they stood. She had seen none of them since +Bush launched his last bolt. Barrow she had passed on the street just +once, and when he lifted his hat distantly, she looked straight ahead, +and ignored him. Whether she hurt him as much as she did herself by +the cut direct would be hard to say. +</P> + +<P> +On Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons ordinarily from two to a +dozen girl friends called her up at the boarding-house, or dropped in +by ones and twos to chat a while, tease her about Jack, or plan some +mild frivolity. Hazel went home, wondering if they, too, would stand +aloof. +</P> + +<P> +When Sunday noon arrived, and the phone had failed to call her once, +and not one of all her friends had dropped in, Hazel twisted her chair +so that she could stare at the image of herself in the mirror. +</P> + +<P> +"You're in a fair way to become a pariah, it seems," she said bitterly. +"What have you done, I wonder, that you've lost your lover, and that +Alice and May and Hortense and all the rest of them keep away from you? +Nothing—not a thing—except that your looks attracted a man, and the +man threw stones when he couldn't have his way. Oh, well, what's the +difference? You've got two good hands, and you're not afraid of work." +</P> + +<P> +She walked out to Granville Park after luncheon, and found a seat on a +shaded bench beside the lake. People passed and repassed—couples, +youngsters, old people, children. It made her lonely beyond measure. +She had never been isolated among her own kind before. She could not +remember a time when she had gone to Granville Park by herself. But +she was learning fast to stand on her own feet. +</P> + +<P> +A group of young people came sauntering along the path. Hazel looked +up as they neared her, chattering to each other. Maud Steele and Bud +Wells, and—why, she knew every one of the party. They were swinging +an empty picnic basket, and laughing at everything and nothing. Hazel +caught her breath as they came abreast, not over ten feet away. The +three young men raised their hats self-consciously. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Hazel!" the girl said. +</P> + +<P> +But they passed on. It seemed to Hazel that they quickened their pace +a trifle. It made her grit her teeth in resentful anger. Ten minutes +later she left the park and caught a car home. Once in her room she +broke down. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'll go mad if I stay here and this sort of thing goes on!" she +cried forlornly. +</P> + +<P> +A sudden thought struck her. +</P> + +<P> +"Why <I>should</I> I stay here?" she said aloud. "Why? What's to keep me +here? I can make my living anywhere." +</P> + +<P> +"But, no," she asserted passionately, "I won't run away. That would be +running away, and I haven't anything to be ashamed of. I will <I>not</I> +run." +</P> + +<P> +Still the idea kept recurring to her. It promised relief from the hurt +of averted faces and coolness where she had a right to expect sympathy +and friendship. She had never been more than two hundred miles from +Granville in her life. But she knew that a vast, rich land spread +south and west. She was human and thoroughly feminine; loneliness +appalled her, and she had never suffered as Granville at large was +making her suffer. +</P> + +<P> +The legal notice of the bequest was mailed to her. She tore up the +letter and threw it in the fire as if it were some poisonous thing. +The idea of accepting his money stirred her to a perfect frenzy. That +was piling it up. +</P> + +<P> +All during the next week she worked at her machine in the office of the +furniture company, keeping strictly to herself, doing her work +impassively, efficiently, betraying no sign of the feelings that +sometimes rose up, the despairing protest and angry rebellion against +the dubious position she was in through no fault of her own. She swore +she would not leave Granville, and it galled her to stay. It was a +losing fight, and she knew it even if she did not admit the fact. If +she could have poured the whole miserable tale into some sympathetic +ear she would have felt better, and each day would have seemed less +hard. But there was no such ear. Her friends kept away. +</P> + +<P> +Saturday of the second week her pay envelope contained a brief notice +that the firm no longer required her services. There was no +explanation, only perfunctory regrets; and, truth to tell, Hazel cared +little to know the real cause. Any one of a number of reasons might +have been sufficient. But she realized how those who knew her would +take it, what cause they would ascribe. It did not matter, though. +The very worst, she reasoned, could not be so bad as what had already +happened—could be no more disagreeable than the things she had endured +in the past two weeks. Losing a position was a trifle. But it set her +thinking again. +</P> + +<P> +"It doesn't seem to be a case of flight," she reflected on her way +home, "so much as a case of being frozen out, compelled to go. I can't +stay here and be idle. I have to work in order to live. Well, I'm not +gone yet." +</P> + +<P> +She stopped at a news stand and bought the evening papers. Up in the +top rack of the stand the big heads of an assorted lot of Western +papers caught her eye. She bought two or three on the impulse of the +moment, without any definite purpose except to look them over out of +mere curiosity. With these tucked under her arm, she turned into the +boarding-house gate, ran up the steps, and, upon opening the door, her +ears were gladdened by the first friendly voice she had heard—it +seemed to her—in ages, a voice withal that she had least expected to +hear. A short, plump woman rushed out of the parlor, and precipitated +herself bodily upon Hazel. +</P> + +<P> +"Kitty Ryan! Where in the wide, wide world did you come from?" Hazel +cried. +</P> + +<P> +"From the United States and everywhere," Miss Ryan replied. "Take me +up to your room, dear, where we can talk our heads off. +</P> + +<P> +"And, furthermore, Hazie, I'll be pleased to have you address me as +Mrs. Brooks, my dear young woman," the plump lady laughed, as she +settled herself in a chair in Hazel's room. +</P> + +<P> +"So you're married?" Hazel said. +</P> + +<P> +"I am that," Mrs. Kitty responded emphatically, "to the best boy that +ever drew breath. And so should you be, dear girl. I don't see how +you've escaped so long—a good-looking girl like you. The boys were +always crazy after you. There's nothing like having a good man to take +care of you, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Heaven save me from them!" Hazel answered bitterly. "If you've got a +good one, you're lucky. I can't see them as anything but +self-centered, arrogant, treacherous brutes." +</P> + +<P> +"Lord bless us—it's worse than I thought!" Kitty jumped up and threw +her arms around Hazel. "There, there—don't waste a tear on them. I +know all about it. I came over to see you just as soon as some of the +girls—nasty little cats they are; a woman's always meaner than a man, +dear—just as soon as they gave me an inkling of how things were going +with you. Pshaw! The world's full of good, decent fellows—and you've +got one coming." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope not," Hazel protested. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, you have," Mrs. Brooks smilingly assured her. "A woman +without a man is only half a human being, anyway, you know—and vice +versa. I know. We can cuss the men all we want to, my dear, and some +of us unfortunately have a nasty experience with one now and then. But +we can't get away from the fundamental laws of being." +</P> + +<P> +"If you'd had my experience of the last two weeks you'd sing a +different tune," Hazel vehemently declared. "I hate—I—" +</P> + +<P> +And then she gave way, and indulged in the luxury of turning herself +loose on Kitty's shoulder. Presently she was able to wipe her eyes and +relate the whole story from the Sunday Mr. Bush stopped and spoke to +her in the park down to that evening. +</P> + +<P> +Kitty nodded understandingly. "But the girls have handed it to you +worse than the men, Hazel," she observed sagely. "Jack Barrow was just +plain crazy jealous, and a man like that can't help acting as he did. +You're really fortunate, I think, because you'd not be really happy +with a man like that. But the girls that you and I grew up with—they +should have stood by you, knowing you as they did; yet you see they +were ready to think the worst of you. They nearly always do when +there's a man in the case. That's a weakness of our sex, dear. My, +what a vindictive old Turk that Bush must have been! Well, you aren't +working. Come and stay with me. Hubby's got a two-year contract with +the World Advertising Company. We'll be located here that long at +least. Come and stay with us. We'll show these little-minded folk a +thing or two. Leave it to us." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, I couldn't think of that, Kitty!" Hazel faltered. "You know +I'd love to, and it's awfully good of you, but I think I'm just about +ready to go away from Granville." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, come and stop with us till you do go," Kitty insisted. "We are +going to take a furnished cottage for a while. Though, between you and +me, dear, knowing people as I do, I can't blame you for wanting to be +where their nasty tongues can't wound you." +</P> + +<P> +But Hazel was obdurate. She would not inflict herself on the one +friend she had left. And Kitty, after a short talk, berated her +affectionately for her independence, and rose to go. +</P> + +<P> +"For," said she, "I didn't get hold of this thing till Addie Horton +called at the hotel this afternoon, and I didn't stop to think that it +was near teatime, but came straight here. Jimmie'll think I've eloped. +So ta-ta. I'll come out to-morrow about two. I have to confab with a +house agent in the forenoon. By-by." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel sat down and actually smiled when Kitty was gone. Somehow a +grievous burden had fallen off her mind. Likewise, by some +psychological quirk, the idea of leaving Granville and making her home +elsewhere no longer struck her as running away under fire. She did not +wish to subject Kitty Brooks to the difficulties, the embarrassment +that might arise from having her as a guest; but the mere fact that +Kitty stood stanchly by her made the world seem less harsh and dreary, +made it seem as if she had, in a measure, justified herself. She felt +that she could adventure forth among strangers in a strange country +with a better heart, knowing that Kitty Brooks would put a swift +quietus on any gossip that came her way. +</P> + +<P> +So that Hazel went down to the dining-room light-heartedly, and when +the meal was finished came back and fell to reading her papers. The +first of the Western papers was a Vancouver <I>World</I>. In a real-estate +man's half-page she found a diminutive sketch plan of the city on the +shores of Burrard Inlet, Canada's principal outpost on the far Pacific. +</P> + +<P> +"It's quite a big place," she murmured absently. "One would be far +enough away there, goodness knows." +</P> + +<P> +Then she turned to the "Help Wanted" advertisements. The thing which +impressed her quickly and most vividly was the dearth of demand for +clerks and stenographers, and the repeated calls for domestic help and +such. Domestic service she shrank from except as a last resort. And +down near the bottom of the column she happened on an inquiry for a +school-teacher, female preferred, in an out-of-the-way district in the +interior of the province. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, that—" Hazel thought. +</P> + +<P> +She had a second-class certificate tucked away among her belongings. +Originally it had been her intention to teach, and she had done so one +term in a backwoods school when she was eighteen. With the ending of +the term she had returned to Granville, studied that winter, and got +her second certificate; but at the same time she had taken a +business-college course, and the following June found her clacking a +typewriter at nine dollars a week. And her teacher's diploma had +remained in the bottom of her trunk ever since. +</P> + +<P> +"I could teach, I suppose, by rubbing up a little on one or two +subjects as I went along," she reflected. "I wonder now—" +</P> + +<P> +What she wondered was how much salary she could expect, and she took up +the paper again, and looked carefully for other advertisements calling +for teachers. In the <I>World</I> and in a Winnipeg paper she found one or +two vacancies to fill out the fall term, and gathered that Western +schools paid from fifty to sixty dollars a month for "schoolma'ams" +with certificates such as she held. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" she asked herself. "I've got two resources. If I can't get +office work I can teach. I can do <I>anything</I> if I have to. And it's +far enough away, in all conscience—all of twenty-five hundred miles." +</P> + +<P> +Unaccountably, since Kitty Brooks' visit, she found herself itching to +turn her back on Granville and its unpleasant associations. She did +not attempt to analyze the feeling. Strange lands, and most of all the +West, held alluring promise. She sat in her rocker, and could not help +but dream of places where people were a little broader gauge, a little +less prone to narrow, conventional judgments. Other people had done as +she proposed doing—cut loose from their established environment, and +made a fresh start in countries where none knew or cared whence they +came or who they were. Why not she? One thing was certain: Granville, +for all she had been born there, and grown to womanhood there, was now +no place for her. The very people who knew her best would make her +suffer most. +</P> + +<P> +She spent that evening going thoroughly over the papers and writing +letters to various school boards, taking a chance at one or two she +found in the Manitoba paper, but centering her hopes on the country +west of the Rockies. Her letters finished, she took stock of her +resources—verified them, rather, for she had not so much money that +she did not know almost where she stood. Her savings in the bank +amounted to three hundred odd dollars, and cash in hand brought the sum +to a total of three hundred and sixty-five. At any rate, she had +sufficient to insure her living for quite a long time. And she went to +bed feeling better than she had felt for two weeks. +</P> + +<P> +Kitty Brooks came again the next afternoon, and, being a young woman of +wide experience and good sense, made no further attempt to influence +Hazel one way or the other. +</P> + +<P> +"I hate to see you go, though," she remarked truthfully. "But you'll +like the West—if it happens that you go there. You'll like it better +than the East; there's a different sort of spirit among the people. +I've traveled over some of it, and if Jimmie's business permitted we'd +both like to live there. And—getting down to strictly practical +things—a girl can make a much better living there. Wages are high. +And—who knows?—you might capture a cattle king." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel shrugged her shoulders, and Mrs. Kitty forbore teasing. After +that they gossiped and compared notes covering the two years since they +had met until it was time for Kitty to go home. +</P> + +<P> +Very shortly thereafter—almost, it seemed, by return mail—Hazel got +replies to her letters of inquiry. The fact that each and every one +seemed bent on securing her services astonished her. +</P> + +<P> +"Schoolma'ams must certainly be scarce out there," she told herself. +"This is an embarrassment of riches. I'm going somewhere, but which +place shall it be?" +</P> + +<P> +But the reply from Cariboo Meadows, B. C., the first place she had +thought of, decided her. The member of the school board who replied +held forth the natural beauty of the country as much as he did the +advantages of the position. The thing that perhaps made the strongest +appeal to Hazel was a little kodak print inclosed in the letter, +showing the schoolhouse. +</P> + +<P> +The building itself was primitive enough, of logs, with a pole-and-sod +roof. But it was the huge background, the timbered mountains rising to +snow-clad heights against a cloudless sky, that attracted her. She had +never seen a greater height of land than the rolling hills of Ontario. +Here was a frontier, big and new and raw, holding out to her as she +stared at the print a promise—of what? She did not know. Adventure? +If she desired adventure, it was purely a subconscious desire. But she +had lived in a rut a long time without realizing it more than vaguely, +and there was something in her nature that responded instantly when she +contemplated journeying alone into a far country. She found herself +hungering for change, for a measure of freedom from petty restraints, +for elbow-room in the wide spaces, where one's neighbor might be ten or +forty miles away. She knew nothing whatever of such a life, but she +could feel a certain envy of those who led it. +</P> + +<P> +She sat for a long time looking at the picture, thinking. Here was the +concrete, visible presentment of something that drew her strongly. She +found an atlas, and looked up Cariboo Meadows on the map. It was not +to be found, and Hazel judged it to be a purely local name. But the +letter told her that she would have to stage it a hundred and +sixty-five miles north from Ashcroft, B. C., where the writer would +meet her and drive her to the Meadows. She located the stage-line +terminal on the map, and ran her forefinger over the route. Mountain +and lake and stream lined and dotted and criss-crossed the province +from end to end of its seven-hundred-mile length. Back of where +Cariboo Meadows should be three or four mining camps snuggled high in +the mountains. +</P> + +<P> +"What a country!" she whispered. "It's wild; really, truly wild; and +everything I've ever seen has been tamed and smoothed down, and made +eminently respectable and conventional long ago. That's the place. +That's where I'm going, and I'm going it blind. I'm not going to tell +any one—not even Kitty—until, like a bear, I've gone over the +mountain to see what I can see." +</P> + +<P> +Within an hour of that Miss Hazel Weir had written to accept the terms +offered by the Cariboo Meadow school district, and was busily packing +her trunk. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CARIBOO MEADOWS +</H3> + + +<P> +A tall man, sunburned, slow-speaking, met Hazel at Soda Creek, the end +of her stage journey, introducing himself as Jim Briggs. +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty tiresome trip, ain't it?" he observed. "You'll have a chance +to rest decent to-night, and I got a team uh bays that'll yank yuh to +the Meadows in four hours 'n' a half. My wife'll be plumb tickled to +have yuh. They ain't much more'n half a dozen white women in ten miles +uh the Meadows. We keep a boardin'-house. Hope you'll like the +country." +</P> + +<P> +That was a lengthy speech for Jim Briggs, as Hazel discovered when she +rolled out of Soda Creek behind the "team uh bays." His conversation +was decidedly monosyllabic. But he could drive, if he was no talker, +and his team could travel. The road, albeit rough in spots, a mere +track through timber and little gems of open where the yellowing grass +waved knee-high, and over hills which sloped to deep cañons lined with +pine and spruce, seemed short enough. And so by eleven o'clock Hazel +found herself at Cariboo Meadows. +</P> + +<P> +"Schoolhouse's over yonder." Briggs pointed out the place—an +unnecessary guidance, for Hazel had already marked the building set off +by itself and fortified with a tall flagpole. "And here's where we +live. Kinda out uh the world, but blame good place to live." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel did like the place. Her first impression was thankfulness that +her lot had been cast in such a spot. But it was largely because of +the surroundings, essentially primitive, the clean air, guiltless of +smoke taint, the aromatic odors from the forest that ranged for +unending miles on every hand. For the first time in her life, she was +beyond hearing of the clang of street cars, the roar of traffic, the +dirt and smells of a city. It seemed good. She had no regrets, no +longing to be back. There was a pain sometimes, when in spite of +herself she would fall to thinking of Jack Barrow. But that she looked +upon as a closed chapter. He had hurt her where a woman can be most +deeply wounded—in her pride and her affections—and the hurt was +dulled by the smoldering resentment that thinking of him always fanned +to a flame. Miss Hazel Weir was neither meek nor mild, even if her +environment had bred in her a repression that had become second nature. +</P> + +<P> +So with the charm of the wild land fresh upon her, she took kindly to +Cariboo Meadows. The immediate, disagreeable past bade fair to become +as remote in reality as the distance made it seem. Surely no ghosts +would walk here to make people look askance at her. +</P> + +<P> +Her first afternoon she spent loafing on the porch of the Briggs +domicile, within which Mrs. Briggs, a fat, good-natured person of +forty, toiled at her cooking for the "boarders," and kept a brood of +five tumultuous youngsters in order—the combined tasks leaving her +scant time to entertain her newly arrived guest. From the vantage +ground of the porch Hazel got her first glimpse of the turns life +occasionally takes when there is no policeman just around the corner. +</P> + +<P> +Cariboo Meadows, as a town, was simply a double row of buildings facing +each other across a wagon road. Two stores, a blacksmith shop, a feed +stable, certain other nondescript buildings, and a few dwellings, +mostly of logs, was all. Probably not more than a total of fifty souls +made permanent residence there. But the teams of ranchers stood in the +street, and a few saddled cow ponies whose listlessness was mostly +assumed. Before one of the general stores a prospector fussed with a +string of pack horses. Directly opposite Briggs' boarding-house stood +a building labeled "Regent Hotel." Hazel could envisage it all with a +half turn of her head. +</P> + +<P> +From this hotel there presently issued a young man dressed in the +ordinary costume of the country—wide hat, flannel shirt, overalls, +boots. He sat down on a box close by the hotel entrance. In a few +minutes another came forth. He walked past the first a few steps, +stopped, and said something. Hazel could not hear the words. The +first man was filling a pipe. Apparently he made no reply; at least, +he did not trouble to look up. But she saw his shoulders lift in a +shrug. Then he who had passed turned square about and spoke again, +this time lifting his voice a trifle. The young fellow sitting on the +box instantly became galvanized into action. He flung out an oath that +carried across the street and made Hazel's ears burn. At the same time +he leaped from his seat straight at the other man. Hazel saw it quite +distinctly, saw him who jumped dodge a vicious blow and close with the +other; and saw, moreover, something which amazed her. For the young +fellow swayed with his adversary a second or two, then lifted him +bodily off his feet almost to the level of his head, and slammed him +against the hotel wall with a sudden twist. She heard the thump of the +body on the logs. For an instant she thought him about to jump with +his booted feet on the prostrate form, and involuntarily she held her +breath. But he stepped back, and when the other scrambled up, he +side-stepped the first rush, and knocked the man down again with a blow +of his fist. This time he stayed down. Then other men—three or four +of them—came out of the hotel, stood uncertainly a few seconds, and +Hazel heard the young fellow say: +</P> + +<P> +"Better take that fool in and bring him to. If he's still hungry for +trouble, I'll be right handy. I wonder how many more of you fellers +I'll have to lick before you'll get wise enough not to start things you +can't stop?" +</P> + +<P> +They supported the unconscious man through the doorway; the young +fellow resumed his seat on the box, also his pipe filling. +</P> + +<P> +"Roarin' Bill's goin' to get himself killed one uh these days." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel started, but it was only Jim Briggs in the doorway beside her. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess you ain't much used to seein' that sort of exhibition where +you come from, Miss Weir," Briggs' wife put in over his shoulder. "My +land, it's disgustin'—men fightin' in the street where everybody can +see 'em. Thank goodness, it don't happen very often. 'Specially when +Bill Wagstaff ain't around. You ain't shocked, are you, honey?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I didn't have time to be shocked," Hazel laughed. "It was done +so quickly." +</P> + +<P> +"If them fellers would leave Bill alone," Briggs remarked, "there +wouldn't be no fight. But he goes off like a hair-trigger gun, and +he'd scrap a dozen quick as one. I'm lookin' to see his finish one uh +these days." +</P> + +<P> +"What a name!" Hazel observed, caught by the appellation Briggs had +first used. "Is that Roaring Bill over there?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's him—Roarin' Bill Wagstaff," Briggs answered. "If he takes a +few drinks, you'll find out to-night how he got the name. Sings—just +like a bull moose—hear him all over town. Probably whip two or three +men before mornin'." +</P> + +<P> +His spouse calling him at that moment, Briggs detailed no more +information about Roaring Bill. And Hazel sat looking across the way +with considerable interest at the specimen of a type which hitherto she +had encountered in the pages of fiction—a fighting man, what the West +called a "bad actor." She had, however, no wish for closer study of +that particular type. The men of her world had been altogether +different, and the few frontier specimens she had met at the Briggs' +dinner table had not impressed her with anything except their shyness +and manifest awkwardness in her presence. The West itself appealed to +her, its bigness, its nearness to the absolutely primeval, but not the +people she had so far met. They were not wrapped in a glamor of +romance; she was altogether too keen to idealize them. They were not +her kind, and while she granted their worth, they were more picturesque +about their own affairs than when she came in close contact with them. +Those were her first impressions. And so she looked at Roaring Bill +Wagstaff, over the way, with a quite impersonal interest. +</P> + +<P> +He came into Briggs' place for supper. Mrs. Briggs was her own +waitress. Briggs himself sat beside Hazel. She heard him grunt, and +saw a mild look of surprise flit over his countenance when Roaring Bill +walked in and coolly took a seat. But not until Hazel glanced at the +newcomer did she recognize him as the man who had fought in the street. +He was looking straight at her when she did glance up, and the mingled +astonishment and frank admiration in his clear gray eyes made Hazel +drop hers quickly to her plate. Since Mr. Andrew Bush, she was +beginning to hate men who looked at her that way. And she could not +help seeing that many did so look. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill ate his supper in silence. No one spoke to him, and he +addressed no one except to ask that certain dishes be passed. Among +the others conversation was general. Hazel noticed that, and wondered +why—wondered if Roaring Bill was taboo. She had sensed enough of the +Western point of view to know that the West held nothing against a man +who was quick to blows—rather admired such a one, in fact. And her +conclusions were not complimentary to Mr. Bill Wagstaff. If people +avoided him in that country, he must be a very hard citizen indeed. +And Hazel no more than formulated this opinion than she was ashamed of +it, having her own recent experience in mind. Whereupon she dismissed +Bill Wagstaff from her thoughts altogether when she left the table. +</P> + +<P> +Exactly three days later Hazel came into the dining-room at noon, and +there received her first lesson in the truth that this world is a very +small place, after all. A nattily dressed gentleman seated to one side +of her place at table rose with the most polite bows and extended hand. +Hazel recognized him at a glance as Mr. Howard Perkins, traveling +salesman for Harrington & Bush. She had met him several times in the +company offices. She was anything save joyful at the meeting, but +after the first unwelcome surprise she reflected that it was scarcely +strange that a link in her past life should turn up here, for she knew +that in the very nature of things a firm manufacturing agricultural +implements would have its men drumming up trade on the very edge of the +frontier. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Perkins was tolerably young, good looking, talkative, apparently +glad to meet some one from home. He joined her on the porch for a +minute when the meal was over. And he succeeded in putting Hazel +unqualifiedly at her ease so far as he was concerned. If he had heard +any Granville gossip, if he knew why she had left Granville, it +evidently cut no figure with him. As a consequence, while she was +simply polite and negatively friendly, deep in her heart Hazel felt a +pleasant reaction from the disagreeable things for which Granville +stood; and, though she nursed both resentment and distrust against men +in general, it did not seem to apply to Mr. Perkins. Anyway, he was +here to-day, and on the morrow he would be gone. +</P> + +<P> +Being a healthy, normal young person, Hazel enjoyed his company without +being fully aware of the fact. So much for natural gregariousness. +Furthermore, Mr. Perkins in his business had been pretty much +everywhere on the North American continent, and he knew how to set +forth his various experiences. Most women would have found him +interesting, particularly in a community isolated as Cariboo Meadows, +where tailored clothes and starched collars seemed unknown, and every +man was his own barber—at infrequent intervals. +</P> + +<P> +So Hazel found it quite natural to be chatting with him on the Briggs' +porch when her school work ended at three-thirty in the afternoon. It +transpired that Mr. Perkins, like herself, had an appreciation of the +scenic beauties, and also the picturesque phases of life as it ran in +the Cariboo country. They talked of many things, discussed life in a +city as compared with existence in the wild, and were agreed that both +had desirable features—and drawbacks. Finally Mr. Perkins proposed a +walk up on a three-hundred-foot knoll that sloped from the back door, +so to speak, of Cariboo Meadows. Hazel got her hat, and they set out. +She had climbed that hill by herself, and she knew that it commanded a +great sweep of the rolling land to the west. +</P> + +<P> +They reached the top in a few minutes, and found a seat on a dead tree +trunk. Mr. Perkins was properly impressed with the outlook. But +before very long he seemed to suffer a relaxation of his interest in +the view and a corresponding increase of attention to his companion. +Hazel recognized the symptoms. At first it amused, then it irritated +her. The playful familiarity of Mr. Perkins suddenly got on her nerves. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I shall go down," she said abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I say, now, there's no hurry," Perkins responded smilingly. +</P> + +<P> +But she was already rising from her seat, and Mr. Perkins, very likely +gauging his action according to his experience in other such +situations, did an utterly foolish thing. He caught her as she rose, +and laughingly tried to kiss her. Whereupon he discovered that he had +caught a tartar, for Hazel slapped him with all the force she could +muster—which was considerable, judging by the flaming red spot which +the smack of her palm left on his smooth-shaven cheek. But he did not +seem to mind that. Probably he had been slapped before, and regarded +it as part of the game. He attempted to draw her closer. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, you're a regular scrapper," he smiled. "Now, I'm sure you didn't +cuff Bush that way." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel jerked loose from his grip in a perfect fury, using at the same +time the weapons nature gave her according to her strength, whereby Mr. +Perkins suffered sundry small bruises, which were as nothing to the +bruises his conceit suffered. For, being free of him, Hazel stood her +ground long enough to tell him that he was a cad, a coward, an ill-bred +nincompoop, and other epithets grievous to masculine vanity. With that +she fled incontinently down the hill, furious, shamed almost to tears, +and wishing fervently that she had the muscle of a man to requite the +insult as it deserved. To cap the climax, Mrs. Briggs, who had seen +the two depart, observed her return alone, and, with a curious look, +asked jokingly: +</P> + +<P> +"Did you lose the young man in the timber?" +</P> + +<P> +And Hazel, being keyed to a fearful pitch, unwisely snapped back: +</P> + +<P> +"I hope so." +</P> + +<P> +Which caused Mrs. Briggs' gaze to follow her wonderingly as she went +hastily to her own room. +</P> + +<P> +Like other mean souls of similar pattern, it suited Mr. Perkins to seek +revenge in the only way possible—by confidentially relating to divers +individuals during that evening the Granville episode in the new +teacher's career. At least, Hazel guessed he must have told the tale +of that ambiguously worded bequest and the subsequent gossip, for as +early as the next day she caught certain of Jim Briggs' boarders +looking at her with an interest they had not heretofore displayed—or, +rather, it should be said, with a <I>different</I> sort of interest. They +were discussing her. She could not know it positively, but she felt it. +</P> + +<P> +The feeling grew to certainty after Perkins' departure that day. There +was a different atmosphere. Probably, she reflected, he had thrown in +a few embellishments of his own for good measure. She felt a tigerish +impulse to choke him. But she was proud, and she carried her head in +the air, and, in effect, told Cariboo Meadows to believe as it pleased +and act as it pleased. They could do no more than cut her and cause +her to lose her school. She managed to keep up an air of cool +indifference that gave no hint of the despairing protest that surged +close to the surface. Individually and collectively, she reiterated to +herself, she despised men. Her resentment had not yet extended to the +women of Cariboo Meadows. They were mostly too busy with their work to +be much in the foreground. She did observe, or thought she observed, a +certain coolness in Mrs. Briggs' manner—a sort of suspended judgment. +</P> + +<P> +In the meantime, she labored diligently at her appointed task of +drilling knowledge into the heads of a dozen youngsters. From nine +until three-thirty she had that to occupy her mind to the exclusion of +more troublesome things. When school work for the day ended, she went +to her room, or sat on the porch, or took solitary rambles in the +immediate vicinity, avoiding the male contingent as she would have +avoided contagious disease. Never, never, she vowed, would she trust +another man as far as she could throw him. +</P> + +<P> +The first Saturday after the Perkins incident, Hazel went for a tramp +in the afternoon. She avoided the little hill close at hand. It left +a bad taste in her mouth to look at the spot. This was foolish, and +she realized that it was foolish, but she could not help the +feeling—the insult was still too fresh in her mind. So she skirted +its base and ranged farther afield. The few walks she had taken had +lulled all sense of uneasiness in venturing into the infolding forest. +She felt that those shadowy woods were less sinister than man. And +since she had always kept her sense of direction and come straight to +the Meadows whenever she went abroad, she had no fear or thought of +losing her way. +</P> + +<P> +A mile or so distant a bare spot high on a wooded ridge struck her as a +likely place to get an unobstructed view. To reach some height and sit +in peace, staring out over far-spreading vistas, contented her. She +could put away the unpleasantness of the immediate past, discount the +possible sordidness of the future, and lose herself in dreams. +</P> + +<P> +To reach her objective point, she crossed a long stretch of rolling +land, well timbered, dense in parts with thickets of berry bushes. +Midway in this she came upon a little brook, purring a monotone as it +crawled over pebbled reaches and bathed the tangled roots of trees +along its brink. By this she sat a while. Then she idled along, +coming after considerable difficulty to abruptly rising ground. Though +in the midst of timber the sun failed to penetrate, she could always +see it through the branches and so gauge her line of travel. On the +hillside it was easier, for the forest thinned out. Eventually she +gained a considerable height, and while she failed to reach the opening +seen from the Meadows, she found another that served as well. The sun +warmed it, and the sun rays were pleasant to bask in, for autumn drew +close, and there was a coolness in the shade even at noon. She could +not see the town, but she could mark the low hills behind it. At any +rate, she knew where it lay, and the way back. +</P> + +<P> +So she thought. But the short afternoon fled, and, warned by the low +dip of the sun, she left her nook on the hillside to make her way home. +Though it was near sundown, she felt no particular concern. The long +northern twilight gave her ample time to cover the distance. +</P> + +<P> +But once down on the rolling land, among the close-ranked trees, she +began to experience a difficulty that had not hitherto troubled her. +With the sun hanging low, she lost her absolute certainty of east and +west, north and south. The forest seemed suddenly to grow confusingly +dim and gloomier, almost menacing in its uncanny evening silence. The +birds were hushed, and the wind. +</P> + +<P> +She blundered on, not admitting to herself the possibility of being +unable to find Cariboo Meadows. As best she could, and to the best of +her belief, she held in a straight line for the town. But she walked +far enough to have overrun it, and was yet upon unfamiliar ground. The +twilight deepened. The sky above showed turquoise blue between the +tall tree-tops, but the woods themselves grew blurred, dusky at a +little distance ahead. Even to a seasoned woodsman, twilight in a +timbered country that he does not know brings confusion; uncertainty +leads him far wide of his mark. Hazel, all unused to woods travel, +hurried the more, uneasy with the growing conviction that she had gone +astray. +</P> + +<P> +The shadows deepened until she tripped over roots and stones, and +snagged her hair and clothing on branches she could not see in time to +fend off. As a last resort, she turned straight for the light patch +still showing in the northwest, hoping thus to cross the wagon road +that ran from Soda Creek to the Meadows—it lay west, and she had gone +northeast from town. And as she hurried, a fear began to tug at her +that she had passed the Meadows unknowingly. If she could only cross a +trail—trails always led somewhere, and she was going it blind. The +immensity of the unpeopled areas she had been looking out over for a +week appalled her. +</P> + +<P> +Presently it was dark, and darkness in the woods is the darkness of the +pit itself. She found a fallen tree, and climbed on it to rest and +think. Night in gloomy places brings an eerie feeling sometimes to the +bravest—dormant sense impressions, running back to the cave age and +beyond, become active, harry the mind with subtle, unreasoning +qualms—and she was a girl, brave enough, but out of the only +environment she knew how to grapple with. All the fearsome tales of +forest beasts she had ever heard rose up to harass her. She had not +lifted up her voice while it was light because she was not the timid +soul that cries in the face of a threatened danger. Also because she +would not then admit the possibility of getting lost. And now she was +afraid to call. She huddled on the log, shuddering with the growing +chill of the night air, partly with dread of the long, black night +itself that walled her in. She had no matches to light a fire. +</P> + +<P> +After what seemed an age, she fancied she saw a gleam far distant in +the timber. She watched the spot fixedly, and thought she saw the +faint reflection of a light. That heartened her. She advanced toward +it, hoping that it might be the gleam of a ranch window. Her progress +was slow. She blundered over the litter of a forest floor, tripping +over unseen obstacles. But ten minutes established beyond peradventure +the fact that it was indeed a light. Whether a house light or the +reflection of a camp fire she was not woodwise enough to tell. But a +fire must mean human beings of one sort or another, and thereby a means +to reach home. +</P> + +<P> +She kept on. The wavering gleam came from behind a thicket—an open +fire, she saw at length. Beyond the fire she heard a horse sneeze. +Within a few yards of the thicket through which wavered the yellow +gleam she halted, smitten with a sudden panic. This endured but a few +seconds. All that she knew or had been told of frontier men reassured +her. She had found them to a man courteous, awkwardly considerate. +And she could not wander about all night. +</P> + +<P> +She moved cautiously, however, to the edge of the thicket, to a point +where she could see the fire. A man sat humped over the glowing +embers, whereon sizzled a piece of meat. His head was bent forward, as +if he were listening. Suddenly he looked up, and she gasped—for the +firelight showed the features of Roaring Bill Wagstaff. +</P> + +<P> +She was afraid of him. Why she did not know nor stop to reason. But +her fear of him was greater than her fear of the pitch-black night and +the unknown dangers of the forest. She turned to retreat. In the same +instant Roaring Bill reached to his rifle and stood up. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold on there!" he said coolly. "You've had a look at me—I want a +look at you, old feller, whoever you are. Come on—show yourself." +</P> + +<P> +He stepped sidewise out of the light as he spoke. Hazel started to +run. The crack of a branch under foot betrayed her, and he closed in +before she took three steps. He caught her rudely by the arm, and +yanked her bodily into the firelight. +</P> + +<P> +"Well—for the—love of—Mike!" +</P> + +<P> +Wagstaff drawled the exclamation out in a rising crescendo of +astonishment. Then he laid his gun down across a roll of bedding, and +stood looking at her in speechless wonder. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A DIFFERENT SORT OF MAN +</H3> + + +<P> +"For the love of Mike!" Roaring Bill said again. "What are you doing +wandering around in the woods at night? Good Lord! Your teeth are +chattering. Sit down here and get warm. It is sort of chilly." +</P> + +<P> +Even in her fear, born of the night, the circumstances, and partly of +the man, Hazel noticed that his speech was of a different order from +that to which she had been listening the past ten days. His +enunciation was perfect. He dropped no word endings, nor slurred his +syllables. And cast in so odd a mold is the mind of civilized woman +that the small matter of a little refinement of speech put Hazel Weir +more at her ease than a volume of explanation or protest on his part +would have done. She had pictured him a ruffian in thought, speech, +and deed. His language cleared him on one count, and she observed that +almost his first thought was for her comfort, albeit he made no sort of +apology for handling her so roughly in the gloom beyond the fire. +</P> + +<P> +"I got lost," she explained, growing suddenly calm. "I was out +walking, and lost my way." +</P> + +<P> +"Easy thing to do when you don't know timber," Bill remarked. "And in +consequence you haven't had any supper; you've been scared almost to +death—and probably all of Cariboo Meadows is out looking for you. +Well, you've had an adventure. That's worth something. Better eat a +bite, and you'll feel better." +</P> + +<P> +He turned over the piece of meat on the coals while he spoke. Hazel +saw that it lay on two green sticks, like a steak on a gridiron. It +was quite simple, but she would never have thought of that. The meat +exhaled savory odors. Also, the warmth of the fire seemed good. But— +</P> + +<P> +"I'd rather be home," she confessed. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure! I guess you would—naturally. I'll see that you get there, +though it won't be easy. It's no snap to travel these woods in the +dark. You couldn't have been so far from the Meadows. How did it come +you didn't yell once in a while?" +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't think it was necessary," Hazel admitted, "until it began to +get dark. And then I didn't like to." +</P> + +<P> +"You got afraid," Roaring Bill supplied. "Well, it does sound creepy +to holler in the timber after night. I know how that goes. I've made +noises after night that scared myself." +</P> + +<P> +He dug some utensils out of his pack layout—two plates, knife, fork, +and spoons, and laid them by the fire. Opposite the meat a pot of +water bubbled. Roaring Bill produced a small tin bucket, black with +the smoke of many an open fire, and a package, and made coffee. Then +he spread a canvas sheet, and laid on that bread, butter, salt, a jar +of preserved fruit. +</P> + +<P> +"How far is it to Cariboo Meadows?" Hazel asked. +</P> + +<P> +Bill looked up from his supper preparations. +</P> + +<P> +"You've got me," he returned carelessly. "Probably four or five miles. +I'm not positive; I've been running in circles myself this afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +"Good heavens!" Hazel exclaimed. "But you know the way?" +</P> + +<P> +"Like a book—in the daytime," he replied. "But night in the timber is +another story, as you've just been finding out for yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought men accustomed to the wilderness could always find their way +about, day or night," Hazel observed tartly. +</P> + +<P> +"They can—in stories," Bill answered dryly. +</P> + +<P> +He resumed his arranging of the food while she digested this. +Presently he sat down beside the fire, and while he turned the meat +with a forked stick, came back to the subject again. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, I'm away off any trail here," he said, "and it's all woods, +with only a little patch of open here and there. It's pure accident I +happen to be here at all; accident which comes of unadulterated +cussedness on the part of one of my horses. I left the Meadows at +noon, and Nigger—that's this confounded cayuse of mine—he had to get +scared and take to the brush. He got plumb away from me, and I had to +track him. I didn't come up with him till dusk, and then the first +good place I struck, which was here, I made camp. I was all for +catching that horse, so I didn't pay much attention to where I was +going. Didn't need to, because I know the country well enough to get +anywhere in daylight, and I'm fixed to camp wherever night overtakes +me. So I'm not dead sure of my ground. But you don't need to worry on +that account. I'll get you home all right. Only it'll be mean +traveling—and slow—unless we happen to bump into some of those +fellows out looking for you. They'd surely start out when you didn't +come home at dusk; they know it isn't any joke for a girl to get lost +in these woods. I've known men to get badly turned round right in this +same country. Well, sit up and eat a bite." +</P> + +<P> +She had to be satisfied with his assurance that he would see her to +Cariboo Meadows. And, accepting the situation with what philosophy she +could command, Hazel proceeded to fall to—and soon discovered herself +relishing the food more than any meal she had eaten for a long time. +Hunger is the king of appetizers, and food cooked in the open has a +flavor of its own which no aproned chef can duplicate. Roaring Bill +put half the piece of meat on her plate, sliced bread for her, and set +the butter handy. Also, he poured her a cup of coffee. He had a small +sack of sugar, and his pack boxes yielded condensed milk. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe you'd rather have tea," he said. "I didn't think to ask you. +Most Canadians don't drink anything else." +</P> + +<P> +"No, thanks. I like coffee," Hazel replied. +</P> + +<P> +"You're not a true-blue Canuck, then," Bill observed. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, I am," she declared. "Aren't you a Canadian?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't know that the mere accident of birth in come particular +locality makes any difference," he answered. "But I'm a lot shy of +being a Canadian, though I've been in this country a long time. I was +born in Chicago, the smokiest, windiest old burg in the United States." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a big place, isn't it?" Hazel kept the conversation going. "I +don't know any of the American cities, but I have a girl friend working +in a Chicago office." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it's big—big and noisy and dirty, and full of wrecks—human +derelicts in an industrial Sargasso Sea—like all big cities the world +over. I don't like 'em." +</P> + +<P> +Wagstaff spoke casually, as much to himself as to her, and he did not +pursue the subject, but began his meal. +</P> + +<P> +"What sort of meat is this?" Hazel asked after a few minutes of +silence. It was fine-grained and of a rich flavor strange to her +mouth. She liked it, but it was neither beef, pork, nor mutton, nor +any meat she knew. +</P> + +<P> +"Venison. Didn't you ever eat any before?" he smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Never tasted it," she answered. "Isn't it nice? No, I've read of +hunters cooking venison over an open fire, but this is my first taste. +Indeed, I've never seen a real camp fire before." +</P> + +<P> +"Lord—what a lot you've missed!" There was real pity in his tone. "I +killed that deer to-day. In fact, the little circus I had with Mr. +Buck was what started Nigger off into the brush. Have some more +coffee." +</P> + +<P> +He refilled her tin cup, and devoted himself to his food. Before long +they had satisfied their hunger. Bill laid a few dry sticks on the +fire. The flames laid hold of them and shot up in bright, wavering +tongues. It seemed to Hazel that she had stepped utterly out of her +world. Cariboo Meadows, the schoolhouse, and her classes seemed +remote. She found herself wishing she were a man, so that she could +fare into the wilds with horses and a gun in this capable man fashion, +where routine went by the board and the unexpected hovered always close +at hand. She looked up suddenly, to find him regarding her with a +whimsical smile. +</P> + +<P> +"In a few minutes," said he, "I'll pack up and try to deliver you as +per contract. Meantime, I'm going to smoke." +</P> + +<P> +He did not ask her permission, but filled his pipe and lighted it with +a coal. And for the succeeding fifteen minutes Roaring Bill Wagstaff +sat staring into the dancing blaze. Once or twice he glanced at her, +and when he did the same whimsical smile would flit across his face. +Hazel watched him uneasily after a time. He seemed to have forgotten +her. His pipe died, and he sat holding it in his hand. She was +uneasy, but not afraid. There was nothing about him or his actions to +make her fear. On the contrary, Roaring Bill at close quarters +inspired confidence. Why she could not and did not attempt to +determine, psychological analysis being rather out of her line. +</P> + +<P> +Physically, however, Roaring Bill measured up to a high standard. He +was young, probably twenty-seven or thereabouts. There was +power—plenty of it—in the wide shoulders and deep chest of him, with +arms in proportion. His hands, while smooth on the backs and well +cared for, showed when he exposed the palms the callouses of ax +handling. And his face was likable, she decided, full of character, +intensely masculine. In her heart every woman despises any hint of the +effeminate in man. Even though she may decry what she is pleased to +term the brute in man, whenever he discards the dominant, overmastering +characteristics of the male she will have none of him. Miss Hazel Weir +was no exception to her sex. +</P> + +<P> +Consciously or otherwise she took stock of Bill Wagstaff. She knew him +to be in bad odor with Cariboo Meadows for some unknown reason. She +had seen him fight in the street, knock a man unconscious with his +fists. According to her conceptions of behavior that was brutal and +vulgar. Drinking came under the same head, and she had Jim Briggs' +word that Bill Wagstaff not only got drunk, but was a "holy terror" +when in that condition. Yet she could not quite associate the twin +traits of brutality and vulgarity with the man sitting close by with +that thoughtful look on his face. His speech stamped him as a man of +education; every line of him showed breeding in all that the word +implies. +</P> + +<P> +Nevertheless, he was "tough." And she had gathered enough of the +West's wide liberality of view in regard to personal conduct to know +that Roaring Bill Wagstaff must be a hard citizen indeed to be +practically ostracized in a place like Cariboo Meadows. She wondered +what Cariboo Meadows would say if it could see her sitting by Bill +Wagstaff's fire at nine in the evening in the heart of the woods. What +would they say when he piloted her home? +</P> + +<P> +In the midst of her reflections Roaring Bill got up. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we'll make a move," he said, and disappeared abruptly into the +dark. +</P> + +<P> +She heard him moving around at some distance. Presently he was back, +leading three horses. One he saddled. The other two he rigged with +his pack outfit, storing his varied belongings in two pair of kyaks, +and loading kyaks and bedding on the horses with a deft speed that +bespoke long practice. He was too busy to talk, and Hazel sat beside +the fire, watching in silence. When he had tucked up the last rope +end, he turned to her. +</P> + +<P> +"There," he said; "we're ready to hit the trail. Can you ride?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," Hazel answered dubiously. "I never have ridden a +horse." +</P> + +<P> +"My, my!" he smiled. "Your education has been sadly neglected—and you +a schoolma'am, too!" +</P> + +<P> +"My walking education hasn't been neglected," Hazel retorted. "I don't +need to ride, thank you." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and stub your toe and fall down every ten feet," Bill observed. +"No, Miss Weir, your first lesson in horsemanship is now due—if you +aren't afraid of horses." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not afraid of horses at all," Hazel declared. "But I don't think +it's a very good place to take riding lessons. I can just as well +walk, for I'm not in the least afraid." And then she added as an +afterthought: "How do you happen to know my name?" +</P> + +<P> +"In the same way that you know mine," Bill replied, "even if you +haven't mentioned it yet. Lord bless you, do you suppose Cariboo +Meadows could import a lady school-teacher from the civilized East +without everybody in fifty miles knowing who she was, and where she +came from, and what she looked like? You furnished them a subject for +conversation and speculation—the same as I do when I drop in there and +whoop it up for a while. I guess you don't realize what old granny +gossips we wild Westerners are. Especially where girls are concerned." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel stiffened a trifle. She did not like the idea of Cariboo Meadows +discussing her with such freedom. She was becoming sensitive on that +subject—since the coming and going of Mr. Howard Perkins, for she felt +that they were considering her from an angle that she did not relish. +She wondered also if Roaring Bill Wagstaff had heard that gossip. And +if he had— At any rate, she could not accuse him of being impertinent +or curious in so far as she was concerned. After the first look and +exclamation of amazement he had taken her as a matter of course. If +anything, his personal attitude was tinctured with indifference. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said he, "we won't argue the point." +</P> + +<P> +He disappeared into the dark again. This time he came back with the +crown of his hat full of water, which he sprinkled over the dwindling +fire. As the red glow of the embers faded in a sputter of steam and +ashes, Hazel realized more profoundly the blackness of a cloudy night +in the woods. Until her eyes accustomed themselves to the transition +from firelight to the gloom, she could see nothing but vague shapes +that she knew to be the horses, and another dim, moving object that was +Bill Wagstaff. Beyond that the inky canopy above and the forest +surrounding seemed a solid wall. +</P> + +<P> +"It's going to be nasty traveling, Miss Weir," Roaring Bill spoke at +her elbow. "I'll walk and lead the packs. You ride Silk. He's +gentle. All you have to do is sit still, and he'll stay right behind +the packs. I'll help you mount." +</P> + +<P> +If Hazel had still been inclined to insist on walking, she had no +chance to debate the question. Bill took her by the arm and led her up +beside the horse. It was a unique experience for her, this being +compelled to do things. No man had ever issued ultimatums to her. +Even Jack Barrow, with all an accepted lover's privileges, had never +calmly told her that she must do thus and so, and acted on the +supposition that his word was final. But here was Roaring Bill +Wagstaff telling her how to put her foot in the stirrup, putting her +for the first time in her life astride a horse, warning her to duck low +branches. In his mind there seemed to be no question as whether or not +she would ride. He had settled that. +</P> + +<P> +Unused to mounting, she blundered at the first attempt, and flushed in +the dark at Bill's amused chuckle. The next instant he caught her +under the arms, and, with the leverage of her one foot in the stirrup, +set her gently in the seat of the saddle. +</P> + +<P> +"You're such a little person," he said, "these stirrups are a mile too +long. Put your feet in the leather above—so. Now play follow your +leader. Give Silk his head." +</P> + +<P> +He moved away. The blurred shapes of the pack horses forged ahead, +rustling in the dry grass, dry twigs snapping under foot. Obedient to +Bill's command, she let the reins dangle, and Silk followed close +behind his mates. Hazel lurched unsteadily at first, but presently she +caught the swinging motion and could maintain her balance without +holding stiffly to the saddle horn. +</P> + +<P> +They crossed the small meadow and plunged into thick woods again. For +the greater part of the way Hazel could see nothing; she could tell +that Wagstaff and the pack horses moved before her by the sounds of +their progress, and that was all. Now and then low-hanging limbs +reached suddenly out of the dark, and touched her with unseen fingers, +or swept rudely across her face and hair. +</P> + +<P> +The night seemed endless as the wilderness itself. Unused to riding, +she became sore, and then the sore muscles stiffened. The chill of the +night air intensified. She grew cold, her fingers numb. She did not +know where she was going, and she was assailed with doubts of Roaring +Bill's ability to find Cariboo Meadows. +</P> + +<P> +For what seemed to her an interminable length of time they bore slowly +on through timber, crossed openings where the murk of the night thinned +a little, enabling her to see the dim form of Wagstaff plodding in the +lead. Again they dipped down steep slopes and ascended others as +steep, where Silk was forced to scramble, and Hazel kept a precarious +seat. She began to feel, with an odd heart sinking, that sufficient +time had elapsed for them to reach the Meadows, even by a roundabout +way. Then, as they crossed a tiny, gurgling stream, and came upon a +level place beyond, Silk bumped into the other horses and stopped. +Hazel hesitated a second. There was no sound of movement. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Wagstaff!" she called. +</P> + +<P> +"Yours truly," his voice hailed back, away to one side. "I'll be there +in a minute." +</P> + +<P> +In less time he appeared beside her. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you fall off, or be lifted off?" he said cheerfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are we?" she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Ask me something easy," he returned. "I've been going it blind for an +hour, trying to hit the Soda Creek Trail, or any old trail that would +show me where I am. It's no use. Too dark. A man couldn't find his +way over country that he knew to-night if he had a lantern and a +compass." +</P> + +<P> +"What on earth am I going to do?" Hazel cried desperately. +</P> + +<P> +"Camp here till daylight," Roaring Bill answered evenly. "The only +thing you can do. Good Lord!" His hand accidentally rested on hers. +"You're like ice. I didn't think about you getting cold riding. I'm a +mighty thoughtless escort, I'm afraid. Get down and put on a coat, and +I'll have a fire in a minute." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose if I must, I must; but I can get off without any help, thank +you," Hazel answered ungraciously. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill made no reply, but stood back, and when her feet touched +solid earth he threw over her boulders the coat he had worn himself. +Then he turned away, and Hazel saw him stooping here and there, and +heard the crack of dry sticks broken over his knee. In no time he was +back to the horses with an armful of dry stuff, and had a small blaze +licking up through dry grass and twigs. As it grew he piled on larger +sticks till the bright flame waved two feet high, lighting up the +near-by woods and shedding a bright glow on the three horses standing +patiently at hand. He paid no attention to Hazel until she came +timidly up to the fire. Then he looked up at her with his whimsical +smile. +</P> + +<P> +"That's right," he said; "come on and get warm. No use worrying—or +getting cross. I suppose from your civilized, conventional point of +view it's a terrible thing to be out in the woods all night alone with +a strange man. But I'm not a bear—I won't eat you." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry if I seemed rude," Hazel said penitently; Roaring Bill's +statement was reassuring in its frankness. "I can't help thinking of +the disagreeable side of it. People talk so. I suppose I'll be a nine +days' wonder in Cariboo Meadows." +</P> + +<P> +Bill laughed softly. +</P> + +<P> +"Let them take it out in wondering," he advised. "Cariboo Meadows is a +very small and insignificant portion of the world, anyway." +</P> + +<P> +He went to one of the packs, and came back with a canvas cover, which +he spread on the ground. +</P> + +<P> +"Sit on that," he said. "The earth's always damp in the woods." +</P> + +<P> +Then he stripped the horses of their burdens and tied them out of sight +among the trees. That task finished, he took his ax and rustled a pile +of wood, dragging dead poles up to the fire and chopping them into +short lengths. When finally he laid aside his ax, he busied himself +with gathering grass and leaves and pine needles until he had several +armfuls collected and spread in an even pile to serve as a mattress. +Upon this he laid his bedding, two thick quilts, two or three pairs of +woolen blankets, a pillow, the whole inclosed with a long canvas sheet, +the bed tarpaulin of the cattle ranges. +</P> + +<P> +"There," he said; "you can turn in whenever you feel like it." +</P> + +<P> +For himself he took the saddle blankets and laid them close by the fire +within reaching distance of the woodpile, taking for cover a pack +canvas. He stretched himself full length, filled his pipe, lit it, and +fell to staring into the fire while he smoked. +</P> + +<P> +Half an hour later he raised his head and looked across the fire at +Hazel. +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you go to bed?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not sleepy," she declared, which was a palpable falsehood, for her +eyelids were even then drooping. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe not, but you need rest," Bill said quietly. "Quit thinking +things. It'll be all the same a hundred years from now. Go on to bed. +You'll be more comfortable." +</P> + +<P> +Thus peremptorily commanded, Hazel found herself granting instant +obedience. The bed, as Bill had remarked, was far more comfortable +than sitting by the fire. She got into the blankets just as she stood, +even to her shoes, and drew the canvas sheet up so that it hid her +face—but did not prevent her from seeing. +</P> + +<P> +In spite of herself, she slept fitfully. Now and then she would wake +with a start to a half-frightened realization of her surroundings and +plight, and whenever she did wake and look past the fire it was to see +Roaring Bill Wagstaff stretched out in the red glow, his brown head +pillowed on one folded arm. Once she saw him reach to the wood without +moving his body and lay a stick on the fire. +</P> + +<P> +Then all at once she wakened out of sound slumber with a violent start. +Roaring Bill was shaking the tarpaulin over her and laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"Arise, Miss Sleeping Beauty!" he said boyishly. "Breakfast's ready." +</P> + +<P> +He went back to the fire. Hazel sat up, patting her tousled hair into +some semblance of order. Off in the east a reddish streak spread +skyward into somber gray. In the west, black night gave ground slowly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's another day," she whispered, as she had whispered to +herself once before. "I wonder if there will ever be any more like it?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IN DEEP WATER +</H3> + + +<P> +The dawn thrust aside night's somber curtains while they ate, revealing +a sky overcast with slaty clouds. What with her wanderings of the +night before and the journey through the dark with Roaring Bill, she +had absolutely no idea of either direction or locality. The infolding +timber shut off the outlook. Forest-clad heights upreared here and +there, but no landmark that she could place and use for a guide. She +could not guess whether Cariboo Meadows was a mile distant, or ten, nor +in what direction it might lie. If she had not done so before, she now +understood how much she had to depend on Roaring Bill Wagstaff. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you suppose I can get home in time to open school?" she inquired +anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill smiled. "I don't know," he answered. "It all depends." +</P> + +<P> +Upon what it depended he did not specify, but busied himself packing +up. In half an hour or less they were ready to start. Bill spent a +few minutes longer shortening the stirrups, then signified that she +should mount. He seemed more thoughtful, less inclined to speech. +</P> + +<P> +"You know where you are now, don't you?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Not exactly," he responded. "But I will before long—I hope." +</P> + +<P> +The ambiguity of his answer did not escape her. She puzzled over it +while Silk ambled sedately behind the other horses. She hoped that +Bill Wagstaff knew where he was going. If he did not—but she refused +to entertain the alternative. And she began to watch eagerly for some +sign of familiar ground. +</P> + +<P> +For two hours Roaring Bill tramped through aisles bordered with pine +and spruce and fir, through thickets of berry bush, and across limited +areas of grassy meadow. Not once did they cross a road or a trail. +With the clouds hiding the sun, she could not tell north from south +after they left camp. Eventually Bill halted at a small stream to get +a drink. Hazel looked at her watch. It was half past eight. +</P> + +<P> +"Aren't we ever going to get there?" she called impatiently. +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty soon," he called back, and struck out briskly again. +</P> + +<P> +Another hour passed. Ahead of her, leading one pack horse and letting +the other follow untrammeled, Roaring Bill kept doggedly on, halting +for nothing, never looking back. If he did not know where he was +going, he showed no hesitation. And Hazel had no choice but to follow. +</P> + +<P> +They crossed a ravine and slanted up a steep hillside. Presently Hazel +could look away over an area of woodland undulating like a heavy ground +swell at sea. Here and there ridges stood forth boldly above the +general roll, and distantly she could descry a white-capped mountain +range. They turned the end of a thick patch of pine scrub, and Bill +pulled up in a small opening. From a case swinging at his belt he took +out a pair of field glasses, and leisurely surveyed the country. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" Hazel interrogated. +</P> + +<P> +She herself had cast an anxious glance over the wide sweep below and +beyond, seeing nothing but timber and hills, with the silver thread of +a creek winding serpent-wise through the green. But of habitation or +trail there was never a sign. And it was after ten o'clock. They were +over four hours from their camp ground. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing in sight, is there?" Bill said thoughtfully. "If the sun was +out, now. Funny I can't spot that Soda Creek Trail." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you know this country at all?" she asked gloomily. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought I did," he replied. "But I can't seem to get my bearings to +work out correctly. I'm awfully sorry to keep you in such a pickle. +But it can't be helped." +</P> + +<P> +Thus he disarmed her for the time being. She could not find fault with +a man who was doing his best to help her. If Roaring Bill were unable +to bear straight for the Meadows, it was unfortunate for her, but no +fault of his. At the same time, it troubled her more than she would +admit. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we won't get anywhere standing on this hill," he remarked at +length. +</P> + +<P> +He took up the lead rope and moved on. They dropped over the ridge +crest and once more into the woods. Roaring Bill made his next halt +beside a spring, and fell to unlashing the packs. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do?" Hazel asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Cook a bite, and let the horses graze," he told her. "Do you realize +that we've been going since daylight? It's near noon. Horses have to +eat and rest once in a while, just the same as human beings." +</P> + +<P> +The logic of this Hazel could not well deny, since she herself was +tired and ravenously hungry. By her watch it was just noon. +</P> + +<P> +Bill hobbled out his horses on the grass below the spring, made a fire, +and set to work cooking. For the first time the idea of haste seemed +to have taken hold of him. He worked silently at the meal getting, +fried steaks of venison, and boiled a pot of coffee. They ate. He +filled his pipe, and smoked while he repacked. Altogether, he did not +consume more than forty minutes at the noon halt. Hazel, now woefully +saddle sore, would fain have rested longer, and, in default of resting, +tried to walk and lead Silk. Roaring Bill offered no objection to +that. But he hit a faster gait. She could not keep up, and he did not +slacken pace when she began to fall behind. So she mounted awkwardly, +and Silk jolted and shook her with his trotting until he caught up with +his mates. Bill grinned over his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"You're learning fast," he called back. "You'll be able to run a pack +train by and by." +</P> + +<P> +The afternoon wore on without bringing them any nearer Cariboo Meadows +so far as Hazel could see. Traveling over a country swathed in timber +and diversified in contour, she could not tell whether Roaring Bill +swung in a circle or bore straight for some given point. +</P> + +<P> +She speculated futilely on the outcome of the strange plight she was +in. It was a far cry from pounding a typewriter in a city office to +jogging through the wilderness, lost beyond peradventure, her only +company a stranger of unsavory reputation. Yet she was not frightened, +for all the element of unreality. Under other circumstances she could +have relished the adventure, taken pleasure in faring gypsy fashion +over the wide reaches where man had left no mark. As it was— +</P> + +<P> +She called a halt at four o'clock. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Wagstaff!" +</P> + +<P> +Bill stopped his horses and came back to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Aren't we <I>ever</I> going to get anywhere?" she asked soberly. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure! But we've got to keep going. Got to make the best of a bad +job," he returned. "Getting pretty tired?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am," she admitted. "I'm afraid I can't ride much longer. I could +walk if you wouldn't go so fast. Aren't there any ranches in this +country at all?" +</P> + +<P> +He shook his head. "They're few and far between," he said. "Don't +worry, though. It isn't a life-and-death matter. If we were out here +without grub or horses it might be tough. You're in no danger from +exposure or hunger." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't seem to realize the position it puts me in," Hazel answered. +A wave of despondency swept over her, and her eyes grew suddenly bright +with the tears she strove to keep back. "If we wander around in the +woods much longer, I'll simply be a sensation when I do get back to +Cariboo Meadows. I won't have a shred of reputation left. It will +probably result in my losing the school. You're a man, and it's +different with you. You can't know what a girl has to contend with +where no one knows her. I'm a stranger in this country, and what +little they do know of me—" +</P> + +<P> +She stopped short, on the point of saying that what Cariboo Meadows +knew of her through the medium of Mr. Howard Perkins was not at all to +her credit. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill looked up at her impassively. "I know," he said, as if he +had read her thought. "Your friend Perkins talked a lot. But what's +the difference? Cariboo Meadows is only a fleabite. If you're right, +and you know you're right, you can look the world in the eye and tell +it collectively to go to the devil. Besides, you've got a perverted +idea. People aren't so ready to give you the bad eye on somebody +else's say-so. It would take a lot more than a flash drummer's word to +convince me that you're a naughty little girl. Pshaw—forget it!" +</P> + +<P> +Hazel colored hotly at his mention of Perkins, but for the latter part +of his speech she could have hugged him. Bill Wagstaff went a long +way, in those brief sentences, toward demolishing her conviction that +no man ever overlooked an opportunity of taking advantage of a woman. +But Bill said nothing further. He stood a moment longer by her horse, +resting one hand on Silk's mane, and scraping absently in the soft +earth with the toe of his boot. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, let's get somewhere," he said abruptly. "If you're too saddle +sore to ride, walk a while. I'll go slower." +</P> + +<P> +She walked, and the exercise relieved the cramping ache in her limbs. +Roaring Bill's slower pace was fast enough at that. She followed till +her strength began to fail. And when in spite of her determination she +lagged behind, he stopped at the first water. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll camp here," he said. "You're about all in, and we can't get +anywhere to-night, I see plainly." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel accepted this dictum as best she could. She eat down on a mossy +rock while he stripped the horses of their gear and staked them out. +Then Bill started a fire and fixed the roll of bedding by it for her to +sit on. Dusk crept over the forest while he cooked supper, making a +bannock in the frying pan to take the place of bread; and when they had +finished eating and washed the few dishes, night shut down black as the +pit. +</P> + +<P> +They talked little. Hazel was in the grip of utter forlornness, moody, +wishful to cry. Roaring Bill lumped on his side of the fire, staring +thoughtfully into the blaze. After a long period of abstraction he +glanced at his watch, then arose and silently arranged her bed. After +that he spread his saddle blankets and lay down. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel crept into the covers and quietly sobbed herself to sleep. The +huge and silent land appalled her. She had been chucked neck and crop +into the primitive, and she had not yet been able to react to her +environment. She was neither faint-hearted nor hysterical. The grind +of fending for herself in a city had taught her the necessity of +self-control. But she was worn out, unstrung, and there is a limit to +a woman's endurance. +</P> + +<P> +As on the previous night, she wakened often and glanced over to the +fire. Roaring Bill kept his accustomed position, flat in the glow. +She had no fear of him now. But he was something of an enigma. She +had few illusions about men in general. She had encountered a good +many of them in one way and another since reaching the age when she +coiled her hair on top of her head. And she could not recall one—not +even Jack Barrow—with whom she would have felt at ease in a similar +situation. She knew that there was a something about her that drew +men. If the presence of her had any such effect on Bill Wagstaff, he +painstakingly concealed it. +</P> + +<P> +And she was duly grateful for that. She had not believed it a +characteristic of his type—the virile, intensely masculine type of +man. But she had not once found him looking at her with the same +expression in his eyes that she had seen once over Jim Briggs' dining +table. +</P> + +<P> +Night passed, and dawn ushered in a clearing sky. Ragged wisps of +clouds chased each other across the blue when they set out again. +Hazel walked the stiffness out of her muscles before she mounted. When +she did get on Silk, Roaring Bill increased his pace. He was +long-legged and light of foot, apparently tireless. She asked no +questions. What was the use? He would eventually come out somewhere. +She was resigned to wait. +</P> + +<P> +After a time she began to puzzle, and the old uneasiness came back. +The last trailing banner of cloud vanished, and the sun rode clear in +an opal sky, smiling benignly down on the forested land. She was thus +enabled to locate the cardinal points of the compass. Wherefore she +took to gauging their course by the shadows. And the result was what +set her thinking. Over level and ridge and swampy hollow, Roaring Bill +drove straight north in an undeviating line. She recollected that the +point from which she had lost her way had lain northeast of Cariboo +Meadows. Even if they had swung in a circle, they could scarcely be +pointing for the town in that direction. For another hour Bill held to +the northern line as a needle holds to the pole. A swift rush of +misgiving seized her. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Wagstaff!" she called sharply. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill stopped, and she rode Silk up past the pack horses. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you taking me?" she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I'm taking you home—or trying to," he answered mildly. +</P> + +<P> +"But you're going <I>north</I>," she declared. "You've been going north all +morning. I was north of Cariboo Meadows when I got lost. How can we +get back to Cariboo Meadows by going still farther north?" +</P> + +<P> +"You're more of a woodsman than I imagined," Bill remarked gently. He +smiled up at her, and drew out his pipe and tobacco pouch. +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him for a minute. "Do you know where we are now?" she +asked quietly. +</P> + +<P> +He met her keen gaze calmly. "I do," he made laconic answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Which way is Cariboo Meadows, then, and how far is it?" she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"General direction south," he replied slowly. "Fifty miles more or +less. Rather more than less." +</P> + +<P> +"And you've been leading me straight north!" she cried. "Oh, what am I +going to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Keep right on going," Wagstaff answered. +</P> + +<P> +"I won't—I won't!" she flashed. "I'll find my own way back. What +devilish impulse prompted you to do such a thing?" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have a beautiful time of it," he said dryly, completely +ignoring her last question. "Take you three days to walk there—if you +knew every foot of the way. And you don't know the way. Traveling in +timber is confusing, as you've discovered. You'll never see Cariboo +Meadows, or any other place, if you tackle it single-handed, without +grub or matches or bedding. It's fall, remember. A snowstorm is due +any time. This is a whopping big country. A good many men have got +lost in it—and other men have found their bones." +</P> + +<P> +He let this sink in while she sat there on his horse choking back a +wild desire to curse him by bell, book, and candle for what he had +done, and holding in check the fear of what he might yet do. She knew +him to be a different type of man from any she had ever encountered. +She could not escape the conclusion that Roaring Bill Wagstaff was +something of a law unto himself, capable of hewing to the line of his +own desires at any cost. She realized her utter helplessness, and the +realization left her without words. He had drawn a vivid picture, and +the instinct of self-preservation asserted itself. +</P> + +<P> +"You misled me." She found her voice at last. "Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Did I mislead you?" he parried. "Weren't you already lost when you +came to my camp? And have I mistreated you in any manner? Have I +refused you food, shelter, or help?" +</P> + +<P> +"My home is in Cariboo Meadows," she persisted. "I asked you to take +me there. You led me away from there deliberately, I believe now." +</P> + +<P> +"My trail doesn't happen to lead to Cariboo Meadows, that's all," +Roaring Bill coolly told her. "If you must go back there, I shan't +restrain you in any way whatever. But I'm for home myself. And that," +he came close, and smiled frankly up at her, "is a better place than +Cariboo Meadows. I've got a little house back there in the woods. +There's a big fireplace where the wind plays tag with the snowflakes in +winter time. There's grub there, and meat in the forest, and fish in +the streams. It's home for me. Why should I go back to Cariboo +Meadows? Or you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why should <I>I</I> go with you?" she demanded scornfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Because I want you to," he murmured. +</P> + +<P> +They matched glances for a second, Wagstaff smiling, she half horrified. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you clean mad?" she asked angrily. "I was beginning to think you +a gentleman." +</P> + +<P> +Bill threw back his head and laughed. Then on the instant he sobered. +"Not a gentleman," he said. "I'm just plain man. And lonesome +sometimes for a mate, as nature has ordained to be the way of flesh." +</P> + +<P> +"Get a squaw, then," she sneered. "I've heard that such people as you +do that." +</P> + +<P> +"Not me," he returned, unruffled. "I want a woman of my own kind." +</P> + +<P> +"Heaven save <I>me</I> from that classification!" she observed, with +emphasis on the pronoun. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes?" he drawled. "Well, there's no profit in arguing that point. +Let's be getting on." +</P> + +<P> +He reached for the lead rope of the nearest pack horse. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel urged Silk up a step. "Mr. Wagstaff," she cried, "I must go +back." +</P> + +<P> +"You can't go back without me," he said. "And I'm not traveling that +way, thank you." +</P> + +<P> +"Please—oh, please!" she begged forlornly. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill's face hardened. "I will not," he said flatly. "I'm +going to play the game my way. And I'll play fair. That's the only +promise I will make." +</P> + +<P> +She took a look at the encompassing woods, and her heart sank at facing +those shadowy stretches alone and unguided. The truth of his statement +that she would never reach Cariboo Meadows forced itself home. There +was but the one way out, and her woman's wit would have to save her. +</P> + +<P> +"Go on, then," she gritted, in a swift surge of anger. "I am afraid to +face this country alone. I admit my helplessness. But so help me +Heaven, I'll make you pay for this dirty trick! You're not a man! +You're a cur—a miserable, contemptible scoundrel!" +</P> + +<P> +"Whew!" Roaring Bill laughed. "Those are pretty names. Just the same, +I admire your grit. Well, here we go!" +</P> + +<P> +He took up the lead rope, and went on without even looking back to see +if she followed. If he had made the slightest attempt to force her to +come, if he had betrayed the least uncertainty as to whether she would +come, Hazel would have swung down from the saddle and set her face +stubbornly southward in sheer defiance of him. But such is the +peculiar complexity of a woman that she took one longing glance +backward, and then fell in behind the packs. She was weighted down +with dread of the unknown, boiling over with rage at the man who swung +light-footed in the lead; but nevertheless she followed him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT +</H3> + + +<P> +All the rest of that day they bore steadily northward. Hazel had no +idea of Bill Wagstaff's destination. She was too bitter against him to +ask, after admitting that she could not face the wilderness alone. +Between going it alone and accompanying him, it seemed to be a case of +choosing the lesser evil. Curiously she felt no fear of Bill Wagstaff +in person, and she did have a dread vision of what might happen to her +if she went wandering alone in the woods. There was one loophole left +to comfort her. It seemed scarcely reasonable that they could fare on +forever without encountering other frontier folk. Upon that +possibility she based her hopes of getting back to civilization, not so +much for love of civilization as to defeat Roaring Bill's object, to +show him that a woman had to be courted rather than carried away +against her will by any careless, strong-armed male. She knew nothing +of the North, but she thought there must be some mode of communication +or transportation. If she could once get in touch with other +people—well, she would show Roaring Bill. Of course, getting back to +Cariboo Meadows meant a new start in the world, for she had no hope, +nor any desire, to teach school there after this episode. She found +herself facing that prospect unmoved, however. The important thing was +getting out of her present predicament. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill made his camp that night as if no change in their attitude +had taken place. To all his efforts at conversation she turned a deaf +ear and a stony countenance. She proposed to eat his food and use his +bedding, because that was necessary. But socially she would have none +of him. Bill eventually gave over trying to talk. But he lost none of +his cheerfulness. He lay on his own side of the fire, regarding her +with the amused tolerance that one bestows upon the capricious temper +of a spoiled child. +</P> + +<P> +Thereafter, day by day, the miles unrolled behind them. Always Roaring +Bill faced straight north. For a week he kept on tirelessly, and a +consuming desire to know how far he intended to go began to take hold +of her. But she would not ask, even when daily association dulled the +edge of her resentment, and she found it hard to keep up her hostile +attitude, to nurse bitterness against a man who remained serenely +unperturbed, and who, for all his apparent lawlessness, treated her as +a man might treat his sister. +</P> + +<P> +To her unpracticed eye, the character of the country remained unchanged +except for minor variations. Everywhere the timber stood in serried +ranks, spotted with lakes and small meadows, and threaded here and +there with little streams. But at last they dropped into a valley +where the woods thinned out, and down the center of which flowed a +sizable river. This they followed north a matter of three days. On +the west the valley wall ran to a timbered ridge. Eastward the jagged +peaks of a snow-capped mountain chain pierced the sky. +</P> + +<P> +Two hours from their noon camp on the fourth day in the valley Hazel +sighted some moving objects in the distance, angling up on the +timber-patched hillside. She watched them, at first uncertain whether +they were moose, which they had frequently encountered, or domestic +animals. Accustomed by now to gauging direction at a glance toward the +sun, she observed that these objects traveled south. +</P> + +<P> +Presently, as the lines of their respective travel brought them nearer, +she made them out to be men, mounted, and accompanied by packs. She +counted the riders—five, and as many pack horses. One, she felt +certain, was a woman—whether white or red she could not tell. +But—there was safety in numbers. And they were going south. +</P> + +<P> +Upon her first impulse she swung off Silk, and started for the +hillside, at an angle calculated to intercept the pack train. There +was a chance, and she was rapidly becoming inured to taking chances. +At a distance of a hundred yards, she looked back, half fearful that +Roaring Bill was at her heels. But he stood with his hands in his +pockets, watching her. She did not look again until she was half a +mile up the hill. Then he and his packs had vanished. +</P> + +<P> +So, too, had the travelers that she was hurrying to meet. Off the +valley floor, she no longer commanded the same sweeping outlook. The +patches of timber intervened. As she kept on, she became more +uncertain. But she bore up the slope until satisfied that she was +parallel with where they should come out; then she stopped to rest. +After a few minutes she climbed farther, endeavoring to reach a point +whence she could see more of the slope. In so far had she absorbed +woodcraft that she now began watching for tracks. There were enough of +these, but they were the slender, triangle prints of the shy deer. +Nothing resembling the hoofmark of a horse rewarded her searching. And +before long, what with turning this way and that, she found herself on +a plateau where the pine and spruce stood like bristles in a brush, and +from whence she could see neither valley below nor hillside above. +</P> + +<P> +She was growing tired. Her feet ached from climbing, and she was wet +with perspiration. She rested again, and tried calling. But her voice +sounded muffled in the timber, and she soon gave over that. The +afternoon was on the wane, and she began to think of and dread the +coming of night. Already the sun had dipped out of sight behind the +western ridges; his last beams were gilding the blue-white pinnacles a +hundred miles to the east. The shadows where she sat were thickening. +She had given up hope of finding the pack train, and she had cut loose +from Roaring Bill. It would be just like him to shrug his shoulders +and keep on going, she thought resentfully. +</P> + +<P> +As twilight fell a brief panic seized her, followed by frightened +despair. The wilderness, in its evening hush, menaced her with huge +emptinesses, utter loneliness. She worked her way to the edge of the +wooded plateau. There was a lingering gleam of yellow and rose pink on +the distant mountains, but the valley itself lay in a blur of shade, +out of which rose the faint murmur of running water, a monotone in the +silence. She sat down on a dead tree, and cried softly to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" +</P> + +<P> +She started, with an involuntary gasp of fear, it was so unexpected. +Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, resting one hand +on the muzzle of his grounded rifle, smiling placidly. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-104"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-104.jpg" ALT="Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, resting one hand on the muzzle of his grounded rifle." BORDER="2" WIDTH="400" HEIGHT="635"> +<H3> +[Illustration: Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, <BR> +resting one hand on the muzzle of his grounded rifle.] +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<P> +"Well," he repeated, "this chasing up a pack train isn't so easy as it +looks, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer. Her pride would not allow her to admit that she +was glad to see him, relieved to be overtaken like a truant from +school. And Bill did not seem to expect a reply. He slung his rifle +into the crook of his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on, little woman," he said gently. "I knew you'd be tired, and I +made camp down below. It isn't far." +</P> + +<P> +Obediently she followed him, and as she tramped at his heels she saw +why he had been able to come up on her so noiselessly. He had put on a +pair of moccasins, and his tread gave forth no sound. +</P> + +<P> +"How did you manage to find me?" she asked suddenly—the first +voluntary speech from her in days. +</P> + +<P> +Bill answered over his shoulder: +</P> + +<P> +"Find you? Bless your soul, your little, high-heeled slices left a +trail a one-eyed man could follow. I've been within fifty yards of you +for two hours. +</P> + +<P> +"Just the same," he continued, after a minute's interval, "it's bad +business for you to run off like that. Suppose you played hide and +seek with me till a storm wiped out your track? You'd be in a deuce of +a fix." +</P> + +<P> +She made no reply. The lesson of the experience was not lost on her, +but she was not going to tell him so. +</P> + +<P> +In a short time they reached camp. Roaring Bill had tarried long +enough to unpack. The horses grazed on picket. It was borne in upon +her that short of actually meeting other people her only recourse lay +in sticking to Bill Wagstaff, whether she liked it or not. To strike +out alone was courting self-destruction. And she began to understand +why Roaring Bill made no effort to watch or restrain her. He knew the +grim power of the wilderness. It was his best ally in what he had set +out to do. +</P> + +<P> +Within forty-eight hours the stream they followed merged itself in +another, both wide and deep, which flowed west through a level-bottomed +valley three miles or more in width. Westward the land spread out in a +continuous roll, marked here and there with jutting ridges and isolated +peaks; but on the east a chain of rugged mountains marked the horizon +as far as she could see. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill halted on the river brink and stripped his horses clean, +though it was but two in the afternoon and their midday fire less than +an hour extinguished. She watched him curiously. When his packs were +off he beckoned her. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold them a minute," he said, and put the lead ropes in her hand. +</P> + +<P> +Then he went up the bank into a thicket of saskatoons. Out of this he +presently emerged, bearing on his shoulders a canoe, old and +weather-beaten, but stanch, for it rode light as a feather on the +stream. Bill seated himself in the canoe, holding to Silk's lead rope. +The other two he left free. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," he directed, "when I start across, you drive Nigger and Satin in +if they show signs of hanging back. Bounce a rock or two off them if +they lag." +</P> + +<P> +Her task was an easy one, for Satin and Nigger followed Silk +unhesitatingly. The river lapped along the sleek sides of them for +fifty yards. Then they dropped suddenly into swimming water, and the +current swept them downstream slantwise for the opposite shore, only +their heads showing above the surface. Hazel wondered what river it +might be. It was a good quarter of a mile wide, and swift. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill did not trouble to enlighten her as to the locality. When +he got back he stowed the saddle and pack equipment in the canoe. +</P> + +<P> +"All aboard for the north side," he said boyishly. And Hazel climbed +obediently amidships. +</P> + +<P> +On the farther side, Bill emptied the canoe, and stowed it out of sight +in a convenient thicket, repacked his horses, and struck out again. +They left the valley behind, and camped that evening on a great height +of land that rolled up to the brink of the valley. +</P> + +<P> +Thereafter the country underwent a gradual change as they progressed +north, slanting a bit eastward. The heavy timber gave way to a sparser +growth, and that in turn dwindled to scrubby thickets, covering great +areas of comparative level. Long reaches of grassland opened before +them, waving yellow in the autumn sun. They crossed other rivers of +various degrees of depth and swiftness, swimming some and fording +others. Hazel drew upon her knowledge of British Columbia geography, +and decided that the big river where Bill hid his canoe must be the +Fraser where it debouched from the mountains. And in that case she was +far north, and in a wilderness indeed. +</P> + +<P> +Her muscles gradually hardened to the saddle and to walking. Her +appetite grew in proportion. The small supply of eatable dainties that +Roaring Bill had brought from the Meadows dwindled and disappeared, +until they were living on bannocks baked à la frontier in his frying +pan, on beans and coffee, and venison killed by the way. Yet she +relished the coarse fare even while she rebelled against the +circumstances of its partaking. Occasionally Bill varied the meat diet +with trout caught in the streams beside which they made their various +camps. He offered to teach her the secrets of angling, but she +shrugged her shoulders by way of showing her contempt for Roaring Bill +and all his works. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you realize," she broke out one evening over the fire, "that this +is simply abduction?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not at all," Bill answered promptly. "Abduction means to take away +surreptitiously by force, to carry away wrongfully and by violence any +human being, to kidnap. Now, you can't by any stretch of the +imagination accuse me of force, violence, or kidnaping—not by a long +shot. You merely wandered into my camp, and it wasn't convenient for +me to turn back. Therefore circumstances—not my act, remember—made +it advisable for you to accompany me. Of course I'll admit that, +according to custom and usage, you would expect me to do the polite +thing and restore you to your own stamping ground. But there's no law +making it mandatory for a fellow to pilot home a lady in distress. +Isn't that right?" +</P> + +<P> +"Anyhow," he went on, when she remained silent, "I didn't. And you'll +have to lay the blame on nature for making you a wonderfully attractive +woman. I did honestly try to find the way to Cariboo Meadows that +first night. It was only when I found myself thinking how fine it +would be to pike through these old woods and mountains with a partner +like you that I decided—as I did. I'm human—the woman, she tempted +me. And aren't you better off? I could hazard a guess that you were +running away from yourself—or something—when you struck Cariboo +Meadows. And what's Cariboo Meadows but a little blot on the face of +this fair earth, where you were tied to a deadly routine in order to +earn your daily bread? You don't care two whoops about anybody there. +Here you are free—free in every sense of the word. You have no +responsibility except what you impose on yourself; no board bills to +pay; nobody to please but your own little self. You've got the clean, +wide land for a bedroom, and the sky for its ceiling, instead of a +stuffy little ten-by-ten chamber. Do you know that you look fifty per +cent better for these few days of living in the open—the way every +normal being likes to live? You're getting some color in your cheeks, +and you're losing that worried, archangel look. Honest, if I were a +physician, I'd have only one prescription: Get out into the wild +country, and live off the country as your primitive forefathers did. +Of course, you can't do that alone. I know because I've tried it. We +humans don't differ so greatly from the other animals. We're made to +hunt in couples or packs. There's a purpose, a law, you might say, +behind that, too; only it's terribly obscured by a lot of other +nonessentials in this day and age. +</P> + +<P> +"Is there any comparison between this sort of life, for instance—if it +appeals to one at all—and being a stenographer and bucking up against +the things any good-looking, unprotected girl gets up against in a +city? You know, if you'd be frank, that there isn't. Shucks! Herding +in the mass, and struggling for a mere subsistence, like dogs over a +bone, degenerates man physically, mentally, and morally—all our +vaunted civilization and culture to the contrary notwithstanding. Eh?" +</P> + +<P> +But she would not take up the cudgels against him, would not seem to +countenance or condone his offense by discussing it from any angle +whatsoever. And she was the more determined to allow no degree of +friendliness, even in conversation, because she recognized the +masterful quality of the man. She told herself that she could have +liked Roaring Bill Wagstaff very well if he had not violated what she +considered the rules of the game. And she had no mind to allow his +personality to sweep her off her feet in the same determined manner +that he had carried her into the wilderness. She was no longer afraid +of him. She occasionally forgot, in spite of herself, that she had a +deep-seated grievance against him. At such times the wild land, the +changing vistas the journey opened up, charmed her into genuine +enjoyment. She would find herself smiling at Bill's quaint tricks of +speech. Then she would recollect that she was, to all intents and +purposes, a prisoner, the captive of his bow and spear. That was +maddening. +</P> + +<P> +After a lapse of time they dropped into another valley, and faced +westward to a mountain range which Bill told her was the Rockies. The +next day a snowstorm struck them. At daybreak the clouds were massed +overhead, lowering, and a dirty gray. An uncommon chill, a rawness of +atmosphere foretold the change. And shortly after they broke camp the +first snowflakes began to drift down, slowly at first, then more +rapidly, until the grayness of the sky and the misty woods were +enveloped in the white swirl of the storm. It was not particularly +cold. Bill wrapped her in a heavy canvas coat, and plodded on. Noon +passed, and he made no stop. If anything, he increased his pace. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly, late in the afternoon, they stepped out of the timber into a +little clearing, in which the blurred outline of a cabin showed under +the wide arms of a leafless tree. +</P> + +<P> +The melting snow had soaked through the coat; her feet were wet with +the clinging flakes, and the chill of a lowering temperature had set +Hazel shivering. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill halted at the door and lifted her down from Silk's back +without the formality of asking her leave. He pulled the latchstring, +and led her in. Beside the rude stone fireplace wood and kindling were +piled in readiness for use. Bill kicked the door shut, dropped on his +knees, and started the fire. In five minutes a great blaze leaped and +crackled into the wide throat of the chimney. Then he piled on more +wood, and turned to her. +</P> + +<P> +"This is the house that Jack built," he said, with a sober face and a +twinkle in his gray eyes. "This is the man that lives in the house +that Jack built. And this"—he pointed mischievously at her—"is the +woman who's going to love the man that lives in the house that Jack +built." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a lie!" she flashed stormily through her chattering teeth. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we'll see," he answered cheerfully. "Get up here close to the +fire and take off those wet things while I put away the horses." +</P> + +<P> +And with that he went out, whistling. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A LITTLE PERSONAL HISTORY +</H3> + + +<P> +Hazel discarded the wet coat, and, drawing a chair up to the fire, took +off her sopping footgear and toasted her bare feet at the blaze. Her +clothing was also wet, and she wondered pettishly how in the world she +was going to manage with only the garments on her back—and those dirty +and torn from hacking through the brush for a matter of two weeks. +According to her standards, that was roughing it with a vengeance. But +presently she gave over thinking of her plight. The fire warmed her, +and, with the chill gone from her body, she bestowed a curious glance +on her surroundings. +</P> + +<P> +Her experience of homes embraced only homes of two sorts—the +middle-class, conventional sort to which she had been accustomed, and +the few poorly furnished frontier dwellings she had entered since +coming to the hinterlands of British Columbia. She had a vague +impression that any dwelling occupied exclusively by a man must of +necessity be dirty, disordered, and cheerless. But she had never seen +a room such as the one she now found herself in. It conformed to none +of her preconceived ideas. +</P> + +<P> +There was furniture of a sort unknown to her, tables and chairs +fashioned by hand with infinite labor and rude skill, massive in +structure, upholstered with the skins of wild beasts common to the +region. Upon the walls hung pictures, dainty black-and-white prints, +and a water color or two. And between the pictures were nailed heads +of mountain sheep and goat, the antlers of deer and caribou. Above +the fireplace spread the huge shovel horns of a moose, bearing across +the prongs a shotgun and fishing rods. The center of the +floor—itself, as she could see, of hand-smoothed logs—was lightened +with a great black and red and yellow rug of curious weave. Covering +up the bare surface surrounding it were bearskins, black and brown. +Her feet rested in the fur of a monster silvertip, fur thicker and +softer than the pile of any carpet ever fabricated by man. All around +the walls ran shelves filled with books. A guitar stood in one corner, +a mandolin in another. The room was all of sixteen by twenty feet, and +it was filled with trophies of the wild—and books. +</P> + +<P> +Except for the dust that had gathered lightly in its owner's absence, +the place was as neat and clean as if the housemaid had but gone over +it. Hazel shrugged her shoulders. Roaring Bill Wagstaff became, if +anything, more of an enigma than ever, in the light of his dwelling. +She recollected that Cariboo Meadows had regarded him askance, and +wondered why. +</P> + +<P> +He came in while her gaze was still roving from one object to another, +and threw his wet outer clothing, boy fashion, on the nearest chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "we're here." +</P> + +<P> +"Please don't forget, Mr. Wagstaff," she replied coldly, "that I would +much prefer not to be here." +</P> + +<P> +He stood a moment regarding her with his odd smile. Then he went into +the adjoining room. Out of this he presently emerged, dragging a small +steamer trunk. He opened it, got down on his knees, and pawed over the +contents. Hazel, looking over her shoulder, saw that the trunk was +filled with woman's garments, and sat amazed. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, little person," Bill finally remarked, "it looks to me as if you +could outfit yourself completely right here." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know that I care to deck myself in another woman's finery, +thank you," she returned perversely. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, see here," Roaring Bill turned reproachfully; "see here—" +</P> + +<P> +He grinned to himself then, and went again into the other room, +returning with a small, square mirror. He planted himself squarely in +front of her, and held up the glass. Hazel took one look at her +reflection, and she could have struck Roaring Bill for his audacity. +She had not realized what an altogether disreputable appearance a +normally good-looking young woman could acquire in two weeks on the +trail, with no toilet accessories and only the clothes on her back. +She tried to snatch the mirror from him, but Bill eluded her reach, and +laid the glass on the table. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll feel a whole better able to cope with the situation," he told +her smilingly, "when you get some decent clothes on and your hair +fixed. That's a woman. And you don't need to feel squeamish about +these things. This trunk's got a history, let me tell you. A bunch of +simon-pure tenderfeet strayed into the mountains west of here a couple +of summers ago. There were two women in the bunch. The youngest one, +who was about your age and size, must have had more than her share of +vanity. I guess she figured on charming the bear and the moose, or the +simple aborigines who dwell in this neck of the woods. Anyhow, she had +all kinds of unnecessary fixings along, that trunkful of stuff in the +lot. You can imagine what a nice time their guides had packing that on +a horse, eh? They got into a deuce of a pickle finally, and had to +abandon a lot of their stuff, among other things the steamer trunk. I +lent them a hand, and they told me to help myself to the stuff. So I +did after they were out of the country. That's how you come to have a +wardrobe all ready to your hand. Now, you'd be awful foolish to act +like a mean and stiff-necked female person. You're not going to, are +you?" he wheedled. "Because I want to make you comfortable. What's +the use of getting on your dignity over a little thing like clothes?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't intend to," Hazel suddenly changed front. "I'll make myself +as comfortable as I can—particularly if it will put you to any +trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"You're bound to scrap, eh?" he grinned. "But it takes two to build a +fight, and I positively refuse to fight with <I>you</I>." +</P> + +<P> +He dragged the trunk back into the room, and came out carrying a great +armful of masculine belongings. Two such trips he made, piling all his +things onto a chair. +</P> + +<P> +"There!" he said at last. "That end of the house belongs to you, +little person. Now, get those wet things off before you catch a cold. +Oh, wait a minute!" +</P> + +<P> +He disappeared into the kitchen end of the house, and came back with a +wash-basin and a pail of water. +</P> + +<P> +"Your room is now ready, madam, an it please you." He bowed with mock +dignity, and went back into the kitchen. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel heard him rattling pots and dishes, whistling cheerfully the +while. She closed the door, and busied herself with an inventory of +the tenderfoot lady's trunk. In it she found everything needful for +complete change, and a variety of garments to boot. Folded in the +bottom of the trunk was a gray cloth skirt and a short blue silk +kimono. There was a coat and skirt, too, of brown corduroy. But the +feminine instinct asserted itself, and she laid out the gray skirt and +the kimono. +</P> + +<P> +For a dresser Roaring Bill had fashioned a wide shelf, and on it she +found a toilet set complete—hand mirror, military brushes, and sundry +articles, backed with silver and engraved with his initials. Perhaps +with a spice of malice, she put on a few extra touches. There would be +some small satisfaction in tantalizing Bill Wagstaff—even if she could +not help feeling that it might be a dangerous game. And, thus arrayed +in the weapons of her sex, she slipped on the kimono, and went into the +living-room to the cheerful glow of the fire. +</P> + +<P> +Bill remained busy in the kitchen. Dusk fell. The gleam of a light +showed through a crack in the door. In the big room only the fire gave +battle to the shadows, throwing a ruddy glow into the far corners. +Presently Bill came in with a pair of candles which he set on the +mantel above the fireplace. +</P> + +<P> +"By Jove!" he said, looking down at her. "You look good enough to eat! +I'm not a cannibal, however," he continued hastily, when Hazel flushed. +She was not used to such plain speaking. "And supper's ready. Come +on!" +</P> + +<P> +The table was set. Moreover, to her surprise—and yet not so greatly +to her surprise, for she was beginning to expect almost anything from +this paradoxical young man—it was spread with linen, and the cutlery +was silver, the dishes china, in contradistinction to the tinware of +his camp outfit. +</P> + +<P> +As a cook Roaring Bill Wagstaff had no cause to be ashamed of himself, +and Hazel enjoyed the meal, particularly since she had eaten nothing +since six in the morning. After a time, when her appetite was +partially satisfied, she took to glancing over his kitchen. There +seemed to be some adjunct of a kitchen missing. A fire burned on a +hearth similar to the one in the living room. Pots stood about the +edge of the fire. But there was no sign of a stove. +</P> + +<P> +Bill finished eating, and resorted to cigarette material instead of his +pipe. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, little person," he said at last, "what do you think of this +joint of mine, anyway?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've just been wondering," she replied. "I don't see any stove, yet +you have food here that looks as if it were baked, and biscuits that +must have been cooked in an oven." +</P> + +<P> +"You see no stove for the good and sufficient reason," he returned, +"that you can't pack a stove on a horse—and we're three hundred odd +miles from the end of any wagon road. With a Dutch oven or two—that +heavy, round iron thing you see there—I can guarantee to cook almost +anything you can cook on a stove. Anybody can if they know how. +Besides, I like things better this way. If I didn't, I suppose I'd +have a stove—and maybe a hot-water supply, and modern plumbing. As it +is, it affords me a sort of prideful satisfaction, which you may or may +not be able to understand, that this cabin and everything in it is the +work of my hands—of stuff I've packed in here with all sorts of effort +from the outside. Maybe I'm a freak. But I'm proud of this place. +Barring the inevitable lonesomeness that comes now and then, I can be +happier here than any place I've ever struck yet. This country grows +on one." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—on one's nerves," Hazel retorted. +</P> + +<P> +Bill smiled, and, rising, began to clear away the dishes. Hazel +resisted an impulse to help. She would not work; she would not lift +her finger to any task, she reminded herself. He had put her in her +present position, and he could wait on her. So she rested an elbow on +the table and watched him. In the midst of his work he stopped +suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"There's oceans of time to do this," he observed. "I'm just a wee bit +tired, if anybody should ask you. Let's camp in the other room. It's +a heap more comfy." +</P> + +<P> +He put more wood on the kitchen fire, and set a pot of water to heat. +Out in the living-room Hazel drew her chair to one side of the hearth. +Bill sprawled on the bearskin robe with another cigarette in his +fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he began, after a long silence, "this country doesn't get on +one's nerves—not if one is a normal human being. You'll find that. +When I first came up here I thought so, too; it seemed so big and empty +and forbidding. But the more I see of it the better it compares with +the outer world, where the extremes of luxury and want are always in +evidence. It began to seem like home to me when I first looked down +into this little basin. I had a partner then. I said to him: 'Here's +a dandy, fine place to winter.' So we wintered—in a log shack sixteen +foot square that Silk and Satin and Nigger have for a stable now. When +summer came my partner wanted to move on, so I stayed. Stayed and +began to build for the next winter. And I've been working at it ever +since, making little things like chairs and tables and shelves, and +fixing up game heads whenever I got an extra good one. And maybe two +or three times a year I'd go out. Get restless, you know. I'm not +really a hermit by nature. Lord, the things I've packed in here from +the outside! Books—I hired a whole pack train at Ashcroft once to +bring in just books; they thought I was crazy, I guess. I've quit this +place once or twice, but I always come back. It's got that home feel +that I can't find anywhere else. Only it has always lacked one +important home qualification," he finished softly. "Do you ever build +air castles?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," Hazel answered untruthfully, uneasy at the trend of his talk. +She was learning that Bill Wagstaff, for all his gentleness and +patience with her, was a persistent mortal. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I do," he continued, unperturbed. "Lots of 'em. But mostly +around one thing—a woman—a dream woman—because I never saw one that +seemed to fit in until I ran across you." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Wagstaff," Hazel pleaded, "won't you please stop talking like +that? It isn't—it isn't—" +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't proper, I suppose," Bill supplied dryly. "Now, that's merely an +error, and a fundamental error on your part, little person. Our +emotion and instincts are perfectly proper when you get down to +fundamentals. You've got an artificial standard to judge by, that's +all. And I don't suppose you have the least idea how many lives are +spoiled one way and another by the operation of those same artificial +standards in this little old world. Now, I may seem to you a lawless, +unprincipled individual indeed, because I've acted contrary to your +idea of the accepted order of things. But here's my side of it: I'm in +search of happiness. We all are. I have a few ideals—and very few +illusions. I don't quite believe in this thing called love at first +sight. That presupposes a volatility of emotion that people of any +strength of character arc not likely to indulge in. But—for instance, +a man can have a very definite ideal of the kind of woman he would like +for a mate, the kind of woman he could be happy with and could make +happy. And whenever he finds a woman who corresponds to that ideal +he's apt to make a strenuous attempt to get her. That's pretty much +how I felt about you." +</P> + +<P> +"You had no right to kidnap me," Hazel cried. +</P> + +<P> +"You had no business getting lost and making it possible for me to +carry you off," Bill replied. "Isn't that logic?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll never forgive you," Hazel flashed. "It was treacherous and +unmanly. There are other ways of winning a woman." +</P> + +<P> +"There wasn't any other way open to me." Bill grew suddenly moody. +"Not with you in Cariboo Meadows. I'm taboo there. You'd have got a +history of me that would have made you cut me dead; you may have had +the tale of my misdeeds for all I know. No, it was impossible for me +to get acquainted with you in the conventional way. I knew that, and +so I didn't make any effort. Why, I'd have been at your elbow when you +left the supper table at Jim Briggs' that night if I hadn't known how +it would be. I went there out of sheer curiosity to take a look at +you—maybe out of a spirit of defiance, too, because I knew that I was +certainly not welcome even if they were willing to take my money for a +meal. And I came away all up in the air. There was something about +you—the tone of your voice, the way your proud little head is set on +your shoulders, your make-up in general—that sent me away with a +large-sized grouch at myself, at Cariboo Meadows, and at you for coming +in my way." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" she asked in wonder. +</P> + +<P> +"Because you'd have believed what they told you, and Cariboo Meadows +can't tell anything about me that isn't bad," he said quietly. "My +record there makes me entirely unfit to associate with—that would have +been your conclusion. And I wanted to be with you, to talk to you, to +take you by storm and make you like me as I felt I could care for you. +You can't have grown up, little person, without realizing that you do +attract men very strongly. All women do, but some far more than +others." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps," she admitted coldly. "Men have annoyed me with their +unwelcome attentions. But none of them ever dared go the length of +carrying me away against my will. You can't explain or excuse that." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not attempting excuses," Bill made answer. "There are two things +I never do—apologize or bully. I dare say that's one reason the +Meadows gives me such a black eye. In the first place, the confounded, +ignorant fools did me a very great injustice, and I've never taken the +trouble to explain to them wherein they were wrong. I came into this +country with a partner six years ago—a white man, if ever one +lived—about the only real man friend I ever had. He was known to have +over three thousand dollars on his person. He took sick and died the +second year, at the head of the Peace, in midwinter. I buried him; +couldn't take him out. Somehow the yarn got to going in the Meadows +that I'd murdered him for his money. The gossip started there because +we had an argument about outfitting while we were there, and roasted +each other as only real pals can. So they got it into their heads I +killed him, and tried to have the provincial police investigate. It +made me hot, and so I wouldn't explain to anybody the circumstances, +nor what became of Dave's three thousand, which happened to be five +thousand by that time, and which I sent to his mother and sister in New +York, as he told me to do when he was dying. When they got to hinting +things the next time I hit the Meadows, I started in to clean out the +town. I think I whipped about a dozen men that time. And once or +twice every season since I've been in the habit of dropping in there +and raising the very devil out of sheer resentment. It's a wonder some +fellow hasn't killed me, for it's a fact that I've thrashed every man +in the blamed place except Jim Briggs—and some of them two or three +times. And I make them line up at the bar and drink at my expense, and +all that sort of foolishness. +</P> + +<P> +"That may sound to you like real depravity," he concluded, "but it's a +fact in nature that a man has to blow the steam off his chest about +every so often. I have got drunk in Cariboo Meadows, and I have raised +all manner of disturbances there, partly out of pure animal spirits, +and mostly because I had a grudge against them. Consequently I really +have given them reason to look askance at any one—particularly a nice +girl from the East—who would have anything to do with me. If they +weren't a good deal afraid of me, and always laying for a chance to do +me up, they wouldn't let me stay in the town overnight. So you can see +what a handicap I was under when it came to making your acquaintance +and courting you in the orthodox manner." +</P> + +<P> +"You've made a great mistake," she said bitterly, "if you think you've +removed the handicap. I've suffered a great deal at the hands of men +in the past six months. I'm beginning to believe that all men are +brutes at heart." +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill sat up and clasped his hands over his knees and stared +fixedly into the fire. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he said slowly, "all men are not brutes—any more than all women +are angels. I'll convince you of that." +</P> + +<P> +"Take me home, then," she cried forlornly. "That's the only way you +can convince me or make amends." +</P> + +<P> +"No," Bill murmured, "that isn't the way. Wait till you know me +better. Besides, I couldn't take you out now if I wanted to without +exposing you to greater hardships than you'll have to endure here. Do +you realize that it's fall, and we're in the high latitudes? This snow +may not go off at all. Even if it does it will storm again before a +week. You couldn't wallow through snow to your waist in +forty-below-zero weather." +</P> + +<P> +"People will pass here, and I'll get word out," Hazel asserted +desperately. +</P> + +<P> +"What good would that do you? You've got too much conventional regard +for what you term your reputation to send word to Cariboo Meadows that +you're living back here with Roaring Bill Wagstaff, and won't some one +please come and rescue you." He paused to let that sink in, then +continued: "Besides, you won't see a white face before spring; then +only by accident. No one in the North, outside of a few Indians, has +ever seen this cabin or knows where it stands." +</P> + +<P> +She sat there, dumb, raging inwardly. For the minute she could have +killed Roaring Bill. She who had been so sure in her independence +carried, whether or no, into the heart of the wilderness at the whim of +a man who stood a self-confessed rowdy, in ill repute among his own +kind. There was a slumbering devil in Miss Hazel Weir, and it took +little to wake her temper. She looked at Bill Wagstaff, and her breast +heaved. He was responsible, and he could sit coolly talking about it. +The resentment that had smoldered against Andrew Bush and Jack Barrow +concentrated on Roaring Bill as the arch offender of them all. And +lest she yield to a savage impulse to scream at him, she got up and ran +into the bedroom, slammed the door shut behind her, and threw herself +across the bed to muffle the sound of her crying in a pillow. +</P> + +<P> +After a time she lifted her head. Outside, the wind whistled gustily +around the cabin corners. In the hushed intervals she heard a steady +pad, pad, sounding sometimes close by her door, again faintly at the +far end of the room. A beam of light shone through the generous +latchstring hole in the door. Stealing softly over, she peeped through +this hole. From end to end of the big room and back again Roaring Bill +paced slowly, looking straight ahead of him with a fixed, absent stare, +his teeth closed on his nether lip. Hazel blinked wonderingly. Many +an hour in the last three months she had walked the floor like that, +biting her lip in mental agony. And then, while she was looking, Bill +abruptly extinguished the candles. In the red gleam from the hearth +she saw him go into the kitchen, closing the door softly. After that +there was no sound but the swirl of the storm brushing at her window. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WINTER—AND A TRUCE +</H3> + + +<P> +In line with Roaring Bill's forecast, the weather cleared for a brief +span, and then winter shut down in earnest. Successive falls of snow +overlaid the earth with a three-foot covering, loose and feathery in +the depths of the forest, piled in hard, undulating windrows in the +scattered openings. Daily the cold increased, till a half-inch layer +of frost stood on the cabin panes. The cold, intense, unremitting, +lorded it over a vast realm of wood and stream; lakes and rivers were +locked fast under ice, and through the clear, still nights the aurora +flaunted its shimmering banners across the northern sky. +</P> + +<P> +But within the cabin they were snug and warm, Bill's ax kept the +woodpile high. The two fireplaces shone red the twenty-four hours +through. Of flour, tea, coffee, sugar, beans, and such stuff as could +only be gotten from the outside he had a plentiful supply. Potatoes +and certain vegetables that he had grown in a cultivated patch behind +the cabin were stored in a deep cellar. He could always sally forth +and get meat. And the ice was no bar to fishing, for he would cut a +hole, sink a small net, and secure overnight a week's supply of trout +and whitefish. Thus their material wants were provided for. +</P> + +<P> +As time passed Hazel gradually shook off a measure of her depression, +thrust her uneasiness and resentment into the background. As a matter +of fact, she resigned herself to getting through the winter, since that +was inevitable. She was out of the world, the only world she knew, and +by reason of the distance and the snows there was scant chance of +getting back to that world while winter gripped the North. The spring +might bring salvation. But spring was far in the future, too far ahead +to dwell upon. As much as possible, she refrained from thinking, +wisely contenting herself with getting through one day after another. +</P> + +<P> +And in so doing she fell into the way of doing little things about the +house, finding speedily that time flew when she busied herself at some +task in the intervals of delving in Roaring Bill's library. +</P> + +<P> +She could cook—and she did. Her first meal came about by grace of +Roaring Bill's absence. He was hunting, and supper time drew nigh. +She grew hungry, and, on the impulse of the moment, turned herself +loose in the kitchen—largely in a mood for experiment. She had +watched Bill make all manner of things in his Dutch ovens, and observed +how he prepared meat over the glowing coals often enough to get the +hang of it. Wherefore, her first meal was a success. When Roaring +Bill came in, an hour after dark, he found her with cheeks rosy from +leaning over the fire, and a better meal than he could prepare all +waiting for him. He washed and sat down. Hazel discarded her +flour-sack apron and took her place opposite. Bill made no comment +until he had finished and lighted a cigarette. +</P> + +<P> +"You're certainly a jewel, little person," he drawled then. "How many +more accomplishments have you got up your sleeve?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you consider ordinary cooking an accomplishment?" she returned +lightly. +</P> + +<P> +"I surely do," he replied, "when I remember what an awful mess I made +of it on the start. I certainly did spoil a lot of good grub." +</P> + +<P> +After that they divided the household duties, and Hazel forgot that she +had vowed to make Bill Wagstaff wait on her hand and foot as the only +penalty she could inflict for his misdeeds. It seemed petty when she +considered the matter, and there was nothing petty about Hazel Weir. +If the chance ever offered, she would make him suffer, but in the +meantime there was no use in being childish. +</P> + +<P> +She did not once experience the drear loneliness that had sat on her +like a dead weight the last month before she turned her back on +Granville and its unhappy associations. For one thing, Bill Wagstaff +kept her intellectually on the jump. He was always precipitating an +argument or discussion of some sort, in which she invariably came off +second best. His scope of knowledge astonished her, as did his +language. Bill mixed slang, the colloquialisms of the frontier, and +the terminology of modern scientific thought with quaint impartiality. +There were times when he talked clear over her head. And he was by +turns serious and boyish, with always a saving sense of humor. So that +she was eternally discovering new sides to him. +</P> + +<P> +The other refuge for her was his store of books. Upon the shelves she +found many a treasure-trove—books that she had promised herself to +read some day when she could buy them and had leisure. Roaring Bill +had collected bits of the world's best in poetry and fiction; and last, +but by no means least, the books that stand for evolution and +revolution, philosophy, economics, sociology, and the kindred sciences. +Bill was not orderly. He could put his finger on any book he wanted, +but on his shelves like as not she would find a volume of Haeckel and +another of Bobbie Burns side by side, or a last year's novel snuggling +up against a treatise on social psychology. She could not understand +why a man—a young man—with the intellectual capacity to digest the +stuff that Roaring Bill frequently became immersed in should choose to +bury himself in the wilderness. And once, in an unguarded moment, she +voiced that query. Bill closed a volume of Nietzsche, marking the +place with his forefinger, and looked at her thoughtfully over the book. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "there are one or two good and sufficient reasons, to +which you, of course, may not agree. First, though, I'll venture to +assert that your idea of the nature and purpose of life as we humans +know and experience it is rather hazy. Have you ever seriously asked +yourself why we exist as entities at all? And, seeing that we do find +ourselves possessed of this existence, what constrains us to act along +certain lines?" +</P> + +<P> +Hazel shook her head. That was an abstraction which she had never +considered. She had been too busy living to make a critical analysis +of life. She had the average girl's conception of life, when she +thought of it at all, as a state of being born, of growing up, of +marrying, of trying to be happy, and ultimately—very remotely—of +dying. And she had also the conventional idea that activity in the +world, the world as she knew it, the doing of big things in a public or +semi-public way, was the proper sphere for people of exceptional +ability. But why this should be so, what law, natural or fabricated by +man, made it so she had never asked herself. She had found it so, and +taken it for granted. Roaring Bill Wagstaff was the first man to cross +her path who viewed the struggle for wealth and fame and power as other +than inevitable and desirable. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, little person," he went on, "we have some very definite +requirements which come of the will to live that dominates all life. +We must eat, we must protect our bodies against the elements, and we +need for comfort some sort of shelter. But in securing these +essentials to self-preservation where is the difference, except in +method, between the banker who manipulates millions and the post-hole +digger on the farm? Not a darned bit, in reality. They're both after +exactly the same thing—security against want. If the post-hole +digger's wants are satisfied by two dollars a day he is getting the +same result as the banker, whose standard of living crowds his big +income. Having secured the essentials, then, what is the next urge of +life? Happiness. That, however, brings us to a more abstract question. +</P> + +<P> +"In the main, though, that's my answer to your question. Here I can +secure myself a good living—as a matter of fact, I can easily get the +wherewithal to purchase any luxuries that I desire—and it is gotten +without a petty-larceny struggle with my fellow men. Here I exploit +only natural resources, take only what the earth has prodigally +provided. Why should I live in the smoke and sordid clutter of a town +when I love the clean outdoors? The best citizen is the man with a +sound mind and a strong, healthy body; and the only obligation any of +us has to society is not to be a burden on society. So I live in the +wilds the greater part of the year, I keep my muscles in trim, and I +have always food for myself and for any chance wayfarer—and I can look +everybody in the eye and tell them to go to the fiery regions if I +happen to feel that way. What business would I have running a grocery +store, or a bank, or a real-estate office, when all my instincts rebel +against it? What normal being wants to be chained to a desk between +four walls eight or ten hours a day fifty weeks in the year? I'll bet +a nickel there was many a time when you were clacking a typewriter for +a living that you'd have given anything to get out in the green fields +for a while. Isn't that so?" +</P> + +<P> +Hazel admitted it. +</P> + +<P> +"You see," Bill concluded, "this civilization of ours, with its +peculiar business ethics, and its funny little air of importance, is a +comparatively recent thing—a product of the last two or three thousand +years, to give it its full historic value. And mankind has been a +great many millions of years in the making, all of which has been spent +under primitive conditions. So that we are as yet barbarians, savages +even, with just a little veneer. Why, man, as such, is only beginning +to get a glimmering of his relation to the universe. Pshaw, though! I +didn't set out to deliver a lecture on evolution. But, believe me, +little person, if I thought that any great good or happiness would +result from my being elsewhere, from scrapping with my fellows in the +world crush, I'd be there with both feet. Do you think you'd be more +apt to care for me if I were to get out and try to set the world afire +with great deeds?" +</P> + +<P> +"That wasn't the question," she returned distantly, trying, as she +always did, to keep him off the personal note. +</P> + +<P> +"But it is the question with me," he declared. "I don't know why I let +you go on flouting me." He reached over and caught her arm with a grip +that made her wince. The sudden leap of passion into his eyes +quickened the beat of her heart. "I could break you in two with my +hands without half trying—tame you as the cave men tamed their women, +by main strength. But I don't—by reason of the same peculiar feeling +that would keep me from kicking a man when he was down, I suppose. +Little person, why can't you like me better?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because you tricked me," she retorted hotly. "Because I trusted you, +and you used that trust to lead me farther astray. Any woman would +hate a man for that. What do you suppose—you, with your knowledge of +life—the world will think of me when I get out of here?" +</P> + +<P> +But Roaring Bill had collected himself, and sat smiling, and made no +reply. He looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds, then resumed +his reading of the Mad Philosopher, out of whose essays he seemed to +extract a great deal of quiet amusement. +</P> + +<P> +A day or two after that Hazel came into the kitchen and found Bill +piling towels, napkins, and a great quantity of other soiled articles +on an outspread tablecloth. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," she inquired, "what are you going to do with those?" +</P> + +<P> +"Take 'em to the laundry," he laughed. "Collect your dirty duds, and +bring them forth." +</P> + +<P> +"Laundry!" Hazel echoed. It seemed rather a far-fetched joke. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure! You don't suppose we can get along forever without having +things washed, do you?" he replied. "I don't mind housework, but I do +draw the line at a laundry job when I don't <I>have</I> to do it. Go +on—get your clothes." +</P> + +<P> +So she brought out her accumulation of garments, and laid them on the +pile. Bill tied up the four corners of the tablecloth. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," said he, "let's see if we can't fit you out for a more or less +extended walk. You stay in the house altogether too much these days. +That's bad business. Nothing like exercise in the fresh air." +</P> + +<P> +Thus in a few minutes Hazel fared forth, wrapped in Bill's fur coat, a +flap-eared cap on her head, and on her feet several pairs of stockings +inside moccasins that Bill had procured from some mysterious source a +day or two before. +</P> + +<P> +The day was sunny, albeit the air was hazy with multitudes of floating +frost particles, and the tramp through the forest speedily brought the +roses back to her cheeks. Bill carried the bundle of linen on his +back, and trudged steadily through the woods. But the riddle of his +destination was soon read to her, for a two-mile walk brought them out +on the shore of a fair-sized lake, on the farther side of which loomed +the conical lodges of an Indian camp. +</P> + +<P> +"You sabe now?" said he as they crossed the ice. "This bunch generally +comes in here about this time, and stays till spring. I get the squaws +to wash for me. Ever see Mr. Indian on his native heath?" +</P> + +<P> +Hazel never had, and she was duly interested, even if a trifle shy of +the red brother who stared so fixedly. She entered a lodge with Bill, +and listened to him make laundry arrangements in broken English with a +withered old beldame whose features resembled a ham that had hung +overlong in the smokehouse. Two or three blanketed bucks squatted by +the fire that sent its blue smoke streaming out the apex of the lodge. +</P> + +<P> +"Heap fine squaw!" one suddenly addressed Bill. "Where you ketchum?" +</P> + +<P> +Bill laughed at Hazel's confusion. "Away off." He gestured southward, +and the Indian grunted some unintelligible remark in his own tongue—at +which Roaring Bill laughed again. +</P> + +<P> +Before they started home Bill succeeded in purchasing, after much talk, +a pair of moccasins that Hazel conceded to be a work of art, what with +the dainty pattern of beads and the ornamentation of colored porcupine +quills. Her feminine soul could not cavil when Bill thrust them in the +pocket of her coat, even if her mind was set against accepting any +peace tokens at his hands. +</P> + +<P> +And so in the nearing sunset they went home through the frost-bitten +woods, where the snow crunched and squeaked under their feet, and the +branches broke off with a pistol-like snap when they were bent aside. +</P> + +<P> +A hundred yards from the cabin Bill challenged her to a race. She +refused to run, and he picked her up bodily, and ran with her to the +very door. He held her a second before he set her down, and Hazel's +face whitened. She could feel his breath on her cheek, and she could +feel his arms quiver, and the rapid beat of his heart. For an instant +she thought Roaring Bill Wagstaff was about to make the colossal +mistake of trying to kiss her. +</P> + +<P> +But he set her gently on her feet and opened the door. And by the time +he had his heavy outer clothes off and the fires started up he was +talking whimsically about their Indian neighbors, and Hazel breathed +more freely. The clearest impression that she had, aside from her +brief panic, was of his strength. He had run with her as easily as if +she had been a child. +</P> + +<P> +After that they went out many times together. Bill took her hunting, +initiated her into the mysteries of rifle shooting, and the +manipulation of a six-shooter. He taught her to walk on snowshoes, +lightly over the surface of the crusted snow, through which otherwise +she floundered. A sort of truce arose between them, and the days +drifted by without untoward incident, Bill tended to his horses, +chopped wood, carried water. She took upon herself the care of the +house. And through the long evenings, in default of conversation, they +would sit with a book on either side of the fireplace that roared +defiance to the storm gods without. +</P> + +<P> +And sometimes Hazel would find herself wondering why Roaring Bill +Wagstaff could not have come into her life in a different manner. As +it was—she never, <I>never</I> would forgive him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FIRES OF SPRING +</H3> + + +<P> +There came a day when the metallic brilliancy went out of the sky, and +it became softly, mistily blue. All that forenoon Hazel prowled +restlessly out of doors without cap or coat. There was a new feel in +the air. The deep winter snow had suddenly lost its harshness. A +tentative stillness wrapped the North as if the land rested a moment, +gathering its force for some titanic effort. +</P> + +<P> +Toward evening a mild breeze freshened from the southwest. The tender +blue of the sky faded at sundown to a slaty gray. Long wraiths of +cloud floated up with the rising wind. At ten o'clock a gale whooped +riotously through the trees. And at midnight Hazel wakened to a sound +that she had not heard in months. She rose and groped her way to the +window. The encrusting frost had vanished from the panes. They were +wet to the touch of her fingers. She unhooked the fastening, and swung +the window out. A great gust of damp, warm wind blew strands of hair +across her face. She leaned through the casement, and drops of cold +water struck her bare neck. That which she had heard was the dripping +eaves. The chinook wind droned its spring song, and the bare boughs of +the tree beside the cabin waved and creaked the time. Somewhere +distantly a wolf lifted up his voice, and the long, throaty howl +swelled in a lull of the wind. It was black and ghostly outside, and +strange, murmuring sounds rose and fell in the surrounding forests, as +though all the dormant life of the North was awakening at the seasonal +change. She closed the window and went back to bed. +</P> + +<P> +At dawn the eaves had ceased their drip, and the dirt roof laid bare to +the cloud-banked sky. From the southwest the wind still blew strong +and warm. The thick winter garment of the earth softened to slush, and +vanished with amazing swiftness. Streams of water poured down every +depression. Pools stood between the house and stable. Spring had +leaped strong-armed upon old Winter and vanquished him at the first +onslaught. +</P> + +<P> +All that day the chinook blew, working its magic upon the land. When +day broke again with a clearing sky, and the sun peered between the +cloud rifts, his beams fell upon vast areas of brown and green, where +but forty-eight hours gone there was the cold revelry of frost sprites +upon far-flung fields of snow. Patches of earth steamed wherever a +hillside lay bare to the sun. From some mysterious distance a lone +crow winged his way, and, perching on a near-by tree-top, cawed raucous +greeting. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel cleared away the breakfast things, and stood looking out the +kitchen window. Roaring Bill sat on a log, shirt-sleeved, smoking his +pipe. Presently he went over to the stable, led out his horses, and +gave them their liberty. For twenty minutes or so he stood watching +their mad capers as they ran and leaped and pranced back and forth over +the clearing. Then he walked off into the timber, his rifle over one +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel washed her dishes and went outside. The cabin sat on a benchlike +formation, a shoulder of the mountain behind, and she could look away +westward across miles and miles of timber, darkly green and merging +into purple in the distance. It was a beautiful land—and lonely. She +did not know why, but all at once a terrible feeling of utter +forlornness seized her. It was spring—and also it was spring in other +lands. The wilderness suddenly took on the characteristics of a +prison, in which she was sentenced to solitary confinement. She +rebelled against it, rebelled against her surroundings, against the +manner of her being there, against everything. She hated the North, +she wished to be gone from it, and most of all she hated Bill Wagstaff +for constraining her presence there. In six months she had not seen a +white face, nor spoken to a woman of her own blood. Out beyond that +sea of forest lay the big, active world in which she belonged, of which +she was a part, and she felt that she must get somewhere, do something, +or go mad. +</P> + +<P> +All the heaviness of heart, all the resentment she had felt in the +first few days when she followed him perforce away from Cariboo +Meadows, came back to her with redoubled force that forenoon. She went +back into the house, now gloomy without a fire, slumped forlornly into +a chair, and cried herself into a condition approaching hysteria. And +she was sitting there, her head bowed on her hands, when Bill returned +from his hunting. The sun sent a shaft through the south window, a +shaft which rested on her drooping head. Roaring Bill walked softly up +behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, little person?" he asked gently. +</P> + +<P> +She refused to answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Say," he bent a little lower, "you know what the Tentmaker said: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"'Come fill the cup, and in the fire of Spring<BR> +Your Winter garment of Repentance fling;<BR> +The Bird of Time has but a little way<BR> +To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing.'<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Life's too short to waste any of it in being uselessly miserable. +Come on out and go for a ride on Silk. I'll take you up on a +mountainside, and show you a waterfall that leaps three hundred feet in +the clear. The woods are waking up and putting on their Easter +bonnets. There's beauty everywhere. Come along!" +</P> + +<P> +She wrenched herself away from him. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to go home!" she wailed. "I hate you and the North, and +everything in it. If you've got a spark of manhood left in you, you'll +take me out of here." +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill backed away from her. "Do you mean that? Honest Injun?" +he asked incredulously. +</P> + +<P> +"I do—I do!" she cried vehemently. "Haven't I told you often enough? +I didn't come here willingly, and I won't stay. I will not! I have a +right to live my life in my own way, and it's not this way." +</P> + +<P> +"So," Roaring Bill began evenly, "springtime with you only means +getting back to work. You want to get back into the muddled rush of +peopled places, do you? For what? To teach a class in school, or to +be some business shark's slave of the typewriter at ten dollars a week? +You want to be where you can associate with fluffy-ruffle, pompadoured +girls, and be properly introduced to equally proper young men. Lord, +but I seem to have made a mistake! And, by the same token, I'll +probably pay for it—in a way you wouldn't understand if you lived a +thousand years. Well, set your mind at rest. I'll take you out. I'll +take you back to your stamping-ground if that's what you crave. Ye +gods and little fishes, but I have sure been a fool!" +</P> + +<P> +He sat down on the edge of the table, and Hazel blinked at him, half +scared, and full of wonder. She had grown so used to seeing him calm, +imperturbable, smiling cheerfully no matter what she said or did, that +his passionate outbreak amazed her. She could only sit and look at him. +</P> + +<P> +He got out his cigarette materials. But his fingers trembled, spilling +the tobacco. And when he tore the paper in his efforts to roll it, he +dashed paper and all into the fireplace with something that sounded +like an oath, and walked out of the house. Nor did he return till the +sun was well down toward the tree-rimmed horizon. When he came back he +brought in an armful of wood and kindling, and began to build a fire. +Hazel came out of her room. Bill greeted her serenely. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, little person," he said, "I hope you'll perk up now." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll try," she returned. "Are you really going to take me out?" +</P> + +<P> +Bill paused with a match blazing in his fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean,"' he answered +dryly. "We'll start in the morning." +</P> + +<P> +The dark closed in on them, and they cooked and ate supper in silence. +Bill remained thoughtful and abstracted. He slouched for a time in his +chair by the fire. Then from some place among his books he unearthed a +map, and, spreading it on the table, studied it a while. After that he +dragged in his kyaks from outside, and busied himself packing them with +supplies for a journey—tea and coffee and flour and such things done +up in small canvas sacks. +</P> + +<P> +And when these preparations were complete he got a sheet of paper and a +pencil, and fell to copying something from the map. He was still at +that, sketching and marking, when Hazel went to bed. +</P> + +<P> +By all the signs and tokens, Roaring Bill Wagstaff slept none that +night. Hazel herself tossed wakefully, and during her wakeful moments +she could hear him stir in the outer room. And a full hour before +daylight he called her to breakfast. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE OUT TRAIL +</H3> + + +<P> +"This time last spring," Bill said to her, "I was piking away north of +those mountains, bound for the head of the Naas to prospect for gold." +</P> + +<P> +They were camped in a notch on the tiptop of a long divide, a thousand +feet above the general level. A wide valley rolled below, and from the +height they overlooked two great, sinuous lakes and a multitude of +smaller ones. The mountain range to which Bill pointed loomed seventy +miles distance, angling northwest. The sun glinted on the snow-capped +peaks, though they themselves were in the shadow. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been wondering," Hazel said. "This country somehow seems +different. You're not going back to Cariboo Meadows, are you?" +</P> + +<P> +Bill bestowed a look of surprise on her. +</P> + +<P> +"I should say not!" he drawled. "Not that it would make any difference +to me. But I'm very sure you don't want to turn up there in my +company." +</P> + +<P> +"That's true," she observed. "But all the clothes and all the money I +have in the world are there." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't let money worry you," he said briefly. "I have got plenty to +see you through. And you can easily buy clothes." +</P> + +<P> +They were now ten days on the road. Their course had lain across low, +rolling country, bordered by rugged hills, spotted with lakes, and cut +here and there by streams that put Bill Wagstaff to many strange shifts +in crossing. But upon leaving this camp they crossed a short stretch +of low country, and then struck straight into the heart of a +mountainous region. Steadily they climbed, reaching up through gloomy +cañons where foaming cataracts spilled themselves over sheer walls of +granite, where the dim and narrow pack trail was crossed and recrossed +with the footprints of bear and deer and the snowy-coated mountain +goat. The spring weather held its own, and everywhere was the pleasant +smell of growing things. Overhead the wild duck winged his way in +aerial squadrons to the vast solitudes of the North. +</P> + +<P> +Roaring Bill lighted his evening fire at last at the apex of the pass. +He had traveled long after sundown, seeking a camp ground where his +horses could graze. The fire lit up huge firs, and high above the fir +tops the sky was studded with stars, brilliant in the thin atmosphere. +They ate, and, being weary, lay down to sleep. At sunrise Hazel sat up +and looked about her in silent, wondering appreciation. All the world +spread east and west below. Bill squatted by the fire, piling on wood, +and he caught the expression on her face. +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't it great?" he said. "I ran across some verses in a magazine a +long time ago. They just fit this, and they've been running in my head +ever since I woke up: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"'All night long my heart has cried<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">For the starry moors</SPAN><BR> +And the mountain's ragged flank<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the plunge of oars.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +'Oh, to feel the Wind grow strong<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Where the Trail leaps down.</SPAN><BR> +I could never learn the way<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And wisdom of the town.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +'Where the hill heads split the Tide<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of green and living air</SPAN><BR> +I would press Adventure hard<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To her deepest lair.'</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"The last verse is the best of all," he said thoughtfully. "It has +been my litany ever since I first read it: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"'I would let the world's rebuke<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Like a wind go by,</SPAN><BR> +With my naked soul laid bare<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To the naked Sky.'</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"And here you are," he murmured, "hotfooting it back to where the +world's rebuke is always in evidence, always ready to sting you like a +hot iron if you should chance to transgress one of its petty-larceny +dictums. Well, you'll soon be there. Can you see a glint of blue away +down there? No? Take the glasses." +</P> + +<P> +She adjusted the binoculars and peered westward from the great height +where the camp sat. Distantly, and far below, the green of the forest +broke down to a hazy line of steel-blue that ran in turn to a huge fog +bank, snow-white in the rising sun. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I can see it now," she said. "A lake?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Salt water—a long arm of the Pacific," he replied. "That's +where you and I part company—to your very great relief, I dare say. +But look off in the other direction. Lord, you can see two hundred +miles! If it weren't for the Babine Range sticking up you could look +clear to where my cabin stands. What an outlook! Tens of thousands of +square miles of timber and lakes and rivers! Sunny little valleys; +fish and game everywhere; soil that will grow anything. And scarcely a +soul in it all, barring here and there a fur post or a stray +prospector. Yet human beings by the million herd in filthy tenements, +and never see a blade of green grass the year around. +</P> + +<P> +"I told you, I think, about prospecting on the head of the Naas last +spring. I fell in with another fellow up there, and we worked +together, and early in the season made a nice little clean-up on a +gravel bar. I have another place spotted, by the way, that would work +out a fortune if a fellow wanted to spend a couple of thousand putting +in some simple machinery. However, when the June rise drove us off our +bar, I pulled clear out of the country. Just took a notion to see the +bright lights again. And I didn't stop short of New York. Do you +know, I lasted there just one week by the calendar. It seems funny, +when you think of it, that a man with three thousand dollars to spend +should get lonesome in a place like New York. But I did. And at the +end of a week I flew. The sole memento of that trip was a couple of +Russell prints—and a very bad taste in my mouth. I had all that money +burning my pockets—and, all told, I didn't spend five hundred. Fancy +a man jumping over four thousand miles to have a good time, and then +running away from it. It was very foolish of me, I think now. If I +had stuck and got acquainted with somebody, and taken in all the good +music, the theaters, and the giddy cafés I wouldn't have got home and +blundered into Cariboo Meadows at the psychological moment to make a +different kind of fool of myself. Well, the longer we live the more we +learn. Day after to-morrow you'll be in Bella Coola. The cannery +steamships carry passengers on a fairly regular schedule to Vancouver. +How does that suit you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," she answered shortly. +</P> + +<P> +"And you haven't the least twinge of regret at leaving all this?" He +waved his hand in a comprehensive sweep. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't happen to have your peculiar point of view," she returned. +"The circumstances connected with my coming into this country and with +my staying here are such as to make me anxious to get away." +</P> + +<P> +"Same old story," Bill muttered under his breath. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" she asked sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, nothing," he said carelessly, and went on with his breakfast +preparations. +</P> + +<P> +They finished the meal. Bill got his horses up beside the fire, +loading on the packs. Hazel sat on the trunk of a winter-broken fir, +waiting his readiness to start. She heard no sound behind her. But +she did see Roaring Bill stiffen and his face blanch under its tan. +Twenty feet away his rifle leaned against a tree; his belt and +six-shooter hung on a limb above it. He was tucking a keen-edged +hatchet under the pack lashing. And, swinging this up, he jumped—it +seemed—straight at her. But his eyes were fixed on something beyond. +</P> + +<P> +Before she could move, or even turn to look, so sudden was his +movement, Bill was beside her. The sound of a crunching blow reached +her ears. In the same instant a heavy body collided with her, knocking +her flat. A great weight, a weight which exhaled a rank animal odor, +rolled over her. Her clutching hands briefly encountered some hairy +object. Then she was slammed against the fallen tree with a force that +momentarily stunned her. +</P> + +<P> +When she opened her eyes again Roaring Bill had her head in his lap, +peering anxiously down. She caught a glimpse of the unsteady hand that +held a cup of water, and she struggled to a sitting posture with a +shudder. Bill's shirt was ripped from the neckband to the wrist, +baring his sinewy arm. And hand, arm, and shoulder were spattered with +fresh blood. His face was spotted where he had smeared it with his +bloody hand. Close by, so close that she could almost reach it, lay +the grayish-black carcass of a bear, Bill's hatchet buried in the +skull, as a woodsman leaves his ax blade stuck in a log. +</P> + +<P> +"Feel all right?" Bill asked. His voice was husky. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes," she assured him. "Except for a sort of sickening feeling. +Are you hurt?" +</P> + +<P> +He shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you were broken in two," he muttered.. "We both fell right +on top of you. Ugh!" +</P> + +<P> +He sat down on the tree and rested his head on his bloodstained hands, +and Hazel saw that he was quivering from head to foot. She got up and +went over to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you sure you aren't hurt?" she asked again. +</P> + +<P> +He looked up at her; big sweat drops were gathering on his face. +</P> + +<P> +"Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared. You looked as if you +were dead, lying there so white and still." +</P> + +<A NAME="img-150"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-150.jpg" ALT=""Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared."" BORDER="2" WIDTH="404" HEIGHT="581"> +<H3> +[Illustration: "Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared."] +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<P> +He reached out one long arm and drew her up close to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Little person," he whispered, "if you just cared one little bit as +much as I do, it would be all right. Look at me. Just the thought of +what might have happened to you has set every nerve in my body jumping. +I'm Samson shorn. Why can't you care? I'd be gooder than gold to +<I>you</I>." +</P> + +<P> +She drew herself away from him without answering—not in fear, but +because her code of ethics, the repressive conventions of her whole +existence urged her to do so in the face of a sudden yearning to draw +his bloody face up close to her and kiss it. The very thought, the +swift surge of the impulse frightened her, shocked her. She could not +understand it, and so she took refuge behind the woman instinct to hold +back, that strange feminine paradox which will deny and shrink from the +dominant impulses of life. And Roaring Bill made no effort to hold +her. He let her go, and fumbled for a handkerchief to wipe his +glistening face. And presently he went over to where a little stream +bubbled among the tree roots and washed his hands and face. Then he +got a clean shirt out of his war bag and disappeared into the brush to +change. When he came out he was himself again, if a bit sober in +expression. +</P> + +<P> +He finished his packing without further words. Not till the pack +horses were ready, and Silk saddled for her, did he speak again. Then +he cast a glance at the dead bear. +</P> + +<P> +"By Jove!" he remarked. "I'm about to forget my tomahawk." +</P> + +<P> +He poked tentatively at the furry carcass with his toe. Hazel came up +and took a curious survey of fallen Bruin. Bill laid hold of the +hatchet and wrenched it loose. +</P> + +<P> +"I've hunted more or less all my life," he observed, "and I've seen +bear under many different conditions. But this is the first time I +ever saw a bear tackle anybody without cause or warning. I guess this +beggar was strictly on the warpath, looking for trouble on general +principles." +</P> + +<P> +"Was he after me?" Hazel asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't know whether he had a grudge against you," Bill smiled. +"But he was sure coming with his mouth open and his arms spread wide. +You notice I didn't take time to go after my rifle, and I'm not a +foolhardy person as a rule. I don't tackle a grizzly with a hatchet +unless I'm cornered, believe me. It was lucky he wasn't overly big. +At that, I can feel my hair stand up when I think how he would have +mussed us up if I'd missed that first swing at his head. You'll never +have a closer call. And the same thing might not happen again if you +lived in a bear country for thirty years. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a pity to let that good skin rot here," Bill concluded slowly; +"but I guess I will. I don't want his pelt. It would always be a +reminder of things—things I'd just as soon forget." +</P> + +<P> +He tucked the hatchet in its place on the pack. Hazel swung up on +Silk. They tipped over the crest of the mountain, and began the long +descent. +</P> + +<P> +The evening of the third day from there Bill traveled till dusk. When +camp was made and the fire started, he called Hazel to one side, up on +a little rocky knoll, and pointed out a half dozen pin points of yellow +glimmering distantly in the dark. +</P> + +<P> +"That's Bella Coola," he told her. "And unless they've made a radical +change in their sailing schedules there should be a boat clear +to-morrow at noon." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DRONE OF THE HIVE +</H3> + + +<P> +A black cloud of smoke was rolling up from the funnel of the <I>Stanley +D.</I> as Bill Wagstaff piloted Hazel from the grimy Bella Coola hotel to +the wharf. +</P> + +<P> +"There aren't many passengers," he told her. "They're mostly cannery +men. But you'll have the captain's wife to chaperon you. She happens +to be making the trip." +</P> + +<P> +When they were aboard and the cabin boy had shown them to what was +dignified by the name of stateroom, Bill drew a long envelope from his +pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"Here," he said, "is a little money. I hope you won't let any foolish +pride stand in the way of using it freely. It came easy to me. I dug +it out of Mother Earth, and there's plenty more where it came from. +Seeing that I deprived you of access to your own money and all your +personal belongings, you are entitled to this any way you look at it. +And I want to throw in a bit of gratuitous advice—in case you should +conclude to go back to the Meadows. They probably looked high and low +for you. But there is no chance for them to learn where you actually +did get to unless you yourself tell them. The most plausible +explanation—and if you go there you must make some explanation—would +be for you to say that you got lost—which is true enough—and that you +eventually fell in with a party of Indians, and later on connected up +with a party of white people who were traveling coastward. That you +wintered with them, and they put you on a steamer and sent you to +Vancouver when spring opened. +</P> + +<P> +"That, I guess, is all," he concluded slowly. "Only I wish"—he caught +her by the shoulders and shook her gently—"I sure do wish it could +have been different, little person. Maybe you'll have a kindlier +feeling for this big old North when you get back into your cities and +towns, with their smoke and smells and business sharks, where it's +everybody for himself and the devil take the hindmost. Maybe some time +when I get restless for human companionship and come out to cavort in +the bright lights for a while, I may pass you on a street somewhere. +This world is very small. Oh, yes—when you get to Vancouver go to the +Ladysmith. It's a nice, quiet hotel in the West End. Any hack driver +knows the place." +</P> + +<P> +He dropped his hands, and looked steadily at her for a few seconds, +steadily and longingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-by!" he said abruptly—and walked out, and down the gangplank +that was already being cast loose, and away up the wharf without a +backward glance. +</P> + +<P> +The <I>Stanley D.'s</I> siren woke the echoes along the wooded shore. A +throbbing that shook her from stem to stern betokened the first +turnings of the screw. And slowly she backed into deep water and swung +wide for the outer passage. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel went out to the rail. Bill Wagstaff had disappeared, but +presently she caught sight of him standing on the shore end of the +wharf, his hands thrust deep in his coat pockets, staring after the +steamer. Hazel waved the envelope that she still held in her hand. +Now that she was independent of him, she felt magnanimous, +forgiving—and suddenly very much alone, as if she had dropped back +into the old, depressing Granville atmosphere. But he gave no +answering sign save that he turned on the instant and went up the hill +to where his horses stood tied among the huddled buildings. And within +twenty minutes the <I>Stanley D.</I> turned a jutting point, and Bella Coola +was lost to view. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel went back into her stateroom and sat down on the berth. +Presently she opened the envelope. There was a thick fold of bills, +her ticket, and both were wrapped in a sheet of paper penciled with +dots and crooked lines. She laid it aside and counted the money. +</P> + +<P> +"Heavens!" she whispered. "I wish he hadn't given me so much. I +didn't need all that." +</P> + +<P> +For Roaring Bill had tucked a dozen one-hundred-dollar notes in the +envelope. And, curiously enough, she was not offended, only wishful +that he had been less generous. Twelve hundred dollars was a lot of +money, far more than she needed, and she did not know how she could +return it. She sat a long time with the money in her lap, thinking. +Then she took up the map, recognizing it as the sheet of paper Bill had +worked over so long their last night at the cabin. +</P> + +<P> +It made the North more clear—a great deal more clear—to her, for he +had marked Cariboo Meadows, the location of his cabin, and Bella Coola, +and drawn dotted lines to indicate the way he had taken her in and +brought her out. The Fraser and its tributaries, some of the crossings +that she remembered were sketched in, the mountains and the lakes by +which his trail had wound. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if that's a challenge to my vindictive disposition?" she +murmured. "I told him so often that I'd make him sweat for his +treachery if ever I got a chance. Ah well—" +</P> + +<P> +She put away the money and the map, and bestowed a brief scrutiny upon +herself in the cabin mirror. Six months in the wild had given her a +ruddy color, the glow of perfect physical condition. But her garments +were tattered and sadly out of date. The wardrobe of the steamer-trunk +lady had suffered in the winter's wear. She was barely presentable in +the outing suit of corduroy. So that she was inclined to be diffident +about her appearance, and after a time when she was not thinking of the +strange episodes of the immediate past, her mind, womanlike, began to +dwell on civilization and decent clothes. +</P> + +<P> +The <I>Stanley D.</I> bore down Bentick Arm and on through Burke Channel to +the troubled waters of Queen Charlotte Sound, where the blue Pacific +opens out and away to far Oriental shores. After that she plowed south +between Vancouver Island and the rugged foreshores where the Coast +Range dips to the sea, past pleasant isles, and through narrow passes +where the cliffs towered sheer on either hand, and, upon the evening of +the third day, she turned into Burrard Inlet and swept across a harbor +speckled with shipping from all the Seven Seas to her berth at the dock. +</P> + +<P> +So Hazel came again to a city—a city that roared and bellowed all its +manifold noises in her ears, long grown accustomed to a vast and +brooding silence. Mindful of Bill's parting word, she took a hack to +the Ladysmith. And even though the hotel was removed from the business +heart of the city, the rumble of the city's herculean labors reached +her far into the night. She lay wakefully, staring through her open +window at the arc lights winking in parallel rows, listening to the +ceaseless hum of man's activities. But at last she fell asleep, and +dawn of a clear spring day awakened her. +</P> + +<P> +She ate her breakfast, and set forth on a shopping tour. To such +advantage did she put two of the hundred-dollar bills that by noon she +was arrayed in a semi-tailored suit of gray, spring hat, shoes, and +gloves to match. She felt once more at ease, less conscious that +people stared at her frayed and curious habiliments. With a complete +outfit of lingerie purchased, and a trunk in which to store it +forwarded to her hotel, her immediate activity was at an end, and she +had time to think of her next move. +</P> + +<P> +And, brought face to face with that, she found herself at something of +a loss. She had no desire to go back to Cariboo Meadows, even to get +what few personal treasures she had left behind. Cariboo Meadows was +wiped off the slate as far as she was concerned. Nevertheless, she +must make her way. Somehow she must find a means to return the unused +portion of the—to her—enormous sum Roaring Bill had placed in her +hands. She must make her own living. The question that troubled her +was: How, and where? She had her trade at her finger ends, and the +storied office buildings of Vancouver assured her that any efficient +stenographer could find work. But she looked up as she walked the +streets at the high, ugly walls of brick and steel and stone, and her +heart misgave her. +</P> + +<P> +So for the time being she promised herself a holiday. In the afternoon +she walked the length of Hastings Street, where the earth trembled with +the roaring traffic of street cars, wagons, motors, and where folk +scuttled back and forth across the way in peril of their lives. She +had seen all the like before, but now she looked upon it with different +eyes; it possessed somehow a different significance, this bustle and +confusion which had seemingly neither beginning nor end, only sporadic +periods of cessation. +</P> + +<P> +She sat in a candy parlor and watched people go by, swarming like bees +along the walk. She remembered having heard or read somewhere the +simile of a human hive. The shuffle of their feet, the hum of their +voices droned in her cars, confusing her, irritating her, and she +presently found herself hurrying away from it, walking rapidly eastward +toward a thin fringe of trees which showed against a distant sky-line +over a sea of roofs. She walked fast, and before long the jar of solid +heels on the concrete pavement bred an ache in her knees. Then she +caught a car passing in that direction, and rode to the end of the +line, where the rails ran out in a wilderness of stumps. +</P> + +<P> +Crossing through these, she found a rudely graded highway, which in +turn dwindled to a mere path. It led her through a pleasant area of +second-growth fir, slender offspring of the slaughtered forest +monarchs, whose great stumps dotted the roll of the land, and up on a +little rise whence she could overlook the city and the inlet where rode +the tall-masted ships and sea-scarred tramps from deep salt water. And +for the time being she was content. +</P> + +<P> +But a spirit of restlessness drove her back into the city. And at +nightfall she went up to her room and threw herself wearily on the bed. +She was tired, body and spirit, and lonely. Nor was this lightened by +the surety that she would be lonelier still before she found a niche to +fit herself in and gather the threads of her life once more into some +orderly pattern. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning she felt better, even to the point of going over the +newspapers and jotting down several advertisements calling for office +help. Her brief experience in Cariboo Meadows had not led her to look +kindly on teaching as a means of livelihood. And stenographers seemed +to be in demand. Wherefore, she reasoned that wages would be high. +With the list in her purse, she went down on Hastings—which runs like +a huge artery through the heart of the city, with lesser streets +crossing and diverging. +</P> + +<P> +But she made no application for employment. For on the corner of +Hastings and Seymour, as she gathered her skirt in her hand to cross +the street, some one caught her by the arm, and cried: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, forevermore, if it isn't Hazel Weir!" +</P> + +<P> +And she turned to find herself facing Loraine Marsh—a Granville school +chum—and Loraine's mother. Back of them, with wide and startled eyes, +loomed Jack Barrow. +</P> + +<P> +He pressed forward while the two women overwhelmed Hazel with a flood +of exclamations and questions, and extended his hand. Hazel accepted +the overture. She had long since gotten over her resentment against +him. She was furthermore amazed to find that she could meet his eye +and take his hand without a single flutter of her pulse. It seemed +strange, but she was glad of it. And, indeed, she was too much taken +up with Loraine Marsh's chatter, and too genuinely glad to hear a +friendly voice again, to dwell much on ghosts of the past. +</P> + +<P> +They stood a few minutes on the corner; then Mrs. Marsh proposed that +they go to the hotel, where they could talk at their leisure and in +comfort. Loraine and her mother took the lead. Barrow naturally fell +into step with Hazel. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been wearing sackcloth and ashes, Hazel," he said humbly. "And I +guess you've got about a million apologies coming from everybody in +Granville for the shabby way they treated you. Shortly after you left, +somebody on one of the papers ferreted out the truth of that Bush +affair, and the vindictive old hound's reasons for that compromising +legacy were set forth. It seems this newspaper fellow connected up +with Bush's secretary and the nurse. Also, Bush appears to have kept a +diary—and kept it posted up to the day of his death—poured out all +his feelings on paper, and repeatedly asserted that he would win you or +ruin you. And it seems that that night after you refused to come to +him when he was hurt, he called in his lawyer and made that +codicil—and spent the rest of the time till he died gloating over the +chances of it besmirching your character." +</P> + +<P> +"I've grown rather indifferent about it," Hazel replied impersonally. +"But he succeeded rather easily. Even you, who should have known me +better, were ready to believe the very worst." +</P> + +<P> +"I've paid for it," Barrow pleaded. "You don't know how I've hated +myself for being such a cad. But it taught me a lesson—if you'll not +hold a grudge against me. I've wondered and worried about you, +disappearing the way you did. Where have you been, and how have you +been getting on? You surely look well." He bent an admiring glance on +her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I've been every place, and I can't complain about not getting on," +she answered carelessly. +</P> + +<P> +For the life of her, she could not help making comparisons between the +man beside her and another who she guessed would by now be bearing up +to the crest of the divide that overlooked the green and peaceful vista +of forest and lake, with the Babine Range lying purple beyond. She +wondered if Roaring Bill Wagstaff would ever, under any circumstances, +have looked on her with the scornful, angry distrust that Barrow had +once betrayed. And she could not conceive of Bill Wagstaff ever being +humble or penitent for anything he had done. Barrow's attitude was +that of a little boy who had broken some plaything in a fit of anger +and was now woefully trying to put the pieces together again. It +amused her. Indeed, it afforded her a distinctly un-Christian +satisfaction, since she was not by nature of a meek or forgiving +spirit. He had made her suffer; it was but fitting that he should know +a pang or two himself. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel visited with the three of them in the hotel parlor for a matter +of two hours, went to luncheon with them, and at luncheon Loraine Marsh +brought up the subject of her coming home to Granville with them. The +Bush incident was discussed and dismissed. On the question of +returning, Hazel was noncommittal. The idea appealed strongly to her. +Granville was home. She had grown up there. There were a multitude of +old ties, associations, friends to draw her back. But whether her home +town would seem the same, whether she would feel the same toward the +friends who had held aloof in the time when she needed a friend the +most, even if they came flocking back to her, was a question that she +thought of if she did not put it in so many words. On the other hand, +she knew too well the drear loneliness that would close upon her in +Vancouver when the Marshes left. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course you'll come! We won't hear of leaving you behind. So you +can consider that settled." Loraine Marsh declared at last. "We're +going day after to-morrow. So is Mr. Barrow." +</P> + +<P> +Jack walked with her out to the Ladysmith, and, among other things, +told her how he happened to be in the coast city. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been doing pretty well lately," he said. "I came out here on a +deal that involved about fifty thousand dollars. I closed it up just +this morning—and the commission would just about buy us that little +house we had planned once. Won't you let bygones be bygones, Hazie?" +</P> + +<P> +"It might be possible, Jack," she answered slowly, "if it were not for +the fact that you took the most effective means a man could have taken +to kill every atom of affection I had for you. I don't feel bitter any +more—I simply don't feel at all." +</P> + +<P> +"But you will," he said eagerly. "Just give me a chance. I was a +hot-headed, jealous fool, but I never will be again. Give me a chance, +Hazel." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have to make your own chances," she said deliberately. "I +refuse to bind myself in any way. Why should I put myself out to make +you happy when you destroyed all the faith I had in you? You simply +didn't trust me. You wouldn't trust me again. If slander could turn +you against me once it might a second time. Besides, I don't care for +you as a man wants a woman to care for him. And I don't think I'm +going to care—except, perhaps, in a friendly way." +</P> + +<P> +And with that Barrow had to be content. +</P> + +<P> +He called for her the next day, and took her, with the Marshes, out for +a launch ride, and otherwise devoted himself to being an agreeable +cavalier. On the launch excursion it was settled definitely that Hazel +should accompany them East. She had no preparations to make. The only +thing she would like to have done—return Roaring Bill's surplus +money—she could not do. She did not know how or where to reach him +with a letter. So far as Granville was concerned, she could always +leave it if she desired, and she was a trifle curious to know how all +her friends would greet her now that the Bush mystery was cleared up +and the legacy explained. +</P> + +<P> +So that at dusk of the following day she and Loraine Marsh sat in a +Pullman, flattening their noses against the car window, taking a last +look at the environs of Vancouver as the train rolled through the +outskirts of the city. Hazel told herself that she was going home. +Barrow smiled friendly assurance over the seat. +</P> + +<P> +Even so, she was restless, far from content. There was something +lacking. She grew distrait, monosyllabic, sat for long intervals +staring absently into the gloom beyond the windowpane. The Limited was +ripping through forested land. She could see now and then tall +treetops limned against the starlit sky. The ceaseless roar of the +trucks and the buzz of conversation in the car irritated her. At half +after eight she called the porter and had him arrange her section for +the night. And she got into bed, thankful to be by herself, depressed +without reason. +</P> + +<P> +She slept for a time, her sleep broken into by morbid dreams, and +eventually she wakened to find her eyes full of tears. She did not +know why she should cry, but cry she did till her pillow grew +moist—and the heavy feeling in her breast grew, if anything, more +intense. +</P> + +<P> +She raised on one elbow and looked out the window. The train slowed +with a squealing of brakes and the hiss of escaping air to a station. +On the signboard over the office window she read the name of the place +and the notation: "Vancouver, 180 miles." +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes were still wet. When the Limited drove east again she +switched on the tiny electric bulb over her head, and fumbled in her +purse for another handkerchief. Her fingers drew forth, with the bit +of linen, a folded sheet of paper, which seemed to hypnotize her, so +fixedly did she remain looking at it. A sheet of plain white paper, +marked with dots and names and crooked lines that stood for rivers, +with shaded patches that meant mountain ranges she had seen—Bill +Wagstaff's map. +</P> + +<P> +She stared at it a long time. Then she found her time-table, and ran +along the interminable string of station names till she found Ashcroft, +from whence northward ran the Appian Way of British Columbia, the +Cariboo Road, over which she had journeyed by stage. She noted the +distance, and the Limited's hour of arrival, and looked at her watch. +Then a feverish activity took hold of her. She dressed, got her suit +case from under the berth, and stuffed articles into it, regardless of +order. Her hat was in a paper bag suspended from a hook above the +upper berth. Wherefore, she tied a silk scarf over her head. +</P> + +<P> +That done, she set her suit case in the aisle, and curled herself in +the berth, with her face pressed close against the window. A whimsical +smile played about her mouth, and her fingers tap-tapped steadily on +the purse, wherein was folded Bill Wagstaff's map. +</P> + +<P> +And then out of the dark ahead a cluster of lights winked briefly, the +shriek of the Limited's whistle echoed up and down the wide reaches of +the North Thompson, and the coaches came to a stop. Hazel took one +look to make sure. Then she got softly into the aisle, took up her +suit case, and left the car. At the steps she turned to give the car +porter a message. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell Mrs. Marsh—the lady in lower five," she said, with a dollar to +quicken his faculties, "that Miss Weir had to go back. Say that I will +write soon and explain." +</P> + +<P> +She stood back in the shadow of the station for a few seconds. The +Limited's stop was brief. When the red lights went drumming down the +track, she took up her suit case and walked uptown to the hotel where +she had tarried overnight once before. +</P> + +<P> +The clerk showed her to a room. She threw her suit case on the bed and +turned the key in the lock. Then she went over, and, throwing up the +window to its greatest height, sat down and looked steadily toward the +north, smiling to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"I can find him," she suddenly said aloud. "Of course I can find him!" +</P> + +<P> +And with that she blew a kiss from her finger-tips out toward the dark +and silent North, pulled down the shade, and went quietly to bed. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AN ENDING AND A BEGINNING +</H3> + + +<P> +Unconsciously, by natural assimilation, so to speak, Hazel Weir had +absorbed more woodcraft than she realized in her over-winter stay in +the high latitudes. Bill Wagstaff had once told her that few people +know just what they can do until they are compelled to try, and upon +this, her second journey northward, the truth of that statement grew +more patent with each passing day. Little by little the vast central +interior of British Columbia unfolded its orderly plan of watercourses, +mountain ranges, and valleys. She passed camping places, well +remembered of that first protesting journey. And at night she could +close her eyes beside the camp fires and visualize the prodigious +setting of it all—eastward the pyramided Rockies, westward lesser +ranges, the Telegraph, the Babine; and through the plateau between the +turbulent Frazer, bearing eastward from the Rockies and turning +abruptly for its long flow south, with its sinuous doublings and +turnings that were marked in bold lines on Bill Wagstaff's map. +</P> + +<P> +So trailing north with old Limping George, his fat <I>klootch</I>, and two +half-grown Siwash youths, Hazel bore steadily across country, driving +as straight as the rolling land allowed for the cabin that snuggled in +a woodsy basin close up to the peaks that guard Pine River Pass. +</P> + +<P> +There came a day when brief uncertainty became sure knowledge at sight +of an L-shaped body of water glimmering through the fire-thinned +spruce. Her heart fluttered for a minute. Like a homing bird, by +grace of the rude map and Limping George, she had come to the lake +where the Indians had camped in the winter, and she could have gone +blindfolded from the lake to Roaring Bill's cabin. +</P> + +<P> +On the lake shore, where the spruce ran out to birch and cottonwood, +she called a halt. +</P> + +<P> +"Make camp," she instructed. "Cabin over there," she waved her hand. +"I go. Byemby come back." +</P> + +<P> +Then she urged her pony through the light timber growth and across the +little meadows where the rank grass and strange varicolored flowers +were springing up under the urge of the warm spring sun. Twenty +minutes brought her to the clearing. The grass sprang lush there, and +the air was pleasant with odors of pine and balsam wafted down from the +mountain height behind. But the breath of the woods was now a matter +of small moment, for Silk and Satin and Nigger loafing at the sunny end +of the stable pricked up their ears at her approach, and she knew that +Roaring Bill was home again. She tied her horse to a sapling and drew +nearer. The cabin door stood wide. +</P> + +<P> +A brief panic seized her. She felt a sudden shrinking, a wild desire +for headlong flight. But it passed. She knew that for good or ill she +would never turn back. And so, with her heart thumping tremendously +and a tentative smile curving her lips, she ran lightly across to the +open door. +</P> + +<P> +On the soft turf her footsteps gave forth no sound. She gained the +doorway as silently as a shadow. Roaring Bill faced the end of the +long room, but he did not see her, for he was slumped in the big chair +before the fireplace, his chin sunk on his breast, staring straight +ahead with absent eyes. +</P> + +<P> +In all the days she had been with him she had never seen him look like +that. It had been his habit, his defense, to cover sadness with a +smile, to joke when he was hurt. That weary, hopeless expression, the +wry twist of his lips, wrung her heart and drew from her a yearning +little whisper: +</P> + +<P> +"Bill!" +</P> + +<P> +He came out of his chair like a panther. And when his eyes beheld her +in the doorway he stiffened in his tracks, staring, seeing, yet +reluctant to believe the evidence of his vision. His brows wrinkled. +He put up one hand and absently ran it over his cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if I've got to the point of seeing things," he said slowly. +"Say, little person, is it your astral body, or is it really you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course it's me," she cried tremulously, and with fine disregard for +her habitual preciseness of speech. +</P> + +<P> +He came up close to her and pinched her arm with a gentle pressure, as +if he had to feel the material substance of her before he could +believe. And then he put his hands on her shoulders, as he had done on +the steamer that day at Bella Coola, and looked long and earnestly at +her—looked till a crimson wave rose from her neck to the roots of her +dark, glossy hair. And with that Roaring Bill took her in his arms, +cuddled her up close to him, and kissed her, not once but many times. +</P> + +<P> +"You really and truly came back, little person," he murmured. "Lord, +Lord—and yet they say the day of miracles is past." +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't think I would, did you?" she asked, with her blushing face +snuggled against his sturdy breast. "Still, you gave me a map so that +I could find the place?" +</P> + +<P> +"That was just taking a desperate chance. No, I never expected to see +you again, unless by accident," he said honestly. "And I've been +crying the hurt of it to the stars all the way back from the coast. I +only got here yesterday. I pretty near passed up coming back at all. +I didn't see how I could stay, with everything to remind me of you. +Say, but it looked like a lonesome hole. I used to love this +place—but I didn't love it last night. It seemed about the most +cheerless and depressing spot I could have picked. I think I should +have ended up by touching a match to the whole business and hitting the +trail to some new country. I don't know. I'm not weak. But I don't +think I could have stayed here long." +</P> + +<P> +They stood silent in the doorway for a long interval, Bill holding her +close to him, and she blissfully contented, careless and unthinking of +the future, so filled was she with joy of the present. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you love me much, little person?" Bill asked, after a little. +</P> + +<P> +She nodded vigorous assent. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" he desired to know. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, just because—because you're a man, I suppose," she returned +mischievously. +</P> + +<P> +"The world's chuck-full of men," Bill observed. +</P> + +<P> +"Surely," she looked up at him. "But they're not like you. Maybe it's +bad policy to start in flattering you, but there aren't many men of +your type, Billy-boy; big and strong and capable, and at the same time +kind and patient and able to understand things, things a woman can't +always put into words. Last fall you hurt my pride and nearly scared +me to death by carrying me off in that lawless, headlong fashion of +yours. But you seemed to know just how I felt about it, and you played +fairer than any man I ever knew would have done under the same +circumstances. I didn't realize it until I got back into the civilized +world. And then all at once I found myself longing for you—and for +these old forests and the mountains and all. So I came back." +</P> + +<P> +"Wise girl," he kissed her. "You'll never be sorry, I hope. It took +some nerve, too. It's a long trail from here to the outside. But this +North country—it gets in your blood—if your blood's red—and I don't +think there's any water in your veins, little person. Lord! I'm +afraid to let go of you for fear you'll vanish into nothing, like a +Hindu fakir stunt." +</P> + +<P> +"No fear," Hazel laughed. "I've got a pony tied to a tree out there, +and four Siwashes and a camp outfit over by Crooked Lake. If I should +vanish I'd leave a plain trail for you to follow." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," Bill said, after a short silence, "it's a hundred and forty +miles to a Hudson's Bay post where there's a mission and a preacher. +Let's be on our way and get married. Then we'll come back here and +spend our honeymoon. Eh?" +</P> + +<P> +She nodded assent. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you game to start in half an hour?" he asked, holding her off at +arm's length admiringly. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm game for anything, or I wouldn't be here," she retorted. +</P> + +<P> +"All right. You just watch an exhibition of speedy packing," Bill +declared—and straightway fell to work. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel followed him about, helping to get the kyaks packed with food. +They caught the three horses, and Bill stripped the pony of Hazel's +riding gear and placed a pack on him. Then he put her saddle on Silk. +</P> + +<P> +"He's your private mount henceforth," Bill told her laughingly. +"You'll ride him with more pleasure than you did the first time, won't +you?" +</P> + +<P> +Presently they were ready to start, planning to ride past Limping +George's camp and tell him whither they were bound. Hazel was already +mounted. Roaring Bill paused, with his toe in the stirrup, and smiled +whimsically at her over his horse's back. +</P> + +<P> +"I forgot something," said he, and went back into the cabin—whence he +shortly emerged, bearing in his hand a sheet of paper upon which +something was written in bold, angular characters. This he pinned on +the door. Hazel rode Silk close to see what it might be, and laughed +amusedly, for Bill had written: +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. and Mrs. William Wagstaff will be at home to their friends on and +after June the twentieth." +</P> + +<P> +He swung up into his saddle, and they jogged across the open. In the +edge of the first timber they pulled up and looked backward at the +cabin drowsing silently under its sentinel tree. Roaring Bill reached +out one arm and laid it across Hazel's shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"Little person," he said soberly, "here's the end of one trail, and the +beginning of another—the longest trail either of us has ever faced. +How does it look to you?" +</P> + +<P> +She caught his fingers with a quick, hard pressure. +</P> + +<P> +"All trails look alike to me," she said, with shining eyes, "just so we +hit them together." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A BRIEF TIME OF PLANNING +</H3> + + +<P> +"What day of the month is this, Bill?" Hazel asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't the least idea," he answered lazily. "Time is of no +consequence to me at the present moment." +</P> + +<P> +They were sitting on the warm earth before their cabin, their backs +propped comfortably against a log, watching the sun sink behind a +distant sky-line all notched with purple mountains upon which snow +still lingered. Beside them a smudge dribbled a wisp of smoke +sufficient to ward off a pestilential swarm of mosquitoes and black +flies. In the clear, thin air of that altitude the occasional voices +of what bird and animal life was abroad in the wild broke into the +evening hush with astonishing distinctness—a lone goose winged above +in wide circles, uttering his harsh and solitary cry. He had lost his +mate, Bill told her. Far off in the bush a fox barked. The evening +flight of the wild duck from Crooked Lake to a chain of swamps passed +intermittently over the clearing with a sibilant whistle of wings. To +all the wild things, no less than to the two who watched and listened +to the forest traffic, it was a land of peace and plenty. +</P> + +<P> +"We ought to go up to the swamps to-morrow and rustle some duck eggs," +Bill observed irrelevantly—his eyes following the arrow flight of a +mallard flock. But his wife was counting audibly, checking the days +off on her fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"This is July the twenty-fifth, Mr. Roaring Bill Wagstaff," she +announced. "We've been married exactly one month." +</P> + +<P> +"A whole month?" he echoed, in mock astonishment. "A regular calendar +month of thirty-one days, huh? You don't say so? Seems like it was +only day before yesterday, little person." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder," she snuggled up a little closer to him, "if any two people +were ever as happy as we've been?" +</P> + +<P> +Bill put his arm across her shoulders and tilted her head back so that +he could smile down into her face. +</P> + +<P> +"They have been a bunch of golden days, haven't they?" he whispered. +"We haven't come to a single bump in the road yet. You won't forget +this joy time if we ever do hit real hard going, will you, Hazel?" +</P> + +<P> +"The bird of ill omen croaks again," she reproved. "Why should we come +to hard going, as you call it?" +</P> + +<P> +"We shouldn't," he declared. "But most people do. And we might. One +never can tell what's ahead. Life takes queer and unexpected turns +sometimes. We've got to live pretty close to each other, depend +absolutely on each other in many ways—and that's the acid test of +human companionship. By and by, when the novelty wears off—maybe +you'll get sick of seeing the same old Bill around and nobody else. +You see I've always been on my good behavior with you. Do you like me +a lot?" +</P> + +<P> +His arm tightened with a quick and powerful pressure, then suddenly +relaxed to let her lean back and stare up at him tenderly. +</P> + +<P> +"I ought to punish you for saying things like that," she pouted. "Only +I can't think of any effective method. Sufficient unto the day is the +evil thereof—and there is no evil in <I>our</I> days." +</P> + +<P> +"Amen," he whispered softly—and they fell to silent contemplation of +the rose and gold that spread in a wonderful blazon over all the +western sky. +</P> + +<P> +"Twenty-fifth of July, eh?" he mused presently. "Summer's half gone +already. I didn't realize it. We ought to be stirring pretty soon, +lady." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's stir into the house, then," she suggested. "These miserable +little black flies have found a tender place on me. My, but they're +bloodthirsty insects." +</P> + +<P> +Bill laughed, and they took refuge in the cabin, the doorways and +windows of which were barricaded with cotton mosquito net against the +winged swarms that buzzed hungrily without. Ensconced in the big chair +by the fireplace, with Bill sprawled on the bearskin at her feet, Hazel +came back to his last remark. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you say it was time for us to be stirring, Billum?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because these Northern seasons are so blessed short," he answered. +"We ought to try and do a little good for ourselves—make hay while the +sun shines. We'll needa da mon'." +</P> + +<P> +"Needa fiddlesticks," she laughed. "What do we need money for? It +costs practically nothing to live up here. Why this sudden desire to +pursue the dollar? Besides, how are you going to pursue it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Go prospecting," he replied promptly. "Hit the trail for a place I +know where there's oodles of coarse gold, if you can get to it at low +water. How'd you like to go into the Upper Naas country this fall, +trap all winter, work the sand bars in the spring, and come out next +fall with a sack of gold it would take a horse to pack?" +</P> + +<P> +Hazel clapped her hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Bill, wouldn't that be fine?" she cried. Across her mind flashed +a vivid picture of the journey, pregnant with adventure, across the +wild hinterlands—they two together. "I'd love to." +</P> + +<P> +"It won't be all smooth sailing," he warned. "It's a long trip and a +hard one, and the winter will be longer and harder than the trip. We +won't have the semi-luxuries we've got here in this cabin. Not by a +long shot. Still, there's a chance for a good big stake, right in that +one trip." +</P> + +<P> +"But why the necessity for making a stake?" she inquired thoughtfully, +after a lapse of five minutes. "I thought you didn't care anything +about money so long as you had enough to get along on? And we surely +have that. We've got over two thousand dollars in real money—and no +place to spend it—so we're compelled to save." +</P> + +<P> +Bill blew a smoke ring over his head and watched it vanish up toward +the dusky roof beams before he answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, little person," said he, "that's very true, and we can't +truthfully say that stern necessity is treading on our heels. The +possession of money has never been a crying need with me. But I hadn't +many wants when I was playing a lone hand, and I generally let the +future take care of itself. It was always easy to dig up money enough +to buy books and grub or anything I wanted. Now that I've assumed a +certain responsibility, it has begun to dawn on me that we'd enjoy life +better if we were assured of a competence. We can live on the country +here indefinitely. But we won't stay here always. I'm pretty much +contented just now. So are you. But I know from past experience that +the outside will grow more alluring as time passes. You'll get +lonesome for civilization. It's the most natural thing in the world. +And when we go out to mix with our fellow humans we want to meet them +on terms of worldly equality. Which is, to say with good clothes on, +and a fat bank roll in our pocket. The best is none too good for us, +lady. And the best costs money. Anyway, I'll plead guilty to +changing, or, rather, modifying my point of view—getting married has +opened up new vistas of pleasure for us that call for dollars. And +last, but not least, old girl, while I love to loaf, I can only loaf +about so long in contentment. Sabe? I've got to be doing <I>something</I>; +whether it was profitable or not has never mattered, just so it was +action." +</P> + +<P> +"I sabe, as you call it," Hazel smiled. "Of course I do. Only lazy +people like to loaf all the time. I love this place, and we might stay +here for years and be satisfied. But—" +</P> + +<P> +"But we'd be better satisfied to stay if we knew that we could leave it +whenever we wanted to," he interrupted. "That's the psychology of the +human animal, all right. We don't like to be coerced, even by +circumstances. Well, granted health, one can be boss of old Dame +Circumstance, if one has the price in cold cash. It's a melancholy +fact that the good things of the world can only be had for a +consideration." +</P> + +<P> +"If you made a lot of money mining, we could travel—one could do lots +of things," she reflected. "I don't think I'd want to live in a city +again. But it would be nice to go there sometimes." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear girl, it would," Bill agreed. "With a chum to help you +enjoy things. I never got much fun out of the bright lights by +myself—it was too lonesome. I used to prowl around by myself with an +analytical eye upon humanity, and I was always bumping into a lot of +sordidness and suffering that I couldn't in the least remedy, and it +often gave me a bad taste in my mouth. Then I'd beat it for the +woods—and they always looked good to me. The trouble was that I had +too much time to think, and nothing to do when I hit a live town. It +would be different now. We can do things together that I couldn't do +alone, and you couldn't do alone. Remains only to get the wherewithal. +And since I know how to manage that with a minimum amount of effort, +I'd like to be about it before somebody else gets ahead of me. Though +there's small chance of that." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll be partners," said she. "How will we divide the profits, +Billum?" +</P> + +<P> +"We'll split even," he declared. "That is, I'll make the money, and +you'll spend it." +</P> + +<P> +They chuckled over this conceit, and as the dusk closed in slowly they +fell to planning the details. Hazel lit the lamp, and in its yellow +glow pored over maps while Bill idly sketched their route on a sheet of +paper. His objective lay east of the head of the Naas proper, where +amid a wild tangle of mountains and mountain torrents three turbulent +rivers, the Stikine, the Skeena, and the Naas, took their rise. A +God-forsaken region, he told her, where few white men had penetrated. +The peaks flirted with the clouds, and their sides were scarred with +glaciers. A lonesome, brooding land, the home of a vast and +seldom-broken silence. +</P> + +<P> +"But there's all kinds of game and fur in there," Bill remarked +thoughtfully. "And gold. Still, it's a fierce country for a man to +take his best girl into. I don't know whether I ought to tackle it." +</P> + +<P> +"We couldn't be more isolated than we are here," Hazel argued, "if we +were in the arctic. Look at that poor woman at Pelt House. Three +babies born since she saw a doctor or another woman of her own color! +What's a winter by ourselves compared to that. And <I>she</I> didn't think +it so great a hardship. Don't you worry about me, Mr. Bill. I think +it will be fun. I'm a real pioneer at heart. The wild places look +good to me—when you're along." +</P> + +<P> +She received her due reward for that, and then, the long twilight +having brought the hour to a lateness that manifested itself by sundry +yawns on their part, they went to bed. +</P> + +<P> +With breakfast over, Bill put a compass in his pocket, after having +ground his ax blade to a keen edge. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on," said he, then; "I'm going to transact some important +business." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" she promptly demanded with much curiosity. +</P> + +<P> +"This domicile of ours, girl," he told her, while he led the way +through the surrounding timber, "is ours only by grace of the +wilderness. It's built on unsurveyed government land—land that I have +no more legal claim to than any passing trapper. I never thought of it +before—which goes to show that this double-harness business puts a +different face on 'most everything. But I'm going to remedy that. Of +course, it may be twenty years before this country begins to settle up +enough so that some individual may cast a covetous eye on this +particular spot—but I'm not going to take any chances. I'm going to +formally stake a hundred and sixty acres of this and apply for its +purchase. Then we'll have a cinch on our home. We'll always have a +refuge to fly to, no matter where we go." +</P> + +<P> +She nodded appreciation of this. The cabin in the clearing stood for +some of those moments that always loom large and unforgettable in every +woman's experience. She had come there once in hot, shamed anger, and +she had come again as a bride. It was the handiwork of a man she loved +with a passion that sometimes startled her by its intensity. She had +plumbed depths of bitterness there, and, contrariwise, reached a point +of happiness she had never believed possible. Just the mere +possibility of that place being given over to others roused in her a +pang of resentment. It was theirs, hers and Bill's, and, being a +woman, she viewed its possession jealously. +</P> + +<P> +So she watched with keen interest what he did. Which, in truth, was +simple enough. He worked his way to a point southeast of the clearing +till they gained a little rise whence through the treetops they could +look back and see the cabin roof. There Bill cut off an eight-inch +jack pine, leaving the stump approximately four feet high. This he +hewed square, the four flat sides of the post facing respectively the +cardinal points of the compass. On one smoothed surface Bill set to +work with his pocketknife. Hazel sat down and watched while he busied +himself at this. And when he had finished she read, in deep-carved +letters: +</P> + +<CENTER> +<P CLASS="noindent"> +W. WAGSTAFF'S S. E. CORNER.<BR> +</P> +</CENTER> + +<BR> + +<P> +Then he penned on a sheet of letter paper a brief notice to the effect +that he, William Wagstaff, intended to apply for the purchase of the +land embraced in an area a half mile square, of which the post was the +south-east corner mark. This notice he fastened to the stump with a +few tacks, and sat down to rest from his labors. +</P> + +<P> +"How long do you suppose that will stay there, and who is there to read +it, if it does?" Hazel observed. +</P> + +<P> +"Search me. The moose and the deer and the timber wolves, I guess," +Bill grinned. "The chances are the paper won't last long, with winds +and rains. But it doesn't matter. It's simply a form prescribed by +the Land Act of British Columbia, and, so long as I go through the +legal motions, that lets me out. Matter of form, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"Then what else do you have to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing but furnish the money when the land department gets around to +accept my application," he said. "I can get an agent to attend to all +the details. Oh, I have to furnish a description of the land by +natural boundaries, to give them an idea of about where it's situated. +Well, let's take a look at our estate from another corner." +</P> + +<P> +This, roughly ascertained by sighting a line with the compass and +stepping off eight hundred and eighty yards, brought them up on a knoll +that commanded the small basin of which the clearing was practically in +the center. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha;" Bill exclaimed. "Look at our ranch, would you; our widespread +acres basking in the sun. A quarter section is quite a chunk. Do you +know I never thought much about it before, but there's a piece of the +finest land that lies outdoors. I wasn't looking for land when I +squatted there. It was a pretty place, and there was hay for our +horses in that meadow, and trout in the creek back of the cabin. So I +built the old shack largely on the conveniences and the natural beauty +of the spot. But let me tell you, if this country should get a +railroad and settle up, that quarter section might produce all the +income we'd need, just out of hay and potatoes. How'd you like to be a +farmer's wife, huh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fine," she smiled. "Look at the view—it isn't gorgeous. It's—it's +simply peaceful and quiet and soothing. I hate to leave it." +</P> + +<P> +"Better be sorry to leave a place than glad to get away," he answered +lightly. "Come on, let's pike home and get things in order for the +long trail, woman o' mine. I'll teach you how to be a woodland +vagabond." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +EN ROUTE +</H3> + + +<P> +Long since Hazel had become aware that whatsoever her husband set about +doing he did swiftly and with inflexible purpose. There was no +malingering or doubtful hesitation. Once his mind was made up, he +acted, Thus, upon the third day from the land staking they bore away +eastward from the clearing, across a trackless area, traveling by the +sun and Bill's knowledge of the country. +</P> + +<P> +"Some day there'll be trails blazed through here by a paternal +government," he laughed over his shoulder, "for the benefit of the +public. But <I>we</I> don't need 'em, thank goodness." +</P> + +<P> +The buckskin pony Hazel had bought for the trip in with Limping George +ambled sedately under a pack containing bedding, clothes, and a light +shelter tent. The black horse, Nigger, he of the cocked ear and the +rolling eye, carried in a pair of kyaks six weeks' supply of food. +Bill led the way, seconded by Hazel on easy-gaited Silk. Behind her +trailed the pack horses like dogs well broken to heel, patient under +their heavy burdens. Off in the east the sun was barely clear of the +towering Rockies, and the woods were still cool and shadowy, full of +aromatic odors from plant and tree. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel followed her man contentedly. They were together upon the big +adventure, just as she had seen it set forth in books, and she found it +good. For her there was no more diverging of trails, no more problems +looming fearsomely at the journey's end. To jog easily through woods +and over open meadows all day, and at night to lie with her head +pillowed on Bill's arm, peering up through interlocked branches at a +myriad of gleaming stars—that was sufficient to fill her days. To +live and love and be loved, with all that had ever seemed hateful and +sordid and mean thrust into a remote background. It was almost too +good to be true, she told herself. Yet it was indubitably true. And +she was grateful for the fact. Touches of the unavoidable bitterness +of life had taught her the worth of days that could be treasured in the +memory. +</P> + +<P> +Occasionally she would visualize the cabin drowsing lifeless in its +emerald setting, haunted by the rabbits that played timidly about in +the twilight, or perhaps a wandering deer peering his wide-eyed +curiosity from the timber's edge. The books and rugs and curtains were +stowed in boxes and bundles and hung by wires to the ridge log to keep +them from the busy bush-tailed rats. Everything was done up carefully +and put away for safekeeping, as became a house that is to be long +untenanted. +</P> + +<P> +The mother instinct to keep a nest snug and cozy gave her a tiny pang +over the abandoned home. The dust of many months would gather on the +empty chairs and shelves. Still it was only a passing absence. They +would come back, with treasure wrested from the strong box of the wild. +Surely Fortune could not forbear smiling on a mate like hers? +</P> + +<P> +There was no monotony in the passing days. Rivers barred their way. +These they forded or swam, or ferried a makeshift raft of logs, as +seemed most fit. Once their raft came to grief in the maw of a +snarling current, and they laid up two days to dry their saturated +belongings. Once their horses, impelled by some mysterious home +yearning, hit the back trail in a black night of downpour, and they +trudged half a day through wet grass and dripping scrub to overtake the +truants. Thunderstorms drove up, shattering the hush of the land with +ponderous detonations, assaulting them with fierce bursts of rain. +Haps and mishaps alike they accepted with an equable spirit and the +true philosophy of the trail—to take things as they come. When rain +deluged them, there was always shelter to be found and fire to warm +them. If the flies assailed too fiercely, a smudge brought easement of +that ill. And when the land lay smiling under a pleasant sun, they +rode light-hearted and care-free, singing or in silent content, as the +spirit moved. If they rode alone, they felt none of that loneliness +which is so integral a part of the still, unpeopled places. Each day +was something more than a mere toll of so many miles traversed. The +unexpected, for which both were eager-eyed, lurked on the shoulder of +each mountain, in the hollow of every cool cañon, or met them boldly in +the open, naked and unafraid. +</P> + +<P> +Bearing up to where the Nachaco debouches from Fraser Lake, with a +Hudson's Bay fur post and an Indian mission on its eastern fringe, they +came upon a blazed line in the scrub timber. Roaring Bill pulled up, +and squinted away down the narrow lane fresh with ax marks. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said he, "I wonder what's coming off now? That looks like a +survey line of some sort. It isn't a trail—too wide. Let's follow it +a while. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll bet a nickel," he asserted next, "that's a railroad survey." +They had traversed two miles more or less, and the fact was patent that +the blazed line sought a fairly constant level across country. "A land +survey runs all same latitude and longitude. Huh!" +</P> + +<P> +Half an hour of easy jogging set the seal of truth on his assertion. +They came upon a man squinting through a brass instrument set on three +legs, directing, with alternate wavings of his outspread hands, certain +activities of other men ahead of him. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'll be—" he bit off the sentence, and stared a moment in frank +astonishment at Hazel. Then he took off his hat and bowed. "Good +morning," he greeted politely. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," Bill grinned. "We have mornings like this around here all the +time. What all are you fellows doing in the wilderness, anyway? +Railroad?" +</P> + +<P> +"Cross-section work for the G. T. P.," the surveyor replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Huh," Bill grunted. "Is it a dead cinch, or is it something that may +possibly come to pass in the misty future?" +</P> + +<P> +"As near a cinch as anything ever is," the surveyor answered. +"Construction has begun—at both ends. I thought the few white folks +in this country kept tab on anything as important as a new railroad." +</P> + +<P> +"We've heard a lot, but none of 'em has transpired yet; not in my time, +anyway," Bill replied dryly. "However, the world keeps right on +moving. I've heard more or less talk of this, but I didn't know it had +got past the talking stage. What's their Pacific terminal?" +</P> + +<P> +"Prince Rupert—new town on a peninsula north of the mouth of the +Skeena," said the surveyor. "It's a rush job all the way through, I +believe. Three years to spike up the last rail. And that's going some +for a transcontinental road. Both the Dominion and B. C. governments +have guaranteed the company's bonds away up into millions." +</P> + +<P> +"Be a great thing for this country—say, where does it cross the +Rockies?—what's the general route?" Bill asked abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +"Goes over the range through Yellowhead Pass. From here it follows the +Nachaco to Fort George, then up the Fraser by Tete Juan Cache, through +the pass, then down the Athabasca till it switches over to strike +Edmonton." +</P> + +<P> +"Uh-huh," Bill nodded. "One of the modern labors of Hercules. Well, +we've got to peg. So long." +</P> + +<P> +"Our camp's about five miles ahead. Better stop in and noon," the +surveyor invited, "if it's on your road." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks. Maybe we will," Bill returned. +</P> + +<P> +The surveyor lifted his hat, with a swift glance of admiration at +Hazel, and they passed with a mutual "so long." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think of that, old girl?" Bill observed presently. "A +real, honest-to-God railroad going by within a hundred miles of our +shack. Three years. It'll be there before we know it. We'll have +neighbors to burn." +</P> + +<P> +"A hundred miles!" Hazel laughed. "Is that your idea of a neighborly +distance?" +</P> + +<P> +"What's a hundred miles?" he defended. "Two days' ride, that's all. +And the kind of people that come to settle in a country like this don't +stick in sight of the cars. They're like me—need lots of elbow room. +There'll be hardy souls looking for a location up where we are before +very long. You'll see." +</P> + +<P> +They passed other crews of men, surveyors with transits, chainmen, +stake drivers, ax gangs widening the path through the timber. Most of +them looked at Hazel in frank surprise, and stared long after she +passed by. And when an open bottom beside a noisy little creek showed +the scattered tents of the survey camp, Hazel said: +</P> + +<P> +"Let's not stop, Bill." +</P> + +<P> +He looked back over his shoulder with a comprehending smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Getting shy? Make you uncomfortable to have all these boys look at +you, little person?" he bantered. "All right, we won't stop. But all +these fellows probably haven't seen a white woman for months. You +can't blame them for admiring. You do look good to other men besides +me, you know." +</P> + +<P> +So they rode through the camp with but a nod to the aproned cook, who +thrust out his head, and a gray-haired man with glasses, who humped +over a drafting board under an awning. Their noon fire they built at a +spring five miles beyond. +</P> + +<P> +Thereafter they skirted three lakes in succession, Fraser, Burns, and +Decker, and climbed over a low divide to drop into the Bulkley +Valley—a pleasant, rolling country, where the timber was interspersed +with patches of open grassland and set with small lakes, wherein +schools of big trout lived their finny lives unharried by anglers—save +when some wandering Indian snared one with a primitive net. +</P> + +<P> +Far down this valley they came upon the first sign of settlement. +Hardy souls, far in advance of the coming railroad, had built here and +there a log cabin and were hard at it clearing and plowing and getting +the land ready for crops. Four or five such lone ranches they passed, +tarrying overnight at one where they found a broad-bosomed woman with a +brood of tow-headed children. Her husband was out after supplies—a +week's journey. She kept Hazel from her bed till after midnight, +talking. They had been there over winter, and Hazel Wagstaff was the +first white woman she had bespoken in seven months. There were other +women in the valley farther along; but fifty or sixty miles leaves +scant opportunity for visiting when there is so much work to be done +ere wild acres will feed hungry mouths. +</P> + +<P> +At length they fared into Hazleton, which is the hub of a vast area +over which men pursue gold and furs. Some hundred odd souls were +gathered there, where the stern-wheel steamers that ply the turgid +Skeena reach the head of navigation. A land-recording office and a +mining recorder Hazleton boasted as proof of its civic importance. The +mining recorder, who combined in himself many capacities besides his +governmental function, undertook to put through Bill's land deal. He +knew Bill Wagstaff. +</P> + +<P> +"Wise man," he nodded, over the description. "If some more uh these +boys that have blazed trails through this country would do the same +thing, they'd be better off. A chunk of land anywhere in this country +is a good bet now. We'll have rails here from the coast in a year. +Better freeze onto a couple uh lots here in Hazleton, while they're +low. Be plumb to the skies in ten years. Natural place for a city, +Bill. It's astonishin' how the settlers is comin'." +</P> + +<P> +There was ocular evidence of this last, for they had followed in a road +well rutted from loaded wagons. But Bill invested in no real estate, +notwithstanding the positive assurance that Hazleton was on the ragged +edge of a boom. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe, maybe," he admitted. "But I've got other fish to fry. That +one piece up by Pine River will do me for a while." +</P> + +<P> +Here where folk talked only of gold and pelts and railroads and +settlement and the coming boom that would make them all rich, Bill +Wagstaff added two more ponies to his pack train. These he loaded down +with food, staples only, flour, sugar, beans, salt, tea and coffee, and +a sack of dried fruit. Also he bestowed upon Nigger a further burden +of six dozen steel traps. And in the cool of a midsummer morning, +before Hazleton had rubbed the sleep out of its collective eyes and +taken up the day's work of discussing its future greatness, Roaring +Bill and his wife draped the mosquito nets over their heads and turned +their faces north. +</P> + +<P> +They bore out upon a wagon road. For a brief distance only did this +endure, then dwindled to a path. A turn in this hid sight of the +clustered log houses and tents, and the two steamers that lay up +against the bank. The river itself was soon lost in the far stretches +of forest. Once more they rode alone in the wilderness. For the first +time Hazel felt a quick shrinking from the North, an awe of its huge, +silent spaces, which could so easily engulf thousands such as they and +still remain a land untamed. +</P> + +<P> +But this feeling passed, and she came again under the spell of the +trail, riding with eyes and ears alert, sitting at ease in the saddle, +and taking each new crook in the way with quickened interest. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE WINTERING PLACE +</H3> + + +<P> +On the second day they crossed the Skeena, a risky and tedious piece of +business, for the river ran deep and strong. And shortly after this +crossing they came to a line of wire strung on poles. Originally a +fair passageway had been cleared through low brush and dense timber +alike. A pathway of sorts still remained, though dim and little +trodden and littered with down trees of various sizes. Bill followed +this. +</P> + +<P> +"What is the wire? A rural telephone? Oh, I remember you told me +once—that Yukon telegraph," Hazel remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"Uh-huh. That's the famous Telegraph Trail," Bill answered. "Runs +from Ashcroft clear to Dawson City, on the Yukon; that is, the line +does. There's a lineman's house every twenty miles or so, and an +operator every forty miles. The best thing about it is that it +furnishes us with a sort of a road. And that's mighty lucky, for +there's some tough going ahead of us." +</P> + +<P> +So long as they held to the Telegraph Trail the way led through fairly +decent country. In open patches there was ample grazing for their +horses. Hills there were, to be sure; all the land rolled away in +immense forested billows, but the mountains stood off on the right and +left, frowning in the distance. A plague of flies harassed them +continually, Hazel's hands suffering most, even though she kept +religiously to thick buckskin gloves. The poisonous bites led to +scratching, which bred soreness. And as they gained a greater +elevation and the timbered bottoms gave way to rocky hills over which +she must perforce walk and lead her horse, the sweat of the exertion +stung and burned intolerably, like salt water on an open wound. +</P> + +<P> +Minor hardships, these; scarcely to be dignified by that name, more in +the nature of aggravated discomforts they were. But they irked, and, +like any accumulation of small things, piled up a disheartening total. +By imperceptible degrees the glamour of the trail, the lure of +gypsying, began to lessen. She found herself longing for the Pine +River cabin, for surcease from this never-ending journey. But she +would not have owned this to Roaring Bill; not for the world. It +savored of weakness, disloyalty. She felt ashamed. Still—it was no +longer a pleasure jaunt. The country they bore steadily up into grew +more and more forbidding. The rugged slopes bore no resemblance to the +kindly, peaceful land where the cabin stood. Swamps and reedy lakes +lurked in low places. The hills stood forth grim and craggy, gashed +with deep-cleft gorges, and rising to heights more grim and desolate at +the uttermost reach of her vision. And into the heart of this, toward +a far-distant area where she could faintly distinguish virgin snow on +peaks that pierced the sky, they traveled day after day. +</P> + +<P> +Shortly before reaching Station Six they crossed the Naas, foaming down +to the blue Pacific. And at Station Seven, Bill turned squarely off +the Telegraph Trail and struck east by north. It had been a break in +the monotony of each day's travel to come upon the lonely men in their +little log houses. When they turned away from the single wire that +linked them up with the outer world, it seemed to Hazel as if the +profound, disquieting stillness of the North became intensified. +</P> + +<P> +Presently the way grew rougher. If anything, Roaring Bill increased +his pace. He himself no longer rode. When the steepness of the hills +and cañons made the going hard the packs were redivided, and henceforth +Satin bore on his back a portion of the supplies. Bill led the way +tirelessly. Through flies, river crossings, camp labor, and all the +petty irritations of the trail he kept an unruffled spirit, a fine, +enduring patience that Hazel marveled at and admired. Many a time, +wakening at some slight stir, she would find him cooking breakfast. In +every way within his power he saved her. +</P> + +<P> +"I got to take good care of you, little person," he would say. "I'm +used to this sort of thing, and I'm tough as buckskin. But it sure +isn't proving any picnic for you. It's a lot worse in this way than I +thought it would be. And we've got to get in there before the snow +begins to fly, or it will play the dickens with us." +</P> + +<P> +Many a strange shift were they put to. Once Bill had to fell a great +spruce across a twenty-foot crevice. It took him two days to hew it +flat so that his horses could be led over. The depth was bottomless to +the eye, but from far below rose the cavernous growl of rushing water, +and Hazel held her breath as each animal stepped gingerly over the +narrow bridge. One misstep— +</P> + +<P> +Once they climbed three weary days up a precipitous mountain range, +and, turned back in sight of the crest by an impassable cliff, were +forced to back track and swing in a fifty-mile detour. +</P> + +<P> +In an air line Roaring Bill's destination lay approximately two hundred +miles north—almost due north—of Hazleton. By the devious route they +were compelled to take the distance was doubled, more than doubled. +And their rate of progress now fell short of a ten-mile average. +September was upon them. The days dwindled in length, and the nights +grew to have a frosty nip. +</P> + +<P> +Early and late he pushed on. Two camp necessities were fortunately +abundant, grass and water. Even so, the stress of the trail told on +the horses. They lost flesh. The extreme steepness of succeeding +hills bred galls under the heavy packs. They grew leg weary, no longer +following each other with sprightly step and heads high. Hazel pitied +them, for she herself was trail weary beyond words. The vagabond +instinct had fallen asleep. The fine aura of romance no longer hovered +over the venture. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes when dusk ended the day's journey and she swung her stiffened +limbs out of the saddle, she would cheerfully have foregone all the +gold in the North to be at her ease before the fireplace in their +distant cabin, with her man's head nesting in her lap, and no toll of +weary miles looming sternly on the morrow's horizon. It was all work, +trying work, the more trying because she sensed a latent uneasiness on +her husband's part, an uneasiness she could never induce him to embody +in words. Nevertheless, it existed, and she resented its existence—a +trouble she could not share. But she could not put her finger on the +cause, for Bill merely smiled a denial when she mentioned it. +</P> + +<P> +Nor did she fathom the cause until upon a certain day which fell upon +the end of a week's wearisome traverse of the hardest country yet +encountered. Up and up and still higher he bore into a range of +beetling crags, and always his gaze was fixed steadfastly and dubiously +on the serrated backbone toward which they ascended with infinite toil +and hourly risk, skirting sheer cliffs on narrow rock ledges, working +foot by foot over declivities where the horses dug their hoofs into a +precarious toe hold, and where a slip meant broken bones on the ragged +stones below. But win to the uppermost height they did, where an early +snowfall lay two inches deep in a thin forest of jack pine. +</P> + +<P> +They broke out of a cañon up which they had struggled all day onto a +level plot where the pine stood in somber ranks. A spring creek split +the flat in two. Beside this tiny stream Bill unlashed his packs. It +still lacked two hours of dark. But he made no comment, and Hazel +forbore to trouble him with questions. Once the packs were off and the +horses at liberty. Bill caught up his rifle. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on, Hazel," he said. "Let's take a little hike." +</P> + +<P> +The flat was small, and once clear of it the pines thinned out on a +steep, rocky slope so that westward they could overlook a vast network +of cañons and mountain spurs. But ahead of them the mountain rose to +an upstanding backbone of jumbled granite, and on this backbone Bill +Wagstaff bent an anxious eye. Presently they sat down on a bowlder to +take a breathing spell after a stiff stretch of climbing. Hazel +slipped her hand in his and whispered: +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Billy-boy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid we can't get over here with the horses," he answered +slowly. "And if we can't find a pass of some kind—well, come on! It +isn't more than a quarter of a mile to the top." +</P> + +<P> +He struck out again, clambering over great bowlders, clawing his way +along rocky shelves, with a hand outstretched to help her now and then. +Her perceptions quickened by the hint he had given, Hazel viewed the +long ridge for a possible crossing, and she was forced to the reluctant +conclusion that no hoofed beast save mountain sheep or goat could cross +that divide. Certainly not by the route they were taking. And north +and south as far as she could see the backbone ran like a solid wall. +</P> + +<P> +It was a scant quarter mile to the top, beyond which no farther +mountain crests showed—only clear, blue sky. But it was a stretch +that taxed her endurance to the limit for the next hour. Just short of +the top Bill halted, and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. And as he +stood his gaze suddenly became fixed, a concentrated stare at a point +northward. He raised his glasses. +</P> + +<P> +"By thunder!" he exclaimed. "I believe—it's me for the top." +</P> + +<P> +He went up the few remaining yards with a haste that left Hazel panting +behind. Above her he stood balanced on a bowlder, cut sharp against +the sky, and she reached him just as he lowered the field glasses with +a long sigh of relief. His eyes shone with exultation. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on up on the perch," he invited, and reached forth a long, +muscular arm, drawing her up close betide him on the rock. +</P> + +<P> +"Behold the Promised Land," he breathed, "and the gateway thereof, +lying a couple of miles to the north." +</P> + +<P> +They were, it seemed to Hazel, roosting precariously on the very summit +of the world. On both sides the mountain pitched away sharply in +rugged folds. Distance smoothed out the harsh declivities, blurred +over the tremendous cañons. Looking eastward, she saw an ample basin, +which gave promise of level ground on its floor. True, it was ringed +about with sky-scraping peaks, save where a small valley opened to the +south. Behind them, between them and the far Pacific rolled a sea of +mountains, snow-capped, glacier-torn, gigantic. +</P> + +<P> +"Down there," Roaring Bill waved his hand, "there's a little meadow, +and turf to walk on. Lord, I'll be glad to get out of these rocks! +You'll never catch me coming in this way again. It's sure tough going. +And I've been scared to death for a week, thinking we couldn't get +through." +</P> + +<P> +"But we can?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, easy," he assured. "Take the glasses and look. That flat we +left our outfit in runs pretty well to the top, about two miles along. +Then there's a notch in the ridge that you can't get with the naked +eye, and a wider cañon running down into the basin. It's the only +decent break in the divide for fifty miles so far as I can see. This +backbone runs to high mountains both north and south of us—like the +great wall of China. We're lucky to hit this pass." +</P> + +<P> +"Suppose we couldn't get over here?" Hazel asked. "What if there +hadn't been a pass?" +</P> + +<P> +"That was beginning to keep me awake nights," he confessed. "I've been +studying this rock wall for a week. It doesn't look good from the east +side, but it's worse on the west, and I couldn't seem to locate the gap +I spotted from the basin one time. And if we couldn't get through, it +meant a hundred miles or more back south around that white peak you +see. Over a worse country than we've come through—and no cinch on +getting over at that. Do you realize that it's getting late in the +year? Winter may come—bing!—inside of ten days. And me caught in a +rock pile, with no cabin to shelter my best girl, and no hay up to feed +my horses! You bet it bothered me." +</P> + +<P> +She hugged him sympathetically, and Bill smiled down at her. +</P> + +<P> +"But it's plain sailing now," he continued. "I know that basin and all +the country beyond it. It's a pretty decent camping place, and there's +a fairly easy way out." +</P> + +<P> +He bestowed a reassuring kiss upon her. They sat on the bowlder for a +few minutes, then scrambled downhill to the jack-pine flat, and built +their evening fire. And for the first time in many days Roaring Bill +whistled and lightly burst into snatches of song in the deep, bellowing +voice that had given him his name back in the Cariboo country. His +humor was infectious. Hazel felt the gods of high adventure smiling +broadly upon them once more. +</P> + +<P> +Before daybreak they were up and packed. In the dim light of dawn Bill +picked his way up through the jack-pine flat. With easy traveling they +made such time as enabled them to cross through the narrow gash—cut in +the divide by some glacial offshoot when the Klappan Range was +young—before the sun, a ball of molten fire, heaved up from behind the +far mountain chain. +</P> + +<P> +At noon, two days later, they stepped out of a heavy stand of spruce +into a sun-warmed meadow, where ripe, yellow grasses waved to their +horses' knees. Hazel came afoot, a fresh-killed deer lashed across +Silk's back. +</P> + +<P> +Bill hesitated, as if taking his bearings, then led to where a rocky +spur of a hill jutted into the meadow's edge. A spring bubbled out of +a pebbly basin, and he poked about in the grass beside it with his +foot, presently stooping to pick up something which proved to be a +short bit of charred stick. +</P> + +<P> +"The remains of my last camp fire," he smiled reminiscently. "Packs +off, old pal. We're through with the trail for a while." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FOUR WALLS AND A ROOF +</H3> + + +<P> +To such as view with a kindly eye the hushed areas of virgin forest and +the bold cliffs and peaks of mountain ranges, it is a joy to tread +unknown trails, camping as the spirit moves, journeying leisurely and +in decent comfort from charming spot to spots more charming. With no +spur of need to drive, such inconsequential wandering gives to each day +and incident an added zest. Nature appears to have on her best bib and +tucker for the occasion. The alluring finger of the unknown beckons +alluringly onward, so that if one should betimes strain to physical +exhaustion in pursuit, that is a matter of no moment whatever. +</P> + +<P> +But it is a different thing to face the wilderness for a purpose, to +journey in haste toward a set point, with a penalty swift and sure for +failure to reach that point in due season. Especially is this so in +the high latitudes. Natural barriers uprear before the traveler, +barriers which he must scale with sweat and straining muscles. He must +progress by devious ways, seeking always the line of least resistance. +The season of summer is brief, a riot of flowers and vegetation. A +certain number of weeks the land smiles and flaunts gay flowers in the +shadow of the ancient glaciers. Then the frost and snow come back to +their own, and the long nights shut down like a pall. +</P> + +<P> +Brought to it by a kindlier road, Hazel would have found that nook in +the Klappan Range a pleasant enough place. She could not deny its +beauty. It snuggled in the heart of a wild tangle of hills all +turreted and battlemented with ledge and pinnacle of rock, from which +ran huge escarpments clothed with spruce and pine, scarred and gashed +on every hand with slides and deep-worn watercourses, down which +tumultuous streams rioted their foamy way. And nestled amid this, like +a precious stone in its massive setting, a few hundred acres of level, +grassy turf dotted with trees. Southward opened a narrow valley, as if +pointing the road to a less rigorous land. No, she could not deny its +beauty. But she was far too trail weary to appreciate the grandeur of +the Klappan Range. She desired nothing so much as rest and comfort, +and the solemn mountains were neither restful nor soothing. They stood +too grim and aloof in a lonely land. +</P> + +<P> +There was so much to be done, work of the hands; a cabin to build, and +a stable; hay to be cut and stacked so that their horses might live +through the long winter—which already heralded his approach with +sharp, stinging frosts at night, and flurries of snow along the higher +ridges. +</P> + +<P> +Bill staked the tent beside the spring, fashioned a rude fork out of a +pronged willow, and fitted a handle to the scythe he had brought for +the purpose. From dawn to dark he swung the keen blade in the heavy +grass which carpeted the bottom. Behind him Hazel piled it in little +mounds with the fork. She insisted on this, though it blistered her +hands and brought furious pains to her back. If her man must strain +every nerve she would lighten the burden with what strength she had. +And with two pair of hands to the task, the piles of hay gathered thick +on the meadow. When Bill judged that the supply reached twenty tons, +he built a rude sled with a rack on it, and hauled in the hay with a +saddle horse. +</P> + +<P> +"Amen!" said Bill, when he had emptied the rack for the last time, and +the hay rose in a neat stack. "That's another load off my mind. I can +build a cabin and a stable in six feet of snow if I have to, but there +would have been a slim chance of haying once a storm hit us. And the +caballos need a grubstake for the winter worse than we do, because they +can't eat meat. <I>We</I> wouldn't go hungry—there's moose enough to feed +an army ranging in that low ground to the south." +</P> + +<P> +"There's everything that one needs, almost, in the wilderness, isn't +there?" Hazel observed reflectively. "But still the law of life is +awfully harsh, don't you think, Bill? Isolation is a terrible thing +when it is so absolutely complete. Suppose something went wrong? +There's no help, and no mercy—absolutely none. You could die here by +inches and the woods and mountains would look calmly on, just as they +have looked on everything for thousands of years. It's like prison +regulations. You <I>must</I> do this, and you <I>must</I> do that, and there's +no excuse for mistakes. Nature, when you get close to her, is so +inexorable." +</P> + +<P> +Bill eyed her a second. Then he put his arms around her, and patted +her hair tenderly. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it getting on your nerves already, little person?" he asked. +"Nothing's going to go wrong. I've been in wild country too often to +make mistakes or get careless. And those are the two crimes for which +the North—or any wilderness—inflicts rather serious penalties. Life +isn't a bit harsher here than in the human ant heaps. Only everything +is more direct; cause and effect are linked up close. There are no +complexities. It's all done in the open, and if you don't play the +game according to the few simple rules you go down and out. That's all +there is to it. There's no doctor in the next block, nor a grocer to +take your order over the phone, and you can't run out to a café and +take dinner with a friend. But neither is the air swarming with +disease germs, nor are there malicious gossips to blast you with their +tongues, nor rent and taxes to pay every time you turn around. Nor am +I at the mercy of a job. And what does the old, settled country do to +you when you have neither money nor job? It treats you worse than the +worst the North can do; for, lacking the price, it denies you access to +the abundance that mocks you in every shop window, and bars you out of +the houses that line the streets. Here, everything needful is yours +for the taking. If one is ignorant, or unable to convert wood and +water and game to his own uses, he must learn how, or pay the penalty +of incompetence. No, little person, I don't think the law of life is +nearly so harsh here as it is where the mob struggles for its daily +bread. It's more open and aboveboard here; more up to the individual. +But it's lonely sometimes. I guess that's what ails you." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, pouf!" she denied. "I'm not lonely, so long as I've got you. But +sometimes I think of something happening to you—sickness and +accidents, and all that. One can't help thinking what might happen." +</P> + +<P> +"Forget it!" Bill exhorted. "That's the worst of living in this big, +still country—it makes one introspective, and so confoundedly +conscious of what puny atoms we human beings are, after all. But +there's less chance of sickness here than any place. Anyway, we've got +to take a chance on things now and then, in the course of living our +lives according to our lights. We're playing for a stake—and things +that are worth having are never handed to us on a silver salver. +Besides, I never had worse than a stomachache in my life and you're a +pretty healthy specimen yourself. Wait till I get that cabin built, +with a big fireplace at one end. We'll be more comfortable, and things +will look a little rosier. This thing of everlasting hurry and hard +work gets on anybody's nerves." +</P> + +<P> +The best of the afternoon was still unspent when the haystacking +terminated, and Bill declared a holiday. He rigged a line on a limber +willow wand, and with a fragment of venison for bait sought the pools +of the stream which flowed out the south opening. He prophesied that +in certain black eddies plump trout would be lurking, and he made his +prophecy good at the first pool. Hazel elected herself gun-bearer to +the expedition, but before long Bill took up that office while she +snared trout after trout from the stream—having become something of an +angler herself under Bill's schooling. And when they were frying the +fish that evening he suddenly observed: +</P> + +<P> +"Say, they were game little fellows, these, weren't they? Wasn't that +better sport than taking a street car out to the park and feeding the +swans?" +</P> + +<P> +"What an idea!" she laughed. "Who wants to feed swans in a park?" +</P> + +<P> +But when the fire had sunk to dull embers, and the stars were peeping +shyly in the open flap of their tent, she whispered in his ear: +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't think I'm complaining or lonesome or anything, Billy-boy, +when I make remarks like I did to-day. I love you a heap, and I'd be +happy anywhere with you. And I'm really and truly at home in the +wilderness. Only—only sometimes I have a funny feeling; as if I were +afraid. It seems silly, but this is all so different from our little +cabin. I look up at these big mountains, and they seem to be +scowling—as if we were trespassers or something." +</P> + +<P> +"I know." Bill drew her close to him. "But that's just mood. I've +felt that same sensation up here—a foolish, indefinable foreboding. +All the out-of-the-way places of the earth produce that effect, if one +is at all imaginative. It's the bigness of everything, and the eternal +stillness. I've caught myself listening—when I knew there was nothing +to hear. Makes a fellow feel like a small boy left by himself in some +big, gloomy building—awesome. Sure, I know it. It would be hard on +the nerves to live here always. But we're only after a stake—then all +the pleasant places of the earth are open to us; with that little, old +log house up by Pine River for a refuge whenever we get tired of the +world at large. Cuddle up and go to sleep. You're a dead-game sport, +or you'd have hollered long ago." +</P> + +<P> +And, next day, to Hazel, sitting by watching him swing the heavy, +double-bitted ax on the foundation logs of their winter home, it all +seemed foolish, that heaviness of heart which sometimes assailed her. +She was perfectly happy. In each of them the good, red blood of youth +ran full and strong, offering ample security against illness. They had +plenty of food. In a few brief months Bill would wrest a sack of gold +from the treasure house of the North, and they would journey home by +easy stages. Why should she brood? It was sheer folly—a mere ebb of +spirit. +</P> + +<P> +Fortune favored them to the extent of letting the October storms remain +in abeyance until Bill finished his cabin, with a cavernous fireplace +of rough stone at one end. He split planks for a door out of raw +timber, and graced his house with two windows—one of four small panes +of glass carefully packed in their bedding all the way from Hazleton, +the other a two-foot square of deerskin scraped parchment thin; opaque +to the vision, it still permitted light to enter. The floor was plain +earth, a condition Bill promised to remedy with hides of moose, once +his buildings were completed. Rudely finished, and lacking much that +would have made for comfort, still it served its purpose, and Hazel +made shift contentedly. +</P> + +<P> +Followed then the erection of a stable to shelter the horses. Midway +of its construction a cloud bank blew out of the northeast, and a foot +of snow fell. Then it cleared to brilliant days of frost. Bill +finished his stable. At night he tied the horses therein. By day they +were turned loose to rustle their fodder from under the crisp snow. It +was necessary to husband the stock of hay, for spring might be late. +</P> + +<P> +After that they went hunting. The third day Bill shot two moose in an +open glade ten miles afield. It took them two more days to haul in the +frozen meat on a sled. +</P> + +<P> +"Looks like one side of a butcher shop," Bill remarked, viewing the +dressed meat where it hung on a pole scaffolding beyond reach of the +wolves. +</P> + +<P> +"It certainly does," Hazel replied. "We'll never eat all that." +</P> + +<P> +"Probably not," he smiled. "But there's nothing like having plenty. +The moose might emigrate, you know. I think I'll add a deer to that +lot for variety—if I can find one." +</P> + +<P> +He managed this in the next few days, and also laid in a stock of +frozen trout by the simple expedient of locating a large pool, and +netting the speckled denizens thereof through a hole in the ice. +</P> + +<P> +So their larder was amply supplied. And, as the cold rigidly tightened +its grip, and succeeding snows deepened the white blanket till +snowshoes became imperative, Bill began to string out a line of traps. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BOREAS CHANTS HIS LAY +</H3> + + +<P> +December winged by, the days succeeding each other like glittering +panels on a black ground of long, drear nights. Christmas came. They +mustered up something of the holiday spirit, dining gayly off a roast +of caribou. For the occasion Hazel had saved the last half dozen +potatoes. With the material at her command she evolved a Christmas +pudding, serving it with brandy sauce. And after satisfying appetites +bred of a morning tilt with Jack Frost along Bill's trap line, they +spent a pleasant hour picturing their next Christmas. There would be +holly and bright lights and music—the festival spirit freed of all +restraint. +</P> + +<P> +The new year was born in a wild smother of flying snow, which died at +dawn to let a pale, heatless sun peer tentatively over the southern +mountains, his slanting beams setting everything aglitter. Frost +particles vibrated in the air, coruscating diamond dust. Underfoot, on +the path beaten betwixt house and stable, the snow crunched and +complained as they walked, and in the open where the mad winds had +piled it in hard, white windrows. But in the thick woods it lay as it +had fallen, full five foot deep, a downy wrapping for the slumbering +earth, over which Bill Wagstaff flitted on his snowshoes as silently as +a ghost—a fur-clad ghost, however, who bore a rifle on his shoulder, +and whose breath exhaled in white, steamy puffs. +</P> + +<P> +Gold or no gold, the wild land was giving up its treasure to them. +Already the catch of furs totaled ninety marten, a few mink, a dozen +wolves—and two pelts of that rara avis, the silver fox. Around twelve +hundred dollars, Bill estimated, with four months yet to trap. And the +labor of tending the trap lines, of skinning and stretching the catch, +served to keep them both occupied—Hazel as much as he, for she went +out with him on all but the hardest trips. So that their isolation in +the hushed, white world where the frost ruled with an iron hand had not +so far become oppressive. They were too busy to develop that dour +affliction of the spirit which loneliness and idleness breed through +the long winters of the North. +</P> + +<P> +A day or two after the first of the year Roaring Bill set out to go +over one of the uttermost trap lines. Five minutes after closing the +door he was back. +</P> + +<P> +"Easy with that fire, little person," he cautioned. "She's blowing out +of the northwest again. The sparks are sailing pretty high. Keep your +eye on it, Hazel." +</P> + +<P> +"All right, Billum," she replied. "I'll be careful." +</P> + +<P> +Not more than fifty yards separated the house and stable. At the +stable end stood the stack of hay, a low hummock above the surrounding +drift. Except for the place where Bill daily removed the supply for +his horses there was not much foothold for a spark, since a thin coat +of snow overlaid the greater part of the top. But there was that +chance of catastrophe. The chimney of their fireplace yawned wide to +the sky, vomiting sparks and ash like a miniature volcano when the fire +was roughly stirred, or an extra heavy supply of dry wood laid on. +When the wind whistled out of the northwest the line of flight was fair +over the stack. It behooved them to watch wind and fire. By keeping a +bed of coals and laying on a stick or two at a time a gale might roar +across the chimney-top without sucking forth a spark large enough to +ignite the hay. Hence Bill's warning. He had spoken of it before. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel washed up her breakfast dishes, and set the cabin in order +according to her housewifely instincts. Then she curled up in the +chair which Bill had painstakingly constructed for her especial comfort +with only ax and knife for tools. She was working up a pair of +moccasins after an Indian pattern, and she grew wholly absorbed in the +task, drawing stitch after stitch of sinew strongly and neatly into +place. The hours flicked past in unseemly haste, so completely was she +engrossed. When at length the soreness of her fingers warned her that +she had been at work a long time, she looked at her watch. +</P> + +<P> +"Goodness me! Bill's due home any time, and I haven't a thing ready to +eat," she exclaimed. "And here's my fire nearly out." +</P> + +<P> +She piled on wood, and stirring the coals under it, fanned them with +her husband's old felt hat, forgetful of sparks or aught but that she +should be cooking against his hungry arrival. Outside, the wind blew +lustily, driving the loose snow across the open in long, wavering +ribbons. But she had forgotten that it was in the dangerous quarter, +and she did not recall that important fact even when she sat down again +to watch her moose steaks broil on the glowing coals raked apart from +the leaping blaze. The flames licked into the throat of the chimney +with the purr of a giant cat. +</P> + +<P> +No sixth sense warned her of impending calamity. It burst upon her +with startling abruptness only when she opened the door to throw out +some scraps of discarded meat, for the blaze of the burning stack shot +thirty feet in the air, and the smoke rolled across the meadow in a +sooty manner. +</P> + +<P> +Bareheaded, in a thin pair of moccasins, without coat or mittens to +fend her from the lance-toothed frost. Hazel ran to the stable. She +could get the horses out, perhaps, before the log walls became their +crematory. But Bill, coming in from his traps, reached the stable +first, and there was nothing for her to do but stand and watch with a +sickening self-reproach. He untied and clubbed the reluctant horses +outside. Already the stable end against the hay was shooting up +tongues of flame. As the blaze lapped swiftly over the roof and ate +into the walls, the horses struggled through the deep drift, lunging +desperately to gain a few yards, then turned to stand with ears pricked +up at the strange sight, shivering in the bitter northwest wind that +assailed their bare, unprotected bodies. +</P> + +<P> +Bill himself drew back from the fire, and stared at it fixedly. He +kept silence until Hazel timidly put her hand on his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"You watched that fire all right, didn't you?" he said then. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill, Bill!" she cried. But he merely shrugged his shoulders, and +kept his gaze fixed on the burning stable. +</P> + +<P> +To Hazel, shivering with the cold, even close as she was to the intense +heat, it seemed an incredibly short time till a glowing mound below the +snow level was all that remained; a black-edged pit that belched smoke +and sparks. That and five horses humped tail to the driving wind, +stolidly enduring. She shuddered with something besides the cold. And +then Bill spoke absently, his eyes still on the smoldering heap. +</P> + +<P> +"Five feet of caked snow on top of every blade of grass," she heard him +mutter. "They can't browse on trees, like deer. Aw, hell!" +</P> + +<P> +He had stuck his rifle butt first in the snow. He walked over to it; +Hazel followed. When he stood, with the rifle slung in the crook of +his arm, she tried again to break through this silent aloofness which +cut her more deeply than any harshness of speech could have done. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill, I'm so sorry!" she pleaded. "It's terrible, I know. What can +we do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do? Huh!" he snorted. "If I ever have to die before my time, I hope +it will be with a full belly and my head in the air—and mercifully +swift." +</P> + +<P> +Even then she had no clear idea of his intention. She looked up at him +pleadingly, but he was staring at the horses, his teeth biting +nervously at his under lip. Suddenly he blinked, and she saw his eyes +moisten. In the same instant he threw up the rifle. At the thin, +vicious crack of it, Silk collapsed. +</P> + +<P> +She understood then. With her hand pressed hard over her mouth to keep +back the hysterical scream that threatened, she fled to the house. +Behind her the rifle spat forth its staccato message of death. For a +few seconds the mountains flung whiplike echoes back and forth in a +volley. Then the sibilant voice of the wind alone broke the stillness. +</P> + +<P> +Numbed with the cold, terrified at the elemental ruthlessness of it +all, she threw herself on the bed, denied even the relief of tears. +Dry-eyed and heavy-hearted, she waited her husband's coming, and +dreading it—for the first time she had seen her Bill look on her with +cold, critical anger. For an interminable time she lay listening for +the click of the latch, every nerve strung tight. +</P> + +<P> +He came at last, and the thump of his rifle as he stood it against the +wall had no more than sounded before he was bending over her. He sat +down on the edge of the bed, and putting his arm across her shoulders, +turned her gently so that she faced him. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind, little person," he whispered. "It's done and over. I'm +sorry I slashed at you the way I did. That's a fool man's way—if he's +hurt and sore he always has to jump on somebody else." +</P> + +<P> +Then by some queer complexity of her woman's nature the tears forced +their way. She did not want to cry—only the weak and mushy-minded +wept. She had always fought back tears unless she was shaken to the +roots of her soul. But it was almost a relief to cry with Bill's arm +holding her close. And it was brief. She sat up beside him presently. +He held her hand tucked in between his own two palms, but he looked +wistfully at the window, as if he were seeing what lay beyond. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor, dumb devils!" he murmured. "I feel like a murderer. But it was +pure mercy to them. They won't suffer the agony of frost, nor the slow +pain of starvation. That's what it amounted to—they'd starve if they +didn't freeze first. I've known men I would rather have shot. I +bucked many a hard old trail with Silk and Satin. Poor, dumb devils!" +</P> + +<P> +"D-don't, Bill!" she cried forlornly. "I know it's my fault. I let +the fire almost go out, and then built it up big without thinking. And +I know being sorry doesn't make any difference. But please—I don't +want to be miserable over it. I'll never be careless again." +</P> + +<P> +"All right; I won't talk about it, hon," he said. "I don't think you +will ever be careless about such things again. The North won't let us +get away with it. The wilderness is bigger than we are, and it's +merciless if we make mistakes." +</P> + +<P> +"I see that." She shuddered involuntarily. "It's a grim country. It +frightens me." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't let it," he said tenderly. "So long as we have our health and +strength we can win out, and be stronger for the experience. Winter's +a tough proposition up here, but you want to fight shy of morbid +brooding over things that can't be helped. This ever-lasting frost and +snow will be gone by and by. It'll be spring. And everything looks +different when there's green grass and flowers, and the sun is warm. +Buck up, old girl—Bill's still on the job." +</P> + +<P> +"How can you prospect in the spring without horses to pack the outfit?" +she asked, after a little. "How can we get out of here with all the +stuff we'll have?" +</P> + +<P> +"We'll manage it," he assured lightly. "We'll get out with our furs +and gold, all right, and we won't go hungry on the way, even if we have +no pack train. Leave it to me." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +JACK FROST WITHDRAWS +</H3> + + +<P> +All through the month of January each evening, as dusk folded its +somber mantle about the meadow, the wolves gathered to feast on the +dead horses, till Hazel's nerves were strained to the snapping point. +Continually she was reminded of that vivid episode, of which she had +been the unwitting cause. Sometimes she would open the door, and from +out the dark would arise the sound of wolfish quarrels over the feast, +disembodied snappings and snarlings. Or when the low-swimming moon +shed a misty glimmer on the open she would peer through a thawed place +on the window-pane, and see gray shapes circling about the half-picked +skeletons. Sometimes, when Bill was gone, and all about the cabin was +utterly still, one, bolder or hungrier than his fellows, would trot +across the meadow, drawn by the scent of the meat. Two or three of +these Hazel shot with her own rifle. +</P> + +<P> +But when February marked another span on the calendar the wolves came +no more. The bones were clean. +</P> + +<P> +There was no impending misfortune or danger that she could point to or +forecast with certitude. Nevertheless, struggle against it as she +might, knowing it for pure psychological phenomena arising out of her +harsh environment. Hazel suffered continual vague forebodings. The +bald, white peaks seemed to surround her like a prison from which there +could be no release. From day to day she was harassed by dismal +thoughts. She would wake in the night clutching at her husband. Such +days as he went out alone she passed in restless anxiety. Something +would happen. What it would be she did not know, but to her it seemed +that the bleak stage was set for untoward drama, and they two the +puppets that must play. +</P> + +<P> +She strove against this impression with cold logic; but reason availed +nothing against the feeling that the North had but to stretch forth its +mighty hand and crush them utterly. But all of this she concealed from +Bill. She was ashamed of her fears, the groundless uneasiness. Yet it +was a constant factor in her daily life, and it sapped her vitality as +surely and steadily as lack of bodily nourishment could have done. +</P> + +<P> +Had there been in her make-up any inherent weakness of mentality, Hazel +might perhaps have brooded herself into neurasthenia. Few save those +who have actually experienced complete isolation for extended periods +can realize the queer, warped outlook such an existence imposes on the +human mind, if that mind is a trifle more than normally sensitive to +impressions, and a nature essentially social both by inclination and +habit. In the first months of their marriage she had assured herself +and him repeatedly that she could be perfectly happy and contented any +place on earth with Bill Wagstaff. +</P> + +<P> +Emotion has blinded wiser folk, and perhaps that is merely a little +device of nature's, for if one could look into the future with too +great a clarity of vision there would be fewer matings. In the main +her declaration still held true. She loved her husband with the same +intensity; possibly even more, for she had found in him none of the +flaws which every woman dreads that time and association may bring to +light in her chosen mate. +</P> + +<P> +When Bill drew her up close in his arms, the intangible menace of the +wilderness and all the dreary monotony of the days faded into the +background. But they, no more than others who have tried and failed +for lack of understanding, could not live their lives with their heads +in an emotional cloud. For every action there must be a corresponding +reaction. They who have the capacity to reach the heights must +likewise, upon occasion, plumb the depths. Life, she began to realize, +resolved itself into an unending succession of little, trivial things, +with here and there some great event looming out above all the rest for +its bestowal of happiness or pain. +</P> + +<P> +Bill knew. He often talked about such things. She was beginning to +understand that he had a far more comprehensive grasp of the +fundamentals of existence that she had. He had explained to her that +the individual unit was nothing outside of his group affiliations, and +she applied that to herself in a practical way in an endeavor to +analyze herself. She was a group product, and only under group +conditions could her life flow along nonirritant lines. Such being the +case, it followed that if Bill persisted in living out of the world +they would eventually drift apart, in spirit if not in actuality. And +that was an absurd summing-up. +</P> + +<P> +She rejected the conclusion decisively. For was not their present +situation the net result of a concrete endeavor to strike a balance +between the best of what both the wilderness and the humming cities had +to offer them? It seemed treason to Bill to long for other voices and +other faces. Yet she could not help the feeling. She wondered if he, +too, did not sometimes long for company besides her own. And the +thought stirred up a perverse jealousy. They two, perfectly mated in +all things, should be able to make their own little world complete—but +they could not, she knew. Life was altogether too complex an affair to +be solved in so primitive a fashion. She felt that continued living +under such conditions would drive her mad; that if she stayed long +enough under the somber shadow of the Klappan Range she would hate the +North and all it contained. +</P> + +<P> +That would have been both unjust and absurd, so she set herself +resolutely to overcome that feeling of oppression. She was too +well-balanced to drift unwittingly along this perilous road of thought. +She schooled herself to endure and to fight off introspection. She had +absorbed enough of her husband's sturdy philosophy of life to try and +make the best of a bad job. After all, she frequently assured herself, +the badness of the job was mostly a state of mind. And she had a +growing conviction that Bill sensed the struggle, and that it hurt him. +For that reason, if for no other, she did her best to make light of the +grim environment, and to wait patiently for spring. +</P> + +<P> +February and March stormed a path furiously across the calendar. +Higher and higher the drifts piled about the cabin, till at length it +was banked to the eaves with snow save where Bill shoveled it away to +let light to the windows. Day after day they kept indoors, stoking up +the fire, listening to the triumphant whoop of the winds. +</P> + +<P> +"Snow, snow!" Hazel burst out one day. "Frost that cuts you like a +knife. I wonder if there's ever going to be an end to it? I wish we +were home again—or some place." +</P> + +<P> +"So do I, little person," Bill said gently. "But spring's almost at +the door. Hang on a little longer. We've made a fair stake, anyway, +if we don't wash an ounce of gold." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel let her gaze wander over the pelts hanging thick from ridge log +and wall. Bill had fared well at his trapping. Over two thousand +dollars he estimated the value of his catch. +</P> + +<P> +"How are we going to get it all out?" She voiced a troublesome thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Shoulder pack to the Skeena," he answered laconically. "Build a +dugout there, and float downstream. Portage the rapids as they come." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Bill!" she came and leaned her head against him contritely. "Our +poor ponies! And it was all my carelessness." +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind, hon," he comforted. "They blinked out without suffering. +And we'll make it like a charm. Be game—it'll soon be spring." +</P> + +<P> +As if in verification of his words, with the last breath of that +howling storm came a sudden softening of the atmosphere. The sharp +teeth of the frost became swiftly blunted, and the sun, swinging daily +in a wider arc, brought the battery of his rays into effective play on +the mountainsides. The drifts lessened, shrunk, became moisture +sodden. For ten days or more the gradual thaw increased. Then a +lusty-lunged chinook wind came booming up along the Klappan Range, and +stripped it to a bare, steaming heap. Overhead whistled the first +flight of the wild goose, bound for the nesting grounds. Night and day +the roar of a dozen cataracts droned on all sides of the basin, as the +melting snow poured down in the annual spring flood. +</P> + +<P> +By April the twentieth the abdication of Jack Frost was complete. A +kindlier despot ruled the land, and Bill Wagstaff began to talk of gold. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE STRIKE +</H3> + + +<P CLASS="poem"> +". . . that precious yellow metal sought by men<BR> +In regions desolate.<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Pursued in patient hope or furious toil;</SPAN><BR> +Breeder of discord, wars, and murderous hate;<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The victor's spoil."</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +So Hazel quoted, leaning over her husband's shoulder. In the bottom of +his pan, shining among a film of black sand, lay half a dozen bright +specks, varying from pin-point size to the bigness of a grain of wheat. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the stuff," Bill murmured. "Only it seems rather far-fetched +for your poet to blame inanimate matter for the cussedness of humanity +in general. I suppose, though, he thought he was striking a highly +dramatic note. Anyway, it looks as if we'd struck it pretty fair. +It's time, too—the June rise will hit us like a whirlwind one of these +days." +</P> + +<P> +"About what is the value of those little pieces?" Hazel asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, fifty or sixty cents," he answered. "Not much by itself. But it +seems to be uniform over the bar—and I can wash a good many pans in a +day's work." +</P> + +<P> +"I should think so," she remarked. "It didn't take you ten minutes to +do that one." +</P> + +<P> +"Whitey Lewis and I took out over two hundred dollars a day on that +other creek last spring—no, a year last spring, it was," he observed +reminiscently. "This isn't as good, but it's not to be sneezed at, +either. I think I'll make me a rocker. I've sampled this bend quite a +lot, and I don't think I can do any better than fly at this while the +water stays low." +</P> + +<P> +"I can help, can't I?" she said eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," he smiled. "You help a lot, little person, just sitting around +keeping me company." +</P> + +<P> +"But I want to work," she declared. "I've sat around now till I'm +getting the fidgets." +</P> + +<P> +"All right; I'll give you a job," he returned good-naturedly. +"Meantime, let's eat that lunch you packed up here." +</P> + +<P> +In a branch of the creek which flowed down through the basin. Bill had +found plentiful colors as soon as the first big run-off of water had +fallen. He had followed upstream painstakingly, panning colors always, +and now and then a few grains of coarse gold to encourage him in the +quest. The loss of their horses precluded ranging far afield to that +other glacial stream which he had worked with Whitey Lewis when he was +a free lance in the North. He was close to his base of supplies, and +he had made wages—with always the prospector's lure of a rich strike +on the next bar. +</P> + +<P> +And now, with May well advanced, he had found definite indications of +good pay dirt. The creek swung in a hairpin curve, and in the neck +between the two sides of the loop the gold was sifted through wash +gravel and black sand, piled there by God only knew how many centuries +of glacial drift and flood. But it was there. He had taken panfuls at +random over the bar, and uniformly it gave up coarse gold. With a +rocker he stood a fair chance of big money before the June rise. +</P> + +<P> +"In the morning," said he, when lunch was over, "I'll bring along the +ax and some nails and a shovel, and get busy." +</P> + +<P> +That night they trudged down to the cabin in high spirits. Bill had +washed out enough during the afternoon to make a respectable showing on +Hazel's outspread handkerchief. And Hazel was in a gleeful mood over +the fact that she had unearthed a big nugget by herself. Beginner's +luck, Bill said teasingly, but that did not diminish her elation. The +old, adventurous glamour, which the long winter and moods of depression +had worn threadbare, began to cast its pleasant spell over her again. +The fascination of the gold hunt gripped her. Not for the stuff +itself, but for what it would get. She wondered if the men who dared +the impassive solitudes of the North for weary, lonesome years saw in +every morsel of the gold they found a picture of what that gold would +buy them in kindlier lands. And some never found any, never won the +stake that would justify the gamble. It was a gamble, in a sense—a +pure game of chance; but a game that took strength, and nerve, a sturdy +soul, to play. +</P> + +<P> +Still, the gold was there, locked up in divers storing places in the +lap of the earth, awaiting those virile enough to find and take. And +out beyond, in the crowded places of the earth, were innumerable +gateways to comfort and pleasure which could be opened with gold. It +remained only to balance the one against the other. Just as she had +often planned according to her opportunities when she was a wage slave +in the office of Bush and Company, so now did she plan for the future +on a broader scale, now that the North promised to open its treasure +vault to them—an attitude which Bill Wagstaff encouraged and abetted +in his own whimsical fashion. There was nothing too good for them, he +sometimes observed, provided it could be got. But there was one +profound difference in their respective temperaments, Hazel sometimes +reflected. Bill would shrug his wide shoulders, and forget or forego +the unattainable, where she would chafe and fume. She was quite +positive of this. +</P> + +<P> +But as the days passed there seemed no question of their complete +success. Bill fabricated his rocker, a primitive, boxlike device with +a blanket screen and transverse slats below. It was faster than the +pan, even rude as it was, and it caught all but the finer particles of +gold. Hazel helped operate the rocker, and took her turn at shoveling +or filling the box with water while Bill rocked. Each day's end sent +her to her bed healthily tired, but happily conscious that she had +helped to accomplish something. +</P> + +<P> +A queer twist of luck put the cap-sheaf on their undertaking. Hazel +ran a splinter of wood into her hand, thus putting a stop to her +activities with shovel and pail. Until the wound lost its soreness she +was forced to sit idle. She could watch Bill ply his rocker while she +fought flies on the bank. This grew tiresome, particularly since she +had the sense to realize that a man who works with sweat streaming down +his face and a mind wholly absorbed in the immediate task has no desire +to be bothered with inconsequential chatter. So she rambled along the +creek one afternoon, armed with hook and line on a pliant willow in +search of sport. +</P> + +<P> +The trout were hungry, and struck fiercely at the bait. She soon had +plenty for supper and breakfast. Wherefore she abandoned that +diversion, and took to prying tentatively in the lee of certain +bowlders on the edge of the creek—prospecting on her own initiative, +as it were. She had no pan, and only one hand to work with, but she +knew gold when she saw it—and, after all, it was but an idle method of +killing time. +</P> + +<P> +She noticed behind each rock and in every shallow, sheltered place in +the stream a plentiful gathering of tiny red stones. They were of a +pale, ruby cast, and mostly flawed; dainty trifles, translucent and +full of light when she held them to the sun. She began a search for a +larger specimen. It might mount nicely into a stickpin for Bill, she +thought; a memento of the Klappan Range. +</P> + +<P> +And in this search she came upon a large, rusty pebble, snuggled on the +downstream side of an over-hanging rock right at the water's edge. It +attracted her first by its symmetrical form, a perfect oval; then, when +she lifted it, by its astonishing weight. She continued her search for +the pinkish-red stones, carrying the rusty pebble along. Presently she +worked her way back to where Roaring Bill labored prodigiously. +</P> + +<P> +"I feel ashamed to be loafing while you work so hard, Billy-boy," she +greeted. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me a kiss and I'll call it square," he proposed cheerfully. "Got +to work like a beaver, kid. This hot weather'll put us to the bad +before long. There'll be ten feet of water roaring down here one of +these days." +</P> + +<P> +"Look at these pretty stones I found," she said. "What are they, Bill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Those?" He looked at her outstretched palm. "Garnets." +</P> + +<P> +"Garnets? They must be valuable, then," she observed. "The creek's +full of them." +</P> + +<P> +"Valuable? I should say so," he grinned. "I sent a sample to a +Chicago firm once. They replied to the effect that they would take all +I could deliver, and pay thirty-six dollars a ton, f. o. b., my nearest +railroad station." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" she protested. "But they're pretty." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, if you can find one of any size. What's the other rock?" he +inquired casually. "You making a collection of specimens?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's just a funny stone I found," she returned. "It must be iron or +something. It's terribly heavy for its size." +</P> + +<P> +"Eh? Let me see it," he said. +</P> + +<P> +She handed it over. +</P> + +<P> +He weighed it in his palm, scrutinized it closely, turning it over and +over. Then he took out his knife and scratched the rusty surface +vigorously for a few minutes. +</P> + +<P> +"Huh!" he grunted. "Look at your funny stone." +</P> + +<P> +He held it out for her inspection. The blade of his knife had left a +dull, yellow scar. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" she gasped. "Why—it's gold!" +</P> + +<P> +"It is, woman," he declaimed, with mock solemnity. "Gold—glittering +gold! +</P> + +<P> +"Say, where did you find this?" he asked, when Hazel stared at the +nugget, dumb in the face of this unexpected stroke of fortune. +</P> + +<P> +"Just around the second bend," she cried. "Oh, Bill, do you suppose +there's any more there?" +</P> + +<P> +"Lead me to it with my trusty pan and shovel, and we'll see," Bill +smiled. +</P> + +<P> +Forthwith they set out. The overhanging bowlder was a scant ten +minute's walk up the creek. +</P> + +<P> +Bill leaned on his shovel, and studied the ground. Then, getting down +on his knees at the spot where the marks of Hazel's scratching showed +plain enough, he began to paw over the gravel. +</P> + +<P> +Within five minutes his fingers brought to light a second lump, double +the size of her find. Close upon that he winnowed a third. Hazel +leaned over him, breathless. He sifted the gravel and sand through his +fingers slowly, picking out and examining all that might be the +precious metal, and as he picked and clawed the rusty, brown nuggets +came to light. At last he reached bottom. The bowlder thrust out +below in a natural shelf. From this Bill carefully scraped the +accumulation of black sand and gravel, gleaning as a result of his +labor a baker's dozen of assorted chunks—one giant that must have +weighed three pounds. He sat back on his haunches, and looked at his +wife, speechless. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that truly <I>all</I> gold, Bill?" she whispered incredulously. +</P> + +<P> +"It certainly is—as good gold as ever went into the mint," he assured. +"All laid in a nice little nest on this shelf of rock. I've heard of +such things up in this country, but I never ran into one before—and +I've always taken this pocket theory with a grain of salt. But there +you are. That's a real, honest-to-God pocket. And a well-lined one, +if you ask me. This rusty-colored outside is oxidized iron—from the +black sand, I guess. Still, it might be something else. But I know +what the inside is, all right, all right." +</P> + +<P> +"My goodness!" she murmured. "There might be wagonloads of it in this +creek." +</P> + +<P> +"There might, but it isn't likely." Bill shook his head. "This is a +simon-pure pocket, and it would keep a graduate mineralogist guessing +to say how it got here, because it's a different proposition from the +wash gold in the creek bed. I've got all that's here, I'm pretty sure. +And you might prospect this creek from end to end and never find +another nugget bigger than a pea. It's rich placer ground, at +that—but this pocket's almost unbelievable. Must be forty pounds of +gold there. And you found it. You're the original mascot, little +person." +</P> + +<P> +He bestowed a bearlike hug upon her. +</P> + +<P> +"Now what?" she asked. "It hardly seems real to pick up several +thousand dollars in half an hour or so like this. What will we do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do? Why, bless your dear soul," he laughed. "We'll just consider +ourselves extra lucky, and keep right on with the game till the high +water makes us quit." +</P> + +<P> +Which was a contingency nearer at hand than even Bill, with a firsthand +knowledge of the North's vagaries in the way of flood, quite +anticipated. +</P> + +<P> +Three days after the finding of the pocket the whole floor of the creek +was awash. His rocker went downstream overnight. To the mouth of the +cañon where the branch sought junction with the parent stream they +could ascend, and no farther. And when Bill saw that he rolled himself +a cigarette, and, putting one long arm across his wife's shoulders, +said whimsically: +</P> + +<P> +"What d'you say we start home?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE STRESS OF THE TRAIL +</H3> + + +<P> +Roaring Bill dumped his second pack on the summit of the Klappan, and +looked away to where the valley that opened out of the basin showed its +blurred hollow in the distance. But he uttered no useless regrets. +With horses they could have ridden south through a rolling country, +where every stretch of timber gave on a grass-grown level. Instead +they were forced back over the rugged route by which they had crossed +the range the summer before. Grub, bedding, furs, and gold totaled two +hundred pounds. On his sturdy shoulders Bill could pack half that +weight. For his wife the thing was a physical impossibility, even had +he permitted her to try. Hence every mile advanced meant that he +doubled the distance, relaying from one camp to the next. They cut +their bedding to a blanket apiece, and that was Hazel's load—all he +would allow her to carry. +</P> + +<P> +"You're no pack mule, little person," he would say. "It don't hurt me. +I've done this for years." +</P> + +<P> +But even with abnormal strength and endurance, it was killing work to +buck those ragged slopes with a heavy load. Only by terrible, +unremitting effort could he advance any appreciable distance. From +daybreak till noon they would climb and rest alternately. Then, after +a meal and a short breathing spell, he would go back alone after the +second load. They were footsore, and their bodies ached with weariness +that verged on pain when they gained the pass that cut the summit of +the Klappan Range. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we're over the hump," Bill remarked thankfully. "It's a +downhill shoot to the Skeena. I don't think it's more than fifty or +sixty miles to where we can take to the water." +</P> + +<P> +They made better time on the western slope, but the journey became a +matter of sheer endurance. Summer was on them in full blaze. The +creeks ran full and strong. Thunderstorms blew up out of a clear sky +to deluge them. Food was scanty—flour and salt and tea; with meat and +fish got by the way. And the black flies and mosquitoes swarmed about +them maddeningly day and night. +</P> + +<P> +So they came at last to the Skeena, and Hazel's heart misgave her when +she took note of its swirling reaches, the sinuous eddies—a deep, +swift, treacherous stream. But Bill rested overnight, and in the +morning sought and felled a sizable cedar, and began to hew. Slowly +the thick trunk shaped itself to the form of a boat under the steady +swing of his ax. Hazel had seen the type in use among the coast +Siwashes, twenty-five feet in length, narrow-beamed, the sides cut to a +half inch in thickness, the bottom left heavier to withstand scraping +over rock, and to keep it on an even keel. A rude and tricky craft, +but one wholly efficient in capable hands. +</P> + +<P> +In a week it was finished. They loaded the sack of gold, the bundle of +furs, their meager camp outfit amidships, and swung off into the stream. +</P> + +<P> +The Skeena drops fifteen hundred feet in a hundred miles. Wherefore +there are rapids, boiling stretches of white water in which many a good +canoe has come to grief. Some of these they ran at imminent peril. +Over the worst they lined the canoe from the bank. One or two short +cañons they portaged, dragging the heavy dugout through the brush by +main strength. Once they came to a wall-sided gorge that ran away +beyond any attempt at portage, and they abandoned the dugout, to build +another at the lower end. But between these natural barriers they +clicked off the miles in hot haste, such was the swiftness of the +current. And in the second week of July they brought up at the head of +Kispiox Cañon. Hazleton lay a few miles below. But the Kispiox stayed +them, a sluice box cut through solid stone, in which the waters raged +with a deafening roar. No man ventured into that wild gorge. They +abandoned the dugout. Bill slung the sack of gold and the bale of furs +on his back. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the last lap, Hazel," said he. "We'll leave the rest of it for +the first Siwash that happens along." +</P> + +<P> +So they set out bravely to trudge the remaining distance. And as the +fortunes of the trail sometimes befall, they raised an Indian camp on +the bank of the river at the mouth of the cañon. A ten-dollar bill +made them possessors of another canoe, and an hour later the roofs of +Hazleton cropped up above the bank. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Bill," Hazel called from the bow. "Look! There's the same old +steamer tied to the same old bank. We've been gone a year, and yet the +world hasn't changed a mite. I wonder if Hazleton has taken a Rip van +Winkle sleep all this time?" +</P> + +<P> +"No fear," he smiled. "I can see some new houses—quite a few, in +fact. And look—by Jiminy! They're working on the grade. That +railroad, remember? See all those teams? Maybe I ought to have taken +up old Hackaberry on that town-lot proposition, after all." +</P> + +<P> +"Fiddlesticks!" she retorted, with fine scorn of Hazleton's real-estate +possibilities. "You could buy the whole town with this." +</P> + +<P> +She touched the sack with her toe. +</P> + +<P> +"Not quite," Bill returned placidly. "I wouldn't, anyway. We'll get a +better run for our money than that. I hope old Hack didn't forget to +attend to that ranch business for me." +</P> + +<P> +He drove the canoe alongside a float. A few loungers viewed them with +frank curiosity. Bill set out the treasure sack and the bale of furs, +and tied the canoe. +</P> + +<P> +"A new hotel, by Jove!" he remarked, when upon gaining the level of the +town a new two-story building blazoned with a huge sign its function as +a hostelry. "Getting quite metropolitan in this neck of the woods. +Say, little person, do you think you can relish a square meal? Planked +steak and lobster salad—huh? I wonder if they <I>could</I> rustle a salad +in this man's town? Say, do you know I'm just beginning to find out +how hungry I am for the flesh-pots. What's the matter with a little +variety?—as Lin MacLean said. Aren't you, hon?" +</P> + +<P> +She was; frankly so. For long, monotonous months she had been +struggling against just such cravings, impossible of realization, and +therefore all the more tantalizing. She had been a year in the +wilderness, and the wilderness had not only lost its glamour, but had +become a thing to flee from. Even the rude motley of Hazleton was a +welcome change. Here at least—on a minor scale, to be sure—was that +which she craved, and to which she had been accustomed—life, stir, +human activity, the very antithesis of the lonely mountain fastnesses. +She bestowed a glad pressure on her husband's arm as they walked up the +street, Bill carrying the sack of gold perched carelessly on one +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, their enterprise has gone the length of establishing a branch +bank here, I see." +</P> + +<P> +He called her attention to a square-fronted edifice, its new-boarded +walls as yet guiltless of paint, except where a row of black letters +set forth that it was the Bank of British North America. +</P> + +<P> +"That's a good place to stow this bullion," he remarked. "I want to +get it off my hands." +</P> + +<P> +So to the bank they bent their steps. A solemn, horse-faced Englishman +weighed the gold, and issued Bill a receipt, expressing a polite regret +that lack of facility to determine its fineness prevented him from +converting it into cash. +</P> + +<P> +"That means a trip to Vancouver," Bill remarked outside. "Well, we can +stand that." +</P> + +<P> +From the bank they went to the hotel, registered, and were shown to a +room. For the first time since the summit of the Klappan Range, where +her tiny hand glass had suffered disaster, Hazel was permitted a clear +view of herself in a mirror. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a perfect fright!" she mourned. +</P> + +<P> +"Huh!" Bill grunted. "You're all right. Look at me." +</P> + +<P> +The trail had dealt hardly with both, in the matter of their personal +appearance. Tanned to an abiding brown, they were, and Hazel's +one-time smooth face was spotted with fly bites and marked with certain +scratches suffered in the brush as they skirted the Kispiox. Her hair +had lost its sleek, glossy smoothness of arrangement. Her hands were +reddened and rough. But chiefly she was concerned with the sad state +of her apparel. She had come a matter of four hundred miles in the +clothes on her back—and they bore unequivocal evidence of the journey. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a perfect fright," she repeated pettishly. "I don't wonder that +people lapse into semi-barbarism in the backwoods. One's manners, +morals, clothing, and complexion all suffer from too close contact with +your beloved North, Bill." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks!" he returned shortly. "I suppose I'm a perfect fright, too. +Long hair, whiskers, grimy, calloused hands, and all the rest of it. A +shave and a hair cut, a bath and a new suit of clothes will remedy +that. But I'll be the same personality in every essential quality that +I was when I sweated over the Klappan with a hundred pounds on my back." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope so," she retorted. "I don't require the shave, thank goodness, +but I certainly need a bath—and clothes. I wish I had the gray suit +that's probably getting all moldy and moth-eaten at the Pine River +cabin. I wonder if I can get anything fit to wear here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Women live here," Bill returned quietly, "and I suppose the stores +supply 'em with duds. Unlimber that bank roll of yours, and do some +shopping." +</P> + +<P> +She sat on the edge of the bed, regarding her reflection in the mirror +with extreme disfavor. Bill fingered his thick stubble of a beard for +a thoughtful minute. Then he sat down beside her. +</P> + +<P> +"Wha's a mollah, hon?" he wheedled. "What makes you such a crosser +patch all at once?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I don't know," she answered dolefully. "I'm tired and hungry, and +I look a fright—and—oh, just everything." +</P> + +<P> +"Tut, tut!" he remonstrated good-naturedly. "That's just mood again. +We're out of the woods, literally and figuratively. If you're hungry, +let's go and see what we can make this hotel produce in the way of +grub, before we do anything else." +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't go into their dining-room looking like this for the world," +she said decisively. "I didn't realize how dirty and shabby I was." +</P> + +<P> +"All right; you go shopping, then," he proposed, "while I take these +furs up to old Hack's place and turn them into money. Then we'll +dress, and make this hotel feed us the best they've got. Cheer up. +Maybe it was tough on you to slice a year out of your life and leave it +in a country where there's nothing but woods and eternal silence—but +we've got around twenty thousand dollars to show for it, Hazel. And +one can't get something for nothing. There's a price mark on it +somewhere, always. We've got all our lives before us, little person, +and a better chance for happiness than most folks have. Don't let +little things throw you into the blues. Be my good little pal—and see +if you can't make one of these stores dig up a white waist and a black +skirt, like you had on the first time I saw you." +</P> + +<P> +He kissed her, and went quickly out. And after a long time of sober +staring at her image in the glass Hazel shook herself impatiently. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a silly, selfish, incompetent little beast," she whispered. "Bill +ought to thump me, instead of being kind. I can't do anything, and I +don't know much, and I'm a scarecrow for looks right now. And I +started out to be a real partner." +</P> + +<P> +She wiped an errant tear away, and made her way to a store—a new place +sprung up, like the bank and the hotel, with the growing importance of +the town. The stock of ready-made clothing drove her to despair. It +seemed that what women resided in Hazleton must invariably dress in +Mother Hubbard gowns of cheap cotton print with other garments to +match. But eventually they found for her undergarments of a sort, a +waist and skirt, and a comfortable pair of shoes. Hats, as a milliner +would understand the term, there were none. And in default of such she +stuck to the gray felt sombrero she had worn into the Klappan and out +again—which, in truth, became her very well, when tilted at the proper +angle above her heavy black hair. Then she went back to the hotel, and +sought a bathroom. +</P> + +<P> +Returning from this she found Bill, a Bill all shaved and shorn, +unloading himself of sundry packages of new attire. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha, everything is lovely," he greeted enthusiastically. "Old Hack +jumped at the pelts, and paid a fat price for the lot. Also the ranch +deal has gone through. He's a prince, old Hack. Sent up a man and had +it surveyed and classified and the deed waiting for me. And—oh, say, +here's a letter for you." +</P> + +<P> +"For me? Oh, yes," as she looked at the hand-writing and postmark. "I +wrote to Loraine Marsh when we were going north. Good heavens, look at +the date—it's been here since last September!" +</P> + +<P> +"Hackaberry knew where we were," Bill explained. "Sometimes in camps +like this they hold mail two or three years for men that have gone into +the interior." +</P> + +<P> +She put aside the letter, and dressed while Bill had his bath. Then, +with the smoke and grime of a hard trail obliterated, and with decent +clothes upon them, they sought the dining-room. There, while they +waited to be served, Hazel read Loraine Marsh's letter, and passed it +to Bill with a self-conscious little laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"There's an invitation there we might accept," she said casually. +</P> + +<P> +Bill read. There were certain comments upon her marriage, such as the +average girl might be expected to address to her chum who has forsaken +spinsterhood, a lot of chatty mention of Granville people and Granville +happenings, which held no particular interest for Bill since he knew +neither one nor the other, and it ended with an apparently sincere hope +that Hazel and her husband would visit Granville soon as the Marshes' +guests. +</P> + +<P> +He returned the letter as the waitress brought their food. +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't it be nice to take a trip home?" Hazel suggested +thoughtfully. "I'd love to." +</P> + +<P> +"We are going home," Bill reminded gently. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, of course," she smiled. "But I mean to Granville. I'd like to go +back there with you for a while, just to—just to—" +</P> + +<P> +"To show 'em," he supplied laconically. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Bill!" she pouted. +</P> + +<P> +Nevertheless, she could not deny that there was a measure of truth in +his brief remark. She did want to "show 'em." Bill's vernacular +expressed it exactly. She had compassed success in a manner that +Granville—and especially that portion of Granville which she knew and +which knew her—could appreciate and understand and envy according to +its individual tendencies. +</P> + +<P> +She looked across the table at her husband, and thought to herself with +proud satisfaction that she had done well. Viewed from any angle +whatsoever, Bill Wagstaff stood head and shoulders above all the men +she had ever known. Big, physically and mentally, clean-minded and +capable—indubitably she had captured a lion, and, though she might +have denied stoutly the imputation, she wanted Granville to see her +lion and hear him roar. +</P> + +<P> +Whether they realize the fact or not, to the average individual, male +or female, reflected glory is better than none at all. And when two +people stand in the most intimate relation to each other, the success +of one lends a measure of its luster to the other. Those who had been +so readily impressed by Andrew Bush's device to singe her social wings +with the flame of gossip had long since learned their mistake. She had +the word of Loraine Marsh and Jack Barrow that they were genuinely +sorry for having been carried away by appearances. And she could nail +her colors to the mast if she came home the wife of a man like Bill +Wagstaff, who could wrest a fortune from the wilderness in a briefer +span of time than it took most men to make current expenses. Hazel was +quite too human to refuse a march triumphal if it came her way. She +had left Granville in bitterness of spirit, and some of that bitterness +required balm. +</P> + +<P> +"Still thinking Granville?" Bill queried, when they had finished an +uncommonly silent meal. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel flushed slightly. She was, and momentarily she felt that she +should have been thinking of their little nest up by Pine River Pass +instead. She knew that Bill was homing to the cabin. She herself +regarded it with affection, but of a different degree from his. Her +mind was more occupied with another, more palpitating circle of life +than was possible at the cabin, much as she appreciated its green and +peaceful beauty. The sack of gold lying in the bank had somehow opened +up far-flung possibilities. She skipped the interval of affairs which +she knew must be attended to, and betook herself and Bill to Granville, +thence to the bigger, older cities, where money shouted in the voice of +command, where all things were possible to those who had the price. +</P> + +<P> +She had had her fill of the wilderness—for the time being, she put it. +It loomed behind her—vast, bleak, a desolation of loneliness from +which she must get away. She knew now, beyond peradventure, that her +heart had brought her back to the man in spite of, rather than because +of, his environment. And secure in the knowledge of his love for her +and her love for him, she was already beginning to indulge a dream of +transplanting him permanently to kindlier surroundings, where he would +have wider scope for his natural ability and she less isolation. +</P> + +<P> +But she was beginning to know this husband of hers too well to propose +anything of the sort abruptly. Behind his tenderness and patience she +had sometimes glimpsed something inflexible, unyielding as the +wilderness he loved. So she merely answered: +</P> + +<P> +"In a way, yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's go outside where I can smoke a decent cigar on top of this +fairly decent meal," he suggested. "Then we'll figure on the next +move. I think about twenty-four hours in Hazleton will do me. There's +a steamer goes down-river to-morrow." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NEIGHBORS +</H3> + + +<P> +Four days later they stood on the deck of a grimy little steamer +breasting the outgoing tide that surged through the First Narrows. +Wooded banks on either hand spread dusky green in the hot August sun. +On their left glinted the roofs and white walls of Hollyburn, dear to +the suburban heart. Presently they swung around Brockton Point, and +Vancouver spread its peninsular clutter before them. Tugs and launches +puffed by, about their harbor traffic. A ferry clustered black with +people hurried across the inlet. But even above the harbor noises, +across the intervening distance they could hear the vibrant hum of the +industrial hive. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to it," said Bill. "Like surf on the beaches. And, like the +surf, it's full of treacherous undercurrents, a bad thing to get into +unless you can swim strong enough to keep your head above water." +</P> + +<P> +"You're a thoroughgoing pessimist," she smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he shook his head. "I merely know that it's a hard game to buck, +under normal conditions. We're of the fortunate few, that's all." +</P> + +<P> +"You're not going to spoil the pleasure that's within your reach by +pondering the misfortunes of those who are less lucky, are you?" she +inquired curiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Not much," he drawled. "Besides, that isn't my chief objection to +town. I simply can't endure the noise and confusion and the manifold +stinks, and the universal city attitude—which is to gouge the other +fellow before he gouges you. Too much like a dog fight. No, I haven't +any mission to remedy social and economic ills. I'm taking the +egotistic view that it doesn't concern me, that I'm perfectly justified +in enjoying myself in my own way, seeing that I'm in a position to do +so. We're going to take our fun as we find it. Just the same," he +finished thoughtfully, "I'd as soon be pulling into that ranch of ours +on the hurricane deck of a right good horse as approaching Vancouver's +water front. This isn't any place to spend money or to see anything. +It's a big, noisy, over-grown village, overrun with business exploiters +and real-estate sharks. It'll be a city some day. At present it's +still in the shambling stage of civic youth." +</P> + +<P> +In so far as Hazel had observed upon her former visit, this, if a +trifle sweeping, was in the main correct. So she had no regrets when +Bill confined their stay to the time necessary to turn his gold into a +bank account, and allow her to buy a trunkful, more or less, of pretty +clothes. Then they bore on eastward and halted at Ashcroft. Bill had +refused to commit himself positively to a date for the eastern +pilgrimage. He wanted to see the cabin again. For that matter she +did, too—so that their sojourn there did not carry them over another +winter. That loomed ahead like a vague threat. Those weary months in +the Klappan Range had filled her with the subtle poison of discontent, +for which she felt that new scenes and new faces would prove the only +antidote. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a wagon road to Fort George," he told her. "We could go in +there by the B. X. steamers, but I'm afraid we couldn't buy an outfit +to go on. I guess a pack outfit from the end of the stage line will be +about right." +</P> + +<P> +From Ashcroft an auto stage whirled them swiftly into the heart of the +Cariboo country—to Quesnelle, where Bill purchased four head of horses +in an afternoon, packed, saddled, and hit the trail at daylight in the +morning. +</P> + +<P> +It was very pleasant to loaf along a passable road mounted on a +light-footed horse, and Hazel enjoyed it if for no more than the +striking contrast to that terrible journey in and out of the Klappan. +Here were no heartbreaking mountains to scale. The scourge of flies +was well-nigh past. They took the road in easy stages, +well-provisioned, sleeping in a good bed at nights, camping as the +spirit moved when a likely trout stream crossed their trail, venison +and grouse all about them for variety of diet and the sport of hunting. +</P> + +<P> +So they fared through the Telegraph Range, crossed the Blackwater, and +came to Fort George by way of a ferry over the Fraser. +</P> + +<P> +"This country is getting civilized," Bill observed that evening. "They +tell me the G. T. P. has steel laid to a point three hundred miles east +of here. This bloomin' road'll be done in another year. They're +grading all along the line. I bought that hundred and sixty acres on +pure sentiment, but it looks like it may turn out a profitable business +transaction. That railroad is going to flood this country with +farmers, and settlement means a network of railroads and skyrocketing +ascension of land values." +</P> + +<P> +The vanguard of the land hungry had already penetrated to Fort George. +Up and down the Nachaco Valley, and bordering upon the Fraser, were the +cabins of the preëmptors. The roads were dotted with the teams of the +incoming. A sizable town had sprung up around the old trading post. +</P> + +<P> +"They come like bees when the rush starts," Bill remarked. +</P> + +<P> +Leaving Fort George behind, they bore across country toward Pine River. +Here and there certain landmarks, graven deep in Hazel's recollection, +uprose to claim her attention. And one evening at sunset they rode up +to the little cabin, all forlorn in its clearing. +</P> + +<P> +The grass waved to their stirrups, and the pigweed stood rank up to the +very door. +</P> + +<P> +Inside, a gray film of dust had accumulated on everything, and the +rooms were oppressive with the musty odors that gather in a closed, +untenanted house. But apart from that it stood as they had left it +thirteen months before. No foot had crossed the threshold. The pile +of wood and kindling lay beside the fireplace as Bill had placed it the +morning they left. +</P> + +<P> +"'Be it ever so humble,'" Bill left the line of the old song +unfinished, but his tone was full of jubilation. Between them they +threw wide every door and window. The cool evening wind filled the +place with sweet, pine-scented air. Then Bill started a blaze roaring +in the black-mouthed fireplace—to make it look natural, he said—and +went out to hobble his horses for the night. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning they began to unpack their household goods. Rugs and +bearskins found each its accustomed place upon the floor. His books +went back on the shelves. With magical swiftness the cabin resumed its +old-home atmosphere. And that night Bill stretched himself on the +grizzly hide before the fireplace, and kept his nose in a book until +Hazel, who was in no humor to read, fretted herself into something +approaching a temper. +</P> + +<P> +"You're about as sociable as a clam," she broke into his absorption at +last. +</P> + +<P> +He looked up in surprise, then chucked the volume carelessly aside, and +twisted himself around till his head rested in her lap. +</P> + +<P> +"Vot iss?" he asked cheerfully. "Lonesome? Bored with yourself? +Ain't I here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Your body is," she retorted. "But your spirit is communing with those +musty old philosophers." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, be good—go thou and do likewise," he returned impenitently. "I'm +tickled to death to be home. And I'm fairly book-starved. It's fierce +to be deprived of even a newspaper for twelve months. I'll be a year +getting caught up. Surely you don't feel yourself neglected because I +happen to have my nose stuck in a book?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course not!" she denied vigorously. The childish absurdity of her +attitude struck her with sudden force. "Still, I'd like you to talk to +me once in a while." +</P> + +<P> +"'Of shoes and ships and sealing wax; of cabbages and kings,'" he flung +at her mischievously. "I'll make music; that's better than mere words." +</P> + +<P> +He picked up his mandolin and tuned the strings. Like most things +which he set out to do, Bill had mastered his instrument, and could +coax out of it all the harmony of which it was capable. He seemed to +know music better than many who pass for musicians. But he broke off +in the midst of a bar. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, we could get a piano in here next spring," he said. "I just +recollected it. We'll do it." +</P> + +<P> +Now, this was something that she had many a time audibly wished for. +Yet the prospect aroused no enthusiasm. +</P> + +<P> +"That'll be nice," she said—but not as she would have said it a year +earlier. Bill's eyes narrowed a trifle, but he still smiled. And +suddenly he stepped around behind her chair, put both hands under her +chin, and tilted her head backward. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, you're plumb sick and tired to death of everything, aren't you?" +he said soberly. "You've been up here too long. You sure need a +change. I'll have to take you out and give you the freedom of the +cities, let you dissipate and pink-tea, and rub elbows with the mob for +a while. Then you'll be glad to drift back to this woodsy hiding-place +of ours. When do you want to start?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Bill!" she protested. +</P> + +<P> +But she realized in a flash that Bill could read her better than she +could read herself. Few of her emotions could remain long hidden from +that keenly observing and mercilessly logical mind. She knew that he +guessed where she stood, and by what paths she had gotten there. Trust +him to know. And it made her very tender toward him that he was so +quick to understand. Most men would have resented. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to stack a few tons of hay," he went on, disregarding her +exclamation. "I'll need it in the spring, if not this winter. Soon as +that's done we'll hit the high spots. We'll take three or four +thousand dollars, and while it lasts we'll be a couple of—of +high-class tramps. Huh? Does it sound good?" +</P> + +<P> +She nodded vigorously. +</P> + +<P> +"High-class tramps," she repeated musingly. +</P> + +<P> +"That sounds fine." +</P> + +<P> +"Perk up, then," he wheedled. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill-boy," she murmured, "you mustn't take me too seriously." +</P> + +<P> +"I took you for better or for worse," he answered, with a kiss. "I +don't want it to turn out worse. I want you to be contented and happy +here, where I've planned to make our home. I know you love me quite a +lot, little person. Nature fitted us in a good many ways to be mates. +But you've gone through a pretty drastic siege of isolation in this +rather grim country, and I guess it doesn't seem such an alluring place +as it did at first. I don't want you to nurse that feeling until it +becomes chronic. Then we would be out of tune, and it would be good-by +happiness. But I think I know the cure for your malady." +</P> + +<P> +That was his final word. He deliberately switched the conversation +into other channels. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning he began his hay cutting. About eleven o'clock he threw +down his scythe and stalked to the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Put on your hat, and let's go investigate a mystery," said he. "I +heard a cow bawl in the woods a minute ago. A regular barnyard bellow." +</P> + +<P> +"A cow bawling?" she echoed. "Sure? What would cattle be doing away +up here?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's what I want to know?" Bill laughed. "I've never seen a cow +north of the Frazer—not this side of the Rockies, anyway." +</P> + +<P> +They saddled their horses, and rode out in the direction from whence +had arisen the bovine complaint. The sound was not repeated, and Hazel +had begun to chaff Bill about a too-vivid imagination when within a +half mile of the clearing he pulled his horse up short in the middle of +a little meadow. +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" +</P> + +<P> +The track of a broad-tired wagon had freshly crushed the thick grass. +Bill squinted at the trail, then his gaze swept the timber beyond. +</P> + +<P> +"Well!" +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Bill?" Hazel asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Somebody has been cutting timber over there," he enlightened. "I can +see the fresh ax work. Looks like they'd been hauling poles. Let's +follow this track a ways." +</P> + +<P> +The tiny meadow was fringed on the north by a grove of poplars. Beyond +that lay another clear space of level land, perhaps forty acres in +extent. They broke through the belt of poplars—and pulled up again. +</P> + +<P> +On one side of the meadow stood a cabin, the fresh-peeled log walls +glaring yellow in the sun, and lifting an earth-covered roof to the +autumn sky. Bill whistled softly. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll be hanged," he uttered, "if there isn't the cow!" +</P> + +<P> +Along the west side of the meadow ran a brown streak of sod, and down +one side of this a man guided the handles of a plow drawn by the +strangest yokemates Hazel's eyes had seen for many a day. +</P> + +<P> +"For goodness' sake!" she exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the true pioneer spirit for you," Bill spoke absently. "He has +bucked his way into the heart of a virgin country, and he's breaking +sod with a mule and a cow. That's adaptation to environment with a +vengeance—and grit." +</P> + +<P> +"There's a woman, too, Bill. And see—she's carrying a baby!" Hazel +pointed excitedly. "Oh, Bill!" +</P> + +<P> +"Let's go over." He stirred up his horse. "What did I tell you about +folk that hanker for lots of elbow-room? They're coming." +</P> + +<P> +The man halted his strangely assorted team to watch them come. The +woman stood a step outside the door, a baby in her arms, another +toddler holding fast to her skirt. A thick-bodied, short, +square-shouldered man was this newcomer, with a round, pleasant face. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, neighbor!" Bill greeted. +</P> + +<P> +The plowman lifted his old felt hat courteously. His face lit up. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Ach</I>!" said he. "Neighbor. Dot iss a goot vord in diss country vere +dere iss no neighbor. But I am glat to meet you. Vill you come do der +house und rest a v'ile?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure!" Bill responded. "But we're neighbors, all right. Did you +notice a cabin about half a mile west of here? That's our place—when +we're at home." +</P> + +<P> +"So?" The word escaped with the peculiar rising inflection of the +Teuton. "I haf saw dot cabin veil ve come here. But I dink it vass +abandon. Und I pick dis place mitout hope off a neighbor. Id iss goot +lant. Veil, let us to der house go. Id vill rest der mule—und +Gretchen, der cow. Hah!" +</P> + +<P> +He rolled a blue eye on his incongruous team, and grinned widely. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," he invited; "mine vife vill be glat." +</P> + +<P> +They found her a matron of thirty-odd; fresh-cheeked, round-faced like +her husband, typically German, without his accent of the Fatherland. +Hazel at once appropriated the baby. It lay peacefully in her arms, +staring wide-eyed, making soft, gurgly sounds. +</P> + +<P> +"The little dear!" Hazel murmured. +</P> + +<P> +"Lauer, our name iss," the man said casually, when they were seated. +</P> + +<P> +"Wagstaff, mine is," Bill completed the informal introduction. +</P> + +<P> +"So?" Lauer responded. "Id hass a German sount, dot name, yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Four or five generations back," Bill answered. "I guess I'm as +American as they make 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"I am from Bavaria," Lauer told him. "Vill you shmoke? I light mine +bibe—mit your vife's permission." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he continued, stuffing the bowl of his pipe with a stubby +forefinger, "I am from Bavaria. Dere I vass upon a farm brought oop. +I serf in der army my dime. Den Ameriga. Dere I marry my vife, who is +born in Milvaukee. I vork in der big brreweries. Afder dot I learn to +be a carpenter. Now I am a kink, mit a castle all mine own, I am no +more a vage slafe." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed at his own conceit, a great, roaring bellow that filled the +room. +</P> + +<P> +"You're on the right track," Bill nodded. "It's a pity more people +don't take the same notion. What do you think of this country, anyway?" +</P> + +<P> +"It iss goot," Lauer answered briefly, and with unhesitating certainty. +"It iss goot. Vor der boor man it iss—it iss salfation. Mit fife +huntret tollars und hiss two hants he can himself a home make—und a +lifing be sure off." +</P> + +<P> +Beside Hazel Lauer's wife absently caressed the blond head of her +four-year-old daughter. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I don't think I'll ever get lonesome," she said. "I'm too glad to +be here. And I've got lots of work and my babies. Of course, it's +natural I'd miss a woman friend running in now and then to chat. But a +person can't have it all. And I'd do anything to have a roof of our +own, and to have it some place where our livin' don't depend on a pay +envelope. Oh, a city's dreadful, I think, when your next meal almost +depends on your man holdin' his job. I've lived in town ever since I +was fifteen. I lost three babies in Milwaukee—hot weather, bad air, +bad milk, bad everything, unless you have plenty of money. Many a time +I've sat and cried, just from thinkin' how bad I wanted a little place +of our own, where there was grass and trees and a piece of ground for a +garden. And I knew we'd never be able to buy it. We couldn't get +ahead enough." +</P> + +<P> +"Und so," her husband took up the tale, "I hear off diss country, vere +lant can be for noddings got. Und so we scrape und pinch und safe +nickels und dimes for fife year. Und here ve are. All der vay from +Visconsin in der vaigon, yes. Mit two mules. In Ashcroft I buy der +cow, so dot ve haf der fresh milk. Und dot iss lucky. For von mule +iss die on der road. So I am plow oop der lant und haul my vaigon mit +von mule und Gretchen, der cow." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel had a momentary vision of unrelated hardships by the way, and she +wondered how the man could laugh and his wife smile over it. She knew +the stifling heat of narrow streets in mid-summer, and the hungry +longing for cool, green shade. She had seen something of a city's +poverty. But she knew also the privations of the trail. Two thousand +miles in a wagon! And at the journey's end only a rude cabin of +logs—and years of steady toil. Isolation in a huge and lonely land. +Yet these folk were happy. She wondered briefly if her own viewpoint +were possibly askew. She knew that she could not face such a prospect +except in utter rebellion. Not now. The bleak peaks of the Klappan +rose up before her mind's eye, the picture of five horses dead in the +snow, the wolves that snapped and snarled over their bones. She +shuddered. She was still pondering this when she and Bill dismounted +at home. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DOLLAR CHASERS +</H3> + + +<P> +Granville took them to its bosom with a haste and earnestness that made +Hazel catch her breath. The Marshes took possession of them upon their +arrival, and they were no more than domiciled under the Marsh roof than +all her old friends flocked to call. Tactfully none so much as +mentioned Andrew Bush, nor the five-thousand-dollar legacy—the +disposition of which sum still perplexed that defunct gentleman's +worthy executors. And once more in a genial atmosphere Hazel concluded +to let sleeping dogs lie. Many a time in the past two years she had +looked forward to cutting them all as dead as they had cut her during +that unfortunate period. But once among them, and finding them +willing, nay, anxious, to forget that they had ever harbored unjust +thoughts of her, she took their proffered friendship at its face value. +It was quite gratifying to know that many of them envied her. She +learned from various sources that Bill's fortune loomed big, had grown +by some mysterious process of Granville tattle, until it had reached +the charmed six figures of convention. +</P> + +<P> +That in itself was sufficient to establish their prestige. In a +society that lived by and for the dollar, and measured most things with +its dollar yardstick, that murmured item opened—indeed, forced +open—many doors to herself and her husband which would otherwise have +remained rigid on their fastenings. It was pleasant to be sought out +and made much of, and it pleased her to think that some of her quondam +friends were genuinely sorry that they had once stood aloof. They +attempted to atone, it would seem. For three weeks they lived in an +atmosphere of teas and dinners and theater parties, a giddy little +whirl that grew daily more attractive, so far as Hazel was concerned. +</P> + +<P> +There had been changes. Jack Barrow had consoled himself with a bride. +Moreover, he was making good, in the popular phrase, at the real-estate +game. The Marshes, as she had previously known them, had been +tottering on the edge of shabby gentility. But they had come into +money. And as Bill slangily put it, they were using their pile to cut +a lot of social ice. Kitty Brooks' husband was now the head of the +biggest advertising agency in Granville. Hazel was glad of that mild +success. Kitty Brooks was the one person for whom she had always kept +a warm corner in her heart. Kitty had stood stoutly and unequivocally +by her when all the others had viewed her with a dubious eye. Aside +from these there were scores of young people who revolved in their same +old orbits. Two years will upon occasion make profound changes in some +lives, and leave others untouched. But change or no change, she found +herself caught up and carried along on a pleasant tide. +</P> + +<P> +She was inordinately proud of Bill, when she compared him with the +average Granville male—yet she found herself wishing he would adopt a +little more readily the Granville viewpoint. He fell short of it, or +went beyond it, she could not be sure which; she had an uneasy feeling +sometimes that he looked upon Granville doings and Granville folk with +amused tolerance, not unmixed with contempt. But he attracted +attention. Whenever he was minded to talk he found ready listeners. +And he did not seem to mind being dragged to various functions, +matinées, and the like. He fell naturally into that mode of existence, +no matter that it was in profound contrast to his previous manner of +life, as she knew it. She felt a huge satisfaction in that. Anything +but a well-bred man would have repelled her, and she had recognized +that quality in Bill Wagstaff even when he had carried her bodily into +the wilderness against her explicit desire that memorable time. And he +was now exhibiting an unsuspected polish. She used to wonder amusedly +if he were possibly the same Roaring Bill whom she had with her eyes +seen hammer a man insensible with his fists, who had kept "tough" +frontiersmen warily side-stepping him in Cariboo Meadows. Certainly he +was a many-sided individual. +</P> + +<P> +Once or twice she conjured up a vision of his getting into some +business there, and utterly foregoing the North—which for her was +already beginning to take on the aspect of a bleak and cheerless region +where there was none of the things which daily whetted her appetite for +luxury, nothing but hardships innumerable—and gold. The gold had been +their reward—a reward well earned, she thought. Still—they had been +wonderfully happy there at the Pine River cabin, she remembered. +</P> + +<P> +They came home from a theater party late one night. Bill sat down by +their bedroom window, and stared out at the street lights, twin rows of +yellow beads stretching away to a vanishing point in the pitch-black of +a cloudy night. Hazel kicked off her slippers, and gratefully toasted +her silk-stockinged feet at a small coal grate. Fall had come, and +there was a sharp nip to the air. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what do you think of it as far as you've gone?" he asked +abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +"Of what?" she asked, jarred out of meditation upon the play they had +just witnessed. +</P> + +<P> +"All this." He waved a hand comprehensively. "This giddy swim we've +got into." +</P> + +<P> +"I think it's fine," she candidly admitted. "I'm enjoying myself. I +like it. Don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"As a diversion," he observed thoughtfully, "I don't mind it. These +people are all very affable and pleasant, and they've rather gone out +of their way to entertain us. But, after all, what the dickens does it +amount to? They spend their whole life running in useless circles. I +should think they'd get sick of it. You will." +</P> + +<P> +"Hardly, Billum," she smiled. "We're merely making up for two years of +isolation. I think we must be remarkable people that we didn't fight +like cats and dogs. For eighteen months, you know, there wasn't a soul +to talk to, and not much to think about except what you could do if you +were some place else." +</P> + +<P> +"You're acquiring the atmosphere," he remarked—sardonically, she +thought. +</P> + +<P> +"No; just enjoying myself," she replied lightly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if you really are," he answered slowly, "we may as well settle +here for the winter—and get settled right away. I'm rather weary of +being a guest in another man's house, to tell you the truth." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I'd love to stay here all winter," she said. "But I thought you +intended to knock around more or less." +</P> + +<P> +"But don't you see, you don't particularly care to," he pointed out; +"and it would spoil the fun of going any place for me if you were not +interested. And when it comes to a show-down I'm not aching to be a +bird of passage. One city is pretty much like another to me. You seem +to have acquired a fairly select circle of friends and acquaintances, +and you may as well have your fling right here. We'll take a run over +to New York. I want to get some books and things. Then we'll come +back here and get a house or a flat. I tell you right now," he laughed +not unpleasantly, "I'm going to renig on this society game. You can +play it as hard as you like, until spring. I'll be there with bells on +when it comes to a dance. And I'll go to a show—when a good play +comes along. But I won't mix up with a lot of silly women and equally +silly she-men, any more than is absolutely necessary." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Bill!" she exclaimed, aghast. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, ain't it so?" he defended lazily. "There's Kitty Brooks—she +has certainly got intelligence above the average. That Lorimer girl +has brains superimposed on her artistic temperament, and she uses 'em +to advantage. Practically all the rest that I've met are intellectual +nonentities—strong on looks and clothes and amusing themselves, and +that lets them out. And they have no excuse, because they've had +unlimited advantages. The men divide themselves into two types. One +that chases the dollar, talks business, thinks business, knows nothing +outside of business, and their own special line of business at that; +the other type, like these Arthur fellows, and Dave Allan and T. +Fordham Brown, who go in for afternoon teas and such gentlemanly +pastimes, and whose most strenuous exercise is a game of billiards. +Shucks, there isn't a real man in the lot. Maybe I'll run across some +people who don't take a two-by-four view of life if I stay around here +long enough, but it hasn't happened to me yet. I hope I'm not an +intellectual snob, little person, any more than I'm puffed up over +happening to be a little bigger and stronger than the average man, but +I must say that the habitual conversation of these people gives me a +pain. That platitudinous discussion of the play to-night, for +instance." +</P> + +<P> +"That <I>was</I> droll." Hazel chuckled at the recollection, and she +recalled the weary look that had once or twice flitted over Bill's face +during that after-theater supper. +</P> + +<P> +But she herself could see only the humor of it. She was fascinated by +the social niceties and the surroundings of the set she had drifted +into. The little dinners, the impromptu teas, the light chatter and +general atmosphere of luxury more than counterbalanced any other lack. +She wanted only to play, and she was prepared to seize avidly on any +form of pleasure, no matter if in last analysis it were utterly +frivolous. She could smile at the mental vacuity she encountered, and +think nothing of it, if with that vacuity went those material factors +which made for ease and entertainment. The physical side of her was +all alert. Luxury and the mild excitements of a social life that took +nothing seriously, those were the things she craved. For a long time +she had been totally deprived of them. Nor had such unlimited +opportunities ever before been in her grasp. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that was droll," she repeated. +</P> + +<P> +Bill snorted. +</P> + +<P> +"Droll? Perhaps," he said. "Blatant ignorance, coupled with a desire +to appear the possessor of culture, is sometimes amusing. But as a +general thing it simply irritates." +</P> + +<P> +"You're hard to please," she replied. "Can't you enjoy yourself, take +things as they come, without being so critical?" +</P> + +<P> +He shrugged his shoulders, and remained silent. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said presently, "we'll take that jaunt to New York day after +to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +He was still sitting by the window when Hazel was ready to go to bed. +She came back into the room in a trailing silk kimono, and, stealing +softly up behind him, put both hands on his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you thinking so hard about, Billy-boy?" she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking about Jake Lauer, and wondering how he was making it +go," Bill answered. "I was also picturing to myself how some of these +worthy citizens would mess things up if they had to follow in his +steps. Hang it, I don't know but we'd be better off if we were pegging +away for a foothold somewhere, like old Jake." +</P> + +<P> +"If we had to do that," she argued, "I suppose we would, and manage to +get along. But since we don't have to, why wish for it? Money makes +things pleasanter." +</P> + +<P> +"If money meant that we would be compelled to lead the sort of +existence most of these people do," he retorted, "I'd take measures to +be broke as soon as possible. What the deuce is there to it? The +women get up in the morning, spend the forenoon fixing themselves up to +take in some innocuous gabblefest after luncheon. Then they get into +their war paint for dinner, and after dinner rush madly off to some +other festive stunt. Swell rags and a giddy round. If it were just +fun, it would be all right. But it's the serious business of life with +them. And the men are in the same boat. All of 'em collectively don't +amount to a pinch of snuff. This thing that they call business is +mostly gambling with what somebody else has sweated to produce. +They're a soft-handed, soft-bodied lot of incompetent egotists, if you +ask me. Any of 'em would lick your boots in a genteel sort of way if +there was money in it; and they'd just as cheerfully chisel their best +friend out of his last dollar, if it could be done in a business way. +They haven't even the saving grace of physical hardihood." +</P> + +<P> +"You're awful!" Hazel commented. +</P> + +<P> +Bill snorted again. +</P> + +<P> +"To-morrow, you advise our hostess that we're traveling," he +instructed. "When we come back we'll make headquarters at a hotel +until we locate a place of our own—if you are sure you want to winter +here." +</P> + +<P> +Her mind was quite made up to spend the winter there, and she frankly +said so—provided he had no other choice. They had to winter +somewhere. They had set out to spend a few months in pleasant +idleness. They could well afford that. And, unless he had other plans +definitely formed, was not Granville as good as any place? Was it not +better, seeing that they did know some one there? It was big enough to +afford practically all the advantages of any city. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, I suppose so. All right; we'll winter here," Bill +acquiesced. "That's settled." +</P> + +<P> +And, as was his habit when he had come to a similar conclusion, he +refused to talk further on that subject, but fell to speculating idly +on New York. In which he was presently aided and abetted by Hazel, who +had never invaded Manhattan, nor, for that matter, any of the big +Atlantic cities. She had grown up in Granville, with but brief +journeys to near-by points. And Granville could scarcely be classed as +a metropolis. It numbered a trifle over three hundred thousand souls. +Bill had termed it "provincial." But it meant more to her than any +other place in the East, by virtue of old associations and more recent +acquaintance. One must have a pivotal point of such a sort, just as +one cannot forego the possession of a nationality. +</P> + +<P> +New York, she was constrained to admit, rather overwhelmed her. She +traversed Broadway and other world-known arteries, and felt a trifle +dubious amid the unceasing crush. Bill piloted her to famous cafés, +and to equally famous theaters. She made sundry purchases in +magnificent shops. The huge conglomeration of sights and sounds made +an unforgettable impression upon her. She sensed keenly the colossal +magnitude of it all. But she felt a distinct wave of relief when they +were Granville bound once more. +</P> + +<P> +In a week they were settled comfortably in a domicile of their +own—five rooms in an up-to-date apartment house. And since the social +demands on Mrs. William Wagstaff's time grew apace, a capable maid and +a cook were added to the Wagstaff establishment. Thus she was relieved +of the onus of housework. Her time was wholly her own, at her own +disposal or Bill's, as she elected. +</P> + +<P> +But by imperceptible degrees they came to take diverse roads in the +swirl of life which had caught them up. There were so many little +woman affairs where a man was superfluous. There were others which +Bill flatly refused to attend. "Hen parties," he dubbed them. More +and more he remained at home with his books. Invariably he read +through the daytime, and unless to take Hazel for a walk or a drive, or +some simple pleasure which they could indulge in by themselves, he +would not budge. If it were night, and a dance was to the fore, he +would dress and go gladly. At such, and upon certain occasions when a +certain little group would take supper at some café, he was apparently +in his element. But there was always a back fire if Hazel managed to +persuade him to attend anything in the nature of a formal affair. He +drew the line at what he defined as social tommyrot, and he drew it +more and more sharply. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes Hazel caught herself wondering if they were getting as much +out of the holiday as they should have gotten, as they had planned to +get when they were struggling through that interminable winter. <I>She</I> +was. But not Bill. And while she wished that he could get the same +satisfaction out of his surroundings and opportunities as she conceived +herself to be getting, she often grew impatient with his sardonic, +tolerant contempt toward the particular set she mostly consorted with. +If she ventured to give a tea, he fled the house as if from the plague. +He made acquaintances of his own, men from God only knew where, +individuals who occasionally filled the dainty apartment with +malodorous tobacco fumes, and who would cheerfully sit up all night +discoursing earnestly on any subject under the sun. But so long as +Bill found Granville habitable she did not mind. +</P> + +<P> +Above all, as the winter and the winter gayety set in together with +equal vigor, she thought with greater reluctance of the ultimate return +to that hushed, deep-forested area that surrounded the cabin. +</P> + +<P> +She wished fervently that Bill would take up some business that would +keep him in touch with civilization. He had the capital, she +considered, and there was no question of his ability. Her faith in his +power to encompass whatever he set about was strong. Other men, less +gifted, had acquired wealth, power, even a measure of fame, from a less +auspicious beginning. Why not he? +</P> + +<P> +It seemed absurd to bury one's self in an uninhabited waste, when life +held forth so much to be grasped. Her friends told her so—thus +confirming her own judgment. But she could never quite bring herself +to put it in so many words to Bill. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A BUSINESS PROPOSITION +</H3> + + +<P> +The cycle of weeks brought them to January. They had dropped into +something of a routine in their daily lives. Bill's interest and +participation in social affairs became negligible. Of Hazel's circle +he classed some half dozen people as desirable acquaintances, and saw +more or less of them—Kitty Brooks and her husband; Vesta Lorimer, a +keen-witted young woman upon whom nature had bestowed a double portion +of physical attractiveness and a talent akin to genius for the painting +of miniatures; her Brother Paul, who was the silent partner in a +brokerage firm; Doctor Hart, a silent, grim-visaged physician, whose +vivacious wife was one of Hazel's new intimates. Of that group Bill +was always a willing member. The others he met courteously when he was +compelled to meet them; otherwise he passed them up entirely. +</P> + +<P> +When he was not absorbed in a book or magazine, he spent his time in +some downtown haunt, having acquired membership in a club as a +concession to their manner of life. Once he came home with flushed +face and overbright eyes, radiating an odor of whisky. Hazel had never +seen him drink to excess. She was correspondingly shocked, and took no +pains to hide her feelings. But Bill was blandly undisturbed. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't need to look so horrified," he drawled. "I won't beat you +up nor wreck the furniture. Inadvertently took a few too many, that's +all. Nothing else to do, anyhow. Your friend Brooks' Carlton Club is +as barren a place as one of your tea fights. They don't do anything +much but sit around and drink Scotch and soda, and talk about the +market. I'm drunk, and glad of it. If I were in Cariboo Meadows, +now," he confided owlishly, "I'd have some fun with the natives. You +can't turn yourself loose here. It's too blame civilized and proper. +I had half a notion to lick a Johnnie or two, just for sport, and then +I thought probably they'd have me up for assault and battery. Just +recollected our social reputation—long may she wave—in time." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Your</I> reputation certainly won't be unblemished if any one saw you +come in in that condition," she cried, in angry mortification. "Surely +you could find something better to do than to get drunk." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going straight to bed, little person," he returned. "Scold not, +nor fret. William will be himself again ere yet the morrow's sun shall +clear the horizon. Let us avoid recrimination. The tongue is, or +would seem to be, the most vital weapon of modern society. Therefore +let us leave the trenchant blade quiescent in its scabbard. <I>I'd</I> +rather settle a dispute with my fists, or even a gun. Good night." +</P> + +<P> +He made his unsteady way to their extra bedroom, and he was still there +with the door locked when Hazel returned from a card party at the +Krones'. It was the first night they had spent apart since their +marriage, and Hazel was inclined to be huffed when he looked in before +breakfast, dressed, shaved, and smiling, as if he had never had even a +bowing acquaintance with John Barleycorn. But Bill refused to take her +indignation seriously, and it died for lack of fuel. +</P> + +<P> +A week or so later he became suddenly and unexpectedly active. He left +the house as soon as his breakfast was eaten, and he did not come home +to luncheon—a circumstance which irritated Hazel, since it was one of +those rare days when she herself lunched at home. Late in the +afternoon he telephoned briefly that he would dine downtown. And when +he did return, at nine or thereabouts in the evening, he clamped a +cigar between his teeth, and fell to work covering a sheet of paper +with interminable rows of figures. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel had worried over the possibility of his having had another tilt +with the Scotch and sodas. He relieved her of that fear, and she +restrained her curiosity until boredom seized her. The silence and the +scratching of his pen began to grate on her nerves. +</P> + +<P> +"What is all the clerical work about?" she inquired. "Reckoning your +assets and liabilities?" +</P> + +<P> +Bill smiled and pushed aside the paper. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to promote a mining company," he told her, quite casually. +"It has been put up to me as a business proposition—and I've got to +the stage where I have to do <I>something</I>, or I'll sure have the +Willies." +</P> + +<P> +She overlooked the latter statement; it conveyed no special +significance at the time. But his first statement opened up +possibilities such as of late she had sincerely hoped would come to +pass, and she was all interest. +</P> + +<P> +"Promote a mining company?" she repeated. "That sounds extremely +businesslike. How—when—where?" +</P> + +<P> +"Now—here in Granville," he replied. "The how is largely Paul +Lorimer's idea. You see," he continued, warming up a bit to the +subject, "when I was prospecting that creek where we made the clean-up +last summer, I ran across a well-defined quartz lead. I packed out a +few samples in my pockets, and I happened to show them as well as one +or two of the nuggets to some of these fellows at the club a while +back. Lorimer took a piece of the quartz and had it assayed. It looms +up as something pretty big. So he and Brooks and a couple of other +fellows want me to go ahead and organize and locate a group of claims +in there. Twenty or thirty thousand dollars capital might make 'em all +rich. Of course, the placer end of it will be the big thing while the +lode is being developed. It should pay well from the start. Getting +the start is easy. As a matter of fact, you could sell any old wildcat +that has the magic of gold about it. Men seem to get the fever as soon +as they finger the real yellow stuff. These fellows I've talked to are +dead anxious to get in." +</P> + +<P> +"But"—her knowledge of business methods suggested a difficulty—"you +can't sell stock in a business that has no real foundation—yet. Don't +you have to locate those claims first?" +</P> + +<P> +"Wise old head; you have the idea, all right." He smiled. "But this +is not a stock-jobbing proposition. I wouldn't be in on it if it were, +believe me. It's to be a corporation, where not to exceed six men will +own all the stock that's issued. And so far as the claims are +concerned, I've got Whitey Lewis located in Fort George, and I've been +burning the wires and spending a bundle of real money getting him +grub-staked. He has got four men besides himself all ready to hit the +trail as soon as I give the word." +</P> + +<P> +"You won't have to go?" she put in quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he murmured. "It isn't necessary, at this particular stage of +the game. But I wouldn't mind popping a whip over a good string of +dogs, just the same." +</P> + +<P> +"B-r-r-r!" she shivered involuntarily. "Four hundred miles across that +deep snow, through that steady, flesh-searing cold. I don't envy them +the journey." +</P> + +<P> +Bill relapsed into unsmiling silence, sprawling listless in his chair, +staring absently at the rug, as if he had lost all interest in the +matter. +</P> + +<P> +"If you stay here and manage this end of it," she pursued lightly, "I +suppose you'll have an office downtown." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose so," he returned laconically. +</P> + +<P> +She came over and stood by him, playfully rumpling his brown hair with +her fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm glad you've found something to loose that pent-up energy of yours +on, Billy-boy," she said. "You'll make a success of it, I know. I +don't see why you shouldn't make a success of any kind of business. +But I didn't think you'd ever tackle business. You have such peculiar +views about business and business practice." +</P> + +<P> +"I despise the ordinary business ethic," he returned sharply. "It's a +get-something-for-nothing proposition all the way through; it is based +on exploiting the other fellow in one form or another. I refuse to +exploit my fellows along the accepted lines—or any lines. I don't +have to; there are too many other ways of making a living open to me. +I don't care to live fat and make some one else foot the bill. But I +can exploit the resources of nature. And that is my plan. If we make +money it won't be filched by a complex process from the other fellow's +pockets; it won't be wealth created by shearing lambs in the market, by +sweatshop labor, or adulterated food, or exorbitant rental of filthy +tenements. And I have no illusions about the men I'm dealing with. If +they undertake to make a get-rich-quick scheme of it I'll knock the +whole business in the head. I'm not overly anxious to get into it with +them. But it promises action of some sort—and I have to do something +till spring." +</P> + +<P> +In the spring! That brief phrase set Hazel to sober thinking. With +April or May Bill would spread his wings for the North. There would be +no more staying him than the flight of the wild goose to the reedy +nesting grounds could be stayed. Well, a summer in the North would not +be so bad, she reflected. But she hated to think of the isolation. It +grieved her to contemplate exchanging her beautifully furnished +apartment for a log cabin in the woods. There would be a dreary +relapse into monotony after months of association with clever people, +the swift succession of brilliant little functions. It all delighted +her; she responded to her present surroundings as naturally as a grain +of wheat responds to the germinating influences of warmth and moisture. +It did not occur to her that saving Bill Wagstaff's advent into her +life she might have been denied all this. Indeed she felt a trifle +resentful that he should prefer the forested solitudes to the pleasant +social byways of Granville. +</P> + +<P> +Still she had hopes. If he plunged into business associations with +Jimmie Brooks and Paul Lorimer and others of that group, there was no +telling what might happen. His interests might become permanently +identified with Granville. She loved her big, wide-shouldered man, +anyway. So she continued to playfully rumple his hair and kept her +thoughts to herself. +</P> + +<P> +Bill informed her from time to time as to the progress of his venture. +Brooks and Lorimer put him in touch with two others who were ready to +chance money on the strength of Bill's statements. The company was +duly incorporated, with an authorized capital of one hundred thousand +dollars, five thousand dollars' worth of stock being taken out by each +on a cash basis—the remaining seventy-five thousand lying in the +company treasury, to be held or sold for development purposes as the +five saw fit when work began to show what the claims were capable of +producing. +</P> + +<P> +Whitey Lewis set out. Bill stuck a map on their living-room wall and +pointed off each day's journey with a pin. Hazel sometimes studied the +map, and pitied them. So many miles daily in a dreary waste of snow; +nights when the frost thrust its keen-pointed lances into their tired +bodies; food cooked with numbed fingers; the dismal howling of wolves; +white frost and clinging icicles upon their beards as they trudged +across trackless areas; and over all that awesome hush which she had +learned to dread—breathless, brooding silence. Gold madness or trail +madness, or simply adventurous unrest? She could not say. She knew +only that a certain type of man found pleasure in such mad +undertakings, bucked hard trails and plunged headlong into vast +solitudes, and permitted no hardship nor danger to turn him back. +</P> + +<P> +Bill was tinged with that madness for unbeaten trails. But surely when +a man mated, and had a home and all that makes home desirable, he +should forsake the old ways? Once when she found him studying the map, +traversing a route with his forefinger and muttering to himself, she +had a quick catch at her heart—as if hers were already poised to go. +And she could not follow him. Once she had thought to do that, and +gloried in the prospect. But his trail, his wilderness trail, and his +trail gait, were not for any woman to follow. It was too big a job for +any woman. And she could not let him go alone. He might never come +back. +</P> + +<P> +Not so long since she and Kitty Brooks had been discussing a certain +couple who had separated. Vesta Lorimer sat by, listening. +</P> + +<P> +"How could they help but fail in mutual flight?" the Lorimer girl had +demanded. "An eagle mated to a domestic fowl!" +</P> + +<P> +And, watching Bill stare at the map, his body there but the soul of him +tramping the wild woods, she recalled Vesta Lorimer's characterization +of that other pair. Surely this man of hers was of the eagle brood. +But there, in her mind, the simile ended. +</P> + +<P> +In early March came a telegram from Whitey Lewis saying that he had +staked the claims, both placer and lode; that he was bound out by the +Telegraph Trail to file at Hazleton. Bill showed her the +message—wired from Station Six. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I could have been in on it—that was some trip," he said—and +there was a trace of discontent in his tone. "I don't fancy somebody +else pawing my chestnuts out of the coals for me. It was sure a man's +job to cross the Klappan in the dead of winter." +</P> + +<P> +The filing completed, there was ample work in the way of getting out +and whipsawing timber to keep the five men busy till spring—the five +who were on the ground. Lewis sent word that thirty feet of snow lay +in the gold-bearing branch. And that was the last they heard from him. +He was a performer, Bill said, not a correspondent. +</P> + +<P> +So in Granville the affairs of the Free Gold Mining Company remained at +a standstill until the spring floods should peel off the winter blanket +of the North. Hazel was fully occupied, and Bill dwelt largely with +his books, or sketched and figured on operations at the claims. Their +domestic affairs moved with the smoothness of a perfectly balanced +machine. To the very uttermost Hazel enjoyed the well-appointed +orderliness of it all, the unruffled placidity of an existence where +the unexpected, the disagreeable, the uncouth, was wholly eliminated, +where all the strange shifts and struggles of her two years beyond the +Rockies were altogether absent and impossible. Bill's views he kept +largely to himself. And Hazel began to nurse the idea that he was +looking upon civilization with a kindlier eye. +</P> + +<P> +Ultimately, spring overspread the eastern provinces. And when the +snows of winter successively gave way to muddy streets and then to +clean pavements in the city of Granville, a new gilt sign was lettered +across the windows of the brokerage office in which Paul Lorimer was +housed. +</P> + +<BR> + +<CENTER> +<P CLASS="noindent"> +FREE GOLD MINING COMPANY +<BR><BR> +P. H. Lorimer, Pres. J. L. Brooks, Sec.-Treas. +<BR> +William Wagstaff, Manager. +</P> +</CENTER> + +<BR> + +<P> +So it ran. Bill was commissioned in the army of business at last. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A BUSINESS JOURNEY +</H3> + + +<P> +"I have to go to the Klappan," Bill apprised his wife one evening. +"Want to come along?" +</P> + +<P> +Hazel hesitated. Her first instinctive feeling was one of reluctance +to retrace that nerve-trying trail. But neither did she wish to be +separated from him. +</P> + +<P> +"I see you don't," he observed dryly. "Well, I can't say that I blame +you. It's a stiff trip. If your wind and muscle are in as poor shape +as mine, I guess it would do you up—the effort would be greater than +any possible pleasure." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry I can't feel any enthusiasm for such a journey," she +remarked candidly. "I could go as far as the coast with you, and meet +you there when you come out. How long do you expect to be in there?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know exactly," he replied. "I'm not going in from the coast, +though. I'm taking the Ashcroft-Fort George Trail. I have to take in +a pack train and more men and get work started on a decent scale." +</P> + +<P> +"But you won't have to stay there all summer and oversee the work, will +you?" she inquired anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"I should," he said. +</P> + +<P> +For a second or two he drummed on the table top. +</P> + +<P> +"I should do that. It's what I had in mind when I started this thing," +he said wistfully. "I thought we'd go in this spring and rush things +through the good weather, and come out ahead of the snow. We could +stay a while at the ranch, and break up the winter with a jaunt here or +some place." +</P> + +<P> +"But is there any real necessity for you to stay on the ground?" She +pursued her own line of thought. "I should think an undertaking of +this size would justify hiring an expert to take charge of the actual +mining operations. Won't you have this end of it to look after?" +</P> + +<P> +"Lorimer and Brooks are eminently capable of upholding the dignity and +importance of that sign they've got smeared across the windows +downtown," he observed curtly. "The chief labor of the office they've +set up will be to divide the proceeds. The work will be done and the +money made in the Klappan Range. You sabe that, don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not stupid," she pouted. +</P> + +<P> +"I know you're not, little person," he said quietly. "But you've +changed a heap in the last few months. You don't seem to be my pal any +more. You've fallen in love with this butterfly life. You appear to +like me just as much as ever, but if you could you'd sentence me to +this kid-glove existence for the rest of my natural life. Great +Caesar's ghost!" he burst out. "I've laid around like a well-fed +poodle for seven months. And look at me—I'm mush! Ten miles with a +sixty-pound pack would make my tongue hang out. I'm thick-winded, and +twenty pounds over-weight—and you talk calmly about my settling down +to office work!" +</P> + +<P> +His semi-indignation, curiously enough, affected Hazel as being +altogether humorous. She had a smile-compelling vision of that +straight, lean-limbed, powerful body developing a protuberant waistline +and a double chin. That was really funny, so far-fetched did it seem. +And she laughed. Bill froze into rigid silence. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to-morrow," he said suddenly. "I think, on the whole, it'll +be just as well if you don't go. Stay here and enjoy yourself. I'll +transfer some more money to your account. I think I'll drop down to +the club." +</P> + +<P> +She followed him out into the hall, and, as he wriggled into his coat, +she had an impulse to throw her arms around his neck and declare, in +all sincerity, that she would go to the Klappan or to the north pole or +any place on earth with him, if he wanted her. But by some peculiar +feminine reasoning she reflected in the same instant that if Bill were +away from her in a few weeks he would be all the more glad to get back. +That closed her mouth. She felt too secure in his affection to believe +it could be otherwise. And then she would cheerfully capitulate and go +back with him to his beloved North, to the Klappan or the ranch or +wherever he chose. It was not wise to be too meek or obedient where a +husband was concerned. That was another mite of wisdom she had +garnered from the wives of her circle. +</P> + +<P> +So she kissed Bill good-by at the station next day with perfect good +humor and no parting emotion of any particular keenness. And if he +were a trifle sober he showed no sign of resentment, nor uttered any +futile wishes that she could accompany him. +</P> + +<P> +"So long," he said from the car steps. "I'll keep in touch—all I can." +</P> + +<P> +Then he was gone. +</P> + +<P> +Somehow, his absence made less difference than Hazel had anticipated. +She had secretly expected to be very lonely at first. And she was not. +She began to realize that, unconsciously, they had of late so arranged +their manner of life that separation was a question of degree rather +than kind. It seemed that she could never quite forego the impression +that Bill was near at hand. She always thought of him as downtown or +in the living-room, with his feet up on the mantel and a cigar in his +mouth. Even when in her hand she held a telegram dated at a point five +hundred or a thousand miles or double that distance away she did not +experience the feeling of complete bodily absence. She always felt as +if he were near. Only at night, when there was no long arm to pillow +her head, no good-night kiss as she dozed into slumber, she missed him, +realized that he was far away. Even when the days marched past, +mustering themselves in weekly and monthly platoons and Bill still +remained in the Klappan, she experienced no dreary leadenness of soul. +Her time passed pleasantly enough. +</P> + +<P> +Early in June came a brief wire from Station Six. Three weeks later +the Free Gold Mining Company set up a mild ripple of excitement along +Broad Street by exhibiting in their office window a forty-pound heap of +coarse gold; raw, yellow gold, just as it had come from the sluice. +Every day knots of men stood gazing at the treasure. The Granville +papers devoted sundry columns to this remarkably successful enterprise +of its local business men. Bill had forwarded the first clean-up. +</P> + +<P> +And close on the heels of this—ten days later, to be exact—he came +home. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BOMB +</H3> + + +<P> +"You great bear," Hazel laughed, in the shelter of his encircling arms. +"My, it's good to see you again." +</P> + +<P> +She pushed herself back a little and surveyed him admiringly, with a +gratified sense of proprietorship. The cheeks of him were tanned to a +healthy brown, his eyes clear and shining. The offending flesh had +fallen away on the strenuous paths of the Klappan. He radiated +boundless vitality, strength, alertness, that perfect co-ordination of +mind and body that is bred of faring resourcefully along rude ways. +Few of his type trod the streets of Granville. It was a product solely +of the outer places. And for the time being the old, vivid emotion +surged strong within her. She thrilled at the touch of his hand, was +content to lay her head on his shoulder and forget everything in the +joy of his physical nearness. But the maid announced dinner, and her +man must be fed. He had missed luncheon on the train, he told her, by +reason of an absorbing game of whist. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, then," said she. "You must be starving." +</P> + +<P> +They elected to spend the evening quietly at home, as they used to do. +To Hazel it seemed quite like old times. Bill told her of the Klappan +country, and their prospects at the mine. +</P> + +<P> +"It's going to be a mighty big thing," he declared. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so glad," said Hazel. +</P> + +<P> +"We've got a group of ten claims. Whitey Lewis and the original +stakers hold an interest in their claims. I, acting as agent for these +other fellows in the company, staked five more. I took in eight more +men—and, believe me, things were humming when I left. Lewis is a +great rustler. He had out lots of timber, and we put in a wing dam +three hundred feet long, so she can flood and be darned; they'll keep +the sluice working just the same. And that quartz lead will justify a +fifty-thousand-dollar mill. So I'm told by an expert I took in to look +it over. And, say, I went in by the ranch. Old Jake has a fine +garden. He's still pegging away with the mule 'und Gretchen, der cow.' +I offered him a chance to make a fat little stake at the mine, but he +didn't want to leave the ranch. Great old feller, Jake. Something of +a philosopher in his way. Pretty wise old head. He'll make good, all +right." +</P> + +<P> +In the morning, Bill ate his breakfast and started downtown. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the dickens of being a business man," he complained to Hazel, +in the hallway. "It rides a man, once it gets hold of him. I'd rather +get a machine and go joy riding with you than anything else. But I +have to go and make a long-winded report; and I suppose those fellows +will want to talk gold by the yard. Adios, little person. I'll get +out for lunch, business or no business." +</P> + +<P> +Eleven-thirty brought him home, preoccupied and frowning. And he +carried his frown and his preoccupation to the table. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever is the matter, Bill?" Hazel anxiously inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I've got a nasty hunch that there's a nigger in the woodpile," he +replied. +</P> + +<P> +"What woodpile?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll tell you more about it to-night," he said bluntly. "I'm going to +pry something loose this afternoon or know the reason why." +</P> + +<P> +"Is something the matter about the mine?" she persisted. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he answered grimly. "There's nothing the matter with the mine. +It's the mining company." +</P> + +<P> +And that was all he vouchsafed. He finished his luncheon and left the +house. He was scarcely out of sight when Jimmie Brooks' runabout drew +up at the curb. A half minute later he was ushered into the +living-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill in?" was his first query. +</P> + +<P> +"No, he left just a few minutes ago," Hazel told him. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Brooks, a short, heavy-set, neatly dressed gentleman, whose rather +weak blue eyes loomed preternaturally large and protuberant behind +pince-nez that straddled an insignificant snub nose, took off his +glasses and twiddled them in his white, well-kept fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, too bad!" he murmured. "Thought I'd catch him. +</P> + +<P> +"By the way," he continued, after a pause, "you—ah—well, frankly, I +have reason to believe that you have a good deal of influence with your +husband in business matters, Mrs. Wagstaff. Kitty says so, and she +don't make mistakes very often in sizing up a situation." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't know; perhaps I have." Hazel smiled noncommittally. +She wondered what had led Kitty Brooks to that conclusion. "Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well—ah—you see," he began rather lamely. "The fact is—I hope +you'll regard this as strictly confidential, Mrs. Wagstaff. I wouldn't +want Bill to think I, or any of us, was trying to bring pressure on +him. But the fact is, Bill's got a mistaken impression about the way +we're conducting the financial end of this mining proposition. You +understand? Very able man, your husband, but headstrong as the deuce. +I'm afraid—to speak frankly—he'll create a lot of unpleasantness. +Might disrupt the company, in fact, if he sticks to the position he +took this morning. Thought I'd run in and talk it over with him. +Fellow's generally in a good humor, you know, when he's lunched +comfortably at home." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm quite in the dark," Hazel confessed. "Bill seemed a trifle put +out about something. He didn't say what it was about." +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I explain?" Mr. Brooks suggested. "You'd understand—and you +might be able to help. I don't as a rule believe in bringing business +into the home, but this bothers me. I hate to see a good thing go +wrong." +</P> + +<P> +"Explain, by all means," Hazel promptly replied. "If I can help, I'll +be glad to." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you." Mr. Brooks polished his glasses industriously for a +second and replaced them with painstaking exactitude. "Now—ah—this +is the situation: When the company was formed, five of us, including +your husband, took up enough stock to finance the preliminary work of +the undertaking. The remaining stock, seventy-five thousand dollars in +amount, was left in the treasury, to be held or put on the market as +the situation warranted. Bill was quite conservative in his first +statements concerning the property, and we all felt inclined to go +slow. But when Bill got out there on the ground and the thing began to +pay enormously right from the beginning, we—that is, the four of us +here, decided we ought to enlarge our scope. With the first clean-up, +Bill forwarded facts and figures to show that we had a property far +beyond our greatest expectations. And, of course, we saw at once that +the thing was ridiculously undercapitalized. By putting the balance of +the stock on the market, we could secure funds to work on a much larger +scale. Why, this first shipment of gold is equal to an annual dividend +of ten per cent on four hundred thousand dollars capital. It's +immense, for six weeks' work. +</P> + +<P> +"So we held a meeting and authorized the secretary to sell stock. +Naturally, your husband wasn't cognizant of this move, for the simple +reason that there was no way of reaching him—and his interests were +thoroughly protected, anyway. The stock was listed on Change. A good +bit was disposed of privately. We now have a large fund in the +treasury. It's a cinch. We've got the property, and it's rich enough +to pay dividends on a million. The decision of the stockholders is +unanimously for enlargement of the capital stock. The quicker we get +that property to its maximum output the more we make, you see. There's +a fine vein of quartz to develop, expensive machinery to install. It's +no more than fair that these outsiders who are clamoring to get aboard +should pay their share of the expense of organization and promotion. +You understand? You follow me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly," Hazel answered. "But what is the difficulty with Bill?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Brooks once more had recourse to polishing his pince-nez. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill is opposed to the whole plan," he said, pursing up his lips with +evident disapproval of Bill Wagstaff and all his works. "He seems to +feel that we should not have taken this step. He declares that no more +stock must be sold; that there must be no enlargement of capital. In +fact, that we must peg along in the little one-horse way we started. +And that would be a shame. We could make the Free Gold Mining Company +the biggest thing on the map, and put ourselves all on Easy Street." +</P> + +<P> +He spread his hands in a gesture of real regret. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill's a fine fellow," he said, "and one of my best friends. But he's +a hard man to do business with. He takes a very peculiar view of the +matter. I'm afraid he'll queer the company if he stirs up trouble over +this. That's why I hope you'll use whatever influence you have, to +induce him to withdraw his opposition." +</P> + +<P> +"But," Hazel murmured, in some perplexity, "from what little I know of +corporations, I don't see how he can set up any difficulty. If a +majority of the stock-holders decide to do anything, that settles it, +doesn't it? Bill is a minority of one, from what you say. And I don't +see what difference his objections make, anyway. How can he stop you +from taking any line of action whatever?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, not that at all," Brooks hastily assured. "Of course, we can +outvote him, and put it through. But we want him with us, don't you +see? We've a high opinion of his ability. He's the sort of man who +gets results; practical, you know; knows mining to a T. Only he shies +at our financial method. And if he began any foolish litigation, or +silly rumors got started about trouble among the company officers, it's +bound to hurt the stock. It's all right, I assure you. We're not +foisting a wildcat on the market. We've got the goods. Bill admits +that. It's the regular method, not only legitimate, but good finance. +Every dollar's worth of stock sold has the value behind it. +Distributes the risk a little more, that's all, and gives the company a +fund to operate successfully. +</P> + +<P> +"If Bill mentions it, you might suggest that he look into the matter a +little more fully before he takes any definite action," Brooks +concluded, rising. "I must get down to the office. It's his own +interests I'm thinking of, as much as my own. Of course, he couldn't +block a reorganization—but we want to satisfy him in every particular, +and, at the same time, carry out these plans. It's a big thing for all +of us. A big thing, I assure you." +</P> + +<P> +He rolled away in his car, and Hazel watched him from the window, a +trifle puzzled. She recalled Bill's remark at luncheon. In the light +of Brooks' explanation, she could see nothing wrong. On the other +hand, she knew Bill Wagstaff was not prone to jump at rash conclusions. +It was largely his habit to give others the benefit of the doubt. If +he objected to certain manipulations of the Free Gold Mining Company, +his objection was likely to be based on substantial grounds. But then, +as Brooks had observed, or, rather, inferred, Bill was not exactly an +expert on finance, and this new deal savored of pure finance—a term +which she had heard Bill scoff at more than once. At any rate, she +hoped nothing disagreeable would come of it. +</P> + +<P> +So she put the whole matter out of her mind. She had an engagement +with a dressmaker, and an invitation to afternoon tea following on +that. She dressed, and went whole-heartedly about her own affairs. +</P> + +<P> +Dinner time was drawing close when she returned home. She sat down by +a window that overlooked the street to watch for Bill. As a general +thing he was promptness personified, and since he was but twenty-four +hours returned from a three months' absence, she felt that he would not +linger—and Granville's business normally ceased at five o'clock. +</P> + +<P> +Six passed. The half-hour chime struck on the mantel clock. Hazel +grew impatient, petulant, aggrieved. Dinner would be served in twenty +minutes. Still there was no sign of him. And for lack of other +occupation she went into the hall and got the evening paper, which the +carrier had just delivered. +</P> + +<P> +A staring headline on the front page stiffened her to scandalized +attention. Straight across the tops of two columns it ran, a facetious +caption: +</P> + +<CENTER> +<P CLASS="noindent"> +WILLIAM WAGSTAFF IS A BEAR +</P> +</CENTER> + +<BR> + +<P> +Under that the subhead: +</P> + +<CENTER> +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Husky Mining Man Tumbles Prices and Brokers. <BR> +Whips Four men in Broad Street Office. Slugs <BR> +Another on Change. His Mighty Fists Subdue <BR> +Society's Finest. Finally Lands in Jail. +</P> +</CENTER> + +<BR> + +<P> +The body of the article Hazel read in what a sob sister would describe +as a state of mingled emotions. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +William Wagstaff is a mining gentleman from the northern wilds of +British Columbia. He is a big man, a natural-born fighter. To prove +this he inflicted a black eye and a split lip on Paul Lorimer, a broken +nose and sundry bruises on James L. Brooks. Also Allen T. Bray and +Edward Gurney Parkinson suffered certain contusions in the mêlèe. The +fracas occurred in the office of the Free Gold Mining Company, 1546 +Broad Street, at three-thirty this afternoon. While hammering the +brokers a police officer arrived on the scene and Wagstaff was duly +escorted to the city bastile. Prior to the general encounter in the +Broad Street office Wagstaff walked into the Stock Exchange, and made +statements about the Free Gold Mining Company which set all the brokers +by the ears. Lorimer was on the floor, and received his discolored +optic there. +</P> + +<P> +Lorimer is a partner in the brokerage firm of Bray, Parkinson & Co., +and is president of the Free Gold Mining Company. Brooks is manager of +the Acme Advertisers, and secretary of Free Gold. Bray and Parkinson +are stockholders, and Wagstaff is a stockholder and also manager of the +Free Gold properties in B. C. All are well known about town. +</P> + +<P> +A reporter was present when Wagstaff walked on the floor of the Stock +Exchange. He strode up to the post where Lorimer was transacting +business. +</P> + +<P> +"I serve notice on you right now," he said loudly and angrily, "that if +you sell another dollar's worth of Free Gold stock, I'll put you out of +business." +</P> + +<P> +Lorimer appeared to lose his temper. Some word was passed which +further incensed Wagstaff. He smote the broker and the broker smote +the floor. Wagstaff's punch would do credit to a champion pugilist, +from the execution it wrought. He immediately left the Stock Exchange, +and not long afterward Broad Street was electrified by sounds of combat +in the Free Gold office. It is conceded that Wagstaff had the +situation and his three opponents well in hand when the cop arrived. +</P> + +<P> +None of the men concerned would discuss the matter. From the remarks +dropped by Wagstaff, however, it appears that the policy of marketing +Free Gold stock was inaugurated without his knowledge or consent. +</P> + +<P> +Be that as it may, all sorts of rumors are in circulation, and Free +Gold stock, which has been sold during the past week as high as a +dollar forty, found few takers at par when Change closed. There has +been a considerable speculative movement in the stock, and the +speculators are beginning to wonder if there is a screw loose in the +company affairs. +</P> + +<P> +Wagstaff's case will come up to-morrow forenoon. A charge of +disturbing the peace was placed against him. He gave a cash bond and +was at once released. When the hearing comes some of the parties to +the affair may perchance divulge what lay at the bottom of the row. +</P> + +<P> +Any fine within the power of the court to impose is a mere bagatelle, +compared to the distinction of scientifically man-handling four of +society's finest in one afternoon. As one bystander remarked in the +classic phraseology of the street: +</P> + +<P> +"Wagstaff's a bear!" +</P> + +<P> +The brokers concerned might consider this to have a double meaning. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Hazel dropped the paper, mortified and wrathful. The city jail seemed +the very Pit itself to her. And the lurid publicity, the lifted +eyebrows of her friends, maddened her in prospect. Plain street +brawling, such as one might expect from a cabman or a taxi mahout, not +from a man like her husband. She involuntarily assigned the blame to +him. Not for the cause—the cause was of no importance whatever to +her—but for the act itself. Their best friends! She could hardly +realize it. Jimmie Brooks, jovial Jimmie, with a broken nose and +sundry bruises! And Paul Lorimer, distinguished Paul, who had the +courtly bearing which was the despair of his fellows, and the manner of +a dozen generations of culture wherewith to charm the women of his +acquaintance. He with a black eye and a split lip! So the paper +stated. It was vulgar. Brutal! The act of a cave man. +</P> + +<P> +She was on the verge of tears. +</P> + +<P> +And just at that moment the door opened, and in walked Bill. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE NOTE DISCORDANT +</H3> + + +<P> +Bill had divested himself of the scowl. He smiled as a man who has +solved some knotty problem to his entire satisfaction. Moreover, he +bore no mark of conflict, none of the conventional scars of a +rough-and-tumble fight. His clothing was in perfect order, his tie and +collar properly arranged, as a gentleman's tie and collar should be. +For a moment Hazel found herself believing the <I>Herald</I> story a pure +canard. But as he walked across the room her searching gaze discovered +that the knuckles of both his hands were bruised and bloody, the skin +broken. She picked up the paper. +</P> + +<P> +"Is this true?" she asked tremulously, pointing to the offending +headlines. +</P> + +<P> +Bill frowned. +</P> + +<P> +"Substantially correct," he answered coolly. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill, how could you?" she cried. "It's simply disgraceful. Brawling +in public like any saloon loafer, and getting in jail and all. Haven't +you any consideration for me—any pride?" +</P> + +<P> +His eyes narrowed with an angry glint. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he said deliberately. "I have. Pride in my word as a man. A +sort of pride that won't allow any bunch of lily-fingered crooks to +make me a party to any dirty deal. I don't propose to get the worst of +it in that way. I won't allow myself to be tarred with their stick." +</P> + +<P> +"But they're not trying to give you the worst of it," she burst out. +Visions of utter humiliation arose to confront and madden her. "You've +insulted and abused our best friends—to say nothing of giving us all +the benefit of newspaper scandal. We'll be notorious!" +</P> + +<P> +"Best friends? God save the mark!" he snorted contemptuously. "Our +best friends, as you please to call them, are crooks, thieves, and +liars. They're rotten. They stink with their moral rottenness. And +they have the gall to call it good business." +</P> + +<P> +"Just because their business methods don't agree with your peculiar +ideas is no reason why you should call names," she flared. "Mr. Brooks +called just after you left at noon. <I>He</I> told me something about this, +and assured me that you would find yourself mistaken if you'd only take +pains to think it over. I don't believe such men as they are would +stoop to anything crooked. Even if the opportunity offered, they have +too much at stake in this community. They couldn't afford to be +crooked." +</P> + +<P> +"So Brooks came around to talk it over with you, eh?" Bill sneered. +"Told you it was all on the square, did he? Explained it all very +plausibly, I suppose. Probably suggested that you try smoothing me +down, too. It would be like 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"He did explain about this stock-selling business," Hazel replied +defensively. "And I can't see why you find it necessary to make a +fuss. I don't see where the cheating and crookedness comes in. +Everybody who buys stock gets their money's worth, don't they? But I +don't care anything about your old mining deal. It's this fighting and +quarreling with people who are not used to that sort of brute +action—and the horrid things they'll say and think about us." +</P> + +<P> +"About you, you mean—as the wife of such a boor—that's what's rubbing +you raw," Bill flung out passionately. "You're acquiring the class +psychology good and fast. Did you ever think of anybody but yourself? +Have I ever betrayed symptoms of idiocy? Do you think it natural or +even likely for me to raise the devil in a business affair like this +out of sheer malice? Don't I generally have a logical basis for any +position I take? Yet you don't wait or ask for any explanation from +<I>me</I>. You stand instinctively with the crowd that has swept you off +your feet in the last six months. You take another man's word that +it's all right and I'm all wrong, without waiting to hear my side of +it. And the petty-larceny incident of my knocking down two or three +men and being under arrest as much as thirty minutes looms up before +you as the utter depths of disgrace. Disgrace to you! It's all +you—you! How do you suppose it strikes me to have my wife take sides +against me on snap judgment like that? It shows a heap of faith and +trust and loyalty, doesn't it? Oh, it makes me real proud and glad of +my mate. It does. By thunder, if Granville had ever treated me as it +tried to treat you one time, according to your own account, I'd wipe my +feet on them at every opportunity." +</P> + +<P> +"If you'd explain," Hazel began hesitatingly. She was thoroughly +startled at the smoldering wrath that flared out in this speech of his. +She bitterly resented being talked to in that fashion. It was unjust. +Particularly that last fling. And she was not taking sides. She +refused to admit that—even though she had a disturbing consciousness +that her attitude could scarcely be construed otherwise. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll explain nothing," Bill flashed stormily. "Not at this stage of +the game. I'm through explaining. I'm going to act. I refuse to be +raked over the coals like a naughty child, and then asked to tell why I +did it. I'm right, and when I know I'm right I'll go the limit. I'm +going to take the kinks out of this Free Gold deal inside of +forty-eight hours. Then I'm through with Granville. Hereafter I +intend to fight shy of a breed of dogs who lose every sense of square +dealing when there is a bunch of money in sight. I shall be ready to +leave here within a week. And I want you to be ready, too." +</P> + +<P> +"I won't," she cried, on the verge of hysterics. "I won't go back to +that cursed silence and loneliness. You made this trouble here, not I. +I won't go back to Pine River, or the Klappan. I won't, I tell you!" +</P> + +<P> +Bill stared at her moodily for a second. +</P> + +<P> +"Just as you please," he said quietly. +</P> + +<P> +He walked into the spare bedroom. Hazel heard the door close gently +behind him, heard the soft click of a well-oiled lock. Then she +slumped, gasping, in the wide-armed chair by the window, and the hot +tears came in a blinding flood. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE AFTERMATH +</H3> + + +<P> +They exchanged only bare civilities at the breakfast table, and Bill at +once went downtown. When he was gone, Hazel fidgeted uneasily about +the rooms. She had only a vague idea of legal processes, having never +seen the inside of a courtroom. She wondered what penalty would be +inflicted on Bill, whether he would be fined or sent to prison. Surely +it was a dreadful thing to batter men like Brooks and Lorimer and +Parkinson. They might even make it appear that Bill had tried to +murder them. Her imagination magnified and distorted the incident out +of all proportion. +</P> + +<P> +And brooding over these things, she decided to go and talk it over with +Kitty Brooks. Kitty would not blame her for these horrid man troubles. +</P> + +<P> +But she was mistaken there. Kitty was all up in arms. She was doubly +injured. Her husband had suffered insult and brutal injury. Moreover, +he was threatened with financial loss. Perhaps that threatened wound +in the pocketbook loomed larger than the physical hurt. At any rate, +she vented some of her spleen on Hazel. +</P> + +<P> +"Your husband started this mining thing," she declared heatedly. +"Jimmie says that if he persists in trying to turn things upside down +it will mean a loss of thousands. And we haven't any money to +lose—I'm sure Jimmie has worked hard for what he's got. I'm simply +sick over it. It's bad enough to have one's husband brought home +looking as if he'd been slugged by footpads, and to have the papers go +on about it so. But to have a big loss inflicted on us just when we +were really beginning to get ahead, is too much. I wish you'd never +introduced your miner to us." +</P> + +<P> +That speech, of course, obliterated friendship on the spot, as far as +Hazel was concerned. Even though she was quite prepared to have Bill +blamed for the trouble, did in fact so blame him herself, she could not +stomach Kitty's language nor attitude. But the humiliation of the +interview she chalked up against Bill. She went home with a red spot +glowing on either cheekbone. A rather incoherent telephone +conversation with Mrs. Allen T. Bray, in which that worthy matron +declared her husband prostrated from his injuries, and in the same +breath intimated that Mr. Wagstaff would be compelled to make ample +reparation for his ruffianly act, did not tend to soothe her. +</P> + +<P> +Bill failed to appear at luncheon. During the afternoon an uncommon +number other acquaintances dropped in. In the tactful manner of their +kind they buzzed with the one absorbing topic. Some were vastly +amused. Some were sympathetic. One and all they were consumed with +curiosity for detailed inside information on the Free Gold squabble. +One note rang consistently in their gossipy song: The Free Gold Company +was going to lose a pot of money in some manner, as a consequence of +the affair. Mr. Wagstaff had put some surprising sort of spoke in the +company's wheel. They had that from their husbands who trafficked on +Broad Street. By what power he had accomplished this remained a +mystery to the ladies. Singly and collectively they drove Hazel to the +verge of distraction. When the house was at last clear of them she +could have wept. Through no fault of her own she had given Granville +another choice morsel to roll under its gossipy tongue. +</P> + +<P> +So that when six o'clock brought Bill home, she was coldly disapproving +of him and his affairs in their entirety, and at no pains to hide her +feelings. He followed her into the living-room when the uncomfortable +meal—uncomfortable by reason of the surcharged atmosphere—was at an +end. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's get down to bed rock, Hazel," he said gently. "Doesn't it seem +rather foolish to let a bundle of outside troubles set up so much +friction between us two? I don't want to stir anything up; I don't +want to quarrel. But I can't stand this coldness and reproach from +you. It's unjust, for one thing. And it's so unwise—if we value our +happiness as a thing worth making some effort to save." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care to discuss it at all," she flared up. "I've heard +nothing else all day but this miserable mining business and your +ruffianly method of settling a dispute. I'd rather not talk about it." +</P> + +<P> +"But we must talk about it," he persisted patiently. "I've got to show +you how the thing stands, so that you can see for yourself where your +misunderstanding comes in. You can't get to the bottom of anything +without more or less talk." +</P> + +<P> +"Talk to yourself, then," she retorted ungraciously. And with that she +ran out of the room. +</P> + +<P> +But she had forgotten or underestimated the catlike quickness of her +man. He caught her in the doorway, and the grip of his fingers on her +arm brought a cry of pain. +</P> + +<P> +"Forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt," he said contritely. "Be a good +girl, Hazel, and let's get our feet on earth again. Sit down and put +your arm around my neck and be my pal, like you used to be. We've got +no business nursing these hard feelings. It's folly. I haven't +committed any crime. I've only stood for a square deal. Come on; bury +the hatchet, little person." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me go," she sobbed, struggling to be free. "I h-hate you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Please, little person. I can't eat humble pie more than once or +twice." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me go," she panted. "I don't want you to touch me." +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to me," he said sternly. "I've stood about all of your +nonsense I'm able to stand. I've had to fight a pack of business +wolves to keep them from picking my carcass, and, what's more important +to me, to keep them from handing a raw deal to five men who wallowed +through snow and frost and all kinds of hardship to make these sharks a +fortune. I've got down to their level and fought them with their own +weapons—and the thing is settled. I said last night I'd be through +here inside a week. I'm through now—through here. I have business in +the Klappan; to complete this thing I've set my hand to. Then I'm +going to the ranch and try to get the bad taste out of my mouth. I'm +going to-morrow. I've no desire or intention to coerce you. You're my +wife, and your place is with me, if you care anything about me. And I +want you. You know that, don't you? I wouldn't be begging you like +this if I didn't. I haven't changed, nor had my eyes dazzled by any +false gods. But it's up to you. I don't bluff. I'm going, and if I +have to go without you I won't come back. Think it over, and just ask +yourself honestly if it's worth while." +</P> + +<P> +He drew her up close to him and kissed her on one anger-flushed cheek, +and then, as he had done the night before, walked straight away to the +bedroom and closed the door behind him. +</P> + +<P> +Hazel slept little that night. A horrid weight seemed to rest +suffocatingly upon her. More than once she had an impulse to creep in +there where Bill lay and forget it all in the sweep of that strong arm. +But she choked back the impulse angrily. She would not forgive him. +He had made her suffer. For his high-handedness she would make him +suffer in kind. At least, she would not crawl to him begging +forgiveness. +</P> + +<P> +When sunrise laid a yellow beam, all full of dancing motes, across her +bed, she heard Bill stir, heard him moving about the apartment with +restless steps. After a time she also heard the unmistakable sound of +a trunk lid thrown back, and the movements of him as he gathered his +clothes—so she surmised. But she did not rise till the maid rapped on +her door with the eight-o'clock salutation: +</P> + +<P> +"Breakfast, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +They made a pretense of eating. Hazel sought a chair in the +living-room. A book lay open in her lap. But the print ran into +blurred lines. She could not follow the sense of the words. An +incessant turmoil of thought harassed her. Bill passed through the +room once or twice. Determinedly she ignored him. The final snap of +the lock on his trunk came to her at last, the bumping sounds of its +passage to the hall. Then a burly expressman shouldered it into his +wagon and drove away. +</P> + +<P> +A few minutes after that Bill came in and took a seat facing her. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do, Hazel?" he asked soberly. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing," she curtly replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going to sit down and fold your hands and let our air castles +come tumbling about our ears, without making the least effort to +prevent?" he continued gently. "Seems to me that's not like you at +all. I never thought you were a quitter." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not a quitter," she flung back resentfully. "I refuse to be +browbeaten, that's all. There appears to be only one choice—to follow +you like a lamb. And I'm not lamblike. I'd say that you are the +quitter. You have stirred up all this trouble here between us. Now +you're running away from it. That's how it looks to me. Go on! I can +get along." +</P> + +<P> +"I dare say you can," he commented wearily. "Most of us can muddle +along somehow, no matter what happens. But it seems a pity, little +person. We had all the chance in the world. You've developed an +abnormal streak lately. If you'd just break away and come back with +me. You don't know what good medicine those old woods are. Won't you +try it a while?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am not by nature fitted to lead the hermit existence," she returned +sarcastically. +</P> + +<P> +And even while her lips were uttering these various unworthy little +bitternesses she inwardly wondered at her own words. It was not what +she would have said, not at all what she was half minded to say. But a +devil of perverseness spurred her. She was full of protest against +everything. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish we'd had a baby," Bill murmured softly. "You'd be different. +You'd have something to live for besides this frothy, neurotic +existence that has poisoned you against the good, clean, healthy way of +life. I wish we'd had a kiddie. We'd have a fighting chance for +happiness now; something to keep us sane, something outside of our own +ego to influence us." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank God there isn't one!" she muttered. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, well," Bill sighed, "I guess there is no use. I guess we can't +get together on anything. There doesn't seem to be any give-and-take +between us any longer." +</P> + +<P> +He rose and walked to the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned. +</P> + +<P> +"I have fixed things at the bank for you," he said abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +Then he walked out, without waiting for an answer. +</P> + +<P> +She heard the soft whir of the elevator. A minute later she saw him on +the sidewalk. He had an overcoat on his arm, a suit case in his hand. +She saw him lift a finger to halt a passing car. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed incredible that he should go like that. Surely he would come +back at noon or at dinner time. She had always felt that under his +gentleness there was iron. But deep in her heart she had never +believed him so implacable of purpose where she was concerned. +</P> + +<P> +She waited wearily, stirring with nervous restlessness from room to +room. +</P> + +<P> +Luncheon passed. The afternoon dragged by to a close. Dusk fell. And +when the night wrapped Granville in its velvet mantle, and the street +lights blinked away in shining rows, she cowered, sobbing, in the big +chair by the window. +</P> + +<P> +He was gone. +</P> + +<P> +Gone, without even saying good-by! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap31"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A LETTER FROM BILL +</H3> + + +<P> +All through the long night she lay awake, struggling with the +incredible fact that Bill had left her; trying to absolve herself from +blame; flaring up in anger at his unyielding attitude, even while she +was sorely conscious that she herself had been stubbornly unyielding. +If he had truly loved her, she reiterated, he would never have made it +an issue between them. But that was like a man—to insist on his own +desires being made paramount; to blunder on headlong, no matter what +antagonisms he aroused. And he was completely in the wrong, she +reasserted. +</P> + +<P> +She recapitulated it all. Through the winter he had consistently +withdrawn into his shell. For her friends and for most of her +pleasures he had at best exhibited only tolerance. And he had ended by +outraging both them and her, and on top of that demanded that she turn +her back at twenty-four hours' notice, on Granville and all its +associations and follow him into a wilderness that she dreaded. She +had full right to her resentment. As his partner in the chancy +enterprise of marriage were not her feelings and desires entitled to +equal consideration? He had assumed the role of dictator. And she had +revolted. That was all. She was justified. +</P> + +<P> +Eventually she slept. At ten o'clock, heavy-eyed, suffering an +intolerable headache, she rose and dressed. +</P> + +<P> +Beside her plate lay a thick letter addressed in Bill's handwriting. +She drank her coffee and went back to the bedroom before she opened the +envelope. By the postmark she saw that it had been mailed on a train. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +DEAR GIRL: I have caught my breath, so to speak, but I doubt if ever a +more forlorn cuss listened to the interminable clicking of car wheels. +I am tempted at each station to turn back and try again. It seems so +unreal, this parting in hot anger, so miserably unnecessary. But when +I stop to sum it up again, I see no use in another appeal. I could +come back—yes. Only the certain knowledge that giving in like that +would send us spinning once more in a vicious circle prevents me. I +didn't believe it possible that we could get so far apart. Nor that a +succession of little things could cut so weighty a figure in our lives. +And perhaps you are very sore and resentful at me this morning for +being so precipitate. +</P> + +<P> +I couldn't help it, Hazel. It seemed the only way. It seems so yet to +me. There was nothing more to keep me in Granville—everything to make +me hurry away. If I had weakened and temporized with you it would only +mean the deferring of just what has happened. When you declared +yourself flatly and repeatedly it seemed hopeless to argue further. I +am a poor pleader, perhaps; and I do not believe in compulsion between +us. Whatever you do you must do of your own volition, without pressure +from me. We couldn't be happy otherwise. If I compelled you to follow +me against your desire we should only drag misery in our train. +</P> + +<P> +I couldn't even say good-by. I didn't want it to be good-by. I didn't +know if I could stick to my determination to go unless I went as I did. +And my reason told me that if there must be a break it would better +come now than after long-drawn-out bickerings and bitterness. If we +are so diametrically opposed where we thought we stood together we have +made a mistake that no amount of adjusting, nothing but separate roads, +will rectify. Myself I refuse to believe that we have made such a +mistake. I don't think that honestly and deliberately you prefer an +exotic, useless, purposeless, parasitic existence to the normal, +wholesome life we happily planned. But you are obsessed, +intoxicated—I can't put it any better—and nothing but a shock will +sober you. If I'm wrong, if love and Bill's companionship can't lure +you away from these other things—why, I suppose you will consider it +an ended chapter. In that case you will not suffer. The situation as +it stands will be a relief to you. If, on the other hand, it's merely +a stubborn streak, that won't let you admit that you've carried your +proud little head on an over-stiff neck, do you think it's worth the +price? I don't. I'm not scolding, little person. I'm sick and sore +at the pass we've come to. No damn-fool pride can close my eyes to the +fact or keep me from admitting freely that I love you just as much and +want you as longingly as I did the day I put you aboard the <I>Stanley +D.</I> at Bella Coola. I thought you were stepping gladly out of my life +then. And I let you go freely and without anything but a dumb protest +against fate, because it was your wish. I can step out of your life +again—if it is your wish. But I can't imprison myself in your cities. +I can't pretend, even for your sake, to play the game they call +business. I'm neither an idler nor can I become a legalized buccaneer. +I have nothing but contempt for those who are. Mind you, this is not +so sweeping a statement as it sounds. No one has a keener appreciation +of what civilization means than I. Out of it has arisen culture and +knowledge, much of what should make the world a better place for us +all. But somehow this doesn't apply to the mass, and particularly not +to the circles we invaded in Granville. With here and there a solitary +exception that class is hopeless in its smug self-satisfaction—its +narrowness of outlook, and unblushing exploitation of the less +fortunate, repels me. +</P> + +<P> +And to dabble my hands in their muck, to settle down and live my life +according to their bourgeois standards, to have grossness of soft flesh +replace able sinews, to submerge mentality in favor of a specious +craftiness of mind which passes in the "city" for brains—well, I'm on +the road. And, oh, girl, girl, I wish you were with me. +</P> + +<P> +I must explain this mining deal—that phase of it which sent me on the +rampage in Granville. I should have done so before, should have +insisted on making it clear to you. But a fellow doesn't always do the +proper thing at the proper time. All too frequently we are dominated +by our emotions rather than by our judgment. It was so with me. The +other side had been presented to you rather cleverly at the right time. +And your ready acceptance of it angered me beyond bounds. You were +prejudiced. It stirred me to a perfect fury to think you couldn't be +absolutely loyal to your pal. When you took that position I simply +couldn't attempt explanations. Do you think I'd ever have taken the +other fellow's side against you, right or wrong? +</P> + +<P> +Anyway, here it is: You got the essentials, up to a certain point, from +Brooks. But he didn't tell it all—his kind never does, not by a long +shot. They, the four of them, it seems, held a meeting as soon as I +shipped out that gold and put through that stock-selling scheme. That +was legitimate. I couldn't restrain them from that, being a hopeless +minority of one. Their chief object, however, was to let two or three +friends in on the ground floor of a good thing; also, they wanted each +a good bundle of that stock while it was cheap—figuring that with the +prospects I had opened up it would sell high. So they had it on the +market, and in addition had everything framed up to reorganize with a +capitalization of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This all cut +and dried before I got there. Now, as it originally stood, the five of +us would each have made a small fortune on these Klappan claims. +They're good. But with a quarter of a million in outstanding +stock—well, it would be all right for the fellow with a big block. +But you can see where I would get off with a five-thousand-dollar +interest. To be sure, a certain proportion of the money derived from +the sale of this stock should be mine. But it goes into the treasury, +and they had it arranged to keep it in the treasury, as a fund for +operations, with them doing the operating. They had already indicated +their bent by voting an annual stipend of ten thousand and six thousand +dollars to Lorimer and Brooks as president and secretary respectively. +Me, they proposed to quiet with a manager's wage of a mere five +thousand a year—after I got on the ground and began to get my back up. +</P> + +<P> +Free Gold would have been a splendid Stock Exchange possibility. They +had it all doped out how they could make sundry clean-ups irrespective +of the mine's actual product. That was the first thing that made me +dubious. They were stock-market gamblers, manipulators pure and +simple. But I might have let it go at that, seeing it was their game +and not one that I or anybody I cared about would get fleeced at. I +didn't approve of it, you understand. It was their game. +</P> + +<P> +But they capped the climax with what I must cold-bloodedly characterize +as the baldest attempt at a dirty fraud I ever encountered. And they +had the gall to try and make me a party to it. To make this clear you +must understand that I, on behalf of the company and acting as the +company's agent, grubstaked Whitey Lewis and four others to go in and +stake those claims. I was empowered to arrange with these five men +that if the claims made a decent showing each should receive five +thousand dollars in stock for assigning their claims to the company, +and should have employment at top wages while the claims were operated. +</P> + +<P> +They surely earned it. You know what the North is in the dead of +winter. They bucked their way through a hell of frost and snow and +staked the claims. If ever men were entitled to what was due them, +they were. And not one of them stuttered over his bargain, even though +they were taking out weekly as much gold as they were to get for their +full share. They'd given their word, and they were white men. They +took me for a white man also. They took my word that they would get +what was coming to them, and gave me in the company's name clear title +to every claim. I put those titles on record in Hazleton, and came +home. +</P> + +<P> +Lorimer and Brooks deliberately proposed to withhold that stock, to +defraud these men, to steal—oh, I can't find words strong enough. +They wanted to let the matter stand; wanted me to let it be adjusted +later; anything to serve as an excuse for delay. Brooks said to me, +with a grin; "The property's in the company's name—let the roughnecks +sweat a while. They've got no come-back, anyhow." +</P> + +<P> +That was when I smashed him. Do you blame me? I'd taken over those +fellows' claims in good faith. Could I go back there and face those +men and say: "Boys, the company's got your claims, and they won't pay +for them." Do you think for a minute I'd let a bunch of lily-fingered +crooks put anything like that over on simple, square-dealing fellows +who were too honest to protect their own interests from sharp practice? +A quartet of soft-bodied mongrels who sat in upholstered office chairs +while these others wallowed through six feet of snow for three weeks, +living on bacon and beans, to grab a pot of gold for them! It makes my +fist double up when I think about it. +</P> + +<P> +And I wouldn't be put off or placated by a chance to fatten my own bank +roll. I didn't care if I broke the Free Gold Mining Company and myself +likewise. A dollar doesn't terrify nor yet fascinate me—I hope it +never will. And while, perhaps, it was not what they would call good +form for me to lose my temper and go at them with my fists, I was +fighting mad when I thoroughly sensed their dirty project. Anyway, it +helped bring them to time. When you take a man of that type and cuff +him around with your two hands he's apt to listen serious to what you +say. And they listened when I told them in dead earnest next day that +Whitey Lewis and his partners must have what was due them, or I'd wreck +the bunch of them if it took ten years and every dollar I had to do it. +And I could have put them on the tramp, too—they'd already dipped +their fingers in where they couldn't stand litigation. I'm sure of +that—or they would never have come through; which they did. +</P> + +<P> +But I'm sorry I ever got mixed up with them. I'm going to sell my +stock and advise Lewis and the others to do the same while we can get +full value for it. Lorimer and that bunch will manipulate the outfit +to death, no matter how the mine produces. They'll have a quarter of a +million to work on pretty soon, and they'll work it hard. They're +shysters—but it's after all only a practical demonstration of the +ethics of the type—"Do everybody you can—if you can do 'em so there's +no come-back." +</P> + +<P> +That's all of that. I don't care two whoops about the money. There is +still gold in the Klappan Range and other corners of the North, +whenever I need it. But it nauseated me. I can't stand that cutthroat +game. And Granville, like most other cities of its kind, lives by and +for that sort of thing. The pressure of modern life makes it +inevitable. Anyway, a town is no place for me. I can stomach it about +so long, and no longer. It's too cramped, too girded about with +petty-larceny conventions. If once you slip and get down, every one +walks on you. Everything's restricted, priced, tinkered with. There +is no real freedom of body or spirit. I wouldn't trade a comfy log +cabin in the woods with a big fireplace and a shelf of books for the +finest home on Maple Drive—not if I had to stay there and stifle in +the dust and smoke and smells. That would be a sordid and impoverished +existence. I cannot live by the dog-eat-dog code that seems to prevail +wherever folk get jammed together in an unwieldy social mass. +</P> + +<P> +I have said the like to you before. By nature and training I'm +unfitted to live in these crowded places. I love you, little person, I +don't think you realize how much, but I can't make you happy by making +myself utterly miserable. That would only produce the inevitable +reaction. But I still think you are essentially enough like me to meet +me on common ground. You loved me and you found contentment and joy at +our little cabin once. Don't you think it might be waiting there again? +</P> + +<P> +If you really care, if I and the old North still mean anything to you, +a few days or weeks, or even months of separation won't matter. An +affection that can't survive six months is too fragile to go through +life on. I don't ask you to jump the next train and follow me. I +don't ask you to wire me, "Come back, Bill." Though I would come quick +enough if you called me. I merely want you to think it over soberly +and let your heart decide. You know where I stand, don't you, Hazel, +dear? I haven't changed—not a bit—I'm the same old Bill. But I'd +rather hit the trail alone than with an unwilling partner. Don't +flounder about in any quicksand of duty. There is no "I ought to" +between us. +</P> + +<P> +So it is up to you once more, little person. If my way is not to be +your way I will abide by your decision without whining. And whenever +you want to reach me, a message to Felix Courvoiseur, Fort George, will +eventually find me. I'll fix it that way. +</P> + +<P> +I don't know what I'll do after I make that Klappan trip. I'm too +restless to make plans. What's the use of planning when there's nobody +but myself to plan for? +</P> + +<P> +So long, little person. I like you a heap, for all your cantankerous +ways. +<BR><BR> +BILL. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +She laid aside the letter, with a lump in her throat. For a brief +instant she was minded to telegraph the word that would bring him +hurrying back. But—some of the truths he had set down in cold black +and white cut her deep. Of a surety she had drawn her weapon on the +wrong side in the mining trouble. Over-hasty?—yes. And shamefully +disloyal. Perhaps there was something in it, after all; that is to +say, it might be they had made a mistake. She saw plainly enough that +unless she could get back some of the old enthusiasm for that +wilderness life, unless the fascination of magnificent distances, of +silent, breathless forests, of contented, quiet days on trail and +stream, could lay fast hold of her again, they would only defer the day +of reckoning, as Bill had said. +</P> + +<P> +And she was not prepared to go that far. She still harbored a +smoldering grudge against him for his volcanic outburst in Granville, +and too precipitate departure. He had given her no time to think, to +make a choice. The flesh-pots still seemed wholly desirable—or, +rather, she shrank from the alternative. When she visualized the North +it uprose always in its most threatening presentment, indescribably +lonely, the playground of ruthless, elemental forces, terrifying in its +vast emptinesses. It appalled her in retrospect, loomed unutterably +desolate in contrast to her present surroundings. +</P> + +<P> +No, she would not attempt to call him back. She doubted if he would +come. And she would not go—not yet. She must have time to think. +</P> + +<P> +One thing pricked her sorely. She could not reconcile the roguery of +Brooks and Lorimer with the men as she knew them. Not that she doubted +Bill's word. But there must be a mistake somewhere. Ruthless +competition in business she knew and understood. Only the fit +survived—just as in her husband's chosen field only the peculiarly fit +could hope to survive. But she rather resented the idea that pleasant, +well-bred people could be guilty of coarse, forthright fraud. Surely +not! +</P> + +<P> +Altogether, as the first impression of Bill's letter grew less vivid to +her she considered her grievances more. And she was minded to act as +she had set out to do—to live her life as seemed best to her, rather +than pocket her pride and rejoin Bill. The feminine instinct to compel +the man to capitulate asserted itself more and more strongly. +</P> + +<P> +Wherefore, she dressed carefully and prepared to meet a luncheon +engagement which she recalled as being down for that day. No matter +that her head ached woefully. Thought maddened her. She required +distraction, craved change. The chatter over the tea-cups, the +cheerful nonsense of that pleasure-seeking crowd might be a tonic. +Anything was better than to sit at home and brood. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap32"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SPUR. +</H3> + + +<P> +A month passed. +</P> + +<P> +During that thirty-day period she received a brief note from Bill. +Just a few lines to say: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Hit the ranch yesterday, little person. Looks good to me. Have had +Lauer do some work on it this summer. Went fishing last night about +sundown. Trout were rising fine. Nailed a two-pounder. He jumped a +foot clear of the water after my fly, and gave me a hot time for about +ten minutes. Woke up this morning at daylight and found a buck deer +with two lady friends standing in the middle of the clearing. I loafed +a fews days in Fort George, sort of thinking I might hear from you. Am +sending this out by Jake. Will start for the Klappan about day after +to-morrow. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +She had not answered his first letter. She had tried to. But somehow +when she tried to set pen to paper the right words would not come. She +lacked his facility of expression. There was so much she wanted to +say, so little she seemed able to say. As the days passed she felt +less sure of her ground, less sure that she had not sacrificed +something precious to a vagary of self, an obsession of her own ego. +</P> + +<P> +Many things took on a different complexion now that she stood alone. +No concrete evidence of change stood forth preëminent. It was largely +subjective, atmospheric, intangible impressions. +</P> + +<P> +Always with a heart sinking she came back to the empty apartment, +knowing that it would be empty. During Bill's transient absence of the +spring she had missed him scarcely at all. She could not say that now. +</P> + +<P> +And slowly but surely she began to view all her activities of her +circle with a critical eye. She was brought to this partly in +self-defense. Certain of her friends had become tentative enemies. +Kitty Brooks and the Bray womenfolk, who were a numerous and +influential tribe, not only turned silent faces when they met, but they +made war on her in the peculiar fashion of women. A word here, a +suggestive phrase there, a shrug of the shoulders. It all bore fruit. +Other friends conveyed the avid gossip. Hazel smiled and ignored it. +But in her own rooms she raged unavailingly. +</P> + +<P> +Her husband had left her. There was a man in the case. They had lost +everything. The first count was sufficiently maddening because it was +a half truth. And any of it was irritating—even if few +believed—since it made a choice morsel to digest in gossipy corners, +and brought sundry curious stares on Hazel at certain times. Also Mr. +Wagstaff had caused the stockholders of Free Gold a heavy loss—which +was only offset by the fact that the Free Gold properties were +producing richly. None of this was even openly flung at her. She +gathered it piecemeal. And it galled her. She could not openly defend +either Bill or herself against the shadowy scandalmongers. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly it dawned upon her, with a bitterness born of her former +experience with Granville, that she had lost something of the standing +that certain circles had accorded her as the wife of a successful +mining man. It made her ponder. Was Bill so far wrong, after all, in +his estimate of them? It was a disheartening conclusion. She had come +of a family that stood well in Granville; she had grown up there; if +life-time friends blew hot and cold like that, was the game worth +playing? +</P> + +<P> +In so far as she could she gave the lie to some of the petty gossip. +Whereas at first she had looked dubiously on spending Bill's money to +maintain the standard of living they had set up, she now welcomed that +deposit of five thousand dollars as a means to demonstrate that even in +his absence he stood behind her financially—which she began to +perceive counted more than anything else. So long as she could dress +in the best, while she could ride where others walked, so long as she +betrayed no limitation of resources, the doors stood wide. Not what +you are, but what you've got—she remembered Bill saying that was their +holiest creed. +</P> + +<P> +It repelled her. And sometimes she was tempted to sit down and pour it +all out in a letter to him. But she could not quite bring herself to +the point. Always behind Bill loomed the vast and dreary Northland, +and she shrank from that. +</P> + +<P> +On top of this, she began to suffer a queer upset of her physical +condition. All her life she had been splendidly healthy; her body a +perfect-working machine, afflicted with no weaknesses. Now odd +spasmodic pains recurred without rhyme or reason in her head, her back, +her limbs, striking her with sudden poignancy, disappearing as suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +She was stretched on the lounge one afternoon wrestling nervously with +a particularly acute attack, when Vesta Lorimer was ushered in. +</P> + +<P> +"You're almost a stranger," Hazel remarked, after the first greetings. +"Your outing must have been pleasant, to hold you so long." +</P> + +<P> +"It would have held me longer," Vesta returned, "if I didn't have to be +in touch with my market. I could live quite happily on my island eight +months in the year. But one can't get people to come several hundred +miles to a sitting. And I feel inclined to acquire a living income +while my vogue lasts." +</P> + +<P> +"You're rather a wilderness lover, aren't you?" Hazel commented. "I +don't think you'd love it as dearly if you were buried alive in it." +</P> + +<P> +"That would all depend on the circumstances," Vesta replied. "One +escapes many disheartening things in a country that is still +comparatively primitive. The continual grind of keeping one's end up +in town gets terribly wearisome. I'm always glad to go to the woods, +and sorry when I have to leave. But I suppose it's largely in one's +point of view." +</P> + +<P> +They chatted of sundry matters for a few minutes. +</P> + +<P> +"By the way, is there any truth in the statement that this Free Gold +row has created trouble between you and your husband?" Vesta asked +abruptly. "I dare say it's quite an impertinent question, and you'd be +well within your rights to tell me it's none of my business. But I +should like to confound some of these petty tattlers. I haven't been +home forty-eight hours; yet I've heard tongues wagging. I hope there's +nothing in it. I warned Mr. Wagstaff against Paul." +</P> + +<P> +"Warned him? Why?" Hazel neglected the question entirely. The +bluntness of it took her by surprise. Frank speech was not a +characteristic of Vesta Lorimer's set. +</P> + +<P> +The girl shrugged her shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"He is my brother, but that doesn't veil my eyes," she said coolly. +"Paul is too crooked to lie straight in bed. I'm glad Mr. Wagstaff +brought the lot of them up with a round turn—which he seems to have +done. If he had used a club instead of his fists it would have been +only their deserts. I suppose the fuss quite upset you?" +</P> + +<P> +"It did," Hazel admitted grudgingly. "It did more than upset me." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought as much," Vesta said slowly. "It made you inflict an +undeserved hurt on a man who should have had better treatment at your +hands; not only because he loves you, but because he is one of the few +men who deserve the best that you or any woman can give." +</P> + +<P> +Hazel straightened up angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"Where do you get your astonishing information, pray?" she asked hotly. +"And where do you get your authority to say such things to me?" +</P> + +<P> +Vesta tucked back a vagrant strand of her tawny hair. Her blue eyes +snapped, and a red spot glowed on each smooth, fair cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't get it; I'm taking it," she flung back. "I have eyes and +ears, and I have used them for months. Since you inquire, I happened +to be going over the Lake Division on the same train that carried your +husband back to the North. You can't knife a man without him bearing +the marks of it; and I learned in part why he was going back alone. +The rest I guessed, by putting two and two together. You're a silly, +selfish, shortsighted little fool, if my opinion is worth having." +</P> + +<P> +"You've said quite enough," Hazel cried. "If you have any more +insults, please get rid of them elsewhere. I think you are—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I don't care what you think of me," the girl interrupted +recklessly. "If I did I wouldn't be here. I'd hide behind the +conventional rules of the game and let you blunder along. But I can't. +I'm not gifted with your blind egotism. Whatever you are, that Bill of +yours loves you, and if you care anything for him, you should be with +him. I would, if I were lucky enough to stand in your shoes. I'd go +with him down into hell itself gladly if he wanted me to!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" Hazel gasped. "Are you clean mad?" +</P> + +<P> +"Shocked to death, aren't you?" Vesta fleered. "You can't understand, +can you? I love him—yes. I'm not ashamed to own it. I'm no +sentimental prude to throw up my hands in horror at a perfectly natural +emotion. But he is not for me. I dare say I couldn't give him an +added heartbeat if I tried. And I have a little too much +pride—strange as it may seem to you—to try, so long as he is chained +hand and foot to your chariot. But you're making him suffer. And I +care enough to want him to live all his days happily. He is a man, and +there are so few of them, real men. If you can make him happy I'd +compel you to do so, if I had the power. You couldn't understand that +kind of a love. Oh, I could choke you for your stupid disloyalty. I +could do almost anything that would spur you to action. I can't rid +myself of the hopeless, reckless mood he was in. There are so few of +his kind, the patient, strong, loyal, square-dealing men, with a +woman's tenderness and a lion's courage. Any woman should be proud and +glad to be his mate, to mother his children. And you—" +</P> + +<P> +She threw out her hands with a sudden, despairing gesture. The blue +eyes grew misty, and she hid her face in her palms. Before that +passionate outburst Hazel sat dumbly amazed, staring, uncertain. In a +second Vesta lifted her head defiantly. +</P> + +<P> +"I had no notion of breaking out like this when I came up," she said +quietly. "I was going to be very adroit. I intended to give you a +friendly boost along the right road, if I could. But it has all been +bubbling inside me for a long time. You perhaps think it very +unwomanly—but I don't care much what you think. My little heartache +is incidental, one of the things life deals us whether we will or not. +But if you care in the least for your husband, for God's sake make some +effort, some sacrifice of your own petty little desires, to make his +road a little pleasanter, a little less gray than it must be now. +You'll be well repaid—if you are the kind that must always be paid in +full. Don't be a stiff-necked idiot. That's all I wanted to say. +Good-by!" +</P> + +<P> +She was at the door when she finished. The click of the closing catch +stirred Hazel to speech and action. +</P> + +<P> +"Vesta, Vesta!" she cried, and ran out into the corridor. +</P> + +<P> +But Vesta Lorimer neither heeded nor halted. And Hazel went back to +her room, quivering. Sometimes the truth is bitter and stirs to wrath. +And mingled with other emotions was a dull pang of jealousy—the first +she had ever known. For Vesta Lorimer was beautiful beyond most women; +and she had but given ample evidence of the bigness of her soul. With +shamed tears creeping to her eyes, Hazel wondered if <I>she</I> could love +even Bill so intensely that she would drive another woman to his arms +that he might win happiness. +</P> + +<P> +But one thing stood out clear above that painful meeting. She was done +fighting against the blankness that seemed to surround her since Bill +went away. Slowly but steadily it had been forced upon her that much +which she deemed desirable, even necessary, was of little weight in the +balance with him. Day and night she longed for him, for his cheery +voice, the whimsical good humor of him, his kiss and his smile. +Indubitably Vesta Lorimer was right to term her a stiff-necked, selfish +fool. But if all folk were saturated with the essence of wisdom—well, +there was but one thing to be done. Silly pride had to go by the +board. If to face gayly a land she dreaded were the price of easing +his heartache—and her own—that price she would pay, and pay with a +grace but lately learned. +</P> + +<P> +She lay down on the lounge again. The old pains were back. And as she +endured, a sudden startling thought flashed across her mind. A +possibility?—Yes. She hurried to dress, wondering why it had not +before occurred to her, and, phoning up a taxi, rolled downtown to the +office of Doctor Hart. An hour or so later she returned. A picture of +her man stood on the mantel. She took it down and stared at it with a +tremulous smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Billy-boy, Billy-boy, I wish you knew," she whispered. "But I was +coming, anyway, Bill!" +</P> + +<P> +That evening, stirring about her preparations for the journey, she +paused, and wondered why, for the first time since Bill left, she felt +so utterly at peace. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap33"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HOME AGAIN +</H3> + + +<P> +Twelve months works many a change on a changing frontier. Hazel found +this so. When she came to plan her route she found the G. T. P. +bridging the last gap in a transcontinental system, its trains +westbound already within striking distance of Fort George. She could +board a sleeping car at Granville and detrain within a hundred miles of +the ancient trading post—with a fast river boat to carry her the +remaining distance. +</P> + +<P> +Fort George loomed up a jumbled area of houses and tents, log +buildings, frame structures yellow in their newness, strangers to paint +as yet. On every hand others stood in varying stages of erection. +Folks hurried about the sturdy beginning of a future greatness. And as +she left the boat and followed a new-laid walk of planks toward a +hotel, Jake Lauer stepped out of a store, squarely into her path. +</P> + +<P> +His round face lit up with a smile of recognition. And Hazel, fresh +from the long and lonesome journey, was equally glad to set eyes on a +familiar, a genuinely friendly face. +</P> + +<P> +"I am pleased to welgome you back to Gott's country, Mrs. Vagstaff," he +said. "Und let me carry dot suid case alretty." +</P> + +<P> +They walked two blocks to the King's Hotel, where Lauer's family was +housed. He was in for supplies, he told her, and, of course, his wife +and children accompanied him. +</P> + +<P> +"Not dat Gredda iss afraid. She iss so goot a man as I on der ranch +ven I am gone," he explained. "But for dem it iss a change. Und I +bring by der town a vaigonloat off bodadoes. By cosh, dem bodadoes iss +sell high." +</P> + +<P> +It flashed into Hazel's mind that here was a Heaven-sent opportunity to +reach the cabin without facing that hundred miles in the company of +chance-hired strangers. But she did not broach the subject at once. +Instead, she asked eagerly of Bill. Lauer told her that Bill had +tarried a few days at the cabin, and then struck out alone for the +mines. And he had not said when he would be back. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Lauer, unchanged from a year earlier, welcomed her with pleased +friendliness. And Jake left the two of them and the chubby kiddies in +the King's office while he betook himself about his business. Hazel +haled his wife and the children to her room as soon as one was assigned +to her. And there, almost before she knew it, she was murmuring +brokenly her story into an ear that listened with sympathy and +understanding. Only a woman can grasp some of a woman's needs. Gretta +Lauer patted Hazel's shoulder with a motherly hand, and bade her cheer +up. +</P> + +<P> +"Home's the place for you, dear," she said smilingly. "You just come +right along with us. Your man will come quick enough when he gets +word. And we'll take good care of you in the meantime. La, I'm all +excited over it. It's the finest thing could happen for you both. +Take it from me, dearie. I know. We've had our troubles, Jake and I. +And, seeing I'm only six months short of being a graduate nurse, you +needn't fear. Well, well!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll need to have food hauled in," Hazel reflected. "And some things +I brought with me. I wish Bill were here. I'm afraid I'll be a lot of +bother. Won't you be heavily loaded, as it is?" +</P> + +<P> +She recalled swiftly the odd, makeshift team that Lauer depended +on—the mule, lop-eared and solemn, "und Gretchen, der cow." She had +cash and drafts for over three thousand dollars on her person. She +wondered if it would offend the sturdy independence of these simple, +kindly neighbors, if she offered to supply a four-horse team and wagon +for their mutual use? But she had been forestalled there, she learned +in the next breath. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, bother nothing," Mrs. Lauer declared. "Why, we'd be ashamed if we +couldn't help a little. And far's the load goes, you ought to see the +four beautiful horses your husband let Jake have. You don't know how +much Jake appreciates it, nor what a fine man he thinks your husband +is. We needed horses so bad, and didn't have the money to buy. So Mr. +Wagstaff didn't say a thing but got the team for us, and Jake's paying +for them in clearing and plowing and making improvements on your land. +Honest, they could pull twice the load we'll have. There's a good +wagon road most of the way now. Quite a lot of settlers, too, as much +as fifty or sixty miles out. And we've got the finest garden you ever +saw. Vegetables enough to feed four families all winter. Oh, your old +cities! I never want to live in one again. Never a day have the +kiddies been sick. Suppose it is a bit out of the world? You're all +the more pleased when somebody does happen along. Folks is so +different in a new country like this. There's plenty for +everybody—and everybody helps, like neighbors ought to." +</P> + +<P> +Lauer came up after a time, and Hazel found herself unequivocally in +their hands. With the matter of transporting herself and supplies thus +solved, she set out to find Felix Courvoiseur—who would know how to +get word to Bill. He might come back to the cabin in a month or so; he +might not come back at all unless he heard from her. She was smitten +with a great fear that he might give her up as lost to him, and plunge +deeper into the wilderness in some mood of recklessness. And she +wanted him, longed for him, if only so that she could make amends. +</P> + +<P> +She easily found Courvoiseur, a tall, spare Frenchman, past middle age. +Yes, he could deliver a message to Bill Wagstaff; that is, he could +send a man. Bill Wagstaff was in the Klappan Range. +</P> + +<P> +"But if he should have left there?" Hazel suggested uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +"'E weel leave weeth W'itey Lewees word of w'ere 'e go," Courvoiseur +reassured her. "An' my man, w'ich ees my bruzzer-law, w'ich I can mos' +fully trus', 'e weel follow 'eem. So Beel 'e ees arrange. 'E ees say +mos' parteecular if madame ees come or weesh for forward message, geet +heem to me queeck. <I>Oui</I>. Long tam Beel ees know me. I am for depend +always." +</P> + +<P> +Courvoiseur kept a trader's stock of goods in a weather-beaten old log +house which sprawled a hundred feet back from the street. Thirty +years, he told her, he had kept that store in Fort George. She guessed +that Bill had selected him because he was a fixture. She sat down at +his counter and wrote her message. Just a few terse lines. And when +she had delivered it to Courvoiseur she went back to the hotel. There +was nothing now to do but wait. And with the message under way she +found herself impatient to reach the cabin, to spend the waiting days +where she had first found happiness. She could set her house in order +against her man's coming. And if the days dragged, and the great, lone +land seemed to close in and press inexorably upon her, she would have +to be patient, very patient. +</P> + +<P> +Jake was held up, waiting for supplies. Fort George suffered a sugar +famine. Two days later, the belated freight arrived. He loaded his +wagon, a ton of goods for himself, a like weight of Hazel's supplies +and belongings. A goodly load, but he drove out of Fort George with +four strapping bays arching their powerful necks, and champing on the +bit. +</P> + +<P> +"Four days ve vill make it by der ranch," Jake chuckled. "Mit der mule +und Gretchen, der cow, von veek it take me, mit half der loat." +</P> + +<P> +Four altogether pleasant and satisfying days they were to Hazel. The +worst of the fly pests were vanished for the season. A crisp touch of +frost sharpened the night winds. Indian summer hung its mellow haze +over the land. The clean, pungent air that sifted through the forests +seemed doubly sweet after the vitiated atmosphere of town. Fresh from +a gridiron of dusty streets and stone pavements, and but stepped, as +one might say, from days of imprisonment in the narrow confines of a +railway coach, she drank the winey air in hungry gulps, and joyed in +the soft yielding of the turf beneath her feet, the fern and pea-vine +carpet of the forest floor. +</P> + +<P> +It was her pleasure at night to sleep as she and Bill had slept, with +her face bared to the stars. She would draw her bed a little aside +from the camp fire and from the low seclusion of a thicket lie watching +the nimble flames at their merry dance, smiling lazily at the grotesque +shadows cast by Jake and his frau as they moved about the blaze. And +she would wake in the morning clear-headed, alert, grateful for the +pleasant woodland smells arising wholesomely from the fecund bosom of +the earth. +</P> + +<P> +Lauer pulled up before his own cabin at mid-afternoon of the fourth +day, unloaded his own stuff, and drove to his neighbor's with the rest. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll walk back after a little," Hazel told him, when he had piled her +goods in one corner of the kitchen. +</P> + +<P> +The rattle of the wagon died away. She was alone—at home. Her eyes +filled as she roved restlessly from kitchen to living-room and on into +the bedroom at the end. Bill had unpacked. The rugs were down, the +books stowed in familiar disarray upon their shelves, the bedding +spread in semi-disorder where he had last slept and gone away without +troubling to smooth it out in housewifely fashion. +</P> + +<P> +She came back to the living-room and seated herself in the big chair. +She had expected to be lonely, very lonely. But she was not. Perhaps +that would come later. For the present it seemed as if she had reached +the end of something, as if she were very tired, and had gratefully +come to a welcome resting place. She turned her gaze out the open door +where the forest fell away in vast undulations to a range of +snow-capped mountains purple in the autumn haze, and a verse that Bill +had once quoted came back to her: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Oh, to feel the Wind grow strong<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Where the Trail leaps down.</SPAN><BR> +I could never learn the way<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And wisdom of the Town."</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +She blinked. The town—it seemed to have grown remote, a fantasy in +which she had played a puppet part. But she was home again. If only +the gladness of it endured strong enough to carry her through whatever +black days might come to her there alone. +</P> + +<P> +She would gladly have cooked her supper in the kitchen fireplace, and +laid down to sleep under her own roof. It seemed the natural thing to +do. But she had not expected to find the cabin livably arranged, and +she had promised the Lauers to spend the night with them. So presently +she closed the door and walked away through the woods. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap34"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AFTER MANY DAYS +</H3> + + +<P> +September and October trooped past, and as they marched the willow +thickets and poplar groves grew yellow and brown, and carpeted the +floor of the woods with fallen leaves. Shrub and tree bared gaunt +limbs to every autumn wind. Only the spruce and pine stood forth in +their year-round habiliments of green. The days shortened steadily. +The nights grew long, and bitter with frost. Snow fell, blanketing +softly the dead leaves. Old Winter cracked his whip masterfully over +all the North. +</P> + +<P> +Day by day, between tasks, and often while she worked, Hazel's eyes +would linger on the edges of the clearing. Often at night she would +lift herself on elbow at some unexpected sound, her heart leaping wild +with expectation. And always she would lie down again, and sometimes +press her clenched hand to her lips to keep back the despairing cry. +Always she adjured herself to be patient, to wait doggedly as Bill +would have waited, to make due allowance for immensity of distance for +the manifold delays which might overtake a messenger faring across +those silent miles or a man hurrying to his home. Many things might +hold him back. But he would come. It was inconceivable that he might +not come. +</P> + +<P> +Meantime, with only a dim consciousness of the fact, she underwent a +marvelous schooling in adaptation, self-restraint. She had work of a +sort, tasks such as every housewife finds self-imposed in her own home. +She was seldom lonely. She marveled at that. It was unique in her +experience. All her old dread of the profound silence, the pathless +forests which infolded like a prison wall, distances which seemed +impossible of span, had vanished. In its place had fallen over her an +abiding sense of peace, of security. The lusty storm winds whistling +about the cabin sang a restful lullaby. When the wolves lifted their +weird, melancholy plaint to the cold, star-jeweled skies, she listened +without the old shudder. These things, which were wont to oppress her, +to send her imagination reeling along morbid ways, seemed but a natural +aspect of life, of which she herself was a part. +</P> + +<P> +Often, sitting before her glowing fireplace, watching a flame kindled +with her own hands with wood she herself had carried from the pile +outside, she pondered this. It defied her powers of self-analysis. +She could only accept it as a fact, and be glad. Granville and all +that Granville stood for had withdrawn to a more or less remote +background. She could look out over the frost-spangled forests and +feel that she lacked nothing—nothing save her mate. There was no +impression of transient abiding; no chafing to be elsewhere, to do +otherwise. It was home, she reflected; perhaps that was why. +</P> + +<P> +A simple routine served to fill her days. She kept her house shining, +she cooked her food, carried in her fuel. Except on days of forthright +storm she put on her snowshoes, and with a little rifle in the crook of +her arm prowled at random through the woods—partly because it gave her +pleasure to range sturdily afield, partly for the physical brace of +exertion in the crisp air. Otherwise she curled comfortably before the +fire-place, and sewed, or read something out of Bill's catholic +assortment of books. +</P> + +<P> +It was given her, also, to learn the true meaning of neighborliness, +that kindliness of spirit which is stifled by stress in the crowded +places, and stimulated by like stress amid surroundings where life is +noncomplex, direct, where cause and effect tread on each other's heels. +Every day, if she failed to drop into their cabin, came one of her +neighbors to see if all were well with her. Quite as a matter of +course Jake kept steadily replenished for her a great pile of firewood. +Or they would come, babies and all, bundled in furs of Jake's trapping, +jingling up of an evening behind the frisky bays. And while the bays +munched hay in Roaring Bill Wagstaff's stable, they would cluster about +the open hearth, popping corn for the children, talking, always with +cheerful optimism. +</P> + +<P> +Behind Lauer's mild blue eyes lurked a mind that burrowed incessantly +to the roots of things. He had lived and worked and read, and, +pondering it all, he had summed up a few of the verities. +</P> + +<P> +"Life, it iss giffen us, und ve must off it make der best ve can," he +said once to Hazel, fondling a few books he had borrowed to read at +home. "Life iss goot, yust der liffing off life, if only ve go not +astray afder der voolish dings—und if der self-breservation struggle +vears us not out so dot ve gannot enjoy being alife. So many iss +struggle und slave under terrible conditions. Und it iss largely +because off ignorance. Ve know not vot ve can do—und ve shrink vrom +der unknown. Here iss acres by der dousand vree to der man vot can off +it make use—und dousands vot liffs und dies und neffer hass a home. +Here iss goot, glean air—und in der shmoke und shmells und dirty +streets iss a ravage of tuberculosis. Der balance iss not true. Und +in der own vay der rich iss full off drouble—drunk mit eggcitement, +veary mit bleasures. Ach, der voods und mountains und streams, blenty +off food, und a kindly neighbor—iss not dot enough? Only der abnormal +vants more as dot. Und I dink der drouble iss largely dot der modern, +high-bressure cifilization makes for der abnormal, vedder a man iss a +millionaire or vorks in der brewery, contentment iss a state off der +mind—und if der mind vorks mit logic it vill content find in der +simple dings." +</P> + +<P> +It sounded like a pronouncement of Bill's. But Lauer did not often +grow serious. Mostly he was jovially cheerful, and his wife likewise. +The North had emancipated them, and they were loyal to the source of +their deliverance. And Hazel understood, because she herself had found +the wild land a benefactor, kindly in its silence, restful in its +forested peace, a cure for sickness of soul. Twice now it had rescued +her from herself. +</P> + +<P> +November and December went their appointed way—and still no word of +Bill. If now and then her pillow was wet she struggled mightily +against depression. She was not lonely in the dire significance of the +word—but she longed passionately for him. And she held fast to her +faith that he would come. +</P> + +<P> +The last of the old year she went little abroad, ventured seldom beyond +the clearing. And on New Year's Eve Jake Lauer's wife came to the +cabin to stay. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Hazel sat up, wide awake, on the instant. There was not the slightest +sound. She had been deep in sleep. Nevertheless she felt, rather than +knew, that some one was in the living-room. Perhaps the sound of the +door opening had filtered through her slumber. She hesitated an +instant, not through fear, because in the months of living alone fear +had utterly forsaken her; but hope had leaped so often, only to fall +sickeningly, that she was half persuaded it must be a dream. Still the +impression strengthened. She slipped out of bed. The door of the +bedroom stood slightly ajar. +</P> + +<P> +Bill stood before the fireplace, his shaggy fur cap pushed far back on +his head, his gauntlets swinging from the cord about his neck. She had +left a great bed of coals on the hearth, and the glow shone redly on +his frost-scabbed face. But the marks of bitter trail bucking, the +marks of frostbite, the stubby beard, the tiny icicles that still +clustered on his eyebrows; while these traces of hardship tugged at her +heart they were forgotten when she saw the expression that overshadowed +his face. Wonder and unbelief and longing were all mirrored there. +She took a shy step forward to see what riveted his gaze. And despite +the choking sensation in her throat she smiled—for she had taken off +her little, beaded house moccasins and left them lying on the bearskin +before the fire, and he was staring down at them like a man +fresh-wakened from a dream, unbelieving and bewildered. +</P> + +<A NAME="img-338"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-338.jpg" ALT="Bill stood before the fireplace, his shaggy fur cap pushed far back on his head." BORDER="2" WIDTH="408" HEIGHT="583"> +<H3> +[Illustration: Bill stood before the fireplace, <BR> +his shaggy fur cap pushed far back on his head.] +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<P> +With that she opened the door and ran to him. He started, as if she +had been a ghost. Then he opened his arms and drew her close to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Bill, Bill, what made you so long?" she whispered. "I guess it served +me right, but it seemed a never-ending time." +</P> + +<P> +"What made me so long?" he echoed, bending his rough cheek down against +the warm smoothness of hers. "Lord, <I>I</I> didn't know you wanted me. I +ain't no telepathist, hon. You never yeeped one little word since I +left. How long you been here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Since last September." She smiled up at him. "Didn't Courvoiseur's +man deliver a message from me to the mine? Didn't you come in answer +to my note?" +</P> + +<P> +"Great Caesar's ghost—since September—alone! You poor little girl!" +he murmured. "No, if you sent word to me through Courvoiseur I never +got it. Maybe something happened his man. I left the Klappan with the +first snow. Went poking aimlessly over around the Finlay River with a +couple of trappers. Couldn't settle down. Never heard a word from +you. I'd given you up. I just blew in this way by sheer accident. +Girl, girl, you don't know how good it is to see you again, to have +this warm body of yours cuddled up to me again. And you came right +here and planted yourself to wait till I turned up?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure!" She laughed happily. "But I sent you word, even if you never +got it. Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters now. You're +here, and I'm here, and— Oh, Billy-boy, I was an awful pig-headed +idiot. Do you think you can take another chance with me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Say"—he held her off at arm's length admiringly—"do you want to know +how strong I am for taking a chance with you? Well, I was on my way +out to flag the next train East, just to see—just to see if you still +cared two pins; to see if you still thought your game was better than +mine." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you don't have to take any eastbound train to find that out," +she cried gayly. "I'm here to tell you I care a lot more than any +number of pins. Oh, I've learned a lot in the last six months, Bill. +I had to hurt myself, and you, too. I had to get a jolt to jar me out +of my self-centered little orbit. I got it, and it did me good. And +it's funny. I came back here because I thought I ought to, because it +was our home, but rather dreading it. And I've been quite contented +and happy—only hungry, oh, so dreadfully hungry, for you." +</P> + +<P> +Bill kissed her. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't make any mistake in you, after all," he said. "You're a real +partner. You're the right stuff. I love you more than ever. If you +made a mistake you paid for it, like a dead-game sport. What's a few +months? We've all our life before us, and it's plain sailing now we've +got our bearings again." +</P> + +<P> +"Amen!" she whispered. "I—but, say, man of mine, you've been on the +trail, and I know what the trail is. You must be hungry. I've got all +kinds of goodies cooked in the kitchen. Take off your clothes, and +I'll get you something to eat." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll go you," he said. "I am hungry. Made a long mush to get here +for the night. I got six huskies running loose outside, so if you hear +'em scuffing around you'll know it's not the wolves. Say, it was some +welcome surprise to find a fire when I came in. Thought first somebody +traveling through had put up. Then I saw those slippers lying there. +That was sure making me take notice when you stepped out." +</P> + +<P> +He chuckled at the recollection. Hazel lit the lamp, and stirred up +the fire, plying it with wood. Then she slipped a heavy bath-robe over +her nightgown and went into the chilly kitchen, emerging therefrom +presently with a tray of food and a kettle of water to make coffee. +This she set on the fire. Wherever she moved Bill's eyes followed her +with a gleam of joy, tinctured with smiling incredulousness. When the +kettle was safely bestowed on the coals, he drew her on his knee. +There for a minute she perched in rich content. Then she rose. +</P> + +<P> +"Come very quietly with me, Bill," she whispered, with a fine air of +mystery. "I want to show you something." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure! What is it?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Come and see," she smiled, and took up the lamp. Bill followed +obediently. +</P> + +<P> +Close up beside her bed stood a small, square crib. Hazel set the lamp +on a table, and turning to the bundle of blankets which filled this new +piece of furniture, drew back one corner, revealing a round, +puckered-up infant face. +</P> + +<P> +"For the love of Mike!" Bill muttered. "Is it—is it—" +</P> + +<P> +"It's our son," she whispered proudly. "Born the tenth of +January—three weeks ago to-day. Don't, don't—you great bear—you'll +wake him." +</P> + +<P> +For Bill was bending down to peer at the tiny morsel of humanity, with +a strange, abashed smile on his face, his big, clumsy fingers touching +the soft, pink cheeks. And when he stood up he drew a long breath, and +laid one arm across her shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"Us two and the kid," he said whimsically. "It should be the hardest +combination in the world to bust. Are you happy, little person?" +</P> + +<P> +She nodded, clinging to him, wordlessly happy. And presently she +covered the baby's face, and they went back to sit before the great +fireplace, where the kettle bubbled cheerfully and the crackling blaze +sent forth its challenge to the bevy of frost sprites that held high +revel outside. +</P> + +<P> +And, after a time, the blaze died to a heap of glowing embers, and the +forerunning wind of a northeast storm soughed and whistled about a +house deep wrapped in contented slumber, a house no longer divided +against itself. +</P> + + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> +<hr class="full" noshade> + +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 19510-h.txt or 19510-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/5/1/19510">http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/5/1/19510</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: North of Fifty-Three + + +Author: Bertrand W. Sinclair + + + +Release Date: October 9, 2006 [eBook #19510] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 19510-h.htm or 19510-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/5/1/19510/19510-h/19510-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/5/1/19510/19510-h.zip) + + + + + +NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE + +by + +BERTRAND W. SINCLAIR + +Author of +The Land of Frozen Suns, Etc. + +With Illustrations by Anton Otto Fischer + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Oh!" she gasped. "Why--it's gold!"] + + + + +New York +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers +Copyright, 1914, +by Little, Brown, and Company. +All rights reserved. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTERS + + I. WHICH INTRODUCES A LADY AND TWO GENTLEMEN + II. HEART, HAND--AND POCKETBOOK + III. "I DO GIVE AND BEQUEATH" + IV. AN EXPLANATION DEMANDED + V. THE WAY OF THE WORLD AT LARGE + VI. CARIBOO MEADOWS + VII. A DIFFERENT SORT OF MAN + VIII. IN DEEP WATER + IX. THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT + X. A LITTLE PERSONAL HISTORY + XI. WINTER--AND A TRUCE + XII. THE FIRES OF SPRING + XIII. THE OUT TRAIL + XIV. THE DRONE OF THE HIVE + XV. AN ENDING AND A BEGINNING + XVI. A BRIEF TIME OF PLANNING + XVII. EN ROUTE + XVIII. THE WINTERING PLACE + XIX. FOUR WALLS AND A ROOF + XX. BOREAS CHANTS HIS LAY + XXI. JACK FROST WITHDRAWS + XXII. THE STRIKE + XXIII. THE STRESS OF THE TRAIL + XXIV. NEIGHBORS + XXV. THE DOLLAR CHASERS + XXVI. A BUSINESS PROPOSITION + XXVII. A BUSINESS JOURNEY + XXVIII. THE BOMB + XXIX. THE NOTE DISCORDANT + XXX. THE AFTERMATH + XXXI. A LETTER FROM BILL + XXXII. THE SPUR + XXXIII. HOME AGAIN + XXXIV. AFTER MANY DAYS + + + + +List of Illustrations + + + "Oh!" she gasped. "Why--it's gold!" . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ + + Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, resting one + hand on the muzzle of his grounded rifle + + "Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared." + + Bill stood before the fireplace, his shaggy fur cap pushed far + back on his head + + + + +NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE + + +CHAPTER I + +WHICH INTRODUCES A LADY AND TWO GENTLEMEN + +Dressed in a plain white shirt waist and an equally plain black cloth +skirt, Miss Hazel Weir, on week days, was merely a unit in the office +force of Harrington & Bush, implement manufacturers. Neither in +personality nor in garb would a casual glance have differentiated her +from the other female units, occupied at various desks. A close +observer might have noticed that she was a bit younger than the others, +possessed of a clear skin and large eyes that seemed to hold all the +shades between purple and gray--eyes, moreover, that had not yet begun +to weaken from long application to clerical work. A business office is +no place for a woman to parade her personal charms. The measure of her +worth there is simply the measure of her efficiency at her machine or +ledgers. So that if any member of the firm had been asked what sort of +a girl Miss Hazel Weir might be, he would probably have replied--and +with utmost truth--that Miss Weir was a capable stenographer. + +But when Saturday evening released Miss Hazel Weir from the plain brick +office building, she became, until she donned her working clothes at +seven A. M. Monday morning, quite a different sort of a person. In +other words, she chucked the plain shirt waist and the plain skirt into +the discard, got into such a dress as a normal girl of twenty-two +delights to put on, and devoted a half hour or so to "doing" her hair. +Which naturally effected a more or less complete transformation, a +transformation that was subjective as well as purely objective. For +Miss Weir then became an entity at which few persons of either sex +failed to take a second glance. + +Upon a certain Saturday night Miss Weir came home from an informal +little party escorted by a young man. They stopped at the front gate. + +"I'll be here at ten sharp," said he. "And you get a good beauty sleep +to-night, Hazel. That confounded office! I hate to think of you +drudging away at it. I wish we were ready to--" + +"Oh, bother the office!" she replied lightly. "I don't think of it out +of office hours. Anyway, I don't mind. It doesn't tire me. I _will_ +be ready at ten _this_ time. Good night, dear." + +"Good night, Hazie," he whispered. "Here's a kiss to dream on." + +Miss Weir broke away from him laughingly, ran along the path, and up +the steps, kissed her finger-tips to the lingering figure by the gate, +and went in. + +"Bed," she soliloquized, "is the place for me right quickly if I'm +going to be up and dressed and have that lunch ready by ten o'clock. I +wish I weren't such a sleepyhead--or else that I weren't a 'pore +wurrkin' gurl.'" + +At which last conceit she laughed softly. Because, for a "pore +wurrkin' gurl," Miss Weir was fairly well content with her lot. She +had no one dependent on her--a state of affairs which, if it +occasionally leads to loneliness, has its compensations. Her salary as +a stenographer amply covered her living expenses, and even permitted +her to put by a few dollars monthly. She had grown up in Granville. +She had her own circle of friends. So that she was comfortable, even +happy, in the present--and Jack Barrow proposed to settle the problem +of her future; with youth's optimism, they two considered it already +settled. Six months more, and there was to be a wedding, a +three-weeks' honeymoon, and a final settling down in a little cottage +on the West Side; everybody in Granville who amounted to anything lived +on the West Side. Then she would have nothing to do but make the home +nest cozy, while Jack kept pace with a real-estate business that was +growing beyond his most sanguine expectations. + +She threw her light wraps over the back of a chair, and, standing +before her dresser, took the multitude of pins out of her hair and +tumbled it, a cloudy black mass, about her shoulders. Occupying the +center of the dresser, in a leaning silver frame, stood a picture of +Jack Barrow. She stood looking at it a minute, smiling absently. It +was spring, and her landlady's daughter had set a bunch of wild flowers +in a jar beside the picture. Hazel picked out a daisy and plucked away +the petals one by one. + +"He loves me--he loves me not--he loves me--" Her lips formed the +words inaudibly, as countless lips have formed them in love's history, +and the last petal fluttered away at "not." + +She smiled. + +"I wonder if that's an omen?" she murmured. "Pshaw! What a silly +idea! I'm going to bed. Good night, Johnny boy." + +She kissed her finger-tips to him again across the rooftops all grimed +with a winter's soot, and within fifteen minutes Miss Weir was sound +asleep. + + +She gave the lie, for once, to the saying that a woman is never ready +at the appointed time by being on the steps a full ten minutes before +Jack Barrow appeared. They walked to the corner and caught a car, and +in the span of half an hour got off at Granville Park. + +The city fathers, hampered in days gone by with lack of municipal +funds, had left the two-hundred-acre square of the park pretty much as +nature made it; that is to say, there was no ornate parking, no attempt +at landscape gardening. Ancient maples spread their crooked arms +untrimmed, standing in haphazard groves. Wherever the greensward +nourished, there grew pink-tipped daisies and kindred flowers of the +wild. It was gutted in the middle with a ravine, the lower end of +which, dammed by an earth embankment, formed a lake with the inevitable +swans and other water-fowl. But, barring the lake and a wide drive +that looped and twined through the timber, Granville Park was a bit of +the old Ontario woodland, and as such afforded a pleasant place to loaf +in the summer months. It was full of secluded nooks, dear to the +hearts of young couples. And upon a Sunday the carriages of the +wealthy affected the smooth drive. + +When Jack Barrow and Hazel had finished their lunch under the trees, in +company with a little group of their acquaintances, Hazel gathered +scraps of bread and cake into a paper bag. + +Barrow whispered to her: "Let's go down and feed the swans. I'd just +as soon be away from the crowd." + +She nodded assent, and they departed hastily lest some of the others +should volunteer their company. It took but a short time to reach the +pond. They found a log close to the water's edge, and, taking a seat +there, tossed morsels to the birds and chattered to each other. + +"Look," said Barrow suddenly; "that's us ten years from now." + +A carriage passed slowly, a solemn, liveried coachman on the box, a +handsome, smooth-shaven man of thirty-five and a richly gowned woman +leaning back and looking out over the pond with bored eyes. And that +last, the half-cynical, half-contemptuous expression on the two faces, +impressed Hazel Weir far more than the showy equipage, the outward +manifestation of wealth. + +"I hope not," she returned impulsively. + +"Hope not!" Barrow echoed. "Those people are worth a barrel of money. +Wouldn't you like your own carriage, and servants, and income enough to +have everything you wanted?" + +"Of course," Hazel answered. "But they don't look as if they really +enjoyed it." + +"Fiddlesticks!" Barrow smilingly retorted. "Everybody enjoys luxury." + +"Well, one should," Hazel admitted. But she still held to the +impression that the couple passing got no such pleasure out of their +material possessions as Jack seemed to think. It was merely an +intuitive divination. She could not have found any basis from which to +argue the point. But she was very sure that she would not have changed +places with the woman in the carriage, and her hand stole out and gave +his a shy little squeeze. + +"Look," she murmured; "here's another of the plutocrats. One of my +esteemed employers, if you please. You'll notice that he's walking and +looking at things just like us ordinary, everyday mortals." + +Barrow glanced past her, and saw a rather tall, middle-aged man, his +hair tinged with gray, a fine-looking man, dressed with exceeding +nicety, even to a flower in his coat lapel, walking slowly along the +path that bordered the pond. He stopped a few yards beyond them, and +stood idly glancing over the smooth stretch of water, his gloved hands +resting on the knob of a silver-mounted cane. + +Presently his gaze wandered to them, and the cool, well-bred stare +gradually gave way to a slightly puzzled expression. He moved a step +or two and seated himself on a bench. Miss Weir became aware that he +was looking at her most of the time as she sat casting the bits of +bread to the swans and ducks. It made her self-conscious. She did not +know why she should be of any particular interest. + +"Let's walk around a little," she suggested. The last of the crumbs +were gone. + +"All right," Barrow assented. "Let's go up the ravine." + +They left the log. Their course up the ravine took them directly past +the gentleman on the bench. And when they came abreast of him, he rose +and lifted his hat at the very slight inclination of Miss Weir's head. + +"How do you do, Miss Weir?" said he. "Quite a pleasant afternoon." + +To the best of Hazel's knowledge, Mr. Andrew Bush was little given to +friendly recognition of his employees, particularly in public. But he +seemed inclined to be talkative; and, as she caught a slightly +inquiring glance at her escort, she made the necessary introduction. +So for a minute or two the three of them stood there exchanging polite +banalities. Then Mr. Bush bowed and passed on. + +"He's one of the biggest guns in Granville, they say," Jack observed. +"I wouldn't mind having some of his business to handle. He started +with nothing, too, according to all accounts. Now, that's what I call +success." + +"Oh, yes, in a business way he's a success," Hazel responded. "But +he's awfully curt most of the time around the office. I wonder what +made him thaw out so to-day?" + +And that question recurred to her mind again in the evening, when Jack +had gone home and she was sitting in her own room. She wheeled her +chair around and took a steady look at herself in the mirror. A woman +may never admit extreme plainness of feature, and she may deprecate her +own fairness, if she be possessed of fairness, but she seldom has any +illusions about one or the other. She knows. Hazel Weir knew that she +was far above the average in point of looks. If she had never taken +stock of herself before, the reflection facing her now was sufficient +to leave no room for doubt on the score of beauty. Her skin was +smooth, delicate in texture, and as delicately tinted. The tan pongee +dress she wore set off her dark hair and expressive, bluish-gray eyes. + +She was smiling at herself just as she had been smiling at Jack Barrow +while they sat on the log and fed the swans. And she made an amiable +grin at the reflection in the glass. But even though Miss Weir was +twenty-two and far from unsophisticated, it did not strike her that the +transition of herself from a demure, business-like office person in +sober black and white to a radiant creature with the potent influences +of love and spring brightening her eyes and lending a veiled caress to +her every supple movement, satisfactorily accounted for the sudden +friendliness of Mr. Andrew Bush. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +HEART, HAND--AND POCKETBOOK + +Miss Weir was unprepared for what subsequently transpired as a result +of that casual encounter with the managing partner of the firm. By the +time she went to work on Monday morning she had almost forgotten the +meeting in Granville Park. And she was only reminded of it when, at +nine o'clock, Mr. Andrew Bush walked through the office, greeting the +force with his usual curt nod and inclusive "good morning" before he +disappeared behind the ground-glass door lettered "Private." With the +weekday he had apparently resumed his business manner. + +Hazel's work consisted largely of dictation from the shipping manager, +letters relating to outgoing consignments of implements. She was rapid +and efficient, and, having reached the zenith of salary paid for such +work, she expected to continue in the same routine until she left +Harrington & Bush for good. + +It was, therefore, something of a surprise to be called into the office +of the managing partner on Tuesday afternoon. Bush's private +stenographer sat at her machine in one corner. + +Mr. Bush turned from his desk at Hazel's entrance. + +"Miss Weir," he said, "I wish you to take some letters." + +Hazel went back for her notebook, wondering mildly why she should be +called upon to shoulder a part of Nelly Morrison's work, and a trifle +dubious at the prospect of facing the rapid-fire dictation Mr. Bush was +said to inflict upon his stenographer now and then. She had the +confidence of long practice, however, and knew that she was equal to +anything in reason that he might give her. + +When she was seated, Bush took up a sheaf of letters, and dictated +replies. Though rapid, his enunciation was perfectly clear, and Hazel +found herself getting his words with greater ease than she had expected. + +"That's all, Miss Weir," he said, when he reached the last letter. +"Bring those in for verification and signature as soon as you can get +them done." + +In the course of time she completed the letters and took them back. +Bush glanced over each, and appended his signature. + +"That's all, Miss Weir," he said politely. "Thank you." + +And Hazel went back to her machine, wondering why she had been +requested to do those letters when Nelly Morrison had nothing better to +do than sit picking at her type faces with a toothpick. + +She learned the significance of it the next morning, however, when the +office boy told her that she was wanted by Mr. Bush. This time when +she entered Nelly Morrison's place was vacant. Bush was going through +his mail. He waved her to a chair. + +"Just a minute," he said. + +Presently he wheeled from the desk and regarded her with disconcerting +frankness--as if he were appraising her, point by point, so to speak. + +"My--ah--dictation to you yesterday was in the nature of a try-out, +Miss Weir," he finally volunteered. "Miss Morrison has asked to be +transferred to our Midland branch. Mr. Allan recommended you. You are +a native of Granville, I understand?" + +"Yes," Hazel answered, wondering what that had to do with the position +Nelly Morrison had vacated. + +"In that case you will not likely be desirous of leaving suddenly," he +went on. "The work will not be hard, but I must have some one +dependable and discreet, and careful to avoid errors. I think you will +manage it very nicely if you--ah--have no objection to giving up the +more general work of the office for this. The salary will be +considerably more." + +"If you consider that my work will be satisfactory," Miss Weir began. + +"I don't think there's any doubt on that score. You have a good record +in the office," he interrupted smilingly, and Hazel observed that he +could be a very agreeable and pleasant-speaking gentleman when he +chose--a manner not altogether in keeping with her former knowledge of +him--and she had been with the firm nearly two years. "Now, let us get +to work and clean up this correspondence." + +Thus her new duties began. There was an air of quiet in the private +office, a greater luxury of appointment, which suited Miss Hazel Weir +to a nicety. The work was no more difficult than she had been +accustomed to doing--a trifle less in volume, and more exacting in +attention to detail, and necessarily more confidential, for Mr. Andrew +Bush had his finger-tips on the pulsing heart of a big business. + +Hazel met Nelly Morrison the next day while on her way home to lunch. + +"Well, how goes the new job?" quoth Miss Morrison. + +"All right so far," Hazel smiled. "Mr. Bush said you were going to +Midland." + +"Leaving for there in the morning," said Nelly. "I've been wanting to +go for a month, but Mr. Bush objected to breaking in a new girl--until +just the other day. I'm sort of sorry to go, too, and I don't suppose +I'll have nearly so good a place. For one thing, I'll not get so much +salary as I had with Mr. Bush. But mamma's living in Midland, and two +of my brothers work there. I'd much rather live at home than room and +live in a trunk. I can have a better time even on less a week." + +"Well, I hope you get along nicely," Hazel proffered. + +"Oh, I will. Leave that to me," Miss Morrison laughed. "By the way, +what do you think of Mr. Bush, anyway? But of course you haven't had +much to do with him yet. You'll find him awfully nice and polite, but, +my, he can be cutting when he gets irritated! I've known him to do +some awfully mean things in a business way. I wouldn't want to get him +down on me. I think he'd hold a grudge forever." + +They walked together until Hazel turned into the street which led to +her boarding place. Nelly Morrison chattered principally of Mr. Bush. +No matter what subject she opened up, she came back to discussion of +her employer. Hazed gathered that she had found him rather exacting, +and also that she was inclined to resent his curt manner. Withal, +Hazel knew Nelly Morrison to be a first-class stenographer, and found +herself wondering how long it would take the managing partner to find +occasion for raking _her_ over the coals. + +As the days passed, she began to wonder whether Miss Morrison had been +quite correct in her summing up of Mr. Andrew Bush. She was not a +great deal in his company, for unless attending to the details of +business Mr. Bush kept himself in a smaller office opening out of the +one where she worked. Occasionally the odor of cigar smoke escaped +therefrom, and in that inner sanctum he received his most important +callers. Whenever he was in Miss Weir's presence, however, he +manifested none of the disagreeable characteristics that Nelly Morrison +had ascribed to him. + +The size of the check which Hazel received in her weekly envelope was +increased far beyond her expectations. Nelly Morrison had drawn twenty +dollars a week. Miss Hazel Weir drew twenty-five--a substantial +increase over what she had received in the shipping department. And +while she wondered a trifle at the voluntary raising of her salary, it +served to make her anxious to competently fill the new position, so +long as she worked for wages. With that extra money there were plenty +of little things she could get for the home she and Jack Barrow had +planned. + +Things moved along in routine channels for two months or more before +Hazel became actively aware that a subtle change was growing manifest +in the ordinary manner of Mr. Andrew Bush. She shrugged her shoulders +at the idea at first. But she was a woman; moreover, a woman of +intelligence, her perceptive faculties naturally keen. + +The first symptom was flowers, dainty bouquets of which began to appear +on his desk. Coincident with this, Mr. Bush evinced an inclination to +drift into talk on subjects nowise related to business. Hazel accepted +the tribute to her sex reluctantly, giving him no encouragement to +overstep the normal bounds of cordiality. She was absolutely sure of +herself and of her love for Jack Barrow. Furthermore, Mr. Andrew Bush, +though well preserved, was drawing close to fifty--and she was +twenty-two. That in itself reassured her. If he had been thirty, Miss +Weir might have felt herself upon dubious ground. He admired her as a +woman. She began to realize that. And no woman ever blames a man for +paying her that compliment, no matter what she may say to the contrary. +Particularly when he does not seek to annoy her by his admiration. + +So long as Mr. Bush confined himself to affable conversation, to sundry +gifts of hothouse flowers, and only allowed his feelings outlet in +certain telltale glances when he thought she could not see. Hazel felt +disinclined to fly from what was at worst a possibility. + +Thus the third month of her tenure drifted by, and beyond the telltale +glances aforesaid, Mr. Bush remained tentatively friendly and nothing +more. Hazel spent her Sundays as she had spent them for a year +past--with Jack Barrow; sometimes rambling afoot in the country or in +the park, sometimes indulging in the luxury of a hired buggy for a +drive. Usually they went alone; occasionally with a party of young +people like themselves. + +But Mr. Bush took her breath away at a time and in a manner totally +unexpected. He finished dictating a batch of letters one afternoon, +and sat tapping on his desk with a pencil. Hazel waited a second or +two, expecting him to continue, her eyes on her notes, and at the +unbroken silence she looked up, to find him staring fixedly at her. +There was no mistaking the expression on his face. Hazel flushed and +shrank back involuntarily. She had hoped to avoid that. It could not +be anything but unpleasant. + +She had small chance to indulge in reflection, for at her first +self-conscious move he reached swiftly and caught her hand. + +"Hazel," he said bluntly, "will you marry me?" + +Miss Weir gasped. Coming without warning, it dumfounded her. And +while her first natural impulse was to answer a blunt "No," she was +flustered, and so took refuge behind a show of dignity. + +"Mr. Bush!" she protested, and tried to release her hand. + +But Mr. Bush had no intention of allowing her to do that. + +"I'm in deadly earnest," he said. "I've loved you ever since that +Sunday I saw you in the park feeding the swans. I want you to be my +wife. Will you?" + +"I'm awfully sorry," Hazel stammered. She was just the least bit +frightened. The man who stared at her with burning eyes and spoke to +her in a voice that quivered with emotion was so different from the +calm, repressed individual she had known as her employer. "Why, +you're----" The thing that was uppermost in her mind, and what she +came near saying, was: "You're old enough to be my father." And beside +him there instantly flashed a vision of Jack Barrow. Of course it was +absurd--even though she appreciated the honor. But she did not finish +the sentence that way. "I don't--oh, it's simply impossible. I +couldn't think of such a thing." + +"Why not?" he asked. "I love you. You know that--you can see it, +can't you?" He leaned a little nearer, and forced her to meet his +gaze. "I can make you happy; I can make you love me. I can give you +all that a woman could ask." + +"Yes, but--" + +He interrupted her quickly. "Perhaps I've surprised and confused you +by my impulsiveness," he continued. "But I've had no chance to meet +you socially. Sitting here in the office, seeing you day after day, +I've had to hold myself in check. And a man only does that so long, +and no longer. Perhaps right now you don't feel as I do, but I can +teach you to feel that way. I can give you everything--money, social +position, everything that's worth having--and love. I'm not an +empty-headed boy. I can make you love me." + +"You couldn't," Hazel answered flatly. There was a note of dominance +in that last statement that jarred on her. Mr. Bush was too sure of +his powers. "And I have no desire to experiment with my feelings as +you suggest--not for all the wealth and social position in the world. +I would have to love a man to think of marrying him--and I do. But you +aren't the man. I appreciate the compliment of your offer, and I'm +sorry to hurt you, but I can't marry you." + +He released her hand. Miss Weir found herself suddenly shaky. Not +that she was afraid, or had any cause for fear, but the nervous tension +somehow relaxed when she finished speaking so frankly. + +His face clouded. "You are engaged?" + +"Yes." + +He got up and stood over her. "To some self-centered cub--some puny +egotist in his twenties, who'll make you a slave to his needs and +whims, and discard you for another woman when you've worn out your +youth and beauty," he cried. "But you won't marry him. I won't let +you!" + +Miss Weir rose. "I think I shall go home," she said steadily. + +"You shall do nothing of the sort! There is no sense in your running +away from me and giving rise to gossip--which will hurt yourself only." + +"I am not running away, but I can't stay here and listen to such things +from you. It's impossible, under the circumstances, for me to continue +working here, so I may as well go now." + +Bush stepped past her and snapped the latch on the office door. "I +shan't permit it," he said passionately. "Girl, you don't seem to +realize what this means to me. I want you--and I'm going to have you!" + +"Please don't be melodramatic, Mr. Bush." + +"Melodramatic! If it is melodrama for a man to show a little genuine +feeling, I'm guilty. But I was never more in earnest in my life. I +want a chance to win you. I value you above any woman I have ever met. +Most women that--" + +"Most women would jump at the chance," Hazel interrupted. "Well, I'm +not most women. I don't consider myself as a marketable commodity, nor +my looks as an aid to driving a good bargain in a matrimonial way. I +simply don't care for you as you would want me to--and I'm very sure I +never would. And, seeing that you do feel that way, it's better that +we shouldn't be thrown together as we are here. That's why I'm going." + +"That is to say, you'll resign because I've told you I care for you and +proposed marriage?" he remarked. + +"Exactly. It's the only thing to do under the circumstances." + +"Give me a chance to show you that I can make you happy," he pleaded. +"Don't leave. Stay here where I can at least see you and speak to you. +I won't annoy you. And you can't tell. After you get over this +surprise you might find yourself liking me better." + +"That's just the trouble," Hazel pointed out. "If I were here you +would be bringing this subject up in spite of yourself. And that can +only cause pain. I can't stay." + +"I think you had better reconsider that," he said; and a peculiar--an +ugly--light crept into his eyes, "unless you desire to lay yourself +open to being the most-talked-of young woman in this town, where you +were born, where all your friends live. Many disagreeable things might +result." + +"That sounds like a threat, Mr. Bush. What do you mean?" + +"I mean just what I say. I will admit that mine is, perhaps, a selfish +passion. If you insist on making me suffer, I shall do as much for +you. I believe in paying all debts in full, even with high interest. +There are two characteristics of mine which may not have come to your +attention: I never stop struggling for what I want. And I never +forgive or forget an injury or an insult." + +"Well?" Hazel was beginning to see a side of Mr. Andrew Bush hitherto +unsuspected. + +"Well?" he repeated. "If you drive me to it, you will find yourself +drawing the finger of gossip. Also, you will find yourself unable to +secure a position in Granville. Also, you may find yourself losing +the--er--regard of this--ah--fortunate individual upon whom you have +bestowed your affections; but you'll never lose mine," he burst out +wildly. "When you get done butting your head against the wall that +will mysteriously rise in your way, I'll be waiting for you. That's +how I love. I've never failed in anything I ever undertook, and I +don't care how I fight, fair or foul, so that I win." + +"This isn't the fifteenth century," Hazel let her indignation flare, +"and I'm not at all afraid of any of the things you mention. Even if +you could possibly bring these things about, it would only make me +despise you, which I'm in a fair way to do now. Even if I weren't +engaged, I'd never think of marrying a man old enough to be my +father--a man whose years haven't given him a sense of either dignity +or decency. Wealth and social position don't modify gray hairs and +advancing age. Your threats are an insult. This isn't the stone age. +Even if it were," she concluded cuttingly, "you'd stand a poor chance +of winning a woman against a man like--well--" She shrugged her +shoulders, but she was thinking of Jack Barrow's broad shoulders, and +the easy way he went up a flight of stairs, three steps at a time. +"Well, any _young_ man." + +With that thrust, Miss Hazel Weir turned to the rack where hung her hat +and coat. She was thoroughly angry, and her employment in that office +ended then and there so far as she was concerned. + +Bush caught her by the shoulders before she took a second step. + +"Gray hairs and advancing age!" he said. "So I strike you as +approaching senility, do I? I'll show you whether I'm the worn-out +specimen you seem to think I am. Do you think I'll give you up just +because I've made you angry? Why, I love you the more for it; it only +makes me the more determined to win you." + +"You can't. I dislike you more every second. Take your hands off me, +please. Be a gentleman--if you can." + +For answer he caught her up close to him, and there was no sign of +decadent force in the grip of his arms. He kissed her; and Hazel, in +blind rage, freed one arm, and struck at him man fashion, her hand +doubled into a small fist. By the grace of chance, the blow landed on +his nose. There was force enough behind it to draw blood. He stood +back and fumbled for his handkerchief. Something that sounded like an +oath escaped him. + +Hazel stared, aghast, astounded. She was not at all sorry; she was +perhaps a trifle ashamed. It seemed unwomanly to strike. But the +humor of the thing appealed to her most strongly of all. In spite of +herself, she smiled as she reached once more for her hat. And this +time Mr. Bush did not attempt to restrain her. + +She breathed a sigh of relief when she had gained the street, and she +did not in the least care if her departure during business hours +excited any curiosity in the main office. Moreover, she was doubly +glad to be away from Bush. The expression on his face as he drew back +and stanched his bleeding nose had momentarily chilled her. + +"He looked perfectly devilish," she told herself. "My, I loathe that +man! He _is_ dangerous. Marry him? The idea!" + +She knew that she must have cut him deeply in a man's tenderest +spot--his self-esteem. But just how well she had gauged the look and +possibilities of Mr. Andrew Bush, Hazel scarcely realized. + +"I won't tell Jack," she reflected. "He'd probably want to thrash him. +And that _would_ stir up a lot of horrid talk. Dear me, that's one +experience I don't want repeated. I wonder if he made court to his +first wife in that high-handed, love-me-or-I'll-beat-you-to-death +fashion?" + +She laughed when she caught herself scrubbing vigorously with her +handkerchief at the place where his lips had touched her cheek. She +was primitive enough in her instincts to feel a trifle glad of having +retaliated in what her training compelled her to consider a "perfectly +hoydenish" manner. But she could not deny that it had proved +wonderfully effective. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +"I DO GIVE AND BEQUEATH" + +When Jack Barrow called again, which happened to be that very evening, +Hazel told him simply that she had left Harrington & Bush, without +entering into any explanation except the general one that she had found +it impossible to get on with Mr. Bush in her new position. And Jack, +being more concerned with her than with her work, gave the matter scant +consideration. + +This was on a Friday. The next forenoon Hazel went downtown. When she +returned, a little before eleven, the maid of all work was putting the +last touches to her room. The girl pointed to an oblong package on a +chair. + +"That came for you a little while ago, Miss Weir," she said. "Mr. +Bush's carriage brought it." + +"Mr. Bush's carriage!" Hazel echoed. + +"Yes'm. Regular swell turnout, with a footman in brown livery. My, +you could see the girls peeking all along the square when it stopped at +our door. It quite flustered the missus." + +The girl lingered a second, curiosity writ large on her countenance. +Plainly she wished to discover what Miss Hazel Weir would be getting in +a package that was delivered in so aristocratic a manner. But Hazel +was in no mood to gratify any one's curiosity. She was angry at the +presumption of Mr. Andrew Bush. It was an excellent way of subjecting +her to remark. And it did not soothe her to recollect that he had +threatened that very thing. + +She drew off her gloves, and, laying aside her hat, picked up a +newspaper, and began to read. The girl, with no excuse for lingering, +reluctantly gathered up her broom and dustpan, and departed. When she +was gone, and not till then, Miss Weir investigated the parcel. + +Roses--two dozen long-stemmed La Frances--filled the room with their +delicate odor when she removed the pasteboard cover. And set edgewise +among the stems she found his card. Miss Weir turned up her small nose. + +"I wonder if he sends these as a sort of peace offering?" she snorted. +"I wonder if a few hours of reflection has made him realize just how +exceedingly caddish he acted? Well, Mr. Bush, I'll return your +unwelcome gift--though they are beautiful flowers." + +And she did forthwith, squandering forty cents on a messenger boy to +deliver them to Mr. Bush at his office. She wished him to labor under +no misapprehension as to her attitude. + +The next day--Sunday--she spent with Jack Barrow on a visit to his +cousin in a near-by town. They parted, as was their custom, at the +door. It was still early in the evening--eight-thirty, or +thereabout--and Hazel went into the parlor on the first floor. Mr. +Stout and one of her boarders sat there chatting, and at Hazel's +entrance the landlady greeted her with a startling bit of news: + +"Evenin', Miss Weir. 'Ave you 'eard about Mr. Bush, pore gentleman?" +Mrs. Stout was very English. + +"Mr. Bush? No. What about him?" Hazel resented Mr. Bush, his name, +and his affairs being brought to her attention at every turn. She +desired nothing so much since that scene in the office as to ignore his +existence. + +"'E was 'urt shockin' bad this awft'noon," Mrs. Stout related. "Out +'orseback ridin', and 'is 'orse ran away with 'im, and fell on 'im. +Fell all of a 'eap, they say. Terrible--terrible! The pore man isn't +expected to live. 'Is back's broke, they say. W'at a pity! Shockin' +accident, indeed." + +Miss Weir voiced perfunctory sympathy, as was expected of her, seeing +that she was an employee of the firm--or had been lately. But close +upon that she escaped to her own room. She did not relish sitting +there discussing Mr. Andrew Bush. Hazel lacked nothing of womanly +sympathy, but he had forfeited that from her. + +Nevertheless she kept thinking of him long after she went to bed. She +was not at all vindictive, and his misfortune, the fact--if the report +were true--that he was facing his end, stirred her pity. She could +guess that he would suffer more than some men; he would rebel bitterly +against anything savoring of extinction. And she reflected that his +love for her was very likely gone by the board now that he was elected +to go the way of all flesh. + +The report of his injury was verified in the morning papers. By +evening it had pretty well passed out of Hazel's mind. She had more +pleasant concerns. Jack Barrow dropped in about six-thirty to ask if +she wanted to go with him to a concert during the week. They were +sitting in the parlor, by a front window, chattering to each other, but +not so engrossed that they failed to notice a carriage drawn by two +splendid grays pull up at the front gate. The footman, in brown +livery, got down and came to the door. Hazel knew the carriage. She +had seen Mr. Andrew Bush abroad in it many a time. She wondered if +there was some further annoyance in store for her, and frowned at the +prospect. + +She heard Mrs. Stout answer the bell in person. There was a low mumble +of voices. Then the landlady appeared in the parlor doorway, the +footman behind her. + +"This is the lady." Mrs. Stout indicated Hazel. "A message for you, +Miss Weir." + +The liveried person bowed and extended an envelope. "I was instructed +to deliver this to you personally," he said, and lingered as if he +looked for further instructions. + +Hazel looked at the envelope. She could not understand why, under the +circumstances, any message should come to her through such a medium. +But there was her name inscribed. She glanced up. Mrs. Stout gazed +past the footman with an air of frank anticipation. Jack also was +looking. But the landlady caught Hazel's glance and backed out the +door, and Hazel opened the letter. + +The note was brief and to the point: + + +MISS WEIR: Mr. Bush, being seriously injured and unable to write, bids +me say that he is very anxious to see you. He sends his carriage to +convey you here. His physicians fear that he will not survive the +night, hence he begs of you to come. Very truly, + +ETHEL B. WATSON, Nurse in Waiting. + + +"The idea! Of course I won't! I wouldn't think of such a thing!" +Hazel exclaimed. + +"Just a second," she said to the footman. + +Over on the parlor mantel lay some sheets of paper and envelopes. She +borrowed a pencil from Barrow and scribbled a brief refusal. The +footman departed with her answer. Hazel turned to find Jack staring +his puzzlement. + +"What did he want?" Barrow asked bluntly. "That was the Bush turnout, +wasn't it?" + +"You heard about Mr. Bush getting hurt, didn't you?" she inquired. + +"Saw it in the paper. Why?" + +"Nothing, except that he is supposed to be dying--and he wanted to see +me. At least--well, read the note," Hazel answered. + +Barrow glanced over the missive and frowned. + +"What do you suppose he wanted to see you for?" he asked. + +"How should I know?" Hazel evaded. + +She felt a reluctance to enter into any explanations. That would +necessitate telling the whole story, and she felt some delicacy about +relating it when the man involved lay near to death. Furthermore, Jack +might misunderstand, might blame her. He was inclined to jealousy on +slight grounds, she had discovered before now. Perhaps that, the +natural desire to avoid anything disagreeable coming up between them, +helped constrain her to silence. + +"Seems funny," he remarked slowly. + +"Oh, let's forget it." Hazel came and sat down on the couch by him. +"I don't know of any reason why he should want to see me. I wouldn't +go merely out of curiosity to find out. It was certainly a peculiar +request for him to make. But that's no reason why we should let it +bother us. If he's really so badly hurt, the chances are he's out of +his head. Don't scowl at that bit of paper so, Johnnie-boy." + +Barrow laughed and kissed her, and the subject was dropped forthwith. +Later they went out for a short walk. In an hour or so Barrow left for +home, promising to have the concert tickets for Thursday night. + +Hazel took the note out of her belt and read it again when she reached +her room. Why should he want to see her? She wondered at the man's +persistence. He had insulted her, according to her view of it--doubly +insulted her with threats and an enforced caress. Perhaps he merely +wanted to beg her pardon; she had heard of men doing such things in +their last moments. But she could not conceive of Mr. Andrew Bush +being sorry for anything he did. Her estimate of him was that his only +regret would be over failure to achieve his own ends. He struck her as +being an individual whose own personal desires were paramount. She had +heard vague stories of his tenacity of purpose, his disregard of +anything and everybody but himself. The gossip she had heard and half +forgotten had been recalled and confirmed by her own recent experience +with him. + +Nevertheless, she considered that particular episode closed. She +believed that she had convinced him of that. And so she could not +grasp the reason for that eleventh-hour summons. But she could see +that a repetition of such incidents might put her in a queer light. +Other folk might begin to wonder and inquire why Mr. Andrew Bush took +such an "interest" in her--a mere stenographer. Well, she told +herself, she did not care--so long as Jack Barrow's ears were not +assailed by talk. She smiled at that, for she could picture the +reception any scandal peddler would get from _him_. + +The next day's papers contained the obituary of Mr. Andrew Bush. He +had died shortly after midnight. And despite the fact that she held no +grudge, Hazel felt a sense of relief. He was powerless to annoy or +persecute her, and she could not escape the conviction that he would +have attempted both had he lived. + +She had now been idle a matter of days. Nearly three months were yet +to elapse before her wedding. She and Barrow had compromised on that +after a deal of discussion. Manlike, he had wished to be married as +soon as she accepted him, and she had held out far a date that would +permit her to accumulate a trousseau according to her means. + +"A girl only gets married once, Johnnie-boy," she had declared. "I +don't want to get married so--so offhand, like going out and buying a +pair of gloves or something. Even if I do love you ever so much." + +She had gained her point after a lot of argument. There had been no +thought then of her leaving Harrington & Bush so abruptly. Jack had +wanted to get the license as soon as he learned that she had thrown up +her job. But she refused to reset the date. They had made plans for +October. There was so sense in altering those plans. + +It seemed scarcely worth while to look for another position. She had +enough money saved to do everything she wanted to do. It was not so +much lack of money, the need to earn, as the monotony of idleness that +irked her. She had acquired the habit of work, and that is a thing not +lightly shaken off. But during that day she gathered together the +different Granville papers, and went carefully over the "want" columns. +Knowing the town as she did, she was enabled to eliminate the unlikely, +undesirable places. Thus by evening she was armed with a list of firms +and individuals requiring a stenographer. And in the morning she +sallied forth. + +Her quest ended with the first place she sought. The fact of two +years' service with the biggest firm in Granville was ample +recommendation; in addition to which the office manager, it developed +in their conversation, had known her father in years gone by. So +before ten o'clock Miss Hazel Weir was entered on the pay-roll of a +furniture-manufacturing house. It was not a permanent position; one of +their girls had been taken ill and was likely to take up her duties +again in six weeks or two months. But that suited Hazel all the +better. She could put in the time usefully, and have a breathing spell +before her wedding. + +At noon she telephoned Jack Barrow that she was at work again, and she +went straight from lunch to the office grind. + +Three days went by. Hazel attended the concert with Jack the evening +of the day Mr. Andrew Bush received ostentatious burial. At ten the +next morning the telephone girl called her. + +"Some one wants you on the phone, Miss Weir," she said. + +Hazel took up the dangling receiver. + +"Hello!" + +"That you, Hazel?" + +She recognized the voice, half guessing it would be he, since no one +but Jack Barrow would be likely to ring her up. + +"Surely. Doesn't it sound like me?" + +"Have you seen the morning papers?" + +"No. What--" + +"Look 'em over. Particularly the _Gazette_." + +The harsh rattle of a receiver slammed back on its hook without even a +"good-by" from him struck her like a slap in the face. She hung up +slowly, and went back to her work. Never since their first meeting, +and they had not been exempt from lovers' quarrels, had Jack Barrow +ever spoken to her like that. Even through the telephone the resentful +note in his voice grated on her and mystified her. + +Something in the papers lay at the bottom of it, but she could +comprehend nothing, absolutely nothing, she told herself hotly, that +should make Jack snarl at her like that. His very manner of conveying +the message was maddening, put her up in arms. + +She was chained to her work--which, despite her agitation, she managed +to wade through without any radical errors--until noon. The +twelve-to-one intermission gave her opportunity to hurry up the street +and buy a _Gazette_. Then, instead of going home to her luncheon, she +entered the nearest restaurant. She wanted a chance to read, more than +food. She did not unfold the paper until she was seated. + +A column heading on the front page caught her eye. The caption ran: +"Andrew Bush Leaves Money to Stenographer." And under it the subhead: +"Wealthy Manufacturer Makes Peculiar Bequest to Miss Hazel Weir." + +The story ran a full column, and had to do with the contents of the +will, made public following his interment. There was a great deal of +matter anent the principal beneficiaries. But that which formed the +basis of the heading was a codicil appended to the will a few hours +before his death, in which he did "give and bequeath to Hazel Weir, +until lately in my employ, the sum of five thousand dollars in +reparation for any wrong I may have done her." + +The _Gazette_ had copied that portion verbatim, and used it as a peg +upon which to hang some adroitly worded speculation as to what manner +of wrong Mr. Andrew Bush could have done Miss Hazel Weir. Mr. Bush was +a widower of ten years' standing. He had no children. There was +plenty of room in his life for romance. And wealthy business men who +wrong pretty stenographers are not such an unfamiliar type. The +_Gazette_ inclined to the yellow side of journalism, and it overlooked +nothing that promised a sensation. + +Hazel stared at the sheet, and her face burned. She could understand +now why Jack Barrow had hung up his receiver with a slam. She could +picture him reading that suggestive article and gritting his teeth. +Her hands clenched till the knuckles stood white under the smooth skin, +and then quite abruptly she got up and left the restaurant even while a +waiter hurried to take her order. If she had been a man, and versed in +profanity, she could have cursed Andrew Bush till his soul shuddered on +its journey through infinite space. Being a woman, she wished only a +quiet place to cry. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AN EXPLANATION DEMANDED + +Hazel's pride came to her rescue before she was half-way home. +Instinctively she had turned to that refuge, where she could lock +herself in her own room and cry her protest against it all. But she +had done no wrong, nothing of which to be ashamed, and when the first +shock of the news article wore off, she threw up her head and refused +to consider what the world at large might think. So she went back to +the office at one o'clock and took up her work. Long before evening +she sensed that others had read the _Gazette_. Not that any one +mentioned it, but sundry curious glances made her painfully aware of +the fact. + +Mrs. Stout evidently was on the watch, for she appeared in the hall +almost as the front door closed behind Hazel. + +"How de do, Miss Weir?" she greeted. "My, but you fell into quite a +bit of a fortune, ain't you?" + +"I only know what the papers say," Hazel returned coldly. + +"Just fancy! You didn't know nothing about it?" Mrs. Stout regarded +her with frank curiosity. "There's been two or three gentlemen from +the papers 'ere to-day awskin' for you. Such terrible fellows to quiz +one, they are." + +"Well?" Hazel filled in the pause. + +"Oh, I just thought I'd tell you," Mrs. Stout observed, "that they got +precious little out o' _me_. I ain't the talkin' kind. I told 'em +nothink whatever, you may be sure." + +"They're perfectly welcome to learn all that can be learned about me," +Hazel returned quietly. "I don't like newspaper notoriety, but I can't +muzzle the papers, and it's easy for them to get my whole history if +they want it." + +She was on the stairs when she finished speaking. She had just reached +the first landing when she heard the telephone bell, and a second or +two later the land-lady called: + +"Oh, Miss Weir! Telephone." + +Barrow's voice hailed her over the line. + +"I'll be out by seven," said he. "We had better take a walk. We can't +talk in the parlor; there'll probably be a lot of old tabbies there out +of sheer curiosity." + +"All right," Hazel agreed, and hung up. There were one or two +questions she would have liked to ask, but she knew that eager ears +were close by, taking in every word. Anyway, it was better to wait +until she saw him. + +She dressed herself. Unconsciously the truly feminine asserted its +dominance--the woman anxious to please and propitiate her lover. She +put on a dainty summer dross, rearranged her hair, powdered away all +trace of the tears that insisted on coming as soon as she reached the +sanctuary of her own room. And then she watched for Jack from a window +that commanded the street. She had eaten nothing since morning, and +the dinner bell rang unheeded. It did not occur to her that she was +hungry; her brain was engrossed with other matters more important by +far than food. + +Barrow appeared at last. She went down to meet him before he rang the +bell. Just behind him came a tall man in a gray suit. This individual +turned in at the gate, bestowing a nod upon Barrow and a keen glance at +her as he passed. + +"That's Grinell, from the _Times_," Barrow muttered sourly. "Come on; +let's get away from here. I suppose he's after you for an interview. +Everybody in Granville's talking about that legacy, it seems to me." + +Hazel turned in beside him silently. Right at the start she found +herself resenting Barrow's tone, his manner. She had done nothing to +warrant suspicion from him. But she loved him, and she hoped she could +convince him that it was no more than a passing unpleasantness, for +which she was nowise to blame. + +"Hang it!" Barrow growled, before they had traversed the first block. +"Here comes Grinell! I suppose that old cat of a landlady pointed us +out. No dodging him now." + +"There's no earthly reason why I should dodge him, as you put it," +Hazel replied stiffly. "I'm not an escaped criminal." + +Barrow shrugged his shoulders in a way that made Hazel bring her teeth +together and want to shake him. + +Grinell by then was hurrying up with long strides. Hat in hand, he +bowed to her. "Miss Hazel Weir, I believe?" he interrogated. + +"Yes," she confirmed. + +"I'm on the _Times_, Miss Weir," Grinell went straight to the business +in hand. "You are aware, I presume, that Mr. Andrew Bush willed you a +sum of money under rather peculiar conditions--that is, the bequest was +worded in a peculiar way. Probably you have seen a reference to it in +the papers. It has caused a great deal of interest. The _Times_ would +be pleased to have a statement from you which will tend to set at rest +the curiosity of the public. Some of the other papers have indulged in +unpleasant innuendo. We would be pleased to publish your side of the +matter. It would be an excellent way for you to quiet the nasty rumors +that are going the rounds." + +"I have no statement to make," Hazel said coolly. "I am not in the +least concerned with what the papers print or what the people say. I +absolutely refuse to discuss the matter." + +Grinell continued to point out--with the persistence and persuasive +logic of a good newspaper man bent on learning what his paper wants to +know--the desirability of her giving forth a statement. And in the +midst of his argument Hazel bade him a curt "good evening" and walked +on. Barrow kept step with her. Grinell gave it up for a bad job +evidently, for he turned back. + +They walked five blocks without a word. Hazel glanced at Barrow now +and then, and observed with an uncomfortable sinking of her heart that +he was sullen, openly resentful, suspicious. + +"Johnnie-boy," she said suddenly, "don't look so cross. Surely you +don't blame me because Mr. Bush wills me a sum of money in a way that +makes people wonder?" + +"I can't understand it at all," he said slowly. "It's very +peculiar--and deucedly unpleasant. Why should he leave you money at +all? And why should he word the will as he did? What wrong did he +ever do you?" + +"None," Hazel answered shortly. His tone wounded her, cut her deep, so +eloquent was it of distrust. "The only wrong he has done me lies in +willing me that money as he did." + +"But there's an explanation for that," Barrow declared moodily. +"There's a key to the mystery, and if anybody has it you have. What is +it?" + +"Jack," Hazel pleaded, "don't take that tone with me. I can't stand +it--I won't. I'm not a little child to be scolded and browbeaten. +This morning when you telephoned you were almost insulting, and it hurt +me dreadfully. You're angry now, and suspicious. You seem to think I +must have done some dreadful thing. I know what you're thinking. The +_Gazette_ hinted at some 'affair' between me and Mr. Bush; that +possibly that was a sort of left-handed reparation for ruining me. If +that didn't make me angry, it would amuse me--it's so absurd. Haven't +you any faith in me at all? I haven't done anything to be ashamed of. +I've got nothing to conceal." + +"Don't conceal it, then," Barrow muttered sulkily. "I've got a right +to know whatever there is to know if I'm going to marry you. You don't +seem to have any idea what this sort of talk that's going around means +to a man." + +Hazel stopped short and faced him. Her heart pounded sickeningly, and +hurt pride and rising anger choked her for an instant. But she managed +to speak calmly, perhaps with added calmness by reason of the struggle +she was compelled to make for self-control. + +"If you are going to marry me," she repeated, "you have got a right to +know all there is to know. Have I refused to explain? I haven't had +much chance to explain yet. Have I refused to tell you anything? If +you ever thought of anybody beside yourself, you might be asking +yourself how all this talk would affect a girl like me. And, besides, +I think from your manner that you've already condemned me--for what? +Would any reasonable explanation make an impression on you in your +present frame of mind? I don't want to marry you if you can't trust +me. Why, I couldn't--I _wouldn't_--marry you any time, or any place, +under those conditions, no matter how much I may foolishly care for +you." + +"There's just one thing, Hazel," Barrow persisted stubbornly. "There +must have been something between you and Bush. He sent flowers to you, +and I myself saw when he was hurt he sent his carriage to bring you to +his house. And then he leaves you this money. There was something +between you, and I want to know what it was. You're not helping +yourself by getting on your dignity and talking about my not trusting +you instead of explaining these things." + +"A short time ago," Hazel told him quietly, "Mr. Bush asked me to marry +him. I refused, of course. He--" + +"You refused!" Barrow interrupted cynically. "Most girls would have +jumped at the chance." + +"Jack!" she protested. + +"Well," Barrow defended, "he was almost a millionaire, and I've got +nothing but my hands and my brain. But suppose you did refuse him. +How does that account for the five thousand dollars?" + +"I think," Hazel flung back passionately, "I'll let you find that out +for yourself. You've said enough now to make me hate you almost. Your +very manner's an insult." + +"If you don't like my manner--" Barrow retorted stormily. Then he cut +his sentence in two, and glared at her. Her eyes glistened with +slow-welling tears, and she bit nervously at her under Up. Barrow +shrugged his shoulders. The twin devils of jealousy and distrust were +riding him hard, and it flashed over Hazel that in his mind she was +prejudged, and that her explanation, if she made it, would only add +fuel to the flame. Moreover, she stood in open rebellion at being, so +to speak, put on the rack. + +She turned abruptly and left him. What did it matter, anyway? She was +too proud to plead, and it was worse than useless to explain. + +Even so, womanlike, she listened, expecting to hear Jack's step +hurrying up behind. She could not imagine him letting her go like +that. But he did not come, and when, at a distance of two blocks, she +stole a backward glance, he had disappeared. + +She returned to the boarding-house. The parlor door stood wide, and +the curious, quickly averted glance of a girl she knew sent her +quivering up to her room. Safe in that refuge, she sat down by the +window, with her chin on her palms, struggling with the impulse to cry, +protesting with all her young strength against the bitterness that had +come to her through no fault of her own. There was only one cheerful +gleam. She loved Jack Barrow. She believed that he loved her, and she +could not believe--she could not conceive--him capable of keeping +aloof, obdurate and unforgiving, once he got out of the black mood he +was in. Then she could snuggle up close to him and tell him how and +why Mr. Andrew Bush had struck at her from his deathbed. + +She was still sitting by the window, watching the yellow crimson of the +sunset, when some one rapped at her door. A uniformed messenger boy +greeted her when she opened it: + +"Package for Miss Hazel Weir." + +She signed his delivery sheet. The address on the package was in +Jack's handwriting. A box of chocolates, or some little peace +offering, maybe. That was like Jack when he was sorry for anything. +They had quarreled before--over trifles, too. + +She opened it hastily. A swift heart sinking followed. In the small +cardboard box rested a folded scarf, and thrust in it a small gold +stickpin--the only thing she had ever given Jack Barrow. There was no +message. She needed none to understand. + +The sparkle of the small diamond on her finger drew her gaze. She +worked his ring over the knuckle, and dropped it on the dresser, where +the face in the silver frame smiled up at her. She stared at the +picture for one long minute fixedly, with unchanging expression, and +suddenly she swept it from the dresser with a savage sweep of her hand, +dashed it on the floor, and stamped it shapeless with her slippered +heel. + +"Oh, oh!" she gasped. "I hate you--I hate you! I despise you!" + +And then she flung herself across the bed and sobbed hysterically into +a pillow. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE WAY OF THE WORLD AT LARGE + +Through the night Hazel dozed fitfully, waking out of uneasy sleep to +lie staring, wide-eyed, into the dark, every nerve in her body taut, +her mind abnormally active. She tried to accept things +philosophically, but her philosophy failed. There was a hurt, the pain +of which she could not ease by any mental process. Grief and anger by +turns mastered her, and at daybreak she rose, heavy-lidded and +physically weary. + +The first thing upon which her gaze alighted was the crumpled photo in +its shattered frame; and, sitting on the side of her bed, she laughed +at the sudden fury in which she had destroyed it; but there was no +mirth in her laughter. + +"'Would we not shatter it to little bits--and then,'" she murmured. +"No, Mr. John Barrow, I don't believe I'd want to mold you nearer to my +heart's desire. Not after yesterday evening. There's such a thing as +being hurt so badly that one finally gets numb; and one always shrinks +from anything that can deliver such a hurt. Well, it's another day. +And there'll be lots of other days, I suppose." + +She gathered up the bits of broken glass and the bent frame, and put +them in a drawer, dressed herself, and went down to breakfast. She was +too deeply engrossed in her own troubles to notice or care whether any +subtle change was becoming manifest in the attitude of her fellow +boarders. The worst, she felt sure, had already overtaken her. In +reaction to the sensitive, shrinking mood of the previous day, a spirit +of defiance had taken possession of her. Figuratively she declared +that the world could go to the devil, and squared her shoulders with +the declaration. + +She had a little time to spare, and that time she devoted to making up +a package of Barrow's ring and a few other trinkets which he had given +her. This she addressed to his office and posted while on her way to +work. + +She got through the day somehow, struggling against thoughts that would +persist in creeping into her mind and stirring up emotions that she was +determined to hold in check. Work, she knew, was her only salvation. +If she sat idle, thinking, the tears would come in spite of her, and a +horrible, choky feeling in her throat. She set her teeth and thumped +away at her machine, grimly vowing that Jack Barrow nor any other man +should make her heart ache for long. + +And so she got through the week. Saturday evening came, and she went +home, dreading Sunday's idleness, with its memories. The people at +Mrs. Stout's establishment, she plainly saw, were growing a trifle shy +of her. She had never been on terms of intimacy with any of them +during her stay there, hence their attitude troubled little after the +first supersensitiveness wore off. But her own friends, girls with +whom she had played in the pinafore-and-pigtail stages of her youth, +young men who had paid court to her until Jack Barrow monopolized +her--she did not know how they stood. She had seen none of them since +Bush launched his last bolt. Barrow she had passed on the street just +once, and when he lifted his hat distantly, she looked straight ahead, +and ignored him. Whether she hurt him as much as she did herself by +the cut direct would be hard to say. + +On Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons ordinarily from two to a +dozen girl friends called her up at the boarding-house, or dropped in +by ones and twos to chat a while, tease her about Jack, or plan some +mild frivolity. Hazel went home, wondering if they, too, would stand +aloof. + +When Sunday noon arrived, and the phone had failed to call her once, +and not one of all her friends had dropped in, Hazel twisted her chair +so that she could stare at the image of herself in the mirror. + +"You're in a fair way to become a pariah, it seems," she said bitterly. +"What have you done, I wonder, that you've lost your lover, and that +Alice and May and Hortense and all the rest of them keep away from you? +Nothing--not a thing--except that your looks attracted a man, and the +man threw stones when he couldn't have his way. Oh, well, what's the +difference? You've got two good hands, and you're not afraid of work." + +She walked out to Granville Park after luncheon, and found a seat on a +shaded bench beside the lake. People passed and repassed--couples, +youngsters, old people, children. It made her lonely beyond measure. +She had never been isolated among her own kind before. She could not +remember a time when she had gone to Granville Park by herself. But +she was learning fast to stand on her own feet. + +A group of young people came sauntering along the path. Hazel looked +up as they neared her, chattering to each other. Maud Steele and Bud +Wells, and--why, she knew every one of the party. They were swinging +an empty picnic basket, and laughing at everything and nothing. Hazel +caught her breath as they came abreast, not over ten feet away. The +three young men raised their hats self-consciously. + +"Hello, Hazel!" the girl said. + +But they passed on. It seemed to Hazel that they quickened their pace +a trifle. It made her grit her teeth in resentful anger. Ten minutes +later she left the park and caught a car home. Once in her room she +broke down. + +"Oh, I'll go mad if I stay here and this sort of thing goes on!" she +cried forlornly. + +A sudden thought struck her. + +"Why _should_ I stay here?" she said aloud. "Why? What's to keep me +here? I can make my living anywhere." + +"But, no," she asserted passionately, "I won't run away. That would be +running away, and I haven't anything to be ashamed of. I will _not_ +run." + +Still the idea kept recurring to her. It promised relief from the hurt +of averted faces and coolness where she had a right to expect sympathy +and friendship. She had never been more than two hundred miles from +Granville in her life. But she knew that a vast, rich land spread +south and west. She was human and thoroughly feminine; loneliness +appalled her, and she had never suffered as Granville at large was +making her suffer. + +The legal notice of the bequest was mailed to her. She tore up the +letter and threw it in the fire as if it were some poisonous thing. +The idea of accepting his money stirred her to a perfect frenzy. That +was piling it up. + +All during the next week she worked at her machine in the office of the +furniture company, keeping strictly to herself, doing her work +impassively, efficiently, betraying no sign of the feelings that +sometimes rose up, the despairing protest and angry rebellion against +the dubious position she was in through no fault of her own. She swore +she would not leave Granville, and it galled her to stay. It was a +losing fight, and she knew it even if she did not admit the fact. If +she could have poured the whole miserable tale into some sympathetic +ear she would have felt better, and each day would have seemed less +hard. But there was no such ear. Her friends kept away. + +Saturday of the second week her pay envelope contained a brief notice +that the firm no longer required her services. There was no +explanation, only perfunctory regrets; and, truth to tell, Hazel cared +little to know the real cause. Any one of a number of reasons might +have been sufficient. But she realized how those who knew her would +take it, what cause they would ascribe. It did not matter, though. +The very worst, she reasoned, could not be so bad as what had already +happened--could be no more disagreeable than the things she had endured +in the past two weeks. Losing a position was a trifle. But it set her +thinking again. + +"It doesn't seem to be a case of flight," she reflected on her way +home, "so much as a case of being frozen out, compelled to go. I can't +stay here and be idle. I have to work in order to live. Well, I'm not +gone yet." + +She stopped at a news stand and bought the evening papers. Up in the +top rack of the stand the big heads of an assorted lot of Western +papers caught her eye. She bought two or three on the impulse of the +moment, without any definite purpose except to look them over out of +mere curiosity. With these tucked under her arm, she turned into the +boarding-house gate, ran up the steps, and, upon opening the door, her +ears were gladdened by the first friendly voice she had heard--it +seemed to her--in ages, a voice withal that she had least expected to +hear. A short, plump woman rushed out of the parlor, and precipitated +herself bodily upon Hazel. + +"Kitty Ryan! Where in the wide, wide world did you come from?" Hazel +cried. + +"From the United States and everywhere," Miss Ryan replied. "Take me +up to your room, dear, where we can talk our heads off. + +"And, furthermore, Hazie, I'll be pleased to have you address me as +Mrs. Brooks, my dear young woman," the plump lady laughed, as she +settled herself in a chair in Hazel's room. + +"So you're married?" Hazel said. + +"I am that," Mrs. Kitty responded emphatically, "to the best boy that +ever drew breath. And so should you be, dear girl. I don't see how +you've escaped so long--a good-looking girl like you. The boys were +always crazy after you. There's nothing like having a good man to take +care of you, dear." + +"Heaven save me from them!" Hazel answered bitterly. "If you've got a +good one, you're lucky. I can't see them as anything but +self-centered, arrogant, treacherous brutes." + +"Lord bless us--it's worse than I thought!" Kitty jumped up and threw +her arms around Hazel. "There, there--don't waste a tear on them. I +know all about it. I came over to see you just as soon as some of the +girls--nasty little cats they are; a woman's always meaner than a man, +dear--just as soon as they gave me an inkling of how things were going +with you. Pshaw! The world's full of good, decent fellows--and you've +got one coming." + +"I hope not," Hazel protested. + +"Oh, yes, you have," Mrs. Brooks smilingly assured her. "A woman +without a man is only half a human being, anyway, you know--and vice +versa. I know. We can cuss the men all we want to, my dear, and some +of us unfortunately have a nasty experience with one now and then. But +we can't get away from the fundamental laws of being." + +"If you'd had my experience of the last two weeks you'd sing a +different tune," Hazel vehemently declared. "I hate--I--" + +And then she gave way, and indulged in the luxury of turning herself +loose on Kitty's shoulder. Presently she was able to wipe her eyes and +relate the whole story from the Sunday Mr. Bush stopped and spoke to +her in the park down to that evening. + +Kitty nodded understandingly. "But the girls have handed it to you +worse than the men, Hazel," she observed sagely. "Jack Barrow was just +plain crazy jealous, and a man like that can't help acting as he did. +You're really fortunate, I think, because you'd not be really happy +with a man like that. But the girls that you and I grew up with--they +should have stood by you, knowing you as they did; yet you see they +were ready to think the worst of you. They nearly always do when +there's a man in the case. That's a weakness of our sex, dear. My, +what a vindictive old Turk that Bush must have been! Well, you aren't +working. Come and stay with me. Hubby's got a two-year contract with +the World Advertising Company. We'll be located here that long at +least. Come and stay with us. We'll show these little-minded folk a +thing or two. Leave it to us." + +"Oh, no, I couldn't think of that, Kitty!" Hazel faltered. "You know +I'd love to, and it's awfully good of you, but I think I'm just about +ready to go away from Granville." + +"Well, come and stop with us till you do go," Kitty insisted. "We are +going to take a furnished cottage for a while. Though, between you and +me, dear, knowing people as I do, I can't blame you for wanting to be +where their nasty tongues can't wound you." + +But Hazel was obdurate. She would not inflict herself on the one +friend she had left. And Kitty, after a short talk, berated her +affectionately for her independence, and rose to go. + +"For," said she, "I didn't get hold of this thing till Addie Horton +called at the hotel this afternoon, and I didn't stop to think that it +was near teatime, but came straight here. Jimmie'll think I've eloped. +So ta-ta. I'll come out to-morrow about two. I have to confab with a +house agent in the forenoon. By-by." + +Hazel sat down and actually smiled when Kitty was gone. Somehow a +grievous burden had fallen off her mind. Likewise, by some +psychological quirk, the idea of leaving Granville and making her home +elsewhere no longer struck her as running away under fire. She did not +wish to subject Kitty Brooks to the difficulties, the embarrassment +that might arise from having her as a guest; but the mere fact that +Kitty stood stanchly by her made the world seem less harsh and dreary, +made it seem as if she had, in a measure, justified herself. She felt +that she could adventure forth among strangers in a strange country +with a better heart, knowing that Kitty Brooks would put a swift +quietus on any gossip that came her way. + +So that Hazel went down to the dining-room light-heartedly, and when +the meal was finished came back and fell to reading her papers. The +first of the Western papers was a Vancouver _World_. In a real-estate +man's half-page she found a diminutive sketch plan of the city on the +shores of Burrard Inlet, Canada's principal outpost on the far Pacific. + +"It's quite a big place," she murmured absently. "One would be far +enough away there, goodness knows." + +Then she turned to the "Help Wanted" advertisements. The thing which +impressed her quickly and most vividly was the dearth of demand for +clerks and stenographers, and the repeated calls for domestic help and +such. Domestic service she shrank from except as a last resort. And +down near the bottom of the column she happened on an inquiry for a +school-teacher, female preferred, in an out-of-the-way district in the +interior of the province. + +"Now, that--" Hazel thought. + +She had a second-class certificate tucked away among her belongings. +Originally it had been her intention to teach, and she had done so one +term in a backwoods school when she was eighteen. With the ending of +the term she had returned to Granville, studied that winter, and got +her second certificate; but at the same time she had taken a +business-college course, and the following June found her clacking a +typewriter at nine dollars a week. And her teacher's diploma had +remained in the bottom of her trunk ever since. + +"I could teach, I suppose, by rubbing up a little on one or two +subjects as I went along," she reflected. "I wonder now--" + +What she wondered was how much salary she could expect, and she took up +the paper again, and looked carefully for other advertisements calling +for teachers. In the _World_ and in a Winnipeg paper she found one or +two vacancies to fill out the fall term, and gathered that Western +schools paid from fifty to sixty dollars a month for "schoolma'ams" +with certificates such as she held. + +"Why not?" she asked herself. "I've got two resources. If I can't get +office work I can teach. I can do _anything_ if I have to. And it's +far enough away, in all conscience--all of twenty-five hundred miles." + +Unaccountably, since Kitty Brooks' visit, she found herself itching to +turn her back on Granville and its unpleasant associations. She did +not attempt to analyze the feeling. Strange lands, and most of all the +West, held alluring promise. She sat in her rocker, and could not help +but dream of places where people were a little broader gauge, a little +less prone to narrow, conventional judgments. Other people had done as +she proposed doing--cut loose from their established environment, and +made a fresh start in countries where none knew or cared whence they +came or who they were. Why not she? One thing was certain: Granville, +for all she had been born there, and grown to womanhood there, was now +no place for her. The very people who knew her best would make her +suffer most. + +She spent that evening going thoroughly over the papers and writing +letters to various school boards, taking a chance at one or two she +found in the Manitoba paper, but centering her hopes on the country +west of the Rockies. Her letters finished, she took stock of her +resources--verified them, rather, for she had not so much money that +she did not know almost where she stood. Her savings in the bank +amounted to three hundred odd dollars, and cash in hand brought the sum +to a total of three hundred and sixty-five. At any rate, she had +sufficient to insure her living for quite a long time. And she went to +bed feeling better than she had felt for two weeks. + +Kitty Brooks came again the next afternoon, and, being a young woman of +wide experience and good sense, made no further attempt to influence +Hazel one way or the other. + +"I hate to see you go, though," she remarked truthfully. "But you'll +like the West--if it happens that you go there. You'll like it better +than the East; there's a different sort of spirit among the people. +I've traveled over some of it, and if Jimmie's business permitted we'd +both like to live there. And--getting down to strictly practical +things--a girl can make a much better living there. Wages are high. +And--who knows?--you might capture a cattle king." + +Hazel shrugged her shoulders, and Mrs. Kitty forbore teasing. After +that they gossiped and compared notes covering the two years since they +had met until it was time for Kitty to go home. + +Very shortly thereafter--almost, it seemed, by return mail--Hazel got +replies to her letters of inquiry. The fact that each and every one +seemed bent on securing her services astonished her. + +"Schoolma'ams must certainly be scarce out there," she told herself. +"This is an embarrassment of riches. I'm going somewhere, but which +place shall it be?" + +But the reply from Cariboo Meadows, B. C., the first place she had +thought of, decided her. The member of the school board who replied +held forth the natural beauty of the country as much as he did the +advantages of the position. The thing that perhaps made the strongest +appeal to Hazel was a little kodak print inclosed in the letter, +showing the schoolhouse. + +The building itself was primitive enough, of logs, with a pole-and-sod +roof. But it was the huge background, the timbered mountains rising to +snow-clad heights against a cloudless sky, that attracted her. She had +never seen a greater height of land than the rolling hills of Ontario. +Here was a frontier, big and new and raw, holding out to her as she +stared at the print a promise--of what? She did not know. Adventure? +If she desired adventure, it was purely a subconscious desire. But she +had lived in a rut a long time without realizing it more than vaguely, +and there was something in her nature that responded instantly when she +contemplated journeying alone into a far country. She found herself +hungering for change, for a measure of freedom from petty restraints, +for elbow-room in the wide spaces, where one's neighbor might be ten or +forty miles away. She knew nothing whatever of such a life, but she +could feel a certain envy of those who led it. + +She sat for a long time looking at the picture, thinking. Here was the +concrete, visible presentment of something that drew her strongly. She +found an atlas, and looked up Cariboo Meadows on the map. It was not +to be found, and Hazel judged it to be a purely local name. But the +letter told her that she would have to stage it a hundred and +sixty-five miles north from Ashcroft, B. C., where the writer would +meet her and drive her to the Meadows. She located the stage-line +terminal on the map, and ran her forefinger over the route. Mountain +and lake and stream lined and dotted and criss-crossed the province +from end to end of its seven-hundred-mile length. Back of where +Cariboo Meadows should be three or four mining camps snuggled high in +the mountains. + +"What a country!" she whispered. "It's wild; really, truly wild; and +everything I've ever seen has been tamed and smoothed down, and made +eminently respectable and conventional long ago. That's the place. +That's where I'm going, and I'm going it blind. I'm not going to tell +any one--not even Kitty--until, like a bear, I've gone over the +mountain to see what I can see." + +Within an hour of that Miss Hazel Weir had written to accept the terms +offered by the Cariboo Meadow school district, and was busily packing +her trunk. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +CARIBOO MEADOWS + +A tall man, sunburned, slow-speaking, met Hazel at Soda Creek, the end +of her stage journey, introducing himself as Jim Briggs. + +"Pretty tiresome trip, ain't it?" he observed. "You'll have a chance +to rest decent to-night, and I got a team uh bays that'll yank yuh to +the Meadows in four hours 'n' a half. My wife'll be plumb tickled to +have yuh. They ain't much more'n half a dozen white women in ten miles +uh the Meadows. We keep a boardin'-house. Hope you'll like the +country." + +That was a lengthy speech for Jim Briggs, as Hazel discovered when she +rolled out of Soda Creek behind the "team uh bays." His conversation +was decidedly monosyllabic. But he could drive, if he was no talker, +and his team could travel. The road, albeit rough in spots, a mere +track through timber and little gems of open where the yellowing grass +waved knee-high, and over hills which sloped to deep canons lined with +pine and spruce, seemed short enough. And so by eleven o'clock Hazel +found herself at Cariboo Meadows. + +"Schoolhouse's over yonder." Briggs pointed out the place--an +unnecessary guidance, for Hazel had already marked the building set off +by itself and fortified with a tall flagpole. "And here's where we +live. Kinda out uh the world, but blame good place to live." + +Hazel did like the place. Her first impression was thankfulness that +her lot had been cast in such a spot. But it was largely because of +the surroundings, essentially primitive, the clean air, guiltless of +smoke taint, the aromatic odors from the forest that ranged for +unending miles on every hand. For the first time in her life, she was +beyond hearing of the clang of street cars, the roar of traffic, the +dirt and smells of a city. It seemed good. She had no regrets, no +longing to be back. There was a pain sometimes, when in spite of +herself she would fall to thinking of Jack Barrow. But that she looked +upon as a closed chapter. He had hurt her where a woman can be most +deeply wounded--in her pride and her affections--and the hurt was +dulled by the smoldering resentment that thinking of him always fanned +to a flame. Miss Hazel Weir was neither meek nor mild, even if her +environment had bred in her a repression that had become second nature. + +So with the charm of the wild land fresh upon her, she took kindly to +Cariboo Meadows. The immediate, disagreeable past bade fair to become +as remote in reality as the distance made it seem. Surely no ghosts +would walk here to make people look askance at her. + +Her first afternoon she spent loafing on the porch of the Briggs +domicile, within which Mrs. Briggs, a fat, good-natured person of +forty, toiled at her cooking for the "boarders," and kept a brood of +five tumultuous youngsters in order--the combined tasks leaving her +scant time to entertain her newly arrived guest. From the vantage +ground of the porch Hazel got her first glimpse of the turns life +occasionally takes when there is no policeman just around the corner. + +Cariboo Meadows, as a town, was simply a double row of buildings facing +each other across a wagon road. Two stores, a blacksmith shop, a feed +stable, certain other nondescript buildings, and a few dwellings, +mostly of logs, was all. Probably not more than a total of fifty souls +made permanent residence there. But the teams of ranchers stood in the +street, and a few saddled cow ponies whose listlessness was mostly +assumed. Before one of the general stores a prospector fussed with a +string of pack horses. Directly opposite Briggs' boarding-house stood +a building labeled "Regent Hotel." Hazel could envisage it all with a +half turn of her head. + +From this hotel there presently issued a young man dressed in the +ordinary costume of the country--wide hat, flannel shirt, overalls, +boots. He sat down on a box close by the hotel entrance. In a few +minutes another came forth. He walked past the first a few steps, +stopped, and said something. Hazel could not hear the words. The +first man was filling a pipe. Apparently he made no reply; at least, +he did not trouble to look up. But she saw his shoulders lift in a +shrug. Then he who had passed turned square about and spoke again, +this time lifting his voice a trifle. The young fellow sitting on the +box instantly became galvanized into action. He flung out an oath that +carried across the street and made Hazel's ears burn. At the same time +he leaped from his seat straight at the other man. Hazel saw it quite +distinctly, saw him who jumped dodge a vicious blow and close with the +other; and saw, moreover, something which amazed her. For the young +fellow swayed with his adversary a second or two, then lifted him +bodily off his feet almost to the level of his head, and slammed him +against the hotel wall with a sudden twist. She heard the thump of the +body on the logs. For an instant she thought him about to jump with +his booted feet on the prostrate form, and involuntarily she held her +breath. But he stepped back, and when the other scrambled up, he +side-stepped the first rush, and knocked the man down again with a blow +of his fist. This time he stayed down. Then other men--three or four +of them--came out of the hotel, stood uncertainly a few seconds, and +Hazel heard the young fellow say: + +"Better take that fool in and bring him to. If he's still hungry for +trouble, I'll be right handy. I wonder how many more of you fellers +I'll have to lick before you'll get wise enough not to start things you +can't stop?" + +They supported the unconscious man through the doorway; the young +fellow resumed his seat on the box, also his pipe filling. + +"Roarin' Bill's goin' to get himself killed one uh these days." + +Hazel started, but it was only Jim Briggs in the doorway beside her. + +"I guess you ain't much used to seein' that sort of exhibition where +you come from, Miss Weir," Briggs' wife put in over his shoulder. "My +land, it's disgustin'--men fightin' in the street where everybody can +see 'em. Thank goodness, it don't happen very often. 'Specially when +Bill Wagstaff ain't around. You ain't shocked, are you, honey?" + +"Why, I didn't have time to be shocked," Hazel laughed. "It was done +so quickly." + +"If them fellers would leave Bill alone," Briggs remarked, "there +wouldn't be no fight. But he goes off like a hair-trigger gun, and +he'd scrap a dozen quick as one. I'm lookin' to see his finish one uh +these days." + +"What a name!" Hazel observed, caught by the appellation Briggs had +first used. "Is that Roaring Bill over there?" + +"That's him--Roarin' Bill Wagstaff," Briggs answered. "If he takes a +few drinks, you'll find out to-night how he got the name. Sings--just +like a bull moose--hear him all over town. Probably whip two or three +men before mornin'." + +His spouse calling him at that moment, Briggs detailed no more +information about Roaring Bill. And Hazel sat looking across the way +with considerable interest at the specimen of a type which hitherto she +had encountered in the pages of fiction--a fighting man, what the West +called a "bad actor." She had, however, no wish for closer study of +that particular type. The men of her world had been altogether +different, and the few frontier specimens she had met at the Briggs' +dinner table had not impressed her with anything except their shyness +and manifest awkwardness in her presence. The West itself appealed to +her, its bigness, its nearness to the absolutely primeval, but not the +people she had so far met. They were not wrapped in a glamor of +romance; she was altogether too keen to idealize them. They were not +her kind, and while she granted their worth, they were more picturesque +about their own affairs than when she came in close contact with them. +Those were her first impressions. And so she looked at Roaring Bill +Wagstaff, over the way, with a quite impersonal interest. + +He came into Briggs' place for supper. Mrs. Briggs was her own +waitress. Briggs himself sat beside Hazel. She heard him grunt, and +saw a mild look of surprise flit over his countenance when Roaring Bill +walked in and coolly took a seat. But not until Hazel glanced at the +newcomer did she recognize him as the man who had fought in the street. +He was looking straight at her when she did glance up, and the mingled +astonishment and frank admiration in his clear gray eyes made Hazel +drop hers quickly to her plate. Since Mr. Andrew Bush, she was +beginning to hate men who looked at her that way. And she could not +help seeing that many did so look. + +Roaring Bill ate his supper in silence. No one spoke to him, and he +addressed no one except to ask that certain dishes be passed. Among +the others conversation was general. Hazel noticed that, and wondered +why--wondered if Roaring Bill was taboo. She had sensed enough of the +Western point of view to know that the West held nothing against a man +who was quick to blows--rather admired such a one, in fact. And her +conclusions were not complimentary to Mr. Bill Wagstaff. If people +avoided him in that country, he must be a very hard citizen indeed. +And Hazel no more than formulated this opinion than she was ashamed of +it, having her own recent experience in mind. Whereupon she dismissed +Bill Wagstaff from her thoughts altogether when she left the table. + +Exactly three days later Hazel came into the dining-room at noon, and +there received her first lesson in the truth that this world is a very +small place, after all. A nattily dressed gentleman seated to one side +of her place at table rose with the most polite bows and extended hand. +Hazel recognized him at a glance as Mr. Howard Perkins, traveling +salesman for Harrington & Bush. She had met him several times in the +company offices. She was anything save joyful at the meeting, but +after the first unwelcome surprise she reflected that it was scarcely +strange that a link in her past life should turn up here, for she knew +that in the very nature of things a firm manufacturing agricultural +implements would have its men drumming up trade on the very edge of the +frontier. + +Mr. Perkins was tolerably young, good looking, talkative, apparently +glad to meet some one from home. He joined her on the porch for a +minute when the meal was over. And he succeeded in putting Hazel +unqualifiedly at her ease so far as he was concerned. If he had heard +any Granville gossip, if he knew why she had left Granville, it +evidently cut no figure with him. As a consequence, while she was +simply polite and negatively friendly, deep in her heart Hazel felt a +pleasant reaction from the disagreeable things for which Granville +stood; and, though she nursed both resentment and distrust against men +in general, it did not seem to apply to Mr. Perkins. Anyway, he was +here to-day, and on the morrow he would be gone. + +Being a healthy, normal young person, Hazel enjoyed his company without +being fully aware of the fact. So much for natural gregariousness. +Furthermore, Mr. Perkins in his business had been pretty much +everywhere on the North American continent, and he knew how to set +forth his various experiences. Most women would have found him +interesting, particularly in a community isolated as Cariboo Meadows, +where tailored clothes and starched collars seemed unknown, and every +man was his own barber--at infrequent intervals. + +So Hazel found it quite natural to be chatting with him on the Briggs' +porch when her school work ended at three-thirty in the afternoon. It +transpired that Mr. Perkins, like herself, had an appreciation of the +scenic beauties, and also the picturesque phases of life as it ran in +the Cariboo country. They talked of many things, discussed life in a +city as compared with existence in the wild, and were agreed that both +had desirable features--and drawbacks. Finally Mr. Perkins proposed a +walk up on a three-hundred-foot knoll that sloped from the back door, +so to speak, of Cariboo Meadows. Hazel got her hat, and they set out. +She had climbed that hill by herself, and she knew that it commanded a +great sweep of the rolling land to the west. + +They reached the top in a few minutes, and found a seat on a dead tree +trunk. Mr. Perkins was properly impressed with the outlook. But +before very long he seemed to suffer a relaxation of his interest in +the view and a corresponding increase of attention to his companion. +Hazel recognized the symptoms. At first it amused, then it irritated +her. The playful familiarity of Mr. Perkins suddenly got on her nerves. + +"I think I shall go down," she said abruptly. + +"Oh, I say, now, there's no hurry," Perkins responded smilingly. + +But she was already rising from her seat, and Mr. Perkins, very likely +gauging his action according to his experience in other such +situations, did an utterly foolish thing. He caught her as she rose, +and laughingly tried to kiss her. Whereupon he discovered that he had +caught a tartar, for Hazel slapped him with all the force she could +muster--which was considerable, judging by the flaming red spot which +the smack of her palm left on his smooth-shaven cheek. But he did not +seem to mind that. Probably he had been slapped before, and regarded +it as part of the game. He attempted to draw her closer. + +"Why, you're a regular scrapper," he smiled. "Now, I'm sure you didn't +cuff Bush that way." + +Hazel jerked loose from his grip in a perfect fury, using at the same +time the weapons nature gave her according to her strength, whereby Mr. +Perkins suffered sundry small bruises, which were as nothing to the +bruises his conceit suffered. For, being free of him, Hazel stood her +ground long enough to tell him that he was a cad, a coward, an ill-bred +nincompoop, and other epithets grievous to masculine vanity. With that +she fled incontinently down the hill, furious, shamed almost to tears, +and wishing fervently that she had the muscle of a man to requite the +insult as it deserved. To cap the climax, Mrs. Briggs, who had seen +the two depart, observed her return alone, and, with a curious look, +asked jokingly: + +"Did you lose the young man in the timber?" + +And Hazel, being keyed to a fearful pitch, unwisely snapped back: + +"I hope so." + +Which caused Mrs. Briggs' gaze to follow her wonderingly as she went +hastily to her own room. + +Like other mean souls of similar pattern, it suited Mr. Perkins to seek +revenge in the only way possible--by confidentially relating to divers +individuals during that evening the Granville episode in the new +teacher's career. At least, Hazel guessed he must have told the tale +of that ambiguously worded bequest and the subsequent gossip, for as +early as the next day she caught certain of Jim Briggs' boarders +looking at her with an interest they had not heretofore displayed--or, +rather, it should be said, with a _different_ sort of interest. They +were discussing her. She could not know it positively, but she felt it. + +The feeling grew to certainty after Perkins' departure that day. There +was a different atmosphere. Probably, she reflected, he had thrown in +a few embellishments of his own for good measure. She felt a tigerish +impulse to choke him. But she was proud, and she carried her head in +the air, and, in effect, told Cariboo Meadows to believe as it pleased +and act as it pleased. They could do no more than cut her and cause +her to lose her school. She managed to keep up an air of cool +indifference that gave no hint of the despairing protest that surged +close to the surface. Individually and collectively, she reiterated to +herself, she despised men. Her resentment had not yet extended to the +women of Cariboo Meadows. They were mostly too busy with their work to +be much in the foreground. She did observe, or thought she observed, a +certain coolness in Mrs. Briggs' manner--a sort of suspended judgment. + +In the meantime, she labored diligently at her appointed task of +drilling knowledge into the heads of a dozen youngsters. From nine +until three-thirty she had that to occupy her mind to the exclusion of +more troublesome things. When school work for the day ended, she went +to her room, or sat on the porch, or took solitary rambles in the +immediate vicinity, avoiding the male contingent as she would have +avoided contagious disease. Never, never, she vowed, would she trust +another man as far as she could throw him. + +The first Saturday after the Perkins incident, Hazel went for a tramp +in the afternoon. She avoided the little hill close at hand. It left +a bad taste in her mouth to look at the spot. This was foolish, and +she realized that it was foolish, but she could not help the +feeling--the insult was still too fresh in her mind. So she skirted +its base and ranged farther afield. The few walks she had taken had +lulled all sense of uneasiness in venturing into the infolding forest. +She felt that those shadowy woods were less sinister than man. And +since she had always kept her sense of direction and come straight to +the Meadows whenever she went abroad, she had no fear or thought of +losing her way. + +A mile or so distant a bare spot high on a wooded ridge struck her as a +likely place to get an unobstructed view. To reach some height and sit +in peace, staring out over far-spreading vistas, contented her. She +could put away the unpleasantness of the immediate past, discount the +possible sordidness of the future, and lose herself in dreams. + +To reach her objective point, she crossed a long stretch of rolling +land, well timbered, dense in parts with thickets of berry bushes. +Midway in this she came upon a little brook, purring a monotone as it +crawled over pebbled reaches and bathed the tangled roots of trees +along its brink. By this she sat a while. Then she idled along, +coming after considerable difficulty to abruptly rising ground. Though +in the midst of timber the sun failed to penetrate, she could always +see it through the branches and so gauge her line of travel. On the +hillside it was easier, for the forest thinned out. Eventually she +gained a considerable height, and while she failed to reach the opening +seen from the Meadows, she found another that served as well. The sun +warmed it, and the sun rays were pleasant to bask in, for autumn drew +close, and there was a coolness in the shade even at noon. She could +not see the town, but she could mark the low hills behind it. At any +rate, she knew where it lay, and the way back. + +So she thought. But the short afternoon fled, and, warned by the low +dip of the sun, she left her nook on the hillside to make her way home. +Though it was near sundown, she felt no particular concern. The long +northern twilight gave her ample time to cover the distance. + +But once down on the rolling land, among the close-ranked trees, she +began to experience a difficulty that had not hitherto troubled her. +With the sun hanging low, she lost her absolute certainty of east and +west, north and south. The forest seemed suddenly to grow confusingly +dim and gloomier, almost menacing in its uncanny evening silence. The +birds were hushed, and the wind. + +She blundered on, not admitting to herself the possibility of being +unable to find Cariboo Meadows. As best she could, and to the best of +her belief, she held in a straight line for the town. But she walked +far enough to have overrun it, and was yet upon unfamiliar ground. The +twilight deepened. The sky above showed turquoise blue between the +tall tree-tops, but the woods themselves grew blurred, dusky at a +little distance ahead. Even to a seasoned woodsman, twilight in a +timbered country that he does not know brings confusion; uncertainty +leads him far wide of his mark. Hazel, all unused to woods travel, +hurried the more, uneasy with the growing conviction that she had gone +astray. + +The shadows deepened until she tripped over roots and stones, and +snagged her hair and clothing on branches she could not see in time to +fend off. As a last resort, she turned straight for the light patch +still showing in the northwest, hoping thus to cross the wagon road +that ran from Soda Creek to the Meadows--it lay west, and she had gone +northeast from town. And as she hurried, a fear began to tug at her +that she had passed the Meadows unknowingly. If she could only cross a +trail--trails always led somewhere, and she was going it blind. The +immensity of the unpeopled areas she had been looking out over for a +week appalled her. + +Presently it was dark, and darkness in the woods is the darkness of the +pit itself. She found a fallen tree, and climbed on it to rest and +think. Night in gloomy places brings an eerie feeling sometimes to the +bravest--dormant sense impressions, running back to the cave age and +beyond, become active, harry the mind with subtle, unreasoning +qualms--and she was a girl, brave enough, but out of the only +environment she knew how to grapple with. All the fearsome tales of +forest beasts she had ever heard rose up to harass her. She had not +lifted up her voice while it was light because she was not the timid +soul that cries in the face of a threatened danger. Also because she +would not then admit the possibility of getting lost. And now she was +afraid to call. She huddled on the log, shuddering with the growing +chill of the night air, partly with dread of the long, black night +itself that walled her in. She had no matches to light a fire. + +After what seemed an age, she fancied she saw a gleam far distant in +the timber. She watched the spot fixedly, and thought she saw the +faint reflection of a light. That heartened her. She advanced toward +it, hoping that it might be the gleam of a ranch window. Her progress +was slow. She blundered over the litter of a forest floor, tripping +over unseen obstacles. But ten minutes established beyond peradventure +the fact that it was indeed a light. Whether a house light or the +reflection of a camp fire she was not woodwise enough to tell. But a +fire must mean human beings of one sort or another, and thereby a means +to reach home. + +She kept on. The wavering gleam came from behind a thicket--an open +fire, she saw at length. Beyond the fire she heard a horse sneeze. +Within a few yards of the thicket through which wavered the yellow +gleam she halted, smitten with a sudden panic. This endured but a few +seconds. All that she knew or had been told of frontier men reassured +her. She had found them to a man courteous, awkwardly considerate. +And she could not wander about all night. + +She moved cautiously, however, to the edge of the thicket, to a point +where she could see the fire. A man sat humped over the glowing +embers, whereon sizzled a piece of meat. His head was bent forward, as +if he were listening. Suddenly he looked up, and she gasped--for the +firelight showed the features of Roaring Bill Wagstaff. + +She was afraid of him. Why she did not know nor stop to reason. But +her fear of him was greater than her fear of the pitch-black night and +the unknown dangers of the forest. She turned to retreat. In the same +instant Roaring Bill reached to his rifle and stood up. + +"Hold on there!" he said coolly. "You've had a look at me--I want a +look at you, old feller, whoever you are. Come on--show yourself." + +He stepped sidewise out of the light as he spoke. Hazel started to +run. The crack of a branch under foot betrayed her, and he closed in +before she took three steps. He caught her rudely by the arm, and +yanked her bodily into the firelight. + +"Well--for the--love of--Mike!" + +Wagstaff drawled the exclamation out in a rising crescendo of +astonishment. Then he laid his gun down across a roll of bedding, and +stood looking at her in speechless wonder. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A DIFFERENT SORT OF MAN + +"For the love of Mike!" Roaring Bill said again. "What are you doing +wandering around in the woods at night? Good Lord! Your teeth are +chattering. Sit down here and get warm. It is sort of chilly." + +Even in her fear, born of the night, the circumstances, and partly of +the man, Hazel noticed that his speech was of a different order from +that to which she had been listening the past ten days. His +enunciation was perfect. He dropped no word endings, nor slurred his +syllables. And cast in so odd a mold is the mind of civilized woman +that the small matter of a little refinement of speech put Hazel Weir +more at her ease than a volume of explanation or protest on his part +would have done. She had pictured him a ruffian in thought, speech, +and deed. His language cleared him on one count, and she observed that +almost his first thought was for her comfort, albeit he made no sort of +apology for handling her so roughly in the gloom beyond the fire. + +"I got lost," she explained, growing suddenly calm. "I was out +walking, and lost my way." + +"Easy thing to do when you don't know timber," Bill remarked. "And in +consequence you haven't had any supper; you've been scared almost to +death--and probably all of Cariboo Meadows is out looking for you. +Well, you've had an adventure. That's worth something. Better eat a +bite, and you'll feel better." + +He turned over the piece of meat on the coals while he spoke. Hazel +saw that it lay on two green sticks, like a steak on a gridiron. It +was quite simple, but she would never have thought of that. The meat +exhaled savory odors. Also, the warmth of the fire seemed good. But-- + +"I'd rather be home," she confessed. + +"Sure! I guess you would--naturally. I'll see that you get there, +though it won't be easy. It's no snap to travel these woods in the +dark. You couldn't have been so far from the Meadows. How did it come +you didn't yell once in a while?" + +"I didn't think it was necessary," Hazel admitted, "until it began to +get dark. And then I didn't like to." + +"You got afraid," Roaring Bill supplied. "Well, it does sound creepy +to holler in the timber after night. I know how that goes. I've made +noises after night that scared myself." + +He dug some utensils out of his pack layout--two plates, knife, fork, +and spoons, and laid them by the fire. Opposite the meat a pot of +water bubbled. Roaring Bill produced a small tin bucket, black with +the smoke of many an open fire, and a package, and made coffee. Then +he spread a canvas sheet, and laid on that bread, butter, salt, a jar +of preserved fruit. + +"How far is it to Cariboo Meadows?" Hazel asked. + +Bill looked up from his supper preparations. + +"You've got me," he returned carelessly. "Probably four or five miles. +I'm not positive; I've been running in circles myself this afternoon." + +"Good heavens!" Hazel exclaimed. "But you know the way?" + +"Like a book--in the daytime," he replied. "But night in the timber is +another story, as you've just been finding out for yourself." + +"I thought men accustomed to the wilderness could always find their way +about, day or night," Hazel observed tartly. + +"They can--in stories," Bill answered dryly. + +He resumed his arranging of the food while she digested this. +Presently he sat down beside the fire, and while he turned the meat +with a forked stick, came back to the subject again. + +"You see, I'm away off any trail here," he said, "and it's all woods, +with only a little patch of open here and there. It's pure accident I +happen to be here at all; accident which comes of unadulterated +cussedness on the part of one of my horses. I left the Meadows at +noon, and Nigger--that's this confounded cayuse of mine--he had to get +scared and take to the brush. He got plumb away from me, and I had to +track him. I didn't come up with him till dusk, and then the first +good place I struck, which was here, I made camp. I was all for +catching that horse, so I didn't pay much attention to where I was +going. Didn't need to, because I know the country well enough to get +anywhere in daylight, and I'm fixed to camp wherever night overtakes +me. So I'm not dead sure of my ground. But you don't need to worry on +that account. I'll get you home all right. Only it'll be mean +traveling--and slow--unless we happen to bump into some of those +fellows out looking for you. They'd surely start out when you didn't +come home at dusk; they know it isn't any joke for a girl to get lost +in these woods. I've known men to get badly turned round right in this +same country. Well, sit up and eat a bite." + +She had to be satisfied with his assurance that he would see her to +Cariboo Meadows. And, accepting the situation with what philosophy she +could command, Hazel proceeded to fall to--and soon discovered herself +relishing the food more than any meal she had eaten for a long time. +Hunger is the king of appetizers, and food cooked in the open has a +flavor of its own which no aproned chef can duplicate. Roaring Bill +put half the piece of meat on her plate, sliced bread for her, and set +the butter handy. Also, he poured her a cup of coffee. He had a small +sack of sugar, and his pack boxes yielded condensed milk. + +"Maybe you'd rather have tea," he said. "I didn't think to ask you. +Most Canadians don't drink anything else." + +"No, thanks. I like coffee," Hazel replied. + +"You're not a true-blue Canuck, then," Bill observed. + +"Indeed, I am," she declared. "Aren't you a Canadian?" + +"Well, I don't know that the mere accident of birth in come particular +locality makes any difference," he answered. "But I'm a lot shy of +being a Canadian, though I've been in this country a long time. I was +born in Chicago, the smokiest, windiest old burg in the United States." + +"It's a big place, isn't it?" Hazel kept the conversation going. "I +don't know any of the American cities, but I have a girl friend working +in a Chicago office." + +"Yes, it's big--big and noisy and dirty, and full of wrecks--human +derelicts in an industrial Sargasso Sea--like all big cities the world +over. I don't like 'em." + +Wagstaff spoke casually, as much to himself as to her, and he did not +pursue the subject, but began his meal. + +"What sort of meat is this?" Hazel asked after a few minutes of +silence. It was fine-grained and of a rich flavor strange to her +mouth. She liked it, but it was neither beef, pork, nor mutton, nor +any meat she knew. + +"Venison. Didn't you ever eat any before?" he smiled. + +"Never tasted it," she answered. "Isn't it nice? No, I've read of +hunters cooking venison over an open fire, but this is my first taste. +Indeed, I've never seen a real camp fire before." + +"Lord--what a lot you've missed!" There was real pity in his tone. "I +killed that deer to-day. In fact, the little circus I had with Mr. +Buck was what started Nigger off into the brush. Have some more +coffee." + +He refilled her tin cup, and devoted himself to his food. Before long +they had satisfied their hunger. Bill laid a few dry sticks on the +fire. The flames laid hold of them and shot up in bright, wavering +tongues. It seemed to Hazel that she had stepped utterly out of her +world. Cariboo Meadows, the schoolhouse, and her classes seemed +remote. She found herself wishing she were a man, so that she could +fare into the wilds with horses and a gun in this capable man fashion, +where routine went by the board and the unexpected hovered always close +at hand. She looked up suddenly, to find him regarding her with a +whimsical smile. + +"In a few minutes," said he, "I'll pack up and try to deliver you as +per contract. Meantime, I'm going to smoke." + +He did not ask her permission, but filled his pipe and lighted it with +a coal. And for the succeeding fifteen minutes Roaring Bill Wagstaff +sat staring into the dancing blaze. Once or twice he glanced at her, +and when he did the same whimsical smile would flit across his face. +Hazel watched him uneasily after a time. He seemed to have forgotten +her. His pipe died, and he sat holding it in his hand. She was +uneasy, but not afraid. There was nothing about him or his actions to +make her fear. On the contrary, Roaring Bill at close quarters +inspired confidence. Why she could not and did not attempt to +determine, psychological analysis being rather out of her line. + +Physically, however, Roaring Bill measured up to a high standard. He +was young, probably twenty-seven or thereabouts. There was +power--plenty of it--in the wide shoulders and deep chest of him, with +arms in proportion. His hands, while smooth on the backs and well +cared for, showed when he exposed the palms the callouses of ax +handling. And his face was likable, she decided, full of character, +intensely masculine. In her heart every woman despises any hint of the +effeminate in man. Even though she may decry what she is pleased to +term the brute in man, whenever he discards the dominant, overmastering +characteristics of the male she will have none of him. Miss Hazel Weir +was no exception to her sex. + +Consciously or otherwise she took stock of Bill Wagstaff. She knew him +to be in bad odor with Cariboo Meadows for some unknown reason. She +had seen him fight in the street, knock a man unconscious with his +fists. According to her conceptions of behavior that was brutal and +vulgar. Drinking came under the same head, and she had Jim Briggs' +word that Bill Wagstaff not only got drunk, but was a "holy terror" +when in that condition. Yet she could not quite associate the twin +traits of brutality and vulgarity with the man sitting close by with +that thoughtful look on his face. His speech stamped him as a man of +education; every line of him showed breeding in all that the word +implies. + +Nevertheless, he was "tough." And she had gathered enough of the +West's wide liberality of view in regard to personal conduct to know +that Roaring Bill Wagstaff must be a hard citizen indeed to be +practically ostracized in a place like Cariboo Meadows. She wondered +what Cariboo Meadows would say if it could see her sitting by Bill +Wagstaff's fire at nine in the evening in the heart of the woods. What +would they say when he piloted her home? + +In the midst of her reflections Roaring Bill got up. + +"Well, we'll make a move," he said, and disappeared abruptly into the +dark. + +She heard him moving around at some distance. Presently he was back, +leading three horses. One he saddled. The other two he rigged with +his pack outfit, storing his varied belongings in two pair of kyaks, +and loading kyaks and bedding on the horses with a deft speed that +bespoke long practice. He was too busy to talk, and Hazel sat beside +the fire, watching in silence. When he had tucked up the last rope +end, he turned to her. + +"There," he said; "we're ready to hit the trail. Can you ride?" + +"I don't know," Hazel answered dubiously. "I never have ridden a +horse." + +"My, my!" he smiled. "Your education has been sadly neglected--and you +a schoolma'am, too!" + +"My walking education hasn't been neglected," Hazel retorted. "I don't +need to ride, thank you." + +"Yes, and stub your toe and fall down every ten feet," Bill observed. +"No, Miss Weir, your first lesson in horsemanship is now due--if you +aren't afraid of horses." + +"I'm not afraid of horses at all," Hazel declared. "But I don't think +it's a very good place to take riding lessons. I can just as well +walk, for I'm not in the least afraid." And then she added as an +afterthought: "How do you happen to know my name?" + +"In the same way that you know mine," Bill replied, "even if you +haven't mentioned it yet. Lord bless you, do you suppose Cariboo +Meadows could import a lady school-teacher from the civilized East +without everybody in fifty miles knowing who she was, and where she +came from, and what she looked like? You furnished them a subject for +conversation and speculation--the same as I do when I drop in there and +whoop it up for a while. I guess you don't realize what old granny +gossips we wild Westerners are. Especially where girls are concerned." + +Hazel stiffened a trifle. She did not like the idea of Cariboo Meadows +discussing her with such freedom. She was becoming sensitive on that +subject--since the coming and going of Mr. Howard Perkins, for she felt +that they were considering her from an angle that she did not relish. +She wondered also if Roaring Bill Wagstaff had heard that gossip. And +if he had-- At any rate, she could not accuse him of being impertinent +or curious in so far as she was concerned. After the first look and +exclamation of amazement he had taken her as a matter of course. If +anything, his personal attitude was tinctured with indifference. + +"Well," said he, "we won't argue the point." + +He disappeared into the dark again. This time he came back with the +crown of his hat full of water, which he sprinkled over the dwindling +fire. As the red glow of the embers faded in a sputter of steam and +ashes, Hazel realized more profoundly the blackness of a cloudy night +in the woods. Until her eyes accustomed themselves to the transition +from firelight to the gloom, she could see nothing but vague shapes +that she knew to be the horses, and another dim, moving object that was +Bill Wagstaff. Beyond that the inky canopy above and the forest +surrounding seemed a solid wall. + +"It's going to be nasty traveling, Miss Weir," Roaring Bill spoke at +her elbow. "I'll walk and lead the packs. You ride Silk. He's +gentle. All you have to do is sit still, and he'll stay right behind +the packs. I'll help you mount." + +If Hazel had still been inclined to insist on walking, she had no +chance to debate the question. Bill took her by the arm and led her up +beside the horse. It was a unique experience for her, this being +compelled to do things. No man had ever issued ultimatums to her. +Even Jack Barrow, with all an accepted lover's privileges, had never +calmly told her that she must do thus and so, and acted on the +supposition that his word was final. But here was Roaring Bill +Wagstaff telling her how to put her foot in the stirrup, putting her +for the first time in her life astride a horse, warning her to duck low +branches. In his mind there seemed to be no question as whether or not +she would ride. He had settled that. + +Unused to mounting, she blundered at the first attempt, and flushed in +the dark at Bill's amused chuckle. The next instant he caught her +under the arms, and, with the leverage of her one foot in the stirrup, +set her gently in the seat of the saddle. + +"You're such a little person," he said, "these stirrups are a mile too +long. Put your feet in the leather above--so. Now play follow your +leader. Give Silk his head." + +He moved away. The blurred shapes of the pack horses forged ahead, +rustling in the dry grass, dry twigs snapping under foot. Obedient to +Bill's command, she let the reins dangle, and Silk followed close +behind his mates. Hazel lurched unsteadily at first, but presently she +caught the swinging motion and could maintain her balance without +holding stiffly to the saddle horn. + +They crossed the small meadow and plunged into thick woods again. For +the greater part of the way Hazel could see nothing; she could tell +that Wagstaff and the pack horses moved before her by the sounds of +their progress, and that was all. Now and then low-hanging limbs +reached suddenly out of the dark, and touched her with unseen fingers, +or swept rudely across her face and hair. + +The night seemed endless as the wilderness itself. Unused to riding, +she became sore, and then the sore muscles stiffened. The chill of the +night air intensified. She grew cold, her fingers numb. She did not +know where she was going, and she was assailed with doubts of Roaring +Bill's ability to find Cariboo Meadows. + +For what seemed to her an interminable length of time they bore slowly +on through timber, crossed openings where the murk of the night thinned +a little, enabling her to see the dim form of Wagstaff plodding in the +lead. Again they dipped down steep slopes and ascended others as +steep, where Silk was forced to scramble, and Hazel kept a precarious +seat. She began to feel, with an odd heart sinking, that sufficient +time had elapsed for them to reach the Meadows, even by a roundabout +way. Then, as they crossed a tiny, gurgling stream, and came upon a +level place beyond, Silk bumped into the other horses and stopped. +Hazel hesitated a second. There was no sound of movement. + +"Mr. Wagstaff!" she called. + +"Yours truly," his voice hailed back, away to one side. "I'll be there +in a minute." + +In less time he appeared beside her. + +"Will you fall off, or be lifted off?" he said cheerfully. + +"Where are we?" she demanded. + +"Ask me something easy," he returned. "I've been going it blind for an +hour, trying to hit the Soda Creek Trail, or any old trail that would +show me where I am. It's no use. Too dark. A man couldn't find his +way over country that he knew to-night if he had a lantern and a +compass." + +"What on earth am I going to do?" Hazel cried desperately. + +"Camp here till daylight," Roaring Bill answered evenly. "The only +thing you can do. Good Lord!" His hand accidentally rested on hers. +"You're like ice. I didn't think about you getting cold riding. I'm a +mighty thoughtless escort, I'm afraid. Get down and put on a coat, and +I'll have a fire in a minute." + +"I suppose if I must, I must; but I can get off without any help, thank +you," Hazel answered ungraciously. + +Roaring Bill made no reply, but stood back, and when her feet touched +solid earth he threw over her boulders the coat he had worn himself. +Then he turned away, and Hazel saw him stooping here and there, and +heard the crack of dry sticks broken over his knee. In no time he was +back to the horses with an armful of dry stuff, and had a small blaze +licking up through dry grass and twigs. As it grew he piled on larger +sticks till the bright flame waved two feet high, lighting up the +near-by woods and shedding a bright glow on the three horses standing +patiently at hand. He paid no attention to Hazel until she came +timidly up to the fire. Then he looked up at her with his whimsical +smile. + +"That's right," he said; "come on and get warm. No use worrying--or +getting cross. I suppose from your civilized, conventional point of +view it's a terrible thing to be out in the woods all night alone with +a strange man. But I'm not a bear--I won't eat you." + +"I'm sorry if I seemed rude," Hazel said penitently; Roaring Bill's +statement was reassuring in its frankness. "I can't help thinking of +the disagreeable side of it. People talk so. I suppose I'll be a nine +days' wonder in Cariboo Meadows." + +Bill laughed softly. + +"Let them take it out in wondering," he advised. "Cariboo Meadows is a +very small and insignificant portion of the world, anyway." + +He went to one of the packs, and came back with a canvas cover, which +he spread on the ground. + +"Sit on that," he said. "The earth's always damp in the woods." + +Then he stripped the horses of their burdens and tied them out of sight +among the trees. That task finished, he took his ax and rustled a pile +of wood, dragging dead poles up to the fire and chopping them into +short lengths. When finally he laid aside his ax, he busied himself +with gathering grass and leaves and pine needles until he had several +armfuls collected and spread in an even pile to serve as a mattress. +Upon this he laid his bedding, two thick quilts, two or three pairs of +woolen blankets, a pillow, the whole inclosed with a long canvas sheet, +the bed tarpaulin of the cattle ranges. + +"There," he said; "you can turn in whenever you feel like it." + +For himself he took the saddle blankets and laid them close by the fire +within reaching distance of the woodpile, taking for cover a pack +canvas. He stretched himself full length, filled his pipe, lit it, and +fell to staring into the fire while he smoked. + +Half an hour later he raised his head and looked across the fire at +Hazel. + +"Why don't you go to bed?" he asked. + +"I'm not sleepy," she declared, which was a palpable falsehood, for her +eyelids were even then drooping. + +"Maybe not, but you need rest," Bill said quietly. "Quit thinking +things. It'll be all the same a hundred years from now. Go on to bed. +You'll be more comfortable." + +Thus peremptorily commanded, Hazel found herself granting instant +obedience. The bed, as Bill had remarked, was far more comfortable +than sitting by the fire. She got into the blankets just as she stood, +even to her shoes, and drew the canvas sheet up so that it hid her +face--but did not prevent her from seeing. + +In spite of herself, she slept fitfully. Now and then she would wake +with a start to a half-frightened realization of her surroundings and +plight, and whenever she did wake and look past the fire it was to see +Roaring Bill Wagstaff stretched out in the red glow, his brown head +pillowed on one folded arm. Once she saw him reach to the wood without +moving his body and lay a stick on the fire. + +Then all at once she wakened out of sound slumber with a violent start. +Roaring Bill was shaking the tarpaulin over her and laughing. + +"Arise, Miss Sleeping Beauty!" he said boyishly. "Breakfast's ready." + +He went back to the fire. Hazel sat up, patting her tousled hair into +some semblance of order. Off in the east a reddish streak spread +skyward into somber gray. In the west, black night gave ground slowly. + +"Well, it's another day," she whispered, as she had whispered to +herself once before. "I wonder if there will ever be any more like it?" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +IN DEEP WATER + +The dawn thrust aside night's somber curtains while they ate, revealing +a sky overcast with slaty clouds. What with her wanderings of the +night before and the journey through the dark with Roaring Bill, she +had absolutely no idea of either direction or locality. The infolding +timber shut off the outlook. Forest-clad heights upreared here and +there, but no landmark that she could place and use for a guide. She +could not guess whether Cariboo Meadows was a mile distant, or ten, nor +in what direction it might lie. If she had not done so before, she now +understood how much she had to depend on Roaring Bill Wagstaff. + +"Do you suppose I can get home in time to open school?" she inquired +anxiously. + +Roaring Bill smiled. "I don't know," he answered. "It all depends." + +Upon what it depended he did not specify, but busied himself packing +up. In half an hour or less they were ready to start. Bill spent a +few minutes longer shortening the stirrups, then signified that she +should mount. He seemed more thoughtful, less inclined to speech. + +"You know where you are now, don't you?" she asked. + +"Not exactly," he responded. "But I will before long--I hope." + +The ambiguity of his answer did not escape her. She puzzled over it +while Silk ambled sedately behind the other horses. She hoped that +Bill Wagstaff knew where he was going. If he did not--but she refused +to entertain the alternative. And she began to watch eagerly for some +sign of familiar ground. + +For two hours Roaring Bill tramped through aisles bordered with pine +and spruce and fir, through thickets of berry bush, and across limited +areas of grassy meadow. Not once did they cross a road or a trail. +With the clouds hiding the sun, she could not tell north from south +after they left camp. Eventually Bill halted at a small stream to get +a drink. Hazel looked at her watch. It was half past eight. + +"Aren't we ever going to get there?" she called impatiently. + +"Pretty soon," he called back, and struck out briskly again. + +Another hour passed. Ahead of her, leading one pack horse and letting +the other follow untrammeled, Roaring Bill kept doggedly on, halting +for nothing, never looking back. If he did not know where he was +going, he showed no hesitation. And Hazel had no choice but to follow. + +They crossed a ravine and slanted up a steep hillside. Presently Hazel +could look away over an area of woodland undulating like a heavy ground +swell at sea. Here and there ridges stood forth boldly above the +general roll, and distantly she could descry a white-capped mountain +range. They turned the end of a thick patch of pine scrub, and Bill +pulled up in a small opening. From a case swinging at his belt he took +out a pair of field glasses, and leisurely surveyed the country. + +"Well?" Hazel interrogated. + +She herself had cast an anxious glance over the wide sweep below and +beyond, seeing nothing but timber and hills, with the silver thread of +a creek winding serpent-wise through the green. But of habitation or +trail there was never a sign. And it was after ten o'clock. They were +over four hours from their camp ground. + +"Nothing in sight, is there?" Bill said thoughtfully. "If the sun was +out, now. Funny I can't spot that Soda Creek Trail." + +"Don't you know this country at all?" she asked gloomily. + +"I thought I did," he replied. "But I can't seem to get my bearings to +work out correctly. I'm awfully sorry to keep you in such a pickle. +But it can't be helped." + +Thus he disarmed her for the time being. She could not find fault with +a man who was doing his best to help her. If Roaring Bill were unable +to bear straight for the Meadows, it was unfortunate for her, but no +fault of his. At the same time, it troubled her more than she would +admit. + +"Well, we won't get anywhere standing on this hill," he remarked at +length. + +He took up the lead rope and moved on. They dropped over the ridge +crest and once more into the woods. Roaring Bill made his next halt +beside a spring, and fell to unlashing the packs. + +"What are you going to do?" Hazel asked. + +"Cook a bite, and let the horses graze," he told her. "Do you realize +that we've been going since daylight? It's near noon. Horses have to +eat and rest once in a while, just the same as human beings." + +The logic of this Hazel could not well deny, since she herself was +tired and ravenously hungry. By her watch it was just noon. + +Bill hobbled out his horses on the grass below the spring, made a fire, +and set to work cooking. For the first time the idea of haste seemed +to have taken hold of him. He worked silently at the meal getting, +fried steaks of venison, and boiled a pot of coffee. They ate. He +filled his pipe, and smoked while he repacked. Altogether, he did not +consume more than forty minutes at the noon halt. Hazel, now woefully +saddle sore, would fain have rested longer, and, in default of resting, +tried to walk and lead Silk. Roaring Bill offered no objection to +that. But he hit a faster gait. She could not keep up, and he did not +slacken pace when she began to fall behind. So she mounted awkwardly, +and Silk jolted and shook her with his trotting until he caught up with +his mates. Bill grinned over his shoulder. + +"You're learning fast," he called back. "You'll be able to run a pack +train by and by." + +The afternoon wore on without bringing them any nearer Cariboo Meadows +so far as Hazel could see. Traveling over a country swathed in timber +and diversified in contour, she could not tell whether Roaring Bill +swung in a circle or bore straight for some given point. + +She speculated futilely on the outcome of the strange plight she was +in. It was a far cry from pounding a typewriter in a city office to +jogging through the wilderness, lost beyond peradventure, her only +company a stranger of unsavory reputation. Yet she was not frightened, +for all the element of unreality. Under other circumstances she could +have relished the adventure, taken pleasure in faring gypsy fashion +over the wide reaches where man had left no mark. As it was-- + +She called a halt at four o'clock. + +"Mr. Wagstaff!" + +Bill stopped his horses and came back to her. + +"Aren't we _ever_ going to get anywhere?" she asked soberly. + +"Sure! But we've got to keep going. Got to make the best of a bad +job," he returned. "Getting pretty tired?" + +"I am," she admitted. "I'm afraid I can't ride much longer. I could +walk if you wouldn't go so fast. Aren't there any ranches in this +country at all?" + +He shook his head. "They're few and far between," he said. "Don't +worry, though. It isn't a life-and-death matter. If we were out here +without grub or horses it might be tough. You're in no danger from +exposure or hunger." + +"You don't seem to realize the position it puts me in," Hazel answered. +A wave of despondency swept over her, and her eyes grew suddenly bright +with the tears she strove to keep back. "If we wander around in the +woods much longer, I'll simply be a sensation when I do get back to +Cariboo Meadows. I won't have a shred of reputation left. It will +probably result in my losing the school. You're a man, and it's +different with you. You can't know what a girl has to contend with +where no one knows her. I'm a stranger in this country, and what +little they do know of me--" + +She stopped short, on the point of saying that what Cariboo Meadows +knew of her through the medium of Mr. Howard Perkins was not at all to +her credit. + +Roaring Bill looked up at her impassively. "I know," he said, as if he +had read her thought. "Your friend Perkins talked a lot. But what's +the difference? Cariboo Meadows is only a fleabite. If you're right, +and you know you're right, you can look the world in the eye and tell +it collectively to go to the devil. Besides, you've got a perverted +idea. People aren't so ready to give you the bad eye on somebody +else's say-so. It would take a lot more than a flash drummer's word to +convince me that you're a naughty little girl. Pshaw--forget it!" + +Hazel colored hotly at his mention of Perkins, but for the latter part +of his speech she could have hugged him. Bill Wagstaff went a long +way, in those brief sentences, toward demolishing her conviction that +no man ever overlooked an opportunity of taking advantage of a woman. +But Bill said nothing further. He stood a moment longer by her horse, +resting one hand on Silk's mane, and scraping absently in the soft +earth with the toe of his boot. + +"Well, let's get somewhere," he said abruptly. "If you're too saddle +sore to ride, walk a while. I'll go slower." + +She walked, and the exercise relieved the cramping ache in her limbs. +Roaring Bill's slower pace was fast enough at that. She followed till +her strength began to fail. And when in spite of her determination she +lagged behind, he stopped at the first water. + +"We'll camp here," he said. "You're about all in, and we can't get +anywhere to-night, I see plainly." + +Hazel accepted this dictum as best she could. She eat down on a mossy +rock while he stripped the horses of their gear and staked them out. +Then Bill started a fire and fixed the roll of bedding by it for her to +sit on. Dusk crept over the forest while he cooked supper, making a +bannock in the frying pan to take the place of bread; and when they had +finished eating and washed the few dishes, night shut down black as the +pit. + +They talked little. Hazel was in the grip of utter forlornness, moody, +wishful to cry. Roaring Bill lumped on his side of the fire, staring +thoughtfully into the blaze. After a long period of abstraction he +glanced at his watch, then arose and silently arranged her bed. After +that he spread his saddle blankets and lay down. + +Hazel crept into the covers and quietly sobbed herself to sleep. The +huge and silent land appalled her. She had been chucked neck and crop +into the primitive, and she had not yet been able to react to her +environment. She was neither faint-hearted nor hysterical. The grind +of fending for herself in a city had taught her the necessity of +self-control. But she was worn out, unstrung, and there is a limit to +a woman's endurance. + +As on the previous night, she wakened often and glanced over to the +fire. Roaring Bill kept his accustomed position, flat in the glow. +She had no fear of him now. But he was something of an enigma. She +had few illusions about men in general. She had encountered a good +many of them in one way and another since reaching the age when she +coiled her hair on top of her head. And she could not recall one--not +even Jack Barrow--with whom she would have felt at ease in a similar +situation. She knew that there was a something about her that drew +men. If the presence of her had any such effect on Bill Wagstaff, he +painstakingly concealed it. + +And she was duly grateful for that. She had not believed it a +characteristic of his type--the virile, intensely masculine type of +man. But she had not once found him looking at her with the same +expression in his eyes that she had seen once over Jim Briggs' dining +table. + +Night passed, and dawn ushered in a clearing sky. Ragged wisps of +clouds chased each other across the blue when they set out again. +Hazel walked the stiffness out of her muscles before she mounted. When +she did get on Silk, Roaring Bill increased his pace. He was +long-legged and light of foot, apparently tireless. She asked no +questions. What was the use? He would eventually come out somewhere. +She was resigned to wait. + +After a time she began to puzzle, and the old uneasiness came back. +The last trailing banner of cloud vanished, and the sun rode clear in +an opal sky, smiling benignly down on the forested land. She was thus +enabled to locate the cardinal points of the compass. Wherefore she +took to gauging their course by the shadows. And the result was what +set her thinking. Over level and ridge and swampy hollow, Roaring Bill +drove straight north in an undeviating line. She recollected that the +point from which she had lost her way had lain northeast of Cariboo +Meadows. Even if they had swung in a circle, they could scarcely be +pointing for the town in that direction. For another hour Bill held to +the northern line as a needle holds to the pole. A swift rush of +misgiving seized her. + +"Mr. Wagstaff!" she called sharply. + +Roaring Bill stopped, and she rode Silk up past the pack horses. + +"Where are you taking me?" she demanded. + +"Why, I'm taking you home--or trying to," he answered mildly. + +"But you're going _north_," she declared. "You've been going north all +morning. I was north of Cariboo Meadows when I got lost. How can we +get back to Cariboo Meadows by going still farther north?" + +"You're more of a woodsman than I imagined," Bill remarked gently. He +smiled up at her, and drew out his pipe and tobacco pouch. + +She looked at him for a minute. "Do you know where we are now?" she +asked quietly. + +He met her keen gaze calmly. "I do," he made laconic answer. + +"Which way is Cariboo Meadows, then, and how far is it?" she demanded. + +"General direction south," he replied slowly. "Fifty miles more or +less. Rather more than less." + +"And you've been leading me straight north!" she cried. "Oh, what am I +going to do?" + +"Keep right on going," Wagstaff answered. + +"I won't--I won't!" she flashed. "I'll find my own way back. What +devilish impulse prompted you to do such a thing?" + +"You'll have a beautiful time of it," he said dryly, completely +ignoring her last question. "Take you three days to walk there--if you +knew every foot of the way. And you don't know the way. Traveling in +timber is confusing, as you've discovered. You'll never see Cariboo +Meadows, or any other place, if you tackle it single-handed, without +grub or matches or bedding. It's fall, remember. A snowstorm is due +any time. This is a whopping big country. A good many men have got +lost in it--and other men have found their bones." + +He let this sink in while she sat there on his horse choking back a +wild desire to curse him by bell, book, and candle for what he had +done, and holding in check the fear of what he might yet do. She knew +him to be a different type of man from any she had ever encountered. +She could not escape the conclusion that Roaring Bill Wagstaff was +something of a law unto himself, capable of hewing to the line of his +own desires at any cost. She realized her utter helplessness, and the +realization left her without words. He had drawn a vivid picture, and +the instinct of self-preservation asserted itself. + +"You misled me." She found her voice at last. "Why?" + +"Did I mislead you?" he parried. "Weren't you already lost when you +came to my camp? And have I mistreated you in any manner? Have I +refused you food, shelter, or help?" + +"My home is in Cariboo Meadows," she persisted. "I asked you to take +me there. You led me away from there deliberately, I believe now." + +"My trail doesn't happen to lead to Cariboo Meadows, that's all," +Roaring Bill coolly told her. "If you must go back there, I shan't +restrain you in any way whatever. But I'm for home myself. And that," +he came close, and smiled frankly up at her, "is a better place than +Cariboo Meadows. I've got a little house back there in the woods. +There's a big fireplace where the wind plays tag with the snowflakes in +winter time. There's grub there, and meat in the forest, and fish in +the streams. It's home for me. Why should I go back to Cariboo +Meadows? Or you?" + +"Why should _I_ go with you?" she demanded scornfully. + +"Because I want you to," he murmured. + +They matched glances for a second, Wagstaff smiling, she half horrified. + +"Are you clean mad?" she asked angrily. "I was beginning to think you +a gentleman." + +Bill threw back his head and laughed. Then on the instant he sobered. +"Not a gentleman," he said. "I'm just plain man. And lonesome +sometimes for a mate, as nature has ordained to be the way of flesh." + +"Get a squaw, then," she sneered. "I've heard that such people as you +do that." + +"Not me," he returned, unruffled. "I want a woman of my own kind." + +"Heaven save _me_ from that classification!" she observed, with +emphasis on the pronoun. + +"Yes?" he drawled. "Well, there's no profit in arguing that point. +Let's be getting on." + +He reached for the lead rope of the nearest pack horse. + +Hazel urged Silk up a step. "Mr. Wagstaff," she cried, "I must go +back." + +"You can't go back without me," he said. "And I'm not traveling that +way, thank you." + +"Please--oh, please!" she begged forlornly. + +Roaring Bill's face hardened. "I will not," he said flatly. "I'm +going to play the game my way. And I'll play fair. That's the only +promise I will make." + +She took a look at the encompassing woods, and her heart sank at facing +those shadowy stretches alone and unguided. The truth of his statement +that she would never reach Cariboo Meadows forced itself home. There +was but the one way out, and her woman's wit would have to save her. + +"Go on, then," she gritted, in a swift surge of anger. "I am afraid to +face this country alone. I admit my helplessness. But so help me +Heaven, I'll make you pay for this dirty trick! You're not a man! +You're a cur--a miserable, contemptible scoundrel!" + +"Whew!" Roaring Bill laughed. "Those are pretty names. Just the same, +I admire your grit. Well, here we go!" + +He took up the lead rope, and went on without even looking back to see +if she followed. If he had made the slightest attempt to force her to +come, if he had betrayed the least uncertainty as to whether she would +come, Hazel would have swung down from the saddle and set her face +stubbornly southward in sheer defiance of him. But such is the +peculiar complexity of a woman that she took one longing glance +backward, and then fell in behind the packs. She was weighted down +with dread of the unknown, boiling over with rage at the man who swung +light-footed in the lead; but nevertheless she followed him. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT + +All the rest of that day they bore steadily northward. Hazel had no +idea of Bill Wagstaff's destination. She was too bitter against him to +ask, after admitting that she could not face the wilderness alone. +Between going it alone and accompanying him, it seemed to be a case of +choosing the lesser evil. Curiously she felt no fear of Bill Wagstaff +in person, and she did have a dread vision of what might happen to her +if she went wandering alone in the woods. There was one loophole left +to comfort her. It seemed scarcely reasonable that they could fare on +forever without encountering other frontier folk. Upon that +possibility she based her hopes of getting back to civilization, not so +much for love of civilization as to defeat Roaring Bill's object, to +show him that a woman had to be courted rather than carried away +against her will by any careless, strong-armed male. She knew nothing +of the North, but she thought there must be some mode of communication +or transportation. If she could once get in touch with other +people--well, she would show Roaring Bill. Of course, getting back to +Cariboo Meadows meant a new start in the world, for she had no hope, +nor any desire, to teach school there after this episode. She found +herself facing that prospect unmoved, however. The important thing was +getting out of her present predicament. + +Roaring Bill made his camp that night as if no change in their attitude +had taken place. To all his efforts at conversation she turned a deaf +ear and a stony countenance. She proposed to eat his food and use his +bedding, because that was necessary. But socially she would have none +of him. Bill eventually gave over trying to talk. But he lost none of +his cheerfulness. He lay on his own side of the fire, regarding her +with the amused tolerance that one bestows upon the capricious temper +of a spoiled child. + +Thereafter, day by day, the miles unrolled behind them. Always Roaring +Bill faced straight north. For a week he kept on tirelessly, and a +consuming desire to know how far he intended to go began to take hold +of her. But she would not ask, even when daily association dulled the +edge of her resentment, and she found it hard to keep up her hostile +attitude, to nurse bitterness against a man who remained serenely +unperturbed, and who, for all his apparent lawlessness, treated her as +a man might treat his sister. + +To her unpracticed eye, the character of the country remained unchanged +except for minor variations. Everywhere the timber stood in serried +ranks, spotted with lakes and small meadows, and threaded here and +there with little streams. But at last they dropped into a valley +where the woods thinned out, and down the center of which flowed a +sizable river. This they followed north a matter of three days. On +the west the valley wall ran to a timbered ridge. Eastward the jagged +peaks of a snow-capped mountain chain pierced the sky. + +Two hours from their noon camp on the fourth day in the valley Hazel +sighted some moving objects in the distance, angling up on the +timber-patched hillside. She watched them, at first uncertain whether +they were moose, which they had frequently encountered, or domestic +animals. Accustomed by now to gauging direction at a glance toward the +sun, she observed that these objects traveled south. + +Presently, as the lines of their respective travel brought them nearer, +she made them out to be men, mounted, and accompanied by packs. She +counted the riders--five, and as many pack horses. One, she felt +certain, was a woman--whether white or red she could not tell. +But--there was safety in numbers. And they were going south. + +Upon her first impulse she swung off Silk, and started for the +hillside, at an angle calculated to intercept the pack train. There +was a chance, and she was rapidly becoming inured to taking chances. +At a distance of a hundred yards, she looked back, half fearful that +Roaring Bill was at her heels. But he stood with his hands in his +pockets, watching her. She did not look again until she was half a +mile up the hill. Then he and his packs had vanished. + +So, too, had the travelers that she was hurrying to meet. Off the +valley floor, she no longer commanded the same sweeping outlook. The +patches of timber intervened. As she kept on, she became more +uncertain. But she bore up the slope until satisfied that she was +parallel with where they should come out; then she stopped to rest. +After a few minutes she climbed farther, endeavoring to reach a point +whence she could see more of the slope. In so far had she absorbed +woodcraft that she now began watching for tracks. There were enough of +these, but they were the slender, triangle prints of the shy deer. +Nothing resembling the hoofmark of a horse rewarded her searching. And +before long, what with turning this way and that, she found herself on +a plateau where the pine and spruce stood like bristles in a brush, and +from whence she could see neither valley below nor hillside above. + +She was growing tired. Her feet ached from climbing, and she was wet +with perspiration. She rested again, and tried calling. But her voice +sounded muffled in the timber, and she soon gave over that. The +afternoon was on the wane, and she began to think of and dread the +coming of night. Already the sun had dipped out of sight behind the +western ridges; his last beams were gilding the blue-white pinnacles a +hundred miles to the east. The shadows where she sat were thickening. +She had given up hope of finding the pack train, and she had cut loose +from Roaring Bill. It would be just like him to shrug his shoulders +and keep on going, she thought resentfully. + +As twilight fell a brief panic seized her, followed by frightened +despair. The wilderness, in its evening hush, menaced her with huge +emptinesses, utter loneliness. She worked her way to the edge of the +wooded plateau. There was a lingering gleam of yellow and rose pink on +the distant mountains, but the valley itself lay in a blur of shade, +out of which rose the faint murmur of running water, a monotone in the +silence. She sat down on a dead tree, and cried softly to herself. + +"Well?" + +She started, with an involuntary gasp of fear, it was so unexpected. +Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, resting one hand +on the muzzle of his grounded rifle, smiling placidly. + +[Illustration: Roaring Bill Wagstaff stood within five feet of her, +resting one hand on the muzzle of his grounded rifle.] + +"Well," he repeated, "this chasing up a pack train isn't so easy as it +looks, eh?" + +She did not answer. Her pride would not allow her to admit that she +was glad to see him, relieved to be overtaken like a truant from +school. And Bill did not seem to expect a reply. He slung his rifle +into the crook of his arm. + +"Come on, little woman," he said gently. "I knew you'd be tired, and I +made camp down below. It isn't far." + +Obediently she followed him, and as she tramped at his heels she saw +why he had been able to come up on her so noiselessly. He had put on a +pair of moccasins, and his tread gave forth no sound. + +"How did you manage to find me?" she asked suddenly--the first +voluntary speech from her in days. + +Bill answered over his shoulder: + +"Find you? Bless your soul, your little, high-heeled slices left a +trail a one-eyed man could follow. I've been within fifty yards of you +for two hours. + +"Just the same," he continued, after a minute's interval, "it's bad +business for you to run off like that. Suppose you played hide and +seek with me till a storm wiped out your track? You'd be in a deuce of +a fix." + +She made no reply. The lesson of the experience was not lost on her, +but she was not going to tell him so. + +In a short time they reached camp. Roaring Bill had tarried long +enough to unpack. The horses grazed on picket. It was borne in upon +her that short of actually meeting other people her only recourse lay +in sticking to Bill Wagstaff, whether she liked it or not. To strike +out alone was courting self-destruction. And she began to understand +why Roaring Bill made no effort to watch or restrain her. He knew the +grim power of the wilderness. It was his best ally in what he had set +out to do. + +Within forty-eight hours the stream they followed merged itself in +another, both wide and deep, which flowed west through a level-bottomed +valley three miles or more in width. Westward the land spread out in a +continuous roll, marked here and there with jutting ridges and isolated +peaks; but on the east a chain of rugged mountains marked the horizon +as far as she could see. + +Roaring Bill halted on the river brink and stripped his horses clean, +though it was but two in the afternoon and their midday fire less than +an hour extinguished. She watched him curiously. When his packs were +off he beckoned her. + +"Hold them a minute," he said, and put the lead ropes in her hand. + +Then he went up the bank into a thicket of saskatoons. Out of this he +presently emerged, bearing on his shoulders a canoe, old and +weather-beaten, but stanch, for it rode light as a feather on the +stream. Bill seated himself in the canoe, holding to Silk's lead rope. +The other two he left free. + +"Now," he directed, "when I start across, you drive Nigger and Satin in +if they show signs of hanging back. Bounce a rock or two off them if +they lag." + +Her task was an easy one, for Satin and Nigger followed Silk +unhesitatingly. The river lapped along the sleek sides of them for +fifty yards. Then they dropped suddenly into swimming water, and the +current swept them downstream slantwise for the opposite shore, only +their heads showing above the surface. Hazel wondered what river it +might be. It was a good quarter of a mile wide, and swift. + +Roaring Bill did not trouble to enlighten her as to the locality. When +he got back he stowed the saddle and pack equipment in the canoe. + +"All aboard for the north side," he said boyishly. And Hazel climbed +obediently amidships. + +On the farther side, Bill emptied the canoe, and stowed it out of sight +in a convenient thicket, repacked his horses, and struck out again. +They left the valley behind, and camped that evening on a great height +of land that rolled up to the brink of the valley. + +Thereafter the country underwent a gradual change as they progressed +north, slanting a bit eastward. The heavy timber gave way to a sparser +growth, and that in turn dwindled to scrubby thickets, covering great +areas of comparative level. Long reaches of grassland opened before +them, waving yellow in the autumn sun. They crossed other rivers of +various degrees of depth and swiftness, swimming some and fording +others. Hazel drew upon her knowledge of British Columbia geography, +and decided that the big river where Bill hid his canoe must be the +Fraser where it debouched from the mountains. And in that case she was +far north, and in a wilderness indeed. + +Her muscles gradually hardened to the saddle and to walking. Her +appetite grew in proportion. The small supply of eatable dainties that +Roaring Bill had brought from the Meadows dwindled and disappeared, +until they were living on bannocks baked a la frontier in his frying +pan, on beans and coffee, and venison killed by the way. Yet she +relished the coarse fare even while she rebelled against the +circumstances of its partaking. Occasionally Bill varied the meat diet +with trout caught in the streams beside which they made their various +camps. He offered to teach her the secrets of angling, but she +shrugged her shoulders by way of showing her contempt for Roaring Bill +and all his works. + +"Do you realize," she broke out one evening over the fire, "that this +is simply abduction?" + +"Not at all," Bill answered promptly. "Abduction means to take away +surreptitiously by force, to carry away wrongfully and by violence any +human being, to kidnap. Now, you can't by any stretch of the +imagination accuse me of force, violence, or kidnaping--not by a long +shot. You merely wandered into my camp, and it wasn't convenient for +me to turn back. Therefore circumstances--not my act, remember--made +it advisable for you to accompany me. Of course I'll admit that, +according to custom and usage, you would expect me to do the polite +thing and restore you to your own stamping ground. But there's no law +making it mandatory for a fellow to pilot home a lady in distress. +Isn't that right?" + +"Anyhow," he went on, when she remained silent, "I didn't. And you'll +have to lay the blame on nature for making you a wonderfully attractive +woman. I did honestly try to find the way to Cariboo Meadows that +first night. It was only when I found myself thinking how fine it +would be to pike through these old woods and mountains with a partner +like you that I decided--as I did. I'm human--the woman, she tempted +me. And aren't you better off? I could hazard a guess that you were +running away from yourself--or something--when you struck Cariboo +Meadows. And what's Cariboo Meadows but a little blot on the face of +this fair earth, where you were tied to a deadly routine in order to +earn your daily bread? You don't care two whoops about anybody there. +Here you are free--free in every sense of the word. You have no +responsibility except what you impose on yourself; no board bills to +pay; nobody to please but your own little self. You've got the clean, +wide land for a bedroom, and the sky for its ceiling, instead of a +stuffy little ten-by-ten chamber. Do you know that you look fifty per +cent better for these few days of living in the open--the way every +normal being likes to live? You're getting some color in your cheeks, +and you're losing that worried, archangel look. Honest, if I were a +physician, I'd have only one prescription: Get out into the wild +country, and live off the country as your primitive forefathers did. +Of course, you can't do that alone. I know because I've tried it. We +humans don't differ so greatly from the other animals. We're made to +hunt in couples or packs. There's a purpose, a law, you might say, +behind that, too; only it's terribly obscured by a lot of other +nonessentials in this day and age. + +"Is there any comparison between this sort of life, for instance--if it +appeals to one at all--and being a stenographer and bucking up against +the things any good-looking, unprotected girl gets up against in a +city? You know, if you'd be frank, that there isn't. Shucks! Herding +in the mass, and struggling for a mere subsistence, like dogs over a +bone, degenerates man physically, mentally, and morally--all our +vaunted civilization and culture to the contrary notwithstanding. Eh?" + +But she would not take up the cudgels against him, would not seem to +countenance or condone his offense by discussing it from any angle +whatsoever. And she was the more determined to allow no degree of +friendliness, even in conversation, because she recognized the +masterful quality of the man. She told herself that she could have +liked Roaring Bill Wagstaff very well if he had not violated what she +considered the rules of the game. And she had no mind to allow his +personality to sweep her off her feet in the same determined manner +that he had carried her into the wilderness. She was no longer afraid +of him. She occasionally forgot, in spite of herself, that she had a +deep-seated grievance against him. At such times the wild land, the +changing vistas the journey opened up, charmed her into genuine +enjoyment. She would find herself smiling at Bill's quaint tricks of +speech. Then she would recollect that she was, to all intents and +purposes, a prisoner, the captive of his bow and spear. That was +maddening. + +After a lapse of time they dropped into another valley, and faced +westward to a mountain range which Bill told her was the Rockies. The +next day a snowstorm struck them. At daybreak the clouds were massed +overhead, lowering, and a dirty gray. An uncommon chill, a rawness of +atmosphere foretold the change. And shortly after they broke camp the +first snowflakes began to drift down, slowly at first, then more +rapidly, until the grayness of the sky and the misty woods were +enveloped in the white swirl of the storm. It was not particularly +cold. Bill wrapped her in a heavy canvas coat, and plodded on. Noon +passed, and he made no stop. If anything, he increased his pace. + +Suddenly, late in the afternoon, they stepped out of the timber into a +little clearing, in which the blurred outline of a cabin showed under +the wide arms of a leafless tree. + +The melting snow had soaked through the coat; her feet were wet with +the clinging flakes, and the chill of a lowering temperature had set +Hazel shivering. + +Roaring Bill halted at the door and lifted her down from Silk's back +without the formality of asking her leave. He pulled the latchstring, +and led her in. Beside the rude stone fireplace wood and kindling were +piled in readiness for use. Bill kicked the door shut, dropped on his +knees, and started the fire. In five minutes a great blaze leaped and +crackled into the wide throat of the chimney. Then he piled on more +wood, and turned to her. + +"This is the house that Jack built," he said, with a sober face and a +twinkle in his gray eyes. "This is the man that lives in the house +that Jack built. And this"--he pointed mischievously at her--"is the +woman who's going to love the man that lives in the house that Jack +built." + +"That's a lie!" she flashed stormily through her chattering teeth. + +"Well, we'll see," he answered cheerfully. "Get up here close to the +fire and take off those wet things while I put away the horses." + +And with that he went out, whistling. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A LITTLE PERSONAL HISTORY + +Hazel discarded the wet coat, and, drawing a chair up to the fire, took +off her sopping footgear and toasted her bare feet at the blaze. Her +clothing was also wet, and she wondered pettishly how in the world she +was going to manage with only the garments on her back--and those dirty +and torn from hacking through the brush for a matter of two weeks. +According to her standards, that was roughing it with a vengeance. But +presently she gave over thinking of her plight. The fire warmed her, +and, with the chill gone from her body, she bestowed a curious glance +on her surroundings. + +Her experience of homes embraced only homes of two sorts--the +middle-class, conventional sort to which she had been accustomed, and +the few poorly furnished frontier dwellings she had entered since +coming to the hinterlands of British Columbia. She had a vague +impression that any dwelling occupied exclusively by a man must of +necessity be dirty, disordered, and cheerless. But she had never seen +a room such as the one she now found herself in. It conformed to none +of her preconceived ideas. + +There was furniture of a sort unknown to her, tables and chairs +fashioned by hand with infinite labor and rude skill, massive in +structure, upholstered with the skins of wild beasts common to the +region. Upon the walls hung pictures, dainty black-and-white prints, +and a water color or two. And between the pictures were nailed heads +of mountain sheep and goat, the antlers of deer and caribou. Above +the fireplace spread the huge shovel horns of a moose, bearing across +the prongs a shotgun and fishing rods. The center of the +floor--itself, as she could see, of hand-smoothed logs--was lightened +with a great black and red and yellow rug of curious weave. Covering +up the bare surface surrounding it were bearskins, black and brown. +Her feet rested in the fur of a monster silvertip, fur thicker and +softer than the pile of any carpet ever fabricated by man. All around +the walls ran shelves filled with books. A guitar stood in one corner, +a mandolin in another. The room was all of sixteen by twenty feet, and +it was filled with trophies of the wild--and books. + +Except for the dust that had gathered lightly in its owner's absence, +the place was as neat and clean as if the housemaid had but gone over +it. Hazel shrugged her shoulders. Roaring Bill Wagstaff became, if +anything, more of an enigma than ever, in the light of his dwelling. +She recollected that Cariboo Meadows had regarded him askance, and +wondered why. + +He came in while her gaze was still roving from one object to another, +and threw his wet outer clothing, boy fashion, on the nearest chair. + +"Well," he said, "we're here." + +"Please don't forget, Mr. Wagstaff," she replied coldly, "that I would +much prefer not to be here." + +He stood a moment regarding her with his odd smile. Then he went into +the adjoining room. Out of this he presently emerged, dragging a small +steamer trunk. He opened it, got down on his knees, and pawed over the +contents. Hazel, looking over her shoulder, saw that the trunk was +filled with woman's garments, and sat amazed. + +"Say, little person," Bill finally remarked, "it looks to me as if you +could outfit yourself completely right here." + +"I don't know that I care to deck myself in another woman's finery, +thank you," she returned perversely. + +"Now, see here," Roaring Bill turned reproachfully; "see here--" + +He grinned to himself then, and went again into the other room, +returning with a small, square mirror. He planted himself squarely in +front of her, and held up the glass. Hazel took one look at her +reflection, and she could have struck Roaring Bill for his audacity. +She had not realized what an altogether disreputable appearance a +normally good-looking young woman could acquire in two weeks on the +trail, with no toilet accessories and only the clothes on her back. +She tried to snatch the mirror from him, but Bill eluded her reach, and +laid the glass on the table. + +"You'll feel a whole better able to cope with the situation," he told +her smilingly, "when you get some decent clothes on and your hair +fixed. That's a woman. And you don't need to feel squeamish about +these things. This trunk's got a history, let me tell you. A bunch of +simon-pure tenderfeet strayed into the mountains west of here a couple +of summers ago. There were two women in the bunch. The youngest one, +who was about your age and size, must have had more than her share of +vanity. I guess she figured on charming the bear and the moose, or the +simple aborigines who dwell in this neck of the woods. Anyhow, she had +all kinds of unnecessary fixings along, that trunkful of stuff in the +lot. You can imagine what a nice time their guides had packing that on +a horse, eh? They got into a deuce of a pickle finally, and had to +abandon a lot of their stuff, among other things the steamer trunk. I +lent them a hand, and they told me to help myself to the stuff. So I +did after they were out of the country. That's how you come to have a +wardrobe all ready to your hand. Now, you'd be awful foolish to act +like a mean and stiff-necked female person. You're not going to, are +you?" he wheedled. "Because I want to make you comfortable. What's +the use of getting on your dignity over a little thing like clothes?" + +"I don't intend to," Hazel suddenly changed front. "I'll make myself +as comfortable as I can--particularly if it will put you to any +trouble." + +"You're bound to scrap, eh?" he grinned. "But it takes two to build a +fight, and I positively refuse to fight with _you_." + +He dragged the trunk back into the room, and came out carrying a great +armful of masculine belongings. Two such trips he made, piling all his +things onto a chair. + +"There!" he said at last. "That end of the house belongs to you, +little person. Now, get those wet things off before you catch a cold. +Oh, wait a minute!" + +He disappeared into the kitchen end of the house, and came back with a +wash-basin and a pail of water. + +"Your room is now ready, madam, an it please you." He bowed with mock +dignity, and went back into the kitchen. + +Hazel heard him rattling pots and dishes, whistling cheerfully the +while. She closed the door, and busied herself with an inventory of +the tenderfoot lady's trunk. In it she found everything needful for +complete change, and a variety of garments to boot. Folded in the +bottom of the trunk was a gray cloth skirt and a short blue silk +kimono. There was a coat and skirt, too, of brown corduroy. But the +feminine instinct asserted itself, and she laid out the gray skirt and +the kimono. + +For a dresser Roaring Bill had fashioned a wide shelf, and on it she +found a toilet set complete--hand mirror, military brushes, and sundry +articles, backed with silver and engraved with his initials. Perhaps +with a spice of malice, she put on a few extra touches. There would be +some small satisfaction in tantalizing Bill Wagstaff--even if she could +not help feeling that it might be a dangerous game. And, thus arrayed +in the weapons of her sex, she slipped on the kimono, and went into the +living-room to the cheerful glow of the fire. + +Bill remained busy in the kitchen. Dusk fell. The gleam of a light +showed through a crack in the door. In the big room only the fire gave +battle to the shadows, throwing a ruddy glow into the far corners. +Presently Bill came in with a pair of candles which he set on the +mantel above the fireplace. + +"By Jove!" he said, looking down at her. "You look good enough to eat! +I'm not a cannibal, however," he continued hastily, when Hazel flushed. +She was not used to such plain speaking. "And supper's ready. Come +on!" + +The table was set. Moreover, to her surprise--and yet not so greatly +to her surprise, for she was beginning to expect almost anything from +this paradoxical young man--it was spread with linen, and the cutlery +was silver, the dishes china, in contradistinction to the tinware of +his camp outfit. + +As a cook Roaring Bill Wagstaff had no cause to be ashamed of himself, +and Hazel enjoyed the meal, particularly since she had eaten nothing +since six in the morning. After a time, when her appetite was +partially satisfied, she took to glancing over his kitchen. There +seemed to be some adjunct of a kitchen missing. A fire burned on a +hearth similar to the one in the living room. Pots stood about the +edge of the fire. But there was no sign of a stove. + +Bill finished eating, and resorted to cigarette material instead of his +pipe. + +"Well, little person," he said at last, "what do you think of this +joint of mine, anyway?" + +"I've just been wondering," she replied. "I don't see any stove, yet +you have food here that looks as if it were baked, and biscuits that +must have been cooked in an oven." + +"You see no stove for the good and sufficient reason," he returned, +"that you can't pack a stove on a horse--and we're three hundred odd +miles from the end of any wagon road. With a Dutch oven or two--that +heavy, round iron thing you see there--I can guarantee to cook almost +anything you can cook on a stove. Anybody can if they know how. +Besides, I like things better this way. If I didn't, I suppose I'd +have a stove--and maybe a hot-water supply, and modern plumbing. As it +is, it affords me a sort of prideful satisfaction, which you may or may +not be able to understand, that this cabin and everything in it is the +work of my hands--of stuff I've packed in here with all sorts of effort +from the outside. Maybe I'm a freak. But I'm proud of this place. +Barring the inevitable lonesomeness that comes now and then, I can be +happier here than any place I've ever struck yet. This country grows +on one." + +"Yes--on one's nerves," Hazel retorted. + +Bill smiled, and, rising, began to clear away the dishes. Hazel +resisted an impulse to help. She would not work; she would not lift +her finger to any task, she reminded herself. He had put her in her +present position, and he could wait on her. So she rested an elbow on +the table and watched him. In the midst of his work he stopped +suddenly. + +"There's oceans of time to do this," he observed. "I'm just a wee bit +tired, if anybody should ask you. Let's camp in the other room. It's +a heap more comfy." + +He put more wood on the kitchen fire, and set a pot of water to heat. +Out in the living-room Hazel drew her chair to one side of the hearth. +Bill sprawled on the bearskin robe with another cigarette in his +fingers. + +"No," he began, after a long silence, "this country doesn't get on +one's nerves--not if one is a normal human being. You'll find that. +When I first came up here I thought so, too; it seemed so big and empty +and forbidding. But the more I see of it the better it compares with +the outer world, where the extremes of luxury and want are always in +evidence. It began to seem like home to me when I first looked down +into this little basin. I had a partner then. I said to him: 'Here's +a dandy, fine place to winter.' So we wintered--in a log shack sixteen +foot square that Silk and Satin and Nigger have for a stable now. When +summer came my partner wanted to move on, so I stayed. Stayed and +began to build for the next winter. And I've been working at it ever +since, making little things like chairs and tables and shelves, and +fixing up game heads whenever I got an extra good one. And maybe two +or three times a year I'd go out. Get restless, you know. I'm not +really a hermit by nature. Lord, the things I've packed in here from +the outside! Books--I hired a whole pack train at Ashcroft once to +bring in just books; they thought I was crazy, I guess. I've quit this +place once or twice, but I always come back. It's got that home feel +that I can't find anywhere else. Only it has always lacked one +important home qualification," he finished softly. "Do you ever build +air castles?" + +"No," Hazel answered untruthfully, uneasy at the trend of his talk. +She was learning that Bill Wagstaff, for all his gentleness and +patience with her, was a persistent mortal. + +"Well, I do," he continued, unperturbed. "Lots of 'em. But mostly +around one thing--a woman--a dream woman--because I never saw one that +seemed to fit in until I ran across you." + +"Mr. Wagstaff," Hazel pleaded, "won't you please stop talking like +that? It isn't--it isn't--" + +"Isn't proper, I suppose," Bill supplied dryly. "Now, that's merely an +error, and a fundamental error on your part, little person. Our +emotion and instincts are perfectly proper when you get down to +fundamentals. You've got an artificial standard to judge by, that's +all. And I don't suppose you have the least idea how many lives are +spoiled one way and another by the operation of those same artificial +standards in this little old world. Now, I may seem to you a lawless, +unprincipled individual indeed, because I've acted contrary to your +idea of the accepted order of things. But here's my side of it: I'm in +search of happiness. We all are. I have a few ideals--and very few +illusions. I don't quite believe in this thing called love at first +sight. That presupposes a volatility of emotion that people of any +strength of character arc not likely to indulge in. But--for instance, +a man can have a very definite ideal of the kind of woman he would like +for a mate, the kind of woman he could be happy with and could make +happy. And whenever he finds a woman who corresponds to that ideal +he's apt to make a strenuous attempt to get her. That's pretty much +how I felt about you." + +"You had no right to kidnap me," Hazel cried. + +"You had no business getting lost and making it possible for me to +carry you off," Bill replied. "Isn't that logic?" + +"I'll never forgive you," Hazel flashed. "It was treacherous and +unmanly. There are other ways of winning a woman." + +"There wasn't any other way open to me." Bill grew suddenly moody. +"Not with you in Cariboo Meadows. I'm taboo there. You'd have got a +history of me that would have made you cut me dead; you may have had +the tale of my misdeeds for all I know. No, it was impossible for me +to get acquainted with you in the conventional way. I knew that, and +so I didn't make any effort. Why, I'd have been at your elbow when you +left the supper table at Jim Briggs' that night if I hadn't known how +it would be. I went there out of sheer curiosity to take a look at +you--maybe out of a spirit of defiance, too, because I knew that I was +certainly not welcome even if they were willing to take my money for a +meal. And I came away all up in the air. There was something about +you--the tone of your voice, the way your proud little head is set on +your shoulders, your make-up in general--that sent me away with a +large-sized grouch at myself, at Cariboo Meadows, and at you for coming +in my way." + +"Why?" she asked in wonder. + +"Because you'd have believed what they told you, and Cariboo Meadows +can't tell anything about me that isn't bad," he said quietly. "My +record there makes me entirely unfit to associate with--that would have +been your conclusion. And I wanted to be with you, to talk to you, to +take you by storm and make you like me as I felt I could care for you. +You can't have grown up, little person, without realizing that you do +attract men very strongly. All women do, but some far more than +others." + +"Perhaps," she admitted coldly. "Men have annoyed me with their +unwelcome attentions. But none of them ever dared go the length of +carrying me away against my will. You can't explain or excuse that." + +"I'm not attempting excuses," Bill made answer. "There are two things +I never do--apologize or bully. I dare say that's one reason the +Meadows gives me such a black eye. In the first place, the confounded, +ignorant fools did me a very great injustice, and I've never taken the +trouble to explain to them wherein they were wrong. I came into this +country with a partner six years ago--a white man, if ever one +lived--about the only real man friend I ever had. He was known to have +over three thousand dollars on his person. He took sick and died the +second year, at the head of the Peace, in midwinter. I buried him; +couldn't take him out. Somehow the yarn got to going in the Meadows +that I'd murdered him for his money. The gossip started there because +we had an argument about outfitting while we were there, and roasted +each other as only real pals can. So they got it into their heads I +killed him, and tried to have the provincial police investigate. It +made me hot, and so I wouldn't explain to anybody the circumstances, +nor what became of Dave's three thousand, which happened to be five +thousand by that time, and which I sent to his mother and sister in New +York, as he told me to do when he was dying. When they got to hinting +things the next time I hit the Meadows, I started in to clean out the +town. I think I whipped about a dozen men that time. And once or +twice every season since I've been in the habit of dropping in there +and raising the very devil out of sheer resentment. It's a wonder some +fellow hasn't killed me, for it's a fact that I've thrashed every man +in the blamed place except Jim Briggs--and some of them two or three +times. And I make them line up at the bar and drink at my expense, and +all that sort of foolishness. + +"That may sound to you like real depravity," he concluded, "but it's a +fact in nature that a man has to blow the steam off his chest about +every so often. I have got drunk in Cariboo Meadows, and I have raised +all manner of disturbances there, partly out of pure animal spirits, +and mostly because I had a grudge against them. Consequently I really +have given them reason to look askance at any one--particularly a nice +girl from the East--who would have anything to do with me. If they +weren't a good deal afraid of me, and always laying for a chance to do +me up, they wouldn't let me stay in the town overnight. So you can see +what a handicap I was under when it came to making your acquaintance +and courting you in the orthodox manner." + +"You've made a great mistake," she said bitterly, "if you think you've +removed the handicap. I've suffered a great deal at the hands of men +in the past six months. I'm beginning to believe that all men are +brutes at heart." + +Roaring Bill sat up and clasped his hands over his knees and stared +fixedly into the fire. + +"No," he said slowly, "all men are not brutes--any more than all women +are angels. I'll convince you of that." + +"Take me home, then," she cried forlornly. "That's the only way you +can convince me or make amends." + +"No," Bill murmured, "that isn't the way. Wait till you know me +better. Besides, I couldn't take you out now if I wanted to without +exposing you to greater hardships than you'll have to endure here. Do +you realize that it's fall, and we're in the high latitudes? This snow +may not go off at all. Even if it does it will storm again before a +week. You couldn't wallow through snow to your waist in +forty-below-zero weather." + +"People will pass here, and I'll get word out," Hazel asserted +desperately. + +"What good would that do you? You've got too much conventional regard +for what you term your reputation to send word to Cariboo Meadows that +you're living back here with Roaring Bill Wagstaff, and won't some one +please come and rescue you." He paused to let that sink in, then +continued: "Besides, you won't see a white face before spring; then +only by accident. No one in the North, outside of a few Indians, has +ever seen this cabin or knows where it stands." + +She sat there, dumb, raging inwardly. For the minute she could have +killed Roaring Bill. She who had been so sure in her independence +carried, whether or no, into the heart of the wilderness at the whim of +a man who stood a self-confessed rowdy, in ill repute among his own +kind. There was a slumbering devil in Miss Hazel Weir, and it took +little to wake her temper. She looked at Bill Wagstaff, and her breast +heaved. He was responsible, and he could sit coolly talking about it. +The resentment that had smoldered against Andrew Bush and Jack Barrow +concentrated on Roaring Bill as the arch offender of them all. And +lest she yield to a savage impulse to scream at him, she got up and ran +into the bedroom, slammed the door shut behind her, and threw herself +across the bed to muffle the sound of her crying in a pillow. + +After a time she lifted her head. Outside, the wind whistled gustily +around the cabin corners. In the hushed intervals she heard a steady +pad, pad, sounding sometimes close by her door, again faintly at the +far end of the room. A beam of light shone through the generous +latchstring hole in the door. Stealing softly over, she peeped through +this hole. From end to end of the big room and back again Roaring Bill +paced slowly, looking straight ahead of him with a fixed, absent stare, +his teeth closed on his nether lip. Hazel blinked wonderingly. Many +an hour in the last three months she had walked the floor like that, +biting her lip in mental agony. And then, while she was looking, Bill +abruptly extinguished the candles. In the red gleam from the hearth +she saw him go into the kitchen, closing the door softly. After that +there was no sound but the swirl of the storm brushing at her window. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +WINTER--AND A TRUCE + +In line with Roaring Bill's forecast, the weather cleared for a brief +span, and then winter shut down in earnest. Successive falls of snow +overlaid the earth with a three-foot covering, loose and feathery in +the depths of the forest, piled in hard, undulating windrows in the +scattered openings. Daily the cold increased, till a half-inch layer +of frost stood on the cabin panes. The cold, intense, unremitting, +lorded it over a vast realm of wood and stream; lakes and rivers were +locked fast under ice, and through the clear, still nights the aurora +flaunted its shimmering banners across the northern sky. + +But within the cabin they were snug and warm, Bill's ax kept the +woodpile high. The two fireplaces shone red the twenty-four hours +through. Of flour, tea, coffee, sugar, beans, and such stuff as could +only be gotten from the outside he had a plentiful supply. Potatoes +and certain vegetables that he had grown in a cultivated patch behind +the cabin were stored in a deep cellar. He could always sally forth +and get meat. And the ice was no bar to fishing, for he would cut a +hole, sink a small net, and secure overnight a week's supply of trout +and whitefish. Thus their material wants were provided for. + +As time passed Hazel gradually shook off a measure of her depression, +thrust her uneasiness and resentment into the background. As a matter +of fact, she resigned herself to getting through the winter, since that +was inevitable. She was out of the world, the only world she knew, and +by reason of the distance and the snows there was scant chance of +getting back to that world while winter gripped the North. The spring +might bring salvation. But spring was far in the future, too far ahead +to dwell upon. As much as possible, she refrained from thinking, +wisely contenting herself with getting through one day after another. + +And in so doing she fell into the way of doing little things about the +house, finding speedily that time flew when she busied herself at some +task in the intervals of delving in Roaring Bill's library. + +She could cook--and she did. Her first meal came about by grace of +Roaring Bill's absence. He was hunting, and supper time drew nigh. +She grew hungry, and, on the impulse of the moment, turned herself +loose in the kitchen--largely in a mood for experiment. She had +watched Bill make all manner of things in his Dutch ovens, and observed +how he prepared meat over the glowing coals often enough to get the +hang of it. Wherefore, her first meal was a success. When Roaring +Bill came in, an hour after dark, he found her with cheeks rosy from +leaning over the fire, and a better meal than he could prepare all +waiting for him. He washed and sat down. Hazel discarded her +flour-sack apron and took her place opposite. Bill made no comment +until he had finished and lighted a cigarette. + +"You're certainly a jewel, little person," he drawled then. "How many +more accomplishments have you got up your sleeve?" + +"Do you consider ordinary cooking an accomplishment?" she returned +lightly. + +"I surely do," he replied, "when I remember what an awful mess I made +of it on the start. I certainly did spoil a lot of good grub." + +After that they divided the household duties, and Hazel forgot that she +had vowed to make Bill Wagstaff wait on her hand and foot as the only +penalty she could inflict for his misdeeds. It seemed petty when she +considered the matter, and there was nothing petty about Hazel Weir. +If the chance ever offered, she would make him suffer, but in the +meantime there was no use in being childish. + +She did not once experience the drear loneliness that had sat on her +like a dead weight the last month before she turned her back on +Granville and its unhappy associations. For one thing, Bill Wagstaff +kept her intellectually on the jump. He was always precipitating an +argument or discussion of some sort, in which she invariably came off +second best. His scope of knowledge astonished her, as did his +language. Bill mixed slang, the colloquialisms of the frontier, and +the terminology of modern scientific thought with quaint impartiality. +There were times when he talked clear over her head. And he was by +turns serious and boyish, with always a saving sense of humor. So that +she was eternally discovering new sides to him. + +The other refuge for her was his store of books. Upon the shelves she +found many a treasure-trove--books that she had promised herself to +read some day when she could buy them and had leisure. Roaring Bill +had collected bits of the world's best in poetry and fiction; and last, +but by no means least, the books that stand for evolution and +revolution, philosophy, economics, sociology, and the kindred sciences. +Bill was not orderly. He could put his finger on any book he wanted, +but on his shelves like as not she would find a volume of Haeckel and +another of Bobbie Burns side by side, or a last year's novel snuggling +up against a treatise on social psychology. She could not understand +why a man--a young man--with the intellectual capacity to digest the +stuff that Roaring Bill frequently became immersed in should choose to +bury himself in the wilderness. And once, in an unguarded moment, she +voiced that query. Bill closed a volume of Nietzsche, marking the +place with his forefinger, and looked at her thoughtfully over the book. + +"Well," he said, "there are one or two good and sufficient reasons, to +which you, of course, may not agree. First, though, I'll venture to +assert that your idea of the nature and purpose of life as we humans +know and experience it is rather hazy. Have you ever seriously asked +yourself why we exist as entities at all? And, seeing that we do find +ourselves possessed of this existence, what constrains us to act along +certain lines?" + +Hazel shook her head. That was an abstraction which she had never +considered. She had been too busy living to make a critical analysis +of life. She had the average girl's conception of life, when she +thought of it at all, as a state of being born, of growing up, of +marrying, of trying to be happy, and ultimately--very remotely--of +dying. And she had also the conventional idea that activity in the +world, the world as she knew it, the doing of big things in a public or +semi-public way, was the proper sphere for people of exceptional +ability. But why this should be so, what law, natural or fabricated by +man, made it so she had never asked herself. She had found it so, and +taken it for granted. Roaring Bill Wagstaff was the first man to cross +her path who viewed the struggle for wealth and fame and power as other +than inevitable and desirable. + +"You see, little person," he went on, "we have some very definite +requirements which come of the will to live that dominates all life. +We must eat, we must protect our bodies against the elements, and we +need for comfort some sort of shelter. But in securing these +essentials to self-preservation where is the difference, except in +method, between the banker who manipulates millions and the post-hole +digger on the farm? Not a darned bit, in reality. They're both after +exactly the same thing--security against want. If the post-hole +digger's wants are satisfied by two dollars a day he is getting the +same result as the banker, whose standard of living crowds his big +income. Having secured the essentials, then, what is the next urge of +life? Happiness. That, however, brings us to a more abstract question. + +"In the main, though, that's my answer to your question. Here I can +secure myself a good living--as a matter of fact, I can easily get the +wherewithal to purchase any luxuries that I desire--and it is gotten +without a petty-larceny struggle with my fellow men. Here I exploit +only natural resources, take only what the earth has prodigally +provided. Why should I live in the smoke and sordid clutter of a town +when I love the clean outdoors? The best citizen is the man with a +sound mind and a strong, healthy body; and the only obligation any of +us has to society is not to be a burden on society. So I live in the +wilds the greater part of the year, I keep my muscles in trim, and I +have always food for myself and for any chance wayfarer--and I can look +everybody in the eye and tell them to go to the fiery regions if I +happen to feel that way. What business would I have running a grocery +store, or a bank, or a real-estate office, when all my instincts rebel +against it? What normal being wants to be chained to a desk between +four walls eight or ten hours a day fifty weeks in the year? I'll bet +a nickel there was many a time when you were clacking a typewriter for +a living that you'd have given anything to get out in the green fields +for a while. Isn't that so?" + +Hazel admitted it. + +"You see," Bill concluded, "this civilization of ours, with its +peculiar business ethics, and its funny little air of importance, is a +comparatively recent thing--a product of the last two or three thousand +years, to give it its full historic value. And mankind has been a +great many millions of years in the making, all of which has been spent +under primitive conditions. So that we are as yet barbarians, savages +even, with just a little veneer. Why, man, as such, is only beginning +to get a glimmering of his relation to the universe. Pshaw, though! I +didn't set out to deliver a lecture on evolution. But, believe me, +little person, if I thought that any great good or happiness would +result from my being elsewhere, from scrapping with my fellows in the +world crush, I'd be there with both feet. Do you think you'd be more +apt to care for me if I were to get out and try to set the world afire +with great deeds?" + +"That wasn't the question," she returned distantly, trying, as she +always did, to keep him off the personal note. + +"But it is the question with me," he declared. "I don't know why I let +you go on flouting me." He reached over and caught her arm with a grip +that made her wince. The sudden leap of passion into his eyes +quickened the beat of her heart. "I could break you in two with my +hands without half trying--tame you as the cave men tamed their women, +by main strength. But I don't--by reason of the same peculiar feeling +that would keep me from kicking a man when he was down, I suppose. +Little person, why can't you like me better?" + +"Because you tricked me," she retorted hotly. "Because I trusted you, +and you used that trust to lead me farther astray. Any woman would +hate a man for that. What do you suppose--you, with your knowledge of +life--the world will think of me when I get out of here?" + +But Roaring Bill had collected himself, and sat smiling, and made no +reply. He looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds, then resumed +his reading of the Mad Philosopher, out of whose essays he seemed to +extract a great deal of quiet amusement. + +A day or two after that Hazel came into the kitchen and found Bill +piling towels, napkins, and a great quantity of other soiled articles +on an outspread tablecloth. + +"Well," she inquired, "what are you going to do with those?" + +"Take 'em to the laundry," he laughed. "Collect your dirty duds, and +bring them forth." + +"Laundry!" Hazel echoed. It seemed rather a far-fetched joke. + +"Sure! You don't suppose we can get along forever without having +things washed, do you?" he replied. "I don't mind housework, but I do +draw the line at a laundry job when I don't _have_ to do it. Go +on--get your clothes." + +So she brought out her accumulation of garments, and laid them on the +pile. Bill tied up the four corners of the tablecloth. + +"Now," said he, "let's see if we can't fit you out for a more or less +extended walk. You stay in the house altogether too much these days. +That's bad business. Nothing like exercise in the fresh air." + +Thus in a few minutes Hazel fared forth, wrapped in Bill's fur coat, a +flap-eared cap on her head, and on her feet several pairs of stockings +inside moccasins that Bill had procured from some mysterious source a +day or two before. + +The day was sunny, albeit the air was hazy with multitudes of floating +frost particles, and the tramp through the forest speedily brought the +roses back to her cheeks. Bill carried the bundle of linen on his +back, and trudged steadily through the woods. But the riddle of his +destination was soon read to her, for a two-mile walk brought them out +on the shore of a fair-sized lake, on the farther side of which loomed +the conical lodges of an Indian camp. + +"You sabe now?" said he as they crossed the ice. "This bunch generally +comes in here about this time, and stays till spring. I get the squaws +to wash for me. Ever see Mr. Indian on his native heath?" + +Hazel never had, and she was duly interested, even if a trifle shy of +the red brother who stared so fixedly. She entered a lodge with Bill, +and listened to him make laundry arrangements in broken English with a +withered old beldame whose features resembled a ham that had hung +overlong in the smokehouse. Two or three blanketed bucks squatted by +the fire that sent its blue smoke streaming out the apex of the lodge. + +"Heap fine squaw!" one suddenly addressed Bill. "Where you ketchum?" + +Bill laughed at Hazel's confusion. "Away off." He gestured southward, +and the Indian grunted some unintelligible remark in his own tongue--at +which Roaring Bill laughed again. + +Before they started home Bill succeeded in purchasing, after much talk, +a pair of moccasins that Hazel conceded to be a work of art, what with +the dainty pattern of beads and the ornamentation of colored porcupine +quills. Her feminine soul could not cavil when Bill thrust them in the +pocket of her coat, even if her mind was set against accepting any +peace tokens at his hands. + +And so in the nearing sunset they went home through the frost-bitten +woods, where the snow crunched and squeaked under their feet, and the +branches broke off with a pistol-like snap when they were bent aside. + +A hundred yards from the cabin Bill challenged her to a race. She +refused to run, and he picked her up bodily, and ran with her to the +very door. He held her a second before he set her down, and Hazel's +face whitened. She could feel his breath on her cheek, and she could +feel his arms quiver, and the rapid beat of his heart. For an instant +she thought Roaring Bill Wagstaff was about to make the colossal +mistake of trying to kiss her. + +But he set her gently on her feet and opened the door. And by the time +he had his heavy outer clothes off and the fires started up he was +talking whimsically about their Indian neighbors, and Hazel breathed +more freely. The clearest impression that she had, aside from her +brief panic, was of his strength. He had run with her as easily as if +she had been a child. + +After that they went out many times together. Bill took her hunting, +initiated her into the mysteries of rifle shooting, and the +manipulation of a six-shooter. He taught her to walk on snowshoes, +lightly over the surface of the crusted snow, through which otherwise +she floundered. A sort of truce arose between them, and the days +drifted by without untoward incident, Bill tended to his horses, +chopped wood, carried water. She took upon herself the care of the +house. And through the long evenings, in default of conversation, they +would sit with a book on either side of the fireplace that roared +defiance to the storm gods without. + +And sometimes Hazel would find herself wondering why Roaring Bill +Wagstaff could not have come into her life in a different manner. As +it was--she never, _never_ would forgive him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FIRES OF SPRING + +There came a day when the metallic brilliancy went out of the sky, and +it became softly, mistily blue. All that forenoon Hazel prowled +restlessly out of doors without cap or coat. There was a new feel in +the air. The deep winter snow had suddenly lost its harshness. A +tentative stillness wrapped the North as if the land rested a moment, +gathering its force for some titanic effort. + +Toward evening a mild breeze freshened from the southwest. The tender +blue of the sky faded at sundown to a slaty gray. Long wraiths of +cloud floated up with the rising wind. At ten o'clock a gale whooped +riotously through the trees. And at midnight Hazel wakened to a sound +that she had not heard in months. She rose and groped her way to the +window. The encrusting frost had vanished from the panes. They were +wet to the touch of her fingers. She unhooked the fastening, and swung +the window out. A great gust of damp, warm wind blew strands of hair +across her face. She leaned through the casement, and drops of cold +water struck her bare neck. That which she had heard was the dripping +eaves. The chinook wind droned its spring song, and the bare boughs of +the tree beside the cabin waved and creaked the time. Somewhere +distantly a wolf lifted up his voice, and the long, throaty howl +swelled in a lull of the wind. It was black and ghostly outside, and +strange, murmuring sounds rose and fell in the surrounding forests, as +though all the dormant life of the North was awakening at the seasonal +change. She closed the window and went back to bed. + +At dawn the eaves had ceased their drip, and the dirt roof laid bare to +the cloud-banked sky. From the southwest the wind still blew strong +and warm. The thick winter garment of the earth softened to slush, and +vanished with amazing swiftness. Streams of water poured down every +depression. Pools stood between the house and stable. Spring had +leaped strong-armed upon old Winter and vanquished him at the first +onslaught. + +All that day the chinook blew, working its magic upon the land. When +day broke again with a clearing sky, and the sun peered between the +cloud rifts, his beams fell upon vast areas of brown and green, where +but forty-eight hours gone there was the cold revelry of frost sprites +upon far-flung fields of snow. Patches of earth steamed wherever a +hillside lay bare to the sun. From some mysterious distance a lone +crow winged his way, and, perching on a near-by tree-top, cawed raucous +greeting. + +Hazel cleared away the breakfast things, and stood looking out the +kitchen window. Roaring Bill sat on a log, shirt-sleeved, smoking his +pipe. Presently he went over to the stable, led out his horses, and +gave them their liberty. For twenty minutes or so he stood watching +their mad capers as they ran and leaped and pranced back and forth over +the clearing. Then he walked off into the timber, his rifle over one +shoulder. + +Hazel washed her dishes and went outside. The cabin sat on a benchlike +formation, a shoulder of the mountain behind, and she could look away +westward across miles and miles of timber, darkly green and merging +into purple in the distance. It was a beautiful land--and lonely. She +did not know why, but all at once a terrible feeling of utter +forlornness seized her. It was spring--and also it was spring in other +lands. The wilderness suddenly took on the characteristics of a +prison, in which she was sentenced to solitary confinement. She +rebelled against it, rebelled against her surroundings, against the +manner of her being there, against everything. She hated the North, +she wished to be gone from it, and most of all she hated Bill Wagstaff +for constraining her presence there. In six months she had not seen a +white face, nor spoken to a woman of her own blood. Out beyond that +sea of forest lay the big, active world in which she belonged, of which +she was a part, and she felt that she must get somewhere, do something, +or go mad. + +All the heaviness of heart, all the resentment she had felt in the +first few days when she followed him perforce away from Cariboo +Meadows, came back to her with redoubled force that forenoon. She went +back into the house, now gloomy without a fire, slumped forlornly into +a chair, and cried herself into a condition approaching hysteria. And +she was sitting there, her head bowed on her hands, when Bill returned +from his hunting. The sun sent a shaft through the south window, a +shaft which rested on her drooping head. Roaring Bill walked softly up +behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. + +"What is it, little person?" he asked gently. + +She refused to answer. + +"Say," he bent a little lower, "you know what the Tentmaker said: + + "'Come fill the cup, and in the fire of Spring + Your Winter garment of Repentance fling; + The Bird of Time has but a little way + To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing.' + + +"Life's too short to waste any of it in being uselessly miserable. +Come on out and go for a ride on Silk. I'll take you up on a +mountainside, and show you a waterfall that leaps three hundred feet in +the clear. The woods are waking up and putting on their Easter +bonnets. There's beauty everywhere. Come along!" + +She wrenched herself away from him. + +"I want to go home!" she wailed. "I hate you and the North, and +everything in it. If you've got a spark of manhood left in you, you'll +take me out of here." + +Roaring Bill backed away from her. "Do you mean that? Honest Injun?" +he asked incredulously. + +"I do--I do!" she cried vehemently. "Haven't I told you often enough? +I didn't come here willingly, and I won't stay. I will not! I have a +right to live my life in my own way, and it's not this way." + +"So," Roaring Bill began evenly, "springtime with you only means +getting back to work. You want to get back into the muddled rush of +peopled places, do you? For what? To teach a class in school, or to +be some business shark's slave of the typewriter at ten dollars a week? +You want to be where you can associate with fluffy-ruffle, pompadoured +girls, and be properly introduced to equally proper young men. Lord, +but I seem to have made a mistake! And, by the same token, I'll +probably pay for it--in a way you wouldn't understand if you lived a +thousand years. Well, set your mind at rest. I'll take you out. I'll +take you back to your stamping-ground if that's what you crave. Ye +gods and little fishes, but I have sure been a fool!" + +He sat down on the edge of the table, and Hazel blinked at him, half +scared, and full of wonder. She had grown so used to seeing him calm, +imperturbable, smiling cheerfully no matter what she said or did, that +his passionate outbreak amazed her. She could only sit and look at him. + +He got out his cigarette materials. But his fingers trembled, spilling +the tobacco. And when he tore the paper in his efforts to roll it, he +dashed paper and all into the fireplace with something that sounded +like an oath, and walked out of the house. Nor did he return till the +sun was well down toward the tree-rimmed horizon. When he came back he +brought in an armful of wood and kindling, and began to build a fire. +Hazel came out of her room. Bill greeted her serenely. + +"Well, little person," he said, "I hope you'll perk up now." + +"I'll try," she returned. "Are you really going to take me out?" + +Bill paused with a match blazing in his fingers. + +"I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean,"' he answered +dryly. "We'll start in the morning." + +The dark closed in on them, and they cooked and ate supper in silence. +Bill remained thoughtful and abstracted. He slouched for a time in his +chair by the fire. Then from some place among his books he unearthed a +map, and, spreading it on the table, studied it a while. After that he +dragged in his kyaks from outside, and busied himself packing them with +supplies for a journey--tea and coffee and flour and such things done +up in small canvas sacks. + +And when these preparations were complete he got a sheet of paper and a +pencil, and fell to copying something from the map. He was still at +that, sketching and marking, when Hazel went to bed. + +By all the signs and tokens, Roaring Bill Wagstaff slept none that +night. Hazel herself tossed wakefully, and during her wakeful moments +she could hear him stir in the outer room. And a full hour before +daylight he called her to breakfast. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE OUT TRAIL + +"This time last spring," Bill said to her, "I was piking away north of +those mountains, bound for the head of the Naas to prospect for gold." + +They were camped in a notch on the tiptop of a long divide, a thousand +feet above the general level. A wide valley rolled below, and from the +height they overlooked two great, sinuous lakes and a multitude of +smaller ones. The mountain range to which Bill pointed loomed seventy +miles distance, angling northwest. The sun glinted on the snow-capped +peaks, though they themselves were in the shadow. + +"I've been wondering," Hazel said. "This country somehow seems +different. You're not going back to Cariboo Meadows, are you?" + +Bill bestowed a look of surprise on her. + +"I should say not!" he drawled. "Not that it would make any difference +to me. But I'm very sure you don't want to turn up there in my +company." + +"That's true," she observed. "But all the clothes and all the money I +have in the world are there." + +"Don't let money worry you," he said briefly. "I have got plenty to +see you through. And you can easily buy clothes." + +They were now ten days on the road. Their course had lain across low, +rolling country, bordered by rugged hills, spotted with lakes, and cut +here and there by streams that put Bill Wagstaff to many strange shifts +in crossing. But upon leaving this camp they crossed a short stretch +of low country, and then struck straight into the heart of a +mountainous region. Steadily they climbed, reaching up through gloomy +canons where foaming cataracts spilled themselves over sheer walls of +granite, where the dim and narrow pack trail was crossed and recrossed +with the footprints of bear and deer and the snowy-coated mountain +goat. The spring weather held its own, and everywhere was the pleasant +smell of growing things. Overhead the wild duck winged his way in +aerial squadrons to the vast solitudes of the North. + +Roaring Bill lighted his evening fire at last at the apex of the pass. +He had traveled long after sundown, seeking a camp ground where his +horses could graze. The fire lit up huge firs, and high above the fir +tops the sky was studded with stars, brilliant in the thin atmosphere. +They ate, and, being weary, lay down to sleep. At sunrise Hazel sat up +and looked about her in silent, wondering appreciation. All the world +spread east and west below. Bill squatted by the fire, piling on wood, +and he caught the expression on her face. + +"Isn't it great?" he said. "I ran across some verses in a magazine a +long time ago. They just fit this, and they've been running in my head +ever since I woke up: + + "'All night long my heart has cried + For the starry moors + And the mountain's ragged flank + And the plunge of oars. + + 'Oh, to feel the Wind grow strong + Where the Trail leaps down. + I could never learn the way + And wisdom of the town. + + 'Where the hill heads split the Tide + Of green and living air + I would press Adventure hard + To her deepest lair.' + + +"The last verse is the best of all," he said thoughtfully. "It has +been my litany ever since I first read it: + + "'I would let the world's rebuke + Like a wind go by, + With my naked soul laid bare + To the naked Sky.' + + +"And here you are," he murmured, "hotfooting it back to where the +world's rebuke is always in evidence, always ready to sting you like a +hot iron if you should chance to transgress one of its petty-larceny +dictums. Well, you'll soon be there. Can you see a glint of blue away +down there? No? Take the glasses." + +She adjusted the binoculars and peered westward from the great height +where the camp sat. Distantly, and far below, the green of the forest +broke down to a hazy line of steel-blue that ran in turn to a huge fog +bank, snow-white in the rising sun. + +"Yes, I can see it now," she said. "A lake?" + +"No. Salt water--a long arm of the Pacific," he replied. "That's +where you and I part company--to your very great relief, I dare say. +But look off in the other direction. Lord, you can see two hundred +miles! If it weren't for the Babine Range sticking up you could look +clear to where my cabin stands. What an outlook! Tens of thousands of +square miles of timber and lakes and rivers! Sunny little valleys; +fish and game everywhere; soil that will grow anything. And scarcely a +soul in it all, barring here and there a fur post or a stray +prospector. Yet human beings by the million herd in filthy tenements, +and never see a blade of green grass the year around. + +"I told you, I think, about prospecting on the head of the Naas last +spring. I fell in with another fellow up there, and we worked +together, and early in the season made a nice little clean-up on a +gravel bar. I have another place spotted, by the way, that would work +out a fortune if a fellow wanted to spend a couple of thousand putting +in some simple machinery. However, when the June rise drove us off our +bar, I pulled clear out of the country. Just took a notion to see the +bright lights again. And I didn't stop short of New York. Do you +know, I lasted there just one week by the calendar. It seems funny, +when you think of it, that a man with three thousand dollars to spend +should get lonesome in a place like New York. But I did. And at the +end of a week I flew. The sole memento of that trip was a couple of +Russell prints--and a very bad taste in my mouth. I had all that money +burning my pockets--and, all told, I didn't spend five hundred. Fancy +a man jumping over four thousand miles to have a good time, and then +running away from it. It was very foolish of me, I think now. If I +had stuck and got acquainted with somebody, and taken in all the good +music, the theaters, and the giddy cafes I wouldn't have got home and +blundered into Cariboo Meadows at the psychological moment to make a +different kind of fool of myself. Well, the longer we live the more we +learn. Day after to-morrow you'll be in Bella Coola. The cannery +steamships carry passengers on a fairly regular schedule to Vancouver. +How does that suit you?" + +"Very well," she answered shortly. + +"And you haven't the least twinge of regret at leaving all this?" He +waved his hand in a comprehensive sweep. + +"I don't happen to have your peculiar point of view," she returned. +"The circumstances connected with my coming into this country and with +my staying here are such as to make me anxious to get away." + +"Same old story," Bill muttered under his breath. + +"What is it?" she asked sharply. + +"Oh, nothing," he said carelessly, and went on with his breakfast +preparations. + +They finished the meal. Bill got his horses up beside the fire, +loading on the packs. Hazel sat on the trunk of a winter-broken fir, +waiting his readiness to start. She heard no sound behind her. But +she did see Roaring Bill stiffen and his face blanch under its tan. +Twenty feet away his rifle leaned against a tree; his belt and +six-shooter hung on a limb above it. He was tucking a keen-edged +hatchet under the pack lashing. And, swinging this up, he jumped--it +seemed--straight at her. But his eyes were fixed on something beyond. + +Before she could move, or even turn to look, so sudden was his +movement, Bill was beside her. The sound of a crunching blow reached +her ears. In the same instant a heavy body collided with her, knocking +her flat. A great weight, a weight which exhaled a rank animal odor, +rolled over her. Her clutching hands briefly encountered some hairy +object. Then she was slammed against the fallen tree with a force that +momentarily stunned her. + +When she opened her eyes again Roaring Bill had her head in his lap, +peering anxiously down. She caught a glimpse of the unsteady hand that +held a cup of water, and she struggled to a sitting posture with a +shudder. Bill's shirt was ripped from the neckband to the wrist, +baring his sinewy arm. And hand, arm, and shoulder were spattered with +fresh blood. His face was spotted where he had smeared it with his +bloody hand. Close by, so close that she could almost reach it, lay +the grayish-black carcass of a bear, Bill's hatchet buried in the +skull, as a woodsman leaves his ax blade stuck in a log. + +"Feel all right?" Bill asked. His voice was husky. + +"Yes, yes," she assured him. "Except for a sort of sickening feeling. +Are you hurt?" + +He shook his head. + +"I thought you were broken in two," he muttered.. "We both fell right +on top of you. Ugh!" + +He sat down on the tree and rested his head on his bloodstained hands, +and Hazel saw that he was quivering from head to foot. She got up and +went over to him. + +"Are you sure you aren't hurt?" she asked again. + +He looked up at her; big sweat drops were gathering on his face. + +"Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared. You looked as if you +were dead, lying there so white and still." + +[Illustration: "Hurt? No," he murmured; "I'm just plain scared."] + +He reached out one long arm and drew her up close to him. + +"Little person," he whispered, "if you just cared one little bit as +much as I do, it would be all right. Look at me. Just the thought of +what might have happened to you has set every nerve in my body jumping. +I'm Samson shorn. Why can't you care? I'd be gooder than gold to +_you_." + +She drew herself away from him without answering--not in fear, but +because her code of ethics, the repressive conventions of her whole +existence urged her to do so in the face of a sudden yearning to draw +his bloody face up close to her and kiss it. The very thought, the +swift surge of the impulse frightened her, shocked her. She could not +understand it, and so she took refuge behind the woman instinct to hold +back, that strange feminine paradox which will deny and shrink from the +dominant impulses of life. And Roaring Bill made no effort to hold +her. He let her go, and fumbled for a handkerchief to wipe his +glistening face. And presently he went over to where a little stream +bubbled among the tree roots and washed his hands and face. Then he +got a clean shirt out of his war bag and disappeared into the brush to +change. When he came out he was himself again, if a bit sober in +expression. + +He finished his packing without further words. Not till the pack +horses were ready, and Silk saddled for her, did he speak again. Then +he cast a glance at the dead bear. + +"By Jove!" he remarked. "I'm about to forget my tomahawk." + +He poked tentatively at the furry carcass with his toe. Hazel came up +and took a curious survey of fallen Bruin. Bill laid hold of the +hatchet and wrenched it loose. + +"I've hunted more or less all my life," he observed, "and I've seen +bear under many different conditions. But this is the first time I +ever saw a bear tackle anybody without cause or warning. I guess this +beggar was strictly on the warpath, looking for trouble on general +principles." + +"Was he after me?" Hazel asked. + +"Well, I don't know whether he had a grudge against you," Bill smiled. +"But he was sure coming with his mouth open and his arms spread wide. +You notice I didn't take time to go after my rifle, and I'm not a +foolhardy person as a rule. I don't tackle a grizzly with a hatchet +unless I'm cornered, believe me. It was lucky he wasn't overly big. +At that, I can feel my hair stand up when I think how he would have +mussed us up if I'd missed that first swing at his head. You'll never +have a closer call. And the same thing might not happen again if you +lived in a bear country for thirty years. + +"It's a pity to let that good skin rot here," Bill concluded slowly; +"but I guess I will. I don't want his pelt. It would always be a +reminder of things--things I'd just as soon forget." + +He tucked the hatchet in its place on the pack. Hazel swung up on +Silk. They tipped over the crest of the mountain, and began the long +descent. + +The evening of the third day from there Bill traveled till dusk. When +camp was made and the fire started, he called Hazel to one side, up on +a little rocky knoll, and pointed out a half dozen pin points of yellow +glimmering distantly in the dark. + +"That's Bella Coola," he told her. "And unless they've made a radical +change in their sailing schedules there should be a boat clear +to-morrow at noon." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE DRONE OF THE HIVE + +A black cloud of smoke was rolling up from the funnel of the _Stanley +D._ as Bill Wagstaff piloted Hazel from the grimy Bella Coola hotel to +the wharf. + +"There aren't many passengers," he told her. "They're mostly cannery +men. But you'll have the captain's wife to chaperon you. She happens +to be making the trip." + +When they were aboard and the cabin boy had shown them to what was +dignified by the name of stateroom, Bill drew a long envelope from his +pocket. + +"Here," he said, "is a little money. I hope you won't let any foolish +pride stand in the way of using it freely. It came easy to me. I dug +it out of Mother Earth, and there's plenty more where it came from. +Seeing that I deprived you of access to your own money and all your +personal belongings, you are entitled to this any way you look at it. +And I want to throw in a bit of gratuitous advice--in case you should +conclude to go back to the Meadows. They probably looked high and low +for you. But there is no chance for them to learn where you actually +did get to unless you yourself tell them. The most plausible +explanation--and if you go there you must make some explanation--would +be for you to say that you got lost--which is true enough--and that you +eventually fell in with a party of Indians, and later on connected up +with a party of white people who were traveling coastward. That you +wintered with them, and they put you on a steamer and sent you to +Vancouver when spring opened. + +"That, I guess, is all," he concluded slowly. "Only I wish"--he caught +her by the shoulders and shook her gently--"I sure do wish it could +have been different, little person. Maybe you'll have a kindlier +feeling for this big old North when you get back into your cities and +towns, with their smoke and smells and business sharks, where it's +everybody for himself and the devil take the hindmost. Maybe some time +when I get restless for human companionship and come out to cavort in +the bright lights for a while, I may pass you on a street somewhere. +This world is very small. Oh, yes--when you get to Vancouver go to the +Ladysmith. It's a nice, quiet hotel in the West End. Any hack driver +knows the place." + +He dropped his hands, and looked steadily at her for a few seconds, +steadily and longingly. + +"Good-by!" he said abruptly--and walked out, and down the gangplank +that was already being cast loose, and away up the wharf without a +backward glance. + +The _Stanley D.'s_ siren woke the echoes along the wooded shore. A +throbbing that shook her from stem to stern betokened the first +turnings of the screw. And slowly she backed into deep water and swung +wide for the outer passage. + +Hazel went out to the rail. Bill Wagstaff had disappeared, but +presently she caught sight of him standing on the shore end of the +wharf, his hands thrust deep in his coat pockets, staring after the +steamer. Hazel waved the envelope that she still held in her hand. +Now that she was independent of him, she felt magnanimous, +forgiving--and suddenly very much alone, as if she had dropped back +into the old, depressing Granville atmosphere. But he gave no +answering sign save that he turned on the instant and went up the hill +to where his horses stood tied among the huddled buildings. And within +twenty minutes the _Stanley D._ turned a jutting point, and Bella Coola +was lost to view. + +Hazel went back into her stateroom and sat down on the berth. +Presently she opened the envelope. There was a thick fold of bills, +her ticket, and both were wrapped in a sheet of paper penciled with +dots and crooked lines. She laid it aside and counted the money. + +"Heavens!" she whispered. "I wish he hadn't given me so much. I +didn't need all that." + +For Roaring Bill had tucked a dozen one-hundred-dollar notes in the +envelope. And, curiously enough, she was not offended, only wishful +that he had been less generous. Twelve hundred dollars was a lot of +money, far more than she needed, and she did not know how she could +return it. She sat a long time with the money in her lap, thinking. +Then she took up the map, recognizing it as the sheet of paper Bill had +worked over so long their last night at the cabin. + +It made the North more clear--a great deal more clear--to her, for he +had marked Cariboo Meadows, the location of his cabin, and Bella Coola, +and drawn dotted lines to indicate the way he had taken her in and +brought her out. The Fraser and its tributaries, some of the crossings +that she remembered were sketched in, the mountains and the lakes by +which his trail had wound. + +"I wonder if that's a challenge to my vindictive disposition?" she +murmured. "I told him so often that I'd make him sweat for his +treachery if ever I got a chance. Ah well--" + +She put away the money and the map, and bestowed a brief scrutiny upon +herself in the cabin mirror. Six months in the wild had given her a +ruddy color, the glow of perfect physical condition. But her garments +were tattered and sadly out of date. The wardrobe of the steamer-trunk +lady had suffered in the winter's wear. She was barely presentable in +the outing suit of corduroy. So that she was inclined to be diffident +about her appearance, and after a time when she was not thinking of the +strange episodes of the immediate past, her mind, womanlike, began to +dwell on civilization and decent clothes. + +The _Stanley D._ bore down Bentick Arm and on through Burke Channel to +the troubled waters of Queen Charlotte Sound, where the blue Pacific +opens out and away to far Oriental shores. After that she plowed south +between Vancouver Island and the rugged foreshores where the Coast +Range dips to the sea, past pleasant isles, and through narrow passes +where the cliffs towered sheer on either hand, and, upon the evening of +the third day, she turned into Burrard Inlet and swept across a harbor +speckled with shipping from all the Seven Seas to her berth at the dock. + +So Hazel came again to a city--a city that roared and bellowed all its +manifold noises in her ears, long grown accustomed to a vast and +brooding silence. Mindful of Bill's parting word, she took a hack to +the Ladysmith. And even though the hotel was removed from the business +heart of the city, the rumble of the city's herculean labors reached +her far into the night. She lay wakefully, staring through her open +window at the arc lights winking in parallel rows, listening to the +ceaseless hum of man's activities. But at last she fell asleep, and +dawn of a clear spring day awakened her. + +She ate her breakfast, and set forth on a shopping tour. To such +advantage did she put two of the hundred-dollar bills that by noon she +was arrayed in a semi-tailored suit of gray, spring hat, shoes, and +gloves to match. She felt once more at ease, less conscious that +people stared at her frayed and curious habiliments. With a complete +outfit of lingerie purchased, and a trunk in which to store it +forwarded to her hotel, her immediate activity was at an end, and she +had time to think of her next move. + +And, brought face to face with that, she found herself at something of +a loss. She had no desire to go back to Cariboo Meadows, even to get +what few personal treasures she had left behind. Cariboo Meadows was +wiped off the slate as far as she was concerned. Nevertheless, she +must make her way. Somehow she must find a means to return the unused +portion of the--to her--enormous sum Roaring Bill had placed in her +hands. She must make her own living. The question that troubled her +was: How, and where? She had her trade at her finger ends, and the +storied office buildings of Vancouver assured her that any efficient +stenographer could find work. But she looked up as she walked the +streets at the high, ugly walls of brick and steel and stone, and her +heart misgave her. + +So for the time being she promised herself a holiday. In the afternoon +she walked the length of Hastings Street, where the earth trembled with +the roaring traffic of street cars, wagons, motors, and where folk +scuttled back and forth across the way in peril of their lives. She +had seen all the like before, but now she looked upon it with different +eyes; it possessed somehow a different significance, this bustle and +confusion which had seemingly neither beginning nor end, only sporadic +periods of cessation. + +She sat in a candy parlor and watched people go by, swarming like bees +along the walk. She remembered having heard or read somewhere the +simile of a human hive. The shuffle of their feet, the hum of their +voices droned in her cars, confusing her, irritating her, and she +presently found herself hurrying away from it, walking rapidly eastward +toward a thin fringe of trees which showed against a distant sky-line +over a sea of roofs. She walked fast, and before long the jar of solid +heels on the concrete pavement bred an ache in her knees. Then she +caught a car passing in that direction, and rode to the end of the +line, where the rails ran out in a wilderness of stumps. + +Crossing through these, she found a rudely graded highway, which in +turn dwindled to a mere path. It led her through a pleasant area of +second-growth fir, slender offspring of the slaughtered forest +monarchs, whose great stumps dotted the roll of the land, and up on a +little rise whence she could overlook the city and the inlet where rode +the tall-masted ships and sea-scarred tramps from deep salt water. And +for the time being she was content. + +But a spirit of restlessness drove her back into the city. And at +nightfall she went up to her room and threw herself wearily on the bed. +She was tired, body and spirit, and lonely. Nor was this lightened by +the surety that she would be lonelier still before she found a niche to +fit herself in and gather the threads of her life once more into some +orderly pattern. + +In the morning she felt better, even to the point of going over the +newspapers and jotting down several advertisements calling for office +help. Her brief experience in Cariboo Meadows had not led her to look +kindly on teaching as a means of livelihood. And stenographers seemed +to be in demand. Wherefore, she reasoned that wages would be high. +With the list in her purse, she went down on Hastings--which runs like +a huge artery through the heart of the city, with lesser streets +crossing and diverging. + +But she made no application for employment. For on the corner of +Hastings and Seymour, as she gathered her skirt in her hand to cross +the street, some one caught her by the arm, and cried: + +"Well, forevermore, if it isn't Hazel Weir!" + +And she turned to find herself facing Loraine Marsh--a Granville school +chum--and Loraine's mother. Back of them, with wide and startled eyes, +loomed Jack Barrow. + +He pressed forward while the two women overwhelmed Hazel with a flood +of exclamations and questions, and extended his hand. Hazel accepted +the overture. She had long since gotten over her resentment against +him. She was furthermore amazed to find that she could meet his eye +and take his hand without a single flutter of her pulse. It seemed +strange, but she was glad of it. And, indeed, she was too much taken +up with Loraine Marsh's chatter, and too genuinely glad to hear a +friendly voice again, to dwell much on ghosts of the past. + +They stood a few minutes on the corner; then Mrs. Marsh proposed that +they go to the hotel, where they could talk at their leisure and in +comfort. Loraine and her mother took the lead. Barrow naturally fell +into step with Hazel. + +"I've been wearing sackcloth and ashes, Hazel," he said humbly. "And I +guess you've got about a million apologies coming from everybody in +Granville for the shabby way they treated you. Shortly after you left, +somebody on one of the papers ferreted out the truth of that Bush +affair, and the vindictive old hound's reasons for that compromising +legacy were set forth. It seems this newspaper fellow connected up +with Bush's secretary and the nurse. Also, Bush appears to have kept a +diary--and kept it posted up to the day of his death--poured out all +his feelings on paper, and repeatedly asserted that he would win you or +ruin you. And it seems that that night after you refused to come to +him when he was hurt, he called in his lawyer and made that +codicil--and spent the rest of the time till he died gloating over the +chances of it besmirching your character." + +"I've grown rather indifferent about it," Hazel replied impersonally. +"But he succeeded rather easily. Even you, who should have known me +better, were ready to believe the very worst." + +"I've paid for it," Barrow pleaded. "You don't know how I've hated +myself for being such a cad. But it taught me a lesson--if you'll not +hold a grudge against me. I've wondered and worried about you, +disappearing the way you did. Where have you been, and how have you +been getting on? You surely look well." He bent an admiring glance on +her. + +"Oh, I've been every place, and I can't complain about not getting on," +she answered carelessly. + +For the life of her, she could not help making comparisons between the +man beside her and another who she guessed would by now be bearing up +to the crest of the divide that overlooked the green and peaceful vista +of forest and lake, with the Babine Range lying purple beyond. She +wondered if Roaring Bill Wagstaff would ever, under any circumstances, +have looked on her with the scornful, angry distrust that Barrow had +once betrayed. And she could not conceive of Bill Wagstaff ever being +humble or penitent for anything he had done. Barrow's attitude was +that of a little boy who had broken some plaything in a fit of anger +and was now woefully trying to put the pieces together again. It +amused her. Indeed, it afforded her a distinctly un-Christian +satisfaction, since she was not by nature of a meek or forgiving +spirit. He had made her suffer; it was but fitting that he should know +a pang or two himself. + +Hazel visited with the three of them in the hotel parlor for a matter +of two hours, went to luncheon with them, and at luncheon Loraine Marsh +brought up the subject of her coming home to Granville with them. The +Bush incident was discussed and dismissed. On the question of +returning, Hazel was noncommittal. The idea appealed strongly to her. +Granville was home. She had grown up there. There were a multitude of +old ties, associations, friends to draw her back. But whether her home +town would seem the same, whether she would feel the same toward the +friends who had held aloof in the time when she needed a friend the +most, even if they came flocking back to her, was a question that she +thought of if she did not put it in so many words. On the other hand, +she knew too well the drear loneliness that would close upon her in +Vancouver when the Marshes left. + +"Of course you'll come! We won't hear of leaving you behind. So you +can consider that settled." Loraine Marsh declared at last. "We're +going day after to-morrow. So is Mr. Barrow." + +Jack walked with her out to the Ladysmith, and, among other things, +told her how he happened to be in the coast city. + +"I've been doing pretty well lately," he said. "I came out here on a +deal that involved about fifty thousand dollars. I closed it up just +this morning--and the commission would just about buy us that little +house we had planned once. Won't you let bygones be bygones, Hazie?" + +"It might be possible, Jack," she answered slowly, "if it were not for +the fact that you took the most effective means a man could have taken +to kill every atom of affection I had for you. I don't feel bitter any +more--I simply don't feel at all." + +"But you will," he said eagerly. "Just give me a chance. I was a +hot-headed, jealous fool, but I never will be again. Give me a chance, +Hazel." + +"You'll have to make your own chances," she said deliberately. "I +refuse to bind myself in any way. Why should I put myself out to make +you happy when you destroyed all the faith I had in you? You simply +didn't trust me. You wouldn't trust me again. If slander could turn +you against me once it might a second time. Besides, I don't care for +you as a man wants a woman to care for him. And I don't think I'm +going to care--except, perhaps, in a friendly way." + +And with that Barrow had to be content. + +He called for her the next day, and took her, with the Marshes, out for +a launch ride, and otherwise devoted himself to being an agreeable +cavalier. On the launch excursion it was settled definitely that Hazel +should accompany them East. She had no preparations to make. The only +thing she would like to have done--return Roaring Bill's surplus +money--she could not do. She did not know how or where to reach him +with a letter. So far as Granville was concerned, she could always +leave it if she desired, and she was a trifle curious to know how all +her friends would greet her now that the Bush mystery was cleared up +and the legacy explained. + +So that at dusk of the following day she and Loraine Marsh sat in a +Pullman, flattening their noses against the car window, taking a last +look at the environs of Vancouver as the train rolled through the +outskirts of the city. Hazel told herself that she was going home. +Barrow smiled friendly assurance over the seat. + +Even so, she was restless, far from content. There was something +lacking. She grew distrait, monosyllabic, sat for long intervals +staring absently into the gloom beyond the windowpane. The Limited was +ripping through forested land. She could see now and then tall +treetops limned against the starlit sky. The ceaseless roar of the +trucks and the buzz of conversation in the car irritated her. At half +after eight she called the porter and had him arrange her section for +the night. And she got into bed, thankful to be by herself, depressed +without reason. + +She slept for a time, her sleep broken into by morbid dreams, and +eventually she wakened to find her eyes full of tears. She did not +know why she should cry, but cry she did till her pillow grew +moist--and the heavy feeling in her breast grew, if anything, more +intense. + +She raised on one elbow and looked out the window. The train slowed +with a squealing of brakes and the hiss of escaping air to a station. +On the signboard over the office window she read the name of the place +and the notation: "Vancouver, 180 miles." + +Her eyes were still wet. When the Limited drove east again she +switched on the tiny electric bulb over her head, and fumbled in her +purse for another handkerchief. Her fingers drew forth, with the bit +of linen, a folded sheet of paper, which seemed to hypnotize her, so +fixedly did she remain looking at it. A sheet of plain white paper, +marked with dots and names and crooked lines that stood for rivers, +with shaded patches that meant mountain ranges she had seen--Bill +Wagstaff's map. + +She stared at it a long time. Then she found her time-table, and ran +along the interminable string of station names till she found Ashcroft, +from whence northward ran the Appian Way of British Columbia, the +Cariboo Road, over which she had journeyed by stage. She noted the +distance, and the Limited's hour of arrival, and looked at her watch. +Then a feverish activity took hold of her. She dressed, got her suit +case from under the berth, and stuffed articles into it, regardless of +order. Her hat was in a paper bag suspended from a hook above the +upper berth. Wherefore, she tied a silk scarf over her head. + +That done, she set her suit case in the aisle, and curled herself in +the berth, with her face pressed close against the window. A whimsical +smile played about her mouth, and her fingers tap-tapped steadily on +the purse, wherein was folded Bill Wagstaff's map. + +And then out of the dark ahead a cluster of lights winked briefly, the +shriek of the Limited's whistle echoed up and down the wide reaches of +the North Thompson, and the coaches came to a stop. Hazel took one +look to make sure. Then she got softly into the aisle, took up her +suit case, and left the car. At the steps she turned to give the car +porter a message. + +"Tell Mrs. Marsh--the lady in lower five," she said, with a dollar to +quicken his faculties, "that Miss Weir had to go back. Say that I will +write soon and explain." + +She stood back in the shadow of the station for a few seconds. The +Limited's stop was brief. When the red lights went drumming down the +track, she took up her suit case and walked uptown to the hotel where +she had tarried overnight once before. + +The clerk showed her to a room. She threw her suit case on the bed and +turned the key in the lock. Then she went over, and, throwing up the +window to its greatest height, sat down and looked steadily toward the +north, smiling to herself. + +"I can find him," she suddenly said aloud. "Of course I can find him!" + +And with that she blew a kiss from her finger-tips out toward the dark +and silent North, pulled down the shade, and went quietly to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +AN ENDING AND A BEGINNING + +Unconsciously, by natural assimilation, so to speak, Hazel Weir had +absorbed more woodcraft than she realized in her over-winter stay in +the high latitudes. Bill Wagstaff had once told her that few people +know just what they can do until they are compelled to try, and upon +this, her second journey northward, the truth of that statement grew +more patent with each passing day. Little by little the vast central +interior of British Columbia unfolded its orderly plan of watercourses, +mountain ranges, and valleys. She passed camping places, well +remembered of that first protesting journey. And at night she could +close her eyes beside the camp fires and visualize the prodigious +setting of it all--eastward the pyramided Rockies, westward lesser +ranges, the Telegraph, the Babine; and through the plateau between the +turbulent Frazer, bearing eastward from the Rockies and turning +abruptly for its long flow south, with its sinuous doublings and +turnings that were marked in bold lines on Bill Wagstaff's map. + +So trailing north with old Limping George, his fat _klootch_, and two +half-grown Siwash youths, Hazel bore steadily across country, driving +as straight as the rolling land allowed for the cabin that snuggled in +a woodsy basin close up to the peaks that guard Pine River Pass. + +There came a day when brief uncertainty became sure knowledge at sight +of an L-shaped body of water glimmering through the fire-thinned +spruce. Her heart fluttered for a minute. Like a homing bird, by +grace of the rude map and Limping George, she had come to the lake +where the Indians had camped in the winter, and she could have gone +blindfolded from the lake to Roaring Bill's cabin. + +On the lake shore, where the spruce ran out to birch and cottonwood, +she called a halt. + +"Make camp," she instructed. "Cabin over there," she waved her hand. +"I go. Byemby come back." + +Then she urged her pony through the light timber growth and across the +little meadows where the rank grass and strange varicolored flowers +were springing up under the urge of the warm spring sun. Twenty +minutes brought her to the clearing. The grass sprang lush there, and +the air was pleasant with odors of pine and balsam wafted down from the +mountain height behind. But the breath of the woods was now a matter +of small moment, for Silk and Satin and Nigger loafing at the sunny end +of the stable pricked up their ears at her approach, and she knew that +Roaring Bill was home again. She tied her horse to a sapling and drew +nearer. The cabin door stood wide. + +A brief panic seized her. She felt a sudden shrinking, a wild desire +for headlong flight. But it passed. She knew that for good or ill she +would never turn back. And so, with her heart thumping tremendously +and a tentative smile curving her lips, she ran lightly across to the +open door. + +On the soft turf her footsteps gave forth no sound. She gained the +doorway as silently as a shadow. Roaring Bill faced the end of the +long room, but he did not see her, for he was slumped in the big chair +before the fireplace, his chin sunk on his breast, staring straight +ahead with absent eyes. + +In all the days she had been with him she had never seen him look like +that. It had been his habit, his defense, to cover sadness with a +smile, to joke when he was hurt. That weary, hopeless expression, the +wry twist of his lips, wrung her heart and drew from her a yearning +little whisper: + +"Bill!" + +He came out of his chair like a panther. And when his eyes beheld her +in the doorway he stiffened in his tracks, staring, seeing, yet +reluctant to believe the evidence of his vision. His brows wrinkled. +He put up one hand and absently ran it over his cheek. + +"I wonder if I've got to the point of seeing things," he said slowly. +"Say, little person, is it your astral body, or is it really you?" + +"Of course it's me," she cried tremulously, and with fine disregard for +her habitual preciseness of speech. + +He came up close to her and pinched her arm with a gentle pressure, as +if he had to feel the material substance of her before he could +believe. And then he put his hands on her shoulders, as he had done on +the steamer that day at Bella Coola, and looked long and earnestly at +her--looked till a crimson wave rose from her neck to the roots of her +dark, glossy hair. And with that Roaring Bill took her in his arms, +cuddled her up close to him, and kissed her, not once but many times. + +"You really and truly came back, little person," he murmured. "Lord, +Lord--and yet they say the day of miracles is past." + +"You didn't think I would, did you?" she asked, with her blushing face +snuggled against his sturdy breast. "Still, you gave me a map so that +I could find the place?" + +"That was just taking a desperate chance. No, I never expected to see +you again, unless by accident," he said honestly. "And I've been +crying the hurt of it to the stars all the way back from the coast. I +only got here yesterday. I pretty near passed up coming back at all. +I didn't see how I could stay, with everything to remind me of you. +Say, but it looked like a lonesome hole. I used to love this +place--but I didn't love it last night. It seemed about the most +cheerless and depressing spot I could have picked. I think I should +have ended up by touching a match to the whole business and hitting the +trail to some new country. I don't know. I'm not weak. But I don't +think I could have stayed here long." + +They stood silent in the doorway for a long interval, Bill holding her +close to him, and she blissfully contented, careless and unthinking of +the future, so filled was she with joy of the present. + +"Do you love me much, little person?" Bill asked, after a little. + +She nodded vigorous assent. + +"Why?" he desired to know. + +"Oh, just because--because you're a man, I suppose," she returned +mischievously. + +"The world's chuck-full of men," Bill observed. + +"Surely," she looked up at him. "But they're not like you. Maybe it's +bad policy to start in flattering you, but there aren't many men of +your type, Billy-boy; big and strong and capable, and at the same time +kind and patient and able to understand things, things a woman can't +always put into words. Last fall you hurt my pride and nearly scared +me to death by carrying me off in that lawless, headlong fashion of +yours. But you seemed to know just how I felt about it, and you played +fairer than any man I ever knew would have done under the same +circumstances. I didn't realize it until I got back into the civilized +world. And then all at once I found myself longing for you--and for +these old forests and the mountains and all. So I came back." + +"Wise girl," he kissed her. "You'll never be sorry, I hope. It took +some nerve, too. It's a long trail from here to the outside. But this +North country--it gets in your blood--if your blood's red--and I don't +think there's any water in your veins, little person. Lord! I'm +afraid to let go of you for fear you'll vanish into nothing, like a +Hindu fakir stunt." + +"No fear," Hazel laughed. "I've got a pony tied to a tree out there, +and four Siwashes and a camp outfit over by Crooked Lake. If I should +vanish I'd leave a plain trail for you to follow." + +"Well," Bill said, after a short silence, "it's a hundred and forty +miles to a Hudson's Bay post where there's a mission and a preacher. +Let's be on our way and get married. Then we'll come back here and +spend our honeymoon. Eh?" + +She nodded assent. + +"Are you game to start in half an hour?" he asked, holding her off at +arm's length admiringly. + +"I'm game for anything, or I wouldn't be here," she retorted. + +"All right. You just watch an exhibition of speedy packing," Bill +declared--and straightway fell to work. + +Hazel followed him about, helping to get the kyaks packed with food. +They caught the three horses, and Bill stripped the pony of Hazel's +riding gear and placed a pack on him. Then he put her saddle on Silk. + +"He's your private mount henceforth," Bill told her laughingly. +"You'll ride him with more pleasure than you did the first time, won't +you?" + +Presently they were ready to start, planning to ride past Limping +George's camp and tell him whither they were bound. Hazel was already +mounted. Roaring Bill paused, with his toe in the stirrup, and smiled +whimsically at her over his horse's back. + +"I forgot something," said he, and went back into the cabin--whence he +shortly emerged, bearing in his hand a sheet of paper upon which +something was written in bold, angular characters. This he pinned on +the door. Hazel rode Silk close to see what it might be, and laughed +amusedly, for Bill had written: + +"Mr. and Mrs. William Wagstaff will be at home to their friends on and +after June the twentieth." + +He swung up into his saddle, and they jogged across the open. In the +edge of the first timber they pulled up and looked backward at the +cabin drowsing silently under its sentinel tree. Roaring Bill reached +out one arm and laid it across Hazel's shoulders. + +"Little person," he said soberly, "here's the end of one trail, and the +beginning of another--the longest trail either of us has ever faced. +How does it look to you?" + +She caught his fingers with a quick, hard pressure. + +"All trails look alike to me," she said, with shining eyes, "just so we +hit them together." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A BRIEF TIME OF PLANNING + +"What day of the month is this, Bill?" Hazel asked. + +"Haven't the least idea," he answered lazily. "Time is of no +consequence to me at the present moment." + +They were sitting on the warm earth before their cabin, their backs +propped comfortably against a log, watching the sun sink behind a +distant sky-line all notched with purple mountains upon which snow +still lingered. Beside them a smudge dribbled a wisp of smoke +sufficient to ward off a pestilential swarm of mosquitoes and black +flies. In the clear, thin air of that altitude the occasional voices +of what bird and animal life was abroad in the wild broke into the +evening hush with astonishing distinctness--a lone goose winged above +in wide circles, uttering his harsh and solitary cry. He had lost his +mate, Bill told her. Far off in the bush a fox barked. The evening +flight of the wild duck from Crooked Lake to a chain of swamps passed +intermittently over the clearing with a sibilant whistle of wings. To +all the wild things, no less than to the two who watched and listened +to the forest traffic, it was a land of peace and plenty. + +"We ought to go up to the swamps to-morrow and rustle some duck eggs," +Bill observed irrelevantly--his eyes following the arrow flight of a +mallard flock. But his wife was counting audibly, checking the days +off on her fingers. + +"This is July the twenty-fifth, Mr. Roaring Bill Wagstaff," she +announced. "We've been married exactly one month." + +"A whole month?" he echoed, in mock astonishment. "A regular calendar +month of thirty-one days, huh? You don't say so? Seems like it was +only day before yesterday, little person." + +"I wonder," she snuggled up a little closer to him, "if any two people +were ever as happy as we've been?" + +Bill put his arm across her shoulders and tilted her head back so that +he could smile down into her face. + +"They have been a bunch of golden days, haven't they?" he whispered. +"We haven't come to a single bump in the road yet. You won't forget +this joy time if we ever do hit real hard going, will you, Hazel?" + +"The bird of ill omen croaks again," she reproved. "Why should we come +to hard going, as you call it?" + +"We shouldn't," he declared. "But most people do. And we might. One +never can tell what's ahead. Life takes queer and unexpected turns +sometimes. We've got to live pretty close to each other, depend +absolutely on each other in many ways--and that's the acid test of +human companionship. By and by, when the novelty wears off--maybe +you'll get sick of seeing the same old Bill around and nobody else. +You see I've always been on my good behavior with you. Do you like me +a lot?" + +His arm tightened with a quick and powerful pressure, then suddenly +relaxed to let her lean back and stare up at him tenderly. + +"I ought to punish you for saying things like that," she pouted. "Only +I can't think of any effective method. Sufficient unto the day is the +evil thereof--and there is no evil in _our_ days." + +"Amen," he whispered softly--and they fell to silent contemplation of +the rose and gold that spread in a wonderful blazon over all the +western sky. + +"Twenty-fifth of July, eh?" he mused presently. "Summer's half gone +already. I didn't realize it. We ought to be stirring pretty soon, +lady." + +"Let's stir into the house, then," she suggested. "These miserable +little black flies have found a tender place on me. My, but they're +bloodthirsty insects." + +Bill laughed, and they took refuge in the cabin, the doorways and +windows of which were barricaded with cotton mosquito net against the +winged swarms that buzzed hungrily without. Ensconced in the big chair +by the fireplace, with Bill sprawled on the bearskin at her feet, Hazel +came back to his last remark. + +"Why did you say it was time for us to be stirring, Billum?" + +"Because these Northern seasons are so blessed short," he answered. +"We ought to try and do a little good for ourselves--make hay while the +sun shines. We'll needa da mon'." + +"Needa fiddlesticks," she laughed. "What do we need money for? It +costs practically nothing to live up here. Why this sudden desire to +pursue the dollar? Besides, how are you going to pursue it?" + +"Go prospecting," he replied promptly. "Hit the trail for a place I +know where there's oodles of coarse gold, if you can get to it at low +water. How'd you like to go into the Upper Naas country this fall, +trap all winter, work the sand bars in the spring, and come out next +fall with a sack of gold it would take a horse to pack?" + +Hazel clapped her hands. + +"Oh, Bill, wouldn't that be fine?" she cried. Across her mind flashed +a vivid picture of the journey, pregnant with adventure, across the +wild hinterlands--they two together. "I'd love to." + +"It won't be all smooth sailing," he warned. "It's a long trip and a +hard one, and the winter will be longer and harder than the trip. We +won't have the semi-luxuries we've got here in this cabin. Not by a +long shot. Still, there's a chance for a good big stake, right in that +one trip." + +"But why the necessity for making a stake?" she inquired thoughtfully, +after a lapse of five minutes. "I thought you didn't care anything +about money so long as you had enough to get along on? And we surely +have that. We've got over two thousand dollars in real money--and no +place to spend it--so we're compelled to save." + +Bill blew a smoke ring over his head and watched it vanish up toward +the dusky roof beams before he answered. + +"Well, little person," said he, "that's very true, and we can't +truthfully say that stern necessity is treading on our heels. The +possession of money has never been a crying need with me. But I hadn't +many wants when I was playing a lone hand, and I generally let the +future take care of itself. It was always easy to dig up money enough +to buy books and grub or anything I wanted. Now that I've assumed a +certain responsibility, it has begun to dawn on me that we'd enjoy life +better if we were assured of a competence. We can live on the country +here indefinitely. But we won't stay here always. I'm pretty much +contented just now. So are you. But I know from past experience that +the outside will grow more alluring as time passes. You'll get +lonesome for civilization. It's the most natural thing in the world. +And when we go out to mix with our fellow humans we want to meet them +on terms of worldly equality. Which is, to say with good clothes on, +and a fat bank roll in our pocket. The best is none too good for us, +lady. And the best costs money. Anyway, I'll plead guilty to +changing, or, rather, modifying my point of view--getting married has +opened up new vistas of pleasure for us that call for dollars. And +last, but not least, old girl, while I love to loaf, I can only loaf +about so long in contentment. Sabe? I've got to be doing _something_; +whether it was profitable or not has never mattered, just so it was +action." + +"I sabe, as you call it," Hazel smiled. "Of course I do. Only lazy +people like to loaf all the time. I love this place, and we might stay +here for years and be satisfied. But--" + +"But we'd be better satisfied to stay if we knew that we could leave it +whenever we wanted to," he interrupted. "That's the psychology of the +human animal, all right. We don't like to be coerced, even by +circumstances. Well, granted health, one can be boss of old Dame +Circumstance, if one has the price in cold cash. It's a melancholy +fact that the good things of the world can only be had for a +consideration." + +"If you made a lot of money mining, we could travel--one could do lots +of things," she reflected. "I don't think I'd want to live in a city +again. But it would be nice to go there sometimes." + +"Yes, dear girl, it would," Bill agreed. "With a chum to help you +enjoy things. I never got much fun out of the bright lights by +myself--it was too lonesome. I used to prowl around by myself with an +analytical eye upon humanity, and I was always bumping into a lot of +sordidness and suffering that I couldn't in the least remedy, and it +often gave me a bad taste in my mouth. Then I'd beat it for the +woods--and they always looked good to me. The trouble was that I had +too much time to think, and nothing to do when I hit a live town. It +would be different now. We can do things together that I couldn't do +alone, and you couldn't do alone. Remains only to get the wherewithal. +And since I know how to manage that with a minimum amount of effort, +I'd like to be about it before somebody else gets ahead of me. Though +there's small chance of that." + +"We'll be partners," said she. "How will we divide the profits, +Billum?" + +"We'll split even," he declared. "That is, I'll make the money, and +you'll spend it." + +They chuckled over this conceit, and as the dusk closed in slowly they +fell to planning the details. Hazel lit the lamp, and in its yellow +glow pored over maps while Bill idly sketched their route on a sheet of +paper. His objective lay east of the head of the Naas proper, where +amid a wild tangle of mountains and mountain torrents three turbulent +rivers, the Stikine, the Skeena, and the Naas, took their rise. A +God-forsaken region, he told her, where few white men had penetrated. +The peaks flirted with the clouds, and their sides were scarred with +glaciers. A lonesome, brooding land, the home of a vast and +seldom-broken silence. + +"But there's all kinds of game and fur in there," Bill remarked +thoughtfully. "And gold. Still, it's a fierce country for a man to +take his best girl into. I don't know whether I ought to tackle it." + +"We couldn't be more isolated than we are here," Hazel argued, "if we +were in the arctic. Look at that poor woman at Pelt House. Three +babies born since she saw a doctor or another woman of her own color! +What's a winter by ourselves compared to that. And _she_ didn't think +it so great a hardship. Don't you worry about me, Mr. Bill. I think +it will be fun. I'm a real pioneer at heart. The wild places look +good to me--when you're along." + +She received her due reward for that, and then, the long twilight +having brought the hour to a lateness that manifested itself by sundry +yawns on their part, they went to bed. + +With breakfast over, Bill put a compass in his pocket, after having +ground his ax blade to a keen edge. + +"Come on," said he, then; "I'm going to transact some important +business." + +"What is it?" she promptly demanded with much curiosity. + +"This domicile of ours, girl," he told her, while he led the way +through the surrounding timber, "is ours only by grace of the +wilderness. It's built on unsurveyed government land--land that I have +no more legal claim to than any passing trapper. I never thought of it +before--which goes to show that this double-harness business puts a +different face on 'most everything. But I'm going to remedy that. Of +course, it may be twenty years before this country begins to settle up +enough so that some individual may cast a covetous eye on this +particular spot--but I'm not going to take any chances. I'm going to +formally stake a hundred and sixty acres of this and apply for its +purchase. Then we'll have a cinch on our home. We'll always have a +refuge to fly to, no matter where we go." + +She nodded appreciation of this. The cabin in the clearing stood for +some of those moments that always loom large and unforgettable in every +woman's experience. She had come there once in hot, shamed anger, and +she had come again as a bride. It was the handiwork of a man she loved +with a passion that sometimes startled her by its intensity. She had +plumbed depths of bitterness there, and, contrariwise, reached a point +of happiness she had never believed possible. Just the mere +possibility of that place being given over to others roused in her a +pang of resentment. It was theirs, hers and Bill's, and, being a +woman, she viewed its possession jealously. + +So she watched with keen interest what he did. Which, in truth, was +simple enough. He worked his way to a point southeast of the clearing +till they gained a little rise whence through the treetops they could +look back and see the cabin roof. There Bill cut off an eight-inch +jack pine, leaving the stump approximately four feet high. This he +hewed square, the four flat sides of the post facing respectively the +cardinal points of the compass. On one smoothed surface Bill set to +work with his pocketknife. Hazel sat down and watched while he busied +himself at this. And when he had finished she read, in deep-carved +letters: + + W. WAGSTAFF'S S. E. CORNER. + + +Then he penned on a sheet of letter paper a brief notice to the effect +that he, William Wagstaff, intended to apply for the purchase of the +land embraced in an area a half mile square, of which the post was the +south-east corner mark. This notice he fastened to the stump with a +few tacks, and sat down to rest from his labors. + +"How long do you suppose that will stay there, and who is there to read +it, if it does?" Hazel observed. + +"Search me. The moose and the deer and the timber wolves, I guess," +Bill grinned. "The chances are the paper won't last long, with winds +and rains. But it doesn't matter. It's simply a form prescribed by +the Land Act of British Columbia, and, so long as I go through the +legal motions, that lets me out. Matter of form, you know." + +"Then what else do you have to do?" + +"Nothing but furnish the money when the land department gets around to +accept my application," he said. "I can get an agent to attend to all +the details. Oh, I have to furnish a description of the land by +natural boundaries, to give them an idea of about where it's situated. +Well, let's take a look at our estate from another corner." + +This, roughly ascertained by sighting a line with the compass and +stepping off eight hundred and eighty yards, brought them up on a knoll +that commanded the small basin of which the clearing was practically in +the center. + +"Aha;" Bill exclaimed. "Look at our ranch, would you; our widespread +acres basking in the sun. A quarter section is quite a chunk. Do you +know I never thought much about it before, but there's a piece of the +finest land that lies outdoors. I wasn't looking for land when I +squatted there. It was a pretty place, and there was hay for our +horses in that meadow, and trout in the creek back of the cabin. So I +built the old shack largely on the conveniences and the natural beauty +of the spot. But let me tell you, if this country should get a +railroad and settle up, that quarter section might produce all the +income we'd need, just out of hay and potatoes. How'd you like to be a +farmer's wife, huh?" + +"Fine," she smiled. "Look at the view--it isn't gorgeous. It's--it's +simply peaceful and quiet and soothing. I hate to leave it." + +"Better be sorry to leave a place than glad to get away," he answered +lightly. "Come on, let's pike home and get things in order for the +long trail, woman o' mine. I'll teach you how to be a woodland +vagabond." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +EN ROUTE + +Long since Hazel had become aware that whatsoever her husband set about +doing he did swiftly and with inflexible purpose. There was no +malingering or doubtful hesitation. Once his mind was made up, he +acted, Thus, upon the third day from the land staking they bore away +eastward from the clearing, across a trackless area, traveling by the +sun and Bill's knowledge of the country. + +"Some day there'll be trails blazed through here by a paternal +government," he laughed over his shoulder, "for the benefit of the +public. But _we_ don't need 'em, thank goodness." + +The buckskin pony Hazel had bought for the trip in with Limping George +ambled sedately under a pack containing bedding, clothes, and a light +shelter tent. The black horse, Nigger, he of the cocked ear and the +rolling eye, carried in a pair of kyaks six weeks' supply of food. +Bill led the way, seconded by Hazel on easy-gaited Silk. Behind her +trailed the pack horses like dogs well broken to heel, patient under +their heavy burdens. Off in the east the sun was barely clear of the +towering Rockies, and the woods were still cool and shadowy, full of +aromatic odors from plant and tree. + +Hazel followed her man contentedly. They were together upon the big +adventure, just as she had seen it set forth in books, and she found it +good. For her there was no more diverging of trails, no more problems +looming fearsomely at the journey's end. To jog easily through woods +and over open meadows all day, and at night to lie with her head +pillowed on Bill's arm, peering up through interlocked branches at a +myriad of gleaming stars--that was sufficient to fill her days. To +live and love and be loved, with all that had ever seemed hateful and +sordid and mean thrust into a remote background. It was almost too +good to be true, she told herself. Yet it was indubitably true. And +she was grateful for the fact. Touches of the unavoidable bitterness +of life had taught her the worth of days that could be treasured in the +memory. + +Occasionally she would visualize the cabin drowsing lifeless in its +emerald setting, haunted by the rabbits that played timidly about in +the twilight, or perhaps a wandering deer peering his wide-eyed +curiosity from the timber's edge. The books and rugs and curtains were +stowed in boxes and bundles and hung by wires to the ridge log to keep +them from the busy bush-tailed rats. Everything was done up carefully +and put away for safekeeping, as became a house that is to be long +untenanted. + +The mother instinct to keep a nest snug and cozy gave her a tiny pang +over the abandoned home. The dust of many months would gather on the +empty chairs and shelves. Still it was only a passing absence. They +would come back, with treasure wrested from the strong box of the wild. +Surely Fortune could not forbear smiling on a mate like hers? + +There was no monotony in the passing days. Rivers barred their way. +These they forded or swam, or ferried a makeshift raft of logs, as +seemed most fit. Once their raft came to grief in the maw of a +snarling current, and they laid up two days to dry their saturated +belongings. Once their horses, impelled by some mysterious home +yearning, hit the back trail in a black night of downpour, and they +trudged half a day through wet grass and dripping scrub to overtake the +truants. Thunderstorms drove up, shattering the hush of the land with +ponderous detonations, assaulting them with fierce bursts of rain. +Haps and mishaps alike they accepted with an equable spirit and the +true philosophy of the trail--to take things as they come. When rain +deluged them, there was always shelter to be found and fire to warm +them. If the flies assailed too fiercely, a smudge brought easement of +that ill. And when the land lay smiling under a pleasant sun, they +rode light-hearted and care-free, singing or in silent content, as the +spirit moved. If they rode alone, they felt none of that loneliness +which is so integral a part of the still, unpeopled places. Each day +was something more than a mere toll of so many miles traversed. The +unexpected, for which both were eager-eyed, lurked on the shoulder of +each mountain, in the hollow of every cool canon, or met them boldly in +the open, naked and unafraid. + +Bearing up to where the Nachaco debouches from Fraser Lake, with a +Hudson's Bay fur post and an Indian mission on its eastern fringe, they +came upon a blazed line in the scrub timber. Roaring Bill pulled up, +and squinted away down the narrow lane fresh with ax marks. + +"Well," said he, "I wonder what's coming off now? That looks like a +survey line of some sort. It isn't a trail--too wide. Let's follow it +a while. + +"I'll bet a nickel," he asserted next, "that's a railroad survey." +They had traversed two miles more or less, and the fact was patent that +the blazed line sought a fairly constant level across country. "A land +survey runs all same latitude and longitude. Huh!" + +Half an hour of easy jogging set the seal of truth on his assertion. +They came upon a man squinting through a brass instrument set on three +legs, directing, with alternate wavings of his outspread hands, certain +activities of other men ahead of him. + +"Well, I'll be--" he bit off the sentence, and stared a moment in frank +astonishment at Hazel. Then he took off his hat and bowed. "Good +morning," he greeted politely. + +"Sure," Bill grinned. "We have mornings like this around here all the +time. What all are you fellows doing in the wilderness, anyway? +Railroad?" + +"Cross-section work for the G. T. P.," the surveyor replied. + +"Huh," Bill grunted. "Is it a dead cinch, or is it something that may +possibly come to pass in the misty future?" + +"As near a cinch as anything ever is," the surveyor answered. +"Construction has begun--at both ends. I thought the few white folks +in this country kept tab on anything as important as a new railroad." + +"We've heard a lot, but none of 'em has transpired yet; not in my time, +anyway," Bill replied dryly. "However, the world keeps right on +moving. I've heard more or less talk of this, but I didn't know it had +got past the talking stage. What's their Pacific terminal?" + +"Prince Rupert--new town on a peninsula north of the mouth of the +Skeena," said the surveyor. "It's a rush job all the way through, I +believe. Three years to spike up the last rail. And that's going some +for a transcontinental road. Both the Dominion and B. C. governments +have guaranteed the company's bonds away up into millions." + +"Be a great thing for this country--say, where does it cross the +Rockies?--what's the general route?" Bill asked abruptly. + +"Goes over the range through Yellowhead Pass. From here it follows the +Nachaco to Fort George, then up the Fraser by Tete Juan Cache, through +the pass, then down the Athabasca till it switches over to strike +Edmonton." + +"Uh-huh," Bill nodded. "One of the modern labors of Hercules. Well, +we've got to peg. So long." + +"Our camp's about five miles ahead. Better stop in and noon," the +surveyor invited, "if it's on your road." + +"Thanks. Maybe we will," Bill returned. + +The surveyor lifted his hat, with a swift glance of admiration at +Hazel, and they passed with a mutual "so long." + +"What do you think of that, old girl?" Bill observed presently. "A +real, honest-to-God railroad going by within a hundred miles of our +shack. Three years. It'll be there before we know it. We'll have +neighbors to burn." + +"A hundred miles!" Hazel laughed. "Is that your idea of a neighborly +distance?" + +"What's a hundred miles?" he defended. "Two days' ride, that's all. +And the kind of people that come to settle in a country like this don't +stick in sight of the cars. They're like me--need lots of elbow room. +There'll be hardy souls looking for a location up where we are before +very long. You'll see." + +They passed other crews of men, surveyors with transits, chainmen, +stake drivers, ax gangs widening the path through the timber. Most of +them looked at Hazel in frank surprise, and stared long after she +passed by. And when an open bottom beside a noisy little creek showed +the scattered tents of the survey camp, Hazel said: + +"Let's not stop, Bill." + +He looked back over his shoulder with a comprehending smile. + +"Getting shy? Make you uncomfortable to have all these boys look at +you, little person?" he bantered. "All right, we won't stop. But all +these fellows probably haven't seen a white woman for months. You +can't blame them for admiring. You do look good to other men besides +me, you know." + +So they rode through the camp with but a nod to the aproned cook, who +thrust out his head, and a gray-haired man with glasses, who humped +over a drafting board under an awning. Their noon fire they built at a +spring five miles beyond. + +Thereafter they skirted three lakes in succession, Fraser, Burns, and +Decker, and climbed over a low divide to drop into the Bulkley +Valley--a pleasant, rolling country, where the timber was interspersed +with patches of open grassland and set with small lakes, wherein +schools of big trout lived their finny lives unharried by anglers--save +when some wandering Indian snared one with a primitive net. + +Far down this valley they came upon the first sign of settlement. +Hardy souls, far in advance of the coming railroad, had built here and +there a log cabin and were hard at it clearing and plowing and getting +the land ready for crops. Four or five such lone ranches they passed, +tarrying overnight at one where they found a broad-bosomed woman with a +brood of tow-headed children. Her husband was out after supplies--a +week's journey. She kept Hazel from her bed till after midnight, +talking. They had been there over winter, and Hazel Wagstaff was the +first white woman she had bespoken in seven months. There were other +women in the valley farther along; but fifty or sixty miles leaves +scant opportunity for visiting when there is so much work to be done +ere wild acres will feed hungry mouths. + +At length they fared into Hazleton, which is the hub of a vast area +over which men pursue gold and furs. Some hundred odd souls were +gathered there, where the stern-wheel steamers that ply the turgid +Skeena reach the head of navigation. A land-recording office and a +mining recorder Hazleton boasted as proof of its civic importance. The +mining recorder, who combined in himself many capacities besides his +governmental function, undertook to put through Bill's land deal. He +knew Bill Wagstaff. + +"Wise man," he nodded, over the description. "If some more uh these +boys that have blazed trails through this country would do the same +thing, they'd be better off. A chunk of land anywhere in this country +is a good bet now. We'll have rails here from the coast in a year. +Better freeze onto a couple uh lots here in Hazleton, while they're +low. Be plumb to the skies in ten years. Natural place for a city, +Bill. It's astonishin' how the settlers is comin'." + +There was ocular evidence of this last, for they had followed in a road +well rutted from loaded wagons. But Bill invested in no real estate, +notwithstanding the positive assurance that Hazleton was on the ragged +edge of a boom. + +"Maybe, maybe," he admitted. "But I've got other fish to fry. That +one piece up by Pine River will do me for a while." + +Here where folk talked only of gold and pelts and railroads and +settlement and the coming boom that would make them all rich, Bill +Wagstaff added two more ponies to his pack train. These he loaded down +with food, staples only, flour, sugar, beans, salt, tea and coffee, and +a sack of dried fruit. Also he bestowed upon Nigger a further burden +of six dozen steel traps. And in the cool of a midsummer morning, +before Hazleton had rubbed the sleep out of its collective eyes and +taken up the day's work of discussing its future greatness, Roaring +Bill and his wife draped the mosquito nets over their heads and turned +their faces north. + +They bore out upon a wagon road. For a brief distance only did this +endure, then dwindled to a path. A turn in this hid sight of the +clustered log houses and tents, and the two steamers that lay up +against the bank. The river itself was soon lost in the far stretches +of forest. Once more they rode alone in the wilderness. For the first +time Hazel felt a quick shrinking from the North, an awe of its huge, +silent spaces, which could so easily engulf thousands such as they and +still remain a land untamed. + +But this feeling passed, and she came again under the spell of the +trail, riding with eyes and ears alert, sitting at ease in the saddle, +and taking each new crook in the way with quickened interest. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE WINTERING PLACE + +On the second day they crossed the Skeena, a risky and tedious piece of +business, for the river ran deep and strong. And shortly after this +crossing they came to a line of wire strung on poles. Originally a +fair passageway had been cleared through low brush and dense timber +alike. A pathway of sorts still remained, though dim and little +trodden and littered with down trees of various sizes. Bill followed +this. + +"What is the wire? A rural telephone? Oh, I remember you told me +once--that Yukon telegraph," Hazel remarked. + +"Uh-huh. That's the famous Telegraph Trail," Bill answered. "Runs +from Ashcroft clear to Dawson City, on the Yukon; that is, the line +does. There's a lineman's house every twenty miles or so, and an +operator every forty miles. The best thing about it is that it +furnishes us with a sort of a road. And that's mighty lucky, for +there's some tough going ahead of us." + +So long as they held to the Telegraph Trail the way led through fairly +decent country. In open patches there was ample grazing for their +horses. Hills there were, to be sure; all the land rolled away in +immense forested billows, but the mountains stood off on the right and +left, frowning in the distance. A plague of flies harassed them +continually, Hazel's hands suffering most, even though she kept +religiously to thick buckskin gloves. The poisonous bites led to +scratching, which bred soreness. And as they gained a greater +elevation and the timbered bottoms gave way to rocky hills over which +she must perforce walk and lead her horse, the sweat of the exertion +stung and burned intolerably, like salt water on an open wound. + +Minor hardships, these; scarcely to be dignified by that name, more in +the nature of aggravated discomforts they were. But they irked, and, +like any accumulation of small things, piled up a disheartening total. +By imperceptible degrees the glamour of the trail, the lure of +gypsying, began to lessen. She found herself longing for the Pine +River cabin, for surcease from this never-ending journey. But she +would not have owned this to Roaring Bill; not for the world. It +savored of weakness, disloyalty. She felt ashamed. Still--it was no +longer a pleasure jaunt. The country they bore steadily up into grew +more and more forbidding. The rugged slopes bore no resemblance to the +kindly, peaceful land where the cabin stood. Swamps and reedy lakes +lurked in low places. The hills stood forth grim and craggy, gashed +with deep-cleft gorges, and rising to heights more grim and desolate at +the uttermost reach of her vision. And into the heart of this, toward +a far-distant area where she could faintly distinguish virgin snow on +peaks that pierced the sky, they traveled day after day. + +Shortly before reaching Station Six they crossed the Naas, foaming down +to the blue Pacific. And at Station Seven, Bill turned squarely off +the Telegraph Trail and struck east by north. It had been a break in +the monotony of each day's travel to come upon the lonely men in their +little log houses. When they turned away from the single wire that +linked them up with the outer world, it seemed to Hazel as if the +profound, disquieting stillness of the North became intensified. + +Presently the way grew rougher. If anything, Roaring Bill increased +his pace. He himself no longer rode. When the steepness of the hills +and canons made the going hard the packs were redivided, and henceforth +Satin bore on his back a portion of the supplies. Bill led the way +tirelessly. Through flies, river crossings, camp labor, and all the +petty irritations of the trail he kept an unruffled spirit, a fine, +enduring patience that Hazel marveled at and admired. Many a time, +wakening at some slight stir, she would find him cooking breakfast. In +every way within his power he saved her. + +"I got to take good care of you, little person," he would say. "I'm +used to this sort of thing, and I'm tough as buckskin. But it sure +isn't proving any picnic for you. It's a lot worse in this way than I +thought it would be. And we've got to get in there before the snow +begins to fly, or it will play the dickens with us." + +Many a strange shift were they put to. Once Bill had to fell a great +spruce across a twenty-foot crevice. It took him two days to hew it +flat so that his horses could be led over. The depth was bottomless to +the eye, but from far below rose the cavernous growl of rushing water, +and Hazel held her breath as each animal stepped gingerly over the +narrow bridge. One misstep-- + +Once they climbed three weary days up a precipitous mountain range, +and, turned back in sight of the crest by an impassable cliff, were +forced to back track and swing in a fifty-mile detour. + +In an air line Roaring Bill's destination lay approximately two hundred +miles north--almost due north--of Hazleton. By the devious route they +were compelled to take the distance was doubled, more than doubled. +And their rate of progress now fell short of a ten-mile average. +September was upon them. The days dwindled in length, and the nights +grew to have a frosty nip. + +Early and late he pushed on. Two camp necessities were fortunately +abundant, grass and water. Even so, the stress of the trail told on +the horses. They lost flesh. The extreme steepness of succeeding +hills bred galls under the heavy packs. They grew leg weary, no longer +following each other with sprightly step and heads high. Hazel pitied +them, for she herself was trail weary beyond words. The vagabond +instinct had fallen asleep. The fine aura of romance no longer hovered +over the venture. + +Sometimes when dusk ended the day's journey and she swung her stiffened +limbs out of the saddle, she would cheerfully have foregone all the +gold in the North to be at her ease before the fireplace in their +distant cabin, with her man's head nesting in her lap, and no toll of +weary miles looming sternly on the morrow's horizon. It was all work, +trying work, the more trying because she sensed a latent uneasiness on +her husband's part, an uneasiness she could never induce him to embody +in words. Nevertheless, it existed, and she resented its existence--a +trouble she could not share. But she could not put her finger on the +cause, for Bill merely smiled a denial when she mentioned it. + +Nor did she fathom the cause until upon a certain day which fell upon +the end of a week's wearisome traverse of the hardest country yet +encountered. Up and up and still higher he bore into a range of +beetling crags, and always his gaze was fixed steadfastly and dubiously +on the serrated backbone toward which they ascended with infinite toil +and hourly risk, skirting sheer cliffs on narrow rock ledges, working +foot by foot over declivities where the horses dug their hoofs into a +precarious toe hold, and where a slip meant broken bones on the ragged +stones below. But win to the uppermost height they did, where an early +snowfall lay two inches deep in a thin forest of jack pine. + +They broke out of a canon up which they had struggled all day onto a +level plot where the pine stood in somber ranks. A spring creek split +the flat in two. Beside this tiny stream Bill unlashed his packs. It +still lacked two hours of dark. But he made no comment, and Hazel +forbore to trouble him with questions. Once the packs were off and the +horses at liberty. Bill caught up his rifle. + +"Come on, Hazel," he said. "Let's take a little hike." + +The flat was small, and once clear of it the pines thinned out on a +steep, rocky slope so that westward they could overlook a vast network +of canons and mountain spurs. But ahead of them the mountain rose to +an upstanding backbone of jumbled granite, and on this backbone Bill +Wagstaff bent an anxious eye. Presently they sat down on a bowlder to +take a breathing spell after a stiff stretch of climbing. Hazel +slipped her hand in his and whispered: + +"What is it, Billy-boy?" + +"I'm afraid we can't get over here with the horses," he answered +slowly. "And if we can't find a pass of some kind--well, come on! It +isn't more than a quarter of a mile to the top." + +He struck out again, clambering over great bowlders, clawing his way +along rocky shelves, with a hand outstretched to help her now and then. +Her perceptions quickened by the hint he had given, Hazel viewed the +long ridge for a possible crossing, and she was forced to the reluctant +conclusion that no hoofed beast save mountain sheep or goat could cross +that divide. Certainly not by the route they were taking. And north +and south as far as she could see the backbone ran like a solid wall. + +It was a scant quarter mile to the top, beyond which no farther +mountain crests showed--only clear, blue sky. But it was a stretch +that taxed her endurance to the limit for the next hour. Just short of +the top Bill halted, and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. And as he +stood his gaze suddenly became fixed, a concentrated stare at a point +northward. He raised his glasses. + +"By thunder!" he exclaimed. "I believe--it's me for the top." + +He went up the few remaining yards with a haste that left Hazel panting +behind. Above her he stood balanced on a bowlder, cut sharp against +the sky, and she reached him just as he lowered the field glasses with +a long sigh of relief. His eyes shone with exultation. + +"Come on up on the perch," he invited, and reached forth a long, +muscular arm, drawing her up close betide him on the rock. + +"Behold the Promised Land," he breathed, "and the gateway thereof, +lying a couple of miles to the north." + +They were, it seemed to Hazel, roosting precariously on the very summit +of the world. On both sides the mountain pitched away sharply in +rugged folds. Distance smoothed out the harsh declivities, blurred +over the tremendous canons. Looking eastward, she saw an ample basin, +which gave promise of level ground on its floor. True, it was ringed +about with sky-scraping peaks, save where a small valley opened to the +south. Behind them, between them and the far Pacific rolled a sea of +mountains, snow-capped, glacier-torn, gigantic. + +"Down there," Roaring Bill waved his hand, "there's a little meadow, +and turf to walk on. Lord, I'll be glad to get out of these rocks! +You'll never catch me coming in this way again. It's sure tough going. +And I've been scared to death for a week, thinking we couldn't get +through." + +"But we can?" + +"Yes, easy," he assured. "Take the glasses and look. That flat we +left our outfit in runs pretty well to the top, about two miles along. +Then there's a notch in the ridge that you can't get with the naked +eye, and a wider canon running down into the basin. It's the only +decent break in the divide for fifty miles so far as I can see. This +backbone runs to high mountains both north and south of us--like the +great wall of China. We're lucky to hit this pass." + +"Suppose we couldn't get over here?" Hazel asked. "What if there +hadn't been a pass?" + +"That was beginning to keep me awake nights," he confessed. "I've been +studying this rock wall for a week. It doesn't look good from the east +side, but it's worse on the west, and I couldn't seem to locate the gap +I spotted from the basin one time. And if we couldn't get through, it +meant a hundred miles or more back south around that white peak you +see. Over a worse country than we've come through--and no cinch on +getting over at that. Do you realize that it's getting late in the +year? Winter may come--bing!--inside of ten days. And me caught in a +rock pile, with no cabin to shelter my best girl, and no hay up to feed +my horses! You bet it bothered me." + +She hugged him sympathetically, and Bill smiled down at her. + +"But it's plain sailing now," he continued. "I know that basin and all +the country beyond it. It's a pretty decent camping place, and there's +a fairly easy way out." + +He bestowed a reassuring kiss upon her. They sat on the bowlder for a +few minutes, then scrambled downhill to the jack-pine flat, and built +their evening fire. And for the first time in many days Roaring Bill +whistled and lightly burst into snatches of song in the deep, bellowing +voice that had given him his name back in the Cariboo country. His +humor was infectious. Hazel felt the gods of high adventure smiling +broadly upon them once more. + +Before daybreak they were up and packed. In the dim light of dawn Bill +picked his way up through the jack-pine flat. With easy traveling they +made such time as enabled them to cross through the narrow gash--cut in +the divide by some glacial offshoot when the Klappan Range was +young--before the sun, a ball of molten fire, heaved up from behind the +far mountain chain. + +At noon, two days later, they stepped out of a heavy stand of spruce +into a sun-warmed meadow, where ripe, yellow grasses waved to their +horses' knees. Hazel came afoot, a fresh-killed deer lashed across +Silk's back. + +Bill hesitated, as if taking his bearings, then led to where a rocky +spur of a hill jutted into the meadow's edge. A spring bubbled out of +a pebbly basin, and he poked about in the grass beside it with his +foot, presently stooping to pick up something which proved to be a +short bit of charred stick. + +"The remains of my last camp fire," he smiled reminiscently. "Packs +off, old pal. We're through with the trail for a while." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +FOUR WALLS AND A ROOF + +To such as view with a kindly eye the hushed areas of virgin forest and +the bold cliffs and peaks of mountain ranges, it is a joy to tread +unknown trails, camping as the spirit moves, journeying leisurely and +in decent comfort from charming spot to spots more charming. With no +spur of need to drive, such inconsequential wandering gives to each day +and incident an added zest. Nature appears to have on her best bib and +tucker for the occasion. The alluring finger of the unknown beckons +alluringly onward, so that if one should betimes strain to physical +exhaustion in pursuit, that is a matter of no moment whatever. + +But it is a different thing to face the wilderness for a purpose, to +journey in haste toward a set point, with a penalty swift and sure for +failure to reach that point in due season. Especially is this so in +the high latitudes. Natural barriers uprear before the traveler, +barriers which he must scale with sweat and straining muscles. He must +progress by devious ways, seeking always the line of least resistance. +The season of summer is brief, a riot of flowers and vegetation. A +certain number of weeks the land smiles and flaunts gay flowers in the +shadow of the ancient glaciers. Then the frost and snow come back to +their own, and the long nights shut down like a pall. + +Brought to it by a kindlier road, Hazel would have found that nook in +the Klappan Range a pleasant enough place. She could not deny its +beauty. It snuggled in the heart of a wild tangle of hills all +turreted and battlemented with ledge and pinnacle of rock, from which +ran huge escarpments clothed with spruce and pine, scarred and gashed +on every hand with slides and deep-worn watercourses, down which +tumultuous streams rioted their foamy way. And nestled amid this, like +a precious stone in its massive setting, a few hundred acres of level, +grassy turf dotted with trees. Southward opened a narrow valley, as if +pointing the road to a less rigorous land. No, she could not deny its +beauty. But she was far too trail weary to appreciate the grandeur of +the Klappan Range. She desired nothing so much as rest and comfort, +and the solemn mountains were neither restful nor soothing. They stood +too grim and aloof in a lonely land. + +There was so much to be done, work of the hands; a cabin to build, and +a stable; hay to be cut and stacked so that their horses might live +through the long winter--which already heralded his approach with +sharp, stinging frosts at night, and flurries of snow along the higher +ridges. + +Bill staked the tent beside the spring, fashioned a rude fork out of a +pronged willow, and fitted a handle to the scythe he had brought for +the purpose. From dawn to dark he swung the keen blade in the heavy +grass which carpeted the bottom. Behind him Hazel piled it in little +mounds with the fork. She insisted on this, though it blistered her +hands and brought furious pains to her back. If her man must strain +every nerve she would lighten the burden with what strength she had. +And with two pair of hands to the task, the piles of hay gathered thick +on the meadow. When Bill judged that the supply reached twenty tons, +he built a rude sled with a rack on it, and hauled in the hay with a +saddle horse. + +"Amen!" said Bill, when he had emptied the rack for the last time, and +the hay rose in a neat stack. "That's another load off my mind. I can +build a cabin and a stable in six feet of snow if I have to, but there +would have been a slim chance of haying once a storm hit us. And the +caballos need a grubstake for the winter worse than we do, because they +can't eat meat. _We_ wouldn't go hungry--there's moose enough to feed +an army ranging in that low ground to the south." + +"There's everything that one needs, almost, in the wilderness, isn't +there?" Hazel observed reflectively. "But still the law of life is +awfully harsh, don't you think, Bill? Isolation is a terrible thing +when it is so absolutely complete. Suppose something went wrong? +There's no help, and no mercy--absolutely none. You could die here by +inches and the woods and mountains would look calmly on, just as they +have looked on everything for thousands of years. It's like prison +regulations. You _must_ do this, and you _must_ do that, and there's +no excuse for mistakes. Nature, when you get close to her, is so +inexorable." + +Bill eyed her a second. Then he put his arms around her, and patted +her hair tenderly. + +"Is it getting on your nerves already, little person?" he asked. +"Nothing's going to go wrong. I've been in wild country too often to +make mistakes or get careless. And those are the two crimes for which +the North--or any wilderness--inflicts rather serious penalties. Life +isn't a bit harsher here than in the human ant heaps. Only everything +is more direct; cause and effect are linked up close. There are no +complexities. It's all done in the open, and if you don't play the +game according to the few simple rules you go down and out. That's all +there is to it. There's no doctor in the next block, nor a grocer to +take your order over the phone, and you can't run out to a cafe and +take dinner with a friend. But neither is the air swarming with +disease germs, nor are there malicious gossips to blast you with their +tongues, nor rent and taxes to pay every time you turn around. Nor am +I at the mercy of a job. And what does the old, settled country do to +you when you have neither money nor job? It treats you worse than the +worst the North can do; for, lacking the price, it denies you access to +the abundance that mocks you in every shop window, and bars you out of +the houses that line the streets. Here, everything needful is yours +for the taking. If one is ignorant, or unable to convert wood and +water and game to his own uses, he must learn how, or pay the penalty +of incompetence. No, little person, I don't think the law of life is +nearly so harsh here as it is where the mob struggles for its daily +bread. It's more open and aboveboard here; more up to the individual. +But it's lonely sometimes. I guess that's what ails you." + +"Oh, pouf!" she denied. "I'm not lonely, so long as I've got you. But +sometimes I think of something happening to you--sickness and +accidents, and all that. One can't help thinking what might happen." + +"Forget it!" Bill exhorted. "That's the worst of living in this big, +still country--it makes one introspective, and so confoundedly +conscious of what puny atoms we human beings are, after all. But +there's less chance of sickness here than any place. Anyway, we've got +to take a chance on things now and then, in the course of living our +lives according to our lights. We're playing for a stake--and things +that are worth having are never handed to us on a silver salver. +Besides, I never had worse than a stomachache in my life and you're a +pretty healthy specimen yourself. Wait till I get that cabin built, +with a big fireplace at one end. We'll be more comfortable, and things +will look a little rosier. This thing of everlasting hurry and hard +work gets on anybody's nerves." + +The best of the afternoon was still unspent when the haystacking +terminated, and Bill declared a holiday. He rigged a line on a limber +willow wand, and with a fragment of venison for bait sought the pools +of the stream which flowed out the south opening. He prophesied that +in certain black eddies plump trout would be lurking, and he made his +prophecy good at the first pool. Hazel elected herself gun-bearer to +the expedition, but before long Bill took up that office while she +snared trout after trout from the stream--having become something of an +angler herself under Bill's schooling. And when they were frying the +fish that evening he suddenly observed: + +"Say, they were game little fellows, these, weren't they? Wasn't that +better sport than taking a street car out to the park and feeding the +swans?" + +"What an idea!" she laughed. "Who wants to feed swans in a park?" + +But when the fire had sunk to dull embers, and the stars were peeping +shyly in the open flap of their tent, she whispered in his ear: + +"You mustn't think I'm complaining or lonesome or anything, Billy-boy, +when I make remarks like I did to-day. I love you a heap, and I'd be +happy anywhere with you. And I'm really and truly at home in the +wilderness. Only--only sometimes I have a funny feeling; as if I were +afraid. It seems silly, but this is all so different from our little +cabin. I look up at these big mountains, and they seem to be +scowling--as if we were trespassers or something." + +"I know." Bill drew her close to him. "But that's just mood. I've +felt that same sensation up here--a foolish, indefinable foreboding. +All the out-of-the-way places of the earth produce that effect, if one +is at all imaginative. It's the bigness of everything, and the eternal +stillness. I've caught myself listening--when I knew there was nothing +to hear. Makes a fellow feel like a small boy left by himself in some +big, gloomy building--awesome. Sure, I know it. It would be hard on +the nerves to live here always. But we're only after a stake--then all +the pleasant places of the earth are open to us; with that little, old +log house up by Pine River for a refuge whenever we get tired of the +world at large. Cuddle up and go to sleep. You're a dead-game sport, +or you'd have hollered long ago." + +And, next day, to Hazel, sitting by watching him swing the heavy, +double-bitted ax on the foundation logs of their winter home, it all +seemed foolish, that heaviness of heart which sometimes assailed her. +She was perfectly happy. In each of them the good, red blood of youth +ran full and strong, offering ample security against illness. They had +plenty of food. In a few brief months Bill would wrest a sack of gold +from the treasure house of the North, and they would journey home by +easy stages. Why should she brood? It was sheer folly--a mere ebb of +spirit. + +Fortune favored them to the extent of letting the October storms remain +in abeyance until Bill finished his cabin, with a cavernous fireplace +of rough stone at one end. He split planks for a door out of raw +timber, and graced his house with two windows--one of four small panes +of glass carefully packed in their bedding all the way from Hazleton, +the other a two-foot square of deerskin scraped parchment thin; opaque +to the vision, it still permitted light to enter. The floor was plain +earth, a condition Bill promised to remedy with hides of moose, once +his buildings were completed. Rudely finished, and lacking much that +would have made for comfort, still it served its purpose, and Hazel +made shift contentedly. + +Followed then the erection of a stable to shelter the horses. Midway +of its construction a cloud bank blew out of the northeast, and a foot +of snow fell. Then it cleared to brilliant days of frost. Bill +finished his stable. At night he tied the horses therein. By day they +were turned loose to rustle their fodder from under the crisp snow. It +was necessary to husband the stock of hay, for spring might be late. + +After that they went hunting. The third day Bill shot two moose in an +open glade ten miles afield. It took them two more days to haul in the +frozen meat on a sled. + +"Looks like one side of a butcher shop," Bill remarked, viewing the +dressed meat where it hung on a pole scaffolding beyond reach of the +wolves. + +"It certainly does," Hazel replied. "We'll never eat all that." + +"Probably not," he smiled. "But there's nothing like having plenty. +The moose might emigrate, you know. I think I'll add a deer to that +lot for variety--if I can find one." + +He managed this in the next few days, and also laid in a stock of +frozen trout by the simple expedient of locating a large pool, and +netting the speckled denizens thereof through a hole in the ice. + +So their larder was amply supplied. And, as the cold rigidly tightened +its grip, and succeeding snows deepened the white blanket till +snowshoes became imperative, Bill began to string out a line of traps. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +BOREAS CHANTS HIS LAY + +December winged by, the days succeeding each other like glittering +panels on a black ground of long, drear nights. Christmas came. They +mustered up something of the holiday spirit, dining gayly off a roast +of caribou. For the occasion Hazel had saved the last half dozen +potatoes. With the material at her command she evolved a Christmas +pudding, serving it with brandy sauce. And after satisfying appetites +bred of a morning tilt with Jack Frost along Bill's trap line, they +spent a pleasant hour picturing their next Christmas. There would be +holly and bright lights and music--the festival spirit freed of all +restraint. + +The new year was born in a wild smother of flying snow, which died at +dawn to let a pale, heatless sun peer tentatively over the southern +mountains, his slanting beams setting everything aglitter. Frost +particles vibrated in the air, coruscating diamond dust. Underfoot, on +the path beaten betwixt house and stable, the snow crunched and +complained as they walked, and in the open where the mad winds had +piled it in hard, white windrows. But in the thick woods it lay as it +had fallen, full five foot deep, a downy wrapping for the slumbering +earth, over which Bill Wagstaff flitted on his snowshoes as silently as +a ghost--a fur-clad ghost, however, who bore a rifle on his shoulder, +and whose breath exhaled in white, steamy puffs. + +Gold or no gold, the wild land was giving up its treasure to them. +Already the catch of furs totaled ninety marten, a few mink, a dozen +wolves--and two pelts of that rara avis, the silver fox. Around twelve +hundred dollars, Bill estimated, with four months yet to trap. And the +labor of tending the trap lines, of skinning and stretching the catch, +served to keep them both occupied--Hazel as much as he, for she went +out with him on all but the hardest trips. So that their isolation in +the hushed, white world where the frost ruled with an iron hand had not +so far become oppressive. They were too busy to develop that dour +affliction of the spirit which loneliness and idleness breed through +the long winters of the North. + +A day or two after the first of the year Roaring Bill set out to go +over one of the uttermost trap lines. Five minutes after closing the +door he was back. + +"Easy with that fire, little person," he cautioned. "She's blowing out +of the northwest again. The sparks are sailing pretty high. Keep your +eye on it, Hazel." + +"All right, Billum," she replied. "I'll be careful." + +Not more than fifty yards separated the house and stable. At the +stable end stood the stack of hay, a low hummock above the surrounding +drift. Except for the place where Bill daily removed the supply for +his horses there was not much foothold for a spark, since a thin coat +of snow overlaid the greater part of the top. But there was that +chance of catastrophe. The chimney of their fireplace yawned wide to +the sky, vomiting sparks and ash like a miniature volcano when the fire +was roughly stirred, or an extra heavy supply of dry wood laid on. +When the wind whistled out of the northwest the line of flight was fair +over the stack. It behooved them to watch wind and fire. By keeping a +bed of coals and laying on a stick or two at a time a gale might roar +across the chimney-top without sucking forth a spark large enough to +ignite the hay. Hence Bill's warning. He had spoken of it before. + +Hazel washed up her breakfast dishes, and set the cabin in order +according to her housewifely instincts. Then she curled up in the +chair which Bill had painstakingly constructed for her especial comfort +with only ax and knife for tools. She was working up a pair of +moccasins after an Indian pattern, and she grew wholly absorbed in the +task, drawing stitch after stitch of sinew strongly and neatly into +place. The hours flicked past in unseemly haste, so completely was she +engrossed. When at length the soreness of her fingers warned her that +she had been at work a long time, she looked at her watch. + +"Goodness me! Bill's due home any time, and I haven't a thing ready to +eat," she exclaimed. "And here's my fire nearly out." + +She piled on wood, and stirring the coals under it, fanned them with +her husband's old felt hat, forgetful of sparks or aught but that she +should be cooking against his hungry arrival. Outside, the wind blew +lustily, driving the loose snow across the open in long, wavering +ribbons. But she had forgotten that it was in the dangerous quarter, +and she did not recall that important fact even when she sat down again +to watch her moose steaks broil on the glowing coals raked apart from +the leaping blaze. The flames licked into the throat of the chimney +with the purr of a giant cat. + +No sixth sense warned her of impending calamity. It burst upon her +with startling abruptness only when she opened the door to throw out +some scraps of discarded meat, for the blaze of the burning stack shot +thirty feet in the air, and the smoke rolled across the meadow in a +sooty manner. + +Bareheaded, in a thin pair of moccasins, without coat or mittens to +fend her from the lance-toothed frost. Hazel ran to the stable. She +could get the horses out, perhaps, before the log walls became their +crematory. But Bill, coming in from his traps, reached the stable +first, and there was nothing for her to do but stand and watch with a +sickening self-reproach. He untied and clubbed the reluctant horses +outside. Already the stable end against the hay was shooting up +tongues of flame. As the blaze lapped swiftly over the roof and ate +into the walls, the horses struggled through the deep drift, lunging +desperately to gain a few yards, then turned to stand with ears pricked +up at the strange sight, shivering in the bitter northwest wind that +assailed their bare, unprotected bodies. + +Bill himself drew back from the fire, and stared at it fixedly. He +kept silence until Hazel timidly put her hand on his arm. + +"You watched that fire all right, didn't you?" he said then. + +"Bill, Bill!" she cried. But he merely shrugged his shoulders, and +kept his gaze fixed on the burning stable. + +To Hazel, shivering with the cold, even close as she was to the intense +heat, it seemed an incredibly short time till a glowing mound below the +snow level was all that remained; a black-edged pit that belched smoke +and sparks. That and five horses humped tail to the driving wind, +stolidly enduring. She shuddered with something besides the cold. And +then Bill spoke absently, his eyes still on the smoldering heap. + +"Five feet of caked snow on top of every blade of grass," she heard him +mutter. "They can't browse on trees, like deer. Aw, hell!" + +He had stuck his rifle butt first in the snow. He walked over to it; +Hazel followed. When he stood, with the rifle slung in the crook of +his arm, she tried again to break through this silent aloofness which +cut her more deeply than any harshness of speech could have done. + +"Bill, I'm so sorry!" she pleaded. "It's terrible, I know. What can +we do?" + +"Do? Huh!" he snorted. "If I ever have to die before my time, I hope +it will be with a full belly and my head in the air--and mercifully +swift." + +Even then she had no clear idea of his intention. She looked up at him +pleadingly, but he was staring at the horses, his teeth biting +nervously at his under lip. Suddenly he blinked, and she saw his eyes +moisten. In the same instant he threw up the rifle. At the thin, +vicious crack of it, Silk collapsed. + +She understood then. With her hand pressed hard over her mouth to keep +back the hysterical scream that threatened, she fled to the house. +Behind her the rifle spat forth its staccato message of death. For a +few seconds the mountains flung whiplike echoes back and forth in a +volley. Then the sibilant voice of the wind alone broke the stillness. + +Numbed with the cold, terrified at the elemental ruthlessness of it +all, she threw herself on the bed, denied even the relief of tears. +Dry-eyed and heavy-hearted, she waited her husband's coming, and +dreading it--for the first time she had seen her Bill look on her with +cold, critical anger. For an interminable time she lay listening for +the click of the latch, every nerve strung tight. + +He came at last, and the thump of his rifle as he stood it against the +wall had no more than sounded before he was bending over her. He sat +down on the edge of the bed, and putting his arm across her shoulders, +turned her gently so that she faced him. + +"Never mind, little person," he whispered. "It's done and over. I'm +sorry I slashed at you the way I did. That's a fool man's way--if he's +hurt and sore he always has to jump on somebody else." + +Then by some queer complexity of her woman's nature the tears forced +their way. She did not want to cry--only the weak and mushy-minded +wept. She had always fought back tears unless she was shaken to the +roots of her soul. But it was almost a relief to cry with Bill's arm +holding her close. And it was brief. She sat up beside him presently. +He held her hand tucked in between his own two palms, but he looked +wistfully at the window, as if he were seeing what lay beyond. + +"Poor, dumb devils!" he murmured. "I feel like a murderer. But it was +pure mercy to them. They won't suffer the agony of frost, nor the slow +pain of starvation. That's what it amounted to--they'd starve if they +didn't freeze first. I've known men I would rather have shot. I +bucked many a hard old trail with Silk and Satin. Poor, dumb devils!" + +"D-don't, Bill!" she cried forlornly. "I know it's my fault. I let +the fire almost go out, and then built it up big without thinking. And +I know being sorry doesn't make any difference. But please--I don't +want to be miserable over it. I'll never be careless again." + +"All right; I won't talk about it, hon," he said. "I don't think you +will ever be careless about such things again. The North won't let us +get away with it. The wilderness is bigger than we are, and it's +merciless if we make mistakes." + +"I see that." She shuddered involuntarily. "It's a grim country. It +frightens me." + +"Don't let it," he said tenderly. "So long as we have our health and +strength we can win out, and be stronger for the experience. Winter's +a tough proposition up here, but you want to fight shy of morbid +brooding over things that can't be helped. This ever-lasting frost and +snow will be gone by and by. It'll be spring. And everything looks +different when there's green grass and flowers, and the sun is warm. +Buck up, old girl--Bill's still on the job." + +"How can you prospect in the spring without horses to pack the outfit?" +she asked, after a little. "How can we get out of here with all the +stuff we'll have?" + +"We'll manage it," he assured lightly. "We'll get out with our furs +and gold, all right, and we won't go hungry on the way, even if we have +no pack train. Leave it to me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +JACK FROST WITHDRAWS + +All through the month of January each evening, as dusk folded its +somber mantle about the meadow, the wolves gathered to feast on the +dead horses, till Hazel's nerves were strained to the snapping point. +Continually she was reminded of that vivid episode, of which she had +been the unwitting cause. Sometimes she would open the door, and from +out the dark would arise the sound of wolfish quarrels over the feast, +disembodied snappings and snarlings. Or when the low-swimming moon +shed a misty glimmer on the open she would peer through a thawed place +on the window-pane, and see gray shapes circling about the half-picked +skeletons. Sometimes, when Bill was gone, and all about the cabin was +utterly still, one, bolder or hungrier than his fellows, would trot +across the meadow, drawn by the scent of the meat. Two or three of +these Hazel shot with her own rifle. + +But when February marked another span on the calendar the wolves came +no more. The bones were clean. + +There was no impending misfortune or danger that she could point to or +forecast with certitude. Nevertheless, struggle against it as she +might, knowing it for pure psychological phenomena arising out of her +harsh environment. Hazel suffered continual vague forebodings. The +bald, white peaks seemed to surround her like a prison from which there +could be no release. From day to day she was harassed by dismal +thoughts. She would wake in the night clutching at her husband. Such +days as he went out alone she passed in restless anxiety. Something +would happen. What it would be she did not know, but to her it seemed +that the bleak stage was set for untoward drama, and they two the +puppets that must play. + +She strove against this impression with cold logic; but reason availed +nothing against the feeling that the North had but to stretch forth its +mighty hand and crush them utterly. But all of this she concealed from +Bill. She was ashamed of her fears, the groundless uneasiness. Yet it +was a constant factor in her daily life, and it sapped her vitality as +surely and steadily as lack of bodily nourishment could have done. + +Had there been in her make-up any inherent weakness of mentality, Hazel +might perhaps have brooded herself into neurasthenia. Few save those +who have actually experienced complete isolation for extended periods +can realize the queer, warped outlook such an existence imposes on the +human mind, if that mind is a trifle more than normally sensitive to +impressions, and a nature essentially social both by inclination and +habit. In the first months of their marriage she had assured herself +and him repeatedly that she could be perfectly happy and contented any +place on earth with Bill Wagstaff. + +Emotion has blinded wiser folk, and perhaps that is merely a little +device of nature's, for if one could look into the future with too +great a clarity of vision there would be fewer matings. In the main +her declaration still held true. She loved her husband with the same +intensity; possibly even more, for she had found in him none of the +flaws which every woman dreads that time and association may bring to +light in her chosen mate. + +When Bill drew her up close in his arms, the intangible menace of the +wilderness and all the dreary monotony of the days faded into the +background. But they, no more than others who have tried and failed +for lack of understanding, could not live their lives with their heads +in an emotional cloud. For every action there must be a corresponding +reaction. They who have the capacity to reach the heights must +likewise, upon occasion, plumb the depths. Life, she began to realize, +resolved itself into an unending succession of little, trivial things, +with here and there some great event looming out above all the rest for +its bestowal of happiness or pain. + +Bill knew. He often talked about such things. She was beginning to +understand that he had a far more comprehensive grasp of the +fundamentals of existence that she had. He had explained to her that +the individual unit was nothing outside of his group affiliations, and +she applied that to herself in a practical way in an endeavor to +analyze herself. She was a group product, and only under group +conditions could her life flow along nonirritant lines. Such being the +case, it followed that if Bill persisted in living out of the world +they would eventually drift apart, in spirit if not in actuality. And +that was an absurd summing-up. + +She rejected the conclusion decisively. For was not their present +situation the net result of a concrete endeavor to strike a balance +between the best of what both the wilderness and the humming cities had +to offer them? It seemed treason to Bill to long for other voices and +other faces. Yet she could not help the feeling. She wondered if he, +too, did not sometimes long for company besides her own. And the +thought stirred up a perverse jealousy. They two, perfectly mated in +all things, should be able to make their own little world complete--but +they could not, she knew. Life was altogether too complex an affair to +be solved in so primitive a fashion. She felt that continued living +under such conditions would drive her mad; that if she stayed long +enough under the somber shadow of the Klappan Range she would hate the +North and all it contained. + +That would have been both unjust and absurd, so she set herself +resolutely to overcome that feeling of oppression. She was too +well-balanced to drift unwittingly along this perilous road of thought. +She schooled herself to endure and to fight off introspection. She had +absorbed enough of her husband's sturdy philosophy of life to try and +make the best of a bad job. After all, she frequently assured herself, +the badness of the job was mostly a state of mind. And she had a +growing conviction that Bill sensed the struggle, and that it hurt him. +For that reason, if for no other, she did her best to make light of the +grim environment, and to wait patiently for spring. + +February and March stormed a path furiously across the calendar. +Higher and higher the drifts piled about the cabin, till at length it +was banked to the eaves with snow save where Bill shoveled it away to +let light to the windows. Day after day they kept indoors, stoking up +the fire, listening to the triumphant whoop of the winds. + +"Snow, snow!" Hazel burst out one day. "Frost that cuts you like a +knife. I wonder if there's ever going to be an end to it? I wish we +were home again--or some place." + +"So do I, little person," Bill said gently. "But spring's almost at +the door. Hang on a little longer. We've made a fair stake, anyway, +if we don't wash an ounce of gold." + +Hazel let her gaze wander over the pelts hanging thick from ridge log +and wall. Bill had fared well at his trapping. Over two thousand +dollars he estimated the value of his catch. + +"How are we going to get it all out?" She voiced a troublesome thought. + +"Shoulder pack to the Skeena," he answered laconically. "Build a +dugout there, and float downstream. Portage the rapids as they come." + +"Oh, Bill!" she came and leaned her head against him contritely. "Our +poor ponies! And it was all my carelessness." + +"Never mind, hon," he comforted. "They blinked out without suffering. +And we'll make it like a charm. Be game--it'll soon be spring." + +As if in verification of his words, with the last breath of that +howling storm came a sudden softening of the atmosphere. The sharp +teeth of the frost became swiftly blunted, and the sun, swinging daily +in a wider arc, brought the battery of his rays into effective play on +the mountainsides. The drifts lessened, shrunk, became moisture +sodden. For ten days or more the gradual thaw increased. Then a +lusty-lunged chinook wind came booming up along the Klappan Range, and +stripped it to a bare, steaming heap. Overhead whistled the first +flight of the wild goose, bound for the nesting grounds. Night and day +the roar of a dozen cataracts droned on all sides of the basin, as the +melting snow poured down in the annual spring flood. + +By April the twentieth the abdication of Jack Frost was complete. A +kindlier despot ruled the land, and Bill Wagstaff began to talk of gold. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE STRIKE + + ". . . that precious yellow metal sought by men + In regions desolate. + Pursued in patient hope or furious toil; + Breeder of discord, wars, and murderous hate; + The victor's spoil." + + +So Hazel quoted, leaning over her husband's shoulder. In the bottom of +his pan, shining among a film of black sand, lay half a dozen bright +specks, varying from pin-point size to the bigness of a grain of wheat. + +"That's the stuff," Bill murmured. "Only it seems rather far-fetched +for your poet to blame inanimate matter for the cussedness of humanity +in general. I suppose, though, he thought he was striking a highly +dramatic note. Anyway, it looks as if we'd struck it pretty fair. +It's time, too--the June rise will hit us like a whirlwind one of these +days." + +"About what is the value of those little pieces?" Hazel asked. + +"Oh, fifty or sixty cents," he answered. "Not much by itself. But it +seems to be uniform over the bar--and I can wash a good many pans in a +day's work." + +"I should think so," she remarked. "It didn't take you ten minutes to +do that one." + +"Whitey Lewis and I took out over two hundred dollars a day on that +other creek last spring--no, a year last spring, it was," he observed +reminiscently. "This isn't as good, but it's not to be sneezed at, +either. I think I'll make me a rocker. I've sampled this bend quite a +lot, and I don't think I can do any better than fly at this while the +water stays low." + +"I can help, can't I?" she said eagerly. + +"Sure," he smiled. "You help a lot, little person, just sitting around +keeping me company." + +"But I want to work," she declared. "I've sat around now till I'm +getting the fidgets." + +"All right; I'll give you a job," he returned good-naturedly. +"Meantime, let's eat that lunch you packed up here." + +In a branch of the creek which flowed down through the basin. Bill had +found plentiful colors as soon as the first big run-off of water had +fallen. He had followed upstream painstakingly, panning colors always, +and now and then a few grains of coarse gold to encourage him in the +quest. The loss of their horses precluded ranging far afield to that +other glacial stream which he had worked with Whitey Lewis when he was +a free lance in the North. He was close to his base of supplies, and +he had made wages--with always the prospector's lure of a rich strike +on the next bar. + +And now, with May well advanced, he had found definite indications of +good pay dirt. The creek swung in a hairpin curve, and in the neck +between the two sides of the loop the gold was sifted through wash +gravel and black sand, piled there by God only knew how many centuries +of glacial drift and flood. But it was there. He had taken panfuls at +random over the bar, and uniformly it gave up coarse gold. With a +rocker he stood a fair chance of big money before the June rise. + +"In the morning," said he, when lunch was over, "I'll bring along the +ax and some nails and a shovel, and get busy." + +That night they trudged down to the cabin in high spirits. Bill had +washed out enough during the afternoon to make a respectable showing on +Hazel's outspread handkerchief. And Hazel was in a gleeful mood over +the fact that she had unearthed a big nugget by herself. Beginner's +luck, Bill said teasingly, but that did not diminish her elation. The +old, adventurous glamour, which the long winter and moods of depression +had worn threadbare, began to cast its pleasant spell over her again. +The fascination of the gold hunt gripped her. Not for the stuff +itself, but for what it would get. She wondered if the men who dared +the impassive solitudes of the North for weary, lonesome years saw in +every morsel of the gold they found a picture of what that gold would +buy them in kindlier lands. And some never found any, never won the +stake that would justify the gamble. It was a gamble, in a sense--a +pure game of chance; but a game that took strength, and nerve, a sturdy +soul, to play. + +Still, the gold was there, locked up in divers storing places in the +lap of the earth, awaiting those virile enough to find and take. And +out beyond, in the crowded places of the earth, were innumerable +gateways to comfort and pleasure which could be opened with gold. It +remained only to balance the one against the other. Just as she had +often planned according to her opportunities when she was a wage slave +in the office of Bush and Company, so now did she plan for the future +on a broader scale, now that the North promised to open its treasure +vault to them--an attitude which Bill Wagstaff encouraged and abetted +in his own whimsical fashion. There was nothing too good for them, he +sometimes observed, provided it could be got. But there was one +profound difference in their respective temperaments, Hazel sometimes +reflected. Bill would shrug his wide shoulders, and forget or forego +the unattainable, where she would chafe and fume. She was quite +positive of this. + +But as the days passed there seemed no question of their complete +success. Bill fabricated his rocker, a primitive, boxlike device with +a blanket screen and transverse slats below. It was faster than the +pan, even rude as it was, and it caught all but the finer particles of +gold. Hazel helped operate the rocker, and took her turn at shoveling +or filling the box with water while Bill rocked. Each day's end sent +her to her bed healthily tired, but happily conscious that she had +helped to accomplish something. + +A queer twist of luck put the cap-sheaf on their undertaking. Hazel +ran a splinter of wood into her hand, thus putting a stop to her +activities with shovel and pail. Until the wound lost its soreness she +was forced to sit idle. She could watch Bill ply his rocker while she +fought flies on the bank. This grew tiresome, particularly since she +had the sense to realize that a man who works with sweat streaming down +his face and a mind wholly absorbed in the immediate task has no desire +to be bothered with inconsequential chatter. So she rambled along the +creek one afternoon, armed with hook and line on a pliant willow in +search of sport. + +The trout were hungry, and struck fiercely at the bait. She soon had +plenty for supper and breakfast. Wherefore she abandoned that +diversion, and took to prying tentatively in the lee of certain +bowlders on the edge of the creek--prospecting on her own initiative, +as it were. She had no pan, and only one hand to work with, but she +knew gold when she saw it--and, after all, it was but an idle method of +killing time. + +She noticed behind each rock and in every shallow, sheltered place in +the stream a plentiful gathering of tiny red stones. They were of a +pale, ruby cast, and mostly flawed; dainty trifles, translucent and +full of light when she held them to the sun. She began a search for a +larger specimen. It might mount nicely into a stickpin for Bill, she +thought; a memento of the Klappan Range. + +And in this search she came upon a large, rusty pebble, snuggled on the +downstream side of an over-hanging rock right at the water's edge. It +attracted her first by its symmetrical form, a perfect oval; then, when +she lifted it, by its astonishing weight. She continued her search for +the pinkish-red stones, carrying the rusty pebble along. Presently she +worked her way back to where Roaring Bill labored prodigiously. + +"I feel ashamed to be loafing while you work so hard, Billy-boy," she +greeted. + +"Give me a kiss and I'll call it square," he proposed cheerfully. "Got +to work like a beaver, kid. This hot weather'll put us to the bad +before long. There'll be ten feet of water roaring down here one of +these days." + +"Look at these pretty stones I found," she said. "What are they, Bill?" + +"Those?" He looked at her outstretched palm. "Garnets." + +"Garnets? They must be valuable, then," she observed. "The creek's +full of them." + +"Valuable? I should say so," he grinned. "I sent a sample to a +Chicago firm once. They replied to the effect that they would take all +I could deliver, and pay thirty-six dollars a ton, f. o. b., my nearest +railroad station." + +"Oh!" she protested. "But they're pretty." + +"Yes, if you can find one of any size. What's the other rock?" he +inquired casually. "You making a collection of specimens?" + +"That's just a funny stone I found," she returned. "It must be iron or +something. It's terribly heavy for its size." + +"Eh? Let me see it," he said. + +She handed it over. + +He weighed it in his palm, scrutinized it closely, turning it over and +over. Then he took out his knife and scratched the rusty surface +vigorously for a few minutes. + +"Huh!" he grunted. "Look at your funny stone." + +He held it out for her inspection. The blade of his knife had left a +dull, yellow scar. + +"Oh!" she gasped. "Why--it's gold!" + +"It is, woman," he declaimed, with mock solemnity. "Gold--glittering +gold! + +"Say, where did you find this?" he asked, when Hazel stared at the +nugget, dumb in the face of this unexpected stroke of fortune. + +"Just around the second bend," she cried. "Oh, Bill, do you suppose +there's any more there?" + +"Lead me to it with my trusty pan and shovel, and we'll see," Bill +smiled. + +Forthwith they set out. The overhanging bowlder was a scant ten +minute's walk up the creek. + +Bill leaned on his shovel, and studied the ground. Then, getting down +on his knees at the spot where the marks of Hazel's scratching showed +plain enough, he began to paw over the gravel. + +Within five minutes his fingers brought to light a second lump, double +the size of her find. Close upon that he winnowed a third. Hazel +leaned over him, breathless. He sifted the gravel and sand through his +fingers slowly, picking out and examining all that might be the +precious metal, and as he picked and clawed the rusty, brown nuggets +came to light. At last he reached bottom. The bowlder thrust out +below in a natural shelf. From this Bill carefully scraped the +accumulation of black sand and gravel, gleaning as a result of his +labor a baker's dozen of assorted chunks--one giant that must have +weighed three pounds. He sat back on his haunches, and looked at his +wife, speechless. + +"Is that truly _all_ gold, Bill?" she whispered incredulously. + +"It certainly is--as good gold as ever went into the mint," he assured. +"All laid in a nice little nest on this shelf of rock. I've heard of +such things up in this country, but I never ran into one before--and +I've always taken this pocket theory with a grain of salt. But there +you are. That's a real, honest-to-God pocket. And a well-lined one, +if you ask me. This rusty-colored outside is oxidized iron--from the +black sand, I guess. Still, it might be something else. But I know +what the inside is, all right, all right." + +"My goodness!" she murmured. "There might be wagonloads of it in this +creek." + +"There might, but it isn't likely." Bill shook his head. "This is a +simon-pure pocket, and it would keep a graduate mineralogist guessing +to say how it got here, because it's a different proposition from the +wash gold in the creek bed. I've got all that's here, I'm pretty sure. +And you might prospect this creek from end to end and never find +another nugget bigger than a pea. It's rich placer ground, at +that--but this pocket's almost unbelievable. Must be forty pounds of +gold there. And you found it. You're the original mascot, little +person." + +He bestowed a bearlike hug upon her. + +"Now what?" she asked. "It hardly seems real to pick up several +thousand dollars in half an hour or so like this. What will we do?" + +"Do? Why, bless your dear soul," he laughed. "We'll just consider +ourselves extra lucky, and keep right on with the game till the high +water makes us quit." + +Which was a contingency nearer at hand than even Bill, with a firsthand +knowledge of the North's vagaries in the way of flood, quite +anticipated. + +Three days after the finding of the pocket the whole floor of the creek +was awash. His rocker went downstream overnight. To the mouth of the +canon where the branch sought junction with the parent stream they +could ascend, and no farther. And when Bill saw that he rolled himself +a cigarette, and, putting one long arm across his wife's shoulders, +said whimsically: + +"What d'you say we start home?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE STRESS OF THE TRAIL + +Roaring Bill dumped his second pack on the summit of the Klappan, and +looked away to where the valley that opened out of the basin showed its +blurred hollow in the distance. But he uttered no useless regrets. +With horses they could have ridden south through a rolling country, +where every stretch of timber gave on a grass-grown level. Instead +they were forced back over the rugged route by which they had crossed +the range the summer before. Grub, bedding, furs, and gold totaled two +hundred pounds. On his sturdy shoulders Bill could pack half that +weight. For his wife the thing was a physical impossibility, even had +he permitted her to try. Hence every mile advanced meant that he +doubled the distance, relaying from one camp to the next. They cut +their bedding to a blanket apiece, and that was Hazel's load--all he +would allow her to carry. + +"You're no pack mule, little person," he would say. "It don't hurt me. +I've done this for years." + +But even with abnormal strength and endurance, it was killing work to +buck those ragged slopes with a heavy load. Only by terrible, +unremitting effort could he advance any appreciable distance. From +daybreak till noon they would climb and rest alternately. Then, after +a meal and a short breathing spell, he would go back alone after the +second load. They were footsore, and their bodies ached with weariness +that verged on pain when they gained the pass that cut the summit of +the Klappan Range. + +"Well, we're over the hump," Bill remarked thankfully. "It's a +downhill shoot to the Skeena. I don't think it's more than fifty or +sixty miles to where we can take to the water." + +They made better time on the western slope, but the journey became a +matter of sheer endurance. Summer was on them in full blaze. The +creeks ran full and strong. Thunderstorms blew up out of a clear sky +to deluge them. Food was scanty--flour and salt and tea; with meat and +fish got by the way. And the black flies and mosquitoes swarmed about +them maddeningly day and night. + +So they came at last to the Skeena, and Hazel's heart misgave her when +she took note of its swirling reaches, the sinuous eddies--a deep, +swift, treacherous stream. But Bill rested overnight, and in the +morning sought and felled a sizable cedar, and began to hew. Slowly +the thick trunk shaped itself to the form of a boat under the steady +swing of his ax. Hazel had seen the type in use among the coast +Siwashes, twenty-five feet in length, narrow-beamed, the sides cut to a +half inch in thickness, the bottom left heavier to withstand scraping +over rock, and to keep it on an even keel. A rude and tricky craft, +but one wholly efficient in capable hands. + +In a week it was finished. They loaded the sack of gold, the bundle of +furs, their meager camp outfit amidships, and swung off into the stream. + +The Skeena drops fifteen hundred feet in a hundred miles. Wherefore +there are rapids, boiling stretches of white water in which many a good +canoe has come to grief. Some of these they ran at imminent peril. +Over the worst they lined the canoe from the bank. One or two short +canons they portaged, dragging the heavy dugout through the brush by +main strength. Once they came to a wall-sided gorge that ran away +beyond any attempt at portage, and they abandoned the dugout, to build +another at the lower end. But between these natural barriers they +clicked off the miles in hot haste, such was the swiftness of the +current. And in the second week of July they brought up at the head of +Kispiox Canon. Hazleton lay a few miles below. But the Kispiox stayed +them, a sluice box cut through solid stone, in which the waters raged +with a deafening roar. No man ventured into that wild gorge. They +abandoned the dugout. Bill slung the sack of gold and the bale of furs +on his back. + +"It's the last lap, Hazel," said he. "We'll leave the rest of it for +the first Siwash that happens along." + +So they set out bravely to trudge the remaining distance. And as the +fortunes of the trail sometimes befall, they raised an Indian camp on +the bank of the river at the mouth of the canon. A ten-dollar bill +made them possessors of another canoe, and an hour later the roofs of +Hazleton cropped up above the bank. + +"Oh, Bill," Hazel called from the bow. "Look! There's the same old +steamer tied to the same old bank. We've been gone a year, and yet the +world hasn't changed a mite. I wonder if Hazleton has taken a Rip van +Winkle sleep all this time?" + +"No fear," he smiled. "I can see some new houses--quite a few, in +fact. And look--by Jiminy! They're working on the grade. That +railroad, remember? See all those teams? Maybe I ought to have taken +up old Hackaberry on that town-lot proposition, after all." + +"Fiddlesticks!" she retorted, with fine scorn of Hazleton's real-estate +possibilities. "You could buy the whole town with this." + +She touched the sack with her toe. + +"Not quite," Bill returned placidly. "I wouldn't, anyway. We'll get a +better run for our money than that. I hope old Hack didn't forget to +attend to that ranch business for me." + +He drove the canoe alongside a float. A few loungers viewed them with +frank curiosity. Bill set out the treasure sack and the bale of furs, +and tied the canoe. + +"A new hotel, by Jove!" he remarked, when upon gaining the level of the +town a new two-story building blazoned with a huge sign its function as +a hostelry. "Getting quite metropolitan in this neck of the woods. +Say, little person, do you think you can relish a square meal? Planked +steak and lobster salad--huh? I wonder if they _could_ rustle a salad +in this man's town? Say, do you know I'm just beginning to find out +how hungry I am for the flesh-pots. What's the matter with a little +variety?--as Lin MacLean said. Aren't you, hon?" + +She was; frankly so. For long, monotonous months she had been +struggling against just such cravings, impossible of realization, and +therefore all the more tantalizing. She had been a year in the +wilderness, and the wilderness had not only lost its glamour, but had +become a thing to flee from. Even the rude motley of Hazleton was a +welcome change. Here at least--on a minor scale, to be sure--was that +which she craved, and to which she had been accustomed--life, stir, +human activity, the very antithesis of the lonely mountain fastnesses. +She bestowed a glad pressure on her husband's arm as they walked up the +street, Bill carrying the sack of gold perched carelessly on one +shoulder. + +"Say, their enterprise has gone the length of establishing a branch +bank here, I see." + +He called her attention to a square-fronted edifice, its new-boarded +walls as yet guiltless of paint, except where a row of black letters +set forth that it was the Bank of British North America. + +"That's a good place to stow this bullion," he remarked. "I want to +get it off my hands." + +So to the bank they bent their steps. A solemn, horse-faced Englishman +weighed the gold, and issued Bill a receipt, expressing a polite regret +that lack of facility to determine its fineness prevented him from +converting it into cash. + +"That means a trip to Vancouver," Bill remarked outside. "Well, we can +stand that." + +From the bank they went to the hotel, registered, and were shown to a +room. For the first time since the summit of the Klappan Range, where +her tiny hand glass had suffered disaster, Hazel was permitted a clear +view of herself in a mirror. + +"I'm a perfect fright!" she mourned. + +"Huh!" Bill grunted. "You're all right. Look at me." + +The trail had dealt hardly with both, in the matter of their personal +appearance. Tanned to an abiding brown, they were, and Hazel's +one-time smooth face was spotted with fly bites and marked with certain +scratches suffered in the brush as they skirted the Kispiox. Her hair +had lost its sleek, glossy smoothness of arrangement. Her hands were +reddened and rough. But chiefly she was concerned with the sad state +of her apparel. She had come a matter of four hundred miles in the +clothes on her back--and they bore unequivocal evidence of the journey. + +"I'm a perfect fright," she repeated pettishly. "I don't wonder that +people lapse into semi-barbarism in the backwoods. One's manners, +morals, clothing, and complexion all suffer from too close contact with +your beloved North, Bill." + +"Thanks!" he returned shortly. "I suppose I'm a perfect fright, too. +Long hair, whiskers, grimy, calloused hands, and all the rest of it. A +shave and a hair cut, a bath and a new suit of clothes will remedy +that. But I'll be the same personality in every essential quality that +I was when I sweated over the Klappan with a hundred pounds on my back." + +"I hope so," she retorted. "I don't require the shave, thank goodness, +but I certainly need a bath--and clothes. I wish I had the gray suit +that's probably getting all moldy and moth-eaten at the Pine River +cabin. I wonder if I can get anything fit to wear here?" + +"Women live here," Bill returned quietly, "and I suppose the stores +supply 'em with duds. Unlimber that bank roll of yours, and do some +shopping." + +She sat on the edge of the bed, regarding her reflection in the mirror +with extreme disfavor. Bill fingered his thick stubble of a beard for +a thoughtful minute. Then he sat down beside her. + +"Wha's a mollah, hon?" he wheedled. "What makes you such a crosser +patch all at once?" + +"Oh, I don't know," she answered dolefully. "I'm tired and hungry, and +I look a fright--and--oh, just everything." + +"Tut, tut!" he remonstrated good-naturedly. "That's just mood again. +We're out of the woods, literally and figuratively. If you're hungry, +let's go and see what we can make this hotel produce in the way of +grub, before we do anything else." + +"I wouldn't go into their dining-room looking like this for the world," +she said decisively. "I didn't realize how dirty and shabby I was." + +"All right; you go shopping, then," he proposed, "while I take these +furs up to old Hack's place and turn them into money. Then we'll +dress, and make this hotel feed us the best they've got. Cheer up. +Maybe it was tough on you to slice a year out of your life and leave it +in a country where there's nothing but woods and eternal silence--but +we've got around twenty thousand dollars to show for it, Hazel. And +one can't get something for nothing. There's a price mark on it +somewhere, always. We've got all our lives before us, little person, +and a better chance for happiness than most folks have. Don't let +little things throw you into the blues. Be my good little pal--and see +if you can't make one of these stores dig up a white waist and a black +skirt, like you had on the first time I saw you." + +He kissed her, and went quickly out. And after a long time of sober +staring at her image in the glass Hazel shook herself impatiently. + +"I'm a silly, selfish, incompetent little beast," she whispered. "Bill +ought to thump me, instead of being kind. I can't do anything, and I +don't know much, and I'm a scarecrow for looks right now. And I +started out to be a real partner." + +She wiped an errant tear away, and made her way to a store--a new place +sprung up, like the bank and the hotel, with the growing importance of +the town. The stock of ready-made clothing drove her to despair. It +seemed that what women resided in Hazleton must invariably dress in +Mother Hubbard gowns of cheap cotton print with other garments to +match. But eventually they found for her undergarments of a sort, a +waist and skirt, and a comfortable pair of shoes. Hats, as a milliner +would understand the term, there were none. And in default of such she +stuck to the gray felt sombrero she had worn into the Klappan and out +again--which, in truth, became her very well, when tilted at the proper +angle above her heavy black hair. Then she went back to the hotel, and +sought a bathroom. + +Returning from this she found Bill, a Bill all shaved and shorn, +unloading himself of sundry packages of new attire. + +"Aha, everything is lovely," he greeted enthusiastically. "Old Hack +jumped at the pelts, and paid a fat price for the lot. Also the ranch +deal has gone through. He's a prince, old Hack. Sent up a man and had +it surveyed and classified and the deed waiting for me. And--oh, say, +here's a letter for you." + +"For me? Oh, yes," as she looked at the hand-writing and postmark. "I +wrote to Loraine Marsh when we were going north. Good heavens, look at +the date--it's been here since last September!" + +"Hackaberry knew where we were," Bill explained. "Sometimes in camps +like this they hold mail two or three years for men that have gone into +the interior." + +She put aside the letter, and dressed while Bill had his bath. Then, +with the smoke and grime of a hard trail obliterated, and with decent +clothes upon them, they sought the dining-room. There, while they +waited to be served, Hazel read Loraine Marsh's letter, and passed it +to Bill with a self-conscious little laugh. + +"There's an invitation there we might accept," she said casually. + +Bill read. There were certain comments upon her marriage, such as the +average girl might be expected to address to her chum who has forsaken +spinsterhood, a lot of chatty mention of Granville people and Granville +happenings, which held no particular interest for Bill since he knew +neither one nor the other, and it ended with an apparently sincere hope +that Hazel and her husband would visit Granville soon as the Marshes' +guests. + +He returned the letter as the waitress brought their food. + +"Wouldn't it be nice to take a trip home?" Hazel suggested +thoughtfully. "I'd love to." + +"We are going home," Bill reminded gently. + +"Oh, of course," she smiled. "But I mean to Granville. I'd like to go +back there with you for a while, just to--just to--" + +"To show 'em," he supplied laconically. + +"Oh, Bill!" she pouted. + +Nevertheless, she could not deny that there was a measure of truth in +his brief remark. She did want to "show 'em." Bill's vernacular +expressed it exactly. She had compassed success in a manner that +Granville--and especially that portion of Granville which she knew and +which knew her--could appreciate and understand and envy according to +its individual tendencies. + +She looked across the table at her husband, and thought to herself with +proud satisfaction that she had done well. Viewed from any angle +whatsoever, Bill Wagstaff stood head and shoulders above all the men +she had ever known. Big, physically and mentally, clean-minded and +capable--indubitably she had captured a lion, and, though she might +have denied stoutly the imputation, she wanted Granville to see her +lion and hear him roar. + +Whether they realize the fact or not, to the average individual, male +or female, reflected glory is better than none at all. And when two +people stand in the most intimate relation to each other, the success +of one lends a measure of its luster to the other. Those who had been +so readily impressed by Andrew Bush's device to singe her social wings +with the flame of gossip had long since learned their mistake. She had +the word of Loraine Marsh and Jack Barrow that they were genuinely +sorry for having been carried away by appearances. And she could nail +her colors to the mast if she came home the wife of a man like Bill +Wagstaff, who could wrest a fortune from the wilderness in a briefer +span of time than it took most men to make current expenses. Hazel was +quite too human to refuse a march triumphal if it came her way. She +had left Granville in bitterness of spirit, and some of that bitterness +required balm. + +"Still thinking Granville?" Bill queried, when they had finished an +uncommonly silent meal. + +Hazel flushed slightly. She was, and momentarily she felt that she +should have been thinking of their little nest up by Pine River Pass +instead. She knew that Bill was homing to the cabin. She herself +regarded it with affection, but of a different degree from his. Her +mind was more occupied with another, more palpitating circle of life +than was possible at the cabin, much as she appreciated its green and +peaceful beauty. The sack of gold lying in the bank had somehow opened +up far-flung possibilities. She skipped the interval of affairs which +she knew must be attended to, and betook herself and Bill to Granville, +thence to the bigger, older cities, where money shouted in the voice of +command, where all things were possible to those who had the price. + +She had had her fill of the wilderness--for the time being, she put it. +It loomed behind her--vast, bleak, a desolation of loneliness from +which she must get away. She knew now, beyond peradventure, that her +heart had brought her back to the man in spite of, rather than because +of, his environment. And secure in the knowledge of his love for her +and her love for him, she was already beginning to indulge a dream of +transplanting him permanently to kindlier surroundings, where he would +have wider scope for his natural ability and she less isolation. + +But she was beginning to know this husband of hers too well to propose +anything of the sort abruptly. Behind his tenderness and patience she +had sometimes glimpsed something inflexible, unyielding as the +wilderness he loved. So she merely answered: + +"In a way, yes." + +"Let's go outside where I can smoke a decent cigar on top of this +fairly decent meal," he suggested. "Then we'll figure on the next +move. I think about twenty-four hours in Hazleton will do me. There's +a steamer goes down-river to-morrow." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +NEIGHBORS + +Four days later they stood on the deck of a grimy little steamer +breasting the outgoing tide that surged through the First Narrows. +Wooded banks on either hand spread dusky green in the hot August sun. +On their left glinted the roofs and white walls of Hollyburn, dear to +the suburban heart. Presently they swung around Brockton Point, and +Vancouver spread its peninsular clutter before them. Tugs and launches +puffed by, about their harbor traffic. A ferry clustered black with +people hurried across the inlet. But even above the harbor noises, +across the intervening distance they could hear the vibrant hum of the +industrial hive. + +"Listen to it," said Bill. "Like surf on the beaches. And, like the +surf, it's full of treacherous undercurrents, a bad thing to get into +unless you can swim strong enough to keep your head above water." + +"You're a thoroughgoing pessimist," she smiled. + +"No," he shook his head. "I merely know that it's a hard game to buck, +under normal conditions. We're of the fortunate few, that's all." + +"You're not going to spoil the pleasure that's within your reach by +pondering the misfortunes of those who are less lucky, are you?" she +inquired curiously. + +"Not much," he drawled. "Besides, that isn't my chief objection to +town. I simply can't endure the noise and confusion and the manifold +stinks, and the universal city attitude--which is to gouge the other +fellow before he gouges you. Too much like a dog fight. No, I haven't +any mission to remedy social and economic ills. I'm taking the +egotistic view that it doesn't concern me, that I'm perfectly justified +in enjoying myself in my own way, seeing that I'm in a position to do +so. We're going to take our fun as we find it. Just the same," he +finished thoughtfully, "I'd as soon be pulling into that ranch of ours +on the hurricane deck of a right good horse as approaching Vancouver's +water front. This isn't any place to spend money or to see anything. +It's a big, noisy, over-grown village, overrun with business exploiters +and real-estate sharks. It'll be a city some day. At present it's +still in the shambling stage of civic youth." + +In so far as Hazel had observed upon her former visit, this, if a +trifle sweeping, was in the main correct. So she had no regrets when +Bill confined their stay to the time necessary to turn his gold into a +bank account, and allow her to buy a trunkful, more or less, of pretty +clothes. Then they bore on eastward and halted at Ashcroft. Bill had +refused to commit himself positively to a date for the eastern +pilgrimage. He wanted to see the cabin again. For that matter she +did, too--so that their sojourn there did not carry them over another +winter. That loomed ahead like a vague threat. Those weary months in +the Klappan Range had filled her with the subtle poison of discontent, +for which she felt that new scenes and new faces would prove the only +antidote. + +"There's a wagon road to Fort George," he told her. "We could go in +there by the B. X. steamers, but I'm afraid we couldn't buy an outfit +to go on. I guess a pack outfit from the end of the stage line will be +about right." + +From Ashcroft an auto stage whirled them swiftly into the heart of the +Cariboo country--to Quesnelle, where Bill purchased four head of horses +in an afternoon, packed, saddled, and hit the trail at daylight in the +morning. + +It was very pleasant to loaf along a passable road mounted on a +light-footed horse, and Hazel enjoyed it if for no more than the +striking contrast to that terrible journey in and out of the Klappan. +Here were no heartbreaking mountains to scale. The scourge of flies +was well-nigh past. They took the road in easy stages, +well-provisioned, sleeping in a good bed at nights, camping as the +spirit moved when a likely trout stream crossed their trail, venison +and grouse all about them for variety of diet and the sport of hunting. + +So they fared through the Telegraph Range, crossed the Blackwater, and +came to Fort George by way of a ferry over the Fraser. + +"This country is getting civilized," Bill observed that evening. "They +tell me the G. T. P. has steel laid to a point three hundred miles east +of here. This bloomin' road'll be done in another year. They're +grading all along the line. I bought that hundred and sixty acres on +pure sentiment, but it looks like it may turn out a profitable business +transaction. That railroad is going to flood this country with +farmers, and settlement means a network of railroads and skyrocketing +ascension of land values." + +The vanguard of the land hungry had already penetrated to Fort George. +Up and down the Nachaco Valley, and bordering upon the Fraser, were the +cabins of the preemptors. The roads were dotted with the teams of the +incoming. A sizable town had sprung up around the old trading post. + +"They come like bees when the rush starts," Bill remarked. + +Leaving Fort George behind, they bore across country toward Pine River. +Here and there certain landmarks, graven deep in Hazel's recollection, +uprose to claim her attention. And one evening at sunset they rode up +to the little cabin, all forlorn in its clearing. + +The grass waved to their stirrups, and the pigweed stood rank up to the +very door. + +Inside, a gray film of dust had accumulated on everything, and the +rooms were oppressive with the musty odors that gather in a closed, +untenanted house. But apart from that it stood as they had left it +thirteen months before. No foot had crossed the threshold. The pile +of wood and kindling lay beside the fireplace as Bill had placed it the +morning they left. + +"'Be it ever so humble,'" Bill left the line of the old song +unfinished, but his tone was full of jubilation. Between them they +threw wide every door and window. The cool evening wind filled the +place with sweet, pine-scented air. Then Bill started a blaze roaring +in the black-mouthed fireplace--to make it look natural, he said--and +went out to hobble his horses for the night. + +In the morning they began to unpack their household goods. Rugs and +bearskins found each its accustomed place upon the floor. His books +went back on the shelves. With magical swiftness the cabin resumed its +old-home atmosphere. And that night Bill stretched himself on the +grizzly hide before the fireplace, and kept his nose in a book until +Hazel, who was in no humor to read, fretted herself into something +approaching a temper. + +"You're about as sociable as a clam," she broke into his absorption at +last. + +He looked up in surprise, then chucked the volume carelessly aside, and +twisted himself around till his head rested in her lap. + +"Vot iss?" he asked cheerfully. "Lonesome? Bored with yourself? +Ain't I here?" + +"Your body is," she retorted. "But your spirit is communing with those +musty old philosophers." + +"Oh, be good--go thou and do likewise," he returned impenitently. "I'm +tickled to death to be home. And I'm fairly book-starved. It's fierce +to be deprived of even a newspaper for twelve months. I'll be a year +getting caught up. Surely you don't feel yourself neglected because I +happen to have my nose stuck in a book?" + +"Of course not!" she denied vigorously. The childish absurdity of her +attitude struck her with sudden force. "Still, I'd like you to talk to +me once in a while." + +"'Of shoes and ships and sealing wax; of cabbages and kings,'" he flung +at her mischievously. "I'll make music; that's better than mere words." + +He picked up his mandolin and tuned the strings. Like most things +which he set out to do, Bill had mastered his instrument, and could +coax out of it all the harmony of which it was capable. He seemed to +know music better than many who pass for musicians. But he broke off +in the midst of a bar. + +"Say, we could get a piano in here next spring," he said. "I just +recollected it. We'll do it." + +Now, this was something that she had many a time audibly wished for. +Yet the prospect aroused no enthusiasm. + +"That'll be nice," she said--but not as she would have said it a year +earlier. Bill's eyes narrowed a trifle, but he still smiled. And +suddenly he stepped around behind her chair, put both hands under her +chin, and tilted her head backward. + +"Ah, you're plumb sick and tired to death of everything, aren't you?" +he said soberly. "You've been up here too long. You sure need a +change. I'll have to take you out and give you the freedom of the +cities, let you dissipate and pink-tea, and rub elbows with the mob for +a while. Then you'll be glad to drift back to this woodsy hiding-place +of ours. When do you want to start?" + +"Why, Bill!" she protested. + +But she realized in a flash that Bill could read her better than she +could read herself. Few of her emotions could remain long hidden from +that keenly observing and mercilessly logical mind. She knew that he +guessed where she stood, and by what paths she had gotten there. Trust +him to know. And it made her very tender toward him that he was so +quick to understand. Most men would have resented. + +"I want to stack a few tons of hay," he went on, disregarding her +exclamation. "I'll need it in the spring, if not this winter. Soon as +that's done we'll hit the high spots. We'll take three or four +thousand dollars, and while it lasts we'll be a couple of--of +high-class tramps. Huh? Does it sound good?" + +She nodded vigorously. + +"High-class tramps," she repeated musingly. + +"That sounds fine." + +"Perk up, then," he wheedled. + +"Bill-boy," she murmured, "you mustn't take me too seriously." + +"I took you for better or for worse," he answered, with a kiss. "I +don't want it to turn out worse. I want you to be contented and happy +here, where I've planned to make our home. I know you love me quite a +lot, little person. Nature fitted us in a good many ways to be mates. +But you've gone through a pretty drastic siege of isolation in this +rather grim country, and I guess it doesn't seem such an alluring place +as it did at first. I don't want you to nurse that feeling until it +becomes chronic. Then we would be out of tune, and it would be good-by +happiness. But I think I know the cure for your malady." + +That was his final word. He deliberately switched the conversation +into other channels. + +In the morning he began his hay cutting. About eleven o'clock he threw +down his scythe and stalked to the house. + +"Put on your hat, and let's go investigate a mystery," said he. "I +heard a cow bawl in the woods a minute ago. A regular barnyard bellow." + +"A cow bawling?" she echoed. "Sure? What would cattle be doing away +up here?" + +"That's what I want to know?" Bill laughed. "I've never seen a cow +north of the Frazer--not this side of the Rockies, anyway." + +They saddled their horses, and rode out in the direction from whence +had arisen the bovine complaint. The sound was not repeated, and Hazel +had begun to chaff Bill about a too-vivid imagination when within a +half mile of the clearing he pulled his horse up short in the middle of +a little meadow. + +"Look!" + +The track of a broad-tired wagon had freshly crushed the thick grass. +Bill squinted at the trail, then his gaze swept the timber beyond. + +"Well!" + +"What is it, Bill?" Hazel asked. + +"Somebody has been cutting timber over there," he enlightened. "I can +see the fresh ax work. Looks like they'd been hauling poles. Let's +follow this track a ways." + +The tiny meadow was fringed on the north by a grove of poplars. Beyond +that lay another clear space of level land, perhaps forty acres in +extent. They broke through the belt of poplars--and pulled up again. + +On one side of the meadow stood a cabin, the fresh-peeled log walls +glaring yellow in the sun, and lifting an earth-covered roof to the +autumn sky. Bill whistled softly. + +"I'll be hanged," he uttered, "if there isn't the cow!" + +Along the west side of the meadow ran a brown streak of sod, and down +one side of this a man guided the handles of a plow drawn by the +strangest yokemates Hazel's eyes had seen for many a day. + +"For goodness' sake!" she exclaimed. + +"That's the true pioneer spirit for you," Bill spoke absently. "He has +bucked his way into the heart of a virgin country, and he's breaking +sod with a mule and a cow. That's adaptation to environment with a +vengeance--and grit." + +"There's a woman, too, Bill. And see--she's carrying a baby!" Hazel +pointed excitedly. "Oh, Bill!" + +"Let's go over." He stirred up his horse. "What did I tell you about +folk that hanker for lots of elbow-room? They're coming." + +The man halted his strangely assorted team to watch them come. The +woman stood a step outside the door, a baby in her arms, another +toddler holding fast to her skirt. A thick-bodied, short, +square-shouldered man was this newcomer, with a round, pleasant face. + +"Hello, neighbor!" Bill greeted. + +The plowman lifted his old felt hat courteously. His face lit up. + +"_Ach_!" said he. "Neighbor. Dot iss a goot vord in diss country vere +dere iss no neighbor. But I am glat to meet you. Vill you come do der +house und rest a v'ile?" + +"Sure!" Bill responded. "But we're neighbors, all right. Did you +notice a cabin about half a mile west of here? That's our place--when +we're at home." + +"So?" The word escaped with the peculiar rising inflection of the +Teuton. "I haf saw dot cabin veil ve come here. But I dink it vass +abandon. Und I pick dis place mitout hope off a neighbor. Id iss goot +lant. Veil, let us to der house go. Id vill rest der mule--und +Gretchen, der cow. Hah!" + +He rolled a blue eye on his incongruous team, and grinned widely. + +"Come," he invited; "mine vife vill be glat." + +They found her a matron of thirty-odd; fresh-cheeked, round-faced like +her husband, typically German, without his accent of the Fatherland. +Hazel at once appropriated the baby. It lay peacefully in her arms, +staring wide-eyed, making soft, gurgly sounds. + +"The little dear!" Hazel murmured. + +"Lauer, our name iss," the man said casually, when they were seated. + +"Wagstaff, mine is," Bill completed the informal introduction. + +"So?" Lauer responded. "Id hass a German sount, dot name, yes." + +"Four or five generations back," Bill answered. "I guess I'm as +American as they make 'em." + +"I am from Bavaria," Lauer told him. "Vill you shmoke? I light mine +bibe--mit your vife's permission." + +"Yes," he continued, stuffing the bowl of his pipe with a stubby +forefinger, "I am from Bavaria. Dere I vass upon a farm brought oop. +I serf in der army my dime. Den Ameriga. Dere I marry my vife, who is +born in Milvaukee. I vork in der big brreweries. Afder dot I learn to +be a carpenter. Now I am a kink, mit a castle all mine own, I am no +more a vage slafe." + +He laughed at his own conceit, a great, roaring bellow that filled the +room. + +"You're on the right track," Bill nodded. "It's a pity more people +don't take the same notion. What do you think of this country, anyway?" + +"It iss goot," Lauer answered briefly, and with unhesitating certainty. +"It iss goot. Vor der boor man it iss--it iss salfation. Mit fife +huntret tollars und hiss two hants he can himself a home make--und a +lifing be sure off." + +Beside Hazel Lauer's wife absently caressed the blond head of her +four-year-old daughter. + +"No, I don't think I'll ever get lonesome," she said. "I'm too glad to +be here. And I've got lots of work and my babies. Of course, it's +natural I'd miss a woman friend running in now and then to chat. But a +person can't have it all. And I'd do anything to have a roof of our +own, and to have it some place where our livin' don't depend on a pay +envelope. Oh, a city's dreadful, I think, when your next meal almost +depends on your man holdin' his job. I've lived in town ever since I +was fifteen. I lost three babies in Milwaukee--hot weather, bad air, +bad milk, bad everything, unless you have plenty of money. Many a time +I've sat and cried, just from thinkin' how bad I wanted a little place +of our own, where there was grass and trees and a piece of ground for a +garden. And I knew we'd never be able to buy it. We couldn't get +ahead enough." + +"Und so," her husband took up the tale, "I hear off diss country, vere +lant can be for noddings got. Und so we scrape und pinch und safe +nickels und dimes for fife year. Und here ve are. All der vay from +Visconsin in der vaigon, yes. Mit two mules. In Ashcroft I buy der +cow, so dot ve haf der fresh milk. Und dot iss lucky. For von mule +iss die on der road. So I am plow oop der lant und haul my vaigon mit +von mule und Gretchen, der cow." + +Hazel had a momentary vision of unrelated hardships by the way, and she +wondered how the man could laugh and his wife smile over it. She knew +the stifling heat of narrow streets in mid-summer, and the hungry +longing for cool, green shade. She had seen something of a city's +poverty. But she knew also the privations of the trail. Two thousand +miles in a wagon! And at the journey's end only a rude cabin of +logs--and years of steady toil. Isolation in a huge and lonely land. +Yet these folk were happy. She wondered briefly if her own viewpoint +were possibly askew. She knew that she could not face such a prospect +except in utter rebellion. Not now. The bleak peaks of the Klappan +rose up before her mind's eye, the picture of five horses dead in the +snow, the wolves that snapped and snarled over their bones. She +shuddered. She was still pondering this when she and Bill dismounted +at home. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE DOLLAR CHASERS + +Granville took them to its bosom with a haste and earnestness that made +Hazel catch her breath. The Marshes took possession of them upon their +arrival, and they were no more than domiciled under the Marsh roof than +all her old friends flocked to call. Tactfully none so much as +mentioned Andrew Bush, nor the five-thousand-dollar legacy--the +disposition of which sum still perplexed that defunct gentleman's +worthy executors. And once more in a genial atmosphere Hazel concluded +to let sleeping dogs lie. Many a time in the past two years she had +looked forward to cutting them all as dead as they had cut her during +that unfortunate period. But once among them, and finding them +willing, nay, anxious, to forget that they had ever harbored unjust +thoughts of her, she took their proffered friendship at its face value. +It was quite gratifying to know that many of them envied her. She +learned from various sources that Bill's fortune loomed big, had grown +by some mysterious process of Granville tattle, until it had reached +the charmed six figures of convention. + +That in itself was sufficient to establish their prestige. In a +society that lived by and for the dollar, and measured most things with +its dollar yardstick, that murmured item opened--indeed, forced +open--many doors to herself and her husband which would otherwise have +remained rigid on their fastenings. It was pleasant to be sought out +and made much of, and it pleased her to think that some of her quondam +friends were genuinely sorry that they had once stood aloof. They +attempted to atone, it would seem. For three weeks they lived in an +atmosphere of teas and dinners and theater parties, a giddy little +whirl that grew daily more attractive, so far as Hazel was concerned. + +There had been changes. Jack Barrow had consoled himself with a bride. +Moreover, he was making good, in the popular phrase, at the real-estate +game. The Marshes, as she had previously known them, had been +tottering on the edge of shabby gentility. But they had come into +money. And as Bill slangily put it, they were using their pile to cut +a lot of social ice. Kitty Brooks' husband was now the head of the +biggest advertising agency in Granville. Hazel was glad of that mild +success. Kitty Brooks was the one person for whom she had always kept +a warm corner in her heart. Kitty had stood stoutly and unequivocally +by her when all the others had viewed her with a dubious eye. Aside +from these there were scores of young people who revolved in their same +old orbits. Two years will upon occasion make profound changes in some +lives, and leave others untouched. But change or no change, she found +herself caught up and carried along on a pleasant tide. + +She was inordinately proud of Bill, when she compared him with the +average Granville male--yet she found herself wishing he would adopt a +little more readily the Granville viewpoint. He fell short of it, or +went beyond it, she could not be sure which; she had an uneasy feeling +sometimes that he looked upon Granville doings and Granville folk with +amused tolerance, not unmixed with contempt. But he attracted +attention. Whenever he was minded to talk he found ready listeners. +And he did not seem to mind being dragged to various functions, +matinees, and the like. He fell naturally into that mode of existence, +no matter that it was in profound contrast to his previous manner of +life, as she knew it. She felt a huge satisfaction in that. Anything +but a well-bred man would have repelled her, and she had recognized +that quality in Bill Wagstaff even when he had carried her bodily into +the wilderness against her explicit desire that memorable time. And he +was now exhibiting an unsuspected polish. She used to wonder amusedly +if he were possibly the same Roaring Bill whom she had with her eyes +seen hammer a man insensible with his fists, who had kept "tough" +frontiersmen warily side-stepping him in Cariboo Meadows. Certainly he +was a many-sided individual. + +Once or twice she conjured up a vision of his getting into some +business there, and utterly foregoing the North--which for her was +already beginning to take on the aspect of a bleak and cheerless region +where there was none of the things which daily whetted her appetite for +luxury, nothing but hardships innumerable--and gold. The gold had been +their reward--a reward well earned, she thought. Still--they had been +wonderfully happy there at the Pine River cabin, she remembered. + +They came home from a theater party late one night. Bill sat down by +their bedroom window, and stared out at the street lights, twin rows of +yellow beads stretching away to a vanishing point in the pitch-black of +a cloudy night. Hazel kicked off her slippers, and gratefully toasted +her silk-stockinged feet at a small coal grate. Fall had come, and +there was a sharp nip to the air. + +"Well, what do you think of it as far as you've gone?" he asked +abruptly. + +"Of what?" she asked, jarred out of meditation upon the play they had +just witnessed. + +"All this." He waved a hand comprehensively. "This giddy swim we've +got into." + +"I think it's fine," she candidly admitted. "I'm enjoying myself. I +like it. Don't you?" + +"As a diversion," he observed thoughtfully, "I don't mind it. These +people are all very affable and pleasant, and they've rather gone out +of their way to entertain us. But, after all, what the dickens does it +amount to? They spend their whole life running in useless circles. I +should think they'd get sick of it. You will." + +"Hardly, Billum," she smiled. "We're merely making up for two years of +isolation. I think we must be remarkable people that we didn't fight +like cats and dogs. For eighteen months, you know, there wasn't a soul +to talk to, and not much to think about except what you could do if you +were some place else." + +"You're acquiring the atmosphere," he remarked--sardonically, she +thought. + +"No; just enjoying myself," she replied lightly. + +"Well, if you really are," he answered slowly, "we may as well settle +here for the winter--and get settled right away. I'm rather weary of +being a guest in another man's house, to tell you the truth." + +"Why, I'd love to stay here all winter," she said. "But I thought you +intended to knock around more or less." + +"But don't you see, you don't particularly care to," he pointed out; +"and it would spoil the fun of going any place for me if you were not +interested. And when it comes to a show-down I'm not aching to be a +bird of passage. One city is pretty much like another to me. You seem +to have acquired a fairly select circle of friends and acquaintances, +and you may as well have your fling right here. We'll take a run over +to New York. I want to get some books and things. Then we'll come +back here and get a house or a flat. I tell you right now," he laughed +not unpleasantly, "I'm going to renig on this society game. You can +play it as hard as you like, until spring. I'll be there with bells on +when it comes to a dance. And I'll go to a show--when a good play +comes along. But I won't mix up with a lot of silly women and equally +silly she-men, any more than is absolutely necessary." + +"Why, Bill!" she exclaimed, aghast. + +"Well, ain't it so?" he defended lazily. "There's Kitty Brooks--she +has certainly got intelligence above the average. That Lorimer girl +has brains superimposed on her artistic temperament, and she uses 'em +to advantage. Practically all the rest that I've met are intellectual +nonentities--strong on looks and clothes and amusing themselves, and +that lets them out. And they have no excuse, because they've had +unlimited advantages. The men divide themselves into two types. One +that chases the dollar, talks business, thinks business, knows nothing +outside of business, and their own special line of business at that; +the other type, like these Arthur fellows, and Dave Allan and T. +Fordham Brown, who go in for afternoon teas and such gentlemanly +pastimes, and whose most strenuous exercise is a game of billiards. +Shucks, there isn't a real man in the lot. Maybe I'll run across some +people who don't take a two-by-four view of life if I stay around here +long enough, but it hasn't happened to me yet. I hope I'm not an +intellectual snob, little person, any more than I'm puffed up over +happening to be a little bigger and stronger than the average man, but +I must say that the habitual conversation of these people gives me a +pain. That platitudinous discussion of the play to-night, for +instance." + +"That _was_ droll." Hazel chuckled at the recollection, and she +recalled the weary look that had once or twice flitted over Bill's face +during that after-theater supper. + +But she herself could see only the humor of it. She was fascinated by +the social niceties and the surroundings of the set she had drifted +into. The little dinners, the impromptu teas, the light chatter and +general atmosphere of luxury more than counterbalanced any other lack. +She wanted only to play, and she was prepared to seize avidly on any +form of pleasure, no matter if in last analysis it were utterly +frivolous. She could smile at the mental vacuity she encountered, and +think nothing of it, if with that vacuity went those material factors +which made for ease and entertainment. The physical side of her was +all alert. Luxury and the mild excitements of a social life that took +nothing seriously, those were the things she craved. For a long time +she had been totally deprived of them. Nor had such unlimited +opportunities ever before been in her grasp. + +"Yes, that was droll," she repeated. + +Bill snorted. + +"Droll? Perhaps," he said. "Blatant ignorance, coupled with a desire +to appear the possessor of culture, is sometimes amusing. But as a +general thing it simply irritates." + +"You're hard to please," she replied. "Can't you enjoy yourself, take +things as they come, without being so critical?" + +He shrugged his shoulders, and remained silent. + +"Well," he said presently, "we'll take that jaunt to New York day after +to-morrow." + +He was still sitting by the window when Hazel was ready to go to bed. +She came back into the room in a trailing silk kimono, and, stealing +softly up behind him, put both hands on his shoulders. + +"What are you thinking so hard about, Billy-boy?" she whispered. + +"I was thinking about Jake Lauer, and wondering how he was making it +go," Bill answered. "I was also picturing to myself how some of these +worthy citizens would mess things up if they had to follow in his +steps. Hang it, I don't know but we'd be better off if we were pegging +away for a foothold somewhere, like old Jake." + +"If we had to do that," she argued, "I suppose we would, and manage to +get along. But since we don't have to, why wish for it? Money makes +things pleasanter." + +"If money meant that we would be compelled to lead the sort of +existence most of these people do," he retorted, "I'd take measures to +be broke as soon as possible. What the deuce is there to it? The +women get up in the morning, spend the forenoon fixing themselves up to +take in some innocuous gabblefest after luncheon. Then they get into +their war paint for dinner, and after dinner rush madly off to some +other festive stunt. Swell rags and a giddy round. If it were just +fun, it would be all right. But it's the serious business of life with +them. And the men are in the same boat. All of 'em collectively don't +amount to a pinch of snuff. This thing that they call business is +mostly gambling with what somebody else has sweated to produce. +They're a soft-handed, soft-bodied lot of incompetent egotists, if you +ask me. Any of 'em would lick your boots in a genteel sort of way if +there was money in it; and they'd just as cheerfully chisel their best +friend out of his last dollar, if it could be done in a business way. +They haven't even the saving grace of physical hardihood." + +"You're awful!" Hazel commented. + +Bill snorted again. + +"To-morrow, you advise our hostess that we're traveling," he +instructed. "When we come back we'll make headquarters at a hotel +until we locate a place of our own--if you are sure you want to winter +here." + +Her mind was quite made up to spend the winter there, and she frankly +said so--provided he had no other choice. They had to winter +somewhere. They had set out to spend a few months in pleasant +idleness. They could well afford that. And, unless he had other plans +definitely formed, was not Granville as good as any place? Was it not +better, seeing that they did know some one there? It was big enough to +afford practically all the advantages of any city. + +"Oh, yes, I suppose so. All right; we'll winter here," Bill +acquiesced. "That's settled." + +And, as was his habit when he had come to a similar conclusion, he +refused to talk further on that subject, but fell to speculating idly +on New York. In which he was presently aided and abetted by Hazel, who +had never invaded Manhattan, nor, for that matter, any of the big +Atlantic cities. She had grown up in Granville, with but brief +journeys to near-by points. And Granville could scarcely be classed as +a metropolis. It numbered a trifle over three hundred thousand souls. +Bill had termed it "provincial." But it meant more to her than any +other place in the East, by virtue of old associations and more recent +acquaintance. One must have a pivotal point of such a sort, just as +one cannot forego the possession of a nationality. + +New York, she was constrained to admit, rather overwhelmed her. She +traversed Broadway and other world-known arteries, and felt a trifle +dubious amid the unceasing crush. Bill piloted her to famous cafes, +and to equally famous theaters. She made sundry purchases in +magnificent shops. The huge conglomeration of sights and sounds made +an unforgettable impression upon her. She sensed keenly the colossal +magnitude of it all. But she felt a distinct wave of relief when they +were Granville bound once more. + +In a week they were settled comfortably in a domicile of their +own--five rooms in an up-to-date apartment house. And since the social +demands on Mrs. William Wagstaff's time grew apace, a capable maid and +a cook were added to the Wagstaff establishment. Thus she was relieved +of the onus of housework. Her time was wholly her own, at her own +disposal or Bill's, as she elected. + +But by imperceptible degrees they came to take diverse roads in the +swirl of life which had caught them up. There were so many little +woman affairs where a man was superfluous. There were others which +Bill flatly refused to attend. "Hen parties," he dubbed them. More +and more he remained at home with his books. Invariably he read +through the daytime, and unless to take Hazel for a walk or a drive, or +some simple pleasure which they could indulge in by themselves, he +would not budge. If it were night, and a dance was to the fore, he +would dress and go gladly. At such, and upon certain occasions when a +certain little group would take supper at some cafe, he was apparently +in his element. But there was always a back fire if Hazel managed to +persuade him to attend anything in the nature of a formal affair. He +drew the line at what he defined as social tommyrot, and he drew it +more and more sharply. + +Sometimes Hazel caught herself wondering if they were getting as much +out of the holiday as they should have gotten, as they had planned to +get when they were struggling through that interminable winter. _She_ +was. But not Bill. And while she wished that he could get the same +satisfaction out of his surroundings and opportunities as she conceived +herself to be getting, she often grew impatient with his sardonic, +tolerant contempt toward the particular set she mostly consorted with. +If she ventured to give a tea, he fled the house as if from the plague. +He made acquaintances of his own, men from God only knew where, +individuals who occasionally filled the dainty apartment with +malodorous tobacco fumes, and who would cheerfully sit up all night +discoursing earnestly on any subject under the sun. But so long as +Bill found Granville habitable she did not mind. + +Above all, as the winter and the winter gayety set in together with +equal vigor, she thought with greater reluctance of the ultimate return +to that hushed, deep-forested area that surrounded the cabin. + +She wished fervently that Bill would take up some business that would +keep him in touch with civilization. He had the capital, she +considered, and there was no question of his ability. Her faith in his +power to encompass whatever he set about was strong. Other men, less +gifted, had acquired wealth, power, even a measure of fame, from a less +auspicious beginning. Why not he? + +It seemed absurd to bury one's self in an uninhabited waste, when life +held forth so much to be grasped. Her friends told her so--thus +confirming her own judgment. But she could never quite bring herself +to put it in so many words to Bill. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +A BUSINESS PROPOSITION + +The cycle of weeks brought them to January. They had dropped into +something of a routine in their daily lives. Bill's interest and +participation in social affairs became negligible. Of Hazel's circle +he classed some half dozen people as desirable acquaintances, and saw +more or less of them--Kitty Brooks and her husband; Vesta Lorimer, a +keen-witted young woman upon whom nature had bestowed a double portion +of physical attractiveness and a talent akin to genius for the painting +of miniatures; her Brother Paul, who was the silent partner in a +brokerage firm; Doctor Hart, a silent, grim-visaged physician, whose +vivacious wife was one of Hazel's new intimates. Of that group Bill +was always a willing member. The others he met courteously when he was +compelled to meet them; otherwise he passed them up entirely. + +When he was not absorbed in a book or magazine, he spent his time in +some downtown haunt, having acquired membership in a club as a +concession to their manner of life. Once he came home with flushed +face and overbright eyes, radiating an odor of whisky. Hazel had never +seen him drink to excess. She was correspondingly shocked, and took no +pains to hide her feelings. But Bill was blandly undisturbed. + +"You don't need to look so horrified," he drawled. "I won't beat you +up nor wreck the furniture. Inadvertently took a few too many, that's +all. Nothing else to do, anyhow. Your friend Brooks' Carlton Club is +as barren a place as one of your tea fights. They don't do anything +much but sit around and drink Scotch and soda, and talk about the +market. I'm drunk, and glad of it. If I were in Cariboo Meadows, +now," he confided owlishly, "I'd have some fun with the natives. You +can't turn yourself loose here. It's too blame civilized and proper. +I had half a notion to lick a Johnnie or two, just for sport, and then +I thought probably they'd have me up for assault and battery. Just +recollected our social reputation--long may she wave--in time." + +"_Your_ reputation certainly won't be unblemished if any one saw you +come in in that condition," she cried, in angry mortification. "Surely +you could find something better to do than to get drunk." + +"I'm going straight to bed, little person," he returned. "Scold not, +nor fret. William will be himself again ere yet the morrow's sun shall +clear the horizon. Let us avoid recrimination. The tongue is, or +would seem to be, the most vital weapon of modern society. Therefore +let us leave the trenchant blade quiescent in its scabbard. _I'd_ +rather settle a dispute with my fists, or even a gun. Good night." + +He made his unsteady way to their extra bedroom, and he was still there +with the door locked when Hazel returned from a card party at the +Krones'. It was the first night they had spent apart since their +marriage, and Hazel was inclined to be huffed when he looked in before +breakfast, dressed, shaved, and smiling, as if he had never had even a +bowing acquaintance with John Barleycorn. But Bill refused to take her +indignation seriously, and it died for lack of fuel. + +A week or so later he became suddenly and unexpectedly active. He left +the house as soon as his breakfast was eaten, and he did not come home +to luncheon--a circumstance which irritated Hazel, since it was one of +those rare days when she herself lunched at home. Late in the +afternoon he telephoned briefly that he would dine downtown. And when +he did return, at nine or thereabouts in the evening, he clamped a +cigar between his teeth, and fell to work covering a sheet of paper +with interminable rows of figures. + +Hazel had worried over the possibility of his having had another tilt +with the Scotch and sodas. He relieved her of that fear, and she +restrained her curiosity until boredom seized her. The silence and the +scratching of his pen began to grate on her nerves. + +"What is all the clerical work about?" she inquired. "Reckoning your +assets and liabilities?" + +Bill smiled and pushed aside the paper. + +"I'm going to promote a mining company," he told her, quite casually. +"It has been put up to me as a business proposition--and I've got to +the stage where I have to do _something_, or I'll sure have the +Willies." + +She overlooked the latter statement; it conveyed no special +significance at the time. But his first statement opened up +possibilities such as of late she had sincerely hoped would come to +pass, and she was all interest. + +"Promote a mining company?" she repeated. "That sounds extremely +businesslike. How--when--where?" + +"Now--here in Granville," he replied. "The how is largely Paul +Lorimer's idea. You see," he continued, warming up a bit to the +subject, "when I was prospecting that creek where we made the clean-up +last summer, I ran across a well-defined quartz lead. I packed out a +few samples in my pockets, and I happened to show them as well as one +or two of the nuggets to some of these fellows at the club a while +back. Lorimer took a piece of the quartz and had it assayed. It looms +up as something pretty big. So he and Brooks and a couple of other +fellows want me to go ahead and organize and locate a group of claims +in there. Twenty or thirty thousand dollars capital might make 'em all +rich. Of course, the placer end of it will be the big thing while the +lode is being developed. It should pay well from the start. Getting +the start is easy. As a matter of fact, you could sell any old wildcat +that has the magic of gold about it. Men seem to get the fever as soon +as they finger the real yellow stuff. These fellows I've talked to are +dead anxious to get in." + +"But"--her knowledge of business methods suggested a difficulty--"you +can't sell stock in a business that has no real foundation--yet. Don't +you have to locate those claims first?" + +"Wise old head; you have the idea, all right." He smiled. "But this +is not a stock-jobbing proposition. I wouldn't be in on it if it were, +believe me. It's to be a corporation, where not to exceed six men will +own all the stock that's issued. And so far as the claims are +concerned, I've got Whitey Lewis located in Fort George, and I've been +burning the wires and spending a bundle of real money getting him +grub-staked. He has got four men besides himself all ready to hit the +trail as soon as I give the word." + +"You won't have to go?" she put in quickly. + +"No," he murmured. "It isn't necessary, at this particular stage of +the game. But I wouldn't mind popping a whip over a good string of +dogs, just the same." + +"B-r-r-r!" she shivered involuntarily. "Four hundred miles across that +deep snow, through that steady, flesh-searing cold. I don't envy them +the journey." + +Bill relapsed into unsmiling silence, sprawling listless in his chair, +staring absently at the rug, as if he had lost all interest in the +matter. + +"If you stay here and manage this end of it," she pursued lightly, "I +suppose you'll have an office downtown." + +"I suppose so," he returned laconically. + +She came over and stood by him, playfully rumpling his brown hair with +her fingers. + +"I'm glad you've found something to loose that pent-up energy of yours +on, Billy-boy," she said. "You'll make a success of it, I know. I +don't see why you shouldn't make a success of any kind of business. +But I didn't think you'd ever tackle business. You have such peculiar +views about business and business practice." + +"I despise the ordinary business ethic," he returned sharply. "It's a +get-something-for-nothing proposition all the way through; it is based +on exploiting the other fellow in one form or another. I refuse to +exploit my fellows along the accepted lines--or any lines. I don't +have to; there are too many other ways of making a living open to me. +I don't care to live fat and make some one else foot the bill. But I +can exploit the resources of nature. And that is my plan. If we make +money it won't be filched by a complex process from the other fellow's +pockets; it won't be wealth created by shearing lambs in the market, by +sweatshop labor, or adulterated food, or exorbitant rental of filthy +tenements. And I have no illusions about the men I'm dealing with. If +they undertake to make a get-rich-quick scheme of it I'll knock the +whole business in the head. I'm not overly anxious to get into it with +them. But it promises action of some sort--and I have to do something +till spring." + +In the spring! That brief phrase set Hazel to sober thinking. With +April or May Bill would spread his wings for the North. There would be +no more staying him than the flight of the wild goose to the reedy +nesting grounds could be stayed. Well, a summer in the North would not +be so bad, she reflected. But she hated to think of the isolation. It +grieved her to contemplate exchanging her beautifully furnished +apartment for a log cabin in the woods. There would be a dreary +relapse into monotony after months of association with clever people, +the swift succession of brilliant little functions. It all delighted +her; she responded to her present surroundings as naturally as a grain +of wheat responds to the germinating influences of warmth and moisture. +It did not occur to her that saving Bill Wagstaff's advent into her +life she might have been denied all this. Indeed she felt a trifle +resentful that he should prefer the forested solitudes to the pleasant +social byways of Granville. + +Still she had hopes. If he plunged into business associations with +Jimmie Brooks and Paul Lorimer and others of that group, there was no +telling what might happen. His interests might become permanently +identified with Granville. She loved her big, wide-shouldered man, +anyway. So she continued to playfully rumple his hair and kept her +thoughts to herself. + +Bill informed her from time to time as to the progress of his venture. +Brooks and Lorimer put him in touch with two others who were ready to +chance money on the strength of Bill's statements. The company was +duly incorporated, with an authorized capital of one hundred thousand +dollars, five thousand dollars' worth of stock being taken out by each +on a cash basis--the remaining seventy-five thousand lying in the +company treasury, to be held or sold for development purposes as the +five saw fit when work began to show what the claims were capable of +producing. + +Whitey Lewis set out. Bill stuck a map on their living-room wall and +pointed off each day's journey with a pin. Hazel sometimes studied the +map, and pitied them. So many miles daily in a dreary waste of snow; +nights when the frost thrust its keen-pointed lances into their tired +bodies; food cooked with numbed fingers; the dismal howling of wolves; +white frost and clinging icicles upon their beards as they trudged +across trackless areas; and over all that awesome hush which she had +learned to dread--breathless, brooding silence. Gold madness or trail +madness, or simply adventurous unrest? She could not say. She knew +only that a certain type of man found pleasure in such mad +undertakings, bucked hard trails and plunged headlong into vast +solitudes, and permitted no hardship nor danger to turn him back. + +Bill was tinged with that madness for unbeaten trails. But surely when +a man mated, and had a home and all that makes home desirable, he +should forsake the old ways? Once when she found him studying the map, +traversing a route with his forefinger and muttering to himself, she +had a quick catch at her heart--as if hers were already poised to go. +And she could not follow him. Once she had thought to do that, and +gloried in the prospect. But his trail, his wilderness trail, and his +trail gait, were not for any woman to follow. It was too big a job for +any woman. And she could not let him go alone. He might never come +back. + +Not so long since she and Kitty Brooks had been discussing a certain +couple who had separated. Vesta Lorimer sat by, listening. + +"How could they help but fail in mutual flight?" the Lorimer girl had +demanded. "An eagle mated to a domestic fowl!" + +And, watching Bill stare at the map, his body there but the soul of him +tramping the wild woods, she recalled Vesta Lorimer's characterization +of that other pair. Surely this man of hers was of the eagle brood. +But there, in her mind, the simile ended. + +In early March came a telegram from Whitey Lewis saying that he had +staked the claims, both placer and lode; that he was bound out by the +Telegraph Trail to file at Hazleton. Bill showed her the +message--wired from Station Six. + +"I wish I could have been in on it--that was some trip," he said--and +there was a trace of discontent in his tone. "I don't fancy somebody +else pawing my chestnuts out of the coals for me. It was sure a man's +job to cross the Klappan in the dead of winter." + +The filing completed, there was ample work in the way of getting out +and whipsawing timber to keep the five men busy till spring--the five +who were on the ground. Lewis sent word that thirty feet of snow lay +in the gold-bearing branch. And that was the last they heard from him. +He was a performer, Bill said, not a correspondent. + +So in Granville the affairs of the Free Gold Mining Company remained at +a standstill until the spring floods should peel off the winter blanket +of the North. Hazel was fully occupied, and Bill dwelt largely with +his books, or sketched and figured on operations at the claims. Their +domestic affairs moved with the smoothness of a perfectly balanced +machine. To the very uttermost Hazel enjoyed the well-appointed +orderliness of it all, the unruffled placidity of an existence where +the unexpected, the disagreeable, the uncouth, was wholly eliminated, +where all the strange shifts and struggles of her two years beyond the +Rockies were altogether absent and impossible. Bill's views he kept +largely to himself. And Hazel began to nurse the idea that he was +looking upon civilization with a kindlier eye. + +Ultimately, spring overspread the eastern provinces. And when the +snows of winter successively gave way to muddy streets and then to +clean pavements in the city of Granville, a new gilt sign was lettered +across the windows of the brokerage office in which Paul Lorimer was +housed. + + + FREE GOLD MINING COMPANY + + P. H. Lorimer, Pres. J. L. Brooks, Sec.-Treas. + + William Wagstaff, Manager. + + +So it ran. Bill was commissioned in the army of business at last. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +A BUSINESS JOURNEY + +"I have to go to the Klappan," Bill apprised his wife one evening. +"Want to come along?" + +Hazel hesitated. Her first instinctive feeling was one of reluctance +to retrace that nerve-trying trail. But neither did she wish to be +separated from him. + +"I see you don't," he observed dryly. "Well, I can't say that I blame +you. It's a stiff trip. If your wind and muscle are in as poor shape +as mine, I guess it would do you up--the effort would be greater than +any possible pleasure." + +"I'm sorry I can't feel any enthusiasm for such a journey," she +remarked candidly. "I could go as far as the coast with you, and meet +you there when you come out. How long do you expect to be in there?" + +"I don't know exactly," he replied. "I'm not going in from the coast, +though. I'm taking the Ashcroft-Fort George Trail. I have to take in +a pack train and more men and get work started on a decent scale." + +"But you won't have to stay there all summer and oversee the work, will +you?" she inquired anxiously. + +"I should," he said. + +For a second or two he drummed on the table top. + +"I should do that. It's what I had in mind when I started this thing," +he said wistfully. "I thought we'd go in this spring and rush things +through the good weather, and come out ahead of the snow. We could +stay a while at the ranch, and break up the winter with a jaunt here or +some place." + +"But is there any real necessity for you to stay on the ground?" She +pursued her own line of thought. "I should think an undertaking of +this size would justify hiring an expert to take charge of the actual +mining operations. Won't you have this end of it to look after?" + +"Lorimer and Brooks are eminently capable of upholding the dignity and +importance of that sign they've got smeared across the windows +downtown," he observed curtly. "The chief labor of the office they've +set up will be to divide the proceeds. The work will be done and the +money made in the Klappan Range. You sabe that, don't you?" + +"I'm not stupid," she pouted. + +"I know you're not, little person," he said quietly. "But you've +changed a heap in the last few months. You don't seem to be my pal any +more. You've fallen in love with this butterfly life. You appear to +like me just as much as ever, but if you could you'd sentence me to +this kid-glove existence for the rest of my natural life. Great +Caesar's ghost!" he burst out. "I've laid around like a well-fed +poodle for seven months. And look at me--I'm mush! Ten miles with a +sixty-pound pack would make my tongue hang out. I'm thick-winded, and +twenty pounds over-weight--and you talk calmly about my settling down +to office work!" + +His semi-indignation, curiously enough, affected Hazel as being +altogether humorous. She had a smile-compelling vision of that +straight, lean-limbed, powerful body developing a protuberant waistline +and a double chin. That was really funny, so far-fetched did it seem. +And she laughed. Bill froze into rigid silence. + +"I'm going to-morrow," he said suddenly. "I think, on the whole, it'll +be just as well if you don't go. Stay here and enjoy yourself. I'll +transfer some more money to your account. I think I'll drop down to +the club." + +She followed him out into the hall, and, as he wriggled into his coat, +she had an impulse to throw her arms around his neck and declare, in +all sincerity, that she would go to the Klappan or to the north pole or +any place on earth with him, if he wanted her. But by some peculiar +feminine reasoning she reflected in the same instant that if Bill were +away from her in a few weeks he would be all the more glad to get back. +That closed her mouth. She felt too secure in his affection to believe +it could be otherwise. And then she would cheerfully capitulate and go +back with him to his beloved North, to the Klappan or the ranch or +wherever he chose. It was not wise to be too meek or obedient where a +husband was concerned. That was another mite of wisdom she had +garnered from the wives of her circle. + +So she kissed Bill good-by at the station next day with perfect good +humor and no parting emotion of any particular keenness. And if he +were a trifle sober he showed no sign of resentment, nor uttered any +futile wishes that she could accompany him. + +"So long," he said from the car steps. "I'll keep in touch--all I can." + +Then he was gone. + +Somehow, his absence made less difference than Hazel had anticipated. +She had secretly expected to be very lonely at first. And she was not. +She began to realize that, unconsciously, they had of late so arranged +their manner of life that separation was a question of degree rather +than kind. It seemed that she could never quite forego the impression +that Bill was near at hand. She always thought of him as downtown or +in the living-room, with his feet up on the mantel and a cigar in his +mouth. Even when in her hand she held a telegram dated at a point five +hundred or a thousand miles or double that distance away she did not +experience the feeling of complete bodily absence. She always felt as +if he were near. Only at night, when there was no long arm to pillow +her head, no good-night kiss as she dozed into slumber, she missed him, +realized that he was far away. Even when the days marched past, +mustering themselves in weekly and monthly platoons and Bill still +remained in the Klappan, she experienced no dreary leadenness of soul. +Her time passed pleasantly enough. + +Early in June came a brief wire from Station Six. Three weeks later +the Free Gold Mining Company set up a mild ripple of excitement along +Broad Street by exhibiting in their office window a forty-pound heap of +coarse gold; raw, yellow gold, just as it had come from the sluice. +Every day knots of men stood gazing at the treasure. The Granville +papers devoted sundry columns to this remarkably successful enterprise +of its local business men. Bill had forwarded the first clean-up. + +And close on the heels of this--ten days later, to be exact--he came +home. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE BOMB + +"You great bear," Hazel laughed, in the shelter of his encircling arms. +"My, it's good to see you again." + +She pushed herself back a little and surveyed him admiringly, with a +gratified sense of proprietorship. The cheeks of him were tanned to a +healthy brown, his eyes clear and shining. The offending flesh had +fallen away on the strenuous paths of the Klappan. He radiated +boundless vitality, strength, alertness, that perfect co-ordination of +mind and body that is bred of faring resourcefully along rude ways. +Few of his type trod the streets of Granville. It was a product solely +of the outer places. And for the time being the old, vivid emotion +surged strong within her. She thrilled at the touch of his hand, was +content to lay her head on his shoulder and forget everything in the +joy of his physical nearness. But the maid announced dinner, and her +man must be fed. He had missed luncheon on the train, he told her, by +reason of an absorbing game of whist. + +"Come, then," said she. "You must be starving." + +They elected to spend the evening quietly at home, as they used to do. +To Hazel it seemed quite like old times. Bill told her of the Klappan +country, and their prospects at the mine. + +"It's going to be a mighty big thing," he declared. + +"I'm so glad," said Hazel. + +"We've got a group of ten claims. Whitey Lewis and the original +stakers hold an interest in their claims. I, acting as agent for these +other fellows in the company, staked five more. I took in eight more +men--and, believe me, things were humming when I left. Lewis is a +great rustler. He had out lots of timber, and we put in a wing dam +three hundred feet long, so she can flood and be darned; they'll keep +the sluice working just the same. And that quartz lead will justify a +fifty-thousand-dollar mill. So I'm told by an expert I took in to look +it over. And, say, I went in by the ranch. Old Jake has a fine +garden. He's still pegging away with the mule 'und Gretchen, der cow.' +I offered him a chance to make a fat little stake at the mine, but he +didn't want to leave the ranch. Great old feller, Jake. Something of +a philosopher in his way. Pretty wise old head. He'll make good, all +right." + +In the morning, Bill ate his breakfast and started downtown. + +"That's the dickens of being a business man," he complained to Hazel, +in the hallway. "It rides a man, once it gets hold of him. I'd rather +get a machine and go joy riding with you than anything else. But I +have to go and make a long-winded report; and I suppose those fellows +will want to talk gold by the yard. Adios, little person. I'll get +out for lunch, business or no business." + +Eleven-thirty brought him home, preoccupied and frowning. And he +carried his frown and his preoccupation to the table. + +"Whatever is the matter, Bill?" Hazel anxiously inquired. + +"Oh, I've got a nasty hunch that there's a nigger in the woodpile," he +replied. + +"What woodpile?" she asked. + +"I'll tell you more about it to-night," he said bluntly. "I'm going to +pry something loose this afternoon or know the reason why." + +"Is something the matter about the mine?" she persisted. + +"No," he answered grimly. "There's nothing the matter with the mine. +It's the mining company." + +And that was all he vouchsafed. He finished his luncheon and left the +house. He was scarcely out of sight when Jimmie Brooks' runabout drew +up at the curb. A half minute later he was ushered into the +living-room. + +"Bill in?" was his first query. + +"No, he left just a few minutes ago," Hazel told him. + +Mr. Brooks, a short, heavy-set, neatly dressed gentleman, whose rather +weak blue eyes loomed preternaturally large and protuberant behind +pince-nez that straddled an insignificant snub nose, took off his +glasses and twiddled them in his white, well-kept fingers. + +"Ah, too bad!" he murmured. "Thought I'd catch him. + +"By the way," he continued, after a pause, "you--ah--well, frankly, I +have reason to believe that you have a good deal of influence with your +husband in business matters, Mrs. Wagstaff. Kitty says so, and she +don't make mistakes very often in sizing up a situation." + +"Well, I don't know; perhaps I have." Hazel smiled noncommittally. +She wondered what had led Kitty Brooks to that conclusion. "Why?" + +"Well--ah--you see," he began rather lamely. "The fact is--I hope +you'll regard this as strictly confidential, Mrs. Wagstaff. I wouldn't +want Bill to think I, or any of us, was trying to bring pressure on +him. But the fact is, Bill's got a mistaken impression about the way +we're conducting the financial end of this mining proposition. You +understand? Very able man, your husband, but headstrong as the deuce. +I'm afraid--to speak frankly--he'll create a lot of unpleasantness. +Might disrupt the company, in fact, if he sticks to the position he +took this morning. Thought I'd run in and talk it over with him. +Fellow's generally in a good humor, you know, when he's lunched +comfortably at home." + +"I'm quite in the dark," Hazel confessed. "Bill seemed a trifle put +out about something. He didn't say what it was about." + +"Shall I explain?" Mr. Brooks suggested. "You'd understand--and you +might be able to help. I don't as a rule believe in bringing business +into the home, but this bothers me. I hate to see a good thing go +wrong." + +"Explain, by all means," Hazel promptly replied. "If I can help, I'll +be glad to." + +"Thank you." Mr. Brooks polished his glasses industriously for a +second and replaced them with painstaking exactitude. "Now--ah--this +is the situation: When the company was formed, five of us, including +your husband, took up enough stock to finance the preliminary work of +the undertaking. The remaining stock, seventy-five thousand dollars in +amount, was left in the treasury, to be held or put on the market as +the situation warranted. Bill was quite conservative in his first +statements concerning the property, and we all felt inclined to go +slow. But when Bill got out there on the ground and the thing began to +pay enormously right from the beginning, we--that is, the four of us +here, decided we ought to enlarge our scope. With the first clean-up, +Bill forwarded facts and figures to show that we had a property far +beyond our greatest expectations. And, of course, we saw at once that +the thing was ridiculously undercapitalized. By putting the balance of +the stock on the market, we could secure funds to work on a much larger +scale. Why, this first shipment of gold is equal to an annual dividend +of ten per cent on four hundred thousand dollars capital. It's +immense, for six weeks' work. + +"So we held a meeting and authorized the secretary to sell stock. +Naturally, your husband wasn't cognizant of this move, for the simple +reason that there was no way of reaching him--and his interests were +thoroughly protected, anyway. The stock was listed on Change. A good +bit was disposed of privately. We now have a large fund in the +treasury. It's a cinch. We've got the property, and it's rich enough +to pay dividends on a million. The decision of the stockholders is +unanimously for enlargement of the capital stock. The quicker we get +that property to its maximum output the more we make, you see. There's +a fine vein of quartz to develop, expensive machinery to install. It's +no more than fair that these outsiders who are clamoring to get aboard +should pay their share of the expense of organization and promotion. +You understand? You follow me?" + +"Certainly," Hazel answered. "But what is the difficulty with Bill?" + +Mr. Brooks once more had recourse to polishing his pince-nez. + +"Bill is opposed to the whole plan," he said, pursing up his lips with +evident disapproval of Bill Wagstaff and all his works. "He seems to +feel that we should not have taken this step. He declares that no more +stock must be sold; that there must be no enlargement of capital. In +fact, that we must peg along in the little one-horse way we started. +And that would be a shame. We could make the Free Gold Mining Company +the biggest thing on the map, and put ourselves all on Easy Street." + +He spread his hands in a gesture of real regret. + +"Bill's a fine fellow," he said, "and one of my best friends. But he's +a hard man to do business with. He takes a very peculiar view of the +matter. I'm afraid he'll queer the company if he stirs up trouble over +this. That's why I hope you'll use whatever influence you have, to +induce him to withdraw his opposition." + +"But," Hazel murmured, in some perplexity, "from what little I know of +corporations, I don't see how he can set up any difficulty. If a +majority of the stock-holders decide to do anything, that settles it, +doesn't it? Bill is a minority of one, from what you say. And I don't +see what difference his objections make, anyway. How can he stop you +from taking any line of action whatever?" + +"Oh, not that at all," Brooks hastily assured. "Of course, we can +outvote him, and put it through. But we want him with us, don't you +see? We've a high opinion of his ability. He's the sort of man who +gets results; practical, you know; knows mining to a T. Only he shies +at our financial method. And if he began any foolish litigation, or +silly rumors got started about trouble among the company officers, it's +bound to hurt the stock. It's all right, I assure you. We're not +foisting a wildcat on the market. We've got the goods. Bill admits +that. It's the regular method, not only legitimate, but good finance. +Every dollar's worth of stock sold has the value behind it. +Distributes the risk a little more, that's all, and gives the company a +fund to operate successfully. + +"If Bill mentions it, you might suggest that he look into the matter a +little more fully before he takes any definite action," Brooks +concluded, rising. "I must get down to the office. It's his own +interests I'm thinking of, as much as my own. Of course, he couldn't +block a reorganization--but we want to satisfy him in every particular, +and, at the same time, carry out these plans. It's a big thing for all +of us. A big thing, I assure you." + +He rolled away in his car, and Hazel watched him from the window, a +trifle puzzled. She recalled Bill's remark at luncheon. In the light +of Brooks' explanation, she could see nothing wrong. On the other +hand, she knew Bill Wagstaff was not prone to jump at rash conclusions. +It was largely his habit to give others the benefit of the doubt. If +he objected to certain manipulations of the Free Gold Mining Company, +his objection was likely to be based on substantial grounds. But then, +as Brooks had observed, or, rather, inferred, Bill was not exactly an +expert on finance, and this new deal savored of pure finance--a term +which she had heard Bill scoff at more than once. At any rate, she +hoped nothing disagreeable would come of it. + +So she put the whole matter out of her mind. She had an engagement +with a dressmaker, and an invitation to afternoon tea following on +that. She dressed, and went whole-heartedly about her own affairs. + +Dinner time was drawing close when she returned home. She sat down by +a window that overlooked the street to watch for Bill. As a general +thing he was promptness personified, and since he was but twenty-four +hours returned from a three months' absence, she felt that he would not +linger--and Granville's business normally ceased at five o'clock. + +Six passed. The half-hour chime struck on the mantel clock. Hazel +grew impatient, petulant, aggrieved. Dinner would be served in twenty +minutes. Still there was no sign of him. And for lack of other +occupation she went into the hall and got the evening paper, which the +carrier had just delivered. + +A staring headline on the front page stiffened her to scandalized +attention. Straight across the tops of two columns it ran, a facetious +caption: + +WILLIAM WAGSTAFF IS A BEAR + + +Under that the subhead: + +Husky Mining Man Tumbles Prices and Brokers. Whips Four men in Broad +Street Office. Slugs Another on Change. His Mighty Fists Subdue +Society's Finest. Finally Lands in Jail. + + +The body of the article Hazel read in what a sob sister would describe +as a state of mingled emotions. + + +William Wagstaff is a mining gentleman from the northern wilds of +British Columbia. He is a big man, a natural-born fighter. To prove +this he inflicted a black eye and a split lip on Paul Lorimer, a broken +nose and sundry bruises on James L. Brooks. Also Allen T. Bray and +Edward Gurney Parkinson suffered certain contusions in the melee. The +fracas occurred in the office of the Free Gold Mining Company, 1546 +Broad Street, at three-thirty this afternoon. While hammering the +brokers a police officer arrived on the scene and Wagstaff was duly +escorted to the city bastile. Prior to the general encounter in the +Broad Street office Wagstaff walked into the Stock Exchange, and made +statements about the Free Gold Mining Company which set all the brokers +by the ears. Lorimer was on the floor, and received his discolored +optic there. + +Lorimer is a partner in the brokerage firm of Bray, Parkinson & Co., +and is president of the Free Gold Mining Company. Brooks is manager of +the Acme Advertisers, and secretary of Free Gold. Bray and Parkinson +are stockholders, and Wagstaff is a stockholder and also manager of the +Free Gold properties in B. C. All are well known about town. + +A reporter was present when Wagstaff walked on the floor of the Stock +Exchange. He strode up to the post where Lorimer was transacting +business. + +"I serve notice on you right now," he said loudly and angrily, "that if +you sell another dollar's worth of Free Gold stock, I'll put you out of +business." + +Lorimer appeared to lose his temper. Some word was passed which +further incensed Wagstaff. He smote the broker and the broker smote +the floor. Wagstaff's punch would do credit to a champion pugilist, +from the execution it wrought. He immediately left the Stock Exchange, +and not long afterward Broad Street was electrified by sounds of combat +in the Free Gold office. It is conceded that Wagstaff had the +situation and his three opponents well in hand when the cop arrived. + +None of the men concerned would discuss the matter. From the remarks +dropped by Wagstaff, however, it appears that the policy of marketing +Free Gold stock was inaugurated without his knowledge or consent. + +Be that as it may, all sorts of rumors are in circulation, and Free +Gold stock, which has been sold during the past week as high as a +dollar forty, found few takers at par when Change closed. There has +been a considerable speculative movement in the stock, and the +speculators are beginning to wonder if there is a screw loose in the +company affairs. + +Wagstaff's case will come up to-morrow forenoon. A charge of +disturbing the peace was placed against him. He gave a cash bond and +was at once released. When the hearing comes some of the parties to +the affair may perchance divulge what lay at the bottom of the row. + +Any fine within the power of the court to impose is a mere bagatelle, +compared to the distinction of scientifically man-handling four of +society's finest in one afternoon. As one bystander remarked in the +classic phraseology of the street: + +"Wagstaff's a bear!" + +The brokers concerned might consider this to have a double meaning. + + +Hazel dropped the paper, mortified and wrathful. The city jail seemed +the very Pit itself to her. And the lurid publicity, the lifted +eyebrows of her friends, maddened her in prospect. Plain street +brawling, such as one might expect from a cabman or a taxi mahout, not +from a man like her husband. She involuntarily assigned the blame to +him. Not for the cause--the cause was of no importance whatever to +her--but for the act itself. Their best friends! She could hardly +realize it. Jimmie Brooks, jovial Jimmie, with a broken nose and +sundry bruises! And Paul Lorimer, distinguished Paul, who had the +courtly bearing which was the despair of his fellows, and the manner of +a dozen generations of culture wherewith to charm the women of his +acquaintance. He with a black eye and a split lip! So the paper +stated. It was vulgar. Brutal! The act of a cave man. + +She was on the verge of tears. + +And just at that moment the door opened, and in walked Bill. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE NOTE DISCORDANT + +Bill had divested himself of the scowl. He smiled as a man who has +solved some knotty problem to his entire satisfaction. Moreover, he +bore no mark of conflict, none of the conventional scars of a +rough-and-tumble fight. His clothing was in perfect order, his tie and +collar properly arranged, as a gentleman's tie and collar should be. +For a moment Hazel found herself believing the _Herald_ story a pure +canard. But as he walked across the room her searching gaze discovered +that the knuckles of both his hands were bruised and bloody, the skin +broken. She picked up the paper. + +"Is this true?" she asked tremulously, pointing to the offending +headlines. + +Bill frowned. + +"Substantially correct," he answered coolly. + +"Bill, how could you?" she cried. "It's simply disgraceful. Brawling +in public like any saloon loafer, and getting in jail and all. Haven't +you any consideration for me--any pride?" + +His eyes narrowed with an angry glint. + +"Yes," he said deliberately. "I have. Pride in my word as a man. A +sort of pride that won't allow any bunch of lily-fingered crooks to +make me a party to any dirty deal. I don't propose to get the worst of +it in that way. I won't allow myself to be tarred with their stick." + +"But they're not trying to give you the worst of it," she burst out. +Visions of utter humiliation arose to confront and madden her. "You've +insulted and abused our best friends--to say nothing of giving us all +the benefit of newspaper scandal. We'll be notorious!" + +"Best friends? God save the mark!" he snorted contemptuously. "Our +best friends, as you please to call them, are crooks, thieves, and +liars. They're rotten. They stink with their moral rottenness. And +they have the gall to call it good business." + +"Just because their business methods don't agree with your peculiar +ideas is no reason why you should call names," she flared. "Mr. Brooks +called just after you left at noon. _He_ told me something about this, +and assured me that you would find yourself mistaken if you'd only take +pains to think it over. I don't believe such men as they are would +stoop to anything crooked. Even if the opportunity offered, they have +too much at stake in this community. They couldn't afford to be +crooked." + +"So Brooks came around to talk it over with you, eh?" Bill sneered. +"Told you it was all on the square, did he? Explained it all very +plausibly, I suppose. Probably suggested that you try smoothing me +down, too. It would be like 'em." + +"He did explain about this stock-selling business," Hazel replied +defensively. "And I can't see why you find it necessary to make a +fuss. I don't see where the cheating and crookedness comes in. +Everybody who buys stock gets their money's worth, don't they? But I +don't care anything about your old mining deal. It's this fighting and +quarreling with people who are not used to that sort of brute +action--and the horrid things they'll say and think about us." + +"About you, you mean--as the wife of such a boor--that's what's rubbing +you raw," Bill flung out passionately. "You're acquiring the class +psychology good and fast. Did you ever think of anybody but yourself? +Have I ever betrayed symptoms of idiocy? Do you think it natural or +even likely for me to raise the devil in a business affair like this +out of sheer malice? Don't I generally have a logical basis for any +position I take? Yet you don't wait or ask for any explanation from +_me_. You stand instinctively with the crowd that has swept you off +your feet in the last six months. You take another man's word that +it's all right and I'm all wrong, without waiting to hear my side of +it. And the petty-larceny incident of my knocking down two or three +men and being under arrest as much as thirty minutes looms up before +you as the utter depths of disgrace. Disgrace to you! It's all +you--you! How do you suppose it strikes me to have my wife take sides +against me on snap judgment like that? It shows a heap of faith and +trust and loyalty, doesn't it? Oh, it makes me real proud and glad of +my mate. It does. By thunder, if Granville had ever treated me as it +tried to treat you one time, according to your own account, I'd wipe my +feet on them at every opportunity." + +"If you'd explain," Hazel began hesitatingly. She was thoroughly +startled at the smoldering wrath that flared out in this speech of his. +She bitterly resented being talked to in that fashion. It was unjust. +Particularly that last fling. And she was not taking sides. She +refused to admit that--even though she had a disturbing consciousness +that her attitude could scarcely be construed otherwise. + +"I'll explain nothing," Bill flashed stormily. "Not at this stage of +the game. I'm through explaining. I'm going to act. I refuse to be +raked over the coals like a naughty child, and then asked to tell why I +did it. I'm right, and when I know I'm right I'll go the limit. I'm +going to take the kinks out of this Free Gold deal inside of +forty-eight hours. Then I'm through with Granville. Hereafter I +intend to fight shy of a breed of dogs who lose every sense of square +dealing when there is a bunch of money in sight. I shall be ready to +leave here within a week. And I want you to be ready, too." + +"I won't," she cried, on the verge of hysterics. "I won't go back to +that cursed silence and loneliness. You made this trouble here, not I. +I won't go back to Pine River, or the Klappan. I won't, I tell you!" + +Bill stared at her moodily for a second. + +"Just as you please," he said quietly. + +He walked into the spare bedroom. Hazel heard the door close gently +behind him, heard the soft click of a well-oiled lock. Then she +slumped, gasping, in the wide-armed chair by the window, and the hot +tears came in a blinding flood. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE AFTERMATH + +They exchanged only bare civilities at the breakfast table, and Bill at +once went downtown. When he was gone, Hazel fidgeted uneasily about +the rooms. She had only a vague idea of legal processes, having never +seen the inside of a courtroom. She wondered what penalty would be +inflicted on Bill, whether he would be fined or sent to prison. Surely +it was a dreadful thing to batter men like Brooks and Lorimer and +Parkinson. They might even make it appear that Bill had tried to +murder them. Her imagination magnified and distorted the incident out +of all proportion. + +And brooding over these things, she decided to go and talk it over with +Kitty Brooks. Kitty would not blame her for these horrid man troubles. + +But she was mistaken there. Kitty was all up in arms. She was doubly +injured. Her husband had suffered insult and brutal injury. Moreover, +he was threatened with financial loss. Perhaps that threatened wound +in the pocketbook loomed larger than the physical hurt. At any rate, +she vented some of her spleen on Hazel. + +"Your husband started this mining thing," she declared heatedly. +"Jimmie says that if he persists in trying to turn things upside down +it will mean a loss of thousands. And we haven't any money to +lose--I'm sure Jimmie has worked hard for what he's got. I'm simply +sick over it. It's bad enough to have one's husband brought home +looking as if he'd been slugged by footpads, and to have the papers go +on about it so. But to have a big loss inflicted on us just when we +were really beginning to get ahead, is too much. I wish you'd never +introduced your miner to us." + +That speech, of course, obliterated friendship on the spot, as far as +Hazel was concerned. Even though she was quite prepared to have Bill +blamed for the trouble, did in fact so blame him herself, she could not +stomach Kitty's language nor attitude. But the humiliation of the +interview she chalked up against Bill. She went home with a red spot +glowing on either cheekbone. A rather incoherent telephone +conversation with Mrs. Allen T. Bray, in which that worthy matron +declared her husband prostrated from his injuries, and in the same +breath intimated that Mr. Wagstaff would be compelled to make ample +reparation for his ruffianly act, did not tend to soothe her. + +Bill failed to appear at luncheon. During the afternoon an uncommon +number other acquaintances dropped in. In the tactful manner of their +kind they buzzed with the one absorbing topic. Some were vastly +amused. Some were sympathetic. One and all they were consumed with +curiosity for detailed inside information on the Free Gold squabble. +One note rang consistently in their gossipy song: The Free Gold Company +was going to lose a pot of money in some manner, as a consequence of +the affair. Mr. Wagstaff had put some surprising sort of spoke in the +company's wheel. They had that from their husbands who trafficked on +Broad Street. By what power he had accomplished this remained a +mystery to the ladies. Singly and collectively they drove Hazel to the +verge of distraction. When the house was at last clear of them she +could have wept. Through no fault of her own she had given Granville +another choice morsel to roll under its gossipy tongue. + +So that when six o'clock brought Bill home, she was coldly disapproving +of him and his affairs in their entirety, and at no pains to hide her +feelings. He followed her into the living-room when the uncomfortable +meal--uncomfortable by reason of the surcharged atmosphere--was at an +end. + +"Let's get down to bed rock, Hazel," he said gently. "Doesn't it seem +rather foolish to let a bundle of outside troubles set up so much +friction between us two? I don't want to stir anything up; I don't +want to quarrel. But I can't stand this coldness and reproach from +you. It's unjust, for one thing. And it's so unwise--if we value our +happiness as a thing worth making some effort to save." + +"I don't care to discuss it at all," she flared up. "I've heard +nothing else all day but this miserable mining business and your +ruffianly method of settling a dispute. I'd rather not talk about it." + +"But we must talk about it," he persisted patiently. "I've got to show +you how the thing stands, so that you can see for yourself where your +misunderstanding comes in. You can't get to the bottom of anything +without more or less talk." + +"Talk to yourself, then," she retorted ungraciously. And with that she +ran out of the room. + +But she had forgotten or underestimated the catlike quickness of her +man. He caught her in the doorway, and the grip of his fingers on her +arm brought a cry of pain. + +"Forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt," he said contritely. "Be a good +girl, Hazel, and let's get our feet on earth again. Sit down and put +your arm around my neck and be my pal, like you used to be. We've got +no business nursing these hard feelings. It's folly. I haven't +committed any crime. I've only stood for a square deal. Come on; bury +the hatchet, little person." + +"Let me go," she sobbed, struggling to be free. "I h-hate you!" + +"Please, little person. I can't eat humble pie more than once or +twice." + +"Let me go," she panted. "I don't want you to touch me." + +"Listen to me," he said sternly. "I've stood about all of your +nonsense I'm able to stand. I've had to fight a pack of business +wolves to keep them from picking my carcass, and, what's more important +to me, to keep them from handing a raw deal to five men who wallowed +through snow and frost and all kinds of hardship to make these sharks a +fortune. I've got down to their level and fought them with their own +weapons--and the thing is settled. I said last night I'd be through +here inside a week. I'm through now--through here. I have business in +the Klappan; to complete this thing I've set my hand to. Then I'm +going to the ranch and try to get the bad taste out of my mouth. I'm +going to-morrow. I've no desire or intention to coerce you. You're my +wife, and your place is with me, if you care anything about me. And I +want you. You know that, don't you? I wouldn't be begging you like +this if I didn't. I haven't changed, nor had my eyes dazzled by any +false gods. But it's up to you. I don't bluff. I'm going, and if I +have to go without you I won't come back. Think it over, and just ask +yourself honestly if it's worth while." + +He drew her up close to him and kissed her on one anger-flushed cheek, +and then, as he had done the night before, walked straight away to the +bedroom and closed the door behind him. + +Hazel slept little that night. A horrid weight seemed to rest +suffocatingly upon her. More than once she had an impulse to creep in +there where Bill lay and forget it all in the sweep of that strong arm. +But she choked back the impulse angrily. She would not forgive him. +He had made her suffer. For his high-handedness she would make him +suffer in kind. At least, she would not crawl to him begging +forgiveness. + +When sunrise laid a yellow beam, all full of dancing motes, across her +bed, she heard Bill stir, heard him moving about the apartment with +restless steps. After a time she also heard the unmistakable sound of +a trunk lid thrown back, and the movements of him as he gathered his +clothes--so she surmised. But she did not rise till the maid rapped on +her door with the eight-o'clock salutation: + +"Breakfast, ma'am." + +They made a pretense of eating. Hazel sought a chair in the +living-room. A book lay open in her lap. But the print ran into +blurred lines. She could not follow the sense of the words. An +incessant turmoil of thought harassed her. Bill passed through the +room once or twice. Determinedly she ignored him. The final snap of +the lock on his trunk came to her at last, the bumping sounds of its +passage to the hall. Then a burly expressman shouldered it into his +wagon and drove away. + +A few minutes after that Bill came in and took a seat facing her. + +"What are you going to do, Hazel?" he asked soberly. + +"Nothing," she curtly replied. + +"Are you going to sit down and fold your hands and let our air castles +come tumbling about our ears, without making the least effort to +prevent?" he continued gently. "Seems to me that's not like you at +all. I never thought you were a quitter." + +"I'm not a quitter," she flung back resentfully. "I refuse to be +browbeaten, that's all. There appears to be only one choice--to follow +you like a lamb. And I'm not lamblike. I'd say that you are the +quitter. You have stirred up all this trouble here between us. Now +you're running away from it. That's how it looks to me. Go on! I can +get along." + +"I dare say you can," he commented wearily. "Most of us can muddle +along somehow, no matter what happens. But it seems a pity, little +person. We had all the chance in the world. You've developed an +abnormal streak lately. If you'd just break away and come back with +me. You don't know what good medicine those old woods are. Won't you +try it a while?" + +"I am not by nature fitted to lead the hermit existence," she returned +sarcastically. + +And even while her lips were uttering these various unworthy little +bitternesses she inwardly wondered at her own words. It was not what +she would have said, not at all what she was half minded to say. But a +devil of perverseness spurred her. She was full of protest against +everything. + +"I wish we'd had a baby," Bill murmured softly. "You'd be different. +You'd have something to live for besides this frothy, neurotic +existence that has poisoned you against the good, clean, healthy way of +life. I wish we'd had a kiddie. We'd have a fighting chance for +happiness now; something to keep us sane, something outside of our own +ego to influence us." + +"Thank God there isn't one!" she muttered. + +"Ah, well," Bill sighed, "I guess there is no use. I guess we can't +get together on anything. There doesn't seem to be any give-and-take +between us any longer." + +He rose and walked to the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned. + +"I have fixed things at the bank for you," he said abruptly. + +Then he walked out, without waiting for an answer. + +She heard the soft whir of the elevator. A minute later she saw him on +the sidewalk. He had an overcoat on his arm, a suit case in his hand. +She saw him lift a finger to halt a passing car. + +It seemed incredible that he should go like that. Surely he would come +back at noon or at dinner time. She had always felt that under his +gentleness there was iron. But deep in her heart she had never +believed him so implacable of purpose where she was concerned. + +She waited wearily, stirring with nervous restlessness from room to +room. + +Luncheon passed. The afternoon dragged by to a close. Dusk fell. And +when the night wrapped Granville in its velvet mantle, and the street +lights blinked away in shining rows, she cowered, sobbing, in the big +chair by the window. + +He was gone. + +Gone, without even saying good-by! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +A LETTER FROM BILL + +All through the long night she lay awake, struggling with the +incredible fact that Bill had left her; trying to absolve herself from +blame; flaring up in anger at his unyielding attitude, even while she +was sorely conscious that she herself had been stubbornly unyielding. +If he had truly loved her, she reiterated, he would never have made it +an issue between them. But that was like a man--to insist on his own +desires being made paramount; to blunder on headlong, no matter what +antagonisms he aroused. And he was completely in the wrong, she +reasserted. + +She recapitulated it all. Through the winter he had consistently +withdrawn into his shell. For her friends and for most of her +pleasures he had at best exhibited only tolerance. And he had ended by +outraging both them and her, and on top of that demanded that she turn +her back at twenty-four hours' notice, on Granville and all its +associations and follow him into a wilderness that she dreaded. She +had full right to her resentment. As his partner in the chancy +enterprise of marriage were not her feelings and desires entitled to +equal consideration? He had assumed the role of dictator. And she had +revolted. That was all. She was justified. + +Eventually she slept. At ten o'clock, heavy-eyed, suffering an +intolerable headache, she rose and dressed. + +Beside her plate lay a thick letter addressed in Bill's handwriting. +She drank her coffee and went back to the bedroom before she opened the +envelope. By the postmark she saw that it had been mailed on a train. + + +DEAR GIRL: I have caught my breath, so to speak, but I doubt if ever a +more forlorn cuss listened to the interminable clicking of car wheels. +I am tempted at each station to turn back and try again. It seems so +unreal, this parting in hot anger, so miserably unnecessary. But when +I stop to sum it up again, I see no use in another appeal. I could +come back--yes. Only the certain knowledge that giving in like that +would send us spinning once more in a vicious circle prevents me. I +didn't believe it possible that we could get so far apart. Nor that a +succession of little things could cut so weighty a figure in our lives. +And perhaps you are very sore and resentful at me this morning for +being so precipitate. + +I couldn't help it, Hazel. It seemed the only way. It seems so yet to +me. There was nothing more to keep me in Granville--everything to make +me hurry away. If I had weakened and temporized with you it would only +mean the deferring of just what has happened. When you declared +yourself flatly and repeatedly it seemed hopeless to argue further. I +am a poor pleader, perhaps; and I do not believe in compulsion between +us. Whatever you do you must do of your own volition, without pressure +from me. We couldn't be happy otherwise. If I compelled you to follow +me against your desire we should only drag misery in our train. + +I couldn't even say good-by. I didn't want it to be good-by. I didn't +know if I could stick to my determination to go unless I went as I did. +And my reason told me that if there must be a break it would better +come now than after long-drawn-out bickerings and bitterness. If we +are so diametrically opposed where we thought we stood together we have +made a mistake that no amount of adjusting, nothing but separate roads, +will rectify. Myself I refuse to believe that we have made such a +mistake. I don't think that honestly and deliberately you prefer an +exotic, useless, purposeless, parasitic existence to the normal, +wholesome life we happily planned. But you are obsessed, +intoxicated--I can't put it any better--and nothing but a shock will +sober you. If I'm wrong, if love and Bill's companionship can't lure +you away from these other things--why, I suppose you will consider it +an ended chapter. In that case you will not suffer. The situation as +it stands will be a relief to you. If, on the other hand, it's merely +a stubborn streak, that won't let you admit that you've carried your +proud little head on an over-stiff neck, do you think it's worth the +price? I don't. I'm not scolding, little person. I'm sick and sore +at the pass we've come to. No damn-fool pride can close my eyes to the +fact or keep me from admitting freely that I love you just as much and +want you as longingly as I did the day I put you aboard the _Stanley +D._ at Bella Coola. I thought you were stepping gladly out of my life +then. And I let you go freely and without anything but a dumb protest +against fate, because it was your wish. I can step out of your life +again--if it is your wish. But I can't imprison myself in your cities. +I can't pretend, even for your sake, to play the game they call +business. I'm neither an idler nor can I become a legalized buccaneer. +I have nothing but contempt for those who are. Mind you, this is not +so sweeping a statement as it sounds. No one has a keener appreciation +of what civilization means than I. Out of it has arisen culture and +knowledge, much of what should make the world a better place for us +all. But somehow this doesn't apply to the mass, and particularly not +to the circles we invaded in Granville. With here and there a solitary +exception that class is hopeless in its smug self-satisfaction--its +narrowness of outlook, and unblushing exploitation of the less +fortunate, repels me. + +And to dabble my hands in their muck, to settle down and live my life +according to their bourgeois standards, to have grossness of soft flesh +replace able sinews, to submerge mentality in favor of a specious +craftiness of mind which passes in the "city" for brains--well, I'm on +the road. And, oh, girl, girl, I wish you were with me. + +I must explain this mining deal--that phase of it which sent me on the +rampage in Granville. I should have done so before, should have +insisted on making it clear to you. But a fellow doesn't always do the +proper thing at the proper time. All too frequently we are dominated +by our emotions rather than by our judgment. It was so with me. The +other side had been presented to you rather cleverly at the right time. +And your ready acceptance of it angered me beyond bounds. You were +prejudiced. It stirred me to a perfect fury to think you couldn't be +absolutely loyal to your pal. When you took that position I simply +couldn't attempt explanations. Do you think I'd ever have taken the +other fellow's side against you, right or wrong? + +Anyway, here it is: You got the essentials, up to a certain point, from +Brooks. But he didn't tell it all--his kind never does, not by a long +shot. They, the four of them, it seems, held a meeting as soon as I +shipped out that gold and put through that stock-selling scheme. That +was legitimate. I couldn't restrain them from that, being a hopeless +minority of one. Their chief object, however, was to let two or three +friends in on the ground floor of a good thing; also, they wanted each +a good bundle of that stock while it was cheap--figuring that with the +prospects I had opened up it would sell high. So they had it on the +market, and in addition had everything framed up to reorganize with a +capitalization of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This all cut +and dried before I got there. Now, as it originally stood, the five of +us would each have made a small fortune on these Klappan claims. +They're good. But with a quarter of a million in outstanding +stock--well, it would be all right for the fellow with a big block. +But you can see where I would get off with a five-thousand-dollar +interest. To be sure, a certain proportion of the money derived from +the sale of this stock should be mine. But it goes into the treasury, +and they had it arranged to keep it in the treasury, as a fund for +operations, with them doing the operating. They had already indicated +their bent by voting an annual stipend of ten thousand and six thousand +dollars to Lorimer and Brooks as president and secretary respectively. +Me, they proposed to quiet with a manager's wage of a mere five +thousand a year--after I got on the ground and began to get my back up. + +Free Gold would have been a splendid Stock Exchange possibility. They +had it all doped out how they could make sundry clean-ups irrespective +of the mine's actual product. That was the first thing that made me +dubious. They were stock-market gamblers, manipulators pure and +simple. But I might have let it go at that, seeing it was their game +and not one that I or anybody I cared about would get fleeced at. I +didn't approve of it, you understand. It was their game. + +But they capped the climax with what I must cold-bloodedly characterize +as the baldest attempt at a dirty fraud I ever encountered. And they +had the gall to try and make me a party to it. To make this clear you +must understand that I, on behalf of the company and acting as the +company's agent, grubstaked Whitey Lewis and four others to go in and +stake those claims. I was empowered to arrange with these five men +that if the claims made a decent showing each should receive five +thousand dollars in stock for assigning their claims to the company, +and should have employment at top wages while the claims were operated. + +They surely earned it. You know what the North is in the dead of +winter. They bucked their way through a hell of frost and snow and +staked the claims. If ever men were entitled to what was due them, +they were. And not one of them stuttered over his bargain, even though +they were taking out weekly as much gold as they were to get for their +full share. They'd given their word, and they were white men. They +took me for a white man also. They took my word that they would get +what was coming to them, and gave me in the company's name clear title +to every claim. I put those titles on record in Hazleton, and came +home. + +Lorimer and Brooks deliberately proposed to withhold that stock, to +defraud these men, to steal--oh, I can't find words strong enough. +They wanted to let the matter stand; wanted me to let it be adjusted +later; anything to serve as an excuse for delay. Brooks said to me, +with a grin; "The property's in the company's name--let the roughnecks +sweat a while. They've got no come-back, anyhow." + +That was when I smashed him. Do you blame me? I'd taken over those +fellows' claims in good faith. Could I go back there and face those +men and say: "Boys, the company's got your claims, and they won't pay +for them." Do you think for a minute I'd let a bunch of lily-fingered +crooks put anything like that over on simple, square-dealing fellows +who were too honest to protect their own interests from sharp practice? +A quartet of soft-bodied mongrels who sat in upholstered office chairs +while these others wallowed through six feet of snow for three weeks, +living on bacon and beans, to grab a pot of gold for them! It makes my +fist double up when I think about it. + +And I wouldn't be put off or placated by a chance to fatten my own bank +roll. I didn't care if I broke the Free Gold Mining Company and myself +likewise. A dollar doesn't terrify nor yet fascinate me--I hope it +never will. And while, perhaps, it was not what they would call good +form for me to lose my temper and go at them with my fists, I was +fighting mad when I thoroughly sensed their dirty project. Anyway, it +helped bring them to time. When you take a man of that type and cuff +him around with your two hands he's apt to listen serious to what you +say. And they listened when I told them in dead earnest next day that +Whitey Lewis and his partners must have what was due them, or I'd wreck +the bunch of them if it took ten years and every dollar I had to do it. +And I could have put them on the tramp, too--they'd already dipped +their fingers in where they couldn't stand litigation. I'm sure of +that--or they would never have come through; which they did. + +But I'm sorry I ever got mixed up with them. I'm going to sell my +stock and advise Lewis and the others to do the same while we can get +full value for it. Lorimer and that bunch will manipulate the outfit +to death, no matter how the mine produces. They'll have a quarter of a +million to work on pretty soon, and they'll work it hard. They're +shysters--but it's after all only a practical demonstration of the +ethics of the type--"Do everybody you can--if you can do 'em so there's +no come-back." + +That's all of that. I don't care two whoops about the money. There is +still gold in the Klappan Range and other corners of the North, +whenever I need it. But it nauseated me. I can't stand that cutthroat +game. And Granville, like most other cities of its kind, lives by and +for that sort of thing. The pressure of modern life makes it +inevitable. Anyway, a town is no place for me. I can stomach it about +so long, and no longer. It's too cramped, too girded about with +petty-larceny conventions. If once you slip and get down, every one +walks on you. Everything's restricted, priced, tinkered with. There +is no real freedom of body or spirit. I wouldn't trade a comfy log +cabin in the woods with a big fireplace and a shelf of books for the +finest home on Maple Drive--not if I had to stay there and stifle in +the dust and smoke and smells. That would be a sordid and impoverished +existence. I cannot live by the dog-eat-dog code that seems to prevail +wherever folk get jammed together in an unwieldy social mass. + +I have said the like to you before. By nature and training I'm +unfitted to live in these crowded places. I love you, little person, I +don't think you realize how much, but I can't make you happy by making +myself utterly miserable. That would only produce the inevitable +reaction. But I still think you are essentially enough like me to meet +me on common ground. You loved me and you found contentment and joy at +our little cabin once. Don't you think it might be waiting there again? + +If you really care, if I and the old North still mean anything to you, +a few days or weeks, or even months of separation won't matter. An +affection that can't survive six months is too fragile to go through +life on. I don't ask you to jump the next train and follow me. I +don't ask you to wire me, "Come back, Bill." Though I would come quick +enough if you called me. I merely want you to think it over soberly +and let your heart decide. You know where I stand, don't you, Hazel, +dear? I haven't changed--not a bit--I'm the same old Bill. But I'd +rather hit the trail alone than with an unwilling partner. Don't +flounder about in any quicksand of duty. There is no "I ought to" +between us. + +So it is up to you once more, little person. If my way is not to be +your way I will abide by your decision without whining. And whenever +you want to reach me, a message to Felix Courvoiseur, Fort George, will +eventually find me. I'll fix it that way. + +I don't know what I'll do after I make that Klappan trip. I'm too +restless to make plans. What's the use of planning when there's nobody +but myself to plan for? + +So long, little person. I like you a heap, for all your cantankerous +ways. + +BILL. + + +She laid aside the letter, with a lump in her throat. For a brief +instant she was minded to telegraph the word that would bring him +hurrying back. But--some of the truths he had set down in cold black +and white cut her deep. Of a surety she had drawn her weapon on the +wrong side in the mining trouble. Over-hasty?--yes. And shamefully +disloyal. Perhaps there was something in it, after all; that is to +say, it might be they had made a mistake. She saw plainly enough that +unless she could get back some of the old enthusiasm for that +wilderness life, unless the fascination of magnificent distances, of +silent, breathless forests, of contented, quiet days on trail and +stream, could lay fast hold of her again, they would only defer the day +of reckoning, as Bill had said. + +And she was not prepared to go that far. She still harbored a +smoldering grudge against him for his volcanic outburst in Granville, +and too precipitate departure. He had given her no time to think, to +make a choice. The flesh-pots still seemed wholly desirable--or, +rather, she shrank from the alternative. When she visualized the North +it uprose always in its most threatening presentment, indescribably +lonely, the playground of ruthless, elemental forces, terrifying in its +vast emptinesses. It appalled her in retrospect, loomed unutterably +desolate in contrast to her present surroundings. + +No, she would not attempt to call him back. She doubted if he would +come. And she would not go--not yet. She must have time to think. + +One thing pricked her sorely. She could not reconcile the roguery of +Brooks and Lorimer with the men as she knew them. Not that she doubted +Bill's word. But there must be a mistake somewhere. Ruthless +competition in business she knew and understood. Only the fit +survived--just as in her husband's chosen field only the peculiarly fit +could hope to survive. But she rather resented the idea that pleasant, +well-bred people could be guilty of coarse, forthright fraud. Surely +not! + +Altogether, as the first impression of Bill's letter grew less vivid to +her she considered her grievances more. And she was minded to act as +she had set out to do--to live her life as seemed best to her, rather +than pocket her pride and rejoin Bill. The feminine instinct to compel +the man to capitulate asserted itself more and more strongly. + +Wherefore, she dressed carefully and prepared to meet a luncheon +engagement which she recalled as being down for that day. No matter +that her head ached woefully. Thought maddened her. She required +distraction, craved change. The chatter over the tea-cups, the +cheerful nonsense of that pleasure-seeking crowd might be a tonic. +Anything was better than to sit at home and brood. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE SPUR. + +A month passed. + +During that thirty-day period she received a brief note from Bill. +Just a few lines to say: + + +Hit the ranch yesterday, little person. Looks good to me. Have had +Lauer do some work on it this summer. Went fishing last night about +sundown. Trout were rising fine. Nailed a two-pounder. He jumped a +foot clear of the water after my fly, and gave me a hot time for about +ten minutes. Woke up this morning at daylight and found a buck deer +with two lady friends standing in the middle of the clearing. I loafed +a fews days in Fort George, sort of thinking I might hear from you. Am +sending this out by Jake. Will start for the Klappan about day after +to-morrow. + + +She had not answered his first letter. She had tried to. But somehow +when she tried to set pen to paper the right words would not come. She +lacked his facility of expression. There was so much she wanted to +say, so little she seemed able to say. As the days passed she felt +less sure of her ground, less sure that she had not sacrificed +something precious to a vagary of self, an obsession of her own ego. + +Many things took on a different complexion now that she stood alone. +No concrete evidence of change stood forth preeminent. It was largely +subjective, atmospheric, intangible impressions. + +Always with a heart sinking she came back to the empty apartment, +knowing that it would be empty. During Bill's transient absence of the +spring she had missed him scarcely at all. She could not say that now. + +And slowly but surely she began to view all her activities of her +circle with a critical eye. She was brought to this partly in +self-defense. Certain of her friends had become tentative enemies. +Kitty Brooks and the Bray womenfolk, who were a numerous and +influential tribe, not only turned silent faces when they met, but they +made war on her in the peculiar fashion of women. A word here, a +suggestive phrase there, a shrug of the shoulders. It all bore fruit. +Other friends conveyed the avid gossip. Hazel smiled and ignored it. +But in her own rooms she raged unavailingly. + +Her husband had left her. There was a man in the case. They had lost +everything. The first count was sufficiently maddening because it was +a half truth. And any of it was irritating--even if few +believed--since it made a choice morsel to digest in gossipy corners, +and brought sundry curious stares on Hazel at certain times. Also Mr. +Wagstaff had caused the stockholders of Free Gold a heavy loss--which +was only offset by the fact that the Free Gold properties were +producing richly. None of this was even openly flung at her. She +gathered it piecemeal. And it galled her. She could not openly defend +either Bill or herself against the shadowy scandalmongers. + +Slowly it dawned upon her, with a bitterness born of her former +experience with Granville, that she had lost something of the standing +that certain circles had accorded her as the wife of a successful +mining man. It made her ponder. Was Bill so far wrong, after all, in +his estimate of them? It was a disheartening conclusion. She had come +of a family that stood well in Granville; she had grown up there; if +life-time friends blew hot and cold like that, was the game worth +playing? + +In so far as she could she gave the lie to some of the petty gossip. +Whereas at first she had looked dubiously on spending Bill's money to +maintain the standard of living they had set up, she now welcomed that +deposit of five thousand dollars as a means to demonstrate that even in +his absence he stood behind her financially--which she began to +perceive counted more than anything else. So long as she could dress +in the best, while she could ride where others walked, so long as she +betrayed no limitation of resources, the doors stood wide. Not what +you are, but what you've got--she remembered Bill saying that was their +holiest creed. + +It repelled her. And sometimes she was tempted to sit down and pour it +all out in a letter to him. But she could not quite bring herself to +the point. Always behind Bill loomed the vast and dreary Northland, +and she shrank from that. + +On top of this, she began to suffer a queer upset of her physical +condition. All her life she had been splendidly healthy; her body a +perfect-working machine, afflicted with no weaknesses. Now odd +spasmodic pains recurred without rhyme or reason in her head, her back, +her limbs, striking her with sudden poignancy, disappearing as suddenly. + +She was stretched on the lounge one afternoon wrestling nervously with +a particularly acute attack, when Vesta Lorimer was ushered in. + +"You're almost a stranger," Hazel remarked, after the first greetings. +"Your outing must have been pleasant, to hold you so long." + +"It would have held me longer," Vesta returned, "if I didn't have to be +in touch with my market. I could live quite happily on my island eight +months in the year. But one can't get people to come several hundred +miles to a sitting. And I feel inclined to acquire a living income +while my vogue lasts." + +"You're rather a wilderness lover, aren't you?" Hazel commented. "I +don't think you'd love it as dearly if you were buried alive in it." + +"That would all depend on the circumstances," Vesta replied. "One +escapes many disheartening things in a country that is still +comparatively primitive. The continual grind of keeping one's end up +in town gets terribly wearisome. I'm always glad to go to the woods, +and sorry when I have to leave. But I suppose it's largely in one's +point of view." + +They chatted of sundry matters for a few minutes. + +"By the way, is there any truth in the statement that this Free Gold +row has created trouble between you and your husband?" Vesta asked +abruptly. "I dare say it's quite an impertinent question, and you'd be +well within your rights to tell me it's none of my business. But I +should like to confound some of these petty tattlers. I haven't been +home forty-eight hours; yet I've heard tongues wagging. I hope there's +nothing in it. I warned Mr. Wagstaff against Paul." + +"Warned him? Why?" Hazel neglected the question entirely. The +bluntness of it took her by surprise. Frank speech was not a +characteristic of Vesta Lorimer's set. + +The girl shrugged her shoulders. + +"He is my brother, but that doesn't veil my eyes," she said coolly. +"Paul is too crooked to lie straight in bed. I'm glad Mr. Wagstaff +brought the lot of them up with a round turn--which he seems to have +done. If he had used a club instead of his fists it would have been +only their deserts. I suppose the fuss quite upset you?" + +"It did," Hazel admitted grudgingly. "It did more than upset me." + +"I thought as much," Vesta said slowly. "It made you inflict an +undeserved hurt on a man who should have had better treatment at your +hands; not only because he loves you, but because he is one of the few +men who deserve the best that you or any woman can give." + +Hazel straightened up angrily. + +"Where do you get your astonishing information, pray?" she asked hotly. +"And where do you get your authority to say such things to me?" + +Vesta tucked back a vagrant strand of her tawny hair. Her blue eyes +snapped, and a red spot glowed on each smooth, fair cheek. + +"I don't get it; I'm taking it," she flung back. "I have eyes and +ears, and I have used them for months. Since you inquire, I happened +to be going over the Lake Division on the same train that carried your +husband back to the North. You can't knife a man without him bearing +the marks of it; and I learned in part why he was going back alone. +The rest I guessed, by putting two and two together. You're a silly, +selfish, shortsighted little fool, if my opinion is worth having." + +"You've said quite enough," Hazel cried. "If you have any more +insults, please get rid of them elsewhere. I think you are--" + +"Oh, I don't care what you think of me," the girl interrupted +recklessly. "If I did I wouldn't be here. I'd hide behind the +conventional rules of the game and let you blunder along. But I can't. +I'm not gifted with your blind egotism. Whatever you are, that Bill of +yours loves you, and if you care anything for him, you should be with +him. I would, if I were lucky enough to stand in your shoes. I'd go +with him down into hell itself gladly if he wanted me to!" + +"Oh!" Hazel gasped. "Are you clean mad?" + +"Shocked to death, aren't you?" Vesta fleered. "You can't understand, +can you? I love him--yes. I'm not ashamed to own it. I'm no +sentimental prude to throw up my hands in horror at a perfectly natural +emotion. But he is not for me. I dare say I couldn't give him an +added heartbeat if I tried. And I have a little too much +pride--strange as it may seem to you--to try, so long as he is chained +hand and foot to your chariot. But you're making him suffer. And I +care enough to want him to live all his days happily. He is a man, and +there are so few of them, real men. If you can make him happy I'd +compel you to do so, if I had the power. You couldn't understand that +kind of a love. Oh, I could choke you for your stupid disloyalty. I +could do almost anything that would spur you to action. I can't rid +myself of the hopeless, reckless mood he was in. There are so few of +his kind, the patient, strong, loyal, square-dealing men, with a +woman's tenderness and a lion's courage. Any woman should be proud and +glad to be his mate, to mother his children. And you--" + +She threw out her hands with a sudden, despairing gesture. The blue +eyes grew misty, and she hid her face in her palms. Before that +passionate outburst Hazel sat dumbly amazed, staring, uncertain. In a +second Vesta lifted her head defiantly. + +"I had no notion of breaking out like this when I came up," she said +quietly. "I was going to be very adroit. I intended to give you a +friendly boost along the right road, if I could. But it has all been +bubbling inside me for a long time. You perhaps think it very +unwomanly--but I don't care much what you think. My little heartache +is incidental, one of the things life deals us whether we will or not. +But if you care in the least for your husband, for God's sake make some +effort, some sacrifice of your own petty little desires, to make his +road a little pleasanter, a little less gray than it must be now. +You'll be well repaid--if you are the kind that must always be paid in +full. Don't be a stiff-necked idiot. That's all I wanted to say. +Good-by!" + +She was at the door when she finished. The click of the closing catch +stirred Hazel to speech and action. + +"Vesta, Vesta!" she cried, and ran out into the corridor. + +But Vesta Lorimer neither heeded nor halted. And Hazel went back to +her room, quivering. Sometimes the truth is bitter and stirs to wrath. +And mingled with other emotions was a dull pang of jealousy--the first +she had ever known. For Vesta Lorimer was beautiful beyond most women; +and she had but given ample evidence of the bigness of her soul. With +shamed tears creeping to her eyes, Hazel wondered if _she_ could love +even Bill so intensely that she would drive another woman to his arms +that he might win happiness. + +But one thing stood out clear above that painful meeting. She was done +fighting against the blankness that seemed to surround her since Bill +went away. Slowly but steadily it had been forced upon her that much +which she deemed desirable, even necessary, was of little weight in the +balance with him. Day and night she longed for him, for his cheery +voice, the whimsical good humor of him, his kiss and his smile. +Indubitably Vesta Lorimer was right to term her a stiff-necked, selfish +fool. But if all folk were saturated with the essence of wisdom--well, +there was but one thing to be done. Silly pride had to go by the +board. If to face gayly a land she dreaded were the price of easing +his heartache--and her own--that price she would pay, and pay with a +grace but lately learned. + +She lay down on the lounge again. The old pains were back. And as she +endured, a sudden startling thought flashed across her mind. A +possibility?--Yes. She hurried to dress, wondering why it had not +before occurred to her, and, phoning up a taxi, rolled downtown to the +office of Doctor Hart. An hour or so later she returned. A picture of +her man stood on the mantel. She took it down and stared at it with a +tremulous smile. + +"Oh, Billy-boy, Billy-boy, I wish you knew," she whispered. "But I was +coming, anyway, Bill!" + +That evening, stirring about her preparations for the journey, she +paused, and wondered why, for the first time since Bill left, she felt +so utterly at peace. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +HOME AGAIN + +Twelve months works many a change on a changing frontier. Hazel found +this so. When she came to plan her route she found the G. T. P. +bridging the last gap in a transcontinental system, its trains +westbound already within striking distance of Fort George. She could +board a sleeping car at Granville and detrain within a hundred miles of +the ancient trading post--with a fast river boat to carry her the +remaining distance. + +Fort George loomed up a jumbled area of houses and tents, log +buildings, frame structures yellow in their newness, strangers to paint +as yet. On every hand others stood in varying stages of erection. +Folks hurried about the sturdy beginning of a future greatness. And as +she left the boat and followed a new-laid walk of planks toward a +hotel, Jake Lauer stepped out of a store, squarely into her path. + +His round face lit up with a smile of recognition. And Hazel, fresh +from the long and lonesome journey, was equally glad to set eyes on a +familiar, a genuinely friendly face. + +"I am pleased to welgome you back to Gott's country, Mrs. Vagstaff," he +said. "Und let me carry dot suid case alretty." + +They walked two blocks to the King's Hotel, where Lauer's family was +housed. He was in for supplies, he told her, and, of course, his wife +and children accompanied him. + +"Not dat Gredda iss afraid. She iss so goot a man as I on der ranch +ven I am gone," he explained. "But for dem it iss a change. Und I +bring by der town a vaigonloat off bodadoes. By cosh, dem bodadoes iss +sell high." + +It flashed into Hazel's mind that here was a Heaven-sent opportunity to +reach the cabin without facing that hundred miles in the company of +chance-hired strangers. But she did not broach the subject at once. +Instead, she asked eagerly of Bill. Lauer told her that Bill had +tarried a few days at the cabin, and then struck out alone for the +mines. And he had not said when he would be back. + +Mrs. Lauer, unchanged from a year earlier, welcomed her with pleased +friendliness. And Jake left the two of them and the chubby kiddies in +the King's office while he betook himself about his business. Hazel +haled his wife and the children to her room as soon as one was assigned +to her. And there, almost before she knew it, she was murmuring +brokenly her story into an ear that listened with sympathy and +understanding. Only a woman can grasp some of a woman's needs. Gretta +Lauer patted Hazel's shoulder with a motherly hand, and bade her cheer +up. + +"Home's the place for you, dear," she said smilingly. "You just come +right along with us. Your man will come quick enough when he gets +word. And we'll take good care of you in the meantime. La, I'm all +excited over it. It's the finest thing could happen for you both. +Take it from me, dearie. I know. We've had our troubles, Jake and I. +And, seeing I'm only six months short of being a graduate nurse, you +needn't fear. Well, well!" + +"I'll need to have food hauled in," Hazel reflected. "And some things +I brought with me. I wish Bill were here. I'm afraid I'll be a lot of +bother. Won't you be heavily loaded, as it is?" + +She recalled swiftly the odd, makeshift team that Lauer depended +on--the mule, lop-eared and solemn, "und Gretchen, der cow." She had +cash and drafts for over three thousand dollars on her person. She +wondered if it would offend the sturdy independence of these simple, +kindly neighbors, if she offered to supply a four-horse team and wagon +for their mutual use? But she had been forestalled there, she learned +in the next breath. + +"Oh, bother nothing," Mrs. Lauer declared. "Why, we'd be ashamed if we +couldn't help a little. And far's the load goes, you ought to see the +four beautiful horses your husband let Jake have. You don't know how +much Jake appreciates it, nor what a fine man he thinks your husband +is. We needed horses so bad, and didn't have the money to buy. So Mr. +Wagstaff didn't say a thing but got the team for us, and Jake's paying +for them in clearing and plowing and making improvements on your land. +Honest, they could pull twice the load we'll have. There's a good +wagon road most of the way now. Quite a lot of settlers, too, as much +as fifty or sixty miles out. And we've got the finest garden you ever +saw. Vegetables enough to feed four families all winter. Oh, your old +cities! I never want to live in one again. Never a day have the +kiddies been sick. Suppose it is a bit out of the world? You're all +the more pleased when somebody does happen along. Folks is so +different in a new country like this. There's plenty for +everybody--and everybody helps, like neighbors ought to." + +Lauer came up after a time, and Hazel found herself unequivocally in +their hands. With the matter of transporting herself and supplies thus +solved, she set out to find Felix Courvoiseur--who would know how to +get word to Bill. He might come back to the cabin in a month or so; he +might not come back at all unless he heard from her. She was smitten +with a great fear that he might give her up as lost to him, and plunge +deeper into the wilderness in some mood of recklessness. And she +wanted him, longed for him, if only so that she could make amends. + +She easily found Courvoiseur, a tall, spare Frenchman, past middle age. +Yes, he could deliver a message to Bill Wagstaff; that is, he could +send a man. Bill Wagstaff was in the Klappan Range. + +"But if he should have left there?" Hazel suggested uneasily. + +"'E weel leave weeth W'itey Lewees word of w'ere 'e go," Courvoiseur +reassured her. "An' my man, w'ich ees my bruzzer-law, w'ich I can mos' +fully trus', 'e weel follow 'eem. So Beel 'e ees arrange. 'E ees say +mos' parteecular if madame ees come or weesh for forward message, geet +heem to me queeck. _Oui_. Long tam Beel ees know me. I am for depend +always." + +Courvoiseur kept a trader's stock of goods in a weather-beaten old log +house which sprawled a hundred feet back from the street. Thirty +years, he told her, he had kept that store in Fort George. She guessed +that Bill had selected him because he was a fixture. She sat down at +his counter and wrote her message. Just a few terse lines. And when +she had delivered it to Courvoiseur she went back to the hotel. There +was nothing now to do but wait. And with the message under way she +found herself impatient to reach the cabin, to spend the waiting days +where she had first found happiness. She could set her house in order +against her man's coming. And if the days dragged, and the great, lone +land seemed to close in and press inexorably upon her, she would have +to be patient, very patient. + +Jake was held up, waiting for supplies. Fort George suffered a sugar +famine. Two days later, the belated freight arrived. He loaded his +wagon, a ton of goods for himself, a like weight of Hazel's supplies +and belongings. A goodly load, but he drove out of Fort George with +four strapping bays arching their powerful necks, and champing on the +bit. + +"Four days ve vill make it by der ranch," Jake chuckled. "Mit der mule +und Gretchen, der cow, von veek it take me, mit half der loat." + +Four altogether pleasant and satisfying days they were to Hazel. The +worst of the fly pests were vanished for the season. A crisp touch of +frost sharpened the night winds. Indian summer hung its mellow haze +over the land. The clean, pungent air that sifted through the forests +seemed doubly sweet after the vitiated atmosphere of town. Fresh from +a gridiron of dusty streets and stone pavements, and but stepped, as +one might say, from days of imprisonment in the narrow confines of a +railway coach, she drank the winey air in hungry gulps, and joyed in +the soft yielding of the turf beneath her feet, the fern and pea-vine +carpet of the forest floor. + +It was her pleasure at night to sleep as she and Bill had slept, with +her face bared to the stars. She would draw her bed a little aside +from the camp fire and from the low seclusion of a thicket lie watching +the nimble flames at their merry dance, smiling lazily at the grotesque +shadows cast by Jake and his frau as they moved about the blaze. And +she would wake in the morning clear-headed, alert, grateful for the +pleasant woodland smells arising wholesomely from the fecund bosom of +the earth. + +Lauer pulled up before his own cabin at mid-afternoon of the fourth +day, unloaded his own stuff, and drove to his neighbor's with the rest. + +"I'll walk back after a little," Hazel told him, when he had piled her +goods in one corner of the kitchen. + +The rattle of the wagon died away. She was alone--at home. Her eyes +filled as she roved restlessly from kitchen to living-room and on into +the bedroom at the end. Bill had unpacked. The rugs were down, the +books stowed in familiar disarray upon their shelves, the bedding +spread in semi-disorder where he had last slept and gone away without +troubling to smooth it out in housewifely fashion. + +She came back to the living-room and seated herself in the big chair. +She had expected to be lonely, very lonely. But she was not. Perhaps +that would come later. For the present it seemed as if she had reached +the end of something, as if she were very tired, and had gratefully +come to a welcome resting place. She turned her gaze out the open door +where the forest fell away in vast undulations to a range of +snow-capped mountains purple in the autumn haze, and a verse that Bill +had once quoted came back to her: + + "Oh, to feel the Wind grow strong + Where the Trail leaps down. + I could never learn the way + And wisdom of the Town." + + +She blinked. The town--it seemed to have grown remote, a fantasy in +which she had played a puppet part. But she was home again. If only +the gladness of it endured strong enough to carry her through whatever +black days might come to her there alone. + +She would gladly have cooked her supper in the kitchen fireplace, and +laid down to sleep under her own roof. It seemed the natural thing to +do. But she had not expected to find the cabin livably arranged, and +she had promised the Lauers to spend the night with them. So presently +she closed the door and walked away through the woods. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +AFTER MANY DAYS + +September and October trooped past, and as they marched the willow +thickets and poplar groves grew yellow and brown, and carpeted the +floor of the woods with fallen leaves. Shrub and tree bared gaunt +limbs to every autumn wind. Only the spruce and pine stood forth in +their year-round habiliments of green. The days shortened steadily. +The nights grew long, and bitter with frost. Snow fell, blanketing +softly the dead leaves. Old Winter cracked his whip masterfully over +all the North. + +Day by day, between tasks, and often while she worked, Hazel's eyes +would linger on the edges of the clearing. Often at night she would +lift herself on elbow at some unexpected sound, her heart leaping wild +with expectation. And always she would lie down again, and sometimes +press her clenched hand to her lips to keep back the despairing cry. +Always she adjured herself to be patient, to wait doggedly as Bill +would have waited, to make due allowance for immensity of distance for +the manifold delays which might overtake a messenger faring across +those silent miles or a man hurrying to his home. Many things might +hold him back. But he would come. It was inconceivable that he might +not come. + +Meantime, with only a dim consciousness of the fact, she underwent a +marvelous schooling in adaptation, self-restraint. She had work of a +sort, tasks such as every housewife finds self-imposed in her own home. +She was seldom lonely. She marveled at that. It was unique in her +experience. All her old dread of the profound silence, the pathless +forests which infolded like a prison wall, distances which seemed +impossible of span, had vanished. In its place had fallen over her an +abiding sense of peace, of security. The lusty storm winds whistling +about the cabin sang a restful lullaby. When the wolves lifted their +weird, melancholy plaint to the cold, star-jeweled skies, she listened +without the old shudder. These things, which were wont to oppress her, +to send her imagination reeling along morbid ways, seemed but a natural +aspect of life, of which she herself was a part. + +Often, sitting before her glowing fireplace, watching a flame kindled +with her own hands with wood she herself had carried from the pile +outside, she pondered this. It defied her powers of self-analysis. +She could only accept it as a fact, and be glad. Granville and all +that Granville stood for had withdrawn to a more or less remote +background. She could look out over the frost-spangled forests and +feel that she lacked nothing--nothing save her mate. There was no +impression of transient abiding; no chafing to be elsewhere, to do +otherwise. It was home, she reflected; perhaps that was why. + +A simple routine served to fill her days. She kept her house shining, +she cooked her food, carried in her fuel. Except on days of forthright +storm she put on her snowshoes, and with a little rifle in the crook of +her arm prowled at random through the woods--partly because it gave her +pleasure to range sturdily afield, partly for the physical brace of +exertion in the crisp air. Otherwise she curled comfortably before the +fire-place, and sewed, or read something out of Bill's catholic +assortment of books. + +It was given her, also, to learn the true meaning of neighborliness, +that kindliness of spirit which is stifled by stress in the crowded +places, and stimulated by like stress amid surroundings where life is +noncomplex, direct, where cause and effect tread on each other's heels. +Every day, if she failed to drop into their cabin, came one of her +neighbors to see if all were well with her. Quite as a matter of +course Jake kept steadily replenished for her a great pile of firewood. +Or they would come, babies and all, bundled in furs of Jake's trapping, +jingling up of an evening behind the frisky bays. And while the bays +munched hay in Roaring Bill Wagstaff's stable, they would cluster about +the open hearth, popping corn for the children, talking, always with +cheerful optimism. + +Behind Lauer's mild blue eyes lurked a mind that burrowed incessantly +to the roots of things. He had lived and worked and read, and, +pondering it all, he had summed up a few of the verities. + +"Life, it iss giffen us, und ve must off it make der best ve can," he +said once to Hazel, fondling a few books he had borrowed to read at +home. "Life iss goot, yust der liffing off life, if only ve go not +astray afder der voolish dings--und if der self-breservation struggle +vears us not out so dot ve gannot enjoy being alife. So many iss +struggle und slave under terrible conditions. Und it iss largely +because off ignorance. Ve know not vot ve can do--und ve shrink vrom +der unknown. Here iss acres by der dousand vree to der man vot can off +it make use--und dousands vot liffs und dies und neffer hass a home. +Here iss goot, glean air--und in der shmoke und shmells und dirty +streets iss a ravage of tuberculosis. Der balance iss not true. Und +in der own vay der rich iss full off drouble--drunk mit eggcitement, +veary mit bleasures. Ach, der voods und mountains und streams, blenty +off food, und a kindly neighbor--iss not dot enough? Only der abnormal +vants more as dot. Und I dink der drouble iss largely dot der modern, +high-bressure cifilization makes for der abnormal, vedder a man iss a +millionaire or vorks in der brewery, contentment iss a state off der +mind--und if der mind vorks mit logic it vill content find in der +simple dings." + +It sounded like a pronouncement of Bill's. But Lauer did not often +grow serious. Mostly he was jovially cheerful, and his wife likewise. +The North had emancipated them, and they were loyal to the source of +their deliverance. And Hazel understood, because she herself had found +the wild land a benefactor, kindly in its silence, restful in its +forested peace, a cure for sickness of soul. Twice now it had rescued +her from herself. + +November and December went their appointed way--and still no word of +Bill. If now and then her pillow was wet she struggled mightily +against depression. She was not lonely in the dire significance of the +word--but she longed passionately for him. And she held fast to her +faith that he would come. + +The last of the old year she went little abroad, ventured seldom beyond +the clearing. And on New Year's Eve Jake Lauer's wife came to the +cabin to stay. + + +Hazel sat up, wide awake, on the instant. There was not the slightest +sound. She had been deep in sleep. Nevertheless she felt, rather than +knew, that some one was in the living-room. Perhaps the sound of the +door opening had filtered through her slumber. She hesitated an +instant, not through fear, because in the months of living alone fear +had utterly forsaken her; but hope had leaped so often, only to fall +sickeningly, that she was half persuaded it must be a dream. Still the +impression strengthened. She slipped out of bed. The door of the +bedroom stood slightly ajar. + +Bill stood before the fireplace, his shaggy fur cap pushed far back on +his head, his gauntlets swinging from the cord about his neck. She had +left a great bed of coals on the hearth, and the glow shone redly on +his frost-scabbed face. But the marks of bitter trail bucking, the +marks of frostbite, the stubby beard, the tiny icicles that still +clustered on his eyebrows; while these traces of hardship tugged at her +heart they were forgotten when she saw the expression that overshadowed +his face. Wonder and unbelief and longing were all mirrored there. +She took a shy step forward to see what riveted his gaze. And despite +the choking sensation in her throat she smiled--for she had taken off +her little, beaded house moccasins and left them lying on the bearskin +before the fire, and he was staring down at them like a man +fresh-wakened from a dream, unbelieving and bewildered. + +[Illustration: Bill stood before the fireplace, his shaggy fur cap +pushed far back on his head.] + +With that she opened the door and ran to him. He started, as if she +had been a ghost. Then he opened his arms and drew her close to him. + +"Bill, Bill, what made you so long?" she whispered. "I guess it served +me right, but it seemed a never-ending time." + +"What made me so long?" he echoed, bending his rough cheek down against +the warm smoothness of hers. "Lord, _I_ didn't know you wanted me. I +ain't no telepathist, hon. You never yeeped one little word since I +left. How long you been here?" + +"Since last September." She smiled up at him. "Didn't Courvoiseur's +man deliver a message from me to the mine? Didn't you come in answer +to my note?" + +"Great Caesar's ghost--since September--alone! You poor little girl!" +he murmured. "No, if you sent word to me through Courvoiseur I never +got it. Maybe something happened his man. I left the Klappan with the +first snow. Went poking aimlessly over around the Finlay River with a +couple of trappers. Couldn't settle down. Never heard a word from +you. I'd given you up. I just blew in this way by sheer accident. +Girl, girl, you don't know how good it is to see you again, to have +this warm body of yours cuddled up to me again. And you came right +here and planted yourself to wait till I turned up?" + +"Sure!" She laughed happily. "But I sent you word, even if you never +got it. Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters now. You're +here, and I'm here, and-- Oh, Billy-boy, I was an awful pig-headed +idiot. Do you think you can take another chance with me?" + +"Say"--he held her off at arm's length admiringly--"do you want to know +how strong I am for taking a chance with you? Well, I was on my way +out to flag the next train East, just to see--just to see if you still +cared two pins; to see if you still thought your game was better than +mine." + +"Well, you don't have to take any eastbound train to find that out," +she cried gayly. "I'm here to tell you I care a lot more than any +number of pins. Oh, I've learned a lot in the last six months, Bill. +I had to hurt myself, and you, too. I had to get a jolt to jar me out +of my self-centered little orbit. I got it, and it did me good. And +it's funny. I came back here because I thought I ought to, because it +was our home, but rather dreading it. And I've been quite contented +and happy--only hungry, oh, so dreadfully hungry, for you." + +Bill kissed her. + +"I didn't make any mistake in you, after all," he said. "You're a real +partner. You're the right stuff. I love you more than ever. If you +made a mistake you paid for it, like a dead-game sport. What's a few +months? We've all our life before us, and it's plain sailing now we've +got our bearings again." + +"Amen!" she whispered. "I--but, say, man of mine, you've been on the +trail, and I know what the trail is. You must be hungry. I've got all +kinds of goodies cooked in the kitchen. Take off your clothes, and +I'll get you something to eat." + +"I'll go you," he said. "I am hungry. Made a long mush to get here +for the night. I got six huskies running loose outside, so if you hear +'em scuffing around you'll know it's not the wolves. Say, it was some +welcome surprise to find a fire when I came in. Thought first somebody +traveling through had put up. Then I saw those slippers lying there. +That was sure making me take notice when you stepped out." + +He chuckled at the recollection. Hazel lit the lamp, and stirred up +the fire, plying it with wood. Then she slipped a heavy bath-robe over +her nightgown and went into the chilly kitchen, emerging therefrom +presently with a tray of food and a kettle of water to make coffee. +This she set on the fire. Wherever she moved Bill's eyes followed her +with a gleam of joy, tinctured with smiling incredulousness. When the +kettle was safely bestowed on the coals, he drew her on his knee. +There for a minute she perched in rich content. Then she rose. + +"Come very quietly with me, Bill," she whispered, with a fine air of +mystery. "I want to show you something." + +"Sure! What is it?" he asked. + +"Come and see," she smiled, and took up the lamp. Bill followed +obediently. + +Close up beside her bed stood a small, square crib. Hazel set the lamp +on a table, and turning to the bundle of blankets which filled this new +piece of furniture, drew back one corner, revealing a round, +puckered-up infant face. + +"For the love of Mike!" Bill muttered. "Is it--is it--" + +"It's our son," she whispered proudly. "Born the tenth of +January--three weeks ago to-day. Don't, don't--you great bear--you'll +wake him." + +For Bill was bending down to peer at the tiny morsel of humanity, with +a strange, abashed smile on his face, his big, clumsy fingers touching +the soft, pink cheeks. And when he stood up he drew a long breath, and +laid one arm across her shoulders. + +"Us two and the kid," he said whimsically. "It should be the hardest +combination in the world to bust. Are you happy, little person?" + +She nodded, clinging to him, wordlessly happy. And presently she +covered the baby's face, and they went back to sit before the great +fireplace, where the kettle bubbled cheerfully and the crackling blaze +sent forth its challenge to the bevy of frost sprites that held high +revel outside. + +And, after a time, the blaze died to a heap of glowing embers, and the +forerunning wind of a northeast storm soughed and whistled about a +house deep wrapped in contented slumber, a house no longer divided +against itself. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORTH OF FIFTY-THREE*** + + +******* This file should be named 19510.txt or 19510.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/5/1/19510 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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