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diff --git a/old/3241.txt b/old/3241.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..def0956 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/3241.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15781 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Corporal Cameron, by Ralph Connor + +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: Corporal Cameron + +Author: Ralph Connor + +Release Date: May 30, 2006 [EBook #3241] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CORPORAL CAMERON *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +CORPORAL CAMERON OF THE NORTH WEST MOUNTED POLICE + +A TALE OF THE MACLEOD TRAIL + + +By Ralph Connor + + + + +BOOK I + + +I THE QUITTER + +II THE GLEN OF THE CUP OF GOLD + +III THE FAMILY SOLICITOR + +IV A QUESTION OF HONOUR + +V A LADY AND THE LAW + +VI THE WASTER'S REFUGE + +VII FAREWELL TO CUAGH OIR + +VIII WILL HE COME BACK? + + +BOOK II + + +I HO FOR THE OPEN! + +II A MAN'S JOB + +III A DAY'S WORK + +IV A RAINY DAY + +V HOW THEY SAVED THE DAY + +VI A SABBATH DAY IN LATE AUGUST + +VII THE CHIVAREE + +VIII IN APPLE TIME + + +BOOK III + + +I THE CAMP BY THE GAP + +II ON THE WINGS OF THE STORM + +III THE STONIES + +IV THE DULL RED STAIN + +V SERGEANT CRISP + +VI A DAY IN THE MACLEOD BARRACKS + +VII THE MAKING OF BRAVES + +VIII NURSE HALEY + +IX "CORPORAL" CAMERON + + + + +CORPORAL CAMERON + + + + +BOOK ONE + + +CHAPTER I + +THE QUITTER + + +"Oh-h-h-h, Cam-er-on!" Agony, reproach, entreaty, vibrated in the clear +young voice that rang out over the Inverleith grounds. The Scottish +line was sagging!--that line invincible in two years of International +conflict, the line upon which Ireland and England had broken their +pride. Sagging! And because Cameron was weakening! Cameron, the +brilliant half-back, the fierce-fighting, erratic young Highlander, +disciplined, steadied by the great Dunn into an instrument of Scotland's +glory! Cameron going back! A hush fell on the thronged seats and packed +inner-circle,--a breathless, dreadful hush of foreboding. High over the +hushed silence that vibrant cry rang; and Cameron heard it. The voice he +knew. It was young Rob Dunn's, the captain's young brother, whose soul +knew but two passions, one for the captain and one for the half-back of +the Scottish International. + +And Cameron responded. The enemy's next high punt found him rock-like +in steadiness. And rock-like he tossed high over his shoulders the +tow-headed Welshman rushing joyously at him, and delivered his ball far +down the line safe into touch. But after his kick he was observed to +limp back into his place. The fierce pace of the Welsh forwards was +drinking the life of the Scottish backline. + +An hour; then a half; then another half, without a score. And now the +final quarter was searching, searching the weak spots in their line. The +final quarter it is that finds a man's history and habits; the clean of +blood and of life defy its pitiless probe, but the rotten fibre yields +and snaps. That momentary weakness of Cameron's like a subtle poison +runs through the Scottish line; and like fluid lightning through the +Welsh. It is the touch upon the trembling balance. With cries exultant +with triumph, the Welsh forwards fling themselves upon the steady Scots +now fighting for life rather than for victory. And under their captain's +directions these fierce, victory-sniffing Welsh are delivering their +attack upon the spot where he fancies he has found a yielding. In vain +Cameron rallies his powers; his nerve is failing him, his strength is +done. Only five minutes to play, but one minute is enough. Down upon +him through a broken field, dribbling the ball and following hard like +hounds on a hare, come the Welsh, the tow-head raging in front, bloody +and fearsome. There is but one thing for Cameron to do; grip that +tumbling ball, and, committing body and soul to fate, plunge into +that line. Alas, his doom is upon him! He grips the ball, pauses a +moment--only a fatal moment,--but it is enough. His plunge is too late. +He loses the ball. A surge of Welshmen overwhelm him in the mud and +carry the ball across. The game is won--and lost. What though the Scots, +like demons suddenly released from hell, the half-back Cameron most +demon-like of all, rage over the field, driving the Welshmen hither and +thither at will, the gods deny them victory; it is for Wales that day! + +In the retreat of their rubbing-room the gay, gallant humour which the +Scots have carried with them off the field of their defeat, vanishes +into gloom. Through the steaming silence a groan breaks now and then. At +length a voice: + +"Oh, wasn't it rotten! The rank quitter that he is!" + +"Quitter? Who is? Who says so?" It was the captain's voice, sharp with +passion. + +"I do, Dunn. It was Cameron lost us the game. You know it, too. I know +it's rotten to say this, but I can't help it. Cameron lost the game, and +I say he's a rank 'quitter,' as Martin would say." + +"Look here, Nesbitt," the captain's voice was quiet, but every man +paused in his rubbing. "I know how sore you are and I forgive you that; +but I don't want to hear from you or from any man on the team that word +again. Cameron is no quitter; he made--he made an error,--he wasn't +fit,--but I say to you Cameron is no quitter." + +While he was speaking the door opened and into the room came a player, +tall, lanky, with a pale, gaunt face, plastered over the forehead with +damp wisps of straight, black hair. His deep-set, blue-grey eyes swept +the room. + +"Thanks, Dunn," he said hoarsely. "Let them curse me! I deserve it all. +It's tough for them, but God knows I've got the worst of it. I've played +my last game." His voice broke huskily. + +"Oh, rot it, Cameron," cried Dunn. "Don't be an ass! Your first big +game--every fellow makes his mistake--" + +"Mistake! Mistake! You can't lie easily, Dunn. I was a fool and worse +than a fool. I let myself down and I wasn't fit. Anyway, I'm through +with it." His voice was wild and punctuated with unaccustomed oaths; his +breath came in great sobs. + +"Oh, rot it, Cameron!" again cried Dunn. "Next year you'll be twice the +man. You're just getting into your game." + +Right loyally his men rallied to their captain: + +"Right you are!" + +"Why, certainly; no man gets into the game first year!" + +"We'll give 'em beans next year, Cameron, old man!" + +They were all eager to atone for the criticism which all had held in +their hearts and which one of them had spoken. But this business was +serious. To lose a game was bad enough, but to round on a comrade was +unpardonable; while to lose from the game a half-back of Cameron's +calibre was unthinkable. + +Meanwhile Cameron was tearing off his football togs and hustling on his +clothes with fierce haste. Dunn kept his eye on him, hurrying his own +dressing and chatting quietly the while. But long before he was ready +for the street, Cameron had crushed his things into a bag and was +looking for his hat. + +"Hold on! I'm with you; I'm with you in a jiffy," said Dunn. + +"My hat," muttered Cameron, searching wildly among the jumble. + +"Oh, hang the hat; let it go! Wait for me, Cameron. Where are you +going?" cried Dunn. + +"To the devil," cried the lad, slamming the door behind him. + +"And, by Jove, he'll go, too!" said Nesbitt. "Say, I'm awfully sorry I +made that break, Dunn. It was beastly low-down to round on a chap like +that. I'll go after him." + +"Do, old chap! He's frightfully cut up. And get him for to-night. He +may fight shy of the dinner. But he's down for the pipes, you know, +and--well, he's just got to be there. Good-bye, you chaps; I'm off! +And--I say, men!" When Dunn said "men" they all knew it was their +captain that was speaking. Everybody stood listening. Dunn hesitated a +moment or two, as if searching for words. "About the dinner to-night: +I'd like you to remember--I mean--I don't want any man to--oh, hang it, +you know what I mean! There will be lots of fellows there who will want +to fill you up. I'd hate to see any of our team--" The captain paused +embarrassed. + +"We tumble, Captain," said Martin, a medical student from Canada, who +played quarter. "I'll keep an eye on 'em, you bet!" + +Everybody roared; for not only on the quarter-line but also at the +dinner table the little quarter-back was a marvel of endurance. + +"Hear the blooming Colonist!" said Linklater, Martin's comrade on +the quarter-line, and his greatest friend. "We know who'll want the +watching, but we'll see to him, Captain." + +"All right, old chap! Sorry I'll have to cut the van. I'm afraid my +governor's got the carriage here for me." + +But the men all made outcry. There were other plans for him. + +"But, Captain; hold on!" + +"Aw, now, Captain! Don't forsake us!" + +"But I say, Dunn, see us through; we're shy!" + +"Don't leave us, Captain, or you'll be sorry," sang out Martin. "Come +on, fellows, let's keep next him! We'll give him 'Old Grimes!'" + +Already a mighty roar was heard outside. The green, the drive, the +gateways, and the street were blocked with the wildest football fanatics +that Edinburgh, and all Scotland could produce. They were waiting for +the International players, and were bent on carrying their great captain +down the street, shoulder high; for the enthusiasm of the Scot reaches +the point of madness only in the hour of glorious defeat. But before +they were aware, Dunn had shouldered his mighty form through the +opposing crowds and had got safely into the carriage beside his father +and his young brother. But the crowd were bound to have him. + +"We want him, Docthor," said a young giant in a tam-o'-shanter. "In +fac', Docthor," he argued with a humourous smile, "we maun hae him." + +"Ye'll no' get him, Jock Murchison," shouted young Rob, standing in +front of his big brother. "We want him wi' us." + +The crowd laughed gleefully. + +"Go for him, Jock! You can easy lick him," said a voice encouragingly. + +"Pit him oot, Docthor," said Jock, who was a great friend of the family, +and who had a profound respect for the doctor. + +"It's beyond me, Jock, I fear. See yon bantam cock! I doubt ye'll hae to +be content," said the doctor, dropping into Jock's kindly Doric. + +"Oh, get on there, Murchison," said Dunn impatiently. "You're not going +to make an ass of me; make up your mind to that!" + +Jock hesitated, meditating a sudden charge, but checked by his respect +for Doctor Dunn. + +"Here, you fellows!" shouted a voice. "Fall in; the band is going to +play! Get into line there, you Tam-o'-shanter; you're stopping the +procesh! Now then, wait for the line, everybody!" It was Little Martin +on top of the van in which were the Scottish players. "Tune, 'Old +Grimes'; words as follows. Catch on, everybody!" + + "Old Dunn, old Dunn, old Dunn, old Dunn, + Old Dunn, old Dunn, old Dunn, + Old Dunn, old Dunn, old Dunn, old Dunn, + Old Dunn, old Dunn, old Dunn." + +With a delighted cheer the crowd formed in line, and, led by the little +quarter-back on top of the van, they set off down the street, two men at +the heads of the doctor's carriage horses, holding them in place behind +the van. On went the swaying crowd and on went the swaying chant, with +Martin, director of ceremonies and Dunn hurling unavailing objurgations +and entreaties at Jock's head. + +Through the uproar a girl's voice reached the doctor's ear: + +"Aren't they lovely, Sir?" + +The doctor turned to greet a young lady, tall, strong, and with the +beauty of perfect health rather than of classic feature in her face. +There was withal a careless disregard of the feminine niceties of dress. + +"Oh, Miss Brodie! Will you not come up? We can easily make room." + +"I'd just love to," cried the girl, "but I'm only a humble member of the +procession, following the band and the chariot wheels of the conqueror." +Her strong brown face was all aglow with ardour. + +"Conqueror!" growled Dunn. "Not much of a conqueror!" + +"Why not? Oh fudge! The game? What matters the game? It's the play we +care about." + +"Well spoken, lassie," said the doctor. "That's the true sport." + +"Aren't they awful?" cried Dunn. "Look at that young Canadian idiot up +there." + +"Well, if you ask me, I think he's a perfect dear," said Miss Brodie, +deliberately. "I'm sure I know him; anyway I'm going to encourage him +with my approval." And she waved her hand at Martin. + +The master of ceremonies responded by taking off his hat and making a +sweeping bow, still keeping up the beat. The crowd, following his eyes, +turned their attention to the young lady, much to Dunn's delight. + +"Oh," she gasped, "they'll be chanting me next! Good-bye! I'm off!" And +she darted back to the company of her friends marching on the pavement. + +At this point Martin held up both arms and called for silence. + +"Second verse," he shouted, "second verse! Get the words now!" + + "Old Dunn ain't done, old Dunn ain't done, + Old Dunn, old Dunn ain't done, + Old Dunn ain't done, old Dunn ain't done, + Old Dunn, old Dunn ain't done." + +But the crowd rejected the Colonial version, and rendered in their own +good Doric: + + "Old Dunn's no' done, old Dunn's no' done, + Old Dunn, old Dunn's no' done, + Old Dunn's no' done, old Dunn's no' done, + Old Dunn, old Dunn's no' done." + +And so they sang and swayed, following the van till they neared Queen +Street, down which lay the doctor's course. + +"For heaven's sake, can't they be choked off?" groaned Dunn. + +The doctor signalled Jock to him. + +"Jock," he said, "we'll just slip through at Queen Street." + +"We'd like awfully to do Princes Street, Sir," pleaded Jock. + +"Princes Street, you born ass!" cried Dunn wrathfully. + +"Oh, yes, let them!" cried young Rob, whose delight in the glory of +his hero had been beyond all measure. "Let them do Princes Street, just +once!" + +But the doctor would not have it. "Jock," he said quietly, "just get us +through at Queen Street." + +"All right, Sir," replied Jock with great regret. "It will be as you +say." + +Under Jock's orders, when Queen Street was reached, the men at the +horses' heads suddenly swung the pair from the crowd, and after some +struggling, got them safely into the clear space, leaving the procession +to follow the van, loudly cheering their great International captain, +whose prowess on the field was equalled only by his modesty and his +hatred of a demonstration. + +"Listen to the idiots," said Dunn in disgust, as the carriage bore them +away from the cheering crowd. + +"Man, they're just fine! Aren't they, Father?" said young Rob in an +ecstasy of joy. + +"They're generous lads, generous lads, boy," said Doctor Dunn, his old +eyes shining, for his son's triumph touched him deeply. "That's the only +way to take defeat." + +"That's all right, Sir," said Dunn quickly, "but it's rather +embarrassing, though it's awfully decent of them." + +The doctor's words suggested fresh thoughts to young Rob. "But it was +terrible; and you were just on the win, too, I know." + +"I'm not so sure at all," said his brother. + +"Oh, it is terrible," said Bob again. + +"Tut, tut, lad! What's so terrible?" said his father. "One side has to +lose." + +"Oh, it's not that," said Rob, his lip trembling. "I don't care a sniff +for the game." + +"What, then?" said his big brother in a voice sharpened by his own +thoughts. + +"Oh, Jack," said Rob, nervously wreathing his hands, "he--it looked as +if he--" the lad could not bring himself to say the awful word. Nor was +there need to ask who it was the boy had in mind. + +"What do you mean, Rob?" the captain's voice was impatient, almost +angry. + +Then Rob lost his control. "Oh, Jack, I can't help it; I saw it. Do +you think--did he really funk it?" His voice broke. He clutched his +brother's knee and stood with face white and quivering. He had given +utterance to the terrible suspicion that was torturing his heroic young +soul. Of his two household gods one was tottering on its pedestal. That +a football man should funk--the suspicion was too dreadful. + +The captain glanced at his father's face. There was gloom there, too, +and the same terrible suspicion. "No, Sir," said Dunn, with impressive +deliberation, answering the look on his father's face, "Cameron is +no quitter. He didn't funk. I think," he continued, while Rob's +tear-stained face lifted eagerly, "I know he was out of condition; he +had let himself run down last week, since the last match, indeed, got +out of hand a bit, you know, and that last quarter--you know, Sir, that +last quarter was pretty stiff--his nerve gave just for a moment." + +"Oh," said the doctor in a voice of relief, "that explains it. But," he +added quickly in a severe tone, "it was very reprehensible for a man on +the International to let himself get out of shape, very reprehensible +indeed. An International, mind you!" + +"It was my fault, Sir, I'm afraid," said Dunn, regretfully. "I ought to +have--" + +"Nonsense! A man must be responsible for himself. Control, to be of any +value, must be ultroneous, as our old professor used to say." + +"That's true, Sir, but I had kept pretty close to him up to the last +week, you see, and--" + +"Bad training, bad training. A trainer's business is to school his men +to do without him." + +"That is quite right, Sir. I believe I've been making a mistake," said +Dunn thoughtfully. "Poor chap, he's awfully cut up!" + +"So he should be," said the doctor sternly. "He had no business to get +out of condition. The International, mind you!" + +"Oh, Father, perhaps he couldn't help it," cried Rob, whose loyal, +tender heart was beating hard against his little ribs, "and he looks +awful. I saw him come out and when I called to him he never looked at me +once." + +There is no finer loyalty in this world than that of a boy below his +teens. It is so without calculation, without qualification, and without +reserve. Dr. Dunn let his eyes rest kindly upon his little flushed face. + +"Perhaps so, perhaps so, my boy," he said, "and I have no doubt he +regrets it now more than any of us. Where has he gone?" + +"Nesbitt's after him, Sir. He'll get him for to-night." + +But as Dunn, fresh from his bath, but still sore and stiff, was +indulging in a long-banished pipe, Nesbitt came in to say that Cameron +could not be found. + +"And have you not had your tub yet?" said his captain. + +"Oh, that's all right! You know I feel awfully about that beastly remark +of mine." + +"Oh, let it go," said Dunn. "That'll be all right. You get right away +home for your tub and get freshened up for to-night. I'll look after +Cameron. You know he is down for the pipes. He's simply got to be there +and I'll get him if I have to bring him in a crate, pipes, kilt and +all." + +And Nesbitt, knowing that Dunn never promised what he could not fulfil, +went off to his tub in fair content. He knew his captain. + +As Dunn was putting on his coat Rob came in, distress written on his +face. + +"Are you going to get Cameron, Jack?" he asked timidly. "I asked +Nesbitt, and he said--" + +"Now look here, youngster," said his big brother, then paused. The +distress in the lad's face checked his words. "Now, Rob," he said +kindly, "you needn't fret about this. Cameron is all right." + +The kind tone broke down the lad's control. He caught his brother's +arm. "Say, Jack, are you sure--he didn't--funk?" His voice dropped to a +whisper. + +Then his big brother sat down and drew the lad to his side, "Now listen, +Rob; I'm going to tell you the exact truth. CAMERON DID NOT FUNK. The +truth is, he wasn't fit,--he ought to have been, but he wasn't,--and +because he wasn't fit he came mighty near quitting--for a moment, I'm +sure, he felt like it, because his nerve was gone,--but he didn't. +Remember, he felt like quitting and didn't, And that's the finest thing +a chap can do,--never to quit, even when he feels like it. Do you see?" + +The lad's head went up. "I see," he said, his eyes glowing. "It was +fine! I'm awfully glad he didn't quit, 'specially when he felt like it. +You tell him for me." His idol was firm again on his pedestal. + +"All right, old chap," said his big brother. "You'll never quit, I bet!" + +"Not if I'm fit, will I?" + +"Right you are! Keep fit--that's the word!" + +And with that the big brother passed out to find the man who was +writhing in an agony of self-contempt; for in the face of all Scotland +and in the hour of her need he had failed because he wasn't fit. + +After an hour Dunn found his man, fixed in the resolve to there and then +abandon the game with all the appurtenances thereof, and among these the +dinner. Mightily his captain laboured with him, plying him with varying +motives,--the honour of the team was at stake; the honour of the country +was at stake; his own honour, for was he not down on the programme for +the pipes? It was all in vain. In dogged gloom the half-back listened +unmoved. + +At length Dunn, knowing well the Highlander's tender heart, cunningly +touched another string and told of Rob's distress and subsequent relief, +and then gave his half-back the boy's message. "I promised to tell you, +and I almost forgot. The little beggar was terribly worked up, and as +I remember it, this is what he said: 'I'm awfully glad he didn't quit, +'specially when he felt like it.' Those were his very words." + +Then Cameron buried his face in his hands and groaned aloud, while Dunn, +knowing that he had reached his utmost, stood silent, waiting. Suddenly +Cameron flung up his head: + +"Did he say I didn't quit? Good little soul! I'll go; I'd go through +hell for that!" + +And so it came that not in a crate, but in the gallant garb of a +Highland gentleman, pipes and all, Cameron was that night in his place, +fighting out through the long hilarious night the fiercest fight of his +life, chiefly because of the words that lay like a balm to his lacerated +heart: + +"He didn't quit, 'specially when he felt like it." + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE GLEN OF THE CUP OF GOLD + + +Just over the line of the Grampians, near the head-waters of the Spey, a +glen, small and secluded, lies bedded deep among the hills,--a glen that +when filled with sunlight on a summer day lies like a cup of gold; the +gold all liquid and flowing over the cup's rim. And hence they call the +glen "The Cuagh Oir," The Glen of the Cup of Gold. + +At the bottom of the Cuagh, far down, a little loch gleams, an oval of +emerald or of sapphire, according to the sky above that smiles into +its depths. On dark days the loch can gloom, and in storm it can rage, +white-lipped, just like the people of the Glen. + +Around the emerald or sapphire loch farmlands lie sunny and warm, set +about their steadings, and are on this spring day vivid with green, +or rich in their red-browns where the soil lies waiting for the seed. +Beyond the sunny fields the muirs of brown heather and bracken climb +abruptly up to the dark-massed firs, and they to the Cuagh's rim. But +from loch to rim, over field and muir and forest, the golden, liquid +light ever flows on a sunny day and fills the Cuagh Oir till it runs +over. + +On the east side of the loch, among some ragged firs, a rambling Manor +House, ivy-covered and ancient, stood; and behind it, some distance +away, the red tiling of a farm-cottage, with its steading clustering +near, could be seen. About the old Manor House the lawn and garden +told of neglect and decay, but at the farmhouse order reigned. The trim +little garden plot, the trim lawn, the trim walks and hedges, the trim +thatch of the roof, the trim do'-cote above it, the trim stables, byres, +barns and yard of the steading, proclaimed the prudent, thrifty care of +a prudent, thrifty soul. + +And there in the steading quadrangle, amidst the feathered creatures, +hens, cocks and chicks, ducks, geese, turkeys and bubbly-jocks, stood +the mistress of the Manor and prudent, thrifty manager of the farm,--a +girl of nineteen, small, well-made, and trim as the farmhouse and its +surroundings, with sunny locks and sunny face and sunny brown eyes. Her +shapely hands were tanned and coarsened by the weather; her little feet +were laced in stout country-made brogues; her dress was a plain brown +winsey, kilted and belted open at the full round neck; the kerchief that +had fallen from her sunny, tangled hair was of simple lawn, spotless +and fresh; among her fowls she stood, a country lass in habit and +occupation, but in face and form, in look and poise, a lady every inch +of her. Dainty and daunty, sweet and strong, she stood, "the bonny like +o' her bonny mither," as said the South Country nurse, Nannie, who had +always lived at the Glen Cuagh House from the time that that mother was +a baby; "but no' sae fine like," the nurse would add with a sigh. For +she remembered ever the gentle airs and the high-bred, stately grace of +Mary Robertson,--for though married to Captain Cameron of Erracht, +Mary Robertson she continued to be to the Glen folk,--the lady of her +ancestral manor, now for five years lain under the birch trees yonder by +the church tower that looked out from its clustering firs and birches +on the slope beyond the loch. Five years ago the gentle lady had passed +from them, but like the liquid, golden sunlight, and like the perfume of +the heather and the firs, the aroma of her saintly life still filled the +Glen. + +A year after that grief had fallen, Moira, her one daughter, "the bonny +like o' her bonny mither, though no' sae fine," had somehow slipped +into command of the House Farm, the only remaining portion of the wide +demesne of farmlands once tributary to the House. And by the thrift +which she learned from her South Country nurse in the care of her +poultry and her pigs, and by her shrewd oversight of the thriftless, +doddling Highland farmer and his more thriftless and more doddling +womenfolk, she brought the farm to order and to a basis of profitable +returns. And this, too, with so little "clash and claver" that her +father only knew that somehow things were more comfortable about the +place, and that there were fewer calls than formerly upon his purse +for the upkeep of the House and home. Indeed, the less appeared Moira's +management, both in the routine of the House and in the care of the +farm, the more peacefully flowed the current of their life. It seriously +annoyed the Captain at intervals when he came upon his daughter +directing operations in barnyard or byre. That her directing meant +anything more than a girlish meddling in matters that were his entire +concern and about which he had already given or was about to give +orders, the Captain never dreamed. That things about the House were +somehow prospering in late years he set down to his own skill and +management and his own knowledge of scientific farming; a knowledge +which, moreover, he delighted to display at the annual dinners of the +Society for the Improvement of Agriculture in the Glen, of which he was +honourary secretary; a knowledge which he aired in lengthy articles in +local agricultural and other periodicals; a knowledge which, however, +at times became the occasion of dismay to his thrifty daughter and her +Highland farmer, and not seldom the occasion of much useless expenditure +of guineas hard won from pigs and poultry. True, more serious loss was +often averted by the facility with which the Captain turned from one +scheme to another, happily forgetful of orders he had given and which +were never carried out; and by the invincible fabianism of the Highland +farmer, who, listening with gravest attention to the Captain's orders +delivered in the most definite and impressive terms, would make +reply, "Yess, yess indeed, I know; she will be attending to it +immediately--tomorrow, or fery soon whateffer." It cannot be said that +this capacity for indefinite procrastination rendered the Highlander any +less valuable to his "tear young leddy." + +The days on which Postie appeared with a large bundle of mail were +accounted good days by the young mistress, for on these and succeeding +days her father would be "busy with his correspondence." And these days +were not few, for the Captain held many honourary offices in county +and other associations for the promotion and encouragement of various +activities, industrial, social, and philanthropic. Of the importance of +these activities to the county and national welfare, the Captain had no +manner of doubt, as his voluminous correspondence testified. As to the +worth of his correspondence his daughter, too, held the highest +opinion, estimating her father, as do all dutiful daughters, at his own +valuation. For the Captain held himself in high esteem; not simply for +his breeding, which was of the Camerons of Erracht; nor for his manners, +which were of the most courtly, if occasionally marred by fretfulness; +nor for his dress, which was that of a Highland gentleman, perfect in +detail and immaculate, but for his many and public services rendered to +the people, the county, and the nation. Indeed his mere membership dues +to the various associations, societies and committees with which he +was connected, and his dining expenses contingent upon their annual +meetings, together with the amounts expended upon the equipment and +adornment of his person proper to such festive occasions, cut so deep +into the slender resources of the family as to give his prudent daughter +some considerable concern; though it is safe to say that such concern +her father would have regarded not only as unnecessary but almost as +impertinent. + +The Captain's correspondence, however extensive, was on the whole +regarded by his daughter as a good rather than an evil, in that it +secured her domestic and farm activities from disturbing incursions. +This spring morning Moira's apprehensions awakened by an extremely light +mail, were realized, as she beheld her father bearing down upon her +with an open letter in his hand. His handsome face was set in a fretful +frown. + +"Moira, my daughter!" he exclaimed, "how often have I spoke to you about +this--this--unseemly--ah--mussing and meddling in the servants' duties!" + +"But, Papa," cried his daughter, "look at these dear things! I love them +and they all know me, and they behave so much better when I feed them +myself. Do they not, Janet?" she added, turning to the stout and sonsy +farmer's daughter standing by. + +"Indeed, then, they are clever at knowing you," replied the maid, whose +particular duty was to hold a reserve supply of food for the fowls that +clamoured and scrambled about her young mistress. + +"Look at that vain bubbly-jock there, Papa," cried Moira, "he loves to +have me notice him. Conceited creature! Look out, Papa, he does not like +your kilts!" The bubbly-jock, drumming and scraping and sidling ever +nearer to the Captain's naked knees, finally with great outcry flew +straight at the affronting kilts. + +"Get off with you, you beast!" cried the Captain, kicking vainly at the +wrathful bird, and at the same time beating a wise retreat before his +onset. + +Moira rushed to his rescue. "Hoot, Jock! Shame on ye!" she cried. "There +now, you proud thing, be off! He's just jealous of your fine appearance, +Papa." With her kerchief she flipped into submission the haughty +bubbly-jock and drew her father out of the steading. "Come away, Papa, +and see my pigs." + +But the Captain was in no humour for pigs. "Nonsense, child," he cried, +"let us get out of this mess! Besides, I wish to speak to you on a +matter of importance." They passed through the gate. "It is about +Allan," he continued, "and I'm really vexed. Something terrible has +happened." + +"Allan!" the girl's voice was faint and her sunny cheek grew white. +"About Allan!" she said again. "And what is wrong with Allan, Papa?" + +"That's what I do not know," replied her father fretfully; "but I +must away to Edinburgh this very day, so you'll need to hasten with my +packing. And bid Donald bring round the cart at once." + +But Moira stood dazed. "But, Papa, you have not told me what is wrong +with Allan." Her voice was quiet, but with a certain insistence in it +that at once irritated her father and compelled his attention. + +"Tut, tut, Moira, I have just said I do not know." + +"Is he ill, Papa?" Again the girl's voice grew faint. + +"No, no, not ill. I wish he were! I mean it is some business matter you +cannot understand. But it must be serious if Mr. Rae asks my presence +immediately. So you must hasten, child." + +In less than half an hour Donald and the cart were waiting at the door, +and Moira stood in the hall with her father's bag ready packed. "Oh, I +am glad," she said, as she helped her father with his coat, "that Allan +is not ill. There can't be much wrong." + +"Wrong! Read that, child!" cried the father impatiently. + +She took the letter and read, her face reflecting her changing emotions, +perplexity, surprise, finally indignation. "'A matter for the police,'" +she quoted, scornfully, handing her father the letter. "'A matter for +the police' indeed! My but that Mr. Rae is the clever man! The police! +Does he think my brother Allan would cheat?--or steal, perhaps!" she +panted, in her indignant scorn. + +"Mr. Rae is a careful man and a very able lawyer," replied her father. + +"Able! Careful! He's an auld wife, and that's what he is! You can tell +him so for me." She was trembling and white with a wrath her father had +never before seen in her. He stood gazing at her in silent surprise. + +"Papa," cried Moira passionately, answering his look, "do you think what +he is saying? I know my brother Allan clean through to the heart. He +is wild at times, and might rage perhaps and--and--break things, but he +will not lie nor cheat. He will die first, and that I warrant you." + +Still her father stood gazing upon her as she stood proudly erect, +her pale face alight with lofty faith in her brother and scorn of his +traducer. "My child, my child," he said, huskily, "how like you are to +your mother! Thank God! Indeed it may be you're right! God grant it!" He +drew her closely to him. + +"Papa, Papa," she whispered, clinging to him, while her voice broke in a +sob, "you know Allan will not lie. You know it, don't you, Papa?" + +"I hope not, dear child, I hope not," he replied, still holding her to +him. + +"Papa," she cried wildly, "say you believe me." + +"Yes, yes, I do believe you. Thank God, I do believe you. The boy is +straight." + +At that word she let him go. That her father should not believe in Allan +was to her loyal heart an intolerable pain. Now Allan would have someone +to stand for him against "that lawyer" and all others who might seek to +do him harm. At the House door she stood watching her father drive down +through the ragged firs to the highroad, and long after he had passed +out of sight she still stood gazing. Upon the church tower rising out of +its birches and its firs her eyes were resting, but her heart was +with the little mound at the tower's foot, and as she gazed, the tears +gathered and fell. + +"Oh, Mother!" she whispered. "Mother, Mother! You know Allan would not +lie!" + +A sudden storm was gathering. In a brief moment the world and the Glen +had changed. But half an hour ago and the Cuagh Oir was lying glorious +with its flowing gold. Now, from the Cuagh as from her world, the +flowing gold was gone. + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE FAMILY SOLICITOR + + +The senior member of the legal firm of Rae & Macpherson was perplexed +and annoyed, indeed angry, and angry chiefly because he was perplexed. +He resented such a condition of mind as reflecting upon his legal and +other acumen. Angry, too, he was because he had been forced to accept, +the previous day, a favour from a firm--Mr. Rae would not condescend to +say a rival firm--with which he for thirty years had maintained only +the most distant and formal relations, to wit, the firm of Thomlinson & +Shields. Messrs. Rae & Macpherson were family solicitors and for three +generations had been such; hence there gathered about the firm a fine +flavour of assured respectability which only the combination of solid +integrity and undoubted antiquity can give. Messrs. Rae & Macpherson had +not yielded in the slightest degree to that commercialising spirit +which would transform a respectable and self-respecting firm of family +solicitors into a mere financial agency; a transformation which Mr. Rae +would consider a degradation of an ancient and honourable profession. +This uncompromising attitude toward the commercialising spirit of the +age had doubtless something to do with their losing the solicitorship +for the Bank of Scotland, which went to the firm of Thomlinson & +Shields, to Mr. Rae's keen, though unacknowledged, disappointment; +a disappointment that arose not so much from the loss of the very +honourable and lucrative appointment, and more from the fact that the +appointment should go to such a firm as that of Thomlinson & Shields. +For the firm of Thomlinson & Shields were of recent origin, without +ancestry, boasting an existence of only some thirty-five years, and, as +one might expect of a firm of such recent origin, characterised by the +commercialising modern spirit in its most pronounced and objectionable +form. Mr. Rae, of course, would never condescend to hostile criticism, +dismissing Messrs. Thomlinson & Shields from the conversation with the +single remark, "Pushing, Sir, very pushing, indeed." + +It was, then, no small humiliation for Mr. Rae to be forced to accept +a favour from Mr. Thomlinson. "Had it been any other than Cameron," he +said to himself, as he sat in his somewhat dingy and dusty office, +"I would let him swither. But Cameron! I must see to it and at once." +Behind the name there rose before Mr. Rae's imagination a long line +of brave men and fair women for whose name and fame and for whose good +estate it had been his duty and the duty of those who had preceded him +in office to assume responsibility. + +"Young fool! Much he cares for the honour of his family! I wonder what's +at the bottom of this business! Looks ugly! Decidedly ugly! The first +thing is to find him." A messenger had failed to discover young Cameron +at his lodgings, and had brought back the word that for a week he +had not been seen there. "He must be found. They have given me till +to-morrow. I cannot ask a further stay of proceedings; I cannot and I +will not." It made Mr. Rae more deeply angry that he knew quite well +if necessity arose he would do just that very thing. "Then there's his +father coming in this evening. We simply must find him. But how and +where?" + +Mr. Rae was not unskilled in such a matter. "Find a man, find his +friends," he muttered. "Let's see. What does the young fool do? What +are his games? Ah! Football! I have it! Young Dunn is my man." Hence to +young Dunn forthwith Mr. Rae betook himself. + +It was still early in the day when Mr. Rae's mild, round, jolly, +clean-shaven face beamed in upon Mr. Dunn, who sat with dictionaries, +texts, and class notebooks piled high about him, burrowing in that +mound of hidden treasure which it behooves all prudent aspirants for +university honours to diligently mine as the fateful day approaches. +With Mr. Dunn time had now come to be measured by moments, and every +moment golden. But the wrathful impatience that had gathered in his +face at the approach of an intruder was overwhelmed in astonishment at +recognising so distinguished a visitor as Mr. Rae the Writer. + +"Ah, Mr. Dunn," said Mr. Rae briskly, "a moment only, one moment, I +assure you. Well do I know the rage which boils behind that genial smile +of yours. Don't deny it, Sir. Have I not suffered all the pangs, with +just a week before the final ordeal? This is your final, I believe?" + +"I hope so," said Mr. Dunn somewhat ruefully. + +"Yes, yes, and a very fine career, a career befitting your father's +son. And I sincerely trust, Sir, that as your career has been marked by +honour, your exit shall be with distinction; and all the more that I am +not unaware of your achievements in another department of--ah--shall I +say endeavour. I have seen your name, Sir, mentioned more than once, +to the honour of our university, in athletic events." At this point Mr. +Rae's face broke into a smile. + +An amazing smile was Mr. Rae's; amazing both in the suddenness of +its appearing and in the suddenness of its vanishing. Upon a face of +supernatural gravity, without warning, without beginning, the smile, +broad, full and effulgent, was instantaneously present. Then equally +without warning and without fading the smile ceased to be. Under its +effulgence the observer unfamiliar with Mr. Rae's smile was moved, to a +responsive geniality of expression, but in the full tide of this emotion +he found himself suddenly regarding a face of such preternatural gravity +as rebuked the very possibility or suggestion of geniality. Before the +smile Mr. Rae's face was like a house, with the shutters up and the +family plunged in gloom. When the smile broke forth every shutter was +flung wide to the pouring sunlight, and every window full of flowers +and laughing children. Then instantly and without warning the house +was blank, lifeless, and shuttered once more, leaving you helplessly +apologetic that you had ever been guilty of the fatuity of associating +anything but death and gloom with its appearance. + +To young Mr. Dunn it was extremely disconcerting to discover himself +smiling genially into a face of the severest gravity, and eyes that +rebuked him for his untimely levity. "Oh, I beg pardon," exclaimed Mr. +Dunn hastily, "I thought--" + +"Not at all, Sir," replied Mr. Rae. "As I was saying, I have observed +from time to time the distinctions you have achieved in the realm of +athletics. And that reminds me of my business with you to-day,--a sad +business, a serious business, I fear." The solemn impressiveness of +Mr. Rae's manner awakened in Mr. Dunn an awe amounting to dread. "It is +young Cameron, a friend of yours, I believe, Sir." + +"Cameron, Sir!" echoed Dunn. + +"Yes, Cameron. Does he, or did he not have a place on your team?" + +Dunn sat upright and alert. "Yes, Sir. What's the matter, Sir?" + +"First of all, do you know where he is? I have tried his lodgings. He is +not there. It is important that I find him to-day, extremely important; +in fact, it is necessary; in short, Mr. Dunn,--I believe I can confide +in your discretion,--if I do not find him to-day, the police will +to-morrow." + +"The police, Sir!" Dunn's face expressed an awful fear. In the heart of +the respectable Briton the very mention of the police in connection +with the private life of any of his friends awakens a feeling of gravest +apprehension. No wonder Mr. Dunn's face went pale! "The police!" he said +a second time. "What for?" + +Mr. Rae remained silent. + +"If it is a case of debts, Sir," suggested Mr. Dunn, "why, I would +gladly--" + +Mr. Rae waved him aside. "It is sufficient to say, Mr. Dunn, that we are +the family solicitors, as we have been for his father, his grandfather +and great-grandfather before him." + +"Oh, certainly, Sir. I beg pardon," said Mr. Dunn hastily. + +"Not at all; quite proper; does you credit. But it is not a case of +debts, though it is a case of money; in fact, Sir,--I feel sure I may +venture to confide in you,--he is in trouble with his bank, the Bank +of Scotland. The young man, or someone using his name, has been guilty +of--ah--well, an irregularity, a decided irregularity, an irregularity +which the bank seems inclined to--to--follow up; indeed, I may say, +instructions have been issued through their solicitors to that effect. +Mr. Thomlinson was good enough to bring this to my attention, and to +offer a stay of proceedings for a day." + +"Can I do anything, Sir?" said Dunn. "I'm afraid I've neglected him. The +truth is, I've been in an awful funk about my exams, and I haven't kept +in touch as I should." + +"Find him, Mr. Dunn, find him. His father is coming to town this +evening, which makes it doubly imperative. Find him; that is, if you can +spare the time." + +"Of course I can. I'm awfully sorry I've lost touch with him. He's been +rather down all this winter; in fact, ever since the International he +seems to have lost his grip of himself." + +"Ah, indeed!" said Mr. Rae. "I remember that occasion; in fact, I was +present myself," he admitted. "I occasionally seek to renew my youth." +Mr. Rae's smile broke forth, but anxiety for his friend saved Mr. +Dunn from being caught again in any responsive smile. "Bring him to my +office, if you can, any time to-day. Good-bye, Sir. Your spirit does you +credit. But it is the spirit which I should expect in a man who plays +the forward line as you play it." + +Mr. Dunn blushed crimson. "Is there anything else I could do? Anyone I +could see? I mean, for instance, could my father serve in any way?" + +"Ah, a good suggestion!" Mr. Rae seized his right ear,--a characteristic +action of his when in deep thought,--twisted it into a horn, and pulled +it quite severely as if to assure himself that that important feature +of his face was firmly fixed in its place. "A very good suggestion! Your +father knows Mr. Sheratt, the manager of the bank, I believe." + +"Very well, Sir, I think," answered Mr. Dunn. "I am sure he would see +him. Shall I call him in, Sir?" + +"Nothing of the sort, nothing of the sort; don't think of it! I mean, +let there be nothing formal in this matter. If Mr. Dunn should chance to +meet Mr. Sheratt, that is, casually, so to speak, and if young Cameron's +name should come up, and if Mr. Dunn should use his influence, his very +great influence, with Mr. Sheratt, the bank might be induced to take a +more lenient view of the case. I think I can trust you with this." Mr. +Rae shook the young man warmly by the hand, beamed on him for one brief +moment with his amazing smile, presented to his answering smile a face +of unspeakable gravity, and left him extremely uncertain as to the +proper appearance for his face, under the circumstances. + +Before Mr. Rae had gained the street Dunn was planning his campaign; for +no matter what business he had in hand, Dunn always worked by plan. By +the time he himself had reached the street his plan was formed. "No use +trying his digs. Shouldn't be surprised if that beast Potts has got +him. Rotten bounder, Potts, and worse! Better go round his way." And +oscillating in his emotions between disgust and rage at Cameron for his +weakness and his folly, and disgust and rage at himself for his neglect +of his friend, Dunn took his way to the office of the Insurance Company +which was honoured by the services of Mr. Potts. + +The Insurance Company knew nothing of the whereabouts of Mr. Potts. +Indeed, the young man who assumed responsibility for the information +appeared to treat the very existence of Mr. Potts as a matter of slight +importance to his company; so slight, indeed, that the company had not +found it necessary either to the stability of its business or to the +protection of its policy holders--a prime consideration with Insurance +Companies--to keep in touch with Mr. Potts. That gentleman had left for +the East coast a week ago, and that was the end of the matter as far as +the clerk of the Insurance Company was concerned. + +At his lodgings Mr. Dunn discovered an even more callous indifference to +Mr. Potts and his interests. The landlady, under the impression that +in Mr. Dunn she beheld a prospective lodger, at first received him with +that deferential reserve which is the characteristic of respectable +lodging-house keepers in that city of respectable lodgers and +respectable lodging-house keepers. When, however, she learned the real +nature of Mr. Dunn's errand, she became immediately transformed. In a +voice shrill with indignation she repudiated Mr. Potts and his affairs, +and seemed chiefly concerned to re-establish her own reputation for +respectability, which she seemed to consider as being somewhat shattered +by that of her lodger. Mr. Dunn was embarrassed both by her volubility +and by her obvious determination to fasten upon him a certain amount of +responsibility for the character and conduct of Mr. Potts. + +"Do you know where Mr. Potts is now, and have you any idea when he may +return?" inquired Mr. Dunn, seizing a fortunate pause. + +"Am I no' juist tellin' ye," cried the landlady, in her excitement +reverting to her native South Country dialect, "that I keep nae coont o' +Mr. Potts' stravagins? An' as to his return, I ken naething aboot that +an' care less. He's paid what he's been owing me these three months an' +that's all I care aboot him." + +"I am glad to hear that," said Mr. Dunn heartily. + +"An' glad I am tae, for it's feared I was for my pay a month back." + +"When did he pay up?" inquired Mr. Dunn, scenting a clue. + +"A week come Saturday,--or was it Friday?--the day he came in with a +young man, a friend of his. And a night they made of it, I remember," +replied the landlady, recovering command of herself and of her speech +under the influence of Mr. Dunn's quiet courtesy. + +"Did you know the young man that was with him?" + +"Yes, it was young Cameron. He had been coming about a good deal." + +"Oh, indeed! And have you seen Mr. Cameron since?" + +"No; he never came except in company with Mr. Potts." + +And with this faint clue Mr. Dunn was forced to content himself, and to +begin a systematic search of Cameron's haunts in the various parts of +the town. It was Martin, his little quarter-back, that finally put him +on the right track. He had heard Cameron's pipes not more than an hour +ago at his lodgings in Morningside Road. + +"But what do you want of Cameron these days?" inquired the young +Canadian. "There's nothing on just now, is there, except this infernal +grind?" + +Dunn hesitated. "Oh, I just want him. In fact, he has got into some +trouble." + +"There you are!" exclaimed Martin in disgust. "Why in thunder should +you waste time on him? You've taken enough trouble with him this winter +already. It's his own funeral, ain't it?" + +Dunn looked at him a half moment in surprise. "Well, you can't go back +on a fellow when he's down, can you?" + +"Look here, Dunn, I've often thought I'd give you a little wise advice. +This sounds bad, I know, but there's a lot of blamed rot going around +this old town just on this point. When a fellow gets on the bum and gets +into a hole he knows well that there'll be a lot of people tumbling over +each other to get him out, hence he deliberately and cheerfully slides +in. If he knew he'd have to scramble out himself he wouldn't be so +blamed keen to get in. If he's in a hole let him frog it for awhile, by +Jingo! He's hitting the pace, let him take his bumps! He's got to take +'em sooner or later, and better sooner than later, for the sooner he +takes 'em the quicker he'll learn. Bye-bye! I know you think I'm a +semi-civilised Colonial. I ain't; I'm giving you some wisdom gained from +experience. You can't swim by hanging on to a root, you bet!" + +Dunn listened in silence, then replied slowly, "I say, old chap, there's +something in that. My governor said something like that some time ago: +'A trainer's business is to train his men to do without him.'" + +"There you are!" cried Martin. "That's philosophy! Mine's just horse +sense." + +"Still," said Dunn thoughtfully, "when a chap's in you've got to lend +a hand; you simply can't stand and look on." Dunn's words, tone, and +manner revealed the great, honest heart of human sympathy which he +carried in his big frame. + +"Oh, hang it," cried Martin, "I suppose so! Guess I'll go along with +you. I can't forget you pulled me out, too." + +"Thanks, old chap," cried Dunn, brightening up, "but you're busy, and--" + +"Busy! By Jingo, you'd think so if you'd watch me over night and hear my +brain sizzle. But come along, I'm going to stay with you!" + +But Dunn's business was private, and could be shared with no one. It was +difficult to check his friend's newly-aroused ardour. "I say, old chap," +he said, "you really don't need to come along. I can do--" + +"Oh, go to blazes! I know you too well! Don't you worry about me! You've +got me going, and I'm in on this thing; so come along!" + +Then Dunn grew firm. "Thanks, awfully, old man," he said, "but it's a +thing I'd rather do alone, if you don't mind." + +"Oh!" said Martin. "All right! But say, if you need me I'm on. You're a +great old brick, though! Tra-la!" + +As Martin had surmised, Dunn found Cameron in his rooms. He was lying +upon his bed enjoying the luxury of a cigarette. "Hello! Come right +in, old chap!" he cried, in gay welcome. "Have a--no, you won't have a +cigarette--have a pipe?" + +Dunn gazed at him, conscious of a rising tide of mingled emotions, +relief, wrath, pity, disgust. "Well, I'll be hanged!" at last he said +slowly. "But you've given us a chase! Where in the world have you been?" + +"Been? Oh, here and there, enjoying my emancipation from the thralldom +in which doubtless you are still sweating." + +"And what does that mean exactly?" + +"Mean? It means that I've cut the thing,--notebooks, lectures, +professors, exams, 'the hale hypothick,' as our Nannie would say at +home." + +"Oh rot, Cameron! You don't mean it?" + +"Circumspice. Do you behold any suggestion of knotted towels and the +midnight oil?" + +Dunn gazed about the room. It was in a whirl of confusion. Pipes and +pouches, a large box of cigarettes, a glass and a half-empty decanter, +were upon the table; boots, caps, golf-clubs, coats, lay piled in +various corners. "Pardon the confusion, dear sir," cried Cameron +cheerfully, "and lay it not to the charge of my landlady. That estimable +woman was determined to make entry this afternoon, but was denied." +Cameron's manner one of gay and nervous bravado. + +"Come, Cameron," said Dunn sadly, "what does this mean? You're not +serious; you're not chucking your year?" + +"Just that, dear fellow, and nothing less. Might as well as be +ploughed." + +"And what then are you going to do?" Dunn's voice was full of a great +pity. "What about your people? What about your father? And, by Jove, +that reminds me, he's coming to town this evening. You know they've been +trying to find you everywhere this last day or two." + +"And who are 'they,' pray?" + +"Who? The police," said Dunn bluntly, determined to shock his friend +into seriousness. + +Cameron sat up quickly. "The police? What do you mean, Dunn?" + +"What it means I do not know, Cameron, I assure you. Don't you?" + +"The police!" said Cameron again. "It's a joke, Dunn." + +"I wish to Heaven it were, Cameron, old man! But I have it straight from +Mr. Rae, your family solicitor. They want you." + +"Old Rae?" exclaimed Cameron. "Now what the deuce does this all mean?" + +"Don't you really know, old chap?" said Dunn kindly, anxiety and relief +struggling in his face. + +"No more than you. What did the old chap say, anyway?" + +"Something about a Bank; an irregularity, he called it, a serious +irregularity. He's had it staved off for a day." + +"The Bank? What in Heaven's name have I got to do with the Bank? Let's +see; I was there a week or ten days ago with--" he paused. "Hang it, +I can't remember!" He ran his hands through his long black locks, and +began to pace the room. + +Dunn sat watching him, hope and fear, doubt and faith filling his heart +in succession. + +Cameron sat down with his face in his hands. "What is it, old man? Can't +I help you?" said Dunn, putting his hand on his shoulder. + +"I can't remember," muttered Cameron. "I've been going it some, you +know. I had been falling behind and getting money off Potts. Two weeks +ago I got my monthly five-pound cheque, and about ten days ago the usual +fifty-pound cheque to square things up for the year, fees, etc. Seems to +me I cashed those. Or did Potts? Anyway I paid Potts. The deuce take it, +I can't remember! You know I can carry a lot of Scotch and never show +it, but it plays the devil with my memory." Cameron was growing more and +more excited. + +"Well, old chap, we must go right along to Mr. Rae's office. You don't +mind?" + +"Mind? Not a bit. Old Rae has no love for me,--I get him into too much +trouble,--but he's a straight old boy. Just wait till I brush up a bit." +He poured out from a decanter half a glass of whiskey. + +"I'd cut that out if I were you," said Dunn. + +"Later, perhaps," replied Cameron, "but not to-day." + +Within twenty minutes they were ushered into Mr. Rae's private office. +That gentleman received them with a gravity that was portentous in its +solemnity. "Well, Sir, you have succeeded in your task," he said to Mr. +Dunn. "I wish to thank you for this service, a most valuable service to +me, to this young gentleman, and to his family; though whether much may +come of it remains to be seen." + +"Oh, thanks," said Dunn hurriedly. "I hope everything will be all +right." He rose to go. Cameron looked at him quickly. There was no +mistaking the entreaty in his face. + +Mr. Rae spoke somewhat more hurriedly than his wont. "If it is not +asking too much, and if you can still spare time, your presence might be +helpful, Mr. Dunn." + +"Stay if you can, old chap," said Cameron. "I don't know what this thing +is, but I'll do better if you're in the game, too." It was an appeal to +his captain, and after that nothing on earth could have driven Dunn from +his side. + +At this point the door opened and the clerk announced, "Captain Cameron, +Sir." + +Mr. Rae rose hastily. "Tell him," he said quickly, "to wait--" + +He was too late. The Captain had followed close upon the heels of the +clerk, and came in with a rush. "Now, what does all this mean?" +he cried, hardly waiting to shake hands with his solicitor. "What +mischief--?" + +"I beg your pardon, Captain," said Mr. Rae calmly, "let me present Mr. +Dunn, Captain Dunn, I might say, of International fame." The solicitor's +smile broke forth with its accustomed unexpectedness, but had vanished +long before Mr. Dunn in his embarrassment had finished shaking hands +with Captain Cameron. + +The Captain then turned to his son. "Well, Sir, and what is this affair +of yours that calls me to town at a most inconvenient time?" His tone +was cold, fretful, and suspicious. + +Young Cameron's face, which had lighted up with a certain eagerness +and appeal as he had turned toward his father, as if in expectation of +sympathy and help, froze at this greeting into sullen reserve. "I don't +know any more than yourself, Sir," he answered. "I have just come into +this office this minute." + +"Well, then, what is it, Mr. Rae?" The Captain's voice and manner were +distinctly imperious, if not overbearing. + +Mr. Rae, however, was king of his own castle. "Will you not be seated, +Sir?" he said, pointing to a chair. "Sit down, young gentlemen." + +His quiet dignity, his perfect courtesy, recalled the Captain to +himself. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Rae, but I am really much disturbed. +Can we begin at once?" He glanced as he spoke at Mr. Dunn, who +immediately rose. + +"Sit down, Mr. Dunn," said Mr. Rae quietly. "I have asked this young +gentleman," he continued, turning to the Captain, "to remain. He has +already given me valuable assistance. I fancy he may be able to serve us +still further, if he will be so good." + +Mr. Dunn bowed in silence. + +"Now let us proceed with what must be an exceedingly painful matter for +us all, and out of which nothing but extreme candour on the part of Mr. +Allan here, and great wisdom on the part of us all, can possibly extract +us." Mr. Rae's glance rested upon the Captain, who bowed, and upon his +son, who made no sign whatever, but remained with his face set in the +same sullen gloom with which he had greeted his father. + +Mr. Rae opened a drawer and brought forth a slip of paper. "Mr. Allan," +he said, with a certain sharpness in his tone, "please look at this." + +Cameron came to the desk, picked up the paper, glanced at it. "It is my +father's cheque," he said, "which I received about a week ago." + +"Look at the endorsement, please," said Mr. Rae. + +Cameron turned it over. A slight flush came to his pale face. "It is +mine to--" he hesitated, "Mr. Potts." + +"Mr. Potts cashed it then?" + +"I suppose so. I believe so. I owed him money, and he gave me back +some." + +"How much did you owe him?" + +"A considerable amount. I had been borrowing of him for some time." + +"As much as fifty pounds?" + +"I cannot tell. I did not keep count, particularly; Potts did that." + +The Captain snorted contemptuously. "Do you mean to say--?" he began. + +"Pardon me, Captain Cameron. Allow me," said Mr. Rae. + +"Now, Mr. Allan, do you think you owed him as much as the amount of that +cheque?" + +"I do not know, but I think so." + +"Had you any other money?" + +"No," said Allan shortly; "at least I may have had a little remaining +from the five pounds I had received from my father a few days before." + +"You are quite sure you had no other money?" + +"Quite certain," replied Allan. + +Again Mr. Rae opened his desk and drew forth a slip and handed it to +young Cameron. "What is that?" he said. + +Cameron glanced at it hurriedly, and turned it over. "That is my +father's cheque for five pounds, which I cashed." + +Mr. Rae stretched out his hand and took the cheque. "Mr. Allan," he +said, "I want you to consider most carefully your answer." He leaned +across the desk and for some moments--they seemed like minutes to +Dunn--his eyes searched young Cameron's face. "Mr. Allan," he said, with +a swift change of tone, his voice trembling slightly, "will you look at +the amount of that cheque again?" + +Cameron once more took the cheque, glanced at it. "Good Lord!" he cried. +"It is fifty!" His face showed blank amazement. + +Quick, low, and stern came Mr. Rae's voice. "Yes," he said, "it is for +fifty pounds. Do you know that that is a forgery, the punishment for +which is penal servitude, and that the order for your arrest is already +given?" + +The Captain sprang to his feet. Young Cameron's face became ghastly +pale. His hand clutched the top of Mr. Rae's desk. Twice or thrice he +moistened his lips preparing to speak, but uttered not a word. "Good +God, my boy!" said the Captain hoarsely. "Don't stand like that. Tell +him you are innocent." + +"One moment, Sir," said Mr. Rae to the Captain. "Permit me." Mr. Rae's +voice, while perfectly courteous, was calmly authoritative. + +"Mr. Allan," he continued, turning to the wretched young man, "what +money have you at present in your pockets?" + +With shaking hands young Cameron emptied upon the desk the contents of +his pocketbook, from which the lawyer counted out ten one-pound notes, +a half-sovereign and some silver. "Where did you get this money, Mr. +Allan?" + +The young man, still silent, drew his handkerchief from his pocket, +touched his lips, and wiped the sweat from his white face. + +"Mr. Allan," continued the lawyer, dropping again into a kindly voice, +"a frank explanation will help us all." + +"Mr. Rae," said Cameron, his words coming with painful indistinctness, +"I don't understand this. I can't think clearly. I can't remember. That +money I got from Potts; at least I must have--I have had money from no +one else." + +"My God!" cried the Captain again. "To think that a son of mine +should--!" + +"Pardon me, Captain Cameron," interrupted Mr. Rae quickly and somewhat +sharply. "We must not prejudge this case. We must first understand it." + +At this point Dunn stepped swiftly to Cameron's side. "Brace up, old +chap," he said in a low tone. Then turning towards the Captain he said, +"I beg your pardon, Sir, but I do think it's only fair to give a man a +chance to explain." + +"Allow me, gentlemen," said Mr. Rae in a firm, quiet voice, as +the Captain was about to break forth. "Allow me to conduct this +examination." + +Cameron turned his face toward Dunn. "Thank you, old man," he said, +his white lips quivering. "I will do my best, but before God, I don't +understand this." + +"Now, Mr. Allan," continued the lawyer, tapping the desk sharply, +"here are two cheques for fifty pounds, both drawn by your father, both +endorsed by you, one apparently cashed by Mr. Potts, one by yourself. +What do you know about this?" + +"Mr. Rae," replied the young man, his voice trembling and husky, "I tell +you I can't understand this. I ought to say that for the last two weeks +I haven't been quite myself, and whiskey always makes me forget. I can +walk around steadily enough, but I don't always know what I am doing--" + +"That's so, Sir," said Dunn quickly, "I've seen him." + +"--And just what happened with these cheques I do not know. This +cheque," picking up the one endorsed to Potts, "I remember giving to +Potts. The only other cheque I remember is a five-pound one." + +"Do you remember cashing that five-pound cheque?" inquired Mr. Rae. + +"I carried it about for some days. I remember that, because I once +offered it to Potts in part payment, and he said--" the white face +suddenly flushed a deep red. + +"Well, Mr. Allan, what did he say?" + +"It doesn't matter," said Cameron. + +"It may and it may not," said Mr. Rae sharply. "It is your duty to tell +us." + +"Out with it," said his father angrily. "You surely owe it to me, to us +all, to let us have every assistance." + +Cameron paid no attention to his father's words. "It has really no +bearing, Sir, but I remember saying as I offered a five-pound cheque, 'I +wish it was fifty.'" + +"And what reply did Mr. Potts make?" said Mr. Rae, with quiet +indifference, as if he had lost interest in this particular feature of +the case. + +Again Cameron hesitated. + +"Come, out with it!" said his father impatiently. + +His son closed his lips as if in a firm resolve. "It really has nothing +whatever to do with the case." + +"Play the game, old man," said Dunn quietly. + +"Oh, all right!" said Cameron. "It makes no difference anyway. He said +in a joke, 'You could easily make this fifty; it is such mighty poor +writing.'" + +Still Mr. Rae showed no sign of interest. "He suggested in a joke, I +understand, that the five-pound cheque could easily be changed into +fifty pounds. That was a mere pleasantry of Mr. Potts', doubtless. How +did the suggestion strike you, Mr. Allan?" + +Allan looked at him in silence. + +"I mean, did the suggestion strike you unpleasantly, or how?" + +"I don't think it made any impression, Sir. I knew it was a joke." + +"A joke!" groaned his father. "Good Heavens! What do you think--?" + +"Once more permit me," said Mr. Rae quietly, with a wave of his hand +toward the Captain. "This cheque of five pounds has evidently been +altered to fifty pounds. The question is, by whom, Mr. Allan? Can you +answer that?" Again Mr. Rae's eyes were searching the young man's face. + +"I have told you I remember nothing about this cheque." + +"Is it possible, Mr. Allan, that you could have raised this cheque +yourself without your knowing--?" + +"Oh, nonsense!" said his father hotly, "why make the boy lie?" + +His son started as if his father had struck him. "I tell you once more, +Mr. Rae, and I tell you all, I know nothing about this cheque, and that +is my last word." And from that position nothing could move him. + +"Well," said Mr. Rae, closing the interview, "we have done our best. The +law must take its course." + +"Great Heavens!" cried the Captain, springing to his feet. "Do you mean +to tell me, Allan, that you persist in this cursed folly and will give +us no further light? Have you no regard for my name, if not for your +own?" He grasped his son fiercely by the arm. + +But his son angrily shook off his grasp. "You," he said, looking his +father full in the face, "you condemned me before you heard a word from +me, and now for my name or for yours I care not a tinker's curse." And +with this he flung himself from the room. + +"Follow him," said Mr. Rae to Dunn, quietly; "he will need you. And keep +him in sight; it is important." + +"All right, Sir!" said Dunn. "I'll stay with him." And he did. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A QUESTION OF HONOUR + + +Mr. Rae in forty years' experience had never been so seriously +disturbed. To his intense humiliation he found himself abjectly +appealing to the senior member of the firm of Thomlinson & Shields. Not +that Mr. Thomlinson was obdurate; in the presence of mere obduracy Mr. +Rae might have found relief in the conscious possession of more generous +and humane instincts than those supposed to be characteristic of the +members of his profession. Mr. Thomlinson, however, was anything but +obdurate. He was eager to oblige, but he was helpless. The instructions +he had received were simple but imperative, and he had gone to unusual +lengths in suggesting to Mr. Sheratt, the manager of the Bank, a course +of greater leniency. That gentleman's only reply was a brief order to +proceed with the case. + +With Mr. Sheratt, therefore, Mr. Rae proceeded to deal. His first move +was to invite the Bank manager to lunch, in order to discuss some rather +important matters relative to one of the great estates of which Mr. Rae +was supposed to be the guardian. Some fifty years' experience of +Mr. Sheratt as boy and man had let Mr. Rae into a somewhat intimate +knowledge of the workings of that gentleman's mind. Under the mollifying +influences of the finest of old port, Mr. Rae made the discovery that as +with Mr. Thomlinson, so with Mr. Sheratt there was every disposition to +oblige, and indeed an eagerness to yield to the lawyer's desires; it was +not Mr. Sheratt, but the Bank that was immovable. Firm-fixed it stood +upon its bedrock of tradition that in matters of fraud, crime should be +punished to the full limit of the law. + +"The estate of the criminal, high or low," said Mr. Sheratt +impressively, "matters not. The Bank stands upon the principle, and from +this it cannot be moved." Mr. Sheratt began to wax eloquent. "Fidelity +to its constituency, its shareholders, its depositors, indeed to the +general public, is the corner-stone of its policy. The Bank of Scotland +is a National Institution, with a certain National obligation." + +Mr. Rae quietly drew from his pocket a pamphlet, opened it slowly, +and glanced at the page. "Ay, it's as I thought, Mr. Sheratt," he said +dryly. "At times I wondered where Sir Archibald got his style." + +Mr. Sheratt blushed like a boy caught copying. + +"But now since I know who it is that writes the speech of the Chairman +of the Board of Directors, tell me, Sheratt, as man to man, is it you or +is it Sir Archibald that's at the back of this prosecution? For if it is +you, I've something to say to you; if not, I'll just say it where it's +most needed. In some way or other I'm bound to see this thing through. +That boy can't go to prison. Now tell me, Tom? It's for auld sake's +sake." + +"As sure as death, Rae, it's the Chairman, and it's God's truth I'm +telling ye, though I should not." They were back again into the speech +and spirit of their boyhood days. + +"Then I must see Sir Archibald. Give me time to see him, Tom." + +"It's a waste of time, I'm tellin' ye, but two days I'll give ye, Sandy, +for auld sake's sake, as you say. A friendship of half a hundred years +should mean something to us. For your sake I'd let the lad go, God +knows, and there's my han' upon it, but as I said, that lies with Sir +Archibald." + +The old friends shook hands in silence. + +"Thank ye, Tom, thank ye," said Mr. Rae; "I knew it." + +"But harken to me, ye'll no' move Sir Archibald, for on this particular +point he's quite mad. He'd prosecute the Duke of Argyll, he would. But +two days are yours, Sandy. And mind with Sir Archibald ye treat his Bank +with reverence! It's a National Institution, with National obligations, +ye ken?" Mr. Sheratt's wink conveyed a volume of meaning. "And mind you, +Rae," here Mr. Sheratt grew grave, "I am trusting you to produce that +lad when wanted." + +"I have him in safe keeping, Tom, and shall produce him, no fear." + +And with that the two old gentlemen parted, loyal to a lifelong +friendship, but loyal first to the trust of those they stood pledged to +serve; for the friendship that gives first place to honour is the only +friendship that honourable men can hold. + +Mr. Rae set off for his office through the drizzling rain. "Now then, +for the Captain," he said to himself; "and a state he will be in! Why +did I ever summon him to town? Then for Mr. Dunn, who must keep his eye +upon the young man." + +In his office he found Captain Cameron in a state of distraction that +rendered him incapable of either coherent thought or speech. "What now, +Rae? Where have you been? What news have you? My God, this thing is +driving me mad! Penal servitude! Think of it, man, for my son! Oh, the +scandal of it! It will kill me and kill his sister. What's your report? +Come, out with it! Have you seen Mr. Sheratt?" He was pacing up and down +the office like a beast in a cage. + +"Tut, tut, Captain Cameron," said Mr. Rae lightly, "this is no way for +a soldier to face the enemy. Sit down and we will just lay out our +campaign." + +But the Captain's soldiering, which was of the lightest, had taught him +little either of the spirit or of the tactics of warfare. "Campaign!" he +exclaimed. "There's no campaign about it. It's a complete smash, horse, +foot, and artillery." + +"Nonsense, Captain Cameron!" exclaimed Mr. Rae more briskly than his +wont, for the Captain irritated him. "We have still fighting to do, and +hence we must plan our campaign. But first let us get comfortable. Here +Davie," he called, opening the office door, "here, mend this fire. It's +a winter's day this," he continued to the Captain, "and goes to the +marrow." + +Davie, a wizened, clean-shaven, dark-visaged little man, appeared with a +scuttle of coal. "Ay, Davie; that's it! Is that cannel?" + +"Ay, Sir, it is. What else? I aye get the cannel." + +"That's right, Davie. It's a gran' coal." + +"Gran' it's no'," said Davie shortly, who was a fierce radical in +politics, and who strove to preserve his sense of independence of all +semblance of authority by cultivating a habit of disagreement. "Gran' +it's no'," he repeated, "but it's the best the Farquhars hae, though +that's no' saying much. It's no' what I call cannel." + +"Well, well, Davie, it blazes finely at any rate," said Mr. Rae, +determined to be cheerful, and rubbing his hands before the blazing +coal. + +"Ay, it bleezes," grumbled Davie, "when it's no' smootherin'." + +"Come then, Davie, that will do. Clear out," said Mr. Rae to the old +servant, who was cleaning up the hearth with great diligence and care. + +But Davie was not to be hurried. He had his regular routine in +fire-mending, from which no power could move him. "Ay, Sir," he +muttered, brushing away with his feather besom. "I'll clear oot when I +clear up. When a thing's no' dune richt it's no dune ava." + +"True, Davie, true enough; that's a noble sentiment. But will that no' +do now?" Mr. Rae knew himself to be helpless in Davie's hands, and he +knew also that nothing short of violence would hasten Davie from his +"usual." + +"Ay, that'll dae, because it's richt dune. But that's no' what I call +cannel," grumbled Davie, glowering fiercely at the burning coal, as if +meditating a fresh attack. + +"Well, well," said Mr. Rae, "tell the Farquhars about it." + +"Ay, Sir, I will that," said Davie, as he reluctantly took himself off +with his scuttle and besom. + +The Captain was bursting with fretful impatience. "Impudent old rascal!" +he exclaimed. "Why don't you dismiss him?" + +"Dismiss him!" echoed Mr. Rae in consternation. "Dismiss him!" he +repeated, as if pondering an entirely new idea. "I doubt if Davie would +consider that. But now let us to work." He set two arm-chairs before the +fire, and placed a box of cigars by the Captain's elbow. "I have seen +Sheratt," he began. "I'm quite clear it is not in his hands." + +"In whose then?" burst forth the Captain. + +Mr. Rae lit his cigar carefully. "The whole matter, I believe, lies now +with the Chairman of the Board of Directors, Sir Archibald Brodie." + +"Brodie!" cried the Captain. "I know him. Pompous little fool!" + +"Fool, Captain Cameron! Make no mistake. Sir Archibald may have--ah--the +self-importance of a self-made man somewhat under the average height, +but he is, without doubt, the best financier that stands at this moment +in Scotland, and during the last fifteen years he has brought up the +Bank of Scotland to its present position. Fool! He's anything but that. +But he has his weak spots--I wish I knew what they were!--and these we +must seek to find out. Do you know him well?" + +"Oh, yes, quite well," said the Captain; "that is, I've met him at +various functions, where he always makes speeches. Very common, I +call him. I know his father; a mere cottar. I mean," added the Captain +hurriedly, for he remembered that Mr. Rae was of the same humble +origin, "you know, he is thoroughly respectable and all that, but of +no--ah--social or family standing; that is--oh, you understand." + +"Quite," said Mr. Rae drily. + +"Yes, I shall see him," continued the Captain briskly. "I shall +certainly see him. It is a good suggestion. Sir Archibald knows my +family; indeed, his father was from the Erracht region. I shall see him +personally. I am glad you thought of that, Mr. Rae. These smaller men, +Sheratt and the rest, I do not know--in fact, I do not seem to be able +to manage them,--but with Sir Archibald there will be no difficulty, I +feel quite confident. When can you arrange the interview?" + +Mr. Rae sat gazing thoughtfully into the fire, more and more convinced +every moment that he had made a false move in suggesting a meeting +between the Captain and Sir Archibald Brodie. But labour as he might he +could not turn the Captain from his purpose. He was resolved to see Sir +Archibald at the earliest moment, and of the result of the meeting he +had no manner of doubt. + +"He knew my family, Sir," insisted the Captain. "Sir Archibald will +undoubtedly accede to my suggestion--ah--request to withdraw his action. +Arrange it, Mr. Rae, arrange it at once." + +And ruefully enough Mr. Rae was compelled to yield against his better +judgment. + +It was discovered upon inquiry that Sir Archibald had gone for a day or +two to his country estate. "Ah, much better," said the Captain, "away +from his office and away from the--ah--commercial surroundings of the +city. Much better, much better! We shall proceed to his country home." + +Of the wisdom of this proposal Mr. Rae was doubtful. There seemed, +however, no other way open. Hence, the following morning found them on +their way to Sir Archibald's country seat. Mr. Rae felt that it was +an unusual course to pursue, but the time was short, the occasion was +gravely critical, and demanded extreme measures. + +During their railway journey Mr. Rae strove to impress upon the +Captain's mind the need of diplomacy. "Sir Archibald is a man of strong +prejudices," he urged; "for instance, his Bank he regards with an +affection and respect amounting to veneration. He is a bachelor, you +understand, and his Bank is to him wife and bairns. On no account must +you treat his Bank lightly." + +"Oh, certainly not," replied the Captain, who was inclined to resent Mr. +Rae's attempts to school him in diplomacy. + +"He is a great financier," continued Mr. Rae, "and with him finance is a +high art, and financial integrity a sacred obligation." + +"Oh, certainly, certainly," again replied the Captain, quite unimpressed +by this aspect of the matter, for while he considered himself distinctly +a man of affairs, yet his interests lay more in matters of great public +moment. Commercial enterprises he regarded with a feeling akin to +contempt. Money was an extremely desirable, and indeed necessary, +appendage to a gentleman's position, but how any man of fine feeling +could come to regard a financial institution with affection or +veneration he was incapable of conceiving. However, he was prepared +to deal considerately with Sir Archibald's peculiar prejudices in this +matter. + +Mr. Rae's forebodings as to the outcome of the approaching interview +were of the most gloomy nature as they drove through the finely +appointed and beautifully kept grounds of Sir Archibald Brodie's estate. +The interview began inauspiciously. Sir Archibald received them with +stiff courtesy. He hated to be pursued to his country home with business +matters. Besides, at this particular moment he was deeply engrossed in +the inspection of his pigs, for which animals he cherished what might +almost be called an absorbing affection. Mr. Rae, who was proceeding +with diplomatic caution and skill to approach the matter in hand by way +of Sir Archibald's Wiltshires, was somewhat brusquely interrupted by the +Captain, who, in the firm conviction that he knew much better than did +the lawyer how to deal with a man of his own class, plunged at once into +the subject. + +"Awfully sorry to introduce business matters, Sir Archibald, to the +attention of a gentleman in the privacy of his own home, but there is a +little matter in connection with the Bank in which I am somewhat deeply +interested." + +Sir Archibald bowed in silence. + +"Rather, I should say, it concerns my son, and therefore, Sir Archibald, +myself and my family." + +Again Sir Archibald bowed. + +"It is, after all, a trivial matter, which I have no doubt can be easily +arranged between us. The truth is, Sir Archibald--," here the Captain +hesitated, as if experiencing some difficulty in stating the case. + +"Perhaps Captain Cameron will allow me to place the matter before you, +Sir Archibald," suggested Mr. Rae, "as it has a legal aspect of some +gravity, indeed of very considerable gravity. It is the case of young +Mr. Cameron." + +"Ah," said Sir Archibald shortly. "Forgery case, I believe." + +"Well," said Mr. Rae, "we have not been able as yet to get at the +bottom of it. I confess that the case has certainly very grave features +connected with it, but it is by no means clear that--" + +"There is no need for further statement, Mr. Rae," said Sir Archibald. +"I know all about it. It is a clear case of forgery. The facts have all +been laid before me, and I have given my instructions." + +"And what may these be, may I inquire?" said the Captain somewhat +haughtily. + +"The usual instructions, Sir, where the Bank of Scotland is concerned, +instructions to prosecute." Sir Archibald's lips shut in a firm, thin +line. As far as he was concerned the matter was closed. + +"But, Sir," exclaimed the Captain, "this young man is my son." + +"I deeply regret it," replied Sir Archibald. + +"Yes, Sir, he is my son, and the honour of my family is involved." + +Sir Archibald bowed. + +"I am here prepared to offer the fullest reparation, to offer the most +generous terms of settlement; in short, I am willing to do anything in +reason to have this matter--this unfortunate matter--hushed up." + +"Hushed up!" exclaimed Sir Archibald. "Captain Cameron, it is +impossible. I am grieved for you, but I have a duty to the Bank in this +matter." + +"Do you mean to say, Sir," cried the Captain, "that you refuse to +consider any arrangement or compromise or settlement of any kind +whatever? I am willing to pay the amount ten times over, rather than +have my name dragged through legal proceedings." + +"It is quite impossible," said Sir Archibald. + +"Come, come, Sir Archibald," said the Captain, exercising an unusual +self-control; "let us look at this thing as two gentlemen should who +respect each other, and who know what is due to our--ah--class." + +It was an unfortunate remark of the Captain's. + +"Our class, Sir? I presume you mean the class of gentlemen. All that +is due to our class or any other class is strict justice, and that you, +Sir, or any other gentleman, shall receive to the very fullest in this +matter. The honour of the Bank, which I regard as a great National +Institution charged with National responsibilities, is involved, as is +also my own personal honour. I sincerely trust your son may be cleared +of every charge of crime, but this case must be prosecuted to the very +fullest degree." + +"And do you mean to tell me, Sir Archibald," exclaimed the Captain, now +in a furious passion, "that for the sake of a few paltry pounds you will +blast my name and my family name in this country?--a name, I venture to +say, not unknown in the history of this nation. The Camerons, Sir, have +fought and bled for King and country on many a battlefield. What matters +the question of a few pounds in comparison with the honour of an +ancient and honourable name? You cannot persist in this attitude, Sir +Archibald!" + +"Pounds, Sir!" cried Sir Archibald, now thoroughly aroused by the +contemptuous reference to what to him was dearer than anything in life. +"Pounds, Sir! It is no question of pounds, but a question of the honour +of a National Institution, a question of the lives and happiness of +hundreds of widows and orphans, a question of the honour of a name which +I hold as dear as you hold yours." + +Mr. Rae was in despair. He laid a restraining hand upon the Captain, and +with difficulty obtained permission to speak. "Sir Archibald, I crave +your indulgence while I put this matter to you as to a business man. In +the first place, there is no evidence that fraud has been committed +by young Mr. Cameron, absolutely none.--Pardon me a moment, Sir +Archibald.--The fraud has been committed, I grant, by someone, but by +whom is as yet unknown. The young man for some weeks has been in a state +of incapacity; a most blameworthy and indeed shameful condition, it is +true, but in a state of incapacity to transact business. He declares +that he has no knowledge of this act of forgery. He will swear this. I +am prepared to defend him." + +"Very well, Sir," interrupted Sir Archibald, "and I hope, I sincerely +hope, successfully." + +"But while it may be difficult to establish innocence, it will be +equally difficult to establish guilt. Meantime, the young man's life +is blighted, his name dishonoured, his family plunged into unspeakable +grief. I venture to say that it is a case in which the young man might +be given, without injury to the Bank, or without breaking through its +traditional policy, the benefit of the doubt." + +But Sir Archibald had been too deeply stirred by Captain Cameron's +unfortunate remarks to calmly weigh Mr. Rae's presentation of the case. +"It is quite useless, Mr. Rae," he declared firmly. "The case is out of +my hands, and must be proceeded with. I sincerely trust you may be able +to establish the young man's innocence. I have nothing more to say." + +And from this position neither Mr. Rae's arguments nor the Captain's +passionate pleadings could move him. + +Throughout the return journey the Captain raged and swore. "A +contemptible cad, Sir! a base-born, low-bred cad, Sir! What else could +you expect from a fellow of his breeding? The insolence of these lower +orders is becoming insupportable. The idea! the very idea! His bank +against my family name, my family honour! Preposterous!" + +"Honour is honour, Captain Cameron," replied Mr. Rae firmly, "and +it might have been better if you had remembered that the honour of a +cottar's son is as dear to him as yours is to you." + +And such was Mr. Rae's manner that the Captain appeared to consider it +wise to curb his rage, or at least suppress all reference to questions +of honour in as far as they might be related to the question of birth +and breeding. + + + +CHAPTER V + +A LADY AND THE LAW + + +Mr. Rae's first care was to see Mr. Dunn. This case was getting rather +more trying to Mr. Rae's nerves than he cared to acknowledge. For a +second time he had been humiliated, and humiliation was an experience to +which Mr. Rae was not accustomed. It was in a distinctly wrathful frame +of mind that he called upon Mr. Dunn, and the first quarter of an hour +of his interview he spent in dilating upon his own folly in having +allowed Captain Cameron to accompany him on his visit to Sir Archibald. + +"In forty years I never remember having made such an error, Sir. This +was an occasion for diplomacy. We should have taken time. We should have +discovered his weak spots; every man has them. Now it is too late. +The only thing left for us is fight, and the best we can hope for is a +verdict of NOT PROVEN, and that leaves a stigma." + +"It is terrible," said Mr. Dunn, "and I believe he is innocent. Have you +thought of Potts, Sir?" + +"I have had Potts before me," said Mr. Rae, "and I may safely say that +though he strikes me as being a man of unusual cleverness, we can do +nothing with Mr. Potts. Of course," added Mr. Rae hastily, "this is not +to say we shall not make use of Mr. Potts in the trial, but Mr. Potts +can show from his books debts amounting to nearly sixty pounds. He +frankly acknowledges the pleasantry in suggesting the raising of the +five-pound cheque to fifty pounds, but of the act itself he professes +entire ignorance. I frankly own to you, Sir," continued Mr. Rae, folding +his ear into a horn after his manner when in perplexity, "that this case +puzzles me. I must not take your time," he said, shaking Mr. Dunn warmly +by the hand. "One thing more I must ask you, however, and that is, keep +in touch with young Cameron. I have pledged my honour to produce him +when wanted. Furthermore, keep him--ah--in good condition; cheer him up; +nerve him up; much depends upon his manner." + +Gravely Mr. Dunn accepted the trust, though whether he could fulfil it +he doubted. "Keep him cheerful," said Mr. Dunn to himself, as the door +closed upon Mr. Rae. "Nice easy job, too, under the circumstances. +Let's see, what is there on? By Jove, if I could only bring him!" There +flashed into Mr. Dunn's mind the fact that he was due that evening at a +party for students, given by one of the professors, belated beyond the +period proper to such functions by one of those domestic felicities +which claim right of way over all other human events. At this party +Cameron was also due. It was hardly likely, however, that he would +attend. But to Dunn's amazement he found Cameron, with a desperate +jollity such as a man might feel the night before his execution, eager +to go. + +"I'm going," he cried, in answer to Dunn's somewhat timid suggestion. +"They'll all be there, old man, and I shall make my exit with much +eclat, with pipe and dance and all the rest of it." + +"Exit, be blowed!" said Dunn impatiently. "Let's cut all this nonsense +out. We're going into a fight for all there's in us. Why should a fellow +throw up the sponge after the first round?" + +"Fight!" said Cameron gloomily. "Did old Rae say so?" + +"Most decidedly." + +"And what defence does he suggest?" + +"Defence? Innocence, of course." + +"Would to God I could back him up!" groaned Cameron. + +Dunn gazed at him in dismay. "And can you not? You do not mean to tell +me you are guilty?" + +"Oh, I wish to heaven I knew!" cried Cameron wildly. "But there, let it +go. Let the lawyers and the judge puzzle it out. 'Guilty or not guilty?' +'Hanged if I know, my lord. Looks like guilty, but don't see very well +how I can be.' That will bother old Rae some; it would bother Old Nick +himself. 'Did you forge this note?' 'My lord, my present ego recognizes +no intent to forge; my alter ego in vino may have done so. Of that, +however, I know nothing; it lies in that mysterious region of the +subconscious.' 'Are you, then, guilty?' 'Guilt, my lord, lies in intent. +Intent is the soul of crime.' It will be an interesting point for Mr. +Rae and his lordship." + +"Look here, old chap," asked Dunn suddenly, "what of Potts in this +business?" + +"Potts! Oh, hang it, Dunn, I can't drag Potts into this. It would +be altogether too low-down to throw suspicion upon a man without the +slightest ground. Potts is not exactly a lofty-souled creature. In fact, +he is pronouncedly a bounder, though I confess I did borrow money of +him; but I'd borrow money of the devil when I'm in certain moods. A man +may be a bounder, however, without being a criminal. No, I have thought +this thing out as far as I can, and I've made my mind up that I've got +to face it myself. I've been a fool, ah, such a fool!" A shudder shook +his frame. "Oh, Dunn, old man, I don't mind for myself, I can go out +easily enough, but it's my little sister! It will break her heart, and +she has no one else; she will have to bear it all alone." + +"What do you mean, Cameron?" asked Dunn sharply. + +Cameron sprang to his feet. "Let it go," he cried. "Let it go for +to-night, anyway." He seized a decanter which stood all too ready to his +hand, but Dunn interposed. + +"Listen to me, old man," he said, in a voice of grave and earnest +sadness, while he pushed Cameron back into a chair. "We have a +desperately hard game before us, you and I,--this is my game, too,--and +we must be fit; so, Cameron, I want your word that you will play up for +all that's in you; that you will cut this thing out," pointing to the +decanter, "and will keep fit to the last fighting minute. I am asking +you this, Cameron. You owe it to yourself, you owe it to me, you owe it +to your sister." + +For some moments Cameron sat gazing straight before him, his face +showing the agony in his soul. "As God's above, I do! I owe it to you, +Dunn, and to her, and to the memory of my--" But his quivering lips +could not utter the word; and there was no need, for they both knew that +his heart was far away in the little mound that lay in the shadow of the +church tower in the Cuagh Oir. The lad rose to his feet, and stretching +out his hand to Dunn cried, "There's my hand and my honour as a +Highlander, and until the last fighting moment I'll be fit." + +At the party that night none was gayer than young Cameron. The shy +reserve that usually marked him was thrust aside. His fine, lithe +figure, set off by his Highland costume, drew all eyes in admiration, +and whether in the proud march of the piper, or in the wild abandon of +the Highland Fling, he seemed to all the very beau ideal of a gallant +Highland gentleman. + +Dunn stood in the circle gathered to admire, watching Cameron's +performance of that graceful and intricate Highland dance, all +unconscious of a pair of bright blue eyes fastened on his face that +reflected so manifestly the grief and pain in his heart. + +"And wherefore this gloom?" said a gay voice at his side. It was Miss +Bessie Brodie. + +Poor Dunn! He was not skilled in the fine art of social deception. He +could only gaze stupidly and with blinking eyes upon his questioner, +devoutly hoping meanwhile that the tears would not fall. + +"Splendid Highlander, isn't he?" exclaimed Miss Bessie, hastily +withdrawing her eyes from his face, for she was much too fine a lady to +let him see her surprise. + +"What?" exclaimed Dunn. "I don't know. I mean--yes, awfully--oh, +confound the thing, it's a beastly shame!" + +Thereupon Miss Bessie turned her big blue eyes slowly upon him. "Meaning +what?" she said quietly. + +"Oh, I beg pardon. I'm just a fool. Oh, hang it all!" Dunn could not +recover his composure. He backed out of the circle of admirers into a +darker corner. + +"Fool?" said Miss Brodie, stepping back with him. "And why, pray? Can +I know? I suppose it's Cameron again," she continued. "Oh, I know all +about you and your mothering of him." + +"Mothering!" said Dunn bitterly. "That is just what he needs, by Jove. +His mother has been dead these five years, and that's been the ruin of +him." + +The cheers from Cameron's admirers broke in upon Dunn's speech. "Oh, +it's too ghastly," he muttered. + +"Is it really so bad? Can't I help?" cried Miss Brodie. "You know I've +had some experience with boys." + +As Dunn looked into her honest, kindly eyes he hesitated. Should he tell +her? He was in sore need of counsel, and besides he was at the limit +of his self-control. "I say," he said, staring at her, while his lips +quivered, "I'd like awfully to tell you, but I know if I ever begin I +shall just burst into tears before this gaping crowd." + +"Tears!" exclaimed Miss Bessie. "Not you! And if you did it wouldn't +hurt either them or you. An International captain possesses this +advantage over other mortals: that he may burst into tears or anything +else without losing caste, whereas if I should do any such thing--But +come, let's get somewhere and talk it over. Now, then," said Miss Brodie +as they found a quiet corner, "first of all, ought I to know?" + +"You'll know, all Edinburgh will know time day after to-morrow," said +Dunn. + +"All right, then, it can't do any harm for me to know to-night. It +possibly may do good." + +"It will do me good, anyway," said Dunn, "for I have reached my limit." + +Then Dunn told her, and while she listened she grew grave and anxious. +"But surely it can be arranged!" she exclaimed, after he had finished. + +"No, Mr. Rae has tried everything. The Bank is bound to pursue it to the +bitter end. It is apparently a part of its policy." + +"What Bank?" + +"The Bank of Scotland." + +"Why, that's my uncle's Bank! I mean, he is the Chairman of the Board +of Directors, and the Bank is the apple of his eye; or one of them, I +mean--I'm the other." + +"Oh, both, I fancy," said Dunn, rather pleased with his own courage. + +"But come, this is serious," said Miss Brodie. "The Bank, you know, or +you don't know, is my uncle's weak spot." + +Mr. Rae's words flashed across Dunn's mind: "We ought to have found his +weak spots." + +"He says," continued Miss Brodie with a smile--"you know he's an old +dear!--I divide his heart with the Bank, that I have the left lobe. +Isn't that the bigger one? So the Bank and I are his weak spots; unless +it is his Wiltshires--he is devoted to Wiltshires." + +"Wiltshires?" + +"Pigs. There are times when I feel myself distinctly second to them. Are +you sure my uncle knows all about Cameron?" + +"Well, Mr. Rae and Captain Cameron--that's young Cameron's father--went +out to his place--" + +"Ah, that was a mistake," said Miss Brodie. "He hates people following +him to the country. Well, what happened?" + +"Mr. Rae feels that it was rather a mistake that Captain Cameron went +along." + +"Why so? He is his father, isn't he?" + +"Yes, he is, though I'm bound to say he's rather queer for a father." +Whereupon Dunn gave her an account of his interview in Mr. Rae's office. + +Miss Brodie was indignant. "What a shame! And what a fool! Why, he is +ten times more fool than his son; for mark you, his son is undoubtedly +a fool, and a selfish fool at that. I can't bear a young fool who +sacrifices not simply his own life, but the interests of all who care +for him, for some little pet selfishness of his own. But this father +of his seems to be even worse than the son. Family name indeed! And I +venture to say he expatiated upon the glory of his family name to my +uncle. If there's one thing that my uncle goes quite mad about it is +this affectation of superiority on the ground of the colour of a man's +blood! No wonder he refused to withdraw the prosecution! What could Mr. +Rae have been thinking about? What fools men are!" + +"Quite true," murmured Mr. Dunn. + +"Some men, I mean," cried Miss Brodie hastily. "I wish to heaven I had +seen my uncle first!" + +"I suppose it's too late now," said Dunn, with a kind of gloomy +wistfulness. + +"Yes, I fear so," said Miss Brodie. "You see when my uncle makes up his +mind he appears to have some religious scruples against changing it." + +"It was a ghastly mistake," said Dunn bitterly. + +"Look here, Mr. Dunn," said Miss Brodie, turning upon him suddenly, "I +want your straight opinion. Do you think this young man guilty?" + +They were both looking at Cameron, at that moment the centre of a group +of open admirers, his boyish face all aglow with animation. For the +time being it seemed as if he had forgotten the terrible catastrophe +overhanging him. + +"If I hadn't known Cameron for three years," replied Dunn slowly, "I +would say offhand that this thing would be impossible to him; but you +see you never know what a man in drink will do. Cameron can carry a +bottle of Scotch without a stagger, but of course it knocks his head +all to pieces. I mean, he is quite incapable of anything like clear +thought." + +"It is truly terrible," said Miss Brodie. "I wish I had known yesterday, +but those men have spoilt it all. But here's 'Lily' Laughton," she +continued hurriedly, "coming for his dance." As she spoke a youth of +willowy figure, languishing dark eyes and ladylike manner drew near. + +"Well, here you are at last! What a hunt I have had! I am quite +exhausted, I assure you," cried the youth, fanning himself with his +handkerchief. "And though you have quite forgotten it, this is our +dance. What can you two have been talking about? But why ask? There is +only one theme upon which you could become so terrifically serious." + +"And what is that, pray? Browning?" inquired Miss Brodie sweetly. + +"Dear Miss Brodie, if you only would, but--ugh!--" here "Lily" +shuddered, "I can in fancy picture the gory scene in which you have been +revelling for the last hour!" And "Lily's" handsome face and languid, +liquid eyes indicated his horror. It was "Lily's" constant declaration +that he "positively loathed" football, although his persistent +attendance at all the great matches rather belied this declaration. "It +is the one thing in you, Miss Bessie, that I deplore, 'the fly in the +pot--' no, 'the flaw--' ah, that's better--'the flaw in the matchless +pearl.'" + +"How sweet of you," murmured Miss Brodie. + +"Yes, indeed," continued "Lily," wreathing his tapering fingers, "it is +your devotion to those so-called athletic games,--games! ye gods!--the +chief qualifications for excellence in which appear to be brute strength +and a blood-thirsty disposition; as witness Dunn there. I was positively +horrified last International. There he was, our own quiet, domestic, +gentle Dunn, raging through that howling mob of savages like a +bloody Bengal tiger.--Rather apt, that!--A truly awful and degrading +exhibition!" + +"Ah, perfectly lovely!" murmured Miss Brodie ecstatically. "I can see +him yet." + +"Miss Brodie, how can you!" exclaimed "Lily," casting up his eyes in +horror towards heaven. "But it was ever thus! In ancient days upon +the bloody sands of the arena, fair ladies were wont to gaze with +unrelenting eyes and thumbs turned down--or up, was it--?" + +"Excellent! But how clever of them to gaze with their thumbs in that +way!" + +"Please don't interrupt," said "Lily" severely; "I have just 'struck my +gait,' as that barbaric young Colonial, Martin, another of your bloody, +brawny band, would say. And here you sit, unblushing, glorying in their +disgusting deeds and making love open and unabashed to their captain!" + +"Go away, 'Lily' or I'll hurt you," cried Dunn, his face a brilliant +crimson. "Come, get out!" + +"But don't be uplifted," continued "Lily," ignoring him, "you are not +the first. By no means! It is always the last International captain, and +has been to my certain knowledge for the last ten years." + +"Ten years!" exclaimed Miss Brodie in horrified accents. "You monster! +If you have no regard for my character you might at least respect my +age." + +"Age! Dear Miss Brodie," ejaculated "Lily," "who could ever associate +age with your perennial youth?" + +"Perennial! Wretch! If there is anything I am sensitive about, really +sensitive about, it is my age! Mr. Dunn, I beseech you, save me from +further insult! Dear 'Lily,' run away now. You are much too tired to +dance, and besides there is Mrs. Craig-Urquhart waiting to talk your +beloved Wagner-Tennyson theory; or what is the exact combination? +Mendelssohn-Browning, is it?" + +"Oh, Miss Bessie!" cried "Lily" in a shocked voice, "how can +you? Mendelssohn-Browning! How awful! Do have some regard for the +affinities." + +"Mr. Dunn, I implore you, save me! I can bear no more. There! A merciful +providence has accomplished my deliverance. They are going. Good-night, +'Lily.' Run away now. I want a word with Mr. Dunn." + +"Oh, heartless cruelty!" exclaimed "Lily," in an agonised voice. "But +what can you expect from such associations?" And he hastened away to +have a last word with Mrs. Craig-Urquhart, who was swimming languidly +by. + +Miss Brodie turned eagerly to Dunn. "I'd like to help you awfully," she +said; "indeed I must try. I have very little hope. My uncle is so strong +when he is once set, and he is so funny about that Bank. But a boy is +worth more than a Bank, if he IS a fool; besides, there is his sister. +Good-night. Thanks for letting me help. I have little hope, but +to-morrow I shall see Sir Archibald, and--and his pigs." + +It was still in the early forenoon of the following day when Miss +Brodie greeted her uncle as he was about to start upon his round of the +pastures and pens where the Wiltshires of various ages and sizes and +sexes were kept. With the utmost enthusiasm Miss Brodie entered into his +admiration of them all, from the lordly prize tusker to the great mother +lying broadside on in grunting and supreme content, every grunt eloquent +of happiness and maternal love and pride, to allow her week-old brood to +prod and punch her luxuriant dugs for their breakfast. + +By the time they had made their rounds Sir Archibald had arrived at his +most comfortable and complacent mood. He loved his niece. He loved her +for the sake of his dead brother, and as she grew in years, he came to +love her for herself. Her sturdy independent fearlessness, her +sound sense, her honest heart, and chiefly, if it must be told, her +whole-souled devotion to himself, made for her a great space in his +heart. And besides all this, they were both interested to the point of +devotion in pigs. As he watched his niece handling the little sucklings +with tender care, and listened to her appraising their varying merits +with a discriminating judgment, his heart filled up with pride in her +many accomplishments and capabilities. + +"Isn't she happy, Uncle?" she exclaimed, lifting her brown, sunny face +to him. + +"Ay, lassie," replied Sir Archibald, lapsing into the kindly "braid +Scots," "I ken fine how she feels." + +"She's just perfectly happy," said his niece, "and awfully useful and +good. She is just like you, Uncle." + +"What? Oh, thank you, I'm extremely flattered, I assure you." + +"Uncle, you know what I mean! Useful and good. Here you are in this +lovely home--how lovely it is on a warm, shiny day like this!--safe from +cares and worries, where people can't get at you, and making--" + +"Ah, I don't know about that," replied her uncle, shaking his head with +a frown. "Some people have neither sense nor manners. Only yesterday +I was pestered by a fellow who annoyed me, seriously annoyed me, +interfering in affairs which he knew nothing of,--actually the affairs +of the Bank!--prating about his family name, and all the rest of it. +Family name!" Here, it must be confessed, Sir Archibald distinctly +snorted, quite in a manner calculated to excite the envy of any of his +Wiltshires. + +"I know, Uncle. He is a fool, a conceited fool, and a selfish fool." + +"You know him?" inquired her uncle in a tone of surprise. + +"No, I have no personal acquaintance with him, I'm glad to say, but I +know about him, and I know that he came with Mr. Rae, the Writer." + +"Ah, yes! Thoroughly respectable man, Mr. Rae." + +"Yes, Mr. Rae is all right; but Captain Cameron--oh, I can't bear him! +He came to talk to you about his son, and I venture to say he took most +of the time in talking about himself." + +"Exactly so! But how--?" + +"And, Uncle, I want to talk to you about that matter, about young +Cameron." For just a moment Miss Brodie's courage faltered as she +observed her uncle's figure stiffen. "I want you to know the rights of +the case." + +"Now, now, my dear, don't you go--ah--" + +"I know, Uncle, you were going to say 'interfering,' only you remember +in time that your niece never interferes. Isn't that true, Sir?" + +"Yes, yes! I suppose so; that is, certainly." + +"Now I am interested in this young Cameron, and I want you to get the +right view of his case, which neither your lawyer nor your manager nor +that fool father of his can give you. I know that if you see this case +as I see it you will do--ah--exactly what is right; you always do." + +Miss Brodie's voice had assumed its most reasonable and business-like +tone. Sir Archibald was impressed, and annoyed because he was impressed. + +"Look here, Bessie," he said, in as impatient a tone as he ever adopted +with his niece, "you know how I hate being pestered with business +affairs out here." + +"I know quite well, Uncle, and I regret it awfully, but I know, too, +that you are a man of honour, and that you stand for fair play. But that +young man is to be arrested to-day, and you know what that will mean for +a young fellow with his way to make." + +Her appeal was not without its effect. Sir Archibald set himself to give +her serious attention. "Let us have it, then," he said briefly. "What +do you know of the young man?" + +"This first of all: that he has a selfish, conceited prig for a father." + +With which beginning Sir Archibald most heartily agreed. "But how do you +know?" + +"Now, let me tell you about him." And Miss Brodie proceeded to describe +the scene between father and son in Mr. Rae's office, with vigorous and +illuminating comments. "And just think, the man in the company who was +first to condemn the young chap was his own father. Would you do that? +You'd stand for him against the whole world, even if he were wrong." + +"Steady, steady, lass!" + +"You would," repeated Miss Bessie, with indignant emphasis. "Would you +chuck me over if I were disgraced and all the world hounding me? Would +you?" + +"No, by God!" said Sir Archibald in a sudden tempest of emotion, and +Miss Bessie smiled lovingly upon him. + +"Well, that's the kind of a father he has. Now about the young fellow +himself: He's just a first-class fool, like most young fellows. You know +how they are, Uncle." + +Sir Archibald held up his hand. "Don't make any such assumptions." + +"Oh, I know you, and when you were a boy you were just as gay and +foolish as the rest of them." + +Her arch, accusing smile suddenly cast a rich glow of warm colour +over the long, grey road of Sir Archibald's youth of self-denial +and struggle. The mild indulgences of his early years, under the +transforming influence of that same arch and accusing smile, took on for +Sir Archibald such an aspect of wild and hilarious gaiety as to impart a +tone of hesitation to his voice while he deprecated his niece's charge. + +"What, I? Nonsense! What do you know about it? Well, well, we have all +had our day, I suppose!" + +"Aha! I know you, and I should love to have known you when you were +young Cameron's age. Though I'm quite sure you were never such a fool as +he. You always knew how to take care of yourself." + +Her uncle shook his head as if to indicate that the less said about +those gay young days the better. + +"Now what do you think this young fool does? Gets drinking, and gets so +muddled up in all his money matters--he's a Highlander, you know, and +Dunn, Mr. Dunn says--" + +"Dunn!" + +"Yes, Mr. Dunn, the great International captain, you know! Mr. Dunn says +he can take a whole bottle of Scotch--" + +"What, Dunn?" + +"No, no; you know perfectly well, Uncle! This young Cameron can take +a whole bottle of Scotch and walk a crack, but his head gets awfully +muddled." + +"Shouldn't be surprised!" + +"And Mr. Dunn had a terrible time keeping him fit for the International. +You know he was Dunn's half-back. Yes," cried his niece with enthusiasm, +suddenly remembering a tradition that in his youth Sir Archibald had +been a famous quarter, his one indulgence, "a glorious half-back, too! +You must remember in the match with England last fall the brilliant work +of the half-back. Everybody went mad about him. That was young Cameron!" + +"You don't tell me! The left-half in the English International last +fall?" + +"Yes, indeed! Oh, he's wonderful! But he has to be watched, you know, +and the young fool lost us the last--" Miss Bessie abruptly checked +herself. "But never mind! Well, after the season, you know, he got going +loose, and this is the result. Owed money everywhere, and with the true +Highland incapacity for business, and the true Highland capacity for +trusting people--" + +"Huh!" grunted Sir Archibald in disapproval. + +"--When his head is in a muddled condition he does something or other to +a cheque--or doesn't do it, nobody knows--and there he is in this awful +fix. Personally, I don't believe he is guilty of the crime." + +"And why, pray?" + +"Why? Well, Mr. Dunn, his captain, who has known him for years, says it +is quite impossible; and then the young man himself doesn't deny it." + +"What? Does NOT deny it?" + +"Exactly! Like a perfectly straightforward gentleman,--and I think it's +awfully fine of him,--though he has a perfectly good chance to put the +thing on a--a fellow Potts, quite a doubtful character, he simply says, +'I know nothing about it. That looks like my signature. I can't remember +doing this, don't know how I could have, but don't know a thing about +it.' There you are, Uncle! And Mr. Dunn says he is quite incapable of +it." + +"Mr. Dunn, eh? It seems you build somewhat broadly upon Mr. Dunn." + +The brown on Miss Bessie's check deepened slightly. "Well, Mr. Dunn is a +splendid judge of men." + +"Ah; and of young ladies, also, I imagine," said Sir Archibald, pinching +her cheek. + +It may have been the pinch, but the flush on her cheek grew distinctly +brighter. "Don't be ridiculous, Uncle! He's just a boy, a perfectly +splendid boy, and glorious in his game, but a mere boy, and--well, you +know, I've arrived at the age of discretion." + +"Quite true!" mused her uncle. "Thirty last birthday, was it? How time +does--!" + +"Oh, you perfectly horrid uncle! Thirty indeed! Are you not ashamed to +add to the already intolerable burden of my years? Thirty! No, Sir, not +by five good years at least! There now, you've made me tell my age! You +ought to blush for shame." + +Her uncle patted her firm, round cheek. "Never a blush, my dear! You +bear even your advanced age with quite sufficient ease and grace. But +now about this young Cameron," he continued, assuming a sternly judicial +tone. + +"All I ask for him is a chance," said his niece earnestly. + +"A chance? Why he will get every chance the law allows to clear +himself." + +"There you are!" exclaimed Miss Bessie, in a despairing tone. "That's +the way the lawyers and your manager talk. They coolly and without a +qualm get him arrested, this young boy who has never in all his life +shown any sign of criminal tendency. These horrid lawyers display their +dreadful astuteness and ability in catching a lad who never tries to run +away, and your manager pleads the rules of the Bank. The rules! Fancy +rules against a young boy's whole life!" + +Her uncle rather winced at this. + +"And like a lot of sheep they follow each other in a circle; there is +absolutely no independence, no initiative. Why, they even went so far as +to suggest that you could do nothing, that you were bound by rules and +must follow like the rest of them; but I told them I knew better." + +"Ah!" said Sir Archibald in his most dignified manner. "I trust I have a +mind of my own, but--" + +"Exactly! So I said to Mr. Dunn. 'Rules or no rules,' I said, 'my +uncle will do the fair thing.' And I know you will," cried Miss Brodie +triumphantly. "And if you look at it, there's a very big chance that the +boy never did the thing, and certainly if he did it at all it was when +he was quite incapable. Oh, I know quite well what the lawyers say. They +go by the law,--they've got to,--but you--and--and--I go by the--the +real facts of the case." Sir Archibald coughed gently. "I mean to +say--well you know, Uncle, quite well, you can tell what a man is +by--well, by his game." + +"His game!" + +"And by his eye." + +"His eye! And his eye is--?" + +"Now, Uncle, be sensible! I mean to say, if you could only see him. Oh, +I shall bring him to see you!" she cried, with a sudden inspiration. + +Sir Archibald held up a deprecating hand. "Do not, I beg." + +"Well, Uncle, you can trust my judgment, you know you can. You would +trust me in--in--" For a moment Miss Brodie was at a loss; then her eyes +fell upon the grunting, comfortable old mother pig with her industrious +litter. "Well, don't I know good Wiltshires when I see them?" + +"Quite true," replied her uncle solemnly; "and therefore, men." + +"Uncle, you're very nearly rude." + +"I apologise," replied her uncle hastily. "But now, Bessie, my dear +girl, seriously, as to this case, you must understand that I cannot +interfere. The Bank--hem--the Bank is a great National--" + +Miss Bessie saw that the Guards were being called upon. She hastened to +bring up her reserves. "I know, Uncle, I know! I wouldn't for the world +say a word against the Bank, but you see the case against the lad is at +least doubtful." + +"I was going on to observe," resumed her uncle, judicially, "that the +Bank--" + +"Don't misunderstand me, Uncle," cried his niece, realising that she had +reached a moment of crisis. "You know I would not for a moment +presume to interfere with the Bank, but"--here she deployed her whole +force,--"the lad's youth and folly; his previous good character, +guaranteed by Dunn, who knows men; his glorious game--no man who wasn't +straight could play such a game!--the large chance of his innocence, the +small chance of his guilt; the hide-bound rigidity of lawyers and bank +managers, dominated by mere rules and routine, in contrast with the +open-minded independence of her uncle; the boy's utter helplessness; his +own father having been ready to believe the worst,--just think of it, +Uncle, his own father thinking of himself and of his family name--much +he has ever done for his family name!--and not of his own boy, +and"--here Miss Brodie's voice took a lower key--"and his mother died +some five or six years ago, when he was thirteen or fourteen, and I +know, you know, that is hard on a boy." In spite of herself, and to her +disgust, a tremor came into her voice and a rush of tears to her eyes. + +Her uncle was smitten with dismay. Only on one terrible occasion since +she had emerged from her teens had he seen his niece in tears. The +memory of that terrible day swept over his soul. Something desperate +was doing. Hard as the little man was to the world against which he had +fought his way to his present position of distinction, to his niece +he was soft-hearted as a mother. "There, there!" he exclaimed hastily. +"We'll give the boy a chance. No mother, eh? And a confounded prig for a +father! No wonder the boy goes all wrong!" Then with a sudden vehemence +he cried, striking one hand into the other, "No, by--! that is, we +will certainly give the lad the benefit of the doubt. Cheer up, lassie! +You've no need to look ashamed," for his niece was wiping her eyes +in manifest disgust; "indeed," he said, with a heavy attempt at +playfulness, "you are a most excellent diplomat." + +"Diplomat, Uncle!" cried the girl, vehement indignation in her voice and +face. "Diplomat!" she cried again. "You don't mean that I've not been +quite sincere?" + +"No, no, no; not in the least, my dear! But that you have put your case +with admirable force." + +"Oh," said the girl with a breath of relief, "I just put it as I feel +it. And it is not a bit my putting it, Uncle, but it is just that +you are a dear and--well, a real sport; you love fair play." The girl +suddenly threw her strong, young arms about her uncle's neck, drew him +close to her, and kissed him almost as if she had been his mother. + +The little man was deeply touched, but with true Scotch horror of a +demonstration he cried, "Tut, tut, lassie, ye're makin' an auld fule o' +your uncle. Come now, be sensible!" + +"Sensible!" echoed his niece, kissing him again. "That's my living +description among all my acquaintance. It is their gentle way of +reminding me that the ordinary feminine graces of sweetness and general +loveliness are denied me." + +"And more fools they!" grunted her uncle. "You're worth the hale +caboodle o' them." + +That same evening there were others who shared this opinion, and none +more enthusiastically than did Mr. Dunn, whom Miss Brodie chanced to +meet just as she turned out of the Waverly Station. + +"Oh, Mr. Dunn," she cried, "how very fortunate!" Her face glowed with +excitement. + +"For me; yes, indeed!" said Mr. Dunn, warmly greeting her. + +"For me, for young Cameron, for us all," said Miss Brodie. "Oh, Rob, is +that you?" she continued, as her eye fell upon the youngster standing +with cap off waiting her recognition. "Look at this!" she flashed a +letter before Dunn's face. "What do you think of that?" + +Dunn took the letter. "It's to Sheratt," he said, with a puzzled air. + +"Yes," cried Miss Brodie, mimicking his tone, "it's to Sheratt, from Sir +Archibald, and it means that Cameron is safe. The police will never--" + +"The police," cried Dunn, hastily, getting between young Rob and her and +glancing at his brother, who stood looking from one to the other with a +startled face. + +"How stupid! The police are a truly wonderful body of men," she went on +with enthusiasm. "They look so splendid. I saw some of them as I came +along. But never mind them now. About this letter. What's to do?" + +Dunn glanced at his watch. "We need every minute." He stood a moment or +two thinking deeply while Miss Brodie chatted eagerly with Rob, whose +face retained its startled and anxious look. "First to Mr. Rae's office. +Come!" cried Mr. Dunn. + +"But this letter ought to go." + +"Yes, but first Mr. Rae's office." Mr. Dunn had assumed command. His +words shot out like bullets. + +Miss Brodie glanced at him with a new admiration in her face. As a +rule she objected to being ordered about, but somehow it seemed good to +accept commands from this young man, whose usually genial face was now +set in such resolute lines. + +"Here, Rob, you cut home and tell them not to wait dinner for me." + +"All right, Jack!" But instead of tearing off as was his wont whenever +his brother gave command, Rob lingered. "Can't I wait a bit, Jack, to +see--to see if anything--?" Rob was striving hard to keep his voice in +command and his face steady. "It's Cameron, Jack. I know!" He turned his +back on Miss Brodie, unwilling that she should see his lips quiver. + +"What are you talking about?" said his brother sharply. + +"Oh, it is all my stupid fault, Mr. Dunn," said Miss Brodie. "Let him +come along a bit with us. I say, youngster, you are much too acute," she +continued, as they went striding along together toward Mr. Rae's office. +"But will you believe me if I tell you something? Will you? Straight +now?" + +The boy glanced up into her honest blue eyes, and nodded his head. + +"Your friend Cameron is quite all right. He was in some difficulty, but +now he's quite all right. Do you believe me?" + +The boy looked again steadily into her eyes. The anxious fear passed +out of his face, and once more he nodded; he knew he could not keep his +voice quite steady. But after a few paces he said to his brother, "I +think I'll go now, Jack." His mind was at rest; his idol was safe. + +"Oh, come along and protect me," cried Miss Brodie. "These lawyer people +terrify me." + +The boy smiled a happy smile. "I'll go," he said resolutely. + +"Thanks, awfully," said Miss Brodie. "I shall feel so much safer with +you in the waiting room." + +It was a difficult matter to surprise Mr. Rae, and even more difficult +to extract from him any sign of surprise, but when Dunn, leaving Miss +Brodie and his brother in the anteroom, entered Mr. Rae's private office +and laid the letter for Mr. Sheratt before him, remarking, "This letter +is from Sir Archibald, and withdraws the prosecution," Mr. Rae stood +speechless, gazing now at the letter in his hand, and now at Mr. Dunn's +face. + +"God bless my soul! This is unheard of. How came you by this, Sir?" + +"Miss Brodie--" began Dunn. + +"Miss Brodie?" + +"She is in the waiting room, Sir." + +"Then, for heaven's sake, bring her in! Davie, Davie! Where is that man +now? Here, Davie, a message to Mr. Thomlinson." + +Davie entered with deliberate composure. + +"My compliments to Mr. Thomlinson, and ask if he would step over at +once. It is a matter of extreme urgency. Be quick!" + +But Davie had his own mind as to the fitness of things. "Wad a note no' +be better, Sir? Wull not--?" + +"Go, will you!" almost shouted Mr. Rae. + +Davie was so startled at Mr. Rae's unusual vehemence that he seized his +cap and made for the door. "He'll no' come for the like o' me," he +said, pausing with the door-knob in his hand. "It's no' respectable like +tae--" + +"Man, will ye no' be gone?" cried Mr. Rae, rising from his chair. + +"I will that!" exclaimed Davie, banging the door after him. "But," he +cried furiously, thrusting his head once more into the room, "if he'll +no' come it's no' faut o' mine." His voice rose higher and higher, and +ended in a wrathful scream as Mr. Rae, driven to desperation, hurled a +law book of some weight at his vanishing head. + +"The de'il take ye! Ye'll be my deith yet." + +The book went crashing against the door-frame just as Miss Brodie was +about to enter. "I say," she cried, darting back. "Heaven protect me! +Rob, save me!" + +Rob sprang to her side. She stood for a moment gazing aghast at Mr. +Dunn, who gazed back at her in equal surprise. "Is this his 'usual'?" +she inquired. + +At that the door opened. "Ah, Mr. Dunn, this is Miss Brodie, I suppose. +Come in, come in!" Mr. Rae's manner was most bland. + +Miss Brodie gave him her hand with some hesitation. "I'm very glad to +meet you, Mr. Rae, but is this quite the usual method? I mean to say, +I've heard of having advice hurled at one's head, but I can't say that I +ever was present at a demonstration of the method." + +"Oh," said Mr. Rae, with bland and gallant courtesy, "the method, my +dear young lady, varies with the subject in hand." + +"Ah, the subject!" + +"And with the object in view." + +"Oh, I see." + +"But pray be seated. And now explain this most wonderful phenomenon." He +tapped the letter. + +"Oh, that is quite simple," said Miss Brodie. "I set the case of young +Mr. Cameron before my uncle, and of course he at once saw that the only +thing to do was withdraw the prosecution." + +Mr. Rae stood gazing steadily at her as if striving to take in the +meaning of her words, the while screwing up his ear most violently till +it stuck out like a horn upon the side of his shiny, bald head. "Permit +me to say, Miss Brodie," he said, with a deliberate and measured +emphasis, "that you must be a most extraordinary young lady." At this +point Mr. Rae's smile broke forth in all its glory. + +"Oh, thank you, Mr. Rae," replied Miss Brodie, smiling responsively at +him. "You are most--" But Mr. Rae's smile had vanished. "What! I beg +your pardon!" Miss Brodie's smiling response was abruptly arrested by +finding herself gazing at a face whose grave solemnity rebuked her smile +as unwarranted levity. + +"Not at all, not at all!" said Mr. Rae. "But now, there are matters +demanding immediate action. First, Mr. Sheratt must receive and act +upon this letter without delay." As he spoke he was scribbling hastily +a note. "Mr. Dunn, my young men have gone for the day. Might I trouble +you?" + +"Most certainly," cried Mr. Dunn. "Is an answer wanted?" + +"Bring him with you, if possible; indeed, bring him whether it is +possible or not. But wait, it is past the hour appointed. Already the +officer has gone for young Cameron. We must save him the humiliation of +arrest." + +"Oh, could I not warn him?" cried Miss Brodie eagerly. "No," she added, +"Rob will go. He is in the waiting room now, poor little chap. It will +be a joy to him." + +"It is just as well Rob should know nothing. He is awfully fond of +Cameron. It would break his heart," said Mr. Dunn. + +"Oh, of course! Quite unnecessary that he should know anything. We +simply wish Cameron here at the earliest possible moment." + +Dunn went with his young brother down the stairs and out to the street. +"Now, Rob, you are to go to Cameron's lodgings and tell him that Mr. Rae +wants him, and that I want him. Hold on, youngster!" he cried, grabbing +Rob by the collar, "do you understand? It is very important that Cameron +should get here as quick as he possibly can, and--I say, Rob," the big +brother's eyes traveled over the darkening streets that led up into the +old town, "you're not afraid?" + +"A wee bit," said Rob, tugging at the grasp on his collar; "but I don't +care if I am." + +"Good boy!" cried his brother. "Good little brick! I wouldn't let you +go, but it's simply got to be done, old chap. Now fly!" He held him just +a moment longer to slap him on the back, then released his hold. Dunn +stood watching the little figure tearing up the North Bridge. "Great +little soul!" he muttered. "Now for old Sheratt!" + +He put his head down and began to bore through the crowd toward Mr. +Sheratt's house. When he had gone but a little distance he was brought +up short by a bang full in the stomach. "Why, what the deuce!" + +"Dod gast ye! Whaur are ye're een?" It was Davie, breathless and furious +from the impact. "Wad ye walk ower me, dang ye?" cried the little man +again. Davie was Free Kirk, and therefore limited in the range of his +vocabulary. + +"Oh! That you, Davie? I'm sorry I didn't see you." + +"A'm no' as big as a hoose, but a'm veesible." And Davie walked +wrathfully about his business. + +"Oh, quite," acknowledged Dunn cheerfully, hurrying on; "and tangible, +as well." + +"He's comin'," cried Davie over his shoulder; "but gar it had been +masel'," he added grudgingly, "catch me!" + +But Dunn was too far on his way to make reply. Already his mind was on +the meeting of the lawyers in Mr. Rae's office, and wondering what would +come of it. On this subject he meditated until he reached Mr. Sheratt's +home. Twice he rang the bell, still meditating. + +"By Jove, she is stunning! She's a wonder!" he exclaimed to himself as +he stood in Mr. Sheratt's drawing-room. "She's got 'em all skinned a +mile, as Martin would say." It is safe to affirm that Mr. Dunn was not +referring to the middle-aged and highly respectable maid who had +opened the door to him. It is equally safe to affirm that this was the +unanimous verdict of the three men who, half an hour later, brought +their deliberations to a conclusion, frankly acknowledging to each +other that what they had one and all failed to achieve, the lady had +accomplished. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE WASTER'S REFUGE + + +"I say, you blessed Colonial, what's come over you?" Linklater was +obviously disturbed. He had just returned from a summer's yachting +through the Norway fjords, brown and bursting with life. The last +half-hour he had been pouring forth his experiences to his friend +Martin. These experiences were some of them exciting, some of them +of doubtful ethical quality, but all of them to Linklater at least +interesting. During the recital it was gradually borne in upon him that +his friend Martin was changed. Linklater, as the consciousness of the +change in his friend grew upon him, was prepared to resent it. "What the +deuce is the matter with you?" he enquired. "Are you ill?" + +"Never better. I could at this present moment sit upon your fat and +florid carcass." + +"Well, what then is wrong? I say, you haven't--it isn't a girl, is it?" + +"Nothing so lucky for a bloomin' Colonial in this land of wealth and +culture. If I only dared!" + +"There's something," insisted Linklater; "but I've no doubt it +will develop. Meantime let us go out, and, in your own picturesque +vocabulary, let us 'hit the flowing bowl.'" + +"No, Sir!" cried Martin emphatically. "No more! I am on the water wagon, +and have been all summer." + +"I knew it was something," replied Linklater gloomily, "but I didn't +think it was quite so bad as that. No wonder you've had a hard summer!" + +"Best summer ever!" cried Martin. "I only wish I had started two years +ago when I came to this bibulous burgh." + +"How came it? Religion?" + +"No; just horse sense, and the old chief." + +"Dunn!" exclaimed Linklater. "I always knew he was against that sort of +thing in training, but I didn't think he would carry it to this length." + +"Yes, Dunn! I say, old boy, I've no doubt you think you know him, I +thought so, too, but I've learned some this summer. Here's a yarn, and +it is impressive. Dunn had planned an extensive walking tour in the +Highlands; you know he came out of his exams awfully fagged. Well, at +this particular moment it happened that Balfour Murray--you know the +chap that has been running that settlement joint in the Canongate for +the last two years--proposes to Dunn that he should spend a few weeks +in leading the young hopefuls in that interesting and uncleanly +neighbourhood into paths of virtue and higher citizenship by way of +soccer and kindred athletic stunts. Dunn in his innocence agrees, +whereupon Balfour Murray promptly develops a sharp attack of pneumonia, +necessitating rest and change of air, leaving the poor old chief in the +deadly breach. Of course, everybody knows what the chief would do in any +deadly breach affair. He gave up his Highland tour, shouldered the whole +Canongate business, organised the thing as never before, inveigled all +his friends into the same deadly breach, among the number your humble +servant, who at the time was fiercely endeavouring in the last lap of +the course to atone for a two years' loaf, organised a champion team +which has licked the spots off everything in sight, and in short, has +made the whole business a howling success; at the cost, however, of all +worldly delights, including his Highland tour and the International." + +"Oh, I say!" moaned Linklater. "It makes me quite ill to think of the +old chief going off this way." + +Martin nodded sympathetically. "Kind of 'Days that are no more,' 'Lost +leader' feeling, eh?" + +"Exactly, exactly! Oh, it's rotten! And you, too! He's got you on this +same pious line." + +"Look here," shouted Martin, with menace in his voice, "are you +classifying me with the old chief? Don't be a derned fool." + +Linklater brightened perceptibly. "Now you're getting a little natural," +he said in a hopeful tone. + +"Oh, I suppose you'd like to hear me string out a lot of damns." + +"Well, it might help. I wouldn't feel quite so lonely. But don't +violate--" + +"I'd do it if I thought it would really increase your comfort, though +I know I'd feel like an infernal ass. I've got new light upon this +'damning' business. I've come to regard it as the refuge of the mentally +inert, not to say imbecile, who have lost the capacity for originality +and force in speech. For me, I am cured." + +"Ah!" said Linklater. "Dunn again, I suppose." + +"Not a bit! Clear case of psychological reaction. After listening to +the Canongate experts I was immediately conscious of an overwhelming +and mortifying sense of inadequacy, of amateurishness; hence I quit. +Besides, of course, the chief is making rather a point of uplifting the +Canongate forms of speech." + +Linklater gazed steadily at this friend, then said with mournful +deliberation, "You don't drink, you don't swear, you don't smoke--" + +"Oh, that's your grouch, is it?" cried Martin. "Forgive me; here's +my pouch, old chap; or wait, here's something altogether finer than +anything you've been accustomed to. I was at old Kingston's last night, +and the old boy would have me load up with his finest. You know I've +been working with him this summer. Awfully fine for me! Dunn got me on; +or rather, his governor. There you are now! Smoke that with reverence." + +"Ah," sighed Linklater, as he drew in his first whiff, "there is still +something left to live for. Now tell me, what about Cameron?" + +"Oh, Cameron! Cameron's all up a tree. The last time I saw him, by Jove, +I was glad it was in the open daylight and on a frequented street. His +face and manner suggested Roderick Dhu, The Black Douglas, and all the +rest of that interesting gang of cutthroats. I can't bring myself to +talk of Cameron. He's been the old chief's relaxation during dog-days. +It makes me hot to see Dunn with that chap." + +"Why, what's the trouble?" + +"He tried him out in half a dozen positions, in every one of which he +proved a dead failure. The last was in Mr. Rae's office, a lawyer, you +know, Writer, to use your lucid and luminous speech. That experiment +proved the climax." At the memory of that experience Martin laughed loud +and long. "It was funny! Mr. Rae, the cool, dignified, methodical, exact +man of the law, struggling to lick into shape this haughty Highland +chieftain, who in his heart scorned the whole silly business. The +result, the complete disorganisation of Mr. Rae's business, and +total demoralisation of Mr. Rae's office staff, who one and all swore +allegiance to the young chief. Finally, when Mr. Rae had reached the +depths of desperation, Cameron graciously deigned to inform his boss +that he found the office and its claims quite insupportable." + +"Oh, it must have been funny. What happened?" + +"What happened? You bet old Rae fell on his neck with tears of joy, and +sent him off with a handsome honorarium, as your gentle speech has it. +That was a fortnight ago. Then Dunn, in despair, took Cameron off to his +native haunts, and there he is to this day. By the same token, this is +the very afternoon that Dunn returns. Let us go to meet him with cornets +and cymbals! The unexpected pleasure of your return made me quite +forget. But won't he revel in you, old boy!" + +"I don't know about that," said Linklater gloomily. "I've a kind of +feeling that I've dropped out of this combination." + +"What?" Then Martin fell upon him. + +But if Martin's attempts to relieve his friend of melancholy forebodings +were not wholly successful, Dunn's shout of joy and his double-handed +shake as he grappled Linklater to him, drove from that young man's heart +the last lingering shade of doubt as to his standing with his friends. + +On his way home Dunn dropped into Martin's diggings for a "crack," and +for an hour the three friends reviewed the summer's happenings, each +finding in the experience of the others as keen a joy as in his own. + +Linklater's holiday had been the most fruitful in exciting incident. +For two months he and his crew had dodged about among quaint Norwegian +harbours and in and out of fjords of wonderful beauty. Storms they +had weathered and calms they had endured; lazy days they had spent, +swimming, fishing, loafing; and wild days in fighting gales and +high-running seas that threatened to bury them and their crew beneath +their white-topped mountainous peaks. + +"I say, that must have been great," cried Dunn with enthusiastic delight +in his friend's experiences. + +"It sounds good, even in the telling," cried Martin, who had been +listening with envious ears. "Now my experiences are quite other. One +word describes them, grind, grind, grind, day in and day out, in a +gallant but futile attempt to justify the wisdom of my late examiners in +granting me my Triple." + +"Don't listen to him, Linklater," said Dunn. "I happen to know that he +came through with banners flying and drums beating; and he has turned +into no end of a surgeon. I've heard old Kingston on him." + +"But what about you, Dunn?" asked Linklater, with a kind of curious +uncertainty in his voice, as if dreading a tale of calamity. + +"Oh, I've loafed about town a little, golfing a bit and slumming a +bit for a chap that got ill, and in spare moments looking after Martin +here." + +"And the International?" + +Dunn hesitated. + +"Come on, old chap," said Martin, "take your medicine." + +"Well," admitted Dunn, "I had to chuck it. But," he hastened to add, +"Nesbitt has got the thing in fine shape, though of course lacking the +two brilliant quarters of last year and the half--for Cameron's out of +it--it's rather rough on Nesbitt." + +"Oh, I say! It's rotten, it's really ghastly! How could you do it, +Dunn?" said Linklater. "I could weep tears of blood." + +To this Dunn made no reply. His disappointment was even yet too keen +for him to treat it lightly. "Anything else seemed quite impossible," at +length he said; "I had to chuck it." + +"By the way," said Martin, "how's Cameron?" + +Again Dunn paused. "I wish I could tell you. He's had hard luck this +summer. He somehow can't get hold of himself. In fact, I'm quite worried +about Cameron. I can't tell you chaps the whole story, but last spring +he had a really bad jolt." + +"Well, what's he going to do?" Martin asked, somewhat impatiently. + +"I wish I knew," replied Dunn gloomily. "There seems nothing he can +get here that's suitable. I'm afraid he will have to try the Colonies; +Canada for preference." + +"Oh, I say, Dunn," exclaimed Martin, "it can't really be as bad as all +that?" + +Dunn laughed. "I apologise, old chap. That was rather a bad break, +wasn't it? But all the same, to a Scotchman, and especially to a +Highlander, to leave home and friends and all that sort of thing, you +know--" + +"No, he doesn't know," cried Linklater. "The barbarian! How could he?" + +"No, thank God," replied Martin fervently, "I don't know! To my mind any +man that has a chance to go to Canada on a good job ought to call in his +friends and neighbours to rejoice with him." + +"But I say, that reminds me," said Dunn. "Mr. Rae is coming to have a +talk with my governor and me about this very thing to-morrow night. I'd +like awfully if you could drop in, Martin; and you, too, Linklater." + +Linklater declined. "My folks have something on, I fear." + +Martin hesitated, protesting that there was "altogether too much of this +coddling business" in the matter of Cameron's future. "Besides, my work +is rather crowding me." + +"Oh, my pious ancestors! Work!" exclaimed Linklater in disgust. "At this +season of the year! Come, Martin, this pose is unworthy of you." + +"If you could, old man," said Dunn earnestly, "we won't keep you long. +It would be a great help to us all." + +"All right, I'll come," said Martin. + +"There'll be no one there but Mr. Rae. We'll just have a smoke and a +chat." + +But in this expectation Dunn was reckoning without his young brother, +Rob, who, ever since a certain momentous evening, had entered into +a covenant of comradeship with the young lady who had figured so +prominently in the deliverance of his beloved Cameron from pending evil, +and who during the summer had allowed no week to pass without spending +at least a part of a day with her. On this particular evening, having +obtained leave from his mother, the young gentle man had succeeded in +persuading his friend to accept an invitation to dinner, assuring her +that no one would be there except Jack, who was to arrive home the day +before. + +The conclave of Cameron's friends found themselves, therefore, +unexpectedly reinforced by the presence of Miss Brodie, to the unmingled +joy of all of them, although in Martin's case his joy was tinged with a +certain fear, for he stood in awe of the young lady, both because of her +reputation for cleverness, and because of the grand air which, when it +pleased her, she could assume. Martin, too, stood in wholesome awe +of Doctor Dunn, whose quiet dignity and old-time courtesy exercised a +chastening influence upon the young man's somewhat picturesque style of +language and exuberance of metaphor. But with Mrs. Dunn he felt quite +at ease, for with that gentle, kindly soul, her boys' friends were her +friends and without question she took them to her motherly heart. + +Immediately upon Mr. Rae's arrival Cameron's future became the subject +of conversation, and it required only the briefest discussion to arrive +at the melancholy, inevitable conclusion that, as Mr. Rae put it, "for +a young man of his peculiar temperament, training, and habits, Scotland +was clearly impossible." + +"But I have no doubt," continued that excellent adviser, "that in +Canada, where the demand for a high standard of efficiency is less +exacting, and where openings are more plentiful, the young man will do +very well indeed." + +Martin took the lawyer up somewhat sharply. "In other words, I +understand you to mean that the man who is a failure in Scotland may +become a success in Canada." + +"Exactly so. Would you not say so, Mr. Martin?" + +"It depends entirely upon the cause of failure. If failure arises from +unfitness, his chances in Canada are infinitely less than in Scotland." + +"And why?" inquired Miss Brodie somewhat impatiently. + +Martin hesitated. It was extremely difficult in the atmosphere of that +home to criticise one whom he knew to be considered as a friend of the +family. + +"Why, pray?" repeated Miss Brodie. + +"Well, of course," began Martin hesitatingly, "comparisons are always +odious." + +"Oh, we can bear them." Miss Brodie's smile was slightly sarcastic. + +"Well, then, speaking generally," said Martin, somewhat nettled by her +smile, "in this country there are heaps of chaps that simply can't fall +down because of the supports that surround them, supports of custom, +tradition, not to speak of their countless friends, sisters, cousins, +and aunts; if they're anyways half decent they're kept a going; whereas +if they are in a new country and with few friends, they must stand alone +or fall. Here the crowd support them; there the crowd, eager to get on, +shove them aside or trample them down." + +"Rather a ghastly picture that," said Miss Brodie. + +"But true; that is, of the unfit. People haven't time to bother with +them; the game is too keen." + +"Surely the picture is overdrawn," said Doctor Dunn. + +"It may be, Sir," replied Martin, "but I have seen so many young fellows +who had been shipped out to Canada because they were failures at home. I +have seen them in very hard luck." + +"And what about the fit?" inquired Miss Brodie. + +"They get credit for every ounce that's in them." + +"But that is so in Scotland as well." + +"Pardon me, Miss Brodie, hardly. Here even strong men and fit men have +to wait half a lifetime for the chance that calls for all that's in +them. They must march in the procession and the pace is leisurely. In +Canada the chances come every day, and the man that's ready jumps in and +wins." + +"Ah, I see!" exclaimed Miss Brodie. "There are more ladders by which to +climb." + +"Yes," cried Martin, "and fewer men on them." + +"But," argued Dunn, "there are other causes of failure in this country. +Many a young fellow, for instance, cannot get a congenial position." + +"Yes," replied Martin quickly, "because you won't let him; your caste +law forbids. With us a man can do anything decent and no one thinks the +less of him." + +"Ah, I see!" again cried Miss Brodie, more eagerly than before. "Not +only more ladders, but more kinds of ladders." + +"Exactly," said Martin with an approving glance. "And he must not be too +long in the choosing." + +"Then, Mr. Martin," said Mr. Rae, "what would you suggest for our young +friend?" + +But this Martin refused to answer. + +"Surely there are openings for a young fellow in Canada," said Dunn. +"Take a fellow like myself. What could I do?" + +"You?" cried Martin, his eyes shining with loving enthusiasm. "There are +doors open on every business street in every town and city in Canada for +you, or for any fellow who has brain or brawn to sell and who will take +any kind of a job and stay with it." + +"Well, what job, for instance?" + +"What job?" cried Martin. "Heaps of them." + +At this point a diversion was created by the entrance of "Lily" +Laughton. Both Martin and Dunn envied the easy grace of his manner, his +perfect self-possession, as he greeted each member of the company. +For each he had exactly the right word. Miss Brodie he greeted with an +exaggerated devotion, but when he shook hands with Dunn there was no +mistaking the genuine warmth of his affection. + +"Heard you were home, old chap, so I couldn't help dropping in. Of +course I knew that Mrs. Dunn would be sure to be here, and I more than +suspected that my dear Miss Brodie," here he swept her an elaborate bow, +"whom I discovered to be away from her own home, might be found in this +pleasant company." + +"Yes, I fear that my devotion to her youngest boy is leading me to +overstep the bounds of even Mrs. Dunn's vast and generous hospitality." + +"Not a bit, my dear," replied Mrs. Dunn kindly. "You bring sunshine with +you, and you do us all good." + +"Exactly my sentiments!" exclaimed "Lily" with enthusiasm. "But what are +you all doing? Just having a 'collyshog'?" + +For a moment no one replied; then Dunn said, "We were just talking about +Cameron, who is thinking of going to Canada." + +"To Canada of all places!" exclaimed "Lily" in tones of horrified +surprise. "How truly dreadful! But why should Cameron of all beings +exile himself in those remote and barbarous regions?" + +"And why should he not?" cried Miss Brodie. "What is there for a young +man of spirit in Mr. Cameron's position in this country?" + +"Why, my dear Miss Brodie, how can you ask? Just think of the heaps of +things, of perfectly delicious things, Cameron can do,--the Highlands in +summer, Edinburgh, London, in the season, a run to the Continent! Just +think of the wild possibility of a life of unalloyed bliss!" + +"Don't be silly!" said Miss Brodie. "We are talking seriously." + +"Seriously! Why, my dear Miss Brodie, do you imagine--?" + +"But what could he do for a life-work?" said Dunn. "A fellow must have +something to do." + +"Oh, dear, I suppose so," said "Lily" with a sigh. "But surely he could +have some position in an office or something!" + +"Exactly!" replied Miss Brodie. "How beautifully you put it! Now Mr. +Martin was just about to tell us of the things a man could do in Canada +when you interrupted." + +"Awfully sorry, Martin. I apologise. Please go on. What do the natives +do in Canada?" + +"Please don't pay any attention to him, Mr. Martin. I am extremely +interested. Now tell me, what are the openings for a young fellow in +Canada? You said the professions are all wide open." + +It took a little persuasion to get Martin started again, so disgusted +was he with Laughton's references to his native country. "Yes, Miss +Brodie, the professions are all wide open, but of course men must enter +as they do here, but with a difference. Take law, for instance: Knew a +chap--went into an office at ten dollars a month--didn't know a thing +about it. In three months he was raised to twenty dollars, and within a +year to forty dollars. In three or four years he had passed his exams, +got a junior partnership worth easily two thousand dollars a year. They +wanted that chap, and wanted him badly. But take business: That chap +goes into a store and--" + +"A store?" inquired "Lily." + +"Yes, a shop you call it here; say a drygoods--" + +"Drygoods? What extraordinary terms these Colonials use!" + +"Oh, draper's shop," said Dunn impatiently. "Go on, Martin; don't mind +him." + +"A draper's clerk!" echoed "Lily." "To sell tapes and things?" + +"Yes," replied Martin stoutly; "or groceries." + +"Do you by any chance mean that a University man, a gentleman, takes a +position in a grocer's shop to sell butter and cheese?" + +"I mean just that," said Martin firmly. + +"Oh, please!" said "Lily" with a violent shudder. "It is too awful!" + +"There you are! You wouldn't demean yourself." + +"Not I!" said "Lily" fervently. + +"Or disgrace your friends. You want a gentleman's job. There are not +enough to go round in Canada." + +"Oh, go on," said Miss Brodie impatiently. "'Lily,' we must ask you to +not interrupt. What happens? Does he stay there?" + +"Not he!" said Martin. "From the small business he goes to bigger +business. First thing you know a man wants him for a big job and off he +goes. Meantime he saves his money, invests wisely. Soon he is his own +boss." + +"That's fine!" cried Miss Brodie. "Go on, Mr. Martin. Start him lower +down." + +"All right," said Martin, directing his attention solely to the young +lady. "Here's an actual case. A young fellow from Scotland found himself +strapped--" + +"Strapped? What DOES he mean?" said "Lily" in an appealing voice. + +"On the rocks." + +"Rocks?" + +"Dear me!" cried Miss Brodie impatiently. "You are terribly lacking in +imagination. Broke, he means." + +"Oh, thanks!" + +"Well, finds himself broke," said Martin; "gets a shovel, jumps into a +cellar--" + +"And why a cellar, pray?" inquires "Lily" mildly. "To hide himself from +the public?" + +"Not at all; they were digging a cellar preparatory to building a +house." + +"Oh!" + +"He jumps in, blisters his hands, breaks his back--but he stays with the +job. In a week the boss makes him timekeeper; in three months he himself +is boss of a small gang; the next year he is made foreman at a hundred a +month or so." + +"A hundred a month?" cries "Lily" in astonishment. "Oh, Martin, please! +We are green, but a hundred pounds a month--!" + +"Dollars," said Martin shortly. "Don't be an ass! I beg pardon," he +added, turning to Mrs. Dunn, who was meantime greatly amused. + +"A hundred dollars a month; that is--I am so weak in arithmetic--twenty +pounds, I understand. Go on, Martin; I'm waiting for the carriage and +pair." + +"That's where you get left," said Martin. "No carriage and pair for this +chap yet awhile; overalls and slouch hat for the next five years for +him. Then he begins contracting on his own." + +"I beg your pardon," says "Lily." + +"I mean he begins taking jobs on his own." + +"Great!" cried Miss Brodie. + +"Or," continued Martin, now fairly started on a favourite theme, "there +are the railroads all shouting for men of experience, whether in the +construction department or in the operating department." + +"Does anyone here happen to understand him?" inquires "Lily" faintly. + +"Certainly," cried Miss Brodie; "all the intelligent people do. At +least, I've a kind of notion there are big things doing. I only wish I +were a man!" + +"Oh, Miss Brodie, how can you?" cried "Lily." "Think of us in such a +contingency!" + +"But," said Mr. Rae, "all of this is most interesting, extremely +interesting, Mr. Martin. Still, they cannot all arrive at these exalted +positions." + +"No, Mr. Rae. I may have given that impression. I confess to a little +madness when I begin talking Canada." + +"Ah!" exclaimed "Lily." + +"But I said men of brawn and brains, you remember." + +"And bounce, to perfect the alliteration," murmured "Lily." + +"Yes, bounce, too," said Martin; "at least, he must never take +back-water; he must be ready to attempt anything, even the impossible." + +"That's the splendid thing about it!" cried Miss Brodie. "You're +entirely on your own and you never say die!" + +"Oh, my dear Miss Brodie," moaned "Lily" in piteous accents, "you are so +fearfully energetic! And then, it's all very splendid, but just think +of a--of a gentleman having to potter around among butter and cheese, +or mess about in muddy cellars! Ugh! Positively GHAWSTLY! I would simply +die." + +"Oh, no, you wouldn't, 'Lily,'" said Martin kindly. "We have afternoon +teas and Browning Clubs, too, you must remember, and some 'cultchaw' and +that sort of thing." + +There was a joyous shout from Dunn. + +"But, Mr. Martin," persisted Mr. Rae, whose mind was set in arriving at +a solution of the problem in hand, "I have understood that agriculture +was the chief pursuit in Canada." + +"Farming! Yes, it is, but of course that means capital. Good land in +Ontario means seventy-five to a hundred dollars per acre, and a man +can't do with less than a hundred acres; besides, farming is getting to +be a science now-a-days, Sir." + +"Ah, quite true! But to a young man bred on a farm in this country--" + +"Excuse me, Mr. Rae," replied Martin quickly, "there is no such thing in +Canada as a gentleman farmer. The farmer works with his men." + +"Do you mean that he actually works?" inquired "Lily." "With the plough +and hoe, and that sort of thing?" + +"Works all day long, as long as any of his men, and indeed longer." + +"And does he actually live--? of course he doesn't eat with his +servants?" said "Lily" in a tone that deprecated the preposterous +proposition. + +"They all eat together in the big kitchen," replied Martin. + +"How awful!" gasped "Lily." + +"My father does," replied Martin, a little colour rising in his cheek, +"and my mother, and my brothers. They all eat with the men; my sister, +too, except when she waits on table." + +"Fine!" exclaimed Miss Brodie. "And why not? 'Lily,' I'm afraid you're +horribly snobbish." + +"Thank the Lord," said "Lily" devoutly, "I live in this beloved +Scotland!" + +"But, Mr. Martin, forgive my persistence, I understand there is cheaper +land in certain parts of Canada; in, say, ManitoBAW." + +"Ah, yes, Sir, of course, lots of it; square miles of it!" cried Martin +with enthusiasm. "The very best out of doors, and cheap, but I fancy +there are some hardships in Manitoba." + +"But I see by the public newspapers," continued Mr. Rae, "that there is +a very large movement in the way of emigration toward that country." + +"Yes, there's a great boom on in Manitoba just now." + +"Boom?" said "Lily." "And what exactly may that be in the vernacular?" + +"I take it," said Mr. Rae, evidently determined not to allow the +conversation to get out of his hands, "you mean a great excitement +consequent upon the emigration and the natural rise in land values?" + +"Yes, Sir," cried Martin, "you've hit it exactly." + +"Then would there not be opportunity to secure a considerable amount of +land at a low figure in that country?" + +"Most certainly! But it's fair to say that success there means work and +hardship and privation. Of course it is always so in a new country; it +was so in Ontario. Why, the new settlers in Manitoba don't know what +hardships mean in comparison with those that faced the early settlers in +Ontario. My father, when a little boy of ten years, went with his father +into the solid forest; you don't know what that means in this country, +and no one can who has not seen a solid mass of green reaching from the +ground a hundred feet high without a break in it except where the trail +enters. Into that solid forest in single file went my grandfather, +his two little boys, and one ox carrying a bag of flour, some pork and +stuff. By a mark on a tree they found the corner of their farm." Martin +paused. + +"Do go on," said Miss Brodie. "Tell me the very first thing he did." + +But Martin seemed to hesitate. "Well," he began slowly, "I've often +heard my father tell it. When they came to that tree with the mark on +it, grandfather said, 'Boys, we have reached our home. Let us thank +God.' He went up to a big spruce tree, drove his ax in to the butt, then +kneeled down with the two little boys beside him, and I have heard my +father say that when he looked away up between the big trees and saw the +bit of blue sky there, he thought God was listening at that blue hole +between the tree-tops." Martin paused abruptly, and for a few moments +silence held the group. Then Doctor Dunn, clearing his throat, said with +quiet emphasis: + +"And he was right, my boy; make no doubt of that." + +"Then?" inquired Miss Brodie softly. "If you don't mind." + +Martin laughed. "Then they had grub, and that afternoon grandfather cut +the trees and the boys limbed them off, clearing the ground where the +first house stood. That night they slept in a little brush hut that did +them for a house until grandmother came two weeks later." + +"What?" said Doctor Dunn. "Your grandmother went into the forest?" + +"Yes, Sir," said Martin; "and two miles of solid black bush stretched +between her and the next woman." + +"Why, of course, my dear," said Mrs. Dunn, taking part for the first +time in the conversation. "What else?" + +They all laughed. + +"Of course, Mother," said her eldest son, "that's what you would do." + +"So would I, Mamma, wouldn't I?" whispered Rob, leaning towards her. + +"Certainly, my dear," replied his mother; "I haven't the slightest +doubt." + +"And so would any woman worth her salt if she loved her husband," cried +Miss Brodie with great emphasis. + +"Why, why," cried Doctor Dunn, "it's the same old breed, Mother." + +"But in Manitoba--?" began Mr. Rae, still clinging to the subject. + +"Oh, in Manitoba there is no forest to cut. However, there are other +difficulties. Still, hundreds are crowding in, and any man who has the +courage and the nerve to stay with it can get on." + +"And what did they do for schools?" said Mrs. Dunn, returning to the +theme that had so greatly interested her. + +"There were no schools until father was too big to be spared to go +except for a few weeks in the winter." + +"How big do you mean?" + +"Say fifteen." + +"Fifteen!" exclaimed Miss Brodie. "A mere infant!" + +"Infant!" said Martin. "Not much! At fifteen my father was doing a man's +full work in the bush and on the farm, and when he grew to be a man he +cleared most of his own land, too. Why, when I was eleven I drove my +team all day on the farm." + +"And how did you get your education, Mr. Martin?" + +"Oh, they kept me at school pretty steadily, except in harvest and hay +time, until I was fourteen, and after that in the winter months. When I +was sixteen I got a teacher's certificate, and then it was easy enough." + +"And did you put yourself through college?" inquired Mr. Rae, both +interest and admiration in his voice, for now they were on ground +familiar in his own experience. + +"Why, yes, mostly. Father helped, I suspect more than he ought to, but +he was anxious for me to get through." + +"Rob," cried Miss Brodie suddenly, "let's go! What do you say? We'll get +a big bit of that land in the West, and won't it be splendid to build up +our own estate and all that?" + +Rob glanced from her into his mother's face. "I'd like it fine, Mamma," +he said in a low voice, slipping his hand into hers. + +"But what about me, Rob?" said his mother, smiling tenderly down into +the eager face. + +"Oh, I'd come back for you, Mamma." + +"Hold on there, youngster," said his elder brother, "there are others +that might have something to say about that. But I say, Martin," +continued Dunn, "we hear a lot about the big ranches further West." + +"Yes, in Alberta, but I confess I don't know much about them. The +railways are just building and people are beginning to go in. But +ranching needs capital, too. It must be a great life! They practically +live in the saddle. It's a glorious country!" + +"On the whole, then," said Mr. Rae, as if summing up the discussion, "a +young man has better opportunities of making his fortune, so to speak, +in the far West rather than in, say, Ontario." + +"I didn't speak of fortune, Mr. Rae,--fortune is a chance thing, more or +less,--but what I say is this, that any young man not afraid of work, +of any kind of work, and willing to stay with his job, can make a living +and get a home in any part of Canada, with a bigger chance of fortune in +the West." + +"All I say, Mr. Rae, is this," said Miss Brodie emphatically, "that I +only wish I were a man with just such a chance as young Cameron!" + +"Ah, my dear young lady, if all the young men were possessed of your +spirit, it would matter little where they went, for they would achieve +distinct success." As he spoke Mr. Rae's smile burst forth in all its +effulgent glory. + +"Dear Mr. Rae, how very clever of you to discover that!" replied Miss +Brodie, smiling sweetly into Mr. Rae's radiant face. "And how very sweet +of you--ah, I beg your pardon; that is--" The disconcerting rapidity +with which Mr. Rae's smile gave place to an appearance of grave, of even +severe solemnity, threw Miss Brodie quite "out of her stride," as +Martin said afterward, and left her floundering in a hopeless attempt to +complete her compliment. + +Her confusion was the occasion of unlimited joy to "Lily," who was not +unfamiliar with this facial phenomenon on the part of Mr. Rae. "Oh, I +say!" he cried to Dunn in a gale of smothered laughter, "how does the +dear man do it? It is really too lovely! I must learn the trick of that. +I have never seen anything quite so appallingly flabbergasting." + +Meantime Mr. Rae was blandly assisting Miss Brodie out of her dilemma. +"Not at all, Miss Brodie, not at all! But," he continued, throwing +his smile about the room, "I think, Doctor Dunn, we have reason to +congratulate ourselves upon not only a pleasant but an extremely +profitable evening--ah--as far as the matter in hand is concerned. I +hope to have further speech with our young friend," bowing to Mr. Martin +and bringing his smile to bear upon that young gentleman. + +"Oh, certainly," began Martin with ready geniality, "whenever you--eh? +What did you say, Sir? I didn't quite--" + +But Mr. Rae was already bidding Mrs. Dunn goodnight, with a face of +preternatural gravity. + +"What the deuce!" said Martin, turning to his friend Dunn. "Does the old +boy often go off at half-cock that way? He'll hurt himself some time, +sure." + +"Isn't it awful?" said Dunn. "He's got me a few times that way, too. But +I say, old boy, we're awfully grateful to you for coming." + +"I feel like a fool," said Martin; "as if I'd been delivering a +lecture." + +"Don't think it," cried Miss Brodie, who had drawn near. "You've been +perfectly lovely, and I am so glad to have got to know you better. For +me, I am quite resolved to go to Canada." + +"But do you think they can really spare us all, Miss Brodie?" exclaimed +"Lily" in an anxious voice. "For, of course, if you go we must." + +"No, 'Lily,' I'm quite sure they can't spare you. Just think, what could +the Browning-Wagner circle do? Besides, what could we do with you when +we were all working, for I can quite see that there is no use going to +Canada unless you mean to work?" + +"You've got it, Miss Brodie," said Martin. "My lecture is not in vain. +There is no use going to Canada unless you mean to work and to stay with +the job till the cows come home." + +"Till the cows come--?" gasped "Lily." + +"Oh, never mind him, Mr. Martin! Come, 'Lily' dear, I'll explain it to +you on the way home. Good-night, Mr. Dunn; we've had a jolly evening. +And as for our friend Cameron, I've ceased to pity him; on the contrary, +I envy him his luck." + + + +CHAPTER VII + +FAREWELL TO CUAGH OIR + + +Once more the golden light of a sunny spring day was shining on the +sapphire loch at the bottom, and overflowing at the rim of the Cuagh +Oir. But for all its flowing gold, there was grief in the Glen--grief +deep and silent, like the quiet waters of the little loch. It was seen +in the grave faces of the men who gathered at the "smiddy." It was heard +in the cadence of the voices of the women as they gathered to "kalie" +(Ceilidh) in the little cottages that fringed the loch's side, or dotted +the heather-clad slopes. It even checked the boisterous play of the +bairns as they came in from school. It lay like a cloud on the Cuagh, +and heavy on the hearts that made up the little hill-girt community of +one hundred souls, or more. + +And the grief was this, that on the "morrow's morn" Mary Robertson's son +was departing from the Glen "neffer to return for effermore," as Donald +of the House farm put it, with a face gloomy as the loch on a dark +winter's day. + +"A leaving" was ever an occasion of wailing to the Glen, and many a +leaving had the Glen known during the last fifty years. For wherever +the tartan waved, and the bonnie feathers danced for the glory of the +Empire, sons of the Glen were ever to be found; but not for fifty years +had the heart of the Glen known the luxury of a single rallying centre +for their pride and their love till the "young chentleman," young Mr. +Allan, began to go in and out among them. And as he grew into manhood so +grew their pride in him. And as, from time to time, at the Great Games +he began to win glory for the Glen with his feats of skill and strength, +and upon the pipes, and in the dances, their pride in him grew until +it passed all limits. Had he not, the very year before he went to the +college, cut the comb of the "Cock of the North" from Glen Urquhart, +in running and jumping; and the very same year had he not wrested +from Callum Bheg, the pride of Athole, the coveted badge of Special +Distinction in Highland Dancing? Then later, when the schoolmaster would +read from the Inverness Courier to one group after another at the post +office and at the "smiddy" (it was only fear of the elder MacPherson, +that kept the master from reading it aloud at the kirk door before the +service) accounts of the "remarkable playing" of Cameron, the brilliant +young "half-back" of the Academy in Edinburgh, the Glen settled down +into an assured conviction that it had reached the pinnacle of vicarious +glory, and that in all Scotland there was none to compare with their +young "chieftain" as, quite ignoring the Captain, they loved to call +him. + +And there was more than pride in him, for on his holidays he came back +to the Glen unspoiled by all his honours and achievements, and went +about among them "jist like ain o' their ain sels," accepting their +homage as his right, but giving them in return, according to their +various stations, due respect and honour, and their love grew greater +than their pride. + +But the "morrow's morn" he was leaving the Glen, and, worse than all, no +one knew for why. A mystery hung over the cause of his going, a mystery +deepened by his own bearing during the past twelve months, for all these +months a heavy gloom had shrouded him, and from all that had once been +his delight and their glory he had withdrawn. The challenge, indeed, +from the men of Glen Urquhart which he had accepted long ago, he refused +not, but even the overwhelming defeat which he had administered to his +haughty challengers, had apparently brought him no more than a passing +gleam of joy. The gloom remained unlifted and the cause the Glen knew +not, and no man of them would seek to know. Hence the grief of the +Glen was no common grief when the son of Mary Robertson, the son of the +House, the pride of the Glen, and the comrade and friend of them all, +was about to depart and never to return. + +His last day in the Glen Allan spent making his painful way through +the cottages, leaving his farewell, and with each some slight gift of +remembrance. It was for him, indeed, a pilgrimage of woe. It was not +only that his heart roots were in the Glen and knit round every stick +and stone of it; it was not that he felt he was leaving behind him a +love and loyalty as deep and lasting as life itself. It was that in +tearing himself from them he could make no response to the dumb appeal +in the eyes that followed him with adoration and fidelity: "Wherefore +do you leave us at all?" and "Why do you make no promise of return?" To +that dumb appeal there was no answer possible from one who carried on +his heart for himself, and on his life for some few others, and among +these his own father, the terrible brand of the criminal. It was this +grim fact that stained black the whole landscape of his consciousness, +and that hung like a pall of death over every living and delightsome +thing in the garden of his soul. While none could, without challenge, +condemn him, yet his own tongue refused to proclaim his innocence. +Every face he loved drove deeper into his heart his pain. The deathless +loyalty and unbounded pride of the Glen folk rebuked him, without their +knowing, for the dishonour he had done them. The Glen itself, the hills, +the purpling heather, the gleaming loch, how dear to him he had never +known till now, threw in his face a sad and silent reproach. Small +wonder that the Glen, that Scotland had become intolerable to him. With +this bitter burden on his heart it was that young Mr. Allan went his way +through the Glen making his farewells, not daring to indulge the luxury +of his grief, and with never a word of return. + +His sister, who knew all, and who would have carried--oh! how +gladly!--on her own heart, and for all her life long, that bitter +burden, pleaded to be allowed to go with him on what she knew full well +was a journey of sorrow and sore pain, but this he would not permit. +This sorrow and pain which were his own, he would share with no one, +and least of all with her upon whose life he had already cast so dark +a shadow. Hence she was at the house alone, her father not having yet +returned from an important meeting at a neighbouring village, when a +young man came to the door asking for young Mr. Cameron. + +"Who is it, Kirsty?" she inquired anxiously, a new fear at her heart for +her brother. + +"I know not, but he has neffer been in this Glen before whateffer," +replied Kirsty, with an ominous shake of the head, her primitive +instincts leading her to view the stranger with suspicion. "But!" she +added, with a glance at her young mistress' face, "he iss no man to be +afraid of, at any rate. He is just a laddie." + +"Oh, he is a YOUNG man, Kirsty?" replied her mistress, glancing at her +blue serge gown, her second best, and with her hands striving to tuck in +some of her wayward curls. + +"Och, yess, and not much at that!" replied Kirsty, with the idea of +relieving her young mistress of unnecessary fears. + +Then Moira, putting on her grand air, stepped into the parlour, and saw +standing there and awaiting her, a young man with a thin and somewhat +hard face, a firm mouth, and extraordinarily keen, grey eyes. Upon her +appearing the young man stood looking upon her without a word. As a +matter of fact, he was struggling with a problem; a problem that was +quite bewildering; the problem, namely, "How could hair ever manage +to get itself into such an arrangement of waves and curls, and golden +gleams and twinkles?" Struggling with this problem, he became conscious +of her voice gravely questioning him. "You were wishing to see my +brother?" The young man came back part way, and replied, "Oh! how does +it--? That is--. I beg your pardon." The surprise in her face brought +him quite to the ground, and he came at once to his business. "I am Mr. +Martin," he said in a quick, sharp voice. "I know your brother and Mr. +Dunn." He noted a light dawn in her eyes. "In fact, I played with them +on the same team--at football, you know." + +"Oh!" cried the girl, relief and welcome in her voice, "I know you, +Mr. Martin, quite well. I know all about you, and what a splendid +quarter-back you are." Here she gave him both her hands, which Mr. +Martin took in a kind of dream, once more plunged into the mazes of +another and more perplexing problem, viz., Was it her lips with that +delicious curve to them? or her eyes so sunny and brown (or were they +brown?) with that alluring, bewitching twinkle? or was it both lips and +eyes that gave to the smile with which she welcomed him its subtle power +to make his heart rise and choke him as it never had been known to do in +the most strenuous of his matches? "I'm awfully glad," he heard himself +say, and her voice replying, "Oh, yes! Allan has often and often spoken +of you, Mr. Martin." Mr. Martin immediately became conscious of a +profound and grateful affection to Allan, still struggling, however, +with the problem which had been complicated still further by the charm +of her soft, Highland voice. He was on the point of deciding in favour +of her voice, when on her face he noted a swift change from glad welcome +to suspicion and fear, and then into her sunny eyes a sudden leaping of +fierce wrath, as in those of a lioness defending her young. + +"Why do you look so?" she cried in a voice sharp and imperious. "Is it +my brother--? Is anything wrong?" + +The shock of the change in eyes and voice brought Martin quite to +himself. + +"Wrong? Not a bit," he hastened to say, "but just the finest thing in +the world. It is all here in this letter. Dunn could not come himself, +and there was no one else, and he thought Cameron ought to have it +to-day, so here I am, and here is the letter. Where is he?" + +"Oh!" cried the girl, clasping her hands upon her heart, her voice +growing soft, and her eyes dim with a sudden mist. "I am so thankful! +I am so glad!" The change in her voice and in her eyes so affected Mr. +Martin that he put his hands resolutely behind his back lest they should +play him tricks, and should, without his will, get themselves round her +and draw her close to his heart. + +"So am I," he said, "awfully glad! Never was so glad in all my life!" He +was more conscious than ever of bewilderment and perplexity in the midst +of increasing problems that complicated themselves with mist brown eyes, +trembling lips, and a voice of such pathetic cadences as aroused in +him an almost uncontrollable desire to exercise his utmost powers of +comfort. And all the while there was growing in his heart a desperate +anxiety as to what would be the final issue of these bewildering desires +and perplexities; when at the extremity of his self-control he was saved +by the girl's suggestion. + +"Let us go and find my brother." + +"Oh, yes!" cried Martin, "for heaven's sake let us." + +"Wait until I get my hat." + +"Oh! I wouldn't put on a hat," cried he in dismay. + +"Why?" enquired the girl, looking at him with surprised curiosity. + +"Oh! because--because you don't need one; it's so beautiful and sunny, +you know." In spite of what he could do Mr. Martin's eyes kept wandering +to her hair. + +"Oh, well!" cried Moira, in increasing surprise at this strange young +man, "the sun won't hurt me, so come, let us go." + +Together they went down the avenue of rugged firs. At the highway +she paused. Before them lay the Glen in all the splendid sweep of its +beauty. + +"Isn't it lovely!" she breathed. + +"Lovely!" echoed Martin, his eyes not on the Glen. "It is so sunny, you +know." + +"Yes," she answered quickly, "you notice that?" + +"How could I help it?" said Martin, his eyes still resting upon her. +"How could I?" + +"Of course," she replied, "and so we call it the Glen Cuagh Oir, that +is the 'Glen of the Cup of Gold.' And to think he has to leave it all +to-morrow!" she added. + +The pathetic cadences in her voice again drove Martin to despair. He +recovered himself, however, to say, "But he is going to Canada!" + +"Yes, to Canada. And we all feel it so dreadfully for him, and," she +added in a lower voice, "for ourselves." + +Had it been yesterday Martin would have been ready with scorn for any +such feeling, and with congratulations to Cameron upon his exceptionally +good luck in the expectation of going to Canada; but to-day, somehow it +was different. He found the splendid lure of his native land availed not +to break the spell of the Glen, and as he followed the girl in and out +of the little cottages, seeking her brother, and as he noted the perfect +courtesy and respect which marked her manner with the people, and their +unstudied and respectful devotion to their "tear young leddy," this +spell deepened upon him. Unconsciously and dimly he became aware of a +mysterious and mighty power somehow and somewhere in the Glen straining +at the heart-strings of its children. Of the nature and origin of this +mysterious and mighty power, the young Canadian knew little. His +country was of too recent an origin for mystery, and its people too +heterogeneous in their ethnic characteristics to furnish a soil for +tribal instincts and passions. The passionate loves and hatreds of the +clans, their pride of race, their deathless lealty; and more than all, +and better than all, their religious instincts, faiths and prejudices; +these, with the mystic, wild loveliness of heather-clad hill and +rock-rimmed loch, of roaring torrent and jagged crags, of lonely muir +and sunny pasture nuiks; all these, and ten thousand nameless and +unnamable things united in the weaving of the spell of the Glen upon the +hearts of its people. Of how it all came to be, Martin knew nothing, +but like an atmosphere it stole in upon him, and he came to vaguely +understand something of what it meant to be a Highlander, and to bid +farewell to the land into whose grim soil his life roots had struck +deep, and to tear himself from hearts whose life stream and his had +flowed as one for a score of generations. So from cot to cot Martin +followed and observed, until they came to the crossing where the broad +path led up from the highroad to the kirkyard and the kirk. Here they +were halted by a young man somewhat older than Martin. Tall and gaunt +he stood. His face, pale and pock-marked and lit by light blue eyes, and +crowned by brilliant red hair, was, with all its unloveliness, a face of +a certain rugged beauty; while his manner and bearing showed the native +courtesy of a Highland gentleman. + +"You are seeking Mr. Allan?" he said, taking off his bonnet to the girl. +"He is in yonder," waving his hand towards the kirkyard. + +"In yonder? You are sure, Mr. Maclise?" She might well ask, for never +but on Sabbath days, since the day they had laid his mother away under +the birch trees, had Allan put foot inside the kirkyard. + +"Half an hour ago he went in," replied the young Highlander, "and he has +not returned." + +"I will go in, then," said the girl, and hesitated, unwilling that a +stranger's eyes should witness what she knew was waiting her there. + +"You, Sir, will perhaps abide with me," suggested Mr. Maclise to Martin, +with a quick understanding of her hesitation. + +"Oh, thank you," cried Moira. "This is Mr. Martin from Canada, Mr. +Maclise--my brother's great friend. Mr. Maclise is our schoolmaster +here," she added, turning to Martin, "and we are very proud of him." +The Highlander's pale face became the colour of his brilliant hair as he +remarked, "You are very good indeed, Miss Cameron, and I am glad to make +the acquaintance of Mr. Martin. It will give me great pleasure to show +Mr. Martin the little falls at the loch's end, if he cares to step that +far." If Mr. Martin was conscious of any great desire to view the little +falls at the loch's end, his face most successfully dissembled any such +feeling, but to the little falls he must go as the schoolmaster quietly +possessed himself of him and led him away, while Miss Cameron, with +never a thought of either of them, passed up the broad path into the +kirkyard. There, at the tower's foot, she came upon her brother, prone +upon the little grassy mound, with arms outspread, as if to hold it in +embrace. At the sound of his sister's tread upon the gravel, he raised +himself to his knees swiftly, and with a fierce gesture, as if resenting +intrusion. + +"Oh, it is you, Moira," he said quietly, sinking down upon the grass. At +the sight of his tear-stained, haggard face, the girl ran to him with +a cry, and throwing herself down beside him put her arms about him with +inarticulate sounds of pity. At length her brother raised himself from +the ground. + +"Oh, it is terrible to leave it all," he groaned; "yet I am glad to +leave, for it is more terrible to stay; the very Glen I cannot look at; +and the people, I cannot bear their eyes. Oh," he groaned, wringing his +hands, "if she were here she would understand, but there is nobody." + +"Oh, Allan," cried his sister in reproach. + +"Oh, yes, I know! I know! You believe in me, Moira, but you are just a +lassie, and you cannot understand." + +"Yes, you know well I believe in you, Allan, and others, too, believe in +you. There is Mr. Dunn, and--" + +"Oh, I don't know," said her brother bitterly, "he wants to believe it." + +"Yes, and there is Mr. Martin," she continued, "and--Oh, I forgot! here +is a letter Mr. Martin brought you." + +"Martin?" + +"Yes, your Martin, a strange little man; your quarter-back, you know. He +brought this, and he says it is good news." But already Allan was into +his letter. As he read his face grew white, his hand began to shake, his +eyes to stare as if they would devour the very paper. The second time he +read the letter his whole body trembled, and his breath came in gasps, +as if he were in a physical struggle. Then lifting arms and voice +towards the sky, he cried in a long, low wail, "Oh God, it is good, it +is good!" + +With that he laid himself down prone upon the mound again, his face in +the grass, sobbing brokenly, "Oh, mother, mother dear, I have got you +once more; I have got you once more!" + +His sister stood, her hands clasped upon her heart--a manner she +had--her tears, unnoted, flowing down her cheeks, waiting till her +brother should let her into his joy, as she had waited for entrance into +his grief. His griefs and his joys were hers, and though he still +held her a mere child, it was with a woman's self-forgetting love she +ministered to him, gladly accepting whatever confidence he would give, +but content to wait until he should give more. So she stood waiting, +with her tears flowing quietly, and her face alight with wonder and joy +for him. But as her brother's sobbing continued, this terrible display +of emotion amazed her, startled her, for since their mother's death none +of them had seen Allan weep. At length he raised himself from the ground +and stood beside her. + +"Oh, Moira, lassie, I never knew how terrible it was till now. I had +lost everything, my friends, you, and," he added in a low voice, "my +mother. This cursed thing shut me out from all; it got between me and +all I ever loved. I have not for these months been able to see her face +clear, but do you know, Moira," here his voice fell and the mystic light +grew in his eyes, "I saw her again just now as clear as clear, and +I know I have got her again; and you, too, Moira, darling," here he +gathered his sister to him, "and the people! and the Glen! Oh! is it not +terrible what a crime can do? How it separates you from your folk, and +from all the world, for, mind you, I have felt myself a criminal; but I +am not! I am not!" His voice rose into an exultant shout, "I am clear of +it, I am a man again! Oh, it is good! it is good! Here, read the letter, +it will prove to you." + +"Oh, what does it matter at all, Allan," she cried, still clinging to +him, "as if it made any difference to me. I always knew it." + +Her brother lifted her face from his breast and looked into her eyes. +"Do you tell me you don't want to know the proof of it?" he asked in +wonder. "No," she said simply. "Why should I need any proof? I always +knew it." + +For a moment longer he gazed upon her, then said, "Moira, you are a +wonder, lassie. No, you are a lassie no longer, you are a woman, and, do +you know, you are like mother to me now, and I never saw it." + +She smiled up at him through her tears. "I should like to be," she said +softly. Then, because she was truly Scotch, she added, "for your sake, +for I love you terribly much; and I am going to lose you." + +A quiver passed through her frame, and her arms gripped him tight. In +the self-absorption in his grief and pain he had not thought of hers, +nor considered how with his going her whole life would be changed. + +"I have been a selfish brute," he muttered. "I have only thought of my +own suffering; but, listen Moira, it is all past; thank God, it is +all past. This letter from Mr. Rae holds a confession from Potts (poor +Potts! I am glad that Rae let him off): it was Potts who committed the +forgery. Now I feel myself clean again; you can't know what that is; to +be yourself again, and to be able to look all men in the face without +fear or shame. Come, we must go; I must see them all again. Let us to +the burn first, and put my face right." + +A moment he stood looking down upon his mother's grave. The hideous +thing that had put her far from him, and that had blurred the clear +vision of her face, was gone. A smile soft and tender as a child's stole +over his face, and with that smile he turned away. As they were +coming back from the burn, Martin and the schoolmaster saw them in the +distance. + +"Bless me, man, will you look at him?" said the master in an awestruck +tone, clutching Martin's arm. "What ever is come to him?" + +"What's up," cried Martin. "By Jove! you're right! the Roderick Dhu and +Black Douglas business is gone, sure!" + +"God bless my soul!" said Maclise in an undertone. "He is himself once +more." + +He might well exclaim, for it was a new Allan that came striding up +the high road, with head lifted, and with the proud swing of a Highland +chieftain. + +"Hello, old man!" he shouted, catching sight of Martin and running +towards him with hands outstretched, "You are welcome"--he grasped +his hands and held them fast--"you are welcome to this Glen, and to me +welcome as Heaven to a Hell-bound soul." + +"Maclise," he cried, turning to the master, "this letter," waving it in +his hand, "is like a reprieve to a man on the scaffold." Maclise stood +gazing in amazement at him. + +"They accused me of crime!" + +"Of crime, Mr. Allan?" Maclise stiffened in haughty surprise. + +"Yes, of base crime!" + +"But this letter completely clears him," cried Martin eagerly. + +Maclise turned upon him with swift scorn, "There was no need, for anyone +in this Glen whatever." The Highlander's face was pale, and in his light +blue eyes gleamed a fierce light. + +Martin flashed a look upon the girl standing so proudly erect beside +her brother, and reflecting in her face and eyes the sentiments of the +schoolmaster. + +"By Jove! I believe you," cried Martin with conviction, "it is not +needed here, but--but there are others, you know." + +"Others?" said the Highlander with fine scorn, "and what difference?" + +The Glen folk needed no clearing of their chief, and the rest of the +world mattered not. + +"But there was myself," said Allan. "Now it is gone, Maclise, and I can +give my hand once more without fear or shame." + +Maclise took the offered hand almost with reverence, and, removing his +bonnet from his head, said in a voice, deep and vibrating with emotion, + +"Neffer will a man of the Glen count it anything but honour to take +thiss hand." + +"Thank you, Maclise," cried Allan, keeping his grip of the master's +hand. "Now you can tell the Glen." + +"You will not be going to leave us now?" said Maclise eagerly. + +"Yes, I shall go, Maclise, but," with a proud lift of his head, "tell +them I am coming back again." + +And with that message Maclise went to the Glen. From cot to cot and from +lip to lip the message sped, that Mr. Allan was himself again, and that, +though on the morrow's morn he was leaving the Glen, he himself had +promised that he would return. + +That evening, as the gloaming deepened, the people of the Glen gathered, +as was their wont, at their cottage doors to listen to old piper +Macpherson as he marched up and down the highroad. This night, it was +observed, he no longer played that most heart-breaking of all +Scottish laments, "Lochaber No More." He had passed up to the no less +heart-thrilling, but less heartbreaking, "Macrimmon's Lament." In a +pause in Macpherson's wailing notes there floated down over the Glen the +sound of the pipes up at the big House. + +"Bless my soul! whisht, man!" cried Betsy Macpherson to her spouse. +"Listen yonder!" For the first time in months they heard the sound of +Allan's pipes. + +"It is himself," whispered the women to each other, and waited. Down the +long avenue of ragged firs, and down the highroad, came young Mr. Allan, +in all the gallant splendour of his piper's garb, and the tune he played +was no lament, but the blood-stirring "Gathering of the Gordons." As +he came opposite to Macpherson's cottage he gave the signal for the old +piper, and down the highroad stepped the two of them together, till they +passed beyond the farthest cottage. Then back again they swung, and this +time it was to the "Cock of the North," that their tartans swayed and +their bonnets nodded. Thus, not with woe and lamentation, but with good +hope and gallant cheer, young Mr. Allan took his leave of the Glen Cuagh +Oir. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +WILL HE COME BACK? + + +It was the custom in Doctor Dunn's household that, immediately after +dinner, his youngest son would spend half an hour in the study with his +father. It was a time for confidences. During this half hour father and +son met as nearly as possible on equal terms, discussing, as friends +might, the events of the day or the plans for the morrow, school work +or athletics, the latest book or the newest joke; and sometimes the talk +turned upon the reading at evening prayers. This night the story had +been one of rare beauty and of absorbing interest, the story, viz., of +that idyllic scene on the shore of Tiberias where the erring disciple +was fully restored to his place in the ranks of the faithful, as he had +been restored, some weeks before, to his place in the confidence of his +Master. + +"That was a fine story, Rob?" began Doctor Dunn. + +"That it was," said Rob gravely. "It was fine for Peter to get back +again." + +"Just so," replied his father. "You see, when a man once turns his back +on his best Friend, he is never right till he gets back again." + +"Yes, I know," said Rob gravely. For a time he sat with a shadow of +sadness and anxiety on his young face. "It is terrible!" he exclaimed. + +"Terrible?" inquired the Doctor. "Oh, yes, you mean Peter's fall? Yes, +that was a terrible thing--to be untrue to our Master and faithless to +our best Friend." + +"But he did not mean to, Dad," said Rob quickly, as if springing to +the fallen disciple's defence. "He forgot, just for a moment, and was +awfully sorry afterwards." + +"Yes, truly," said his father, "and that was the first step back." + +For a few moments Rob remained silent, his face sad and troubled. + +"Man! It must be terrible!" at length he said, more to himself than +to his father. The Doctor looked closely at the little lad. The eager, +sensitive face, usually so radiant, was now clouded and sad. + +"What is it, Rob? Is it something you can tell me?" asked his father in +a tone of friendly kindness. + +Rob moved closer to him. The father waited in silence. He knew better +than to force an unwilling confidence. At length the lad, with an +obvious effort at self-command, said: + +"It is to-morrow, Daddy, that Cameron--that Mr. Cameron is going away." + +"To-morrow? So it is. And you will be very sorry, Rob. But, of course, +he will come back." + +"Oh, Dad," cried Rob, coming quite close to his father, "it isn't that! +It isn't that!" + +His father waited. He did not understand his boy's trouble, and so he +wisely refrained from uttering word that might hinder rather than help. +At length, with a sudden effort, Rob asked in a low, hurried voice: + +"Do you think, Dad, he has--got--back?" + +"Got back?" said his father. "Oh, I see. Why, my boy? What do you know +of it? Did you know there was a letter from a man named Potts, that +completely clears your friend of all crime?" + +"Is there?" asked the boy quickly. "Man! That is fine! But I always knew +he could not do anything really bad--I mean, anything that the police +could touch him for. But it is not that, Dad. I have heard Jack say he +used to be different when he came down first, and now sometimes he--" +The lad's voice fell silent. He could not bring himself to accuse his +hero of any evil. His father drew him close to his side. + +"You mean that he has fallen into bad ways--drink, and things like +that?" + +The boy hung his head; he was keenly ashamed for his friend. After a few +moments' silence he said: + +"And he is going away to Canada to-morrow, and I wonder, Dad, if he +has--got--back? It would be terrible--Oh, Dad, all alone and away +from--!" + +The boy's voice sank to a whisper, and a rush of tears filled his eyes. + +"I see what you mean, my boy. You mean it would be terrible for him to +be in that far land, and away from that Friend we know and love best." + +The lad looked at his father through his tears, and nodded his head, and +for some moments there was silence between them. If the truth must be +told, Doctor Dunn felt himself keenly rebuked by his little son's words. +Amid the multitude of his responsibilities, the responsibility for his +sons' best friend he had hardly realised. + +"I am glad that you spoke of it, Rob; I am glad that you spoke of it. +Something will be done. It is not, after all, in our hands. Still, we +must stand ready to help. Good-night, my boy. And remember, it is always +good to hurry back to our best Friend, if ever we get away from Him." + +The boy put his arms around his father's neck and kissed him good-night; +then, kissing him again, he whispered: "Thank you, Daddy." + +And from the relief in his tone the father recognised that upon him the +lad had laid all the burden of his solicitude for his friend. + +Later in the evening, when his elder son came home, the father called +him in, and frankly gave him the substance of the conversation of the +earlier part of the evening. + +Jack laughed somewhat uneasily. "Oh, Rob is an awfully religious little +beggar; painfully so, I think, sometimes--you know what I mean, Sir," he +added, noticing the look on his father's face. + +"I am not sure that I do, Jack," said his father, "but I want to tell +you, that as far as I am concerned, I felt distinctly rebuked at the +little chap's anxiety for his friend in a matter of such vital import. +His is a truly religious little soul, as you say, but I wonder if his +type is not more nearly like the normal than is ours. Certainly, if +reality, simplicity, sincerity are the qualities of true religious +feeling--and these, I believe, are the qualities emphasised by the +Master Himself--then it may indeed be that the boy's type is nearer the +ideal than ours." + +At this point Mrs. Dunn entered the room. + +"Anything private?" she enquired with a bright smile at her husband. + +"Not at all! Come in!" said Doctor Dunn, and he proceeded to repeat the +conversation with his younger son, and his own recent comment thereupon. + +"I am convinced," he added, "that there is a profundity of meaning in +those words, 'Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little +child, he shall not enter therein,' that we have not yet fathomed. I +suspect Wordsworth is not far astray when he suggests that with the +passing years we grow away from the simplicity of our faith and the +clearness of our vision. There is no doubt that to Rob, Jesus is as real +as I am." + +"There is no doubt of that," said his wife quickly. + +"Not only as real, but quite as dear; indeed, dearer. I shall never +forget the shock I received when I heard him one day, as a wee, wee boy, +classifying the objects of his affection. I remember the ascending scale +was: 'I love Jack and Daddy just the same, then mother, then Jesus.' It +was always in the highest place, Jesus; and I believe that the scale is +the same to-day, unless Jack," she added, with a smile at her son, "has +moved to his mother's place." + +"Not much fear of that, mother," said Jack, "but I should not be +surprised if you are quite right about the little chap. He is a queer +little beggar!" + +"There you are again, Jack," said his father, "and it is upon that point +I was inclined to take issue with you when your mother entered." + +"I think I shall leave you," said the mother. "I am rather tired, and so +I shall bid you good-night." + +"Yes," said the father, when they had seated themselves again, "the +very fact that to you, and to me for that matter, Rob's attitude of +mind should seem peculiar raises the issue. What is the normal type of +Christian faith? Is it not marked by the simplicity and completeness of +the child's?" + +"And yet, Sir," replied Jack, "that simplicity and completeness is the +result of inexperience. Surely the ideal faith is not that which ignores +the facts and experiences of life?" + +"Not exactly," replied his father, "yet I am not sure but after all, +'the perfect love which casteth out fear' is one which ignores the +experiences of life, or, rather, classifies them in a larger category. +That is, it refuses to be disturbed by life's experiences, because among +those experiences there is a place for the enlarged horizon, the clearer +vision. But I am not arguing about this matter; I rather wish to make +a confession and enlist your aid. Frankly, the boy's words gave me an +uneasy sense of failure in my duty to this young man; or, perhaps I +should say, my privilege. And really, it is no wonder! Here is this +little chap actually carrying every day a load of intense concern for +our friend, as to whether, as he puts it himself, 'he has come back.' +And, after all, Jack, I wonder if this should not have been more upon +our minds? The young man, I take it, since his mother's death has little +in his home life to inspire him with religious faith and feeling. If she +had been alive, one would not feel the same responsibility; she was a +singularly saintly woman." + +"You are quite right, Sir," said Jack quickly, "and I suspect you rather +mean that I am the one that should feel condemned." + +"Not at all! Not at all, Jack! I am thinking, as every man must, of my +own responsibility, though, doubtless, you have yours as well. Of course +I know quite well you have stuck by him splendidly in his fight for a +clean and self-controlled life, but one wonders whether there is not +something more." + +"There is, Sir!" replied his son quickly. "There undoubtedly is! But +though I have no hesitation in speaking to men down in the Settlement +about these things, you know, still, somehow, to a man of your own +class, and to a personal friend, one hesitates. One shrinks from what +seems like assuming an attitude of superiority." + +"I appreciate that," said his father, "but yet one wonders to what +extent this shrinking is due to a real sense of one's own imperfections, +and to what extent it is due to an unwillingness to risk criticism, even +from ourselves, in a loyal attempt to serve the Master and His cause. +And, besides that, one wonders whether from any cause one should +hesitate to do the truly kind and Christian thing to one's friend. I +mean, you value your religion; or, to put it personally, as Rob would, +you would esteem as your chief possession your knowledge of the Christ, +as Friend and Saviour. Do not loyalty to Him and friendship require that +you share that possession with your dearest friend?" + +"I know what you mean, Sir," said Jack earnestly. "I shall think it +over. But don't you think a word from you, Sir--" + +His father looked at his son with a curious smile. + +"Oh, I know what you are thinking," said his son, "but I assure you it +is not quite a case of funk." + +"Do you know, Jack," said his father earnestly, "we make our religion +far too unreal; a thing either of forms remote from life, or a thing of +individualistic emotion divorced from responsibility. One thing +history reveals, that the early propagandum for the faith was entirely +unprofessional. It was from friend to friend, from man to man. It was +horizontal rather than perpendicular." + +"Well, I shall think it over," said Jack. + +"Do you know," said his father, "that I have the feeling of having +accepted from Rob responsibility for our utmost endeavour to bring it +about that, as Rob puts it, 'somehow he shall get back'?" + +It was full twenty minutes before train time when Rob, torn with anxiety +lest they should be late, marched his brother on to the railway platform +to wait for the Camerons, who were to arrive from the North. Up and +down they paraded, Dunn turning over in his mind the conversation of the +night before, Rob breaking away every three minutes to consult the clock +and the booking clerk at the wicket. + +"Will he come to us this afternoon, Jack, do you think?" enquired the +boy. + +"Don't know! He turned down a football lunch! He has his sister and his +father with him." + +"His sister could come with him!" argued the boy. + +"What about his father?" + +Rob had been close enough to events to know that the Captain constituted +something of a difficulty in the situation. + +"Well, won't he have business to attend to?" + +His brother laughed. "Good idea, Rob, let us hope so! At any rate we +will do our best to get Cameron and his sister to come to us. We want +them, don't we?" + +"We do that!" said the boy fervently; "only I'm sure something will +happen! There," he exclaimed a moment later, in a tone of disappointment +and disgust, "I just knew it! There is Miss Brodie and some one else; +they will get after him, I know!" + +"So it is," said Dunn, with a not altogether successful attempt at +surprise. + +"Aw! you knew!" said Rob reproachfully. + +"Well! I kind of thought she might turn up!" said his brother, with +an air of a convicted criminal. "You know she is quite a friend of +Cameron's. But what is Sir Archibald here for?" + +"They will just get him, I know," said Rob gloomily, as he followed his +brother to meet Miss Brodie and her uncle. + +"We're here!" cried that young lady, "to join in the demonstration to +the hero! And, my uncle being somewhat conscience-stricken over his +tardy and unwilling acceptance of our superior judgment in the recent +famous case, has come to make such reparation as he can." + +"What a piece of impertinence! Don't listen to her, Sir!" cried +Sir Archibald, greeting Dunn warmly and with the respect due an +International captain. "The truth is I have a letter here for him to a +business friend in Montreal, which may be of service. Of course, I may +say to you that I am more than delighted that this letter of Potts has +quite cleared the young man, and that he goes to the new country with +reputation unstained. I am greatly delighted! greatly delighted! and I +wish the opportunity to say so." + +"Indeed, we are all delighted," replied Dunn cordially, "though, of +course, I never could bring myself to believe him guilty of crime." + +"Well, on the strength of the judgment of yourself and, I must confess, +of this young person here, I made my decision." + +"Well," cried Miss Brodie, "I gave you my opinion because it was my +opinion, but I confess at times I had my own doubts--" + +Here she paused abruptly, arrested by the look on young Rob's face; it +was a look of surprise, grief, and horror. + +"That is to say," continued Miss Brodie hastily, answering the look, and +recognising that her high place in Rob's regard was in peril, "the whole +thing was a mystery--was impossible to solve--I mean," she continued, +stumbling along, "his own attitude was so very uncertain and so +unsatisfactory--if he had only been able to say clearly 'I am not +guilty' it would have been different--I mean--of course, I don't believe +him guilty. Don't look at me like that, Rob! I won't have it! But was it +not clever of that dear Mr. Rae to extract that letter from the wretched +Potts?" + +"There's the train!" cried Dunn. "Here, Rob, you stay here with me! +Where has the young rascal gone!" + +"Look! Oh, look!" cried Miss Brodie, clutching at Dunn's arm, her eyes +wide with terror. There before their horrified eyes was young Rob, +hanging on to the window, out of which his friend Cameron was leaning, +and racing madly with the swiftly moving train, in momentary danger of +being dragged under its wheels. With a cry, Dunn rushed forward. + +"Merciful heavens!" cried Miss Brodie. "Oh! he is gone!" + +A porter, standing with his back towards the racing boy, had knocked +his feet from under him. But as he fell, a strong hand grabbed him, and +dragged him to safety through the window. + +Pale and shaking, the three friends waited for the car door to be +opened, and as Rob issued in triumphant possession of his friend, Miss +Brodie rushed at him and, seizing him in her strong grasp, cried: + +"You heartless young rascal! You nearly killed me--not to speak of +yourself! Here," she continued, throwing her arms about him, and giving +him a loud smack, "take that for your punishment! Do you hear, you +nearly killed me! I had a vision of your mangled form ground up between +the wheels and the platform. Hold on, you can't get away from me! I have +a mind to give you another!" + +"Oh, Miss Brodie, please," pleaded Cameron, coming forward to Rob's +rescue, "I assure you I was partly to blame; it is only fair I should +share his punishment." + +"Indeed," cried Miss Brodie, the blood coming back into her cheeks that +had been white enough a moment before, "if it were not for your size, +and your--looks, I should treat you exactly the same, though not +with the same intent, as our friend Mr. Rae would say. You did that +splendidly!" + +"Alas! for my size," groaned Cameron--he was in great spirits--"and +alas! for my ugly phiz!" + +"Who said 'ugly'?" replied Miss Brodie. "But I won't rise to your bait. +May I introduce you to my uncle, Sir Archibald Brodie, who has a little +business with you?" + +"Ah! Mr. Cameron," said that gentleman, "that was extremely well +done. Indeed, I can hardly get back my nerve--might have been an ugly +accident. By the way, Sir," taking Cameron aside, "just a moment. You +are on your way to Canada? I have a letter which I thought might be +of service to you. It is to a business friend of mine, a banker, in +Montreal, Mr. James Ritchie. You will find him a good man to know, and I +fancy glad to serve any--ah--friend of mine." + +On hearing Sir Archibald's name, Cameron's manner became distinctly +haughty, and he was on the point of declining the letter, when Sir +Archibald, who was quick to observe his manner, took him by the arm and +led him somewhat further away. + +"Now, Sir, there is a little matter I wish to speak of, if you will +permit. Indeed, I came specially to say how delighted I am that +the--ah--recent little unpleasantness has been removed. Of course you +understand my responsibility to the Bank rendered a certain course +of action imperative, however repugnant. But, believe me, I am truly +delighted to find that my decision to withdraw the--ah--action has been +entirely justified by events. Delighted, Sir! Delighted! And much more +since I have seen you." + +Before the overflowing kindliness of Sir Archibald's voice and manner, +Cameron's hauteur vanished like morning mist before the rising sun. + +"I thank you, Sir Archibald," he said, with dignity, "not only for this +letter, but especially for your good opinion." + +"Very good! Very good! The letter will, I hope, be useful," replied Sir +Archibald, "and as for my opinion, I am glad to find not only that it is +well founded, but that it appears to be shared by most of this company +here. Now we must get back to your party. But let me say again, I am +truly glad to have come to know you." + + + + +BOOK TWO + + + +CHAPTER I + +HO FOR THE OPEN! + + +Mr. James Ritchie, manager of the Bank of Montreal, glanced from the +letter in his hand to the young man who had just given it to him. "Ah! +you have just arrived from the old land," he said, a smile of genial +welcome illuminating his handsome face. "I am pleased to hear from my +old friend, Sir Archibald Brodie, and pleased to welcome any friend of +his to Canada." + +So saying, with fine old-time courtesy, the banker rose to his splendid +height of six feet two, and shook his visitor warmly by the hand. + +"Your name is--?" + +"Cameron, Sir," said the young man. + +"Yes, I see! Mr. Allan Cameron--um, um," with his eyes on the letter. +"Old and distinguished family--exactly so! Now, then, Mr. Cameron, I +hope we shall be able to do something for you, both for the sake of my +old friend, Sir Archibald, and, indeed, for your own sake," said the +banker, with a glance of approval at Cameron's upright form. + +"Sit down, Sir! Sit down! Now, business first is my motto. What can I do +for you?" + +"Well, first of all," said Cameron with a laugh, "I wish to make a +deposit. I have a draft of one hundred pounds here which I should like +to place in your care." + +"Very well, Sir," said the banker, touching a button, "my young man will +attend to that." + +"Now, then," when the business had been transacted, "what are your +plans, Mr. Cameron? Thirty-five years ago I came to Montreal a young +man, from Scotland, like yourself, and it was a lonely day for me when +I reached this city, the loneliest in my life, and so my heart warms +to the stranger from the old land. Yes," continued Mr. Ritchie, in a +reminiscent tone, "I remember well! I hired as errand boy and general +factotum to a small grocer down near the market. Montreal was a small +city then, with wretched streets--they're bad enough yet--and poor +buildings; everything was slow and backward; there have been mighty +changes since. But here we are! Now, what are your plans?" + +"I am afraid they are of the vaguest kind," said Cameron. "I want +something to do." + +"What sort of thing? I mean, what has been the line of your training?" + +"I am afraid my training has been defective. I have passed through +Edinburgh Academy, also the University, with the exception of my last +year. But I am willing to take anything." + +"Ah!" said the banker thoughtfully. "No office training, eh?" + +"No, Sir. That is, if you except a brief period of three or four months +in the law office of our family solicitor." + +"Law, eh?--I have it! Denman's your man! I shall give you a letter to +Mr. Denman--a lawyer friend of mine. I shall see him personally to-day, +and if you call to-morrow at ten I hope to have news for you. Meantime, +I shall be pleased to have you lunch with me to-day at the club. One +o'clock is the hour. If you would kindly call at the bank, we shall go +down together." + +Cameron expressed his gratitude. + +"By the way!" said Mr. Ritchie, "where have you put up?" + +"At the Royal," said Cameron. + +"Ah! That will do for the present," said Mr. Ritchie. "I am sorry our +circumstances do not permit of my inviting you to our home. The truth +is, Mrs. Ritchie is at present out of the city. But we shall find some +suitable lodging for you. The Royal is far too expensive a place for a +young man with his fortune to make." + +Cameron spent the day making the acquaintance of the beautiful, quaint, +if somewhat squalid, old city of Montreal; and next morning, with +a letter of introduction from Mr. Ritchie, presented himself at Mr. +Denman's office. Mr. Denman was a man in young middle life, athletic +of frame, keen of eye, and energetic of manner; his voice was loud +and sharp. He welcomed Cameron with brisk heartiness, and immediately +proceeded to business. + +"Let me see," he began, "what is your idea? What kind of a job are you +after?" + +"Indeed," replied Cameron, "that is just what I hardly know." + +"Well, what has been your experience? You are a University man, I +believe? But have you had any practical training? Do you know office +work?" + +"No, I've had little training for an office. I was in a law office for +part of a year." + +"Ah! Familiar with bookkeeping, or accounting? I suppose you can't run +one of these typewriting machines?" + +In regard to each of these lines of effort Cameron was forced to confess +ignorance. + +"I say!" cried Mr. Denman, "those old country people seriously annoy me +with their inadequate system of education!" + +"I am afraid," replied Cameron, "the fault is more mine than the +system's." + +"Don't know about that! Don't know about that!" replied Mr. Denman +quickly; "I have had scores of young men, fine young men, too, come to +me; public school men, university men, but quite unfit for any practical +line of work." + +Mr. Denman considered for some moments. "Let us see. You have done some +work in a law office. Now," Mr. Denman spoke with some hesitation; "I +have a place in my own office here--not much in it for the present, +but--" + +"To tell the truth," interrupted Cameron, "I did not make much of the +law; in fact, I do not think I am suited for office work. I would prefer +something in the open. I had thought of the land." + +"Farming," exclaimed Mr. Denman. "Ah!--you would, I suppose, be able to +invest something?" + +"No," said Cameron, "nothing." + +Denman shook his head. "Nothing in it! You would not earn enough to buy +a farm about here in fifteen years." + +"But I understood," replied Cameron, "that further west was cheaper +land." + +"Oh! In the far west, yes! But it is a God-forsaken country! I don't +know much about it, I confess. I know they are booming town lots all +over the land. I believe they have gone quite mad in the business, but +from what I hear, the main work in the west just now is jaw work; the +only thing they raise is corner lots." + +On Cameron's face there fell the gloom of discouragement. One of his +fondest dreams was being dispelled--his vision of himself as a wealthy +rancher, ranging over square miles of his estate upon a "bucking +broncho," garbed in the picturesque cowboy dress, began to fade. + +"But there is ranching, I believe?" he ventured. + +"Ranching? Oh yes! There is, up near the Rockies, but that is out of +civilization; out of reach of everything and everybody." + +"That is what I want, Sir!" exclaimed Cameron, his face once more aglow +with eager hope. "I want to get away into the open." + +Mr. Denman did not, or could not, recognise this as the instinctive cry +of the primitive man for a closer fellowship with Mother Nature. He was +keenly practical, and impatient with everything that appeared to him to +be purely visionary and unbusiness-like. + +"But, my dear fellow," he said, "a ranch means cattle and horses; and +cattle and horses means money, unless of course, you mean to be simply a +cowboy--cowpuncher, I believe, is the correct term--but there is nothing +in that; no future, I mean. It is all very well for a little fun, if +you have a bank account to stand it, although some fellows stand it on +someone's else bank account--not much to their credit, however. There is +a young friend of mine out there at present, but from what I can gather +his home correspondence is mainly confined to appeals for remittances +from his governor, and his chief occupation spending these remittances +as speedily as possible. All very well, as I have said, for fun, if +you can pay the shot. But to play the role of gentleman cowboy, while +somebody else pays for it, is the sort of thing I despise." + +"And so do I, Sir!" said Cameron. "There will be no remittance in my +case." + +Denman glanced at the firm, closed lips and the stiffening figure. + +"That is the talk!" he exclaimed. "No, there is no chance in ranching +unless you have capital." + +"As far as I can see," replied Cameron gloomily, "everything seems +closed up except to the capitalist, and yet from what I heard at home +situations were open on every hand in this country." + +"Come here!" cried Denman, drawing Cameron to the office window. "See +those doors!" pointing to a long line of shops. "Every last one is +opened to a man who knows his business. See those smokestacks! Every +last wheel in those factories is howling for a man who is on to his job. +But don't look blue, there is a place for you, too; the thing is to find +it." + +"What are those long buildings?" inquired Cameron, pointing towards the +water front. + +"Those are railroad sheds; or, rather, Transportation Company's sheds; +they are practically the same thing. I say! What is the matter with +trying the Transportation Company? I know the manager well. The very +thing! Try the Transportation Company!" + +"How should I go about it?" said Cameron. "I mean to say just what +position should I apply for?" + +"Position!" shouted Denman. "Why, general manager would be good!" + +Then, noting the flush in Cameron's face, he added quickly, "Pardon me! +The thing is to get your foot in somehow, and then wire in till you are +general manager, by Jove! It can be done! Fleming has done it! Went in +as messenger boy, but--" Denman paused. There flashed through his mind +the story of Fleming's career; a vision of the half-starved ragged waif +who started as messenger boy in the company's offices, and who, by dint +of invincible determination and resolute self-denial, fought his way +step by step to his present position of control. In contrast, he looked +at the young man, born and bred in circles where work is regarded as +a calamity, and service wears the badge of social disfranchisement. +Fleming had done it under compulsion of the inexorable mistress +"Necessity." But what of this young man? + +"Will we try?" he said at length. "I shall give you a letter to Mr. +Fleming." + +He sat down to his desk and wrote vigourously. + +"Take this, and see what happens." + +Cameron took the letter, and, glancing at the address, read, Wm. +Fleming, Esquire, General Manager, Metropolitan Transportation & Cartage +Company. + +"Is this a railroad?" asked Cameron. + +"No, but next thing to it. The companies are practically one. The +transition from one to the other is easy enough. Let me know how you get +on. Good-by! And--I say!" cried Mr. Denman, calling Cameron back again +from the door, "see Mr. Fleming himself. Remember that! And remember," +he added, with a smile, "the position of manager is not vacant just yet, +but it will be. I give you my word for it when you are ready to take it. +Good-by! Buck up! Take what he offers you! Get your teeth in, and never +let go!" + +"By George!" said Denman to himself as the door closed on Cameron, +"these chaps are the limit. He's got lots of stuff in him, but he has +been rendered helpless by their fool system--God save us from it! That +chap has had things done for him ever since he was first bathed; +they have washed 'em, dressed 'em, fed 'em, schooled 'em, found 'em +positions, stuck 'em in, and watched that they didn't fall out. And +yet, by George!" he added, after a pause, "they are running the +world to-day--that is, some of them." Facing which somewhat puzzling +phenomenon, Denman plunged into his work again. + +Meantime Cameron was making his way towards the offices of the +Metropolitan Transportation & Cartage Company, oppressed with an +unacknowledged but none the less real sense of unfitness, and haunted +by a depressing sense of the deficiency of his own training, and of +the training afforded the young men of his class at home. As he started +along he battled with his depression. True enough, he had no skill +in the various accomplishments that Mr. Denman seemed to consider +essential; he had no experience in business, he was not fit for office +work--office work he loathed; but surely there was some position where +his talents would bring him recognition and fortune at last. After all, +Mr. Denman was only a Colonial, and with a Colonial's somewhat narrow +view of life. Who was he to criticise the system of training that for +generations had been in vogue at home? Had not Wellington said "that +England's battles were first won on the football fields of Eton and +Rugby," or something like that? Of course, the training that might fit +for a distinguished career in the British army might not necessarily +insure success on the battle fields of industry and commerce. Yet +surely, an International player should be able to get somewhere! + +At this point in his cogitations Cameron was arrested by a memory +that stabbed him like a knife-thrust; the awful moment when upon the +Inverleith grounds, in the face of the Welsh forward-line, he had +faltered and lost the International. Should he ever be able to forget +the agony of that moment and of the day that followed? And yet, he need +not have failed. He knew he could play his position with any man in +Scotland; he had failed because he was not fit. He set his teeth hard. +He would show these bally Colonials! He would make good! And with his +head high, he walked into the somewhat dingy offices of the Metropolitan +Transportation & Cartage Company, of which William Fleming, Esquire, was +manager. + +Opening the door, Cameron found himself confronted by a short counter +that blocked the way for the general public into the long room, filled +with desks and chairs and clicking typewriting machines. Cameron had +never seen so many of these machines during the whole period of his +life. The typewriter began to assume an altogether new importance in +his mind. Hitherto it had appeared to him more or less of a Yankee fad, +unworthy of the attention of an able-bodied man of average intelligence. +In Edinburgh a "writing machine" was still something of a new-fangled +luxury, to be apologised for. Mr. Rae would allow no such finicky +instrument in his office. Here, however, there were a dozen, more or +less, manipulated for the most part by young ladies, and some of them +actually by men; on every side they clicked and banged. It may have +been the clicking and banging of these machines that gave to Cameron the +sense of rush and hurry so different from the calm quiet and dignified +repose of the only office he had ever known. For some moments he stood +at the counter, waiting attention from one of the many clerks sitting +before him, but though one and another occasionally glanced in his +direction, his presence seemed to awaken not even a passing curiosity in +their minds, much less to suggest the propriety of their inquiring his +business. + +As the moments passed Cameron became conscious of a feeling of affront. +How differently a gentleman was treated by the clerks in the office +of Messrs. Rae & Macpherson, where prompt attention and deferential +courtesy in a clerk were as essential as a suit of clothes. Gradually +Cameron's head went up, and with it his choler. At length, in his +haughtiest tone, he hailed a passing youth: + +"I say, boy, is this Mr. Fleming's office?" + +The clicking and banging of the typewriters, and the hum of voices +ceased. Everywhere heads were raised and eyes turned curiously upon the +haughty stranger. + +"Eh?" No letters can represent the nasal intonation of this syllabic +inquiry, and no words the supreme indifference of the boy's tone. + +"Is Mr. Fleming in? I wish to see him!" Cameron's voice was loud and +imperious. + +"Say, boys," said a lanky youth, with a long, cadaverous countenance +and sallow, unhealthy complexion, illumined, however, and redeemed to +a certain extent by black eyes of extraordinary brilliance, "it is the +Prince of Wales!" The drawling, awe-struck tones, in the silence that +had fallen, were audible to all in the immediate neighbourhood. + +The titter that swept over the listeners brought the hot blood to +Cameron's face. A deliberate insult a Highlander takes with calm. He is +prepared to deal with it in a manner affording him entire satisfaction. +Ridicule rouses him to fury, for, while it touches his pride, it leaves +him no opportunity of vengeance. + +"Can you tell me if Mr. Fleming is in?" he enquired again of the boy +that stood scanning him with calm indifference. The rage that possessed +him so vibrated in his tone that the lanky lad drawled again in a +warning voice: + +"Slide, Jimmy, slide!" + +Jimmy "slid," but towards the counter. + +"Want to see him?" he enquired in a tone of brisk impertinence, as if +suddenly roused from a reverie. + +"I have a letter for him." + +"All right! Hand it over," said Jimmy, fully conscious that he was the +hero of more than usual interest. + +Cameron hesitated, then passed his letter over to Jimmy, who, reading +the address with deliberate care, winked at the lanky boy, and with a +jaunty step made towards a door at the farther end of the room. As he +passed a desk that stood nearest the door, a man who during the last few +minutes had remained with his head down, apparently so immersed in +the papers before him as to be quite unconscious of his surroundings, +suddenly called out, "Here, boy!" + +Jimmy instantly assumed an air of respectful attention. + +"A letter for Mr. Fleming," he said. + +"Here!" replied the man, stretching out his hand. + +He hurriedly glanced through the letter. + +"Tell him there is no vacancy at present," he said shortly. + +The boy came back to Cameron with cheerful politeness. The "old man's" +eye was upon him. + +"There is no vacancy at present," he said briefly, and turned away as if +his attention were immediately demanded elsewhere by pressing business +of the Metropolitan Transportation & Cartage Company. + +For answer, Cameron threw back the leaf of the counter that barred his +way, and started up the long room, past the staring clerks, to the desk +next the door. + +"I wish to see Mr. Fleming, Sir," he said, his voice trembling slightly, +his face pale, his blue-gray eyes ablaze. + +The man at the desk looked up from his work. + +"I have just informed you there is no vacancy at present," he said +testily, and turned to his papers again, as if dismissing the incident. + +"Will you kindly tell me if Mr. Fleming is in?" said Cameron in a voice +that had grown quite steady; "I wish to see him personally." + +"Mr. Fleming cannot see you, I tell you!" almost shouted the man, rising +from his desk and revealing himself a short, pudgy figure, with flabby +face and shining bald head. "Can't you understand English?--I can't be +bothered--!" + +"What is it, Bates? Someone to see me?" + +Cameron turned quickly towards the speaker, who had come from the inner +room. + +"I have brought you a letter, Sir, from Mr. Denman," he said quietly; +"it is there," pointing to Bates' desk. + +"A letter? Let me have it! Why was not this brought to me at once, Mr. +Bates?" + +"It was an open letter, Sir," replied Bates, "and I thought there was +no need of troubling you, Sir. I told the young man we had no vacancy at +present." + +"This is a personal letter, Mr. Bates, and should have been brought to +me at once. Why was Mr.--ah--Mr. Cameron not brought in to me?" + +Mr. Bates murmured something about not wishing to disturb the manager on +trivial business. + +"I am the judge of that, Mr. Bates. In future, when any man asks to see +me, I desire him to be shown in at once." + +Mr. Bates began to apologise. + +"That is all that is necessary, Mr. Bates," said the manager, in a voice +at once quiet and decisive. + +"Come in, Mr. Cameron. I am very sorry this has happened!" + +Cameron followed him into his office, noting, as he passed, the red +patches of rage on Mr. Bates' pudgy face, and catching a look of fierce +hate from his small piggy eyes. It flashed through his mind that in Mr. +Bates, at any rate, he had found no friend. + +The result of the interview with Mr. Fleming was an intimation to Mr. +Bates that Mr. Cameron was to have a position in the office of the +Metropolitan Transportation & Cartage Company, and to begin work the +following morning. + +"Very well, Sir," replied Mr. Bates--he had apparently quite recovered +his equanimity--"we shall find Mr. Cameron a desk." + +"We begin work at eight o'clock exactly," he added, turning to Cameron +with a pleasant smile. + +Mr. Fleming accompanied Cameron to the door. + +"Now, a word with you, Mr. Cameron. You may find Mr. Bates a little +difficult--he is something of a driver--but, remember, he is in charge +of this office; I never interfere with his orders." + +"I understand, Sir," said Cameron, resolving that, at all costs, he +should obey Mr. Bates' orders, if only to show the general manager he +could recognise and appreciate a gentleman when he saw one. + +Mr. Fleming was putting it mildly when he described Mr. Bates as +"something of a driver." The whole office staff, from Jimmy, the office +boy, to Jacobs, the gentle, white-haired clerk, whose desk was in the +farthest corner of the room, felt the drive. He was not only office +manager, but office master as well. His rule was absolute, and from his +decisions there was no appeal. The general manager went on the theory +that it was waste of energy to keep a dog and bark himself. In the +policy that governed the office there were two rules which Mr. Bates +enforced with the utmost rigidity--the first, namely, that every member +of the staff must be in his or her place and ready for work when the +clock struck eight; the other, that each member of the staff must work +independently of every other member. A man must know his business, and +go through with it; if he required instructions, he must apply to the +office manager. But, as a rule, one experience of such application +sufficed for the whole period of a clerk's service in the office of the +Metropolitan Transportation & Cartage Company, for Mr. Bates was gifted +with such an exquisiteness of ironical speech that the whole staff were +wont to pause in the rush of their work to listen and to admire when +a new member was unhappy enough to require instructions, their silent +admiration acting as a spur to Mr. Bates' ingenuity in the invention of +ironical discourse. + +Of the peculiarities and idiosyncrasies of Mr. Bates' system, however, +Cameron was quite ignorant; nor had his experience in the office of +Messrs. Rae & Macpherson been such as to impress upon him the necessity +of a close observation of the flight of time. It did not disturb him, +therefore, to notice as he strolled into the offices of the Metropolitan +Transportation & Cartage Company the next morning that the hands of the +clock showed six minutes past the hour fixed for the beginning of +the day's work. The office staff shivered in an ecstasy of expectant +delight. Cameron walked nonchalantly to Mr. Bates' desk, his overcoat on +his arm, his cap in his hand. + +"Good morning, Sir," he said. + +Mr. Bates finished writing a sentence, looked up, and nodded a brief +good morning. + +"We deposit our street attire on the hooks behind the door, yonder!" he +said with emphatic politeness, pointing across the room. + +Cameron flushed, as in passing his desk he observed the pleased smile on +the lanky boy's sallow face. + +"You evidently were not aware of the hours of this office," continued +Mr. Bates when Cameron had returned. "We open at eight o'clock." + +"Oh!" said Cameron, carelessly. "Eight? Yes, I thought it was eight! Ah! +I see! I believe I am five minutes late! But I suppose I shall catch up +before the day is over!" + +"Mr. Cameron," replied Mr. Bates earnestly, "if you should work for +twenty years for the Metropolitan Transportation & Cartage Company, +never will you catch up those five minutes; every minute of your office +hours is pledged to the company, and every minute has its own proper +work. Your desk is the one next Mr. Jacobs, yonder. Your work is waiting +you there. It is quite simple, the entry of freight receipts upon +the ledger. If you wish further instructions, apply to me here--you +understand?" + +"I think so!" replied Cameron. "I shall do my best to--" + +"Very well! That is all!" replied Mr. Bates, plunging his head again +into his papers. + +The office staff sank back to work with every expression of +disappointment. A moment later, however, their hopes revived. + +"Oh! Mr. Cameron!" called out Mr. Bates. Mr. Cameron returned to his +desk. "If you should chance to be late again, never mind going to your +desk; just come here for your cheque." + +Mr. Bates' tone was kindly, even considerate, as if he were anxious to +save his clerk unnecessary inconvenience. + +"I beg your pardon!" stammered Cameron, astonished. + +"That is all!" replied Mr. Bates, his nose once more in his papers. + +Cameron stood hesitating. His eye fell upon the boy, Jimmy, whose face +expressed keenest joy. + +"Do you mean, Sir, that if I am late you dismiss me forthwith?" + +"What?" Mr. Bates' tone was so fiercely explosive that it appeared to +throw up his head with a violent motion. + +Cameron repeated his question. + +"Mr. Cameron, my time is valuable; so is yours. I thought that I spoke +quite distinctly. Apparently I did not. Let me repeat: In case you +should inadvertently be late again, you need not take the trouble to go +to your desk; just come here. Your cheque will be immediately made out. +Saves time, you know--your time and mine--and time, you perceive, in +this office represents money." + +Mr. Bates' voice lost none of its kindly interest, but it had grown +somewhat in intensity; the last sentence was uttered with his face close +to his desk. + +Cameron stood a moment in uncertainty, gazing at the bald head before +him; then, finding nothing to reply, he turned about to behold Jimmy +and his lanky friend executing an animated war pantomime which they +apparently deemed appropriate to the occasion. + +With face ablaze and teeth set Cameron went to his desk, to the extreme +disappointment of Jimmy and the lanky youth, who fell into each other's +arms, apparently overcome with grief. + +For half an hour the office hummed with the noise of subdued voices and +clicked with the rapid fire of the typewriters. Suddenly through the hum +Mr. Bates' voice was heard, clear, calm, and coldly penetrating: + +"Mr. Jacobs!" + +The old, white-haired clerk started up from Cameron's desk, and began +in a confused and gentle voice to explain that he was merely giving some +hints to the new clerk. + +"Mr. Jacobs," said Mr. Bates, "I cannot hear you, and you are wasting my +time!" + +"He was merely showing me how to make these entries!" said Cameron. + +"Ah! Indeed! Thank you, Mr. Cameron! Though I believe Mr. Jacobs has not +yet lost the power of lucid speech. Mr. Jacobs, I believe you know the +rules of this office; your fine will be one-quarter of a day." + +"Thank you!" said Mr. Jacobs, hurriedly resuming his desk. + +"And, Mr. Cameron, if you will kindly bring your work to me, I shall do +my best to enlighten you in regard to the complex duty of entering your +freight receipts." + +An audible snicker ran through the delighted staff. Cameron seized his +ledger and the pile of freight bills, and started for Mr. Bates' desk, +catching out of the corner of his eye the pantomime of Jimmy and the +lanky one, which was being rendered with vigor and due caution. + +For a few moments Cameron stood at the manager's desk till that +gentleman should be disengaged, but Mr. Bates was skilled in the +fine art of reducing to abject humility an employee who might give +indications of insubordination. Cameron's rage grew with every passing +moment. + +"Here is the ledger, Sir!" he said at length. + +But Mr. Bates was so completely absorbed in the business of saving time +that he made not the slightest pause in his writing, while the redoubled +vigor and caution of the pantomime seemed to indicate the approach of a +crisis. At length Mr. Bates raised his head. Jimmy and the lanky clerk +became at once engrossed in their duties. + +"You have had no experience of this kind of work, Mr. Cameron?" inquired +Mr. Bates kindly. + +"No, Sir. But if you will just explain one or two matters, I think I +can--" + +"Exactly! This is not, however, a business college! But we shall do our +best!" + +A rapturous smile pervaded the office. Mr. Bates was in excellent form. + +"By the way, Mr. Cameron--pardon my neglect--but may I inquire just what +department of this work you are familiar with?" + +"Oh, general--" + +"Ah! The position of general manager, however, is filled at present!" +replied Mr. Bates kindly. + +Cameron's flush grew deeper, while Jimmy and his friend resigned +themselves to an ecstasy of delight. + +"I was going to say," said Cameron in a tone loud and deliberate, "that +I had been employed with the general copying work in a writer's office." + +"Writing? Fancy! Writing, eh? No use here!" said Mr. Bates shortly, for +time was passing. + +"A writer with us means a lawyer!" replied Cameron. + +"Why the deuce don't they say so?" answered Mr. Bates impatiently. +"Well! Well!" getting hold of himself again. "Here we allow our +solicitors to look after our legal work. Typewrite?" he inquired +suddenly. + +"I beg your pardon!" replied Cameron. "Typewrite? Do you mean, can I use +a typewriting machine?" + +"Yes! Yes! For heaven's sake, yes!" + +"No, I cannot!" + +"Bookkeep?" + +"No." + +"Good Lord! What have I got?" inquired Mr. Bates of himself, in a tone, +however, perfectly audible to those in the immediate neighbourhood. + +"Try him licking stamps!" suggested the lanky youth in a voice that, +while it reached the ears of Jimmy and others near by, including +Cameron, was inaudible to the manager. Mr. Bates caught the sound, +however, and glared about him through his spectacles. Time was being +wasted--the supreme offense in that office--and Mr. Bates was fast +losing his self-command. + +"Here!" he cried suddenly, seizing a sheaf of letters. "File these +letters. You will be able to do that, I guess! File's in the vault over +there!" + +Cameron took the letters and stood looking helplessly from them to Mr. +Bates' bald head, that gentleman's face being already in close proximity +to the papers on his desk. + +"Just how do I go about this?--I mean, what system do you--" + +"Jim!" roared Mr. Bates, throwing down his pen, "show this con--show +Mr. Cameron how to file these letters! Just like these blank old-country +chumps!" added Mr. Bates, in a lower voice, but loud enough to be +distinctly heard. + +Jim came up with a smile of patronising pity on his face. It was the +smile that touched to life the mass of combustible material that had +been accumulating for the last hour in Cameron's soul. Instead of +following the boy, he turned with a swift movement back to the manager's +desk, laid his sheaf of letters down on Mr. Bates' papers, and, leaning +over the desk, towards that gentleman, said: + +"Did you mean that remark to apply to me?" His voice was very quiet. +But Mr. Bates started back with a quick movement from the white face and +burning eyes. + +"Here, you get out of this!" he cried. + +"Because," continued Cameron, "if you did, I must ask you to apologise +at once." + +All smiles vanished from the office staff, even Jimmy's face assumed a +serious aspect. Mr. Bates pushed back his chair. + +"A-po-pologise!" he sputtered. "Get out of this office, d'ye hear?" + +"Be quick!" said Cameron, his hands gripping Mr. Bates' desk till it +shook. + +"Jimmy! Call a policeman!" cried Mr. Bates, rising from his chair. + +He was too slow. Cameron reached swiftly for his collar, and with one +fierce wrench swept Mr. Bates clear over the top of his desk, shook him +till his head wobbled dangerously, and flung him crashing across the +desk and upon the prostrate form of the lanky youth sitting behind it. + +"Call a policeman! Call a policeman!" shouted Mr. Bates, who was +struggling meantime with the lanky youth to regain an upright position. + +Cameron, meanwhile, walked quietly to where his coat and cap hung. + +"Hold him, somebody! Hold him!" shouted Mr. Bates, hurrying towards him. + +Cameron turned fiercely upon him. + +"Did you want me, Sir?" he inquired. + +Mr. Bates arrested himself with such violence that his feet slid from +under him, and once more he came sitting upon the floor. + +"Get up!" said Cameron, "and listen to me!" + +Mr. Bates rose, and stood, white and trembling. + +"I may not know much about your Canadian ways of business, but I believe +I can teach you some old-country manners. You have treated me this +morning like the despicable bully that you are. Perhaps you will treat +the next old-country man with the decency that is coming to him, even if +he has the misfortune to be your clerk." + +With these words Cameron turned upon his heel and walked deliberately +towards the door. Immediately Jimmy sprang before him, and, throwing the +door wide open, bowed him out as if he were indeed the Prince of +Wales. Thus abruptly ended Cameron's connection with the Metropolitan +Transportation & Cartage Company. Before the day was done the whole city +had heard the tale, which lost nothing in the telling. + +Next morning Mr. Denman was surprised to have Cameron walk in upon him. + +"Hullo, young man!" shouted the lawyer, "this is a pretty business! +Upon my soul! Your manner of entry into our commercial life is somewhat +forceful! What the deuce do you mean by all this?" + +Cameron stood, much abashed. His passion was all gone; in the calm light +of after-thought his action of yesterday seemed boyish. + +"I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Denman," he replied, "and I came to apologise to +you." + +"To me?" cried Denman. "Why to me? I expect, if you wish to get a +job anywhere in this town, you will need to apologise to the chap you +knocked down--what's his name?" + +"Mr. Bates, I think his name is, Sir; but, of course, I cannot apologise +to him." + +"By Jove!" roared Mr. Denman, "he ought to have thrown you out of his +office! That is what I would have done!" + +Cameron glanced up and down Mr. Denman's well-knit figure. + +"I don't think so, Sir," he said, with a smile. + +"Why not?" said Mr. Denman, grasping the arms of his office chair. + +"Because you would not have insulted a stranger in your office who was +trying his best to understand his work. And then, I should not have +tried it on you." + +"And why?" + +"Well, I think I know a gentleman when I see one." + +Mr. Denman was not to be appeased. + +"Well, let me tell you, young man, it would have been a mighty unhealthy +thing for you to have cut up any such shine in this office. I have done +some Rugby in my day, my boy, if you know what that means." + +"I have done a little, too," said Cameron, with slightly heightened +colour. + +"You have, eh! Where?" + +"The Scottish International, Sir." + +"By Jove! You don't tell me!" replied Mr. Denman, his tone expressing a +new admiration and respect. "When? This year?" + +"No, last year, Sir--against Wales!" + +"By Jove!" cried Mr. Denman again; "give me your hand, boy! Any man who +has made the Scottish Internationals is not called to stand any cheek +from a cad like Bates." + +Mr. Denman shook Cameron warmly by the hand. + +"Tell us about it!" he cried. "It must have been rare sport. If Bates +only knew it, he ought to count it an honour to have been knocked down +by a Scottish International." + +"I didn't knock him down, Sir!" said Cameron, apologetically; "he is +only a little chap; I just gave him a bit of a shake," and Cameron +proceeded to recount the proceedings of the previous morning. + +Mr. Denman was hugely delighted. + +"Serves the little beast bloody well right!" he cried enthusiastically. +"But what's to do now? They will be afraid to let you into their offices +in this city." + +"I think, Sir, I am done with offices; I mean to try the land." + +"Farm, eh?" mused Mr. Denman. "Well, so be it! It will probably be safer +for you there--possibly for some others as well." + + + +CHAPTER II + +A MAN'S JOB + + +Cameron slept heavily and long into the day, but as he awoke he was +conscious of a delightful exhilaration possessing him. For the first +time in his life he was a free man, ungoverned and unguided. For four +dreary weeks he had waited in Montreal for answers to his enquiries +concerning positions with farmers, but apparently the Canadian farmers +were not attracted by the qualifications and experience Cameron had +to offer. At length he had accepted the advice of Martin's uncle +in Montreal, who assured him with local pride that, if he desired a +position on a farm, the district of which the little city of London was +the centre was the very garden of Canada. He was glad now to remember +that he had declined a letter of introduction. He was now entirely on +his own. Neither in this city nor in the country round about was there +a soul with whom he had the remotest acquaintance. The ways of life led +out from his feet, all untried, all unknown. Which he should choose +he knew not, but with a thrill of exultation he thanked his stars the +choosing was his own concern. A feeling of adventure was upon him, a new +courage was rising in his heart. The failure that had hitherto dogged +his past essays in life did not dampen his confidence, for they had +been made under other auspices than his own. He had not fitted into his +former positions, but they had not been of his own choosing. He would +now find a place for himself and if he failed again he was prepared to +accept the responsibility. One bit of philosophy he carried with him +from Mr. Denman's farewell interview--"Now, young man, rememer," that +gentleman had said after he had bidden him farewell, "this world is +pretty much made already; success consists in adjustment. Don't try to +make your world, adjust yourself to it. Don't fight the world, serve it +till you master it." Cameron determined he would study adjustments; his +fighting tendency, which had brought him little success in the past, he +would control. + +At this point the throb of a band broke in upon his meditations and +summoned him from his bed. He sprang to the window. It was circus day +and the morning parade, in all its mingled and cosmopolitan glory, was +slowly evolving its animated length to the strains of bands of music. +There were bands on horses and bands on chariots, and at the tail of the +procession a fearful and wonderful instrument bearing the euphonious and +classic name of the "calliope," whose chief function seemed to be that +of terrifying the farmers' horses into frantic and determined attempts +to escape from these horrid alarms of the city to the peaceful haunts of +their rural solitudes. + +Cameron was still boy enough to hurry through his morning duties in +order that he might mix with the crowd and share the perennial delights +which a circus affords. The stable yard attached to his hotel was lined +three deep with buggies, carriages, and lumber waggons, which had borne +in the crowds of farmers from the country. The hotel was thronged with +sturdy red-faced farm lads, looking hot and uncomfortable in their +unaccustomed Sunday suits, gorgeous in their rainbow ties, and rakish +with their hats set at all angles upon their elaborately brushed heads. +Older men, too, bearded and staid, moved with silent and self-respecting +dignity through the crowds, gazing with quiet and observant eyes upon +the shifting phantasmagoria that filled the circus grounds and the +streets nearby. With these, too, there mingled a few of both old and +young who, with bacchanalian enthusiasm, were swaggering their way +through the crowds, each followed by a company of friends good-naturedly +tolerant or solicitously careful. + +Cameron's eyes, roving over the multitude, fell upon a little group that +held his attention, the principal figure of which was a tall middle aged +man with a good-natured face, adorned with a rugged grey chin whisker, +who was loudly declaiming to a younger companion with a hard face and +very wide awake, "My name's Tom Haley; ye can't come over me." + +"Ye bet yer life they can't. Ye ain't no chicken!" exclaimed his +hard-faced friend. "Say, let's liquor up once more before we go to see +the elephant." + +With these two followed a boy of some thirteen years, freckled faced and +solemn, slim and wiry of body, who was anxiously striving to drag his +father away from one of the drinking booths that dotted the circus +grounds, and towards the big tent; but the father had been already a +too frequent visitor at the booth to be quite amenable to his son's +pleading. He, in a glorious mood of self-appreciation, kept announcing +to the public generally and to his hard-faced friend in particular-- + +"My name's Tom Haley; ye can't come over me!" + +"Come on, father," pleaded Tim. + +"No hurry, Timmy, me boy," said his father. "The elephants won't run +away with the monkeys and the clowns can't git out of the ring." + +"Oh, come on, dad, I'm sure the show's begun." + +"Cheese it, young feller," said the young man, "yer dad's able to take +care of himself." + +"Aw, you shut yer mouth!" replied Tim fiercely. "I know what you're +suckin' round for." + +"Good boy, Tim," laughed his father; "ye giv' 'im one that time. Guess +we'll go. So long, Sam, if that's yer name. Ye see I've jist got ter +take in this 'ere show this morning with Tim 'ere, and then we have got +some groceries to git for the old woman. See there," he drew a paper +from his pocket, "wouldn't dare show up without 'em, ye bet, eh, Tim! +Why, it's her egg and butter money and she wants value fer it, she does. +Well, so long, Sam, see ye later," and with the triumphant Tim he made +for the big tent, leaving a wrathful and disappointed man behind him. + +Cameron spent the rest of the day partly in "taking in" the circus +and partly in conversing with the farmers who seemed to have taken +possession of the town; but in answer to his most diligent and careful +enquiries he could hear of no position on a farm for which he could +honestly offer himself. The farmers wanted mowers, or cradlers, or good +smart turnip hands, and Cameron sorrowfully had to confess he was none +of these. There apparently was no single bit of work in the farmer's +life that Cameron felt himself qualified to perform. + +It was wearing towards evening when Cameron once more came across Tim. +He was standing outside the bar room door, big tears silently coursing +down his pale and freckled cheeks. + +"Hello!" cried Cameron, "what's up old chap? Where's your dad, and has +he got his groceries yet?" + +"No," said Tim, hastily wiping away his tears and looking up somewhat +shyly and sullenly into Cameron's face. What he saw there apparently won +his confidence. + +"He's in yonder," he continued, "and I can't git him out. They won't let +him come. They're jist making 'im full so he can't do anything, and we +ought to be startin' fer home right away, too!" + +"Well, let's go in anyway and see what they are doing," said Cameron +cheerfully, to whom the pale tear-stained face made strong appeal. + +"They won't let us," said Tim. "There's a feller there that chucks me +out." + +"Won't, eh? We'll see about that! Come along!" + +Cameron entered the bar room, with Tim following, and looked about him. +The room was crowded to the door with noisy excited men, many of whom +were partially intoxicated. At the bar, two deep, stood a line of men +with glasses in their hands, or waiting to be served. In the farthest +corner of the room stood Tim's father, considerably the worse of his +day's experiences, and lovingly embracing the hard-faced young man, to +whom he was at intervals announcing, "My name's Tom Haley! Ye can't git +over me!" + +As Cameron began to push through the crowd, a man with a very red face, +obviously on the watch for Tim, cried out-- + +"Say, sonny, git out of here! This is no place fer you!" + +Tim drew back, but Cameron, turning to him, said, + +"Come along, Tim. He's with me," he added, addressing the man. "He wants +his father." + +"His father's not here. He left half an hour ago. I told him so." + +"You were evidently mistaken, for I see him just across the room there," +said Cameron quietly. + +"Oh! is he a friend of yours?" enquired the red-faced man. + +"No, I don't know him at all, but Tim does, and Tim wants him," said +Cameron, beginning to push his way through the crowd towards the +vociferating Haley, who appeared to be on the point of backing up some +of his statements with money, for he was flourishing a handful of bills +in the face of the young man Sam, who apparently was quite willing to +accommodate him with the wager. + +Before Cameron could make his way through the swaying, roaring crowd, +the red-faced man slipped from his side, and in a very few moments +appeared at a side door near Tom Haley's corner. Almost immediately +there was a shuffle and Haley and his friends disappeared through the +side door. + +"Hello!" cried Cameron, "there's something doing! We'll just slip around +there, my boy." So saying, he drew Tim back from the crowd and out +of the front door, and, hurrying around the house, came upon Sam, the +red-faced man, and Haley in a lane leading past the stable yard. The +red-faced man was affectionately urging a bottle upon Haley. + +"There they are!" said Tim in an undertone, clutching Cameron's arm. +"You get him away and I'll hitch up." + +"All right, Tim," said Cameron, "I'll get him. They are evidently up to +no good." + +"What's yer name?" said Tim hurriedly. + +"Cameron!" + +"Come on, then!" he cried, dragging Cameron at a run towards his father. +"Here, Dad!" he cried, "this is my friend, Mr. Cameron! Come on home. +I'm going to hitch up. We'll be awful late for the chores and we got +them groceries to git. Come on, Dad!" + +"Aw, gwan! yer a cheeky kid anyway," said Sam, giving Tim a shove that +nearly sent him on his head. + +"Hold on there, my man, you leave the boy alone," said Cameron. + +"What's your business in this, young feller?" + +"Never mind!" said Cameron. "Tim is a friend of mine and no one is going +to hurt him. Run along, Tim, and get your horses." + +"Friend o' Tim's, eh!" said Haley, in half drunken good nature. "Friend +o' Tim's, friend o' mine," he added, gravely shaking Cameron by the +hand. "Have a drink, young man. You look a' right!" + +Cameron took the bottle, put it to his lips. The liquor burned like +fire. + +"Great Caesar!" he gasped, contriving to let the bottle drop upon a +stone. "What do you call that?" + +"Pretty hot stuff!" cried Haley, with a shout of laughter. + +But Sam, unable to see the humour of the situation, exclaimed in a rage, +"Here, you cursed fool! That is my bottle!" + +"Sorry to be so clumsy," said Cameron apologetically, "but it surely +wasn't anything to drink, was it?" + +"Yes, it jest was something to drink, was it?" mocked Sam, approaching +Cameron with menace in his eye and attitude. "I have a blanked good +notion to punch your head, too!" + +"Oh! I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Cameron, smiling +pleasantly. + +"Say, Sam, don't get mad, Sam," interposed Haley. "This young feller's +a friend o' Tim's. I'll git another bottle a' right. I've got the stuff +right here." He pulled out his roll of bills. "And lots more where this +comes from." + +"Let me have that, Mr. Haley, I'll get the bottle for you," said +Cameron, reaching out for the bills. + +"A' right," said Haley. "Friend o' Tim's, friend o' mine." + +"Here, young feller, you're too fresh!" cried the red-faced man, +"buttin' in here! You make tracks, git out! Come, git out, I tell yeh!" + +"Give it to him quick," said Sam in a low voice. + +The red-faced man, without the slightest warning, swiftly stepped +towards Cameron and, before the latter could defend himself, struck him +a heavy blow. Cameron staggered, fell, and struggled again to his knees. +The red-faced man sprang forward to kick him in the face, when Haley +interposed-- + +"Hold up there, now! Friend o' Tim's, friend o' mine, ye know!" + +"Hurry up," said Sam, closing in on Haley. "Quit fooling. Give 'im the +billy and let's get away!" + +But Haley, though unskilled with his hands, was a man of more than +ordinary strength, and he swung his long arms about with such vigour +that neither Sam, who was savagely striking at his head, nor the +red-faced man, who was dancing about waiting for a chance to get in with +the "billy," which he held in his hand, was able to bring the affair to +a finish. It could be a matter of only a few moments, however, for both +Sam and his friend were evidently skilled in the arts of the thug, while +Haley, though powerful enough, was chiefly occupying himself in beating +the air. A blow from the billy dropped one of Haley's arms helpless. The +red-faced man, following up his advantage, ran in to finish, but Haley +gripped him by the wrist and, exerting all his strength, gave a mighty +heave and threw him heavily against Sam, who was running in upon the +other side. At the same time Cameron, who was rapidly recovering, +clutched Sam by a leg and brought him heavily to earth. Reaching down, +Haley gripped Cameron by the collar and hauled him to his feet just as +Sam, who had sprung up, ran to the attack. Steadied by Haley, Cameron +braced himself, and, at exactly the right moment, stiffened his left +arm with the whole weight of his body behind it. The result was a most +unhappy one for Sam, who, expecting no such reception, was lifted +clear off his feet and hurled to the ground some distance away. The +exhilaration of his achievement brought Cameron's blood back again to +his brain. Swiftly he turned upon the red-faced man just as that worthy +had brought Haley to his knees with a cruel blow and was preparing +to finish off his victim. With a shout Cameron sprang at him, the man +turned quickly, warded off Cameron's blow, and then, seeing Sam lying +helpless upon the ground, turned and fled down the lane. + +"Say, young feller!" panted Haley, staggering to his feet, "yeh came in +mighty slick that time. Yeh ain't got a bottle on ye, hev yeh?" + +"No!" said Cameron, "but there's a pump near by." + +"Jest as good and a little better," said Haley, staggering towards the +pump. "Say," he continued, with a humourous twinkle in his eye, and +glancing at the man lying on the ground, "Sam's kinder quiet, ain't he? +Run agin something hard like, I guess." + +Cameron filled a bucket with water and into its icy depths Haley plunged +his head. + +"Ow! that's good," he sputtered, plunging his head in again and again. +"Fill 'er up once more!" he said, wiping off his face with a big red +handkerchief. "Now, I shouldn't wonder if it would help Sam a bit." + +He picked up the bucket of water and approached Sam, who meantime had +got to a sitting position and was blinking stupidly around. + +"Here, ye blamed hog, hev a wash, ye need it bad!" So saying, Haley +flung the whole bucket of water over Sam's head and shoulders. "Fill +'er up again," he said, but Sam had had enough, and, swearing wildly, +gasping and sputtering, he made off down the lane. + +"I've heard o' them circus toughs," said Haley in a meditative tone, +"but never jest seen 'em before. Say, young feller, yeh came in mighty +handy fer me a' right, and seeing as yer Tim's friend put it there." He +gripped Cameron's hand and shook it heartily. "Here's Tim with the team, +and, say, there's no need to mention anything about them fellers. Tim's +real tender hearted. Well, I'm glad to hev met yeh. Good-bye! Living +here?" + +"No!" + +"Travellin', eh?" + +"Not exactly," replied Cameron. "The truth is I'm looking for a +position." + +"A position? School teachin', mebbe?" + +"No, a position on a farm." + +"On a farm? Ha! ha! good! Position on a farm," repeated Haley. + +"Yes," replied Cameron. "Do you know of any?" + +"Position on a farm!" said Haley again, as if trying to grasp the +meaning of this extraordinary quest. "There ain't any." + +"No positions?" enquired Cameron. + +"Nary one! Say, young man, where do you come from?" + +"Scotland," replied Cameron. + +"Scotland! yeh don't say, now. Jest out, eh?" + +"Yes, about a month or so." + +"Well, well! Yeh don't say so!" + +"Yes," replied Cameron, "and I am surprised to hear that there is no +work." + +"Oh! hold on there now!" interposed Haley gravely. "If it's work you +want there are stacks of it lying round, but there ain't no positions. +Positions!" ejaculated Haley, who seemed to be fascinated by the word, +"there ain't none on my farm except one and I hold that myself; but +there's lots o' work, and--why! I want a man right now. What say? Come +along, stay's long's yeh like. I like yeh fine." + +"All right," said Cameron. "Wait till I get my bag, but I ought to tell +you I have had no experience." + +"No experience, eh!" Haley pondered. "Well, we'll give it to you, and +anyway you saved me some experience to-day and you come home with me." + +When he returned he found Haley sitting on the bottom of the wagon +rapidly sinking into slumber. The effects of the bucket were passing +off. + +"What about the groceries, Tim?" enquired Cameron. + +"We've got to git 'em," said Tim, "or we'll catch it sure." + +Leaving Cameron to wonder what it might be that they were sure to catch, +Tim extracted from his father's pocket the paper on which were listed +the groceries to be purchased, and the roll of bills, and handed both to +Cameron. + +"You best git 'em," he said, and, mounting to the high spring seat, +turned the team out of the yard. The groceries secured with Cameron's +help, they set off for home as the long June evening was darkening into +night. + +"My! it's awful late," said Tim in a voice full of foreboding. "And +Perkins ain't no good at chores." + +"How far is it to your home?" enquired Cameron. + +"Nine miles out this road and three off to the east." + +"And who's Perkins?" + +"Perkins! Joe Perkins! He's our hired man. He's a terror to work at +plowin', cradlin', and bindin', but he ain't no good at chores. I bet +yeh he'll leave Mandy to do the milkin', ten cows, and some's awful +bad." + +"And who's Mandy?" enquired Cameron. + +"Mandy! She's my sister. She's an awful quick milker. She can beat Dad, +or Perkins, or any of 'em, but ten cows is a lot, and then there's the +pigs and the calves to feed, and the wood, too. I bet Perkins won't cut +a stick. He's good enough in the field," continued Tim, with an obvious +desire to do Perkins full justice, "but he ain't no good around the +house. He says he ain't hired to do women's chores, and Ma she won't ask +'im. She says if he don't do what he sees to be done she'd see 'im far +enough before she'd ask 'im." And so Timothy went on with a monologue +replete with information, his high thin voice rising clear above the +roar and rattle of the lumber wagon as it rumbled and jolted over the +rutty gravel road. Those who knew the boy would have been amazed at his +loquacity, but something in Cameron had won his confidence and opened +his heart. Hence his monologue, in which the qualities, good and bad, of +the members of the family, of their own hired man and of other hired +men were fully discussed. The standard of excellence for work in the +neighbourhood, however, appeared to be Perkins, whose abilities Tim +appeared greatly to admire, but for whose person he appeared to have +little regard. + +"He's mighty good at turnip hoeing, too," he said. "I could pretty near +keep up to him last year and I believe I could do it this year. Some +day soon I'm going to git after 'im. My! I'd like to trim 'im to a fine +point." + +The live stock on the farm in general, and the young colts in +particular, among which a certain two-year-old was showing signs of +marvellous speed, these and cognate subjects relating to the farm, its +dwellers and its activities, Tim passed in review, with his own shrewd +comments thereon. + +"And what do you play, Tim?" asked Cameron, seeking a point of contact +with the boy. + +"Nothin'," said Tim shortly. "No time." + +"Don't you go to school?" + +"Yes, in fall and winter. Then we play ball and shinny some, but there +ain't much time." + +"But you can't work all the time, Tim? What work can you do?" + +"Oh!" replied Tim carelessly, "I run a team." + +"Run a team? What do you mean?" + +Tim glanced up at him and, perceiving that he was quite serious, +proceeded to explain that during the spring's work he had taken his +place in the plowing and harrowing with the "other" men, that he +expected to drive the mower and reaper in haying and harvest, that, in +short, in almost all kinds of farm work he was ready to take the place +of a grown man; and all this without any sign of boasting. + +Cameron thought over his own life, in which sport had filled up so large +a place and work so little, and in which he had developed so little +power of initiative and such meagre self-dependence, and he envied the +solemn-faced boy at his side, handling his team and wagon with the skill +of a grown man. + +"I say, Tim!" he exclaimed in admiration, "you're great. I wish I could +do half as much." + +"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Tim in modest self-disdain, "that ain't nothin', +but I wish I could git off a bit." + +"Get off? What do you mean?" + +The boy was silent for some moments, then asked shyly: + +"Say! Is there big cities in Scotland, an' crowds of people, an' trains, +an' engines, an' factories, an' things? My! I wish I could git away!" + +Then Cameron understood dimly something of the wander-lust in the boy's +soul, of the hunger for adventure, for the colour and movement of life +in the great world "away" from the farm, that thrilled in the boy's +voice. So for the next half hour he told Tim tales of his own life, the +chief glory of which had been his achievements in the realm of sport, +and, before he was aware, he was describing to the boy the great +International with Wales, till, remembering the disastrous finish, he +brought his narrative to an abrupt close. + +"And did yeh lick 'em?" demanded Tim in a voice of intense excitement. + +"No," said Cameron shortly. + +"Oh, hedges! I wisht ye had!" exclaimed Tim in deep disappointment. + +"It was my fault," replied Cameron bitterly, for the eager wish in the +boy's heart had stirred a similar yearning in his own and had opened an +old sore. + +"I was a fool," he said, more to himself than to Tim. "I let myself get +out of condition and so I lost them the match." + +"Aw, git out!" said Tim, with unbelieving scorn. "I bet yeh didn't! My! +I wisht I could see them games." + +"Oh, pshaw! Tim, they are not half so worth while as plowing, harrowing, +and running your team. Why, here you are, a boy of--how old?" + +"Thirteen," said Tim. + +"A boy of thirteen able to do a man's work, and here am I, a man of +twenty-one, only able to do a boy's work, and not even that. But I'm +going to learn, Tim," added Cameron. "You hear me, I am going to learn +to do a man's work. If I can," he added doubtfully. + +"Oh, shucks!" replied Tim, "you bet yeh can, and I'll show yeh," with +which mutual determination they turned in at the gate of the Haley farm, +which was to be the scene of Cameron's first attempt to do a man's work +and to fill a man's place in the world. + + + +CHAPTER III + +A DAY'S WORK + + +The Haley farm was a survival of an ambitious past. Once the property of +a rich English gentleman, it had been laid out with an eye to appearance +rather than to profit and, though the soil was good enough, it had +never been worked to profit. Consequently, when its owner had tired +of Colonial life, he had at first rented the farm, but, finding this +unsatisfactory, he, in a moment of disgust, advertised it for sale. +Pretentious in its plan and in its appointments, its neglected and run +down condition gave it an air of decayed gentility, depressing alike +to the eye of the beholder and to the selling price of the owner. Haley +bought it and bought it cheap. From the high road a magnificent avenue +of maples led to a house of fine proportions, though sadly needing +repair. The wide verandahs, the ample steps were unpainted and falling +into ruin; the lawn reaching from the front door to the orchard was +spacious, but overgrown with burdocks, nettles and other noxious weeds; +the orchard, which stretched from the lawn to the road on both sides +of the lane, had been allowed to run sadly to wood. At the side of the +house the door-yard was littered with abandoned farm implements, piles +of old fence rails and lumber and other impedimenta, which, though +kindly Nature, abhorring the unsightly rubbish, was doing her utmost to +hide it all beneath a luxuriant growth of docks, milkweed, and nettles, +lent an air of disorder and neglect to the whole surroundings. The +porch, or "stoop," about the summer kitchen was set out with an +assortment of tubs and pails, pots and pans, partially filled with +various evil looking and more evil smelling messes, which afforded an +excellent breeding and feeding place for flies, mosquitoes, and other +unpleasant insects. Adjoining the door yard, and separated from it by a +fence, was the barn yard, a spacious quadrangle flanked on three sides +by barns, stables, and sheds, which were large and finely planned, but +which now shared the general appearance of decrepitude. The fence, which +separated one yard from the other, was broken down, so that the barn +yard dwellers, calves, pigs, and poultry, wandered at will in search of +amusement or fodder to the very door of the kitchen, and so materially +contributed to the general disorder, discomfort, and dirt. + +Away from the house, however, where Nature had her own way, the farm +stretched field after field on each side of the snake fenced lane to the +line of woods in the distance, a picture of rich and varied beauty. From +the rising ground on which the house was situated a lovely vista swept +right from the kitchen door away to the remnant of the forest primeval +at the horizon. On every field the signs of coming harvest were +luxuriantly visible, the hay fields, grey-green with blooming "Timothy" +and purple with the deep nestling clover, the fall wheat green and +yellowing into gold, the spring wheat a lighter green and bursting into +head, the oats with their graceful tasselated stalks, the turnip field +ribboned with its lines of delicate green on the dark soil drills, back +of all, the "slashing" where stumps, blackened with fire, and trunks +of trees piled here and there in confusion, all overgrown with weeds, +represented the transition stage between forest and harvest field, and +beyond the slashing the dark cool masses of maple, birch, and elm; all +these made a scene of such varied loveliness as to delight the soul +attuned to nature. + +Upon this scene of vivid contrasts, on one side house and barn and yard, +and on the other the rolling fields and massive forest, Cameron stood +looking in the early light of his first morning on the farm, with +mingled feelings of disgust and pleasure. In a few moments, however, the +loveliness of the far view caught and held his eye and he stood as in a +dream. The gentle rolling landscape, with its rich variety of greens and +yellows and greys, that swept away from his feet to the dark masses of +woods, with their suggestions of cool and shady depth, filled his soul +with a deep joy and brought him memory of how the "Glen of the Cup of +Gold" would look that morning in the dear home-land so far away. True, +there were neither mountains nor moors, neither lochs nor birch-clad +cliffs here. Nature, in her quieter mood, looked up at him from these +sloping fields and bosky woods and smiled with kindly face, and that +smile of hers it was that brought to Cameron's mind the sunny Glen of +the Cup of Gold. It was the sweetest, kindliest thing his eye had looked +on since he had left the Glen. + +A harsh and fretful voice broke in upon his dreaming. + +"Pa-a-w, there ain't a stick of wood for breakfast! There was none last +night! If you want any breakfast you'd best git some wood!" + +"All right, Mother!" called Haley from the barn yard, where he was +assisting in the milking. "I'm a comin'." + +Cameron walked to meet him. + +"Can I help?" he enquired. + +"Why, of course!" shouted Haley. "Here, Ma, here's our new hand, the +very man for you." + +Mrs. Haley, who had retired to the kitchen, appeared at the door. She +was a woman past middle age, unduly stout, her face deep lined with +the fret of a multitude of cares, and hung with flabby folds of skin, +browned with the sun and wind, though it must be confessed its color was +determined more by the grease and grime than by the tan upon it. Yet, +in spite of the flabby folds of flesh, in spite of the grime and grease, +there was still a reminiscence of a one-time comeliness, all the more +pathetic by reason of its all too obvious desecration. Her voice was +harsh, her tone fretful, which indeed was hardly to be wondered at, +for the burden of her life was by no means light, and the cares of the +household, within and without, were neither few nor trivial. + +For a moment or two Mrs. Haley stood in silence studying and appraising +the new man. The result did not apparently inspire her with hope. + +"Come on now, Pa," she said, "stop yer foolin' and git me that wood. I +want it right now. You're keepin' me back and there's an awful lot to +do." + +"But I ain't foolin', Ma. Mr. Cameron is our new hand. He'll knock yeh +off a few sticks in no time." So saying, Haley walked off with his pails +to the milking, leaving his wife and the new hand facing each other, +each uncertain as to the next move. + +"What can I do, Mrs. Haley?" enquired Cameron politely. + +"Oh, I don't know," said Mrs. Haley wearily. "I want a few sticks for +the breakfast, but perhaps I can get along with chips, but chips don't +give no steady fire." + +"If you would show me just what to do," said Cameron with some +hesitation, "I mean, where is the wood to be got?" + +"There," she said, in a surprised tone, pointing to a pile of long logs +of ash and maple. "I don't want much." She gathered her apron full of +chips and turned away, all too obviously refusing to place her hope of +wood for the breakfast fire upon the efforts of the new man. Cameron +stood looking alternately at the long, hard, dry logs and at the axe +which he had picked up from the bed of chips. The problem of how to +produce the sticks necessary to breakfast by the application of the one +to the other was one for which he could see no solution. He lifted his +axe and brought it down hard upon a maple log. The result was a slight +indentation upon the log and a sharp jar from the axe handle that ran up +his arm unpleasantly. A series of heavy blows produced nothing more than +a corresponding series of indentations in the tough maple log and of +jars more or less sharp and painful shooting up his arms. The result was +not encouraging, but it flashed upon him that this was his first attempt +to make good at his job on the farm. He threw off his coat and went at +his work with energy; but the probability of breakfast, so far as it +depended upon the result of his efforts, seemed to be growing more and +more remote. + +"Guess ye ain't got the knack of it," said a voice, deep, full, and +mellow, behind him. "That axe ain't no good for choppin', it's a +splittin' axe." + +Turning, he saw a girl of about seventeen, with little grace and less +beauty, but strongly and stoutly built, and with a good-natured, if +somewhat stupid and heavy face. Her hair was dun in colour, coarse +in texture, and done up loosely and carelessly in two heavy braids, +arranged about her head in such a manner as to permit stray wisps of +hair to escape about her face and neck. She was dressed in a loose pink +wrapper, all too plainly of home manufacture, gathered in at the +waist, and successfully obliterating any lines that might indicate +the existence of any grace of form, and sadly spotted and stained with +grease and dirt. Her red stout arms ended in thick and redder hands, +decked with an array of black-rimmed nails. At his first glance, +sweeping her "tout ensemble," Cameron was conscious of a feeling of +repulsion, but in a moment this feeling passed and he was surprised to +find himself looking into two eyes of surprising loveliness, dark blue, +well shaped, and of such liquid depths as to suggest pools of water +under forest trees. + +"They use the saw mostly," said the girl. + +"The saw?" echoed Cameron. + +"Yes," she said. "They saw 'em through and then split 'em with the axe." + +Cameron picked up the buck-saw which lay against a rickety saw horse. +Never in his life had he used such an instrument. He gazed helplessly at +his companion. + +"How do you use this thing?" he enquired. + +"Say! are you funny," replied the girl, flashing a keen glance upon him, +"or don't ye know?" + +"Never saw it done in my life," said Cameron solemnly. + +"Here!" she cried, "let me show you." + +She seized the end of a maple log, dragged it forward to the rickety saw +horse, set it in position, took the saw from his hands, and went at her +work with such vigour that in less than a minute as it seemed to Cameron +she had made the cut. + +"Give me that axe!" she said impatiently to Cameron, who was preparing +to split the block. + +With a few strong and skillful blows she split the straight-grained +block of wood into firewood, gathered up the sticks in her arms, and, +with a giggle, turned toward the house. + +"I won't charge you anything for that lesson," she said, "but you'll +have to hustle if you git that wood split 'fore breakfast." + +"Thank you," said Cameron, grateful that none of the men had witnessed +the instruction, "I shall do my best," and for the next half hour, with +little skill, but by main strength, he cut off a number of blocks from +the maple log and proceeded to split them. But in this he made slow +progress. From the kitchen came cheerful sounds and scents of cooking, +and ever and anon from the door waddled, with quite surprising celerity, +the unwieldy bulk of the mistress of the house. + +"Now, that's jest like yer Pa," Cameron heard her grumbling to her +daughter, "bringin' a man here jest at the busy season who don't know +nothin'. He's peckin' away at 'em blocks like a rooster peckin' grain." + +"He's willin' enough, Ma," replied the girl, "and I guess he'll learn." + +"Learn!" puffed Mrs. Haley contemptuously. "Did ye ever see an +old-country man learn to handle an axe or a scythe after he was growed +up? Jest look at 'im. Thank goodness! there's Tim." + +"Here, Tim!" she called from the door, "best split some o' that wood +'fore breakfast." + +Tim approached Cameron with a look of pity on his face. + +"Let me have a try," he said. Cameron yielded him the axe. The boy set +on end the block at which Cameron had been laboring and, with a swift +glancing blow of the axe, knocked off a slab. + +"By Jove!" exclaimed Cameron admiringly, "how did you do that?" + +For answer the boy struck again the same glancing blow, a slab started +and, at a second light blow, fell to the ground. + +"I say!" exclaimed Cameron again, "I must learn that trick." + +"Oh, that's easy!" said Tim, knocking the slabs off from the outside of +the block. "This heart's goin' to be tough, though; got a knot in it," +and tough it proved, resisting all his blows. + +"You're a tough sucker, now, ain't yeh?" said Tim, through his shut +teeth, addressing the block. "We'll try yeh this way." He laid the end +of the block upon a log and plied the axe with the full strength of +his slight body, but the block danced upon the log and resisted all his +blows. + +"Say! you're a tough one now!" he said, pausing for breath. + +"Let me try that," said Cameron, and, putting forth his strength, he +brought the axe down fairly upon the stick with such force that the +instrument shore clean through the knot and sank into the log below. + +"Huh! that's a cracker," said Tim with ungrudging admiration. "All you +want is knack. I'll slab it off and you can do the knots," he added with +a grin. + +As the result of this somewhat unequal division of labor, there lay in +half an hour a goodly pile of fire wood ready for the cooking. It caught +Haley's eye as he came in to breakfast. + +"I say, Missus, that's a bigger pile than you've had for some time. +Guess my new man ain't so slow after all." + +"Huh!" puffed his wife, waddling about with great agility, "it was Tim +that done it." + +"Now, Ma, ye know well enough he helped Tim, and right smart too," said +the daughter, but her mother was too busy getting breakfast ready for +the hungry men who were now performing their morning ablutions with the +help of a very small basin set upon a block of wood outside the kitchen +door to answer. + +There were two men employed by Haley, one the son of a Scotch-Canadian +farmer, Webster by name, a stout young fellow, but slow in his +movements, both physical and mental, and with no further ambition than +to do a fair day's work for a fair day's pay. He was employed by the +month during the busier seasons of the year. The other, Perkins, was +Haley's "steady" man, which means that he was employed by the year and +was regarded almost as a member of the family. Perkins was an Englishman +with fair hair and blue eyes, of fresh complexion, burned to a clear +red, clean-cut features, and a well knit, athletic frame. He was, as +Tim declared, a terror to work; indeed, his fame as a worker was well +established throughout the country side. To these men Cameron was +introduced as being from Scotland and as being anxious to be initiated +into the mysteries of Canadian farm life. + +"Glad to see you!" said Perkins, shaking him heartily by the hand. +"We'll make a farmer of you, won't we, Tim? From Scotland, eh? Pretty +fine country, I hear--to leave," he added, with a grin at his own +humour. Though his manner was pleasant enough, Cameron became conscious +of a feeling of aversion, which he recognised at once as being as +unreasonable as it was inexplicable. He set it down as a reflection +of Tim's mental attitude toward the hired man. Perkins seized the +tin basin, dipped some water from the rain barrel standing near, and, +setting it down before Cameron, said: + +"Here, pile in, Scotty. Do they wash in your country?" + +"Yes," replied Cameron, "they are rather strong on that," wondering at +the same time how the operation could be performed successfully with +such a moderate supply of water. After using a second and third supply, +however, he turned, with hands and face dripping, and looked about for a +towel. Perkins handed him a long roller towel, black with dirt and +stiff with grease. Had his life depended upon it Cameron could not have +avoided a shuddering hesitation as he took the filthy cloth preparatory +to applying it to his face. + +"'Twon't hurt you," laughed Perkins. "Wash day ain't till next week, you +know, and this is only Wednesday." Suddenly the towel was snatched from +Cameron's hands. + +"Gimme that towel!" It was the girl, with face aflame and eyes emitting +blue fire. "Here; Mr. Cameron, take this," she said. + +"Great Jerusalem, Mandy! You ain't goin' to bring on a clean towel the +middle of the week?" said Perkins in mock dismay. "Guess it's for Mr. +Cameron," he continued with another laugh. + +"We give clean towels to them that knows how to use 'em," said Mandy, +whisking wrathfully into the house. + +"Say, Scotty!" said Perkins, in a loud bantering tone, "guess you're +makin' a mash on Mandy all right." + +"I don't know exactly what you mean," said Cameron with a quick rising +of wrath, "but I do know that you are making a beastly cad of yourself." + +"Oh, don't get wrathy, Scotty!" laughed Perkins, "we're just having a +little fun. Here's the comb!" But Cameron declined the article, +which, from its appearance, seemed to be intended for family use, and, +proceeding to his room, completed his toilet there. + +The breakfast was laid in the kitchen proper, a spacious and comfortable +room, which served as living room for the household. The table was +laden with a variety and abundance of food that worthily sustained the +reputation of the Haleys of being "good feeders." At one end of the +table a large plate was heaped high with slices of fat pork, and here +and there disposed along its length were dishes of fried potatoes, huge +piles of bread, hot biscuits, plates of butter, pies of different kinds, +maple syrup, and apple sauce. It was a breakfast fit for a lord, and +Cameron sat down with a pleasurable anticipation induced by his early +rising and his half hour's experience in the fresh morning air with the +wood pile. A closer inspection, however, of the dishes somewhat damped +the pleasure of his anticipation. The food was good, abundant, and well +cooked, but everywhere there was an utter absence of cleanliness. +The plates were greasy, the forks and knives bore the all too evident +remains of former meals, and everywhere were flies. In hundreds they +swarmed upon the food, while, drowned in the gravy, cooked in the +potatoes, overwhelmed in the maple syrup, buried in the butter, their +ghastly carcasses were to be seen. With apparent unconcern the men +brushed aside the living and picked out and set aside the remains of the +dead, the unhappy victims of their own greed or temerity, and went on +calmly and swiftly with their business. Not a word was spoken except +by Cameron himself, who, constrained by what he considered to be the +ordinary decencies of society, made an effort to keep up a conversation +with Mr. Haley at the head of the table and occasionally ventured a +remark to his wife, who, with Mandy, was acting as a waiter upon the +hungry men. But conversation is a social exercise, and Cameron found +himself compelled to abandon his well meant but solitary efforts at +maintaining the conventions of the breakfast table. There was neither +time nor occasion for conversation. The business of the hour was +something quite other, namely, that of devouring as large a portion +of the food set before them as was possible within the limits of time +assigned for the meal. Indeed, the element of time seemed to be one of +very considerable importance, as Cameron discovered, for he was still +picking his way gingerly and carefully through his pork and potatoes by +the time that Perkins, having completed a second course consisting of +pie and maple syrup, had arrived at the final course of bread and butter +and apple sauce. + +"Circulate the butter!" he demanded of the table in general. He took the +plate from Cameron's hand, looked at it narrowly for a moment, then with +thumb and forefinger drew from the butter with great deliberation a long +dun-coloured hair. + +"Say!" he said in a low voice, but perfectly audible, "they forgot to +comb it this morning." + +Cameron was filled with unspeakable disgust, but, glancing at Mrs. +Haley's face, he saw to his relief that both the action and the remark +had been unnoticed by her. But on Mandy's face he saw the red ensign of +shame and wrath, and in spite of himself he felt his aversion towards +the ever-smiling hired man deepen into rage. + +Finding himself distanced in his progress through the various courses at +breakfast, Cameron determined to miss the intermediate course of pie +and maple syrup and, that he might finish on more even terms with the +others, proceeded with bread and butter and apple sauce. + +"Don't yeh hurry," said Mrs. Haley with hearty hospitality. "Eat plenty, +there's lots to spare. Here, have some apple sauce." She caught up the +bowl which held this most delicious article of food. + +"Where's the spoon?" she said, glancing round the table. There was none +immediately available. "Here!" she cried, "this'll do." She snatched +a large spoon from the pitcher of thick cream, held it dripping for +a moment in obvious uncertainty, then with sudden decision she cried +"Never mind," and with swift but effective application of lip and tongue +she cleansed the spoon of the dripping cream, and, stirring the apple +sauce vigourously, passed the bowl to Cameron. For a single moment +Cameron held the bowl, uncertain whether to refuse or not, but before he +could make up his mind Mandy caught it from his hands. + +"Oh, Ma!" she exclaimed in a horrified tone. + +"What's the matter?" exclaimed her mother. "A little cream won't hurt." + +But Mandy set the bowl at the far end of the table and passed another to +Cameron, who accepted it with resolute determination and continued his +breakfast. + +But Perkins, followed by Webster and Tim, rose from the table and passed +out into the yard, whence his voice could be heard in explosions of +laughter. Cameron in the meantime was making heroic attempts to cover +up the sound by loud-voiced conversation with Haley, and, rendered +desperate by the exigencies of the situation, went so far as to venture +a word of praise to Mrs. Haley upon the excellence and abundance of her +cooking. + +"She ain't got no chance," said her husband. "She's got too much to do +and it's awful hard to get help. Of course, there's Mandy." + +"Of course, there's Mandy," echoed his wife. "I guess you'd just better +say, 'There's Mandy.' She's the whole thing is Mandy. What I'd do +without her goodness only knows." + +But Mandy was no longer present to enjoy her mother's enconiums. Her +voice could be heard in the yard making fierce response to Perkins' +jesting remarks. As Cameron was passing out from the kitchen he heard +her bitter declaration: "I don't care, it was real mean of you, and I'll +pay you for it yet, Mr. Perkins--before a stranger, too." Mandy's voice +suggested tears. + +"Oh, pshaw, Mandy!" remonstrated Perkins, "it was all a joke, and who +cares for him anyway, unless it's yourself?" + +But Mandy, catching sight of Cameron, fled with fiery face behind the +kitchen, leaving Perkins gazing after her with an apologetic grin upon +his countenance. + +"She's rather hot under the collar," he confided to Cameron, "but she +needn't get so, I didn't mean nothin'." + +Cameron ignored him. He was conscious mainly of a resolute determination +that at all costs he must not yield to his almost uncontrollable desire +to wipe off the apologetic smile with a well directed blow. Mr. Denman's +parting advice was in his mind and he was devoting all his powers to +the business of adjusting himself to his present environment. But to +his fastidious nature the experiences of the morning made it somewhat +doubtful if he should be able to carry out the policy of adjustment +to the extreme of schooling himself to bear with equal mind the daily +contact with the dirt and disorder which held so large a place in +the domestic economy of the Haley household. One thing he was firmly +resolved upon, he would henceforth perform his toilet in his own room, +and thereby save himself the horror of the family roller towel and the +family comb. + +Breakfast over, the men stood waiting orders for the day. + +"We'll have to crowd them turnips through, Tim," said his father, who +seemed to avoid as far as possible giving direct orders to his men. +"Next week we'll have to git at the hay." So to the turnip field they +went. + +It is one of the many limitations of a city-bred boy that he knows +nothing of the life history and the culture of the things that grow upon +a farm. Apples and potatoes he recognises when they appear as articles +of diet upon the table; oats and wheat he vaguely associates in some +mysterious and remote way with porridge and bread, but whether potatoes +grow on trees or oats in pods he has no certain knowledge. Blessed is +the country boy for many reasons, but for none more than this, that the +world of living and growing things, animate and inanimate, is one which +he has explored and which he intimately knows; and blessed is the city +boy for whom his wise parents provide means of acquaintance with this +wonder workshop of old mother Nature, God's own open country. + +Turnip-hoeing is an art, a fine art, demanding all the talents of high +genius, a true eye, a sure hand, a sensitive conscience, industry, +courage, endurance, and pride in achievement. These and other gifts +are necessary to high success. Not to every man is it given to become a +turnip-hoer in the truest sense of that word. The art is achieved only +after long and patient devotion, and, indeed, many never attain high +excellence. Of course, therefore, there are grades of artists in this as +in other departments. There are turnip-hoers and turnip-hoers, just as +there are painters and painters. It was Tim's ambition to be the first +turnip-hoer of his district, and toward this end he had striven both +last season and this with a devotion that deserved, if it did not +achieve, success. Quietly he had been patterning himself upon that +master artist, Perkins, who for some years had easily held the +championship for the district. Keenly Tim had been observing Perkins' +excellencies and also his defects; secretly he had been developing a +style of his own, and, all unnoted, he had tested his speed by that of +Perkins by adopting the method of lazily loafing along and then catching +up by a few minutes of whirlwind work. Tim felt in his soul the day of +battle could not be delayed past this season; indeed, it might come any +day. The very thought of it made his slight body quiver and his heart +beat so quickly as almost to choke him. + +To the turnip field hied Haley's men, Perkins and Webster leading the +way, Tim and Cameron bringing up the rear. + +"You promised to show me how to do it, Tim," said Cameron. "Remember I +shall be very slow." + +"Oh, shucks!" replied Tim, "turnip-hoeing is as easy as rollin' off a +log if yeh know how to do it." + +"Exactly!" cried Cameron, "but that is what I don't. You might give me +some pointers." + +"Well, you must be able to hit what yeh aim at." + +"Ah! that means a good eye and steady hand," said Cameron. "Well, I can +do billiards some and golf. What else?" + +"Well, you mustn't be too careful, slash right in and don't give a rip." + +"Ah! nerve, eh!" said Cameron. "Well, I have done some Rugby in my +day--I know something of that. What else? This sounds good." + +"Then you've got to leave only one turnip in one place and not a weed; +and you mustn't leave any blanks. Dad gets hot over that." + +"Indeed, one turnip in each place and not a weed," echoed Cameron. "Say! +this business grows interesting. No blanks! Anything else?" he demanded. + +"No, I guess not, only if yeh ever git into a race ye've got to keep +goin' after you're clear tuckered out and never let on. You see the +other chap may be feelin' worse than you." + +"By Jove, Tim! you're a born general!" exclaimed Cameron. "You will +go some distance if you keep on in that line. Now as to racing let me +venture a word, for I have done a little in my time. Don't spurt too +soon." + +"Eh!" said Tim, all eagerness. + +"Don't get into your racing stride too early in the day, especially if +you are up against a stronger man. Wait till you know you can stay till +the end and then put your best licks in at the finish." + +Tim pondered. + +"By Jimminy! you're right," he cried, a glad light in his eye, and a +touch of colour in his pale cheek, and Cameron knew he was studying war. + +The turnip field, let it be said for the enlightening of the benighted +and unfortunate city-bred folk, is laid out in a series of drills, a +drill being a long ridge of earth some six inches in height, some eight +inches broad on the top and twelve at the base. Upon each drill the seed +has been sown in one continuous line from end to end of the field. When +this seed has grown each drill will discover a line of delicate green, +this line being nothing less than a compact growth of young turnip +plants with weeds more or less thickly interspersed. The operation of +hoeing consists in the eliminating of the weeds and the superfluous +turnip plants in order that single plants, free from weeds, may be left +some eight inches apart in unbroken line, extending the whole length +of the drill. The artistic hoer, however, is not content with this. +His artistic soul demands not only that single plants should stand in +unbroken row from end to end along the drill top, but that the drill +itself should be pared down on each side to the likeness of a house roof +with a perfectly even ridge. + +"Ever hoe turnips?" enquired Perkins. + +"Never," said Cameron, "and I am afraid I won't make much of a fist at +it." + +"Well, you've come to a good place to learn, eh, Tim! We'll show him, +won't we?" + +Tim made no reply, but simply handed Cameron a hoe and picked up his +own. + +"Now, show me, Tim," said Cameron in a low voice, as Perkins and Webster +set off on their drills. + +"This is how you do it," replied Tim. "Click-click," forward and back +went Tim's sharp shining instrument, leaving a single plant standing +shyly alone where had boldly bunched a score or more a moment before. +"Click-click-click," and the flat-topped drill stood free of weeds +and superfluous turnip plants and trimmed to its proper roof-like +appearance. + +"I say!" exclaimed Cameron, "this is high art. I shall never reach your +class, though, Tim." + +"Oh, shucks!" said Tim, "slash in, don't be afraid." Cameron slashed in. +"Click-click," "Click-click-click," when lo! a long blank space of drill +looked up reproachfully at him. + +"Oh, Tim! look at this mess," he said in disgust. + +"Never mind!" said Tim, "let her rip. Better stick one in though. +Blanks look bad at the END of the drill." So saying, he made a hole in +Cameron's drill and with his hoe dug up a bunch of plants from +another drill and patted them firmly into place, and, weeding out the +unnecessary plants, left a single turnip in its proper place. + +"Oh, come, that isn't so bad," said Cameron. "We can always fill up the +blanks." + +"Yes, but it takes time," replied Tim, evidently with the racing fever +in his blood. Patiently Tim schooled his pupil throughout the forenoon, +and before the dinner hour had come Cameron was making what to Tim +appeared satisfactory progress. It was greatly in Cameron's favor that +he possessed a trained and true eye and a steady hand and that he was +quick in all his movements. + +"You're doin' splendid," cried Tim, full of admiration. + +"I say, Scotty!" said Perkins, coming up and casting a critical eye +along Cameron's last drill, "you're going to make a turnip-hoer all +right." + +"I've got a good teacher, you see," cried Cameron. + +"You bet you have," said Perkins. "I taught Tim myself, and in two or +three years he'll be almost as good as I am, eh, Tim!" + +"Huh!" grunted Tim, contemptuously, but let it go at that. + +"Perhaps you think you're that now, eh, Tim?" said Perkins, seizing +the boy by the back of the neck and rubbing his hand over his hair in a +manner perfectly maddening. "Don't you get too perky, young feller, or +I'll hang your shirt on the fence before the day's done." + +Tim wriggled out of his grasp and kept silent. He was not yet ready with +his challenge. All through the afternoon he stayed behind with Cameron, +allowing the other two to help them out at the end of each drill, but as +the day wore on there was less and less need of assistance for Cameron, +for he was making rapid progress with his work and Tim was able to do, +not only his own drill, but almost half of Cameron's as well. By supper +time Cameron was thoroughly done out. Never had a day seemed so long, +never had he known that he possessed so many muscles in his back. The +continuous stooping and the steady click-click of the hoe, together with +the unceasing strain of hand and eye, and all this under the hot burning +rays of a June sun, so exhausted his vitality that when the cow bell +rang for supper it seemed to him a sound more delightful than the +strains of a Richter orchestra in a Beethoven symphony. + +On the way back to the field after supper Cameron observed that Tim was +in a state of suppressed excitement and it dawned upon him that the hour +of his challenge of Perkins' supremacy as a turnip-hoer was at hand. + +"I say, Tim, boy!" he said earnestly, "listen to me. You are going to +get after Perkins this evening, eh?" + +"How did you know?" said Tim, in surprise. + +"Never mind! Now listen to me; I have raced myself some and I have +trained men to race. Are you not too tired with your day's work?" + +"Tired! Not a bit," said the gallant little soul scornfully. + +"Well, all right. It's nice and cool and you can't hurt yourself much. +Now, how many drills do you do after supper as a rule?" + +"Down and up twice," said Tim. + +"How many drills can you do at your top speed, your very top speed, +remember?" + +"About two drills, I guess," replied Tim, after a moment's thought. + +"Now, listen to me!" said Cameron impressively. "Go quietly for two and +a half drills, then let yourself out and go your best. And, listen! I +have been watching you this afternoon. You have easily done once and +a half what Perkins has done and you are going to lick him out of his +boots." + +Tim gulped a moment or two, looked at his friend with glistening eyes, +but said not a word. For the first two and a half drills Cameron exerted +to the highest degree his conversational powers with the two-fold +purpose of holding back Perkins and Webster and also of so occupying +Tim's mind that he might forget for a time the approaching conflict, the +strain of waiting for which he knew would be exhausting for the lad. +But when the middle of the second last drill had been reached, Tim began +unconsciously to quicken his speed. + +"I say, Tim," called Cameron, "come here! Am I getting these spaces too +wide?" Tim came over to his side. "Now, Tim," said Cameron, in a low +voice, "wait a little longer; you can never wear him out. Your only +chance is in speed. Wait till the last drill." + +But Tim was not to be held back. Back he went to his place and with a +rush brought his drill up even with Webster, passed him, and in a few +moments like a whirlwind passed Perkins and took the lead. + +"Hello, Timmy! where are you going?" asked Perkins, in surprise. + +"Home," said Tim proudly, "and I'll tell 'em you're comin'." + +"All right, Timmy, my son!" replied Perkins with a laugh, "tell them you +won't need no hot bath; I'm after you." + +"Click-click," "Click-click-click" was Tim's only answer. It was a +distinct challenge, and, while not openly breaking into racing speed, +Perkins accepted it. + +For some minutes Webster quickened his pace in an attempt to follow the +leaders, but soon gave it up and fell back to help Cameron up with his +drill, remarking, "I ain't no blamed fool. I ain't going to bust myself +for any man. THEY'RE racing, not me." + +"Will Tim win?" enquired Cameron. + +"Naw! Not this year! Why, Perkins is the best man in the whole country +at turnips. He took the Agricultural Society's prize two years ago." + +"I believe Tim will beat him," said Cameron confidently, with his eyes +upon the two in front. + +"Beat nothing!" said Webster. "You just wait a bit, Perkins isn't +letting himself out yet." + +In a short time Tim finished his drill some distance ahead, and then, +though it was quitting time, without a pause he swung into the next. + +"Hello, Timmy!" cried Perkins good-naturedly, "going to work all night, +eh? Well, I'll just take a whirl out of you," and for the first time he +frankly threw himself into his racing gait. + +"Good boy, Tim!" called out Cameron, as Tim bore down upon them, still +in the lead and going like a small steam engine. "You're all right and +going easy. Don't worry!" + +But Perkins, putting on a great spurt, drew up within a hoe-handle +length of Tim and there held his place. + +"All right, Tim, my boy, you can hold him," cried Cameron, as the racers +came down upon him. + +"He can, eh?" replied Perkins. "I'll show him and you," and with an +accession of speed he drew up on a level with Tim. + +"Ah, ha! Timmy, my boy! we've got you where we want you, I guess," he +exulted, and, with a whoop and still increasing his speed, he drew past +the boy. + +But Cameron, who was narrowly observing the combatants and their work, +called out again: + +"Don't worry, Tim, you're doing nice clean work and doing it easily." +The inference was obvious, and Perkins, who had been slashing wildly and +leaving many blanks and weeds behind him where neither blanks nor weeds +should be, steadied down somewhat, and, taking more pains with his work, +began to lose ground, while Tim, whose work was without flaw, moved +again to the front place. There remained half a drill to be done and the +issue was still uncertain. With half the length of a hoe handle between +them the two clicked along at a furious pace. Tim's hat had fallen off. +His face showed white and his breath was coming fast, but there was no +slackening of speed, and the cleanness and ease with which he was doing +his work showed that there was still some reserve in him. They were +approaching the last quarter when, with a yell, Perkins threw himself +again with a wild recklessness into his work, and again he gained upon +Tim and passed him. + +"Steady, Tim!" cried Cameron, who, with Webster, had given up their own +work, it being, as the latter remarked, "quitting time anyway," and +were following up the racers. "Don't spoil your work, Tim!" continued +Cameron, "don't worry." + +His words caught the boy at a critical moment, for Perkins' yell and +his fresh exhibition of speed had shaken the lad's nerve. But Cameron's +voice steadied him, and, quickly responding, Tim settled down again into +his old style, while Perkins was still in the lead, but slashing wildly. + +"Fine work, Tim," said Cameron quietly, "and you can do better yet." For +a few paces he walked behind the boy, steadying him now and then with +a quiet word, then, recognising that the crisis of the struggle was at +hand, and believing that the boy had still some reserve of speed and +strength, he began to call on him. + +"Come on, Tim! Quicker, quicker; come on, boy, you can do better!" His +words, and his tone more than his words, were like a spur to the boy. +From some secret source of supply he called up an unsuspected reserve +of strength and speed and, still keeping up his clean cutting finished +style, foot by foot he drew away from Perkins, who followed in the rear, +slashing more wildly than ever. The race was practically won. Tim was +well in the lead, and apparently gaining speed with every click of his +hoe. + +"Here, you fellers, what are yeh hashin' them turnips for?" It was +Haley's voice, who, unperceived, had come into the field. Tim's reply +was a letting out of his last ounce of strength in a perfect fury of +endeavour. + +"There--ain't--no--hashin'--on this--drill--Dad!" he panted. + +The sudden demand for careful work, however, at once lowered Perkins' +rate of speed. He fell rapidly behind and, after a few moments of +further struggle, threw down his hoe with a whoop and called out, +"Quitting time, I guess," and, striding after Tim, he caught him by the +arms and swung him round clear off the ground. + +"Here, let me go!" gasped the boy, kicking, squirming, and trying to +strike his antagonist with his hoe. + +"Let the boy go!" said Cameron. The tone in his voice arrested Perkins' +attention. + +"What's your business?" he cried, with an oath, dropping the boy and +turning fiercely upon Cameron. + +"Oh, nothing very much, except that Tim's my candidate in this race and +he mustn't be interfered with," replied Cameron in a voice still quiet +and with a pleasant smile. + +Perkins was white and panting; in a moment more he would have hurled +himself at the man who stood smiling quietly in his face. At this +critical moment Haley interposed. + +"What's the row, boys?" he enquired, recognising that something serious +was on. + +"We have been having a little excitement, Sir, in the form of a race," +replied Cameron, "and I've been backing Tim." + +"Looks as if you've got him wound up so's he can't stop," replied Haley, +pointing to the boy, who was still going at racing pace and was just +finishing his drill. "Oh, well, a boy's a boy and you've got to humour +him now and then," continued Haley, making conversation with diplomatic +skill. Then turning to Perkins, as if dismissing a trivial subject, he +added, "Looks to me as if that hay in the lower meadow is pretty nigh +fit to cut. Guess we'd better not wait till next week. You best start +Tim on that with the mower in the mornin'." Then, taking a survey of the +heavens, he added, "Looks as if it might be a spell of good weather." +His diplomacy was successful and the moment of danger was past. Meantime +Cameron had sauntered to the end of the drill where Tim stood leaning +quietly on his hoe. + +"Tim, you are a turnip-hoer!" he said, with warm admiration in his +tone, "and what's more, Tim, you're a sport. I'd like to handle you in +something big. You will make a man yet." + +Tim's whole face flushed a warm red under the coat of freckles. For a +time he stood silently contemplating the turnips, then with difficulty +he found his voice. + +"It was you done it," he said, choking over his words. "I was beat there +and was just quittin' when you came along and spoke. My!" he continued, +with a sharp intake of his breath, "I was awful near quittin'," and +then, looking straight into Cameron's eyes, "It was you done it, +and--I--won't forget." His voice choked again, but, reading his eyes, +Cameron knew that he had gained one of life's greatest treasures, a +boy's adoring gratitude. + +"This has been a great day, Tim," said Cameron. "I have learned to hoe +turnips, and," putting his hand on the boy's shoulder, "I believe I have +made a friend." Again the hot blood surged into Tim's face. He stood +voiceless, but he needed no words. Cameron knew well the passionate +emotion that thrilled his soul and shook the slight body, trembling +under his hand. For Tim, too, it had been a notable day. He had achieved +the greatest ambition of his life in beating the best turnip-hoer on the +line, and he, too, had found what to a boy is a priceless treasure, a +man upon whom he could lavish the hero worship of his soul. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A RAINY DAY + + +It was haying time. Over the fields of yellowing fall wheat and barley, +of grey timothy and purple clover, the heat shimmered in dancing waves. +Everywhere the growing crops were drinking in the light and heat with +eager thirst, for the call of the harvest was ringing through the land. +The air was sweet with scents of the hay fields, and the whole country +side was humming with the sound of the mowers. It was the crowning time +of the year; toward this season all the life of the farm moved steadily +the whole year long; the next two months or three would bring to the +farmer the fruit of long days of toil and waiting. Every minute of these +harvest days, from the early grey dawn, when Mandy called the cows in +for the milking, till the long shadows from the orchard lay quite across +the wide barley field, when Tim, handling his team with careless pride, +drove in the last load for the day, every minute was packed full of life +and action. But though busy were the days and full of hard and at times +back-breaking and nerve-straining work, what of it? The colour, the +rush, the eager race with the flying hours, the sense of triumph, the +promise of wealth, the certainty of comfort, all these helped to carry +off the heaviest toil with a swing and vim that banished aches from the +body and weariness from the soul. + +To Cameron, all unskilled as he was, the days brought many an hour of +strenuous toil, but every day his muscles were knitting more firmly, his +hands were hardening, and his mastery of himself growing more complete. + +In haying there is no large place for skill. This operation, unlike that +of turnip-hoeing, demands chiefly strength, quickness, and endurance, +and especially endurance. To stand all day in the hay field under the +burning sun with its rays leaping back from the super-heated ground, and +roll up the windrows into huge bundles and toss them on to the wagon, +or to run up a long line of cocks and heave them fork-handle high to the +top of a load, calls for something of skill, but mainly for strength +of arm and back. But skill had its place, and once more it was Tim who +stood close to Cameron and showed him all the tricks of pitching hay. It +was Tim who showed him how to stand with his back to the wagon so as to +get the load properly poised with the least expenditure of strength; it +was Tim who taught him the cunning trick of using his thigh as a fulcrum +in getting his load up, rather than doing it by "main strength and +awkwardness"; it was Tim who demonstrated the method of lifting half a +cock by running the end of the fork handle into the ground so that the +whole earth might aid in the hoisting of the load. Of course in all +this Cameron's intelligence and quickness stood him in the place of long +experience, and before the first day's hauling was done he was able to +keep his wagon going. + +But with all the stimulus of the harvest movement and colour, Cameron +found himself growing weary of the life on the Haley farm. It was not +the long days, and to none on the farm were the days longer than to +Cameron, who had taken upon himself the duty of supplying the kitchen +with wood and water, no small business, either at the beginning or at +the end of a long day's work; it was not the heavy toil; it was chiefly +the continuous contact with the dirt and disorder of his environment +that wore his body down and his spirit raw. No matter with how keen a +hunger did he approach the dinner table, the disgusting filth everywhere +apparent would cause his gorge to rise and, followed by the cheerful +gibes of Perkins, he would retire often with his strength unrecruited +and his hunger unappeased, and, though he gradually achieved a certain +skill in picking his way through a meal, selecting such articles of food +as could be less affected than others by the unsavoury surroundings, +the want of appetising and nourishing food told disastrously upon his +strength. His sleep, too, was broken and disturbed by the necessity of +sharing a bed with Webster. He had never been accustomed to "doubling +up," and under the most favourable circumstances the experience would +not have been conducive to sound sleep, but Webster's manner of life was +not such as to render him an altogether desirable bed-fellow. For, while +the majority of farm lads in the neighbourhood made at least semi-weekly +pilgrimages to the "dam" for a swim, Webster felt no necessity laid upon +him for such an expenditure of energy after a hard and sweaty day in the +field. His ideas of hygiene were of the most elementary nature; hence +it was his nightly custom, when released from the toils of the day, +to proceed upstairs to his room and, slipping his braces from his +shoulders, allow his nether garments to drop to the floor and, without +further preparation, roll into bed. Of the effeminacy of a night robe +Webster knew nothing except by somewhat hazy rumour. Once under the +patchwork quilt he was safe for the night, for, heaving himself into the +middle of the bed, he sank into solid and stertorous slumber, from which +all Cameron's prods and kicks failed to arouse him till the grey dawn +once more summoned him to life, whereupon, resuming the aforesaid +nether garments, he was once more simply, but in his opinion quite +sufficiently, equipped for his place among men. Many nights did it +happen that the stertorous melody of Webster's all too odourous slumbers +drove Cameron to find a bed upon the floor. Once again Tim was his +friend, for it was to Tim that Cameron owed the blissful experience of a +night in the hay loft upon the newly harvested hay. There, buried in +its fragrant depths and drawing deep breaths of the clean unbreathed air +that swept in through the great open barn doors, Cameron experienced +a joy hitherto undreamed of in association with the very commonplace +exercise of sleep. After his first night in the hay mow, which he shared +with Tim, he awoke refreshed in body and with a new courage in his +heart. + +"By Jove, Tim! That's the finest thing I ever had in the way of sleep. +Now if we only had a tub." + +"Tub! What for?" + +"A dip, my boy, a splash." + +"To wash in?" enquired Tim, wondering at the exuberance of his friend's +desires. "I'll get a tub," he added, and, running to the house, returned +with wash tub and towel. + +"Tim, my boy, you're a jewel!" exclaimed Cameron. + +From the stable cistern they filled the vessel full and first Cameron +and, after persuasion and with rather dubious delight, Tim tasted the +joy of a morning tub. Henceforth life became distinctly more endurable +to Cameron. + +But, more than all the other irritating elements in his environment +put together, Cameron chafed under the unceasing rasp of Perkins' wit, +clever, if somewhat crude and cumbrous. Perkins had never forgotten nor +forgiven his defeat at the turnip-hoeing, which he attributed chiefly to +Cameron. His gibes at Cameron's awkwardness in the various operations +on the farm, his readiness to seize every opportunity for ridicule, his +skill at creating awkward situations, all these sensibly increased the +wear on Cameron's spirit. All these, however, Cameron felt he could put +up with without endangering his self-control, but when Perkins, with +vulgar innuendo, chaffed the farmer's daughter upon her infatuation +for the "young Scotty," as he invariably designated Cameron, or when +he rallied Cameron upon his supposed triumph in the matter of Mandy's +youthful affections, then Cameron raged and with difficulty kept his +hands from his cheerful and ever smiling tormentor. It did not +help matters much that apparently Mandy took no offense at Perkins' +insinuations; indeed, it gradually dawned upon Cameron that what to him +would seem a vulgar impertinence might to this uncultured girl appear no +more than a harmless pleasantry. At all costs he was resolved that under +no circumstances would he allow his self-control to be broken through. +He would finish out his term with the farmer without any violent +outbreak. It was quite possible that Perkins and others would take him +for a chicken-hearted fool, but all the same he would maintain this +attitude of resolute self-control to the very end. After all, what +mattered the silly gibes of an ignorant boor? And when his term was done +he would abandon the farm life forever. It took but little calculation +to make quite clear that there was not much to hope for in the way +of advancement from farming in this part of Canada. Even Perkins, who +received the very highest wage in that neighbourhood, made no more than +$300 a year; and, with land at sixty to seventy-five dollars per acre, +it seemed to him that he would be an old man before he could become the +owner of a farm. He was heart sick of the pettiness and sordidness of +the farm life, whose horizon seemed to be that of the hundred acres or +so that comprised it. Therefore he resolved that to the great West he +would go, that great wonderful West with its vast spaces and its vast +possibilities of achievement. The rumour of it filled the country side. +Meantime for two months longer he would endure. + +A rainy day brought relief. Oh, the blessed Sabbath of a rainy day, when +the wheels stop and silence falls in the fields; and time tired harvest +hands recline at ease upon the new cut and sweet smelling hay on the +barn floor, and through the wide open doors look out upon the falling +rain that roars upon the shingles, pours down in cataracts from the +eaves and washes clean the air that wanders in, laden with those subtle +scents that old mother earth releases only when the rain falls. Oh, +happy rainy days in harvest time when, undisturbed by conscience, the +weary toilers stretch and slumber and wake to lark and chaff in careless +ease the long hours through! + +In the Haleys' barn they were all gathered, gazing lazily and with +undisturbed content at the steady downpour that indicated an all-day +rest. Even Haley, upon whose crops the rain was teeming down, was +enjoying the rest from the toil, for most of the hay that had been cut +was already in cock or in the barn. Besides, Haley worked as hard as the +best of them and welcomed a day's rest. So let it rain! + +While they lay upon the hay on the barn floor, with tired muscles +all relaxed, drinking in the fragrant airs that stole in from the +rain-washed skies outside, in the slackening of the rain two neighbours +dropped in, big "Mack" Murray and his brother Danny, for a "crack" about +things in general and especially to discuss the Dominion Day picnic +which was coming off at the end of the following week. This picnic +was to be something out of the ordinary, for, in addition to the usual +feasting and frolicking, there was advertised an athletic contest of +a superior order, the prizes in which were sufficiently attractive +to draw, not only local athletes, but even some of the best from the +neighbouring city. A crack runner was expected and perhaps even McGee, +the big policeman of the London City force, a hammer thrower of fame, +might be present. + +"Let him come, eh, Mack?" said Perkins. "I guess we ain't afraid of no +city bug beating you with the hammer." + +"Oh! I'm no thrower," said Mack modestly. "I just take the thing up and +give it a fling. I haven't got the trick of it at all." + +"Have you practised much?" said Cameron, whose heart warmed at the +accent that might have been transplanted that very day from his own +North country. + +"Never at all, except now and then at the blacksmith's shop on a rainy +day," replied Mack. "Have you done anything at it?" + +"Oh, I have seen a good deal of it at the games in the north of +Scotland," replied Cameron. + +"Man! I wish we had a hammer and you could show me the trick of it," +said Mack fervently, "for they will be looking to me to throw and I do +not wish to be beaten just too easily." + +"There's a big mason's hammer," said Tim, "in the tool house, I think." + +"Get it, Tim, then," said Mack eagerly, "and we will have a little +practise at it, for throw I must, and I have no wish to bring discredit +on my country, for it will be a big day. They will be coming from all +over. The Band of the Seventh is coming out and Piper Sutherland from +Zorra will be there." + +"A piper!" echoed Cameron. "Is there much pipe playing in this country?" + +"Indeed, you may say that!" said Mack, "and good pipers they are too, +they tell me. Piper Sutherland, I think, was of the old Forty-twa. Are +you a piper, perhaps?" continued Mack. + +"Oh, I play a little," said Cameron. "I have a set in the house." + +"God bless my soul!" cried Mack, "and we never knew it. Tell Danny where +they are and he will fetch them out. Go, Danny!" + +"Never mind, I will get them myself," said Cameron, trying to conceal +his eagerness, for he had long been itching for a chance to play and his +fingers were now tingling for the chanter. + +It was an occasion of great delight, not only to big Mack and his +brother Danny and the others, but to Cameron himself. Up and down the +floor he marched, making the rafters of the big barn ring with the +ancient martial airs of Scotland and then, dropping into a lighter +strain, he set their feet a-rapping with reels and strathspeys. + +"Man, yon's great playing!" cried Mack with fervent enthusiasm to the +company who had gathered to the summons of the pipes from the house and +from the high road, "and think of him keeping them in his chest all this +time! And what else can you do?" went on Mack, with the enthusiasm of a +discoverer. "You have been in the big games, too, I warrant you." + +Cameron confessed to some experience of these thrilling events. + +"Bless my soul! We will put you against the big folk from the city. Come +and show us the hammer," said Mack, leading the way out of the barn, for +the rain had ceased, with a big mason's hammer in his hand. It needed +but a single throw to make it quite clear to Cameron that Mack was +greatly in need of coaching. As he said himself he "just took up the +thing and gave it a fling." A mighty fling, too, it proved to be. + +"Twenty-eight paces!" cried Cameron, and then, to make sure, stepped +it back again. "Yes," he said, "twenty-eight paces, nearly twenty-nine. +Great Caesar! Mack, if you only had the Braemar swing you would be a +famous thrower." + +"Och, now, you are just joking me!" said Mack modestly. + +"You can add twenty feet easily to your throw if you get the swing," +asserted Cameron. "Look here, now, get this swing," and Cameron +demonstrated in his best style the famous Braemar swing. + +"Thirty-two paces!" said Mack in amazement after he had measured the +throw. "Man alive! you can beat McGee, let alone myself." + +"Now, Mack, get the throw," said Cameron, with enthusiasm. "You will be +a great thrower." But try though he might Mack failed to get the swing. + +"Man, come over to-night and bring your pipes. Danny will fetch out his +fiddle and we will have a bit of a frolic, and," he added, as if in an +afterthought, "I have a big hammer yonder, the regulation size. We might +have a throw or so." + +"Thanks, I will be sure to come," said Cameron eagerly. + +"Come, all of you," said Mack, "and you too, Mandy. We will clear out +the barn floor and have a regular hoe-down." + +"Oh, pshaw!" giggled Mandy, tossing her head. "I can't dance." + +"Oh, come along and watch me, then," said Mack, in good humour, who, +with all his two hundred pounds, was lightfooted as a girl. + +The Murrays' new big bank barn was considered the finest in the country +and the new floor was still quite smooth and eminently suited to a +"hoe-down." Before the darkness had fallen, however, Mack drew Cameron, +with Danny, Perkins, and a few of the neighbours who had dropped in, out +to the lane and, giving him a big hammer, "Try that," he said, with some +doubt in his tone. + +Cameron took the hammer. + +"This is the right thing. The weight of it will make more difference to +me, however, than to you, Mack." + +"Oh, I'm not so sure," said Mack. "Show us how you do it." + +The first throw Cameron took easily. + +"Twenty-nine paces!" cried Mack, after stepping it off. "Man! that's a +great throw, and you do it easy." + +"Not much of a throw," laughed Cameron. "Try it yourself." + +Ignoring the swing, Mack tried the throw in his own style and hurled the +hammer two paces beyond Cameron's throw. + +"You did that with your arms only," said Cameron. "Now you must put legs +and shoulders into it." + +"Let's see you beat that throw yourself," laughed Perkins, who was by no +means pleased with the sudden distinction that had come to the "Scotty." + +Cameron took the hammer and, with the easy slow grace of the Braemar +swing, made his throw. + +"Hooray!" yelled Danny, who was doing the measuring. "You got it yon +time for sure. Three paces to the good. You'll have to put your back +into it, Mack, I guess." + +Once more Mack seized the hammer. Then Cameron took Mack in hand and, +over and over again, coached him in the poise and swing. + +"Now try it, and think of your legs and back. Let the hammer take care +of itself. Now, nice and easy and slow, not far this time." + +Again and again Mack practised the swing. + +"You're getting it!" cried Cameron enthusiastically, "but you are trying +too hard. Forget the distance this time and think only of the easy slow +swing. Let your muscles go slack." So he coached his pupil. + +At length, after many attempts, Mack succeeded in delivering his hammer +according to instructions. + +"Man! you are right!" he exclaimed. "That's the trick of it and it is as +smooth as oil." + +"Keep it up, Mack," said Cameron, "and always easy." + +Over and over again he put the big man through the swing till he began +to catch the notion of the rhythmic, harmonious cooperation of the +various muscles in legs and shoulders and arms so necessary to the +highest result. + +"You've got the swing, Mack," at length said Cameron. "Now then, this +time let yourself go. Don't try your best, but let yourself out. Easy, +now, easy. Get it first in your mind." + +For a moment Mack stood pondering. He was "getting it in his mind." +Then, with a long swing, easy and slow, he gave the great hammer a +mighty heave. With a shout the company crowded about. + +"Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven! +Hooray! bully for you, Mack. You are the lad!" + +"Get the line on it," said Mack quietly. The measuring line showed +one hundred and eleven and a half feet. The boys crowded round him, +exclaiming, cheering, patting him on the back. Mack received the +congratulations in silence, then, turning to Cameron, said very +earnestly: + +"Man! yon's as easy as eating butter. You have done me a good turn +to-day." + +"Oh, that's nothing, Mack," said Cameron, who was more pleased than any +of them. "You got the swing perfectly that time. You can put twenty +feet to that throw. One hundred and eleven feet! Why, I can beat that +myself." + +"Man alive! Do you tell me now!" said Mack in amazement, running his +eyes over Cameron's lean muscular body. + +"I have done it often when I was in shape." + +"Oh, rats!" said Perkins with a laugh. "Where was that?" + +Cameron flushed a deep red, then turned pale, but kept silent. + +"I believe you, my boy," said Mack with emphasis and facing sharply upon +Perkins, "and if ever I do a big throw I will owe it to you." + +"Oh, come off!" said Perkins, again laughing scornfully. "There are +others that know the swing besides Scotty here. What you have got you +owe to no one but yourself, Mack." + +"If I beat the man McGee next week," said Mack quietly, "it will be from +what I learned to-night, and I know what I am saying. Man! it's a lucky +thing we found you. But that will do for just now. Come along to the +barn. Hooray for the pipes and the lassies! They are worth all the +hammers in the world!" And, putting his arm through Cameron's, he led +the way to the barn, followed by the others. + +"If Scotty could only hoe turnips and tie wheat as well as he can play +the pipes and throw the hammer," said Perkins to the others as they +followed in the rear, "I guess he'd soon have us all leaning against the +fence to dry." + +"He will, too, some day," said Tim, whose indignation at Perkins +overcame the shyness which usually kept him silent in the presence of +older men. + +"Hello, Timmy! What are you chipping in for?" said Perkins, reaching for +the boy's coat collar. "He thinks this Scotty is the whole works, and he +is great too--at showing people how to do things." + +"I hear he showed Tim how to hoe turnips," said one of the boys slyly. +The laugh that followed showed that the story of Tim's triumph over the +champion had gone abroad. + +"Oh, rot!" said Perkins angrily. "Tim's got a little too perky because I +let him get ahead of me one night in a drill of turnips." + +"Yeh done yer best, didn't he, Webster?" cried Tim with indignation. + +"Well, he certainly was making some pretty big gashes in them drills," +said Webster slowly. + +"Oh, get out!" replied Perkins. "Though all the same Tim's quite a +turnip-hoer," he conceded. "Hello! There's quite a crowd in the barn, +Danny. I wish I had my store clothes on." + +At this a girl came running to meet them. + +"Come on, Danny! Tune up. I can hardly keep my heels on my boots." + +"Oh, you'll not be wanting my little fiddle after you have heard Cameron +on the pipes, Isa." + +"Never you fear that, Danny," replied Isa, catching him by the arm and +hurrying him onward. + +"Wait a minute. I want you to meet Mr. Cameron," said Danny. + +"Come away, then," replied Isa. "I am dying to get done with it and get +the fiddle going." + +But Cameron was in the meantime engaged, for Mack was busy introducing +him to a bevy of girls who stood at one corner of the barn floor. + +"My! but he's a braw lad!" said Isa gayly, as she watched Cameron making +his bows. + +"Yes, he is that," replied Danny with enthusiastic admiration, "and a +hammer-thrower, too, he is." + +"What! yon stripling?" + +"You may say it. He can beat Mack there." + +"Mack!" cried Isa, with scorn. "It's just big lies you are telling me." + +"Indeed, he has beaten Mack's best throw many a time." + +"And how do you know?" exclaimed Isa. + +"He said so himself." + +"Ah ha!" said Isa scornfully. "He is good at blowing his own horn +whatever, and I don't believe he can beat Mack--and I don't like him a +bit," she continued, her dark eyes flashing and the red colour glowing +in her full round cheek. + +"Come, Isa!" cried Mack, catching sight of her in the dim light. "Come +here, I want Mr. Cameron to meet you." + +"How do you do?" said the girl, giving Cameron her hand and glancing +saucily into his face. "I hear you are a piper and a hammer-thrower and +altogether a wonderful man." + +"A wonderfully lucky man, to have the pleasure of meeting you," said +Cameron, glancing boldly back at her. + +"And I am sure you can dance the fling," continued Isa. "All the +Highlanders do." + +"Not all," said Cameron. "But with certain partners all Highlanders +would love to try." + +"Oh aye," with a soft Highland accent that warmed Cameron's blood. "I +see you have the tongue. Come away, Danny, now, strike up, or I will go +on without you." And the girl kilted her skirts and began a reel, and +as Mack's eyes followed her every step there was no mistaking their +expression. To Mack there was only one girl in the barn, or in all the +world for that matter, and that was the leal-hearted, light-footed, +black-eyed Isa MacKenzie. Bonnie she was, and that she well knew, the +belle of the whole township, driving the men to distraction and for all +that holding the love of her own sex as well. But her heart was still +her own, or at least she thought it was, for all big Mack Murray's open +and simple-hearted adoration, and she was ready for a frolic with any +man who could give her word for word or dance with her the Highland +reel. + +With the courtesy of a true gentleman, Danny led off with his fiddle +till they had all got thoroughly into the spirit and swing of the +frolic, and then, putting his instrument back into its bag, he declared +that they were all tired of it and were waiting for the pipes. + +"Not a bit of it!" cried Isa. "But we will give you a rest, Danny, and +besides I want to dance a reel with you myself--though Mr. Cameron is +not bad," she added, with a little bow to Cameron, with whom she had +just finished a reel. + +Readily enough Cameron tuned his pipes, for he was aching to get at them +and only too glad to furnish music for the gay company of kindly hearted +folk who were giving him his first evening's pleasure since he had left +the Cuagh Oir. + +From reel to schottische and from schottische to reel, foursome and +eightsome, they kept him playing, ever asking for more, till the +gloaming passed into moonlight and still they were not done. The respite +came through Mandy, who, solid in weight and heavy of foot, had laboured +through the reels as often as she could get a partner, and at other +times had sat gazing in rapt devotion upon the piper. + +"Whoop her up again, Scotty!" cried Perkins, when Cameron paused at the +end of a reel. + +"Don't you do it!" said Mandy sharply, her deep voice booming through +the barn. "He's just tired of it, and I'm tired looking at him." + +There was a shout of laughter which covered poor Mandy with wrathful +confusion. + +"Good for you, Mandy," cried Perkins with a great guffaw. "You want some +music now, don't you? So do I. Come on, Danny." + +"No, I don't," snapped Mandy, who could understand neither the previous +laugh nor that which greeted Perkins' sally. + +"Allan," she said, sticking a little over the name, "is tired out, and +besides it's time we were going home." + +"That's right, take him home, Mandy, and put the little dear to bed," +said Perkins. + +"You needn't be so smart, Joe Perkins," said Mandy angrily. "Anyway I'm +going home. I've got to be up early." + +"Me too, Mandy," said Cameron, packing up his pipes, for his sympathy +had been roused for the girl who was championing him so bravely. "I +have had a great night and I have played you all to death; but you will +forgive me. I was lonely for the chanter. I have not touched it since I +left home." + +There was a universal cry of protest as they gathered about him. + +"Indeed, Mr. Cameron, you have given us all a rare treat," cried Isa, +coming close to him, "and I only wish you could pipe and dance at the +same time." + +"That's so!" cried Mack, "but what's the matter with the fiddle, Isa? +Come, Danny, strike up. Let them have a reel together." + +Cameron glanced at Mandy, who was standing impatiently waiting. Perkins +caught the glance. + +"Oh, please let him stay, Mandy," he pleaded. + +"He can stay if he likes," sniffed Mandy scornfully. "I got no string on +him; but I'm goin' home. Good-night, everybody." + +"Good-night, Mandy," called Perkins. "Tell them we're comin'." + +"Just a moment, Mandy!" said Cameron, "and I'm with you. Another time +I hope to do a reel with you, Miss MacKenzie," he said, bidding her +good-night, "and I hope it will be soon." + +"Remember, then," cried Isa, warmly shaking hands with him. "I will keep +you to your promise at the picnic." + +"Fine!" said Cameron, and with easy grace he made his farewells and set +off after Mandy, who by this time was some distance down the lane. + +"You needn't come for me," she said, throwing her voice at him over her +shoulder. + +"What a splendid night we have had!" said Cameron, ignoring her wrath. +"And what awfully nice people." + +Mandy grunted and in silence continued her way down the lane, picking +her steps between the muddy spots and pools left by the rain. + +After some minutes Cameron, who was truly sorry for the girl, ventured +to resume the conversation. + +"Didn't you enjoy the evening, Mandy?" + +"No, I didn't!" she replied shortly. "I can't dance and they all know +it." + +"Why don't you learn, Mandy? You could dance if you practised." + +"I can't. I ain't like the other girls. I'm too clumsy." + +"Not a bit of it," said Cameron. "I've watched you stepping about the +house and you are not a bit clumsy. If you only practised a bit you +would soon pick up the schottische." + +"Oh, you're just saying that because you know I'm mad," said Mandy, +slightly mollified. + +"Not at all. I firmly believe it. I saw you try a schottische to-night +with Perkins and--" + +"Oh, shucks!" said Mandy. "He don't give me no show. He gets mad when I +tramp on him." + +"All you want is practise, Mandy," replied Cameron. + +"Oh, I ain't got no one to show me," said Mandy. "Perkins he won't be +bothered, and--and--there's no one else," she added shyly. + +"Why, I--I would show you," replied Cameron, every instinct of +chivalry demanding that he should play up to her lead, "if I had any +opportunity." + +"When?" said Mandy simply. + +"When?" echoed Cameron, taken aback. "Why, the first chance we get." + +As he spoke the word they reached the new bridge that crossed the deep +ditch that separated the lane from the high road. + +"Here's a good place right here on this bridge," said Mandy with a +giggle. + +"But we have no music," stammered Cameron, aghast at the prospect of a +dancing lesson by moonlight upon the public highway. + +"Oh, pshaw!" said Mandy. "We don't need music. You can just count. I +seen Isa showin' Mack once and they didn't have no music. But," she +added, regarding Cameron with suspicion, "if you don't want to--" + +"Oh, I shall be glad to, but wouldn't the porch be better?" he replied +in desperation. + +"The porch! That's so," assented Mandy eagerly. "Let's hurry before the +rest come home." So saying, she set off at a great pace, followed +by Cameron ruefully wondering to what extent the lesson in the +Terpsichorean art might be expected to go. + +As soon as the porch was reached Mandy cried-- + +"Now let's at the thing. I'm going to learn that schottische if it costs +a leg." + +Without stopping to enquire whose leg might be in peril, Cameron +proceeded with his lesson, and he had not gone through many paces till +he began to recognise the magnitude of the task laid upon him. The +girl's sense of time was accurate enough, but she was undeniably awkward +and clumsy in her movements and there was an almost total absence of +coordination of muscle and brain. She had, however, suffered too long +and too keenly from her inability to join with the others in the dance +to fail to make the best of her opportunity to relieve herself of this +serious disability. + +So, with fierce industry she poised, counted and hopped, according to +Cameron's instructions and example, with never a sign of weariness, but +alas with little indication of progress. + +"Oh, shucks! I can't do it!" she cried at length, pausing in despair. "I +think we could do it better together. That's the way Mack and Isa do it. +I've seen them at it for an hour." + +Cameron's heart sank within him. He had caught an exchange of glances +between the two young people mentioned and he could quite understand how +a lesson in the intricacies of the Highland schottische might very well +be extended over an hour to their mutual satisfaction, but he shrank +with a feeling of dismay, if not disgust, from a like experience with +the girl before him. + +He was on the point of abruptly postponing the lesson when his eye fell +upon her face as she stood in the moonlight which streamed in through +the open door. Was it the mystic alchemy of the moon on her face, or +was it the glowing passion in her wonderful eyes that transfigured the +coarse features? A sudden pity for the girl rose in Cameron's heart and +he said gently, "We will try it together, Mandy." + +He took her hand, put his arm about her waist, but, as he drew her +towards him, with a startled look in her eyes she shrank back saying +hurriedly: + +"I guess I won't bother you any more to-night. You've been awfully good +to me. You're tired." + +"Not a bit, Mandy, come along," replied Cameron briskly. + +At that moment a shadow fell upon the square of moonlight on the floor. +Mandy started back with a cry. + +"My! you scairt me. We were--Allan--Mr. Cameron was learnin' me the +Highland schottische." Her face and her voice were full of fear. + +It was Perkins. White, silent, and rigid, he stood regarding them, for +minutes, it seemed, then turned away. + +"Let's finish," said Cameron quietly. + +"Oh! no, no!" said Mandy in a low voice. "He's awful mad! I'm scairt to +death! He'll do something! Oh! dear, dear! He's awful when he gets mad." + +"Nonsense!" said Cameron. "He can't hurt you." + +"No, but you!" + +"Oh, don't worry about me. He won't hurt me." + +Cameron's tone arrested the girl's attention. + +"But promise me--promise me!" she cried, "that you won't touch him." She +clutched his arm in a fierce grip. + +"Certainly I won't touch him," said Cameron easily, "if he behaves +himself." But in his heart he was conscious of a fierce desire that +Perkins would give him the opportunity to wipe out a part at least of +the accumulated burden of insult he had been forced to bear during the +last three weeks. + +"Oh!" wailed Mandy, wringing her hands. "I know you're going to fight +him. I don't want you to! Do you hear me?" she cried, suddenly gripping +Cameron again by the arm and shaking him. "I don't want you to! Promise +me you won't!" She was in a transport of fear. + +"Oh, this is nonsense, Mandy," said Cameron, laughing at her. "There +won't be any fight. I'll run away." + +"All right," replied the girl quietly, releasing his arm. "Remember you +promised." She turned from him. + +"Good night, Mandy. We will finish our lesson another time, eh?" he said +cheerfully. + +"Good night," replied Mandy, dully, and passed through the kitchen and +into the house. + +Cameron watched her go, then poured for himself a glass of milk from a +pitcher that always stood upon the table for any who might be returning +home late at night, and drank it slowly, pondering the situation the +while. + +"What a confounded mess it is!" he said to himself. "I feel like cutting +the whole thing. By Jove! That girl is getting on my nerves! And that +infernal bounder! She seems to--Poor girl! I wonder if he has got any +hold on her. It would be the greatest satisfaction in the world to teach +HIM a few things too. But I have made up my mind that I am not going to +end up my time here with any row, and I'll stick to that; unless--" and, +with a tingling in his fingers, he passed out into the moonlight. + +As he stepped out from the door a dark mass hurled itself at him, a hand +clutched at his throat, missed as he swiftly dodged back, and carried +away his collar. It was Perkins, his face distorted, his white teeth +showing in a snarl as of a furious beast. Again with a beast-like growl +he sprang, and again Cameron avoided him; while Perkins, missing his +clutch, stumbled over a block of wood and went crashing head first among +a pile of pots and pans and, still unable to recover himself and wildly +grasping whatever chanced to be within reach, fell upon the board that +stood against the corner of the porch to direct the rain into the tub; +but the unstable board slid slowly down and allowed the unfortunate +Perkins to come sitting in the tub full of water. + +"Very neatly done, Perkins!" cried Cameron, whose anger at the furious +attack was suddenly transformed into an ecstasy of delight at seeing the +plight of his enemy. + +Like a cat Perkins was on his feet and, without a single moment's pause, +came on again in silent fury. By an evil chance there lay in his path +the splitting axe, gleaming in the moonlight. Uttering a low choking +cry, as of joy, he seized the axe and sprang towards his foe. Quicker +than thought Cameron picked up a heavy arm chair that stood near the +porch to use it as a shield against the impending attack. + +"Are you mad, Perkins?" he cried, catching the terrific blow that came +crashing down, upon the chair. + +Then, filled with indignant rage at the murderous attack upon him, and +suddenly comprehending the desperate nature of the situation, he sprang +at his antagonist, thrusting the remnants of the chair in his face and, +following hard and fast upon him, pushed him backward and still backward +till, tripping once more, he fell supine among the pots and pans. +Seizing the axe that had dropped from his enemy's hand, Cameron hurled +it far beyond the wood pile and then stood waiting, a cold and deadly +rage possessing him. + +"Come on, you dog!" he said through his shut teeth. "You have been +needing this for some time and now you'll get it." + +"What is it, Joe?" + +Cameron quickly turned and saw behind him Mandy, her face blanched, her +eyes wide, and her voice faint with terror. + +"Oh, nothing much," said Cameron, struggling to recover himself. +"Perkins stumbled over the tub among the pots and pans there. He made +a great row, too," he continued with a laugh, striving to get his voice +under control. + +"What is it, Joe?" repeated Mandy, approaching Perkins. But Perkins +stood leaning against the corner of the porch in a kind of dazed +silence. + +"You've been fighting," she said, turning upon Cameron. + +"Not at all," said Cameron lightly, "but, if you must know, Perkins went +stumbling among these pots and pans and finally sat down in the tub; and +naturally he is mad." + +"Is that true, Joe?" said Mandy, moving slowly nearer him. + +"Oh, shut up, Mandy! I'm all wet, that's all, and I'm going to bed." + +His voice was faint as though he were speaking with an effort. + +"You go into the house," he said to the girl. "I've got something to say +to Cameron here." + +"You are quarreling." + +"Oh, give us a rest, Mandy, and get out! No, there's no quarreling, but +I want to have a talk with Cameron about something. Go on, now!" + +For a few moments she hesitated, looking from one to the other. + +"It's all right, Mandy," said Cameron quietly. "You needn't be afraid, +there won't be any trouble." + +For a moment more she stood, then quietly turned away. + +"Wait!" said Perkins to Cameron, and followed Mandy into the house. For +some minutes Cameron stood waiting. + +"Now, you murderous brute!" he said, when Perkins reappeared. "Come down +to the barn where no girl can interfere." He turned towards the barn. + +"Hold on!" said Perkins, breathing heavily. "Not to-night. I want to say +something. She's waiting to see me go upstairs." + +Cameron came back. + +"What have you got to say, you cur?" he asked in a voice filled with a +cold and deliberate contempt. + +"Don't you call no names," replied Perkins. "It ain't no use." His voice +was low, trembling, but gravely earnest. "Say, I might have killed you +to-night." His breath was still coming in quick short gasps. + +"You tried your best, you dog!" said Cameron. + +"Don't you call no names," panted Perkins again. "I might--a--killed +yeh. I'm mighty--glad--I didn't." He spoke like a man who had had a +great deliverance. "But don't yeh," here his teeth snapped like a dog's, +"don't yeh ever go foolin' with that girl again. Don't yeh--ever--do +it. I seen yeh huggin' her in there and I tell yeh--I tell yeh--," his +breath began to come in sobs, "I won't stand it--I'll kill yeh, sure as +God's in heaven." + +"Are you mad?" said Cameron, scanning narrowly the white distorted face. + +"Mad? Yes, I guess so--I dunno--but don't yeh do it, that's all. She's +mine! Mine! D'yeh hear?" + +He stepped forward and thrust his snarling face into Cameron's. + +"No, I ain't goin' to touch yeh," as Cameron stepped back into a posture +of defense, "not to-night. Some day, perhaps." Here again his teeth came +together with a snap. "But I'm not going to have you or any other +man cutting in on me with that girl. D'yeh hear me?" and he lifted a +trembling forefinger and thrust it almost into Cameron's face. + +Cameron stood regarding him in silent and contemptuous amazement. +Neither of them saw a dark form standing back out of the moonlight, +inside the door. At last Cameron spoke. + +"Now what the deuce does all this mean?" he said slowly. "Is this girl +by any unhappy chance engaged to you?" + +"Yes, she is--or was as good as, till you came; but you listen to me. As +God hears me up there"--he raised his shaking hand and pointed up to +the moonlit sky, and then went on, chewing on his words like a dog on +a bone--"I'll cut the heart out of your body if I catch you monkeying +round that girl again. You've got to get out of here! Everything was all +right till you came sneaking in. You've got to get out! You've got to +get out! D'yeh hear me? You've got to get out!" + +His voice was rising, mad rage was seizing him again, his fingers were +opening and shutting like a man in a death agony. + +Cameron glanced towards the door. + +"I'm done," said Perkins, noting the glance. "That's my last word. You'd +better quit this job." His voice again took on an imploring tone. "You'd +better go or something will sure happen to you. Nobody will miss you +much, except perhaps Mandy." His ghastly face twisted into a snarling +smile, his eyes appeared glazed in the moonlight, his voice was +husky--the man seemed truly insane. + +Cameron stood observing him quietly when he had ceased speaking. + +"Are you finished? Then hear me. First, in regard to this girl, she +doesn't want me and I don't want her, but make up your mind, I promise +you to do all I can to prevent her falling into the hands of a brute +like you. Then as to leaving this place, I shall go just when it suits +me, no sooner." + +"All right," said Perkins, his voice low and trembling. "All right, mind +I warned you! Mind I warned you! But if you go foolin' with that girl, +I'll kill yeh, so help me God." + +These words he uttered with the solemnity of an oath and turned towards +the porch. A dark figure flitted across the kitchen and disappeared into +the house. Cameron walked slowly towards the barn. + +"He's mad. He's clean daffy, but none the less dangerous," he said to +himself. "What a rotten mess all this is!" he added in disgust. "By +Jove! The whole thing isn't worth while." + +But as he thought of Mandy's frightened face and imploring eyes and the +brutal murderous face of the man who claimed her as his own, he said +between his teeth: + +"No, I won't quit now. I'll see this thing through, whatever it costs," +and with this resolve he set himself to the business of getting to +sleep; in which, after many attempts, he was at length successful. + + + +CHAPTER V + +HOW THEY SAVED THE DAY + + +There never was such a Dominion Day for weather since the first Dominion +Day was born. Of this "Fatty" Freeman was fully assured. Fatty Freeman +was a young man for whose opinion older men were accustomed to wait. His +person more than justified his praenomen, for Mr. Harper Freeman, Jr., +was undeniably fat. "Fat, but fine and frisky," was ever his own comment +upon the descriptive adjective by which his friends distinguished him. +And fine and frisky he was; fine in his appreciation of good eating, +fine in his judgment of good cattle and fine in his estimate of men; +frisky, too, and utterly irrepressible. "Harp's just like a young pup," +his own father, the Reverend Harper Freeman, the old Methodist minister +of the Maplehill circuit, used to say. "If Harp had a tail he would +never do anything but play with it." On this, however, it is difficult +to hold any well based opinion. Ebullient in his spirits, he radiated +cheeriness wherever he went and was at the bottom of most of the +practical jokes that kept the village of Maplehill in a state of +ferment; yet if any man thought to turn a sharp corner in business with +Mr. Harper Freeman, Jr., he invariably found that frisky individual +waiting for him round the corner with a cheery smile of welcome, shrewd +and disconcerting. It was this cheery shrewdness of his that made him +the most successful cattle buyer in the county and at the same time +secretary of the Middlesex Caledonian Society. As secretary of this +society he was made chiefly responsible for the success of the Dominion +Day picnic and, as with everything that he took hold of, Fatty toiled +at the business of preparation for this picnic with conscientious zeal, +giving to it all his spare hours and many of his working hours for the +three months preceding. + +It was due solely to his efforts that so many distinguished county +magnates appeared eager to lend their patronage. It needed but a little +persuasion to secure the enthusiastic support of the Honourable J. J. +Patterson, M.P.P., and, incidentally, the handsome challenge cup +for hammer-throwing, for the honourable member of Parliament was a +full-blooded Highlander himself and an ardent supporter of "the games." +But only Fatty Freeman's finesse could have extracted from Dr. Kane, the +Opposition candidate for Provincial Parliamentary honours, the cup for +the hundred yards race, and other cups from other individuals more or +less deeply interested in Dominion, Provincial, and Municipal politics. +The prize list secured, it needed only a skillful manipulation of the +local press and a judicious but persistent personal correspondence +to swell the ranks of the competitors in the various events, and +thus ensure a monster attendance of the people from the neighbouring +townships and from the city near by. + +The weather being assured, Fatty's anxieties were mostly allayed, for he +had on the file in his office acceptance letters from the distinguished +men who were to cast the spell of their oratory over the assembled +multitude, as also from the big men in the athletic world who had +entered for the various events in the programme of sports. It was +a master stroke of diplomacy that resulted in the securing for the +hammer-throwing contest the redoubtable and famous Duncan Ross of +Zorra, who had at first disdained the bait of the Maplehill Dominion Day +picnic, but in some mysterious way had at length been hooked and landed. +For Duncan was a notable man and held the championship of the Zorras; +and indeed in all Ontario he was second only to the world-famous Rory +Maclennan of Glengarry, who had been to Braemar itself and was beaten +there only by a fluke. How he came to agree to be present at the +Maplehill picnic "Black Duncan" could not quite understand, but had he +compared notes with McGee, the champion of the London police force and +of various towns and cities of the western peninsula, he would doubtless +have received some enlightenment. To the skill of the same master hand +was due the appearance upon the racing list of the Dominion Day picnic +of such distinguished names as Cahill of London, Fullerton of Woodstock, +and especially of Eugene La Belle of nowhere in particular, who held the +provincial championship for skating and was a runner of provincial fame. + +In the racing Fatty was particularly interested because his young +brother Wilbur, of whom he was uncommonly proud, a handsome lad, swift +and graceful as a deer, was to make his first essay for more than local +honours. + +The lists for the other events were equally well filled and every +detail of the arrangements for the day had passed under the secretary's +personal review. The feeding of the multitude was in charge of the +Methodist Ladies' Aid, an energetic and exceptionally businesslike +organization, which fully expected to make sufficient profit from the +enterprise to clear off the debt from their church at Maplehill, an +achievement greatly desired not only by the ladies themselves but by +their minister, the Reverend Harper Freeman, now in the third year of +his incumbency. The music was to be furnished by the Band of the +Seventh from London and by no less a distinguished personage than Piper +Sutherland himself from Zorra, former Pipe Major of "The old Forty-twa." +The discovery of another piper in Cameron brought joy to the secretary's +heart, who only regretted that an earlier discovery had not rendered +possible a pipe competition. + +Early in the afternoon the crowds began to gather to MacBurney's woods, +a beautiful maple grove lying midway between the Haleys' farm and +Maplehill village, about two miles distant from each. The grove of +noble maple trees overlooking a grassy meadow provided an ideal spot for +picnicking, furnishing as it did both shade from the sun and a fine open +space with firm footing for the contestants in the games. High over a +noble maple in the centre of the grassy meadow floated the Red Ensign of +the Empire, which, with the Canadian coat of arms on the fly, by common +usage had become the national flag of Canada. From the great trees the +swings were hung, and under their noble spreading boughs were placed the +tables, and the platform for the speech making and the dancing, while at +the base of the encircling hills surrounding the grassy meadow, hard by +the grove another platform was placed, from which distinguished +visitors might view with ease and comfort the contests upon the campus +immediately adjacent. + +Through the fence, let down for the purpose, the people drove in +from the high road. They came in top buggies and in lumber wagons, +in democrats and in "three seated rigs," while from the city came a +"four-in-hand" with McGee, Cahill, and their backers, as well as other +carriages filled with good citizens of London drawn thither by the +promise of a day's sport of more than usual excellence or by the lure +of a day in the woods and fields of God's open country. A specially +fine carriage and pair, owned and driven by the honourable member of +Parliament himself, conveyed Piper Sutherland, with colours streaming +and pipes playing, to the picnic grounds. Warmly was the old piper +welcomed, not only by the frisky cheery secretary, but by many old +friends, and by none more warmly than by the Reverend Alexander Munro, +the douce old bachelor Presbyterian minister of Maplehill, a great lover +of the pipes and a special friend of Piper Sutherland. But the welcome +was hardly over when once more the sound of the pipes was heard far up +the side line. + +"Surely that will be Gunn," said Mr. Munro. + +Sutherland listened for a minute or two. + +"No, it iss not Gunn. Iss Ross coming? No, yon iss not Ross. That +will be a stranger," he continued, turning to the secretary, but +the secretary remained silent, enjoying the old man's surprise and +perplexity. + +"Man, that iss not so bad piping! Not so bad at all! Who iss it?" he +added with some impatience, turning upon the secretary again. + +"Oh, that's Haley's team and I guess that's his hired man, a young +fellow just out from Scotland," replied the secretary indifferently. "I +am no great judge of the pipes myself, but he strikes me as a crackajack +and I shouldn't be surprised if he would make you all sit up." + +But the old piper's ear was closed to his words and open only to the +strains of music ever drawing nearer. + +"Aye, yon's a piper!" he said at length with emphasis. "Yon's a piper!" + +"I only wish I had discovered him in time for a competition," said Fatty +regretfully. + +"Aye," said Sutherland. "Yon's a piper worth playing against." + +And very brave and gallant young Cameron looked as Tim swung his team +through the fence and up to the platform under the trees where the +great ones of the people were standing in groups. They were all there, +Patterson the M.P.P., and Dr. Kane the Opposition candidate, Reeve +Robertson, for ten years the Municipal head of his county, Inspector +Grant, a little man with a massive head and a luminous eye, Patterson's +understudy and generally regarded as his successor in Provincial +politics, the Reverend Harper Freeman, Methodist minister, tall +and lank, with shrewd kindly face and a twinkling eye, the Reverend +Alexander Munro, the Presbyterian minister, solid and sedate, slow to +take fire but when kindled a very furnace for heat. These, with their +various wives and daughters, such as had them, and many others less +notable but no less important, constituted a sort of informal reception +committee under Fatty Freeman's general direction and management. +And here and there and everywhere crowds of young men and maidens, +conspicuous among the latter Isa MacKenzie and her special friends, +made merry with each other, as brave and gallant a company of sturdy +sun-browned youths and bonnie wholesome lassies as any land or age could +ever show. + +"Look at them!" cried the Reverend Harper Freeman, waving his hand +toward the kaleidoscopic gathering. "There's your Dominion Day oration +for you, Mr, Patterson." + +"Most of it done in brown, too," chuckled his son, Harper Freeman, Jr. + +"Yes, and set in jewels and gold," replied his father. + +"You hold over me, Dad!" cried his son. "Here!" he called to Cameron, +who was standing aloof from the others. "Come and meet a brother Scot +and a brother piper, Mr. Sutherland from Zorra, though to your ignorant +Scottish ear that means nothing, but to every intelligent Canadian, +Zorra stands for all that's finest in brain and brawn in Canada." + +"And it takes both to play the pipes, eh, Sutherland?" said the M.P.P. + +"Oh aye, but mostly wind," said the piper. + +"Just like politics, eh, Mr. Patterson?" said the Reverend Harper +Freeman. + +"Yes, or like preaching," replied the M.P.P. + +"One on you, Dad!" said the irrepressible Fatty. + +Meantime Sutherland was warmly complimenting Cameron on his playing. + +"You haf been well taught," he said. + +"No one taught me," said Cameron. "But we had a famous old piper at home +in our Glen, Macpherson was his name." + +"Macpherson! Did he effer play at the Braemar gathering?" + +"Yes, but Maclennan beat him." + +"Maclennan! I haf heard him." The tone was quite sufficient to classify +the unhappy Maclennan. "And I haf heard Macpherson too. You iss a +player. None of the fal-de-rals of your modern players, but grand and +mighty." + +"I agree with you entirely," replied Cameron, his heart warming at +the praise of his old friend of the Glen Cuagh Oir. "But," he added, +"Maclennan is a great player too." + +"A great player? Yes and no. He has the fingers and the notes, but he +iss not the beeg man. It iss the soul that breathes through the chanter. +The soul!" Here he gripped Cameron by the arm. "Man! it iss like +praying. A beeg man will neffer show himself in small things, but when +he will be in communion with his Maker or when he will be pouring out +his soul in a pibroch then the beegness of the man will be manifest. +Aye," continued the piper, warming to his theme and encouraged by the +eager sympathy of his listener, "and not only the beegness but the +quality of the soul. A mean man can play the pipes, but he can neffer +be a piper. It iss only a beeg man and a fine man and, I will venture to +say, a good man, and there are not many men can be pipers." + +"Aye, Mr. Sutherland," broke in the Reverend Alexander Munro, "what you +say is true, but it is true not only of piping. It is true surely of +anything great enough to express the deepest emotions of the soul. A +man is never at his best in anything till he is expressing his noblest +self." + +"For instance in preaching, eh!" said Dr. Kane. + +"Aye, in preaching or in political oratory," replied the minister. + +At this, however, the old piper shook his head doubtfully. + +"You do not agree with Mr. Munro in that?" said the M.P.P. + +"No," replied Sutherland, "speaking iss one thing, piping iss another." + +"And that is no lie, and a mighty good thing too it is," said Dr. Kane +flippantly. + +"It iss no lie," replied the old piper with dignity. "And if you knew +much about either of them you would say it deeferently." + +"Why, what is the difference, Mr. Sutherland?" said Dr. Kane, anxious to +appease the old man. "They both are means of expressing the emotions of +the soul, you say." + +"The deeference! The deeferenee iss it? The deeference iss here, that +the pipes will neffer lie." + +There was a shout of laughter. + +"One for you, Kane!" cried the Reverend Harper Freeman. "And," he +continued when the laughing had ceased, "we will have to take our share +too, Mr. Munro." + +But the hour for beginning the programme had arrived and the secretary +climbed to the platform to announce the events for the day. + +"Ladies and gentlemen!" he cried, in a high, clear, penetrating voice, +"the speech of welcome will be delivered toward the close of the day by +the president of the Middlesex Caledonian Society, the Honourable J. J. +Patterson, M.P.P. My duty is the very simple one of announcing the order +of events on the programme and of expressing on behalf of the Middlesex +Caledonian Society the earnest hope that you all may enjoy the day, and +that each event on the programme will prove more interesting than the +last. The programme is long and varied and I must ask your assistance +to put it through on schedule time. First there are the athletic +competitions. I shall endeavour to assist Dr. Kane and the judges in +running these through without unnecessary and annoying delays. Then will +follow piping, dancing, and feasting in their proper order, after which +will come the presentation of prizes and speeches from our distinguished +visitors. On the platform over yonder there are places for the speakers, +the officials, and the guests of the society, but such is the very +excellent character of the ground that all can be accommodated with +grand stand seats. One disappointment, and one only, I must announce, +the Band of the Seventh, London, cannot be with us to-day." + +"But we will never miss them," interpolated the Reverend Alexander Munro +with solemn emphasis. + +"Exactly so!" continued Fatty when the laugh had subsided. "And now +let's all go in for a good old time picnic, 'where even the farmers +cease from grumbling and the preachers take a rest.' Now take your +places, ladies and gentlemen, for the grand parade is about to begin." + +The programme opened with the one hundred yard flat race. For this race +there were four entries, Cahill from London, Fullerton from Woodstock, +La Belle from nowhere in particular, and Wilbur Freeman from Maplehill. +But Wilbur was nowhere to be seen. The secretary came breathless to the +platform. + +"Where's Wilbur?" he asked his father. + +"Wilbur? Surely he is in the crowd, or in the tent perhaps." + +At the tent the secretary found his brother nursing a twisted ankle, +heart-sick with disappointment. Early in the day he had injured his foot +in an attempt to fasten a swing upon a tree. Every minute since that +time he had spent in rubbing and manipulating the injured member, but +all to no purpose. While the pain was not great, a race was out of the +question. The secretary was greatly disturbed and as nearly wrathful as +ever he allowed himself to become. He was set on his brother making a +good showing in this race; moreover, without Wilbur there would be no +competitor to uphold the honour of Maplehill in this contest and this +would deprive it of much of its interest. + +"What the dickens were you climbing trees for?" he began impatiently, +but a glance at his young brother's pale and woe-stricken face changed +his wrath to pity. "Never mind, old chap," he said, "better luck next +time, and you will be fitter too." + +Back he ran to the platform, for he must report the dismal news to his +mother, whose chief interest in the programme for the day lay in this +race in which her latest born was to win his spurs. The cheery secretary +was nearly desperate. It was an ominous beginning for the day's sports. +What should he do? He confided his woe to Mack and Cameron, who were +standing close by the platform. + +"It will play the very mischief with the programme. It will spoil the +whole day, for Wilbur was the sole Maplehill representative in the three +races; besides, I believe the youngster would have shown up well." + +"He would that!" cried Mack heartily. "He was a bird. But is there no +one else from the Hill that could enter?" + +"No, no one with a chance of winning, and no fellow likes to go in +simply to be beaten." + +"What difference?" said Cameron. "It's all in a day's sport." + +"That's so," said Mack. "If I could run myself I would enter. I wonder +if Danny would--" + +"Danny!" said the secretary shortly. "You know better than that. +Danny's too shy to appear before this crowd even if he were dead sure of +winning." + +"Say, it is too bad!" continued Mack, as the magnitude of the calamity +grew upon him. "Surely we can find some one to make an appearance. What +about yourself, Cameron? Did you ever race?" + +"Some," said Cameron. "I raced last year at the Athole Games." + +Fatty threw himself upon him. + +"Cameron, you are my man! Do you want to save your country, and perhaps +my life, certainly my reputation? Get out of those frills," touching his +kilt, "and I'll get a suit from one of the jumpers for you. Go! Bless +your soul, anything you want that's mine you can have! Only hustle for +dear life's sake! Go! Go! Go! Take him away, Mack. We'll get something +else on!" + +Fatty actually pushed Cameron clear away from the platform and after him +big Mack. + +"There seems to be no help for it," said Cameron, as they went to the +tent together. + +"It's awful good of you," replied Mack, "but you can see how hard Fatty +takes it, though it is not a bit fair to you." + +"Oh, nobody knows me here," said Cameron, "and I don't mind being a +victim." + +But as Mack saw him get into his jersey and shorts he began to wonder a +bit. + +"Man, it would be great if you should beat yon Frenchman!" he exclaimed. + +"Frenchman?" + +"Yes! La Belle. He is that stuck on himself; he thinks he is a winner +before he starts." + +"It's a good way to think, Mack. Now let us get down into the woods and +have a bit of a practise in the 'get away.' How do they start here? With +a pistol?" + +"No," replied Mack. "We are not so swell. The starter gives the word +this way, 'All set? Go!'" + +"All right, Mack, you give me the word sharp. I am out of practise and I +must get the idea into my head." + +"You are great on the idea, I see," replied Mack. + +"Right you are, and it is just the same with the hammer, Mack." + +"Aye, I have found that out." + +For twenty minutes or so Cameron practised his start and at every +attempt Mack's confidence grew, so that when he brought his man back to +the platform he announced to a group of the girls standing near, "Don't +say anything, but I have the winner right here for you." + +"Why, Mr. Cameron," cried Isa, "what a wonder you are! What else can you +do? You are a piper, a dancer, a hammer-thrower, and now a runner." + +"Jack-of-all-trades," laughed Perkins, who, with Mandy, was standing +near. + +"Yes, but you can't say 'Master of none,'" replied Isa sharply. + +"Better wait," said Cameron. "I have entered this race only to save Mr. +Freeman from collapse." + +"Collapse? Fatty? He couldn't," said Isa with emphasis. + +"Lass, I do not know," said Mack gravely. "He looked more hollow than +ever I have seen him before." + +"Well, we'll all cheer for you, Mr. Cameron, anyway," cried Isa. "Won't +we, girls? Oh, if wishes were wings!" + +"Wings?" said Mandy, with a puzzled air. "What for? This is a RACE." + +"Didn't you never see a hen run, Mandy?" laughed Perkins. + +"Yes, I have, but I tell you Mr. Cameron ain't no hen," replied Mandy +angrily. "And more! He's going to win." + +"Say, Mandy, that is the talk," said Mack, when the laugh had passed. +"Did you hear yon?" he added to Cameron. + +Cameron nodded. + +"It is a good omen," he said. "I am going to do my best." + +"And, by Jingo! if you only had a chance," said Mack, "I believe you +would lick them all." + +At this Fatty bustled up. + +"All ready, eh? Cameron, I shall owe you something for this. La Belle +kicked like a steer against your entering at the last minute. It is +against the rules, you know. But he's given in." + +Fatty did not explain that he had intimated to La Belle that there +was no need for anxiety as far as the "chap from the old country" was +concerned; he was there merely to fill up. + +But if La Belle's fears were allayed by the secretary's disparaging +description of the latest competitor, they sprang full grown into life +again when he saw Cameron "all set" for the start, and more especially +so when he heard his protest against the Frenchman's method in the "get +away." + +"I want you to notice," he said firmly to Dr. Kane, who was acting as +starter, "that this man gets away WITH the word 'Go' and not AFTER it. +It is an old trick, but long ago played out." + +Then the Frenchman fell into a rage. + +"Eet ees no treeck!" sputtered La Belle. "Eet ees too queeck for him." + +"All right!" said Dr. Kane. "You are to start after the word 'Go.' +Remember! Sorry we have no pistol." + +Once more the competitors crouched over the scratch. + +"All set? Go!" + +Like the releasing of a whirlwind the four runners spring from the +scratch, La Belle, whose specialty is his "get away," in front, +Fullerton and Cameron in second place, Cahill a close third. A blanket +would cover them all. A tumult of cheers from the friends of the various +runners follows them along their brief course. + +"Who is it? Who is it?" cries Mandy breathlessly, clutching Mack by the +arm. + +"Cameron, I swear!" roars Mack, pushing his way through the crowd to the +judges. + +"No! No! La Belle! La Belle!" cried the Frenchman's backers from the +city. The judges are apparently in dispute. + +"I swear it is Cameron!" roars Mack again in their ears, his eyes aflame +and his face alight with a fierce and triumphant joy. "It is Cameron I +am telling you!" + +"Oh, get out, you big bluffer!" cries a thin-faced man, pressing close +upon the judges. "It is La Belle by a mile!" + +"By a mile, is it?" shouts Mack. "Then go and hunt your man!" and with +a swift motion his big hand falls upon the thin face and sweeps it clear +out of view, the man bearing it coming to his feet in a white fury some +paces away. A second look at Mack, however, calms his rage, and from a +distance he continues leaping and yelling "La Belle! La Belle!" + +After a few moments' consultation the result is announced. + +"A tie for the first place between La Belle and Cameron! Time eleven +seconds! The tie will be run off in a few minutes." + +In a tumult of triumph big Mack shoulders Cameron through the crowd +and carries him off to the dressing tent, where he spends the next ten +minutes rubbing his man's legs and chanting his glory. + +"Who is this Cameron?" enquired the M.P.P., leaning over the platform +railing. + +Quick came the answer from the bevy of girls thronging past the +platform. + +"Cameron? He's our man!" It was Mandy's voice, bold and strong. + +"Your man?" said the M.P.P., laughing down into the coarse flushed face. + +"Yes, OUR man!" cried Isa MacKenzie back at him. "And a winner, you may +be sure." + +"Ah, happy man!" exclaimed the M.P.P. "Who would not win with such +backers? Why, I would win myself, Miss Isa, were you to back me so. But +who is Cameron?" he continued to the Methodist minister at his side. + +"He is Haley's hired man, I believe, and that first girl is Haley's +daughter." + +"Poor thing!" echoed Mrs. Freeman, a kindly smile on her motherly face. +"But she has a good heart has poor Mandy." + +"But why 'poor'?" enquired the M.P.P. + +"Oh, well," answered Mrs. Freeman with hesitation, "you see she is so +very plain--and--well, not like other girls. But she is a good worker +and has a kind heart." + +Once more the runners face the starter, La Belle gay, alert, confident; +Cameron silent, pale, and grim. + +"All set? Go!" La Belle is away ere the word is spoken. The bell, +however, brings him back, wrathful and less confident. + +Once more they stand crouching over the scratch. Once more the word +releases them like shafts from the bow. A beautiful start, La Belle +again in the lead, but Cameron hard at his heels and evidently with +something to spare. Thus for fifty yards, sixty, yes, sixty-five. + +"La Belle! La Belle! He wins! He wins!" yell his backers frantically, +the thin-faced man dancing madly near the finishing tape. Twenty yards +to go and still La Belle is in the lead. High above the shouting rises +Mack's roar. + +"Now, Cameron! For the life of you!" + +It was as if his voice had touched a spring somewhere in Cameron's +anatomy. A great leap brings him even with La Belle. Another, another, +and still another, and he breasts the tape a winner by a yard, time ten +and three fifths seconds. The Maplehill folk go mad, and madder than all +Isa and her company of girl friends. + +"I got--one--bad--start--me! He--pull--me back!" panted La Belle to his +backers who were holding him up. + +"Who pulled you back?" indignantly cried the thin-faced man, looking for +blood. + +"That sacre startair!" + +"You ran a fine race, La Belle!" said Cameron, coming up. + +"Non! Peste! I mak heem in ten and one feeft," replied the disgusted La +Belle. + +"I have made it in ten," said Cameron quietly. + +"Aha!" exclaimed La Belle. "You are one black horse, eh? So! I race no +more to-day!" + +"Then no more do I!" said Cameron firmly. "Why, La Belle, you will beat +me in the next race sure. I have no wind." + +Under pressure La Belle changed his mind, and well for him he did; for +in the two hundred and twenty yards and in the quarter mile Cameron's +lack of condition told against him, so that in the one he ran second to +La Belle and in the other third to La Belle and Fullerton. + +The Maplehill folk were gloriously satisfied, and Fatty in an ecstasy of +delight radiated good cheer everywhere. Throughout the various contests +the interest continued to deepen, the secretary, with able generalship, +reserving the hammer-throwing as the most thrilling event to the last +place. For, more than anything in the world, men, and especially women, +love strong men and love to see them in conflict. For that fatal love +cruel wars have been waged, lands have been desolated, kingdoms have +fallen. There was the promise of a very pretty fight indeed between the +three entered for the hammer-throwing contest, two of them experienced +in this warfare and bearing high honours, the third new to the game and +unskilled, but loved for his modest courage and for the simple, gentle +heart he carried in his great body. He could not win, of course, for +McGee, the champion of the city police force, had many scalps at his +girdle, and Duncan Ross, "Black Duncan," the pride of the Zorras, the +unconquered hero of something less than a hundred fights--who could hope +to win from him? But all the more for this the people loved big Mack and +wished him well. So down the sloping sides of the encircling hills the +crowds pressed thick, and on the platform the great men leaned over +the rail, while they lifted their ladies to places of vantage upon the +chairs beside them. + +"Oh, I cannot see a bit!" cried Isa MacKenzie, vainly pressing upon the +crowding men who, stolidly unaware of all but what was doing in front of +them, effectually shut off her view. + +"And you want to see?" said the M.P.P., looking down at her. + +"Oh, so much!" she cried. + +"Come up here, then!" and, giving her a hand, he lifted her, smiling and +blushing, to a place on the platform whence she with absorbing interest +followed the movements of big Mack, and incidentally of the others in as +far as they might bear any relation to those of her hero. + +And now they were drawing for place. + +"Aha! Mack is going to throw first!" said the Reverend Alexander Munro. +"That is a pity." + +"It's a shame!" cried Isa, with flashing eyes. "Why don't they put one +of those older--ah--?" + +"Stagers?" suggested the M.P.P. + +"Duffers," concluded Isa. + +"The lot determines the place, Miss Isa," said Mr. Freeman, with a smile +at her. "But the best man will win." + +"Oh, I am not so sure of that!" cried the girl in a distressed voice. +"Mack might get nervous." + +"Nervous?" laughed the M.P.P. "That giant?" + +"Yes, indeed, I have seen him that nervous--" said Isa, and stopped +abruptly. + +"Ah! That is quite possible," replied the M.P.P. with a quizzical smile. + +"And there is young Cameron yonder. He is not going to throw, is he?" +enquired Mr. Munro. + +"He is coaching Mack," explained Isa, "and fine he is at it. Oh, there! +He is going to throw! Oh, if he only gets the swing! Oh! Oh! Oh! He has +got it fine!" + +A storm of cheers followed Mack's throw, then a deep silence while the +judges took the measurement. + +"One hundred and twenty-one feet!" + +"One hundred and twenty-one!" echoed a hundred voices in amazement. + +"One hundred and twenty-one! It is a lie!" cried McGee with an oath, +striding out to personally supervise the measuring. + +"One hundred and twenty-one!" said Duncan Ross, shaking his head +doubtfully, but he was too much of a gentleman to do other than wait for +the judges' decision. + +"One hundred and twenty-one feet and two inches," was the final verdict, +and from the crowd there rose a roar that rolled like thunder around the +hills. + +"It's a fluke, and so it is!" said McGee with another oath. + +"Give me your hand, lad," said Duncan Ross, evidently much roused. "It +iss a noble throw whateffer, and worthy of beeg Rory himself. I haf done +better, howeffer, but indeed I may not to-day." + +It was indeed a great throw, and one immediate result was that there +was no holding back in the contest, no playing 'possum. Mack's throw was +there to be beaten, and neither McGee nor even Black Duncan could afford +to throw away a single chance. For hammer-throwing is an art requiring +not only strength but skill as well, and not only strength and skill but +something else most difficult to secure. With the strength and the skill +there must go a rhythmic and perfect coordination of all the muscles in +the body, with exactly the proper contracting and relaxing of each at +exactly the proper moment of time, and this perfect coordination is a +result rarely achieved even by the greatest throwers, but when achieved, +and with the man's full strength behind it, his record throw is the +result. + +Meantime Cameron was hovering about his man in an ecstasy of delight. + +"Oh, Mack, old man!" he said. "You got the swing perfectly. It was a +dream. And if you had put your full strength into it you would have made +a world record. Why, man, you could add ten feet to it!" + +"It is a fluke!" said McGee again, as he took his place. + +"Make one like it, then, my lad," said Black Duncan with a grim smile. + +But this McGee failed to do, for his throw measured ninety-seven feet. + +"A very fair throw, McGee," said Black Duncan. "But not your best, and +nothing but the best will do the day appearingly." + +With that Black Duncan took place for his throw. One--twice--thrice he +swung the great hammer about his head, then sent it whirling into the +air. Again a mighty shout announced a great throw and again a dead +silence waited for the measurement. + +"One hundred and fourteen feet!" + +"Aha!" said Black Duncan, and stepped back apparently well satisfied. + +It was again Mack's turn. + +"You have the privilege of allowing your first throw to stand," said Dr. +Kane. + +"Best let it stand, lad, till it iss beat," advised Black Duncan kindly. +"It iss a noble throw." + +"He can do better, though," said Cameron. + +"Very well, very well!" said Duncan. "Let him try." + +But Mack's success had keyed him up to the highest pitch. Every nerve +was tingling, every muscle taut. His first throw he had taken without +strain, being mainly anxious, under Cameron's coaching, to get the +swing, but under the excitement incident to the contest he had put more +strength into the throw than appeared either to himself or to his coach. +Now, however, with nerves and muscles taut, he was eager to increase +his distance, too eager it seemed, for his second throw measured only +eighty-nine feet. + +A silence fell upon his friends and Cameron began to chide him. + +"You went right back to your old style, Mack. There wasn't the sign of a +swing." + +"I will get it yet, or bust!" said big Mack between his teeth. + +McGee's second throw went one hundred and seventeen feet. A cheer arose +from his backers, for it was a great throw and within five feet of +his record. Undoubtedly McGee was in great form and he might well be +expected to measure up to his best to-day. + +Black Duncan's second throw measured one hundred and nineteen feet +seven, which was fifteen feet short of his record and showed him to be +climbing steadily upward. + +Once more the turn came to Mack, and once more, with almost savage +eagerness, he seized the hammer preparatory to his throw. + +"Now, Mack, for heaven's sake go easy!" said Cameron. "Take your swing +easy and slow." + +But Mack heeded him not. "I can beat it!" he muttered between his shut +teeth, "and I will." So, with every nerve taut and every muscle strained +to its limit, he made his third attempt. It was in vain. The measure +showed ninety-seven feet six. A suppressed groan rose from the Maplehill +folk. + +"A grand throw, lad, for a beginner," said Black Duncan. + +The excitement now became intense. By his first throw of one hundred and +twenty-one feet two, Mack remained still the winner. But McGee had +only four feet to gain and Black Duncan less than two to equal him. +The little secretary went skipping about aglow with satisfaction +and delight. The day was already famous in the history of Canadian +athletics. + +Again McGee took place for his throw, his third and last. The crowd +gathered in as near as they dared. But McGee had done his best for that +day, and his final throw measured only one hundred and five feet. + +There remained yet but a single chance to wrest from Mack Murray the +prize for that day, but that chance lay in the hands of Duncan Ross, the +cool and experienced champion of many a hard-fought fight. Again Black +Duncan took the hammer. It was his last throw. He had still fifteen feet +to go to reach his own record, and he had often beaten the throw that +challenged him to-day, but, on the other hand, he had passed through +many a contest where his throw had fallen short of the one he must now +beat to win. A hush fell upon the people as Black Duncan took his place. +Once--twice--and, with ever increasing speed, thrice he swung the great +hammer, then high and far it hurtled through the air. + +"Jerusalem!" cried Mack. "What a fling!" + +"Too high," muttered Black Duncan. "You have got it, lad, you have got +it, and you well deserve it." + +"Tut-tut, nonsense!" said Mack impatiently. "Wait you a minute." + +Silent and expectant the crowd awaited the result. Twice over the judges +measured the throw, then announced "One hundred and twenty-one feet." +Mack had won by two inches. + +A great roar rose from the crowd, round Mack they surged like a flood, +eager to grip his hands and eager to carry him off shoulder high. But +he threw them off as a rock throws back the incoming tide and made +for Duncan Ross, who stood, calm and pale, and with hand outstretched, +waiting him. It was a new experience for Black Duncan, and a bitter, to +be second in a contest. Only once in many years had he been forced to +lower his colours, and to be beaten by a raw and unknown youth added +to the humiliation of his defeat. But Duncan Ross had in his veins the +blood of a long line of Highland gentlemen who knew how to take defeat +with a smile. + +"I congratulate you, Mack Murray," he said in a firm, clear voice. "Your +fame will be through Canada tomorrow, and well you deserve it." + +But Mack caught the outstretched hand in both of his and, leaning toward +Black Duncan, he roared at him above the din. + +"Mr. Ross, Mr. Ross, it is no win! Listen to me!" he panted. "What are +two inches in a hundred and twenty feet? A stretching of the tape will +do it. No, no! Listen to me! You must listen to me as you are a man! I +will not have it! You can beat me easily in the throw! At best it is a +tie and nothing else will I have to-day. At least let us throw again!" +he pleaded. But to this Ross would not listen for a moment. + +"The lad has made his win," he said to the judges, "and his win he must +have." + +But Mack declared that nothing under heaven would make him change his +mind. Finally the judges, too, agreed that in view of the possibility of +a mistake in measuring with the tape, it would be only right and fair +to count the result a tie. Black Duncan listened respectfully to the +judges' decision. + +"You are asking me a good deal, Mack," he said at length, "but you are a +gallant lad and I am an older man and--" + +"Aye! And a better!" shouted Mack. + +"And so I will agree." + +Once more the field was cleared. And now there fell upon the crowding +people a hush as if they stood in the presence of death itself. + +"Ladies and gentlemen!" said the M.P.P. "Do you realise that you are +looking upon a truly great contest, a contest great enough to be of +national, yes, of international, importance?" + +"You bet your sweet life!" cried the irrepressible Fatty. "We're going +some. 'What's the matter with our Mack?'" he shouted. + +"'HE'S--ALL--RIGHT!'" came back the chant from the surrounding hills in +hundreds of voices. + +"And what's the matter with Duncan Ross?" cried Mack, waving a hand +above his head. + +Again the assurance of perfect rightness came back in a mighty roar +from the hills. But it was hushed into immediate silence, a silence +breathless and overwhelming, for Black Duncan had taken once more his +place with the hammer in his hand. + +"Oh, I do wish they would hurry!" gasped Isa, her hands pressed hard +upon her heart. + +"My heart is rather weak, too," said the M.P.P. "I fear I cannot last +much longer. Ah! There he goes, thank God!" + +"Amen!" fervently responds little Mrs. Freeman, who, in the intensity +of her excitement, is standing on a chair holding tight by her husband's +coat collar. + +Not a sound breaks the silence as Black Duncan takes his swing. It is a +crucial moment in his career. Only by one man in Canada has he ever been +beaten, and with the powers of his antagonist all untried and unknown, +for anyone could see that Mack has not yet thrown his best, he may be +called upon to surrender within the next few minutes the proud position +he has held so long in the athletic world. But there is not a sign +of excitement in his face. With great care, and with almost painful +deliberation, he balances the hammer for a moment or two, then +once--twice--and, with a tremendous quickening of speed,--thrice--he +swings, and his throw is made. A great throw it is, anyone can see, and +one that beats the winner. In hushed and strained silence the people +await the result. + +"One hundred and twenty-one feet nine." + +Then rises the roar that has been held pent up during the last few +nerve-racking minutes. + +"It iss a good enough throw," said Black Duncan with a quiet smile, "but +there iss more in me yet. Now, lad, do your best and there will be no +hard feeling with thiss man whateffer happens." + +Black Duncan's accent and idioms reveal the intense excitement that lies +behind his quiet face. + +Mack takes the hammer. + +"I will not beat it, you may be sure," he says. "But I will just take a +fling at it anyway." + +"Now, Mack," says Cameron, "for the sake of all you love forget the +distance and show them the Braemar swing. Easy and slow." + +But Mack waves him aside and stands pondering. He is "getting the idea." + +"Man, do you see him?" whispers his brother Danny, who stands near to +Cameron. "I believe he has got it." + +Cameron nods his head. Mack wears an impressive air of confidence and +strength. + +"It will be a great throw," says Cameron to Danny. + +"Easy and slow" Mack poises the great hammer in his hand, swinging it +gently backward and forward as if it had been a boy's toy, the great +muscles in arms and back rippling up and down in firm full waves under +his white skin, for he is now stripped to the waist for this throw. + +Suddenly, as if at command, the muscles seem to spring to their places, +tense, alert. "Easy." Yes, truly, but by no means "slow." "Easy," the +great hammer swings about his head in whirling circles, swift and ever +swifter. Once--and twice--the great muscles in back and arms and back +and legs knotted in bunches--thrice! + +"Ah-h-h!" A long, wailing, horrible sound, half moan, half cry, breaks +from the people. Mack has missed his direction, and the great hammer, +weighted with the potentialities of death, is describing a parabola high +over the heads of the crowding, shrieking, scattering people. + +"Oh, my God! My God! Oh, my God! My God!" With his hands covering his +eyes the big man is swaying from side to side like a mighty tree before +a tempest. Cameron and Ross both spring to him. On the hillsides men +stand rigid, pale, shaking; women shriek and faint. One ghastly moment +of suspense, and then a horrid sickening thud; one more agonising second +of silence, and then from a score of throats rises a cry: + +"It's all right! All right! No one hurt!" + +From five hundred throats breaks a weird unearthly mingling of strange +sounds; cheers and cries, shouts and sobs, prayers and oaths. In the +midst of it all Mack sinks to his knees, with hands outstretched to +heaven. + +"Great God, I thank Thee! I thank Thee!" he cries brokenly, the tears +streaming down his ghastly face. Then, falling forward upon his hands, +he steadies himself while great sobs come heaving from his mighty chest. +Cameron and Ross, still upholding him, through the crowd a man comes +pushing his way, hurling men and women right and left. + +"Back, people! And be still." It is the minister, Alexander Munro. "Be +still! It is a great deliverance that God has wrought! Peace, woman! God +is near! Let us pray." + +Instantly all noises are hushed, hats come off, and all up the sloping +hills men and women fall to their knees, or remain standing with heads +bowed, while the minister, upright beside the kneeling man, spreads his +hands towards heaven and prays in a voice steady, strong, thrilling: + +"Almighty God, great and wonderful in Thy ways, merciful and gracious +in Thy providence, Thou hast wrought a great deliverance before our eyes +this day. All power is in Thy hands. All forces move at Thy command. +Thine hand it is that guided this dread hammer harmless to its own +place, saving the people from death. It is ever thus, Father, for Thou +art Love. We lift to Thee our hearts' praise. May we walk softly before +Thee this day and alway. Amen!" + +"Amen! Amen!" On every hand and up the hillsides rises the fervent +solemn attestation. + +"Rise, Mr. Murray!" says the minister in a loud and solemn voice, giving +Mack his hand. "God has been gracious to you this day. See that you do +not forget." + +"He has that! He has that!" sobs Mack. "And God forgive me if I ever +forget." And, suddenly pushing from him the many hands stretched out +towards him, he stumbles his way through the crowd, led off by his two +friends towards the tent. + +"Hold on there a minute! Let us get this measurement first." It was the +matter-of-fact, cheery voice of Fatty Freeman. "If I am not mistaken we +have a great throw to measure." + +"Quite right, Mr. Freeman," said the minister. "Let us get the +measurement and let not the day be spoiled." + +"Here, you people, don't stand there gawking like a lot of dotty +chumps!" cried the secretary, striving to whip them out of the mood of +horror into which they had fallen. "Get a move on! Give the judges a +chance! What is it, doctor?" + +The judges were consulting. At length the decision was announced. + +"One hundred and twenty-nine seven." + +"Hooray!" yelled Fatty, flinging his straw hat high. "One hundred and +twenty-nine seven! It is a world throw! Why don't you yell, you people? +Don't you know that you have a world-beater among you? Yell! Yell!" + +"Three cheers for Mack Murray!" called out the Reverend Harper Freeman +from the platform, swinging his great black beaver hat over his head. + +It was what the people wanted. Again, and again, and yet again the crowd +exhausted its pent-up emotions in frantic cheers. The clouds of gloom +were rolled back, the sun was shining bright again, and with fresh zest +the people turned to the enjoyment of the rest of the programme. + +"Thank you, Sir!" said Fatty amid the uproar, gripping the hand of Mr. +Munro. "You have saved the day for us. We were all going to smash, but +you pulled us out." + +Meantime in the tent Duncan Ross was discoursing to his friends. + +"Man, Mack! Yon's a mighty throw! Do you know it iss within five feet +of my own record and within ten of Big Rory's? Then," he said solemnly, +"you are in the world's first class to-day, my boy, and you are just +beginning." + +"I have just quit!" said Mack. + +"Whist, lad! Thiss iss not the day for saying anything about it. We +will wait a wee and to-day we will just be thankful." And with that they +turned to other things. + +They were still in the dressing tent when the secretary thrust his +cheery face under the flap. + +"I say, boys! Are you ready? Cameron, we want you on the pipes." + +"Harp!" said Mack. "I am going home. I am quite useless." + +"And me, too," said Cameron. "I shall go with you, Mack." + +"What?" cried Fatty in consternation. "Look here, boys! Is this a square +deal? God knows I am nearly all in myself. I've had enough to keep this +thing from going to pieces. Don't you go back on me now!" + +"That is so!" said Mack slowly. "Cameron, you must stay. You are needed. +I will spoil things more by staying than by going. I would be forever +seeing that hammer crushing down--" He covered his face with his hands +and shuddered. + +"All right, Mack! I will stay," said Cameron. "But what about you?" + +"Oh," said Black Duncan, "Mack and I will walk about and have a smoke +for a little." + +"Thanks, boys, you are the stuff!" said Fatty fervently. "Once more you +have saved the day. Come then, Cameron! Get your pipes. Old Sutherland +is waiting for you." + +But before he set off Mack called Cameron to him. + +"You will see Isa," he said, "and tell her why I could not stay. And you +will take her home." His face was still pallid, his voice unsteady. + +"I will take care of her, Mack, never fear. But could you not remain? It +might help you." + +But Mack only shook his head. His fervent Highland soul had too recently +passed through the valley of death and its shadows were still upon him. + +Four hours later Fatty looked in upon Mack at his own home. He found him +sitting in the moonlight in the open door of the big new barn, with his +new-made friend, Duncan Ross, at one door post and old Piper Sutherland +at the other, while up and down the floor in the shadow within Cameron +marched, droning the wild melody of the "Maccrimmon Lament." Mournful +and weird it sounded through the gloom, but upon the hearts of these +Highlanders it fell like a soothing balm. With a wave of his hand Mack +indicated a seat, which Fatty took without a word. Irrepressible though +he was, he had all the instincts of a true gentleman. He knew it was the +time for silence, and silent he stood till the Lament had run through +its "doubling" and its "trebling," ending with the simple stately +movement of its original theme. To Fatty it was a mere mad and +unmelodious noise, but, reading the faces of the three men before him in +the moonlight, he had sense enough to recognise his own limitations. + +At length the Lament was finished and Cameron came forward into the +light. + +"Ah! That iss good for the soul," said old piper Sutherland. "Do you +know what your pipes have been saying to me in yon Lament? + + 'Yea, though I walk through Death's dark vale, + Yet will I fear none ill; + For Thou art with me, and Thy rod + And staff me comfort still.' + +And we have been in the valley thiss day." + +Mack rose to his feet. + +"I could not have said it myself, but, as true as death, that is the +word for me." + +"Well," said Fatty, rising briskly, "I guess you are all right, Mack. I +confess I was a bit anxious about you, but--" + +"There is no need," said Mack gravely. "I can sleep now." + +"Good-night, then," replied Fatty, turning to go. "Cameron, I owe you a +whole lot. I won't forget it." He set his hat upon the back of his head, +sticking his hands into his pockets and surveying the group before him. +"Say! You Highlanders are a great bunch. I do not pretend to understand +you, but I want to say that between you you have saved the day." And +with that the cheery, frisky, irrepressible, but kindly little man faded +into the moonlight and was gone. + +For the fourth time the day had been saved. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A SABBATH DAY IN LATE AUGUST + + +It was a Sabbath day in late August, and in no month of the year does +a Sabbath day so chime with the time. For the Sabbath day is a day for +rest and holy thought, and the late August is the rest time of the year, +when the woods and fields are all asleep in a slumberous blue haze; the +sacred time, too, for in late August old Mother Earth is breathing her +holiest aspirations heavenward, having made offering of her best in the +full fruitage of the year. Hence a Sabbath day in late August chimes +marvellously well with the time. + +And this particular Sabbath day was perfect of its kind, a dreamy, +drowsy day, a day when genial suns and hazy cool airs mingle in +excellent harmony, and the tired worker, freed from his week's toil, +basks and stretches, yawns and revels in rest under the orchard trees; +unless, indeed, he goes to morning church. And to morning church Cameron +went as a rule, but to-day, owing to a dull ache in his head and a +general sense of languor pervading his limbs, he had chosen instead, as +likely to be more healing to his aching head and his languid limbs, the +genial sun, tempered with cool and lazy airs under the orchard trees. +And hence he lay watching the democrat down the lane driven off to +church by Perkins, with Mandy beside him in the front seat, the seat +of authority and of activity, and Mr. Haley alone in the back seat, the +seat of honour and of retirement. Mrs. Haley was too overborne by the +heat and rush of the busy week to adventure the heat and dust of the +road, and to sustain the somewhat strenuous discourse of the Reverend +Harper Freeman, to whose flock the Haleys belonged. This, however, was +not Mrs. Haley's invariable custom. In the cooler weather it was her +habit to drive on a Sunday morning to church, sitting in the back seat +beside her husband, with Tim and Mandy occupying the front seat beside +the hired man, but during the heat and hurry of the harvest time she +would take advantage of the quietness of the house and of the two or +three hours' respite from the burden of household duties to make up +arrears of sleep accumulated during the preceding week, salving her +conscience, for she had a conscience in the matter, with a promise that +she might go in the evening when it was cooler and when she was more +rested. This promise, however, having served its turn, was never +fulfilled, for by the evening the wheels of household toil began once +more to turn, and Mrs. Haley found it easier to worship vicariously, +sending Mandy and Tim to the evening service. And to this service the +young people were by no means loath to go, for it was held on fair +evenings in MacBurney's woods, two miles away by the road, one mile by +the path through the woods. On occasion Perkins would hitch up in the +single buggy Dexter, the fiery young colt, too fiery for any other to +drive, and, as a special attention to his employer's daughter, would +drive her to the service. But since the coming of Cameron, Mandy had +allowed this custom to fall into disuse, at first somewhat to Perkins' +relief, for the colt was restless and fretted against the tie rein; +and, besides, Perkins was not as yet quite prepared to acknowledge any +special relationship between himself and the young lady in question +before the assembled congregation, preferring to regard himself and +to be regarded by others as a free lance. Later, however, as Mandy's +preference for a walk through the woods became more marked, Perkins, +much to his disgust, found himself reduced to the attitude of a +suppliant, urging the superior attraction of a swift drive behind +Dexter as against a weary walk to the service. Mandy, however, with +the directness of her simple nature, had no compunction in frankly +maintaining her preference for a walk with Tim and Cameron through the +woods; indeed, more than once she allowed Perkins to drive off with his +fiery colt, alone in his glory. + +But this Sabbath morning, as Cameron lay under the orchard trees, he was +firmly resolved that he would give the whole day to the nursing of the +ache in his head and the painful languor in his body. And so lying he +allowed his mind to wander uncontrolled over the happenings of the past +months, troubled by a lazy consciousness of a sore spot somewhere in his +life. Gradually there grew into clearness the realisation of the cause +of this sore spot. + +"What is the matter with Perkins?" he asked of Tim, who had declined +to go to church, and who had strolled into the orchard to be near his +friend. + +"What is the matter with Perkins?" Cameron asked a second time, for Tim +was apparently too much engaged with a late harvest apple to answer. + +"How?" said the boy at length. + +"He is so infernally grumpy with me." + +"Grumpy? He's sore, I guess." + +"Sore?" + +"You bet! Ever since I beat him in the turnips that day." + +"Ever since YOU beat him?" asked Cameron in amazement. "Why should he be +sore against me?" + +"He knows it was you done it," said Tim. + +"Nonsense, Tim! Besides, Perkins isn't a baby. He surely doesn't hold +that against me." + +"Huh, huh," said Tim, "everybody's pokin' fun at him, and he hates that, +and ever since the picnic, too, he hates you." + +"But why in the world?" + +"Oh, shucks!" said Tim, impatient at Cameron's density. "I guess you +know all right." + +"Know? Not I!" + +"Git out?" + +"Honor bright, Tim," replied Cameron, sitting up. "Now, honestly, tell +me, Tim, why in the world Perkins should hate me." + +"You put his nose out of joint, I guess," said Tim with a grin. + +"Oh, rot, Tim! How?" + +"Every how," said Tim, proceeding to elaborate. "First when you came +here you were no good--I mean--" Tim checked himself hastily. + +"I know what you mean, Tim. Go on. You are quite right. I couldn't do +anything on the farm." + +"Now," continued Tim, "you can do anything jist as good as him--except +bindin', of course. He's a terror at bindin', but at pitchin' and +shockin' and loadin' you're jist as good." + +"But, Tim, that's all nonsense. Perkins isn't such a fool as to hate me +because I can keep up my end." + +"He don't like you," said Tim stubbornly. + +"But why? Why in the name of common sense?" + +"Well," said Tim, summing up the situation, "before you come he used to +be the hull thing. Now he's got to play second fiddle." + +But Cameron remained unenlightened. + +"Oh, pshaw!" continued Tim, making further concessions to his +friend's stupidity. "At the dances, at the raisin's, runnin', +jumpin'--everythin'--Perkins used to be the King Bee. Now--" Tim's +silence furnished an impressive close to the contrast. "Why! They all +think you are just fine!" said Tim, with a sudden burst of confidence. + +"They?" + +"All the boys. Yes, and the girls, too," said Tim, allowing his solemn +face the unusual luxury of a smile. + +"The girls?" + +"Aw, yeh know well enough--the Murray girls, and the MacKenzies, and the +hull lot of them. And then--and then--there's Mandy, too." Here Tim shot +a keen glance at his friend, who now sat leaning against the trunk of an +apple tree with his eyes closed. + +"Now, Tim, you are a shrewd little chap"--here Cameron sat upright--"but +how do you know about the girls, and what is this you say about Mandy? +Mandy is good to me--very kind and all that, but--" + +"She used to like Perkins pretty well," said Tim, with a kind of +hesitating shyness. + +"And Perkins?" + +"Oh, he thought he jist owned her. Guess he ain't so sure now," added +Tim. "I guess you've changed Mandy all right." + +It was the one thing Cameron hated to hear, but he made light of it. + +"Oh, nonsense!" he exclaimed. "But if I did I would be mighty glad of +it. Mandy is too good for a man like Perkins. Why, he isn't safe." + +"He's a terror," replied Tim seriously. "They are all scairt of him. +He's a terror to fight. Why, at MacKenzie's raisin' last year he jist +went round foamin' like an old boar and nobody dast say a word to him. +Even Mack Murray was scairt to touch him. When he gets like that he +ain't afraid of nothin' and he's awful quick and strong." + +Tim proceeded to enlarge upon this theme, which apparently fascinated +him, with tales of Perkins' prowess in rough-and-tumble fighting. But +Cameron had lost interest and was lying down again with his eyes closed. + +"Well," he said, when Tim had finished his recital, "if he is that kind +of a man Mandy should have nothing to do with him." + +But Tim was troubled. + +"Dad likes him," he said gloomily. "He is a good hand. And ma likes him, +too. He taffies her up." + +"And Mandy?" enquired Cameron. + +"I don't know," said Tim, still more gloomy. "I guess he kind of makes +her. I'd--I'd jist like to take a lump out of him." Tim's eyes blazed +into a sudden fire. "He runs things on this farm altogether too much." + +"Buck up then, Tim, and beat him," said Cameron, dismissing the subject. +"And now I must have some sleep. I have got an awful head on." + +Tim was quick enough to understand the hint, but still he hovered about. + +"Say, I'm awful sorry," he said. "Can't I git somethin'? You didn't eat +no breakfast." + +"Oh, all I want is sleep, Tim. I will be all right tomorrow," replied +Cameron, touched by the tone of sympathy in Tim's voice. "You are a fine +little chap. Trot along and let me sleep." + +But no sleep came to Cameron, partly because of the hammer knocking in +his head, but chiefly because of the thoughts set going by Tim. Cameron +was not abnormally egotistical, but he was delightedly aware of the new +place he held in the community ever since the now famous Dominion Day +picnic, and, now that the harvest rush had somewhat slackened, social +engagements had begun to crowd upon him. Dances and frolics, coon hunts +and raisings were becoming the vogue throughout the community, and no +social function was complete without the presence of Cameron. But +this sudden popularity had its embarrassments, and among them, and +threatening to become annoying, was the hostility of Perkins, veiled as +yet, but none the less real. Moreover, behind Perkins stood a band of +young fellows of whom he was the recognised leader and over whom his +ability in the various arts and crafts of the farm, his physical prowess +in sports, his gay, cheery manner, and, it must be said, the reputation +he bore for a certain fierce brute courage in rough-and-tumble fighting, +gave him a sort of ascendency. + +But Perkins' attitude towards him did not after all cause Cameron much +concern. There was another and more annoying cause of embarrassment, and +that was Mandy. Tim's words kept reiterating themselves in his brain, +"You've changed Mandy all right." Over this declaration of Tim's, +Cameron proceeded to argue with himself. He sat bolt upright that he +might face himself on the matter. + +"Now, then," he said to himself, "let's have this thing out." + +"Most willingly. This girl was on the way to engagement to this young +man Perkins. You come on the scene. Everything is changed." + +"Well! What of it? It's a mighty good thing for her." + +"But you are the cause of it." + +"The occasion, rather." + +"No, the cause. You have attracted her to you." + +"I can't help that. Besides, it is a mere passing whim. She'll get over +all that?" And Cameron laughed scornfully in his own face. + +"Do you know that? And how do you know it? Tim thinks differently." + +"Oh, confound it all! I see that I shall have to get out of here." + +"A wise decision truly, and the sooner the better. Do you propose to go +at once?" + +"At once? Well, I should like to spend the winter here. I have made a +number of friends and life is beginning to be pleasant." + +"Exactly! It suits your convenience, but how about Mandy?" + +"Oh, rubbish! Must I be governed by the fancies of that silly girl? +Besides, the whole thing is absurdly ridiculous." + +"But facts are stubborn, and anyone can see that the girl is--" + +"Hang it all! I'll go at the end of the month." + +"Very well. And in the leave-taking--?" + +"What?" + +"It is pleasant to be appreciated and to carry away with one memories, I +will not say tender, but appreciative." + +"I can't act like a boor. I must be decent to the girl. Besides, she +isn't altogether a fool." + +"No, but very crude, very primitive, very passionate, and therefore very +defenseless." + +"All right, I shall simply shake hands and go." + +So, with the consequent sense of relief that high resolve always brings, +Cameron lay down again and fell into slumber and dreams of home. + +From these dreams of home Mandy recalled him with a summons to dinner. +As his eye, still filled with the vision of his dreams, fell upon her +in all the gorgeous splendour of her Sunday dress, he was conscious of +a strong sense of repulsion. How coarse, how crude, how vulgar she +appeared, how horribly out of keeping with those scenes through which he +had just been wandering in his dreams. + +"I want no dinner, Mandy," he said shortly. "I have a bad head and I am +not hungry." + +"No dinner?" That a man should not want dinner was to Mandy quite +inexplicable, unless, indeed, he were ill. + +"Are you sick?" she cried in quick alarm. + +"No, I have a headache. It will pass away," said Cameron, turning over +on his side. Still Mandy lingered. + +"Let me bring you a nice piece of pie and a cup of tea." + +Cameron shuddered. + +"No," he said, "bring me nothing. I merely wish to sleep." + +But Mandy refused to be driven away. + +"Say, I'm awful sorry. I know you're sick." + +"Nonsense!" said Cameron, impatiently, waiting for her to be gone. Still +Mandy hesitated. + +"I'm awful sorry," she said again, and her voice, deep, tender, +full-toned, revealed her emotion. + +Cameron turned impatiently towards her. + +"Look here, Mandy! There's nothing wrong with me. I only want a little +sleep. I shall be all right to-morrow." + +But Mandy's fears were not to be allayed. + +"Say," she cried, "you look awful bad." + +"Oh, get out, Mandy! Go and get your dinner. Don't mind me." Cameron's +tone was decidedly cross. + +Without further remonstrance Mandy turned silently away, but before she +turned Cameron caught the gleam of tears in the great blue eyes. A swift +compunction seized him. + +"I say, Mandy, I don't want to be rude, but--" + +"Rude?" cried the girl. "You? You couldn't be. You are always good--to +me--and--I--don't--know--" Here her voice broke. + +"Oh, come, Mandy, get away to dinner. You are a good girl. Now leave me +alone." + +The kindness in his voice quite broke down Mandy's all too slight +control. She turned away, audibly sniffling, with her apron to her eyes, +leaving Cameron in a state of wrathful perplexity. + +"Oh, confound it all!" he groaned to himself. "This is a rotten go. By +Jove! This means the West for me. The West! After all, that's the place. +Here there is no chance anyway. Why did I not go sooner?" + +He rose from the grass, shivering with a sudden chill, went to his bed +in the hay mow, and, covering himself with Tim's blankets and his own, +fell again into sleep. Here, late in the afternoon, Tim found him and +called him to supper. + +With Mandy's watchful eye upon him he went through the form of eating, +but Mandy was not to be deceived. + +"You ain't eatin' nothin'," she said reproachfully as he rose from the +table. + +"Enough for a man who is doing nothing," replied Cameron. "What I want +is exercise. I think I shall take a walk." + +"Going to church?" she enquired, an eager light springing into her eye. + +"To church? I hadn't thought of it," replied Cameron, but, catching +the gleam of a smile on Perkins' face and noting the utterly woebegone +expression on Mandy's, he added, "Well, I might as well walk to church +as any place else. You are going, Tim?" + +"Huh huh!" replied Tim. + +"I am going to hitch up Deck, Mandy," said Perkins. + +"Oh, I'm goin' to walk!" said Mandy, emphatically. + +"All right!" said Perkins. "Guess I'll walk too with the crowd." + +"Don't mind me," said Mandy. + +"I don't," laughed Perkins, "you bet! Nor anybody else." + +"And that's no lie!" sniffed Mandy, with a toss of her head. + +"Better drive to church, Mandy," suggested her mother. "You know you're +jist tired out and it will be late when you get started." + +"Tired? Late?" cried Mandy, with alacrity. "I'll be through them dishes +in a jiffy and be ready in no time. I like the walk through the woods." + +"Depends on the company," laughed Perkins again. "So do I. Guess we'll +all go together." + +True to her promise, Mandy was ready within half an hour. Cameron +shuddered as he beheld the bewildering variety of colour in her attire +and the still more bewildering arrangement of hat and hair. + +"You're good and gay, Mandy," said Perkins. "What's the killing?" + +Mandy made no reply save by a disdainful flirt of her skirts as she set +off down the lane, followed by Perkins, Cameron and Tim bringing up the +rear. + +The lane was a grassy sward, cut with two wagon-wheel tracks, and with +a picturesque snake fence on either side. Beyond the fences lay the +fields, some of them with stubble raked clean, the next year's clover +showing green above the yellow, some with the grain standing still in +the shock, and some with the crop, the late oats for instance, still +uncut, but ready for the reaper. The turnip field was splendidly and +luxuriantly green with never a sign of the brown earth. The hay meadow, +too, was green and purple with the second growth of clover. + +So down the lane and between the shorn fields, yellow and green, between +the clover fields and the turnips, they walked in silence, for the +spell of the Sabbath evening lay upon the sunny fields, barred with the +shadows from the trees that grew along the fence lines everywhere. +At the "slashing" the wagon ruts faded out and the road narrowed to a +single cow path, winding its way between stumps and round log piles, +half hidden by a luxuriant growth of foxglove and fireweed and asters, +and everywhere the glorious goldenrod. Then through the bars the path +led into the woods, a noble remnant of the beech and elm and maple +forest from which the farm had been cut some sixty years before. Cool +and shadowy they stood, and shot through with bright shafts of gold from +the westering sun, full of mysterious silence except for the twittering +of the sleepy birds or for the remonstrant call of the sentinel crow +from his watch tower on the dead top of a great elm. Deeper into the +shade the path ran until in the gloom it faded almost out of sight. + +Soothed by the cool shade, Cameron loitered along the path, pausing to +learn of Tim the names of plants and trees as he went. + +"Ain't yeh never comin'?" called Mandy from the gloom far in front. + +"What's all the rush?" replied Tim, impatiently, who loved nothing +better than a quiet walk with Cameron through the woods. + +"Rush? We'll be late, and I hate walkin' up before the hull crowd. Come +on!" cried his sister in impatient tone. + +"All right, Mandy, we're nearly through the woods. I begin to see +the clearing yonder," said Cameron, pointing to where the light was +beginning to show through the tree tops before them. + +But they were late enough, and Mandy was glad of the cover of the +opening hymn to allow her to find her way to a group of her girl +friends, the males of the party taking shelter with a neighbouring group +of their own sex near by. + +Upon the sloping sides of the grassy hills and under the beech and +maple trees, the vanguard of the retreating woods, sat the congregation, +facing the preacher, who stood on the grassy level below. Behind them +was the solid wall of thick woods, over them time spreading boughs, and +far above the trees the blue summer sky, all the bluer for the little +white clouds that sailed serene like ships upon a sea. At their feet lay +the open country, checkered by the snake fences into fields of yellow, +green, and brown, and rolling away to meet the woods at the horizon. + +The Sabbath rest filled the sweet air, breathed from the shady woods, +rested upon the checkered fields, and lifted with the hymn to the blue +heaven above. A stately cathedral it was, this place of worship, filled +with the incense of flowers and fields, arched by the high dome of +heaven, and lighted by the glory of the setting sun. + +Relieved by the walk for a time from the ache in his head, Cameron +surrendered himself to the mysterious influences of the place and +the hour. He let his eyes wander over the fields below him to the far +horizon, and beyond--beyond the woods, beyond the intervening leagues +of land and sea--and was again gazing upon the sunlit loveliness of the +Cuagh Oir. The Glen was abrim with golden light this summer evening, +the purple was on the hills and the little loch gleamed sapphire at the +bottom. + +The preacher was reading his text. + +"Unto one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to every +man according to his several ability, and straightway took his journey," +and so on to the end of that marvellously wise tale, wise with the +wisdom of God, confirmed by the wisdom of human experience. + +The Reverend Harper Freeman's voice could hardly, even by courtesy, be +called musical; in fact, it was harsh and strident; but this evening +the hills, and the trees, and the wide open spaces, Nature's mighty +modulator, subdued the harshness, so that the voice rolled up to the +people clear, full, and sonorous. Nor was the preacher possessed of +great learning nor endued with the gift of eloquence. He had, however, a +shrewd knowledge of his people and of their ways and of their needs, and +he had a kindly heart, and, more than all, he had the preacher's gift, +the divine capacity for taking fire. + +For a time his words fell unheeded upon Cameron's outer ear. + +"To every man his own endowments, some great, some small, but, mark you, +no man left quite poverty-stricken. God gives every man his chance. No +man can look God in the face, not one of you here can say that you have +had no chance." + +Cameron's vagrant mind, suddenly recalled, responded with a quick +assent. Opportunity? Endowment? Yes, surely. His mind flashed back over +the years of his education at the Academy and the University, long lazy +years. How little he had made of them! Others had turned them into the +gold of success. He wondered how old Dunn was getting on, and Linklater, +and little Martin. How far away seemed those days, and yet only some +four or five months separated him from them. + +"One was a failure, a dead, flat failure," continued the preacher. +"Not so much a wicked man, no murderer, no drunkard, no gambler, but a +miserable failure. Poor fellow! At the end of life a wretched bankrupt, +losing even his original endowment. How would you like to come home +after ten, twenty, thirty years of experiment with life and confess to +your father that you were dead broke and no good?" + +Again Cameron's mind came back from its wandering with a start. Go back +to his father a failure! He drew his lip down hard over his teeth. Not +while he lived! And yet, what was there in prospect for him? His whole +soul revolted against the dreary monotony and the narrowness of his +present life, and yet, what other path lay open? Cameron went straying +in fancy over the past, or in excursions into the future, while, +parallel with his rambling, the sermon continued to make its way through +its various heads and particulars. + +"Why?" The voice of the preacher rose clear, dominant, arresting. "Why +did he fail so abjectly, so meanly, so despicably? For there is no +excuse for a failure. Listen! No man NEED fail. A man who is a failure +is a mean, selfish, lazy chump." Mr. Freeman was colloquial, if +anything. "Some men pity him. I don't. I have no use for him, and he is +the one thing in all the world that God himself has no use for." + +Again Cameron's mind was jerked back as a runaway horse by a rein. So +far his life had been a failure. Was there then no excuse for failure? +What of his upbringing, his education, his environment? He had been +indulging the habit during these last weeks of shifting responsibility +from himself for what he had become. + +"What was the cause of this young man's failure?" reiterated the +preacher. The preacher had a wholesome belief in the value of +reiteration. He had a habit of rubbing in his points. "He blamed the +boss. Listen to his impudence! 'I knew thee to be a hard man.' He blamed +his own temperament and disposition. 'I was afraid.' But the boss brings +him up sharp and short. 'Quit lying!' he said. 'I'll tell you what's +wrong with you. You've got a mean heart, you ain't honest, and you're +too lazy to live. Here, take that money from him and give it to the man +that can do most with it, and take this useless loafer out of my sight.' +And served him right, too, say I, impudent, lazy liar." + +Cameron found his mind rising in wrathful defense of the unhappy +wretched failure in the story. But the preacher was utterly relentless +and proceeded to enlarge upon the character of the unhappy wretch. + +"Impudent! The way to tell an impudent man is to let him talk. Now +listen to this man cheek the boss! 'I knew you,' he said. 'You skin +everybody in sight.' I have always noticed," remarked the preacher, with +a twinkle in his eye, "that the hired man who can't keep up his end is +the kind that cheeks the boss. And so it is with life. Why, some men +would cheek Almighty God. They turn right round and face the other way +when God is explaining things to them, when He is persuading them, when +He is trying to help them. Then they glance back over their shoulders +and say, 'Aw, gwan! I know better than you.' Think of the impudence of +them! That's what many a man does with God. With GOD, mind you! GOD! +Your Father in heaven, your Brother, your Saviour, God as you know him +in the Man of Galilee, the Man you always see with the sick and the +outcast and the broken-hearted. It is this God that owns you and all +you've got--be honest and say so. You must begin by getting right with +God." + +"God!" Once more Cameron went wandering back into the far away days +of childhood. God was very near then, and very friendly. How well he +remembered when his mother had tucked him in at night and had kissed him +and had put out the light. He never felt alone and afraid, for she left +him, so she said, with God. It was God who took his mother's place, near +to his bedside. In those days God seemed very near and very kind. He +remembered his mother's look one day when he declared to her that he +could hear God breathing just beside him in the dark. How remote +God seemed to-day and how shadowy, and, yes, he had to confess it, +unfriendly. He heard no more of the sermon. With a curious ache in his +heart he allowed his mind to dwell amid those happy, happy memories when +his mother and God were the nearest and dearest to him of all he knew. +It may have been the ache in his head or the oppressive languor that +seemed to possess his body, but throughout the prayer that followed +the sermon he was conscious chiefly of a great longing for his mother's +touch upon his head, and with that a longing for his boyhood's sense of +the friendly God in his heart. + +And so as the preacher led them up to God in prayer, Cameron bowed his +head with the others, thankful that he could still believe that, though +clouds and darkness might be about Him, God was not beyond the reach of +the soul's cry nor quite unmoved by human need. And for the first time +for years he sent forth as a little child his cry of need, "God help me! +God help me!" + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE CHIVAREE + + +There was still light enough to see. The last hymn was announced. +Cameron was conscious of a deep, poignant emotion. He glanced swiftly +about him. The eyes of all were upon the preacher's face while he read +in slow sonorous tones the words of the old Methodist hymn: + + "Come, Thou Fount of every blessing! + Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;" + +all except the group of young men of whom Perkins was the centre, who, +by means of the saccharine medium known as conversation lozenges, were +seeking to divert the attention of the band of young girls sitting +before them. Among these sat Mandy. As his eye rested upon the billowy +outlines of her figure, struggling with the limitations of her white +blouse, tricked out with pink ribbons, he was conscious of a wave of +mingled pity and disgust. Dull, stupid, and vulgar she looked. It was at +her that Perkins was flipping his conversation lozenges. One fell +upon her hymn book. With a start she glanced about. Not an eye except +Cameron's was turned her way. With a smile and a blush that burned deep +under the dull tan of her neck and cheek she took the lozenge, read its +inscription, burning a deeper red. The words which she had read she +took as Cameron's. She turned her eyes full upon his face. The light +of tremulous joy in their lovely depths startled and thrilled him. +A snicker from the group of young men behind roused in him a deep +indignation. They were taking their coarse fun out of this simple-minded +girl. Cameron's furious glance at them appeared only to increase their +amusement. It did not lessen Cameron's embarrassment and rage that now +and then during the reading of the hymn Mandy's eyes were turned upon +him as if with new understanding. Enraged with himself, and more with +the group of hoodlums behind him, Cameron stood for the closing hymn +with his arms folded across his breast. At the second verse a hand +touched his arm. It was Mandy offering him her book. Once more a snicker +from the group of delighted observers behind him stirred his indignation +on behalf of this awkward and untutored girl. He forced himself to +listen to the words of the third verse, which rose clear and sonorous in +the preacher's voice: + + "Here I raise my Ebenezer, + Hither by Thy help I'm come; + And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, + Safely to arrive at home." + +The serene assurance of the old Methodist hymn rose triumphant in the +singing, an assurance born of an experience of past conflict ending +in triumph. That note of high and serene confidence conjured up with +a flash of memory his mother's face. That was her characteristic, a +serene, undismayed courage. In the darkest hours that steady flame of +courage never died down. + +But once more he was recalled to the service of the hour by a voice, +rich, full, low, yet of wonderful power, singing the old words. It took +him a moment or two to discover that it was Mandy singing beside him. +Her face was turned from him and upwards towards the trees above her, +through the network of whose leaves the stars were beginning to shine. +Amazed, enthralled, he listened to the flowing melody of her voice. +It was like the song of a brook running deep in the forest shade, +full-toned yet soft, quiet yet thrilling. She seemed to have forgotten +her surroundings. Her soul was holding converse with the Eternal. He +lost sight of the coarse and fleshly habiliments in the glimpse he +caught of the soul that lived within, pure, it seemed to him, tender, +and good. His heart went out to the girl in a new pity. Before the hymn +was done she turned her face towards him, and, whether it was the magic +of her voice, or the glorious splendour of her eyes, or the mystic touch +of the fast darkening night, her face seemed to have lost much of its +coarseness and all of its stupidity. + +As the congregation dispersed, Cameron, in silence, and with the spell +of her voice still upon him, walked quietly beside Mandy towards the gap +in the fence leading to the high road. Behind him came Perkins with his +group of friends, chaffing with each other and with the girls walking +in front of them. As Cameron was stepping over the rails where the +fence had been let down, one of the young men following stumbled heavily +against him, nearly throwing him down, and before he could recover +himself Perkins had taken his place by Mandy's side and seized her arm. +There was a general laugh at what was considered a perfectly fair and +not unusual piece of jockeying in the squiring of young damsels. The +proper procedure in such a case was that the discomfited cavalier should +bide his time and serve a like turn upon his rival, the young lady +meanwhile maintaining an attitude purely passive. But Mandy was not so +minded. Releasing herself from Perkins' grasp, she turned upon the group +of young men following, exclaiming angrily, "You ought to be ashamed +of yourself, Sam Sailor!" Then, moving to Cameron's side, she said in a +clear, distinct voice: + +"Mr. Cameron, would you please take my book for me?" + +"Come on, boys!" said Perkins, with his never failing laugh. "I guess +we're not in this." + +"Take your medicine, Perkins," laughed one of his friends. + +"Yes, I'll take it all right," replied Perkins. But the laugh could not +conceal the shake of passion in his voice. "It will work, too, you bet!" + +So saying, he strode off into the gathering gloom followed by his +friends. + +"Come along, Mr. Cameron," said Mandy with a silly giggle. "I guess we +don't need them fellows. They can't fool us, can they?" + +Her manner, her speech, her laugh rudely dissipated all Cameron's new +feeling towards her. The whole episode filled him only with disgust and +annoyance. + +"Come, then," he said, almost roughly. "We shall need to hurry, for +there is a storm coming up." + +Mandy glanced at the gathering clouds. + +"My goodness!" she cried; "it's comin' up fast. My! I hate to git my +clothes wet." And off she set at a rapid pace, keeping abreast of +her companion and making gay but elephantine attempts at sprightly +conversation. Before Cameron's unsympathetic silence, however, all her +sprightly attempts came to abject failure. + +"What's the matter with you?" at length she asked. "Don't you want to +see me home?" + +"What?" said Cameron, abruptly, for his thoughts were far away. "Oh, +nonsense! Of course! Why not? But we shall certainly be caught in the +storm. Let us hurry. Here, let me take your arm." + +His manner was brusque, almost rude. + +"Oh, I guess I can get along," replied Mandy, catching off her hat and +gathering up her skirt over her shoulders, "but we'll have to hustle, +for I'd hate to have you get, wet." Her imperturbable good humour and +her solicitude for him rebuked Cameron for his abruptness. + +"I hope you will not get wet," he said. + +"Oh, don't you worry about me. I ain't salt nor sugar, but I forgot +all about your bein' sick." And with laboured breath poor Mandy hurried +through the growing darkness with Cameron keeping close by her side. +"We won't be long now," she panted, as they turned from the side line +towards their own gate. + +As if in reply to her words there sounded from behind the fence and +close to their side a long loud howl. Cameron gave a start. + +"Great Caesar! What dog is that?" he exclaimed. + +"Oh," said Mandy coolly, "guess it's MacKenzie's Carlo." + +Immediately there rose from the fence on the other side an answering +howl, followed by a full chorus of howls and yelps mingled with a +bawling of calves and the ringing of cow bells, as if a dozen curs or +more were in full cry after a herd of cattle. Cameron stood still in +bewildered amazement. + +"What the deuce are they at?" he cried, peering through the darkness. + +"Huh!" grunted Mandy. "Them's curs all right, but they ain't much dog. +You wait till I see them fellows. They'll pay for this, you bet!" + +"Do you mean to say these are not dogs?" cried Cameron, speaking in her +ear, so great was the din. + +"Dogs?" answered Mandy with indignant scorn. "Naw! Just or'nary curs! +Come along," she cried, catching his arm, "let's hurry." + +"Here!" he cried, suddenly wrenching himself free, "I am going to see +into this." + +"No, no!" cried Mandy, gripping his arm once more with her strong hands. +"They will hurt you. Come on! We're just home. You can see them again. +No, I won't let you go." + +In vain he struggled. Her strong hands held him fast. Suddenly there was +a succession of short, sharp barks. Immediately dead silence fell. Not a +sound could be heard, not a shape seen. + +"Come out into the open, you cowardly curs!" shouted Cameron. "Come on! +One, two, three at a time, if you dare!" + +But silence answered him. + +"Come," said Mandy in a low voice, "let's hurry. It's goin' to rain. +Come on! Come along!" + +Cameron stood irresolute. Then arose out of the black darkness a long +quavering cat call. With a sudden dash Cameron sprang towards the fence. +Instantly there was a sound of running feet through the plowed field on +the other side, then silence. + +"Come back, you cowards!" raged Cameron. "Isn't there a man among you?" + +For answer a clod came hurtling through the dark and struck with a thud +upon the fence. Immediately, as if at a signal, there fell about Cameron +a perfect hail of clods and even stones. + +"Oh! Oh!" shrieked Mandy, rushing towards him and throwing herself +between him and the falling missiles. "Come away! Come away! They'll +just kill you." + +For answer Cameron put his arms about her and drew her behind him, +shielding her as best he could with his body. + +"Do you want to kill a woman?" he called aloud. + +At once the hail of clods ceased and, raging as he was, Mandy dragged +him homeward. At the door of the house he made to turn back. + +"Not much, you don't," said Mandy, stoutly, "or I go with you." + +"Oh, all right," said Cameron, "let them go. They are only a lot of +curs, anyway." + +For a few minutes they stood and talked in the kitchen, Cameron making +light of the incident and making strenuous efforts to dissemble the rage +that filled his soul. After a few minutes conversation Cameron announced +his intention of going to bed, while Mandy passed upstairs. He left the +house and stole down the lane toward the road. The throbbing pain in his +head was forgotten in the blind rage that possessed him. He had only one +longing, to stand within striking distance of the cowardly curs, only +one fear, that they should escape him. Swiftly, silently, he stole down +the lane, every nerve, every muscle tense as a steel spring. His throat +was hot, his eyes so dazzled that he could scarcely see; his breath came +in quick gasps; his hands were trembling as with a nervous chill. The +storm had partially blown away. It had become so light that he could +dimly discern a number of figures at the entrance to the lane. Having +his quarry in sight, Cameron crouched in the fence corner, holding hard +by the rail till he should become master of himself. He could hear their +explosions of suppressed laughter. It was some minutes before he had +himself in hand, then with a swift silent run he stood among them. +So busy were they in recounting the various incidents in the recent +"chivaree," that before they were aware Cameron was upon them. At his +approach the circle broke and scattered, some flying to the fence. But +Perkins with some others stood their ground. + +"Hello, Cameron!" drawled Perkins. "Did you see our cows? I thought I +heard some of them down the line." + +For answer Cameron launched himself at him like a bolt from a bow. There +was a single sharp crack and Perkins was literally lifted clear off his +feet and hurled back upon the road, where he lay still. Fiercely Cameron +faced round to the next man, but he gave back quickly. A third sprang +to throw himself upon Cameron, but once more Cameron's hand shot forward +and his assailant was hurled back heavily into the arms of his friends. +Before Cameron could strike again a young giant, known as Sam Sailor, +flung his arms about him, crying-- + +"Tut-tut, young fellow, this won't do, you know. Can't you take a bit of +fun?" + +For answer Cameron clinched him savagely, gripping him by the throat and +planting two heavy blows upon his ribs. + +"Here--boys," gasped the young fellow, +"he's--chokin'--the--life--out--of me." + +From all sides they threw themselves upon him and, striking, kicking, +fighting furiously, Cameron went down under the struggling mass, his +hand still gripping the throat it had seized. + +"Say! He's a regular bull-dog," cried one. "Git hold of his legs and +yank him off," which, with shouts and laughter, they proceeded to do and +piled themselves upon him, chanting the refrain--"More beef! More beef!" + +A few minutes more of frantic struggling and a wild agonised scream rose +from beneath the mass of men. + +"Git off, boys! Git off!" roared the young giant. "I'm afraid he's +hurt." + +Flinging them off on either side, he stood up and waited for their +victim to rise. But Cameron lay on his face, moaning and writhing, on +the ground. + +"Say, boys," said Sam, kneeling down beside him, "I'm afraid he's hurted +bad." + +In his writhing Cameron lifted one leg. It toppled over to one side. + +"Jumpin' Jeremiah!" said Sam in an awed voice. "His leg's broke! What in +Sam Hill can we do?" + +As he spoke there was a sound of running feet, coming down the lane. +The moon, shining through the breaking clouds, revealed a figure with +floating garments rapidly approaching. + +"My cats!" cried Sam in a terrified voice. "It's Mandy." + +Like leaves before a sudden gust of wind the group scattered and only +Sam was left. + +"What--what are you doin'?" panted Mandy. "Where is he? Oh, is that +him?" She flung herself down in the dust beside Cameron and turned him +over. His face was white, his eyes glazed. He looked like death. "Oh! +Oh!" she moaned. "Have they killed you? Have they killed you?" She +gathered his head upon her knees, moaning like a wounded animal. + +"Good Lord, Mandy, don't go on like that!" cried Sam in a horrified +voice. "It's only his leg broke." + +Mandy laid his head gently down, then sprang to her feet. + +"Only his leg broke? Who done it? Who done it, tell me? Who done it?" +she panted, her voice rising with her gasping breath. "What coward done +it? Was it you, Sam Sailor?" + +"Guess we're all in it," said Sam stupidly. "It was jist a bit of fun, +Mandy." + +For answer she swung her heavy hand hard upon Sam's face. + +"Say, Mandy! Hold hard!" cried Sam, surprise and the weight of the blow +almost knocking him off his feet. + +"You cowardly brute!" she gasped. "Get out of my sight. Oh, what shall +we do?" She dropped on her knees and took Cameron's head once more in +her arms. "What shall we do?" + +"Guess we'll have to git him in somewheres," said Sam. "How can we carry +him though? If we had some kind of a stretcher?" + +"Wait! I know," cried Mandy, flying off up the lane. + +Before many minutes had passed she had returned, breathing hard. + +"It's--the---milkhouse--door," she said. "I--guess that'll--do." + +"That'll do all right, Mandy. Now I wish some of them fellers would +come." + +Sam pulled off his coat and made of it a pillow, then stood up looking +for help. His eye fell upon the prostrate and senseless form of Perkins. + +"Say, what'll we do with him?" he said, pointing to the silent figure. + +"Who is it?" enquired Mandy. "What's the matter?" + +"It's Perkins," replied Sam. "He hit him a terrible crack." + +"Perkins!" said Mandy with scorn. "Let him lie, the dog. Come on, take +his head." + +"You can't do it, Mandy, no use trying. You can't do it." + +"Come on, I tell you," she said fiercely. "Quit your jawin'. He may be +dyin' for all I know. I'd carry him alone if it wasn't for his broken +leg." Slowly, painfully they carried him to the house and to the front +door. + +"Wait a minute!" said Mandy. "I'll have to git things fixed a bit. We +mustn't wake mother. It would scare her to death." + +She passed quickly into the house and soon Sam saw a light pass from +room to room. In a few moments Mandy reappeared at the front door. + +"Quick!" whispered Sam. "He's comin' to." + +"Oh, thank goodness!" cried Mandy. "Let's git him in before he wakes." + +Once more they lifted their burden and with infinite difficulty and much +painful manoeuvering they got the injured man through the doors and upon +the spare room bed. + +"And now, Sam Sailor," cried Mandy, coming close to him, "you jist hitch +up Deck and hustle for the doctor if ever you did in your life. Don't +wait for nothin', but go! Go!" She fairly pushed him out of the door, +running with him towards the stable. "Oh, Sam, hurry!" she pleaded, "for +if this man should die I will never be the like again." Her face +was white, her eyes glowing like great stars; her voice was soft and +tremulous with tears. + +Sam stood for a moment gazing as if upon a vision. + +"What are you lookin' at?" she cried, stamping her foot and pushing him +away. + +"Jumpin' Jeremiah!" muttered Sam, as he ran towards the stable. "Is that +Mandy Haley? Guess we don't know much about her." + +His nimble fingers soon had Dexter hitched to the buggy and speeding +down the lane at a pace sufficiently rapid to suit the high spirit of +even that fiery young colt. + +At the high road he came upon his friends, some of whom were working +with Perkins, others conversing in awed and hurried undertones. + +"Hello, Sam!" they called. "Hold up!" + +"I'm in a hurry, boys, don't stop me. I'm scared to death. And you +better git home. She'll be down on you again." + +"How is he?" cried a voice. + +"Don't know. I'm goin' for the doctor, and the sooner we git that doctor +the better for everybody around." And Sam disappeared in a whirl of +dust. + +"Say! Who would a thought it?" he mused. "That Mandy Haley? She's a +terror. And them eyes! Oh, git on, Deck, what you monkeyin' about? +Wonder if she's gone on that young feller? I guess she is all right! +Say, wasn't that a clout he handed Perkins. And didn't she give me one. +But them eyes! Mandy Haley! By the jumpin' Jeremiah! And the way she +looks at a feller! Here, Deck, what you foolin' about? Gwan now, or +you'll git into trouble." + +Deck, who had been indulging himself in a series of leaps and plunges, +shying at even the most familiar objects by the road side, settled down +at length to a businesslike trot which brought him to the doctor's door +in about fifteen minutes from the Haleys' gate. But to Sam's dismay the +doctor had gone to Cramm's Mill, six or seven miles away, and would +not be back till the morning. Sam was in a quandary. There was another +doctor at Brookfield, five miles further on, but there was a possibility +that he also might be out. + +"Say, there ain't no use goin' back without a doctor. +She'd--she'd--Jumpin' Jeremiah! What would she do? Say, Deck, you've +got to git down to business. We're goin' to the city. There are doctors +there thick as hair on a dog. We'll try Dr. Turnbull. Say, it'll be +great if we could git him! Deck, we'll do it! But you got to git up and +dust." + +And this Deck proceeded to do to such good purpose that in about an +hour's time he stood before Dr. Turnbull's door in the city, somewhat +wet, it is true, but with his fiery spirit still untamed. + +Here again adverse fate met the unfortunate Sam. + +"Doctor Turnbull's no at home," said the maid, smart with cap and apron, +who opened the door. + +"How long will he be gone?" enquired Sam, wondering what she had on her +head, and why. + +"There's no tellin'. An hour, or two hours, or three." + +"Three hours?" echoed Sam. "Say, a feller might kick the bucket in that +time." + +The maid smiled an undisturbed smile. + +"Bucket? What bucket, eh? What bucket are ye talkin' aboot?" she +enquired. + +"Say, you're smart, ain't yeh! But I got a young feller that's broke his +leg and--" + +"His leg?" said the maid indifferently. "Well, he's got another?" + +"Yes, you bet he has, but one leg ain't much good without the other. How +would you like to hop around on one leg? And he's hurt inside, too, +his lights, I guess, and other things." Sam's anatomical knowledge was +somewhat vague. "And besides, his girl's takin' on awful." + +"Oh, is she indeed?" replied the maid, this item apparently being to her +of the very slightest importance. + +"Say, if you only saw her," said Sam. + +"Pretty, I suppose," said the maid with a touch of scorn. + +"Pretty? No, ugly as a hedge fence. But say, I wish she was here right +now. She'd bring you to your--to time, you bet." + +"Would she, now? I'd sort her." And the little maid's black eyes +snapped. + +"Say, what'll I do? Jist got to have a doctor." + +"Ye'll no git him till to-morrow." + +"To-morrow?" + +"How far oot are ye?" + +"Twelve miles." + +"Twelve miles? Ye'll no get him a minute afore to-morrow noon." + +"Say, that young feller'll croak, sure. Away from home too. No friends. +All his folks in Scotland." + +"Scotland, did ye say?" Something appeared to wake up in the little +maid. "Look here, why don't ye get a doctor instead o' daunderin' your +time here?" + +"Git a doctor?" echoed Sam in vast surprise. "And ain't I tryin' to git +a doctor? Where'll I git a doctor?" + +"Go to the hospital, ye gawk, and ask for Dr. Turnbull, and tell him +the young lad is a stranger and that his folk are in Scotland. Hoots, ye +gomeril, be off noo, an' the puir lad wantin' ye. Come, I'll pit ye on +yer way." The maid by her speech was obviously excited. + +Sam glanced at the clock as he passed out. He had been away an hour and +a half. + +"Jumpin' Jeremiah! I've got to hurry. She'll take my head off." + +"Of course ye have," said the maid sharply. "Go down two streets there, +then take the first turn to your left and go straight on for half a +dozen blocks or so. Mind ye tell the doctor the lad's frae Scotland!" +she cried to Sam as he drove off. + +At the hospital Sam was fortunate enough to catch Dr. Turnbull in the +hall with one or two others, just as they were about to pass into the +consulting room. Such was Sam's desperate state of mind that he went +straight up to the group. + +"I want Dr. Turnbull," he said. + +"There he is before you," replied a sharp-faced young doctor, pointing +to a benevolent looking old gentleman. + +"Dr. Turnbull, there's a young feller hurt dreadful out our way. His +leg's broke. Guess he's hurt inside too. And he's a stranger. His folks +are all in Scotland. Guess he's dyin', and I've got--I've got a horse +and buggy at the door. I can git you out and back in a jiffy. Say, +doctor, I'm all ready to start." + +A smile passed over the faces of the group. But Dr. Turnbull had too +long experience with desperate cases and with desperate men. + +"My dear Sir," he replied, "I cannot go for some hours." + +"Doctor, I want you now. I got to have somebody right now." + +"A broken leg?" mused the doctor. + +"Yes, and hurt inside." + +"How did it happen?" said the doctor. + +"Eh? I don't know exactly," replied Sam, taken somewhat aback. +"Somethin' fell on him. But he needs you bad." + +"I can't go, my man, but we'll find some one. What's his name did you +say?" + +"His name is Cameron, and he's from Scotland." + +"Cameron?" said the sharp-faced young doctor. "What does he look like?" + +"Look like?" said Sam in a perplexed voice. "Well, the girls all think +he looks pretty good. He's dark complected and he's a mighty smart young +feller. Great on jumpin' and runnin'. Say, he's a crackajack. Why, at +the Dominion Day picnic! But you must a' heard about him. He's the chap, +you know, that won the hundred yards. Plays the pipes and--" + +"Plays the pipes?" cried Dr. Turnbull and the young doctor together. + +"And his name's Cameron?" continued the young doctor. "I wonder now +if--" + +"I say, Martin," said Dr. Turnbull, "I think you had better go. The case +may be urgent." + +"Cameron!" cried Martin again. "I bet my bat it's--Here, wait till I get +my coat. I'll be with you in a jerk. Have you got a good horse?" + +"He's all right," said Sam. "He'll git you there in an hour." + +"An hour? How far is it?" + +"Twelve miles." + +"Great heavens! Come, then, get a move on!" And so it came that within +an hour Cameron, opening his eyes, looked up into the face of his +friend. + +"Martin! By Jove!" he said, and closed his eyes again. "Martin!" he said +again, looking upon the familiar face. "Say, old boy, is this a dream? I +seem to be having lots of them." + +"It's no dream, old chap, but what in the mischief is the matter? What +does all this fever mean? Let's look at you." + +A brief examination was enough to show the doctor that a broken leg was +the least of Cameron's trouble. A hasty investigation of the resources +of the farm house determined the doctor's course. + +"This man has typhoid fever, a bad case too," he said to Mandy. "We will +take him in to the hospital." + +"The hospital?" cried Mandy fiercely. "Will you, then?" + +"He will be a lot of trouble to you," said the doctor. + +"Trouble? Trouble? What are you talkin' about?" + +"We're awful busy, Mandy," interposed the mother, who had been roused +from her bed. + +"Oh, shucks, mother! Oh, don't send him away," she pleaded. "I can nurse +him, just as easy." She paused, with quivering lips. + +"It will be much better for the patient to be in the hospital. He will +get constant and systematic care. He will be under my own observation +every hour. I assure you it will be better for him," said the doctor. + +"Better for him?" echoed Mandy in a faint voice. "Well, let him go." + +In less than an hour's time, such was Dr. Martin's energetic promptness, +he had his patient comfortably placed in the democrat on an improvised +stretcher and on his way to the city hospital. + +And thus it came about that the problem of his leave-taking, which had +vexed Cameron for so many days, was solved. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +IN APPLE TIME + + +"Another basket of eggs, Mr. Cameron, and such delicious cream! I am +deeply grieved to see you so nearly well." + +"Grieved?" + +"For you will be leaving us of course." + +"Thanks, that is kind of you." + +"And there will be an end to eggs and cream. Ah! You are a lucky man." +And the trim, neat, bright-faced nurse shook her finger at him. + +"So I have often remarked to myself these six weeks." + +"A friend is a great discovery and by these same tokens you have found +one." + +"Truly, they have been more than kind." + +"This makes the twelfth visit in six weeks," said the nurse. "In busy +harvest and threshing time, too. Do you know what that means?" + +"To a certain extent. It is awfully good of them." + +"But she is shy, shy--and I think she is afraid of YOU. Her chief +interest appears to be in the kitchen, which she has never failed to +visit." + +The blood slowly rose in Cameron's face, from which the summer tan had +all been bleached by his six weeks' fight with fever, but he made no +reply to the brisk, sharp-eyed, sharp-minded little nurse. + +"And I know she is dying to see you, and, indeed," she chuckled, "it +might do you good. She is truly wonderful." And again the nurse laughed. +"Don't you think you could bear a visit?" The smile broadened upon her +face. + +But unaware she had touched a sensitive spot in her patient, his +Highland pride. + +"I shall be more than pleased to have an opportunity to thank Miss Haley +for her great kindness," he replied with dignity. + +"All right," replied the nurse. "I shall bring her in. Now don't excite +yourself. That fever is not so far away. And only a few minutes. When we +farmers go calling--I am a farmer, remember, and know them well--when we +go calling we take our knitting and spend the afternoon." + +In a few moments she returned with Mandy. The difference between the +stout, red-faced, coarse-featured, obtrusively healthy country girl, +heavy of foot and hand, slow of speech and awkward of manner, and +the neat, quick, deft-fingered, bright-faced nurse was so marked that +Cameron could hardly control the wave of pity that swept through his +heart, for he could see that even Mandy herself was vividly aware of the +contrast. In vain Cameron tried to put her at her ease. She simply sat +and stared, now at the walls, now at the floor, refusing for a time to +utter more than monosyllables, punctuated with giggles. + +"I want to thank you for the eggs and cream. They are fine," said +Cameron heartily. + +"Oh, pshaw, that's nothin'! Lots more where they come from," replied +Mandy with a giggle. + +"But it's a long way for you to drive; and in the busy time too." + +"Oh, we had to come in anyway for things," replied Mandy, making light +of her service. + +"You are all well?" + +"Oh, pretty middlin'. Ma ain't right smart. She's too much to do, and +that's the truth." + +"And the boys?" Cameron hesitated to be more specific. + +"Oh, there's nothin' eatin' them. I don't bother with them much." Mandy +was desperately twisting her white cotton gloves. + +At this point the nurse, with a final warning to the patient not to talk +too much and not to excite himself, left the room. In a moment Mandy's +whole manner changed. + +"Say!" she cried in a hurried voice; "Perkins is left." + +"Left?" + +"I couldn't jist stand him after--after--that night. Dad wanted him to +stay, but I couldn't jist stand him, and so he quit." + +"Quit?" + +"I jist hate him since--since--that night. When I think of what he done +I could kill him. My, I was glad to see him lyin' there in the dust!" +Mandy's words came hot and fast. "They might 'a killed you." For the +first time in the interview she looked fairly into Cameron's eyes. "My, +you do look awful!" she said, with difficulty commanding her voice. + +"Nonsense, Mandy! You see, it wasn't my leg that hurt me. It was the +fever that pulled me down." + +"Oh, I'll never forget that night!" cried Mandy, struggling to keep her +lips from quivering. + +"Nor will I ever forget what you did for me that night, Mandy. Sam told +me all about it. I shall always be your friend." + +For a moment longer she held him with her eyes. Then her face grew +suddenly pale and, with voice and hands trembling, she said: + +"I must go. Good-by." + +He took her great red hand in his long thin fingers. + +"Good-by, Mandy, and thank you." + +"My!" she said, looking down at the fingers she held in her hand. "Your +hands is awful thin. Are you sure goin' to git better?" + +"Of course I am, and I am coming out to see you before I go." + +She sat down quickly, still holding his hand, as if he had struck her a +heavy blow. + +"Before you go? Where?" Her voice was hardly above a whisper; her face +was white, her lips beyond her control. + +"Out West to seek my fortune." His voice was jaunty and he feigned not +to see her distress. "I shall be walking in a couple of weeks or so, eh, +nurse?" + +"A couple of weeks?" replied the nurse, who had just entered. "Yes, if +you are good." + +Mandy hastily rose. + +"But if you are not," continued the nurse severely, "it may be months. +Stay, Miss Haley, I am going to bring Mr. Cameron his afternoon tea and +you can have some with him. Indeed, you look quite done up. I am sure +all that work you have been telling me about is too much for you." + +Her kindly tones broke the last shred of Mandy's self-control. She sank +into her chair, covered her face with her great red hands and burst into +tempestuous weeping. Cameron sat up quickly. + +"What in the name of goodness is wrong, Mandy?" + +"Lie down at once, Mr. Cameron!" said the nurse sternly. "Hush, hush, +Miss Haley! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Don't you know that you +are hurting him?" + +She could have chosen no better word. In an instant Mandy was on her +feet, mopping off her face and choking down her sobs. + +"Ain't I a fool?" she cried angrily. "A blamed fool. Well, I won't +bother you any longer. Guess I'll go now. Good-by all." Without another +look at Cameron she was gone. + +Cameron lay back upon his pillows, white and nerveless. + +"Now can you tell me," he panted, "what's up?" + +"Search me!" said the nurse gaily, "but I forbid you to speak a single +word for half an hour. Here, drink this right off! Now, not a word! What +will Dr. Martin say? Not a word! Yes, I shall see her safely off the +place. Quiet now!" She kept up a continuous stream of sprightly chatter +to cover her own anxiety and to turn the current of her patient's +thoughts. By the time she had reached the entrance hall, however, Mandy +had vanished. + +"Great silly goose!" said the indignant nurse. "I'd see myself far +enough before I'd give myself away like that. Little fool! He'll have +a temperature sure and I will catch it. Bah! These girls! Next time she +sees him it will not be here. I hope the doctor will just give me an +hour to get him quiet again." + +But in this hope she was disappointed, for upon her return to her +patient she found Dr. Martin in the room. His face was grave. + +"What's up, nurse? What is the meaning of this rotten pulse? What has he +been having to eat?" + +"Well, Dr. Martin, I may as well confess my sins," replied the nurse, +"for there is no use trying to deceive you anyway. Mr. Cameron has had a +visitor and she has excited him." + +"Ah!" said the doctor in a relieved tone. "A visitor! A lady visitor! A +charming, sympathetic, interested, and interesting visitor." + +"Exactly!" said the nurse with a giggle. + +"It was Miss Haley, Martin," said Cameron gravely. + +The doctor looked puzzled. + +"The daughter of the farmer with whom I was working," explained Cameron. + +"Ah, I remember her," said the doctor. "And a deuce of a time I had with +her, too, getting you away from her, if I remember aright. I trust there +is nothing seriously wrong in that quarter?" said Martin with unusual +gravity. + +"Oh, quit it, Martin!" said Cameron impatiently. "Don't rag. She's an +awful decent sort. Her looks are not the best of her." + +"Ah! I am relieved to hear that," said the doctor earnestly. + +"She is very kind, indeed," said the nurse. "For these six weeks she has +fed us up with eggs and cream so that both my patient and myself have +fared sumptuously every day. Indeed, if it should continue much longer +I shall have to ask an additional allowance for a new uniform. I have +promised that Mr. Cameron shall visit the farm within two weeks if he +behaves well." + +"Exactly!" replied the doctor. "In two weeks if he is good. The only +question that troubles me is--is it quite safe? You see in his present +weak condition his susceptibility is decidedly emphasised, his resisting +power is low, and who knows what might happen, especially if she should +insist? I shall not soon forget the look in her eye when she dared me to +lay a finger upon his person." + +"Oh, cut it out, Martin!" said Cameron. "You make me weary." He lay back +on his pillow and closed his eyes. + +The nurse threw a signal to the doctor. + +"All right, old man, we must stop this chaff. Buck up and in two weeks +we will let you go where you like. I have something in mind for you, but +we won't speak of it to-day." + +The harvest was safely stored. The yellow stubble showed the fields +at rest, but the vivid green of the new fall wheat proclaimed the +astounding and familiar fact that once more Nature had begun her ancient +perennial miracle. For in those fields of vivid green the harvest of +the coming year was already on the way. On these green fields the snowy +mantle would lie soft and protecting all the long winter through and +when the spring suns would shine again the fall wheat would be a month +or more on the way towards maturity. + +Somehow the country looked more rested, fresher, cleaner to Cameron than +when he had last looked upon it in late August. The rain had washed the +dust from the earth's face and from the green sward that bordered the +grey ribbon of the high road that led out from the city. The pastures +and the hay meadows and the turnip fields were all in their freshest +green, and beyond the fields the forest stood glorious in all its autumn +splendour, the ash trees bright yellow, the oaks rich brown, and the +maples all the colours of the rainbow. In the orchard--ah, the wonder +and the joy of it! even the bare and bony limbs of the apple trees only +helped to reveal the sumptuous wealth of their luscious fruit. For it +was apple time in the land! The evanescent harvest apples were long +since gone, the snows were past their best, the pippins were mellowing +under the sharp persuasion of the nippy, frosty nights and the brave +gallantry of the sunny days. In this ancient warfare between the frosty +nights and the gallant sunny days the apples ripened rapidly; and well +that they should, for the warfare could not be for long. Already in the +early morning hours the vanguard of winter's fierce hosts was to be seen +flaunting its hoary banners even in the very face of the gallant sun +so bravely making stand against it. But it was the time of the year in +which men felt it good to be alive, for there was in the air that +tang that gives speed to the blood, spring to the muscle, edge to the +appetite, courage to the soul, and zest to life--the apple time of the +year. + +It was in apple time that Cameron came back to the farm. Under +compulsion of Mandy, Haley had found it necessary to drive into the +city for some things for the "women folk" and, being in the city, he had +called for Cameron and had brought him out. Under compulsion, not at all +because Haley was indifferent to the prospect of a visit from his former +hired man, not alone because the fall plowing was pressing and the +threshing gang was in the neighbourhood, but chiefly because, through +the channel of Dr. Martin, the little nurse, and Mandy, it had come to +be known in the Haley household and in the country side that the +hired man was a "great swell in the old country," and Haley's sturdy +independence shrank from anything that savoured of "suckin' round a +swell," as he graphically put it. But Mandy scouted this idea and waited +for the coming of the expected guest with no embarrassment from the +knowledge that he had been in the old country "a great swell." + +Hence when, through a crack beside the window blind, she saw him, a +poor, pale shadow, descending wearily and painfully from the buggy, +the great mother heart in the girl welled with pity. She could hardly +forbear rushing out to carry him bodily in her strong arms to the spare +room and lay him where she had once helped to lay him the night of the +tragedy some eight weeks before. But in this matter she had learned her +lesson. She remembered the little nurse and her indignant scorn of the +lack of self-control she had shown on the occasion of her last visit to +the hospital. So, instead of rushing forth, she clutched the curtains +and forced herself to stand still, whispering to herself the while, "Oh, +he will die sure! He will die sure!" But when she looked upon him seated +comfortably in the kitchen with a steaming glass of ginger and whiskey, +her mother's unfailing remedy for "anything wrong with the insides," she +knew he would not die and her joy overflowed in boisterous welcome. + +For five days they all, from Haley to Tim, gave him of their very best, +seeking to hold him among them for the winter, for they had learned that +his mind was set upon the West, till Cameron was ashamed, knowing that +he must go. + +The last afternoon they all spent in the orchard. The Gravensteins, in +which species of apple Haley was a specialist, were being picked, and +picked with the greatest care, Cameron plucking them from the limbs and +dropping them into a basket held by Mandy below. It was one of those +sunny days when, after weeks of chilly absence, summer comes again and +makes the world glow with warmth and kindly life and quickens in the +heart the blood's flow. Cameron was full of talk and fuller of laughter +than his wont; indeed he was vexed to find himself struggling to +maintain unbroken the flow of laughter and of talk. But in Mandy there +was neither speech nor laughter, only a quiet dignity that disturbed and +rebuked him. + +The last tree of Gravensteins was picked and then there came the time +of parting. Cameron, with a man's selfish desire for some token of a +woman's adoration, even although he well knew that he could make no +return, lingered in the farewell, hoping for some sign in the plain +quiet face and the wonderful eyes with their new mystery that when +he had gone he would not be forgotten; but though the lips quivered +pitifully and the heavy face grew drawn and old and the eyes glowed +with a deeper fire, the words, when they came, came quietly and the eyes +looked steadily upon him, except that for one brief moment a fire leaped +in them and quickly died down. But when the buggy, with Tim driving, +had passed down the lane, behind the curtain of the spare room the +girl stood looking through the crack beside the blind, with both +hands pressed upon her bosom, her breath coming in sobs, her blue lips +murmuring brokenly, "Good-by, good-by! Oh, why did you come at all? But, +oh, I'm glad you came! God help me, I'm glad you came!" Then, when the +buggy had turned down the side lane and out of sight, she knelt beside +the bed and kissed, again and again, with tender, reverent kisses, the +pillow where his head had lain. + + + + +BOOK THREE + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE CAMP BY THE GAP + + +On the foot-hills' side of The Gap, on a grassy plain bounded on three +sides by the Bow River and on the other by ragged hills and broken +timber, stood Surveyor McIvor's camp, three white tents, seeming +wondrously insignificant in the shadow of the mighty Rockies, but cosy +enough. For on this April day the sun was riding high in the heavens in +all his new spring glory, where a few days ago and for many months past +the storm king with relentless rigour had raged, searching with pitiless +fury these rock-ribbed hills and threatening these white tents and their +dwellers with dire destruction. But threaten though he might and pin +them though he did beneath their frail canvas covers, he could not make +that gang beat retreat. McIvor was of the kind that takes no back trail. +In the late fall he had set out to run the line through The Gap, and +after many wanderings through the coulees of the foothills and after +many vain attempts, he had finally made choice of his route and had +brought his men, burnt black with chinook and frost and sun, hither to +The Gap's mouth. Every chain length in those weary marches was a battle +ground, every pillar, every picket stood a monument of victory. McIvor's +advance through the foot-hill country to The Gap had been one unbroken +succession of fierce fights with Nature's most terrifying forces, a +triumphal march of heroes who bore on their faces and on their bodies +the scars and laurels of the campaign. But to McIvor and his gang it was +all in the day's work. + +To Cameron the winter had brought an experience of a life hitherto +undreamed of, but never even in its wildest blizzards did he cherish +anything but gratitude to his friend Martin, who had got him attached to +McIvor's survey party. For McIvor was a man to "tie to," as Martin said, +and to Cameron he was a continual cause of wonder and admiration. He was +a big man, with a big man's quiet strength, patient, fearless of men +and things, reverent toward Nature's forces, which it was his life's +business to know, to measure, to control, and, if need be, to fight, +careful of his men, whether amid the perils of the march, or amid +the more deadly perils of trading post and railway construction camp. +Cameron never could forget the thrill of admiration that swept his soul +one night in Taylor's billiard and gambling "joint" down at the post +where the Elbow joins the Bow, when McIvor, without bluff or bluster, +took his chainman and his French-Canadian cook, the latter frothing mad +with "Jamaica Ginger" and "Pain-killer," out of the hands of the gang +of bad men from across the line who had marked them as lambs for the +fleecing. It was not the courage of his big chief so much that +had filled Cameron with amazed respect and admiration as the calm +indifference to every consideration but that of getting his men out of +harm's way, and the cool-headed directness of the method he employed. + +"Come along, boys," McIvor had said, gripping them by their coat +collars. "I don't pay you good money for this sort of thing." And so +saying he had lifted them clear from their seats, upsetting the table, +ignoring utterly the roaring oaths of the discomfited gamblers. What +would have been the result none could say, for one of the gamblers had +whipped out his gun and with sulphurous oaths was conducting a vigourous +demonstration behind the unconscious back of McIvor, when there strolled +into the room and through the crowd of men scattering to cover, a tall +slim youngster in the red jacket and pill-box cap of that world-famous +body of military guardians of law and order, the North West Mounted +Police. Not while he lived would Cameron forget the scene that followed. +With an air of lazy nonchalance the youngster strode quietly up to +the desperado flourishing his gun and asked in a tone that indicated +curiosity more than anything else, "What are you doing with that thing?" + +"I'll show yeh!" roared the man in his face, continuing to pour forth a +torrent of oaths. + +"Put it down there!" said the youngster in a smooth and silky voice, +pointing to a table near by. "You don't need that in this country." + +The man paused in his demonstration and for a moment or two stood in +amazed silence. The audacity of the youngster appeared to paralyse his +powers of speech and action. + +"Put it down there, my man. Do you hear?" The voice was still smooth, +but through the silky tones there ran a fibre of steel. Still the +desperado stood gazing at him. "Quick, do you hear?" There was a +sudden sharp ring of imperious, of overwhelming authority, and, to the +amazement of the crowd of men who stood breathless and silent about, +there followed one of those phenomena which experts in psychology +delight to explain, but which no man can understand. Without a word the +gambler slowly laid upon the table his gun, upon whose handle were many +notches, the tally of human lives it had accounted for in the hands of +this same desperado. + +"What is this for?" continued the young man, gently touching the belt of +cartridges. "Take it off!" + +The belt found its place beside the gun. + +"Now, listen!" gravely continued the youngster. "I give you twenty-four +hours to leave this post, and if after twenty-four hours you are found +here it will be bad for you. Get out!" + +The man, still silent, slunk out from the room. Irresistible authority +seemed to go with the word that sent him forth, and rightly so, for +behind that word lay the full weight of Great Britain's mighty empire. +It was Cameron's first experience of the North West Mounted Police, that +famous corps of frontier riders who for more than a quarter of a century +have ridden the marches of Great Britain's territories in the far +northwest land, keeping intact the Pax Britannica amid the wild turmoil +of pioneer days. To the North West Mounted Police and to the pioneer +missionary it is due that Canada has never had within her borders what +is known as a "wild and wicked West." It was doubtless owing to the +presence of that slim youngster in his scarlet jacket and pill-box cap +that McIvor got his men safely away without a hole in his back and that +his gang were quietly finishing their morning meal this shining April +day, in their camp by the Bow River in the shadow of the big white peaks +that guard The Gap. + +Breakfast over, McIvor heaved his great form to the perpendicular. + +"How is the foot, Cameron?" he asked, filling his pipe preparatory to +the march. + +"Just about fit," replied Cameron. + +"Better take another day," replied the chief. "You can get up wood and +get supper ready. Benoit will be glad enough to go out and take your +place for another day on the line." + +"Sure ting," cried Benoit, the jolly French-Canadian cook. "Good for +my healt. He's tak off my front porsch here." And the cook patted +affectionately the little round paunch that marred the symmetry of his +figure. + +"You ought to get Cameron to swap jobs with you, Benny," said one of the +axemen. "You would be a dandy in about another month." + +Benoit let his eye run critically over the line of his person. + +"Bon! Dat's true, for sure. In tree, four mont I mak de beeg spark on de +girl, me." + +"You bet, Benny!" cried the axeman. "You'll break 'em all up." + +"Sure ting!" cried Benny, catching up a coal for his pipe. "By by, +Cameron. Au revoir. I go for tak some more slice from my porsch." + +"Good-bye, Benny," cried Cameron. "It is your last chance, for to-morrow +I give you back your job. I don't want any 'front porsch' on me." + +"Ho! ho!" laughed Benny scornfully, as he turned to hurry after +his chief. "Dat's not moch front porsch on you. Dat's one rail +fence--clabbord." + +And indeed Benoit was right, for there was no "porsch" or sign of one on +Cameron's lean and muscular frame. The daily battle with winter's fierce +frosts and blizzards, the strenuous toil, the hard food had done their +work on him. Strong, firm-knit, clean and sound, hard and fit, he had +come through his first Canadian winter. No man in the camp, not even +the chief himself, could "bush" him in a day's work. He had gained +enormously in strength lately, and though the lines of his frame still +ran to angles, he had gained in weight as well. Never in the days of his +finest training was he as fit to get the best out of himself as now. +An injured foot had held him in camp for a week, but the injury was now +almost completely repaired and the week's change of work only served to +replenish his store of snap and vim. + +An hour or two sufficed to put the camp in the perfect order that he +knew Benoit would consider ideal and to get all in readiness for the +evening meal when the gang should return. He had the day before him +and what a day it was! Cameron lay upon a buffalo skin in front of the +cook-tent, content with all the world and for the moment with himself. +Six months ago he had engaged as an axeman in the surveyors' gang at +$30 per month and "found," being regarded more in the light of a +supernumerary and more or less of a burden than anything else. Now +he was drawing double the wage as rodman, and, of all the gang, stood +second to none in McIvor's regard. In this new venture he had come +nearer to making good than ever before in his life. So in full content +with himself he allowed his eyes to roam over the brown grassy plain +that sloped to the Bow in front, and over the Bow to the successive +lines of hills, rounded except where the black rocks broke jagged +through the turf, and upward over the rounded hills to the grey sides of +the mighty masses of the mountains, and still upward to where the white +peaks lost themselves in the shining blue of the sky. Behind him a +coulee ran back between hills to a line of timber, and beyond the timber +more hills and more valleys, and ever growing higher and deeper till +they ran into the bases of the great Rockies. + +As Cameron lay thus luxuriating upon his buffalo skin and lazily +watching the hills across the river through the curling wreaths that +gracefully and fragrantly rose from his briar root, there broke from the +line of timber two jumping deer, buck and doe, the latter slow-footed +because heavy with young. Behind them in hot pursuit came a pack of +yelping coyotes. The doe was evidently hard pressed. The buck was +running easily, but gallantly refusing to abandon his mate to her +cowardly foes. Straight for the icy river they made, plunged in, and, +making the crossing, were safe from their pursuing enemy. Cameron, +intent upon fresh meat, ran for McIvor's Winchester, but ere he could +buckle round him a cartridge belt and throw on his hunting jacket the +deer had disappeared over the rounded top of the nearest hill. Up the +coulee he ran to the timber and there waited, but there was no sign of +his game. Cautiously he made his way through the timber and dropped +into the next valley circling westward towards the mountains. The deer, +however, had completely vanished. Turning back upon his tracks, he once +more pierced the thin line of timber, when just across the coulee, some +three hundred yards away, on the sky line, head up and sniffing the +wind, stood the buck in clear view. Taking hurried aim Cameron fired. +The buck dropped as if dead. Marking the spot, Cameron hurried forward, +but to his surprise found only a trail of blood. + +"He's badly hit though," he said to himself. "I must get the poor chap +now at all costs." Swiftly he took up the trail, but though the blood +stains continued clear and fresh he could get no sight of the wounded +animal. Hour after hour he kept up the chase, forgetful of everything +but his determination to bring back his game to camp. From the freshness +of the stains he knew that the buck could not be far ahead and from the +footprints it was clear that the animal was going on three legs. + +"The beggar is hearing me and so keeps out of sight," said Cameron as +he paused to listen. He resolved to proceed more slowly and with greater +caution, but though he followed this plan for another half hour it +brought him no better success. The day was fast passing and he could +not much longer continue his pursuit. He became conscious of pain in his +injured foot. He sat down to rest and to review his situation. For the +first time he observed that the bright sky of the morning had become +overcast with a film of hazy cloud and that the temperature was rapidly +falling. Prudence suggested that he should at once make his way back to +camp, but with the instinct of the true hunter he was loath to abandon +the poor wounded beast to its unhappy fate. He resolved to make one +further attempt. Refreshed by his brief rest, but with an increasing +sense of pain in his foot, he climbed the slight rising ground before +him, cautiously pushed his way through some scrub, and there, within +easy shot, stood the buck, with drooping head and evidently with +strength nearly done. Cameron took careful aim--there must be no mistake +this time--and fired. The buck leaped high in the air, dropped and lay +still. The first shot had broken his leg, the second had pierced his +heart. + +Cameron hurried forward and proceeded to skin the animal. But soon +he abandoned this operation. "We'll come and get him to-morrow," he +muttered, "and he is better with his skin on. Meantime we'll have a +steak, however." He hung a bit of skin from a pole to keep off the +wolves and selected a choice cut for the supper. He worked hurriedly, +for the sudden drop in the temperature was ominous of a serious +disturbance in the weather, but before he had finished he was startled +to observe a large snowflake lazily flutter to the ground beside him. +He glanced towards the sky and found that the filmy clouds were rapidly +assuming definite shape and that the sun had almost disappeared. +Hurriedly he took his bearings and, calculating as best he could the +direction of the camp, set off, well satisfied with the outcome of his +expedition and filled with the pleasing anticipation of a venison supper +for himself and the rest of the gang. + +The country was for the most part open except for patches of timber here +and there, and with a clear sky the difficulty of maintaining direction +would have been but slight. With the sky overcast, however, this +difficulty was sensibly increased. He had not kept an accurate reckoning +of his course, but from the character of the ground he knew that he +must be a considerable distance westward of the line of the camp. His +training during the winter in holding a line of march helped him now to +maintain his course steadily in one direction. The temperature was still +dropping rapidly. Over the woods hung a dead stillness, except for the +lonely call of an occasional crow or for the scream of the impudent +whiskey-jack. But soon even these became silent. As he surmounted each +hill top Cameron took his bearings afresh and anxiously scanned the sky +for weather signs. In spite of himself there crept over him a sense of +foreboding, which he impatiently tried to shake off. + +"I can't be so very far from camp now," he said to himself, looking at +his watch. "It is just four. There are three good hours till dark." + +A little to the west of his line of march stood a high hill which +appeared to dominate the surrounding country and on its top a lofty +pine. "I'll just shin up that tree," said he. "I ought to get a sight +of the Bow from the top." In a few minutes he had reached the top of +the hill, but even in those minutes the atmosphere had thickened. "Jove, +it's getting dark!" he exclaimed. "It can't be near sundown yet. Did I +make a mistake in the time?" He looked at his watch again. It showed a +quarter after four. "I must get a look at this country." Hurriedly +he threw off his jacket and proceeded to climb the big pine, which, +fortunately, was limbed to the ground. From the lofty top his eye could +sweep the country for many miles around. Over the great peaks of the +Rockies to the west dark masses of black cloud shot with purple and +liver-coloured bars hung like a pall. To the north a line of clear light +was still visible, but over the foot-hills towards east and south there +lay almost invisible a shimmering haze, soft and translucent, and above +the haze a heavy curtain, while over the immediate landscape there shone +a strange weird light, through which there floated down to earth large +white snowflakes. Not a breath of air moved across the face of the +hills, but still as the dead they lay in solemn oppressive silence. Far +to the north Cameron caught the gleam of water. + +"That must be the Bow," he said to himself. "I am miles too far toward +the mountains. I don't like the look of that haze and that cloud bank. +There is a blizzard on the move if this winter's experience teaches me +anything." + +He had once been caught in a blizzard, but on that occasion he was +with McIvor. He was conscious now of a little clutch at his heart as +he remembered that desperate struggle for breath, for life it seemed to +him, behind McIvor's broad back. The country was full of stories of men +being overwhelmed by the choking, drifting whirl of snow. He knew how +swift at times the on-fall of the blizzard could be, how long the storm +could last, how appalling the cold could become. What should he do? He +must think and act swiftly. That gleaming water near which his camp +lay was, at the very best going, two hours distant. The blizzard might +strike at any moment and once it struck all hope of advance would be +cut off. He resolved to seek the best cover available and wait till the +storm should pass. He had his deer meat with him and matches. Could he +but make shelter he doubted not but he could weather the storm. Swiftly +he swept the landscape for a spot to camp. Half a mile away he spied a +little coulee where several valleys appeared to lose themselves in thick +underbrush. He resolved to make for that spot. Hurriedly he slipped down +the tree, donned belt and jacket and, picking up gun and venison, set +off at a run for the spot he had selected. A puff of wind touched his +cheek. He glanced up and about him. The flakes of snow were no longer +floating gently down, but were slanting in long straight lines across +the landscape. His heart took a quicker beat. + +"It is coming, sure enough," he said to himself between his teeth, "and +a bad one too at that." He quickened his pace to racing speed. Down the +hill, across the valley and up the next slope he ran without pause, +but as he reached the top of the slope a sound arrested him, a deep, +muffled, hissing roar, and mingled with it the beating of a thousand +wings. Beyond the top of the next hill there hung from sky to earth +the curtain, thick, black, portentous, and swiftly making approach, +devouring the landscape as it came and filling his ears with its +muffled, hissing roar. + +In the coulee beyond that hill was the spot he had marked for his +shelter. It was still some three hundred yards away. Could he beat that +roaring, hissing, portentous cloud mass? It was extremely doubtful. Down +the hill he ran, slipping, skating, pitching, till he struck the bottom, +then up the opposite slope he struggled, straining every nerve and +muscle. He glanced upward towards the top of the hill. Merciful heaven! +There it was, that portentous cloud mass, roaring down upon him. Could +he ever make that top? He ran a few steps further, then, dropping his +gun, he clutched a small poplar and hung fast. A driving, blinding, +choking, whirling mass of whiteness hurled itself at him, buffeting him +heavily, filling eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, clutching at his arms and +legs and body with a thousand impalpable insistent claws. For a moment +or two he lost all sense of direction, all thought of advance. One +instinct only he obeyed--to hold on for dear life to the swaying +quivering poplar. The icy cold struck him to the heart, his bare fingers +were fast freezing. A few moments he hung, hoping for a lull in the fury +of the blizzard, but lull there was none, only that choking, blinding, +terrifying Thing that clutched and tore at him. His heart sank within +him. This, then, was to be the end of him. A vision of his own body, +stark and stiff, lying under a mound of drifting snow, swiftly passed +before his mind. He threw it off wrathfully. "Not yet! Not just yet!" he +shouted in defiance into the face of the howling storm. + +Through the tumult and confusion of his thoughts one idea dominated--he +must make the hill-top. Sliding his hands down the trunk of the little +poplar he once more found his rifle and, laying it in the hollow of his +arm, he hugged it close to his side, shoved his freezing hands into his +pockets and, leaning hard against the driving blizzard, set off towards +the hill-top. A few paces he made, then turning around leaned back upon +the solid massive force of the wind till he could get breath. Again a +few steps upward and again a rest against the wind. His courage began to +come back. + +"Aha!" he shouted at the storm. "Not yet! Not yet!" Gradually, and with +growing courage, he fought his way to the top. At length he stood upon +the storm-swept summit. "I say," he cried, heartening himself with his +speech, "this is so much to the good anyway. Now for the coulee." But +exactly where did it lie? Absolutely nothing could he see before him +but this blinding, choking mass of whirling snow. He tried to recall the +direction in relation to the hill as he had taken it from the top of the +tree. How long ago that seemed! Was it minutes or hours? Downward and +towards the left lay the coulee. He could hardly fail to strike it. +Plunging headlong into the blizzard, he fought his way once more, step +by step. + +"It was jolly well like a scrimmage," he said grimly to the storm +which began in his imagination to assume a kind of monstrous and savage +personality. It heartened him much to remember his sensations in many +a desperate struggle against the straining steaming mass of muscle and +bone in the old fierce football fights. He recalled, too, a word of his +old captain, "Never say die! The next minute may be better." + +"Never say die!" he cried aloud in the face of his enemy. "But I wish to +heaven I could get up some of that heat just now. This cold is going to +be the death of me." + +As he spoke he bumped into a small bushy spruce tree. "Hello! Here you +are, eh!" he cried, determined to be cheerful. "Glad to meet you. Hope +there are lots more of you." His hope was realised! A few more steps and +he found himself in the heart of a spruce thicket. + +"Thank God!" he exclaimed. Then again--"Yes, thank God it is!" It +steadied his heart not a little to remember the picture in his mother's +Bible that had so often stirred his youthful imagination of One standing +in the fishing boat and bidding the storm be still. In the spruce +thicket he stood some moments to regain his breath and strength. + +"Now what next?" he asked himself. Although the thicket broke the force +of the wind, something must be done, and quickly. Night was coming on +and that meant an even intenser cold. His hands were numb. His hunting +jacket was but slight protection against the driving wind and the +bitter cold. If he could only light a fire! A difficult business in this +tumultuous whirlwind and snow. He had learned something of this art, +however, from his winter's experience. He began breaking from the spruce +trees the dead dry twigs. Oh for some birch bark! Like a forgotten +dream it came to him that from the tree top he had seen above the spruce +thicket the tops of some white birch trees purpling under the touch of +spring. + +"Let's see! Those birches must be further to my left," he said, +recalling their position. Painfully he forced his way through the +scrubby underbrush. His foot struck hard against an obstruction that +nearly threw him to the ground. It was a jutting rock. Peering through +the white mass before his eyes, he could make out a great black, +looming mass. Eagerly he pushed forward. It was a towering slab of rock. +Following it round on the lee side, he suddenly halted with a shout of +grateful triumph. A great section had fallen out of the rock, forming a +little cave, storm-proof and dry. + +"Thank God once more!" he said, and this time with even deeper +reverence. "Now for a fire. If I could only get some birch bark." + +He placed his rifle in a corner of the cave and went out on his hunt. +"By Jove, I must hurry, or my hands will be gone sure." Looking upwards +in the shelter of the rock through the driving snow he saw the bare tops +of trees. "Birch, too, as I am alive!" he cried, and plunging through +the bushes came upon a clump of white birches. + +With fingers that could hardly hold the curling bark he gathered a few +bunches and hurried back to the cave. Again he went forth and gathered +from the standing trees an armful of dead dry limbs. "Good!" he cried +aloud in triumph. "We're not beaten yet. Now for the fire and supper." +He drew forth his steel matchbox with numb and shaking fingers, opened +it and stood stricken dumb. There were only three matches in the box. +Unreasoning terror seized him. Three chances for life! He chose a match, +struck it, but in his numb and nerveless fingers the match snapped +near the head. With a new terror seizing him he took a second match and +struck it. The match flared, sputtering. Eagerly he thrust the birch +bark at it; too eagerly, alas, for the bark rubbed out the tiny flame. +He had one match left! One hope of life! He closed his matchbox. His +hands were trembling with the cold and more with nervous fear that shook +him in every limb. He could not bring himself to make the last attempt. +Up and down the cave and out and in he stamped, beating his hands to +bring back the blood and fighting hard to get back his nerve. + +"This is all rotten funk!" he cried aloud, raging at himself. "I shall +not be beaten." + +Summoning all his powers, he once more pulled out his matchbox, rubbed +his birch bark fine and, kneeling down, placed it between his knees +under the shelter of his hunting jacket. Kneeling there with the +matchbox in his hand, there fell upon his spirit a great calm. "Oh, +God!" he said quietly and with the conviction in his soul that there +was One listening, "help me now." He opened the matchbox, took out the +match, struck it carefully and laid it among the birch bark. For one +heart-racking moment it flickered unsteadily, then, catching a resinous +fibre of the bark, it flared up, shot out a tiny tongue to one of the +heavier bunches, caught hold, sputtered, smoked, burst into flame. With +the prayer still going in his heart, "God help me now," Cameron fed the +flame with bits of bark and tiny twigs, adding more and more till the +fire began to leap, dance, and snap, and at length gaining strength it +roared its triumph over the grim terror so recently threatened. + +For the present at least the blizzard was beaten. + +"Now God be thanked for that," said Cameron. "For it was past my doing." + + + +CHAPTER II + +ON THE WINGS OF THE STORM + + +Shivering and hungry and fighting with sleep, Cameron stamped up +and down his cave, making now and then excursions into the storm to +replenish his fire. On sharpened sticks slices of venison were cooking +for his supper. Outside the storm raged with greater violence than ever +and into the cave the bitter cold penetrated, effectually neutralizing +the warmth of the little fire, for the wood was hard to get and a larger +fire he could not afford. + +He looked at his watch and was amazed to find it only five o'clock. How +long could he maintain this fight? His heart sank at the prospect of +the long night before him. He sat down upon the rock close beside his +cooking venison and in a few moments was fast asleep. + +He awoke with a start and found that the fire had crept along a jutting +branch and had reached his fingers. He sprang to his feet. The fire lay +in smouldering embers, for the sticks were mere brushwood. A terrible +fear seized him. His life depended upon the maintaining of this fire. +Carefully he assembled the embers and nursed them into bright flame. +At all costs he must keep awake. A further excursion into the woods for +fuel thoroughly roused him from his sleep. Soon his fire was blazing +brightly again. + +Consulting his watch, he found that he must have slept half an hour. He +determined that in order to keep himself awake and to provide against +the growing cold he would lay in a stock of firewood, and so he began a +systematic search for fallen trees that he might drag to his shelter. + +As he was setting forth upon his search he became aware of a new sound +mingling with the roaring of the storm about him, a soft, pounding, +rhythmic sound. With every nerve strained he listened. It was like the +beating of hoofs. He ran out into the storm and, holding his hands +to his ears, bent forward to listen. Faintly over the roaring of the +blizzard, and rising and falling with it, there came the sound of +singing. + +"Am I mad?" he said to himself, beating his head with his hands. He +rushed into the cave, threw upon the fire all the brushwood he had +gathered, until it sprang up into a great glare, lighting up the cave +and its surroundings. Then he rushed forth once more to the turn of the +rock. The singing could now be plainly heard. + +"Three cheers for the red, white--Get on there, you variously coloured +and multitudinously cursed brutes!--Three cheers for the red--Hie there, +look out, Little Thunder! They are off to the left." + +"Hello!" yelled Cameron at the top of his voice. "Hello, there!" + +"Whoa!" yelled a voice sharply. The sound of hoof beats ceased and only +the roaring of the blizzard could be heard. + +"Hello!" cried Cameron again. "Who are you?" But only the gale answered +him. + +Again and again he called, but no voice replied. Once more he rushed +into the cave, seized his rifle and fired a shot into the air. + +"Crack-crack," two bullets spat against the rock over his head. + +"Hold on there, you fool!" yelled Cameron, dodging back behind the rock. +"What are you shooting at? Hello there!" Still there was no reply. + +Long he waited till, desperate with anxiety lest his unknown visitors +should abandon him, he ran forward once more beyond the ledge of the +rock, shouting, "Hello! Hello! Don't shoot! I'm coming out to you." + +At the turn of the rocky ledge he paused, concentrating his powers to +catch some sound other than the dull boom and hiss of the blizzard. +Suddenly at his side something moved. + +"Put up your hands, quick!" + +A dark shape, with arm thrust straight before it, loomed through the +drift of snow. + +"Oh, I say--" began Cameron. + +"Quick!" said the voice, with a terrible oath, "or I drop you where you +stand." + +"All right!" said Cameron, lifting up his hands with his rifle high +above his head. "But hurry up! I can't stand this long. I am nearly +frozen as it is." + +The man came forward, still covering him with his pistol. He ran his +free hand over Cameron's person. + +"How many of you?" he asked, in a voice sharp and crisp. + +"I am all alone. But hurry up! I am about all in." + +"Lead on to your fire!" said the stranger. "But if you want to live, no +monkey work. I've got you lined." + +Cameron led the way to the fire. The stranger threw a swift glance +around the cave, then, with eyes still holding Cameron, he whistled +shrilly on his fingers. Almost immediately, it seemed to Cameron, there +came into the light another man who proved to be an Indian, short, +heavily built, with a face hideously ugly and rendered more repulsive +by the small, red-rimmed, blood-shot eyes that seemed to Cameron to peer +like gimlets into his very soul. + +At a word of command the Indian possessed himself of Cameron's rifle and +stood at the entrance. + +"Now," said the stranger, "talk quick. Who are you? How did you come +here? Quick and to the point." + +"I am a surveyor," said Cameron briefly. "McIvor's gang. I was left at +camp to cook, saw a deer, wounded it, followed it up, lost my way, the +storm caught me, but, thank God, I found this cave, and with my last +match lit the fire. I was trying to cook my venison when I heard you +coming." + +The grey-brown eyes of the stranger never left Cameron's face while he +was speaking. + +"You're a liar!" he said with cold insolence when Cameron had finished +his tale. "You look to me like a blank blank horse thief or whiskey +trader." + +Faint as he was with cold and hunger, the deliberate insolence of the +man stirred Cameron to sudden rage. The blood flooded his pale face. + +"You coward!" he cried in a choking voice, gathering himself to spring +at the man's throat. + +But the stranger only laughed and, stepping backward, spoke a word +to the Indian behind him. Before he could move Cameron found himself +covered by the rifle with the malignant eye of the Indian behind it. + +"Hold on, Little Thunder, drop it!" said the stranger with a slight +laugh. + +Reluctantly the rifle came down. + +"All right, Mr. Surveyor," said the stranger with a good-natured laugh. +"Pardon my abruptness. I was merely testing you. One cannot be too +careful in these parts nowadays when the woods are full of horse thieves +and whiskey runners. Oh, come on," he continued, glancing at Cameron's +face, "I apologise. So you're lost, eh? Hungry too? Well, so am I, and +though I was not going to feed just yet we may as well grub together. +Bring the cattle into shelter here," he said to Little Thunder. "They +will stand right enough. And get busy with the grub." + +The Indian grunted a remonstrance. + +"Oh, that's all right," replied the stranger. "Hand it over." He took +Cameron's rifle from the Indian and set it in the corner. "Now get a +move on! We have no time to waste." + +So saying he hurried out himself into the storm. In a few minutes +Cameron could hear the blows of an axe, and soon the stranger appeared +with a load of dry wood with which he built up a blazing fire. He +was followed shortly by the Indian, who from a sack drew out bacon, +hardtack, and tea, and, with cooking utensils produced from another +sack, speedily prepared supper. + +"Pile in," said the stranger to Cameron, passing him the pan in which +the bacon and venison had been fried. "Pass the tea, Little Thunder. No +time to waste. We've got to hustle." + +Cameron was only too eager to obey these orders, and in the generous +warmth of the big fire and under the stimulus of the boiling tea his +strength and nerve began to come back to him. + +For some minutes he was too intent on satisfying his ravenous hunger to +indulge in conversation with his host, but as his hunger became appeased +he began to give his attention to the man who had so mysteriously blown +in upon him out of the blizzard. There was something fascinating about +the lean, clean-cut face with its firm lines about the mouth and chin +and its deep set brown-grey eyes that glittered like steel or shone +like limpid pools of light according to the mood of the man. They were +extraordinary eyes. Cameron remembered them like dagger points behind +the pistol and then like kindly lights in a dark window when he had +smiled. Just now as he sat eating with eager haste the eyes were staring +forward into the fire out of deep sockets, with a far-away, reminiscent, +kindly look in them. The lumberman's heavy skin-lined jacket and the +overalls tucked into boots could not hide the athletic lines of the +lithe muscular figure. Cameron looked at his hands with their long, +sinewy fingers. "The hands of a gentleman," thought he. "What is his +history? And where does he come from?" + +"London's my home," said the stranger, answering Cameron's mental +queries. "Name, Raven--Richard Colebrooke Raven--Dick for short; +rancher, horse and cattle trader; East Kootenay; at present running in +a stock of goods and horses; and caught like yourself in this beastly +blizzard." + +"My name's Cameron, and I'm from Edinburgh a year ago," replied Cameron +briefly. + +"Edinburgh? Knew it ten years ago. Quiet old town, quaint folk. Never +know what they are thinking about you." + +Cameron smiled. How well he remembered the calm, detached, critical but +uncurious gaze with which the dwellers of the modern Athens were wont to +regard mere outsiders. + +"I know," he said. "I came from the North myself." + +The stranger had apparently forgotten him and was gazing steadily into +the fire. Suddenly, with extraordinary energy, he sprang from the ground +where he had been sitting. + +"Now," he cried, "en avant!" + +"Where to?" asked Cameron, rising to his feet. + +"East Kootenay, all the way, and hustle's the word." + +"Not me," said Cameron. "I must get back to my camp. If you will kindly +leave me some grub and some matches I shall be all right and very much +obliged. McIvor will be searching for me to-morrow." + +"Ha!" burst forth the stranger in vehement expletive. "Searching for +you, heh?" He stood for a few moments in deep thought, then spoke to the +Indian a few words in his own language. That individual, with a fierce +glance towards Cameron, grunted a gruff reply. + +"No, no," said Raven, also glancing at Cameron. Again the Indian spoke, +this time with insistent fierceness. "No! no! you cold-blooded devil," +replied the trader. "No! But," he added with emphasis, "we will take him +with us. Pack! Here, bring in coat, mitts, socks, Little Thunder. And +move quick, do you hear?" His voice rang out in imperious command. + +Little Thunder, growling though he might, no longer delayed, but dived +into the storm and in a few moments returned bearing a bag from which he +drew the articles of clothing desired. + +"But I am not going with you," said Cameron firmly. "I cannot desert +my chief this way. It would give him no end of trouble. Leave me some +matches and, if you can spare it, a little grub, and I shall do finely." + +"Get these things on," replied Raven, "and quit talking. Don't be +a fool! we simply can't leave you behind. If you only knew the +alternative, you'd--" + +Cameron glanced at the Indian. The eager fierce look on that hideous +face startled him. + +"We will send you back all safe in a few days," continued the trader +with a smile. "Come, don't delay! March is the word." + +"I won't go!" said Cameron resolutely. "I'll stay where I am." + +"All right, you fool!" replied Raven with a savage oath. "Take your +medicine then." + +He nodded to the Indian. With a swift gleam of joy in his red-rimmed +eyes the Indian reached swiftly for Cameron's rifle. + +"No, too much noise," said Raven, coolly finishing the packing. + +A swift flash of a knife in the firelight, and the Indian hurled himself +upon the unsuspecting Cameron. But quick as was the attack Cameron was +quicker. Gripping the Indian's uplifted wrist with his left hand, he +brought his right with terrific force upon the point of his assailant's +chin. The Indian spun round like a top and pitched out into the dark. + +"Neatly done!" cried the trader with a great oath and a laugh. "Hold on, +Little Thunder!" he continued, as the Indian reappeared, knife in hand, +"He'll come now. Quiet, you beast! Ah-h-h! Would you?" He seized by the +throat and wrist the Indian, who, frothing with rage and snarling like +a wild animal, was struggling to reach Cameron again. "Down, you dog! Do +you hear me?" + +With a twist of his arms he brought the Indian to his knees and held him +as he might a child. Quite suddenly the Indian grew still. + +"Good!" said Raven. "Now, no more of this. Pack up." + +Without a further word or glance at Cameron, Little Thunder gathered up +the stuff and vanished. + +"Now," continued the trader, "you perhaps see that it would be wise for +you to come along without further delay." + +"All right," said Cameron, trembling with indignant rage, "but remember, +you'll pay for this." + +The trader smiled kindly upon him. + +"Better get these things on," he said, pointing to the articles of +clothing upon the cave floor. "The blizzard is gathering force and we +have still some hours to ride. But," he continued, stepping close to +Cameron and looking him in the eyes, "there must be no more nonsense. +You can see my man is somewhat short in temper; and indeed mine is +rather brittle at times." + +For a single instant a smile curled the firm lips and half closed the +steely eyes of the speaker, and, noting the smile and the steely gleam +in the grey-brown eyes, Cameron hastily decided that he would no longer +resist. + +Warmed and fed and protected against the blizzard, but with his heart +full of indignant wrath, Cameron found himself riding on a wretched +cayuse before the trader whose horse could but dimly be seen through the +storm, but which from his antics appeared to be possessed of a thousand +demons. + +"Steady, Nighthawk, old boy! We'll get 'em moving after a bit," said +his master, soothing the kicking beast. "Aha, that was just a shade +violent," he remonstrated, as the horse with a scream rushed open +mouthed at a blundering pony and sent him scuttling forward in wild +terror after the bunch already disappearing down the trail, following +Little Thunder upon his broncho. + +The blizzard was now in their back and, though its force was thereby +greatly lessened, the black night was still thick with whirling snow and +the cold grew more intense every moment. Cameron could hardly see his +pony's ears, but, loping easily along the levels, scrambling wildly up +the hills, and slithering recklessly down the slopes, the little brute +followed without pause the cavalcade in front. How they kept the trail +Cameron could not imagine, but, with the instinct of their breed, the +ponies never faltered. Far before in the black blinding storm could +be heard the voice of Little Thunder, rising and falling in a kind of +singing chant, a chant which Cameron was afterwards to know right well. + + "Kai-yai, hai-yah! Hai! Hai!! Hai!!! + Kai-yai, hai-yah! Hai! Hai!! Hai!!!" + +Behind him came the trader, riding easily his demon-spirited broncho, +and singing in full baritone the patriotic ode dear to Britishers the +world over: + + "Three cheers for the red, white and blue! + Three cheers for the red, white and blue! + The army and navy for ever, + Three cheers for the red, white and blue!" + +As Cameron went pounding along through the howling blizzard, half +asleep upon his loping, scrambling, slithering pony, with the "Kai-yai, +hai-yah" of Little Thunder wailing down the storm from before him and +the martial notes of the trader behind him demanding cheers for Her +Majesty's naval and military forces, he seemed to himself to be in the +grip of some ghastly nightmare which, try as he might, he was unable to +shake off. + +The ghastly unreality of the nightmare was dispelled by the sudden halt +of the bunch of ponies in front. + +"All off!" cried the trader, riding forward upon his broncho, which, +apparently quite untired by the long night ride, danced forward through +the bunch gaily biting and slashing as he went. "All off! Get them into +the 'bunk-house' there, Little Thunder. Come along, Mr. Cameron, we have +reached our camp. Take off the bridle and blanket and let your pony go." + +Cameron did as he was told, and guided by the sound of the trader's +voice made his way to a low log building which turned out to be the +deserted "grub-house" of an old lumber camp. + +"Come along," cried the trader heartily. "Welcome to Fifty Mile Camp. +Its accommodation is somewhat limited, but we can at least offer you +a bunk, grub, and fire, and these on a night like this are not to be +despised." He fumbled around in the dark for a few moments and found and +lit a candle stuck in an empty bottle. "There," he cried in a tone of +genial hospitality and with a kindly smile, "get a fire on here and make +yourself at home. Nighthawk demands my attention for the present. Don't +look so glum, old boy," he added, slapping Cameron gaily on the back. +"The worst is over." So saying, he disappeared into the blizzard, +singing at the top of his voice in the cheeriest possible tones: + + "The army and navy for ever, + Three cheers for the red, white and blue!" + +and leaving Cameron sorely perplexed as to what manner of man this might +be; who one moment could smile with all the malevolence of a fiend and +again could welcome him with all the generous and genial hospitality he +might show to a loved and long-lost friend. + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE STONIES + + +The icy cold woke Cameron as the grey light came in through the dirty +windows and the cracks between the logs of the grub-house. Already +Little Thunder was awake and busy with the fire in the cracked and rusty +stove. Cameron lay still and watched. Silently, swiftly the Indian moved +about his work till the fire began to roar and the pot of snow on the +top to melt. Then the trader awoke. With a single movement he was out +upon the floor. + +"All hands awake!" he shouted. "Aha, Mr. Cameron! Good sleep, eh? Slept +like a bear myself. Now grub, and off! Still blowing, eh? Well, so +much the better. There is a spot thirty miles on where we will be snug +enough. How's breakfast, Little Thunder? This is our only chance to-day, +so don't spare the grub." + +Cameron made but slight reply. He was stiff and sore with the cold and +the long ride of the day before. This, however, he minded but little. If +he could only guess what lay before him. He was torn between anxiety and +indignation. He could hardly make himself believe that he was alive and +in his waking senses. Twenty-four hours ago he was breakfasting with +McIvor and his gang in the camp by The Bow; now he was twenty or thirty +miles away in the heart of the mountains and practically a prisoner in +the hands of as blood-thirsty a looking Indian as he had ever seen, and +a man who remained to him an inexplicable mystery. Who and what was +this man? He scanned his face in the growing light. Strength, daring, +alertness, yes, and kindliness, he read in the handsome, brown, lean +face of this stranger, lit by its grey-brown hazel eyes and set off +with brown wavy hair which the absence of a cap now for the first time +revealed. + +"He looks all right," Cameron said to himself. And yet when he recalled +the smile that had curled these thin lips and half closed these hazel +eyes in the cave the night before, and when he thought of that murderous +attack of his Indian companion, he found it difficult wholly to trust +the man who was at once his rescuer and his captor. + +In the days of the early eighties there were weird stories floating +about through the Western country of outlaw Indian traders whose chief +stock for barter was a concoction which passed for whiskey, but the +ingredients of which were principally high wines and tobacco juice, with +a little molasses to sweeten it and a touch of blue stone to give +it bite. Men of reckless daring were these traders, resourceful and +relentless. For a bottle of their "hell-fire fluid" they would buy a +buffalo hide, a pack of beaver skins, or a cayuse from an Indian without +hesitation or remorse. With a keg or two of their deadly brew they would +approach a tribe and strip it bare of a year's catch of furs. + +In the fierce fights that often followed, the Indian, poorly armed and +half dead with the poison he had drunk, would come off second best and +many a wretched native was left to burn and blister upon the plains +or among the coulees at the foothills to mark the trail of the whiskey +runners. + +In British territory all this style of barter was of course unlawful. +The giving, selling, or trading of any sort of intoxicant to the Indians +was absolutely prohibited. But it was a land of vast and mighty spaces, +and everywhere were hiding places where armies could be safely disposed, +and therefore there was small chance for the enforcement of the laws of +the Dominion. There was little risk to the whiskey runners; and, indeed, +however great the risk, the immense profits of their trade would have +made them willing to take it. + +Hence all through the Western plains the whiskey runners had their way +to the degradation and demoralization of the unhappy natives and to +the rapid decimation of their numbers. Horse thieves, too, and cattle +"rustlers" operating on both sides of "the line" added to the general +confusion and lawlessness that prevailed and rendered the lives and +property of the few pioneer settlers insecure. + +It was to deal with this situation that the Dominion Government +organised and despatched the North West Mounted Police to Western +Canada. Immediately upon the advent of this famous corps matters began +to improve. The open ravages of the whiskey runners ceased and these +daring outlaws were forced to carry on their fiendish business by +midnight marches and through the secret trails and coulees of the +foothills. The profits of the trade, however, were still great enough +to tempt the more reckless and daring of these men. Cattle rustling +and horse stealing still continued, but on a much smaller scale. To the +whole country the advent of the police proved an incalculable blessing. +But to the Indian tribes especially was this the case. The natives soon +learned to regard the police officers as their friends. In them they +found protection from the unscrupulous traders who had hitherto cheated +them without mercy or conscience, as well as from the whiskey runners +through whose devilish activities their people had suffered irreparable +loss. + +The administration of the law by the officers of the police with firm +and patient justice put an end also to the frequent and bloody wars that +had prevailed previously between the various tribes, till, by these wild +and savage people the red coat came to be regarded with mingled awe and +confidence, a terror to evil-doers and a protection to those that did +well. + +To which class did this man belong? This Cameron was utterly unable to +decide. + +With this problem vexing his mind he ate his breakfast in almost +complete silence, making only monosyllabic replies to the trader's +cheerful attempts at conversation. + +Suddenly, with disconcerting accuracy, the trader seemed to read his +mind. + +"Now, Mr. Cameron," he said, pulling out his pipe, "we will have a smoke +and a chat. Fill up." He passed Cameron his little bag of tobacco. "Last +night things were somewhat strained," he continued. "Frankly, I confess, +I took you at first for a whiskey runner and a horse thief, and having +suffered from these gentlemen considerably I was taking no chances." + +"Why force me to go with you, then?" asked Cameron angrily. + +"Why? For your good. There is less danger both to you--and to me--with +you under my eye," replied the trader with a smile. + +"Yet your man would have murdered me?" + +"Well, you see Little Thunder is one of the Blood Tribe and rather swift +with his knife at times, I confess. Besides, his family has suffered at +the hands of the whiskey runners. He is a chief and he owes it to these +devils that he is out of a job just now. You may imagine he is somewhat +touchy on the point of whiskey traders. + +"It was you set him on me," said Cameron, still wrathful. + +"No, no," said the trader, laughing quietly. "That was merely to startle +you out of your, pardon me, unreasonable obstinacy. You must believe me +it was the only thing possible that you should accompany us, for if you +were a whiskey runner then it was better for us that you should be under +guard, and if you were a surveyor it was better for you that you should +be in our care. Why, man, this storm may go for three days, and you +would be stiff long before anyone could find you. No, no, I confess our +measures may have seemed somewhat--ah--abrupt, but, believe me, they +were necessary, and in a day or two you will acknowledge that I am in +the right of it. Meantime let's trust each other, and there is my hand +on it, Cameron." + +There was no resisting the frank smile, the open manner of the man, and +Cameron took the offered hand with a lighter heart than he had known for +the last twelve hours. + +"Now, then, that's settled," cried the trader, springing to his feet. +"Cameron, you can pack this stuff together while Little Thunder and I +dig out our bunch of horses. They will be half frozen and it will be +hard to knock any life into them." + +It was half an hour before Cameron had his packs ready, and, there being +no sign of the trader, he put on his heavy coat, mitts, and cap and +fought his way through the blizzard, which was still raging in full +force, to the bunk-house, a log building about thirty feet long and half +as wide, in which were huddled the horses and ponies to the number of +about twenty. Eight of the ponies carried pack saddles, and so busy were +Raven and the Indian with the somewhat delicate operation of assembling +the packs that he was close upon them before they were aware. Boxes and +bags were strewn about in orderly disorder, and on one side were several +small kegs. As Cameron drew near, the Indian, who was the first to +notice him, gave a grunt. + +"What the blank blank are you doing here?" cried Raven with a string +of oaths, flinging a buffalo robe over the kegs. "My word! You startled +me," he added with a short laugh. "I haven't got used to you yet. All +right, Little Thunder, get these boxes together. Bring that grey cayuse +here, Cameron, the one with the rope on near the door." + +This was easier said than done, for the half-broken brute snorted and +plunged till Cameron, taking a turn of the rope round his nose, forced +him up through the trembling, crowding bunch. + +"Good!" said the trader. "You are all right. You didn't learn to rope a +cayuse in Edinburgh, I guess. Here's his saddle. Cinch it on." + +While Cameron was engaged in carrying out these orders Little Thunder +and the trader were busy roping boxes and kegs into pack loads with a +skill and dexterity that could only be the result of long practice. + +"Now, then, Cameron, we'll load some of this molasses on your pony." + +So saying, Raven picked up one of the kegs. + +"Hello, Little Thunder, this keg's leaking. It's lost the plug, as I'm a +sinner." + +Sure enough, from a small auger hole golden syrup was streaming over the +edge of the keg. + +"I am certain I put that plug in yesterday," said Raven. "Must have been +knocked out last night. Fortunately it stood right end up or we should +have lost the whole keg." + +While he was speaking he was shaping a small stick into a small plug, +which he drove tight into the keg. + +"That will fix it," he said. "Now then, put these boxes on the other +side. That will do. Take your pony toward the door and tie him there. +Little Thunder and I will load the rest and bring them up." + +In a very short time all the remaining goods were packed into neat loads +and lashed upon the pack ponies in such a careful manner that neither +box nor keg could be seen outside the cover of blankets and buffalo +skins. + +"Now then," cried Raven. "Boots and saddles! We will give you a better +mount to-day," he continued, selecting a stout built sorrel pony. "There +you are! And a dandy he is, sure-footed as a goat and easy as a cradle. +Now then, Nighthawk, we shall just clear out this bunch." + +As he spoke he whipped the blanket off his horse. Cameron could not +forbear an exclamation of wonder and admiration as his eyes fell +upon Raven's horse. And not without reason, for Nighthawk was as +near perfection as anything in horse flesh of his size could be. His +coal-black satin skin, his fine flat legs, small delicate head, sloping +hips, round and well ribbed barrel, all showed his breed. Rolling up the +blanket, Raven strapped it to his saddle and, flinging himself astride +his horse, gave a yell that galvanised the wretched, shivering, +dispirited bunch into immediate life and activity. + +"Get out the packers there, Little Thunder. Hurry up! Don't be all day. +Cameron, fall behind with me." + +Little Thunder seized the leading line of the first packer, leaped +astride his own pony, and pushed out into the storm. But the rest of the +animals held back and refused to face the blizzard. The traditions of +the cayuse are unheroic in the matter of blizzards and are all in favor +of turning tail to every storm that blows. But Nighthawk soon overcame +their reluctance, whether traditional or otherwise. With a fury nothing +less than demoniacal he fell upon the animals next him and inspired them +with such terror that, plunging forward, they carried the bunch crowding +through the door. It was no small achievement to turn some twenty +shivering, balky, stubborn cayuses and bronchos out of their shelter +and swing them through the mazes of the old lumber camp into the trail +again. But with Little Thunder breaking the trail and chanting his +encouraging refrain in front and the trader and his demoniac stallion +dynamically bringing up the rear, this achievement was effected without +the straying of a single animal. Raven was in great spirits, singing, +shouting, and occasionally sending Nighthawk open-mouthed in a fierce +charge upon the laggards hustling the long straggling line onwards +through the whirling drifts without pause or falter. Occasionally he +dropped back beside Cameron, who brought up the rear, bringing a word of +encouragement or approval. + +"How do they ever keep the trail?" asked Cameron on one of these +occasions. + +"Little Thunder does the trick. He is the greatest tracker in this +country, unless it is his cayuse, which has a nose like a bloodhound and +will keep the trail through three feet of snow. The rest of the bunch +follow. They are afraid to do anything else in a blizzard like this." + +So hour after hour, upward along mountainsides, for by this time they +were far into the Rockies, and down again through thick standing forests +in the valleys, across ravines and roaring torrents which the warm +weather of the previous days had released from the glaciers, and over +benches of open country, where the grass lay buried deep beneath +the snow, they pounded along. The clouds of snow ever whirling about +Cameron's head and in front of his eyes hid the distant landscape and +engulfed the head of the cavalcade before him. Without initiative and +without volition, but in a dreamy haze, he sat his pony to which he +entrusted his life and fortune and waited for the will of his mysterious +companion to develope. + +About mid-day Nighthawk danced back out of the storm ahead and dropped +in beside Cameron's pony. + +"A chinook coming," said Raven. "Getting warmer, don't you notice?" + +"No, I didn't notice, but now that you call attention to it I do feel a +little more comfortable," replied Cameron. + +"Sure thing. Rain in an hour." + +"An hour? In six perhaps." + +"In less than an hour," replied Raven, "the chinook will be here. We're +riding into it. It blows down through the pass before us and it will +lick up this snow in no time. You'll see the grass all about you before +three hours are passed." + +The event proved the truth of Raven's prediction. With incredible +rapidity the temperature continued to rise. In half an hour Cameron +discarded his mitts and unbuttoned his skin-lined jacket. The wind +dropped to a gentle breeze, swinging more and more into the southwest, +and before the hour was gone the sun was shining fitfully again and the +snow had changed into a drizzling rain. + +The extraordinary suddenness of these atmospheric changes only increased +the sense of phantasmic unreality with which Cameron had been struggling +during the past thirty-six hours. As the afternoon wore on the air +became sensibly warmer. The moisture rose in steaming clouds from +the mountainsides, the snow ran everywhere in gurgling rivulets, the +rivulets became streams, the streams rivers, and the mountain torrents +which they had easily forded earlier in the day threatened to sweep them +away. + +The trader's spirits appeared to rise with the temperature. He was in +high glee. It was as if he had escaped some imminent peril. + +"We will make it all right!" he shouted to Little Thunder as they paused +for a few moments in a grassy glade. "Can we make the Forks before +dark?" + +Little Thunder's grunt might mean anything, but to the trader it +expressed doubt. + +"On then!" he shouted. "We must make these brutes get a move on. They'll +feed when we camp." + +So saying he hurled his horse upon the straggling bunch of ponies that +were eagerly snatching mouthfuls of grass from which the chinook had +already melted the snow. Mercilessly and savagely the trader, with whip +and voice and charging stallion, hustled the wretched animals into the +trail once more. And through the long afternoon, with unceasing and +brutal ferocity, he belabored the faltering, stumbling, half-starved +creatures, till from sheer exhaustion they were like to fall upon the +trail. It was a weary business and disgusting, but the demon spirit of +Nighthawk seemed to have passed into his master, and with an insistence +that knew no mercy together they battered that wretched bunch up and +down the long slopes till at length the merciful night fell upon the +straggling, stumbling cavalcade and made a rapid pace impossible. + +At the head of a long slope Little Thunder came to an abrupt halt, rode +to the rear and grunted something to his chief. + +"What?" cried Raven in a startled voice. "Stonies! Where?" + +Little Thunder pointed. + +"Did they see you?" This insult Little Thunder disdained to notice. +"Good!" replied Raven. "Stay here, Cameron, we will take a look at +them." + +In a very few minutes he returned, an eager tone in his voice, an eager +gleam in his eyes. + +"Stonies!" he exclaimed. "And a big camp. On their way back from their +winter's trapping. Old Macdougall himself in charge, I think. Do you +know him?" + +"I have heard of him," said Cameron, and his tone indicated his +reverence for the aged pioneer Methodist missionary who had accomplished +such marvels during his long years of service with his Indian flock and +had gained such a wonderful control over them. + +"Yes, he is all right," replied Raven, answering his tone. "He is a +shrewd old boy, though. Looks mighty close after the trading end. Well, +we will perhaps do a little trade ourselves. But we won't disturb the +old man," he continued, as if to himself. "Come and take a look at +them." + +Little Thunder had halted at a spot where the trail forked. One part led +to the right down the long slope of the mountain, the other to the left, +gradually climbing toward the top. The Stonies had come by the right +hand trail and were now camped off the trail on a little sheltered bench +further down the side of the mountain and surrounded by a scattering +group of tall pines. Through the misty night their camp fires burned +cheerily, lighting up their lodges. Around the fires could be seen +groups of men squatted on the ground and here and there among the lodges +the squaws were busy, evidently preparing the evening meal. At one side +of the camp could be distinguished a number of tethered ponies and near +them others quietly grazing. + +But though the camp lay only a few hundred yards away and on a lower +level, not a sound came up from it to Cameron's ears except the +occasional bark of a dog. The Indians are a silent people and move +noiselessly through Nature's solitudes as if in reverence for her sacred +mysteries. + +"We won't disturb them," said Raven in a low tone. "We will slip past +quietly." + +"They come from Morleyville, don't they?" enquired Cameron. + +"Yes." + +"Why not visit the camp?" exclaimed Cameron eagerly. "I am sure Mr. +Macdougall would be glad to see us. And why could not I go back with +him? My camp is right on the trail to Morleyville." + +Raven stood silent, evidently perplexed. + +"Well," he replied hesitatingly, "we shall see later. Meantime let's get +into camp ourselves. And no noise, please." His voice was low and stern. + +Silently, and as swiftly as was consistent with silence, Little Thunder +led his band of pack horses along the upper trail, the trader and +Cameron bringing up the rear with the other ponies. For about half a +mile they proceeded in this direction, then, turning sharply to the +right, they cut across through the straggling woods, and so came upon +the lower trail, beyond the encampment of the Stonies and well out of +sight of it. + +"We camp here," said Raven briefly. "But remember, no noise." + +"What about visiting their camp?" enquired Cameron. + +"There is no immediate hurry." + +He spoke a few words to Little Thunder in Indian. + +"Little Thunder thinks they may be Blackfeet. We can't be too careful. +Now let's get grub." + +Cameron made no reply. The trader's hesitating manner awakened all his +former suspicions. He was firmly convinced the Indians were Stonies and +he resolved that come what might he would make his escape to their camp. + +Without unloading their packs they built their fire upon a large flat +rock and there, crouching about it, for the mists were chilly, they had +their supper. + +In undertones Raven and Little Thunder conversed in the Indian speech. +The gay careless air of the trader had given place to one of keen, +purposeful determination. There was evidently serious business on foot. +Immediately after supper Little Thunder vanished into the mist. + +"We may as well make ourselves comfortable," said Raven, pulling a +couple of buffalo skins from a pack and giving one to Cameron. "Little +Thunder is gone to reconnoiter." He threw some sticks upon the fire. +"Better go to sleep," he suggested. "We shall probably visit the camp in +the morning if they should prove to be Stonies." + +Cameron made no reply, but, lying down upon his buffalo skin, pretended +to sleep, though with the firm resolve to keep awake. But he had passed +through an exhausting day and before many minutes had passed he fell +into a doze. + +From this he awoke with a start, his ears filled with the sound of +singing. Beyond the fire lay Raven upon his face, apparently sound +asleep. The singing came from the direction of the Indian camp. +Noiselessly he rose and stole up the trail to a point from which the +camp was plainly visible. A wonderful scene lay before his eyes. A great +fire burned in the centre of the camp and round the fire the whole band +of Indians was gathered with their squaws in the background. In the +centre of the circle stood a tall man with a venerable beard, apparently +reading. After he had read the sound of singing once more rose upon the +night air. + +"Stonies, all right," said Cameron exultantly to himself. "And at +evening prayers, too, by Jove." + +He remembered hearing McIvor tell how the Stonies never went on a +hunting expedition without their hymn books and never closed a day +without their evening worship. The voices were high-pitched and thin, +but from that distance they floated up soft and sweet. He could clearly +distinguish the music of the old Methodist hymn, the words of which were +quite familiar to him: + + "There is a fountain filled with blood + Drawn from Immanuel's veins; + And sinners plunged beneath that flood. + Lose all their guilty stains." + +Over and over again, with strange wild cadences of their own invention, +the worshippers wailed forth the refrain, + + "Lose all their guilty stains." + +Then, all kneeling, they went to prayer. Over all, the misty moon +struggling through the broken clouds cast a pale and ghostly light. It +was, to Cameron with his old-world religious conventions and traditions, +a weirdly fascinating but intensely impressive scene. Afar beyond the +valley, appeared in dim outline the great mountains, with their heads +thrust up into the sky. Nearer at their bases gathered the pines, at +first in solid gloomy masses, then, as they approached, in straggling +groups, and at last singly, like tall sentinels on guard. On the +grassy glade, surrounded by the sentinel pines, the circle of dusky +worshippers, kneeling about their camp fire, lifted their faces +heavenward and their hearts God-ward in prayer, and as upon those dusky +faces the firelight fell in fitful gleams, so upon their hearts, dark +with the superstitions of a hundred generations, there fell the gleams +of the torch held high by the hands of their dauntless ambassador of the +blessed Gospel of the Grace of God. + +With mingled feelings of reverence and of pity Cameron stood gazing down +upon this scene, resolved more than ever to attach himself to this camp +whose days closed with evening prayer. + +"Impressive scene!" said a mocking voice in his ear. + +Cameron started. A sudden feeling of repulsion seized him. + +"Yes," he said gravely, "an impressive scene, in my eyes at least, and I +should not wonder if in the eyes of God as well." + +"Who knows?" said Raven gruffly, as they both turned back to the fire. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE DULL RED STAIN + + +The minutes passed slowly. The scene in the camp of the Stonies that he +had just witnessed drove all sleep from Cameron. He was firmly resolved +that at the first opportunity he would make his break for liberty; for +he was now fully aware that though not confessedly he was none the less +really a prisoner. + +As he lay intently thinking, forming and discarding plans of escape, two +Indians, followed by Little Thunder, walked quietly within the circle of +the firelight and with a nod and a grunt towards Raven sat down by +the fire. Raven passed his tobacco bag, which, without a word, they +accepted; and, filling their pipes, they gravely began to smoke. + +"White Cloud," grunted Little Thunder, waving his hand to the first +Indian. "Big Chief. Him," pointing to the second Indian, "White Cloud +brother." + +"My brothers had good hunting this year," said Raven. + +The Indians grunted for reply. + +"Your packs are heavy?" + +Another grunt made answer. + +"We have much goods," continued Raven. "But the time is short. Come and +see." + +Raven led them out into the dark towards the pack horse, Little Thunder +remaining by the fire. From the darkness Cameron could hear Raven's +voice in low tones and the Indians' guttural replies mingled with +unusual laughter. + +When they returned the change in their appearance was plainly visible. +Their eyes were gleaming with an unnatural excitement, their grave +and dignified demeanour had given place to an eager, almost childish +excitement. Cameron did not need the whiff that came to him from their +breath to explain the cause of this sudden change. The signs were to him +only too familiar. + +"My brothers will need to hurry," said Raven. "We move when the moon is +high." + +"Good!" replied White Cloud. "Go, quick." He waved his hand toward the +dark. "Come." He brought it back again. "Heap quick." Without further +word they vanished, silent as the shadows that swallowed them up. + +"Now, then, Cameron, we have big business on foot. Up and give us a +hand. Little Thunder, take the bunch down the trail a couple of miles +and come back." + +Selecting one of the pack ponies, he tied it to a pine tree and the +others he hurried off with Little Thunder down the trail. + +"Going to do some trading, are you?" enquired Cameron. + +"Yes, if the price is right, though I'm not too keen," replied Raven, +throwing himself down beside the fire. + +"What are you after? Furs?" + +"Yes, furs mostly. Anything they have to offer." + +"What do you give in exchange?" + +Raven threw him a sharp glance, but Cameron's face was turned toward the +fire. + +"Oh, various articles. Wearing apparel, tobacco, finery. Molasses too. +They are very fond of molasses." + +"Molasses?" echoed Cameron, with a touch of scorn. "It was not molasses +they had to-night. Why did you give them whiskey?" he asked boldly. + +Raven started. His eyes narrowed to two piercing points. + +"Why? That's my business, my friend. I keep a flask to treat my guests +occasionally. Have you any objection?" + +"It is against the law, I understand, and mighty bad for the Indians." + +"Against the law?" echoed Raven in childlike surprise. "You don't tell +me!" + +"So the Mounted Police declare," said Cameron, turning his eyes upon +Raven's face. + +"The Mounted Police!" exclaimed Raven, pouring forth a flood of oaths. +"That! for the Mounted Police!" he said, snapping his fingers. + +"But," replied Cameron, "I understood you very especially to object to +the operations of the whiskey runners?" + +"Whiskey runners? Who's speaking of whiskey runners? I'm talking of +the approved method of treating our friends in this country, and if the +police should interfere between me and my friends they would be carrying +things a little too far. But all the same," he continued, hastily +checking himself, "the police are all right. They put down a lot of +lawlessness in this country. But I may as well say to you here, Mr. +Cameron," he continued, "that there are certain things it is best not to +see, or, having seen, to speedily forget." As he spoke these words his +eyes narrowed again to two grey points that seemed to bore right through +to Cameron's brain. + +"This man is a very devil," thought Cameron to himself. "I was a fool +not to see it before." But to the trader he said, "There are some things +I would rather not see and some things I cannot forget." + +Before another hour had passed the Stonies reappeared, this time on +ponies. The trader made no move to meet them. He sat quietly smoking by +the fire. Silently the Indians approached the fire and threw down a pack +of furs. + +"Huh!" said White Cloud. "Good! Ver good!" He opened his pack and spread +out upon the rock with impressive deliberation its contents. And good +they were, even to Cameron's uncultured eye. Wolf skins and bear, +cinnamon and black, beaver, fox, and mink, as well as some magnificent +specimens of mountain goat and sheep. "Good! Good! Big--fine--heap +good!" White Cloud continued to exclaim as he displayed his collection. + +Raven turned them over carelessly, feeling the furs, examining and +weighing the pelts. Then going to the pack horse he returned and spread +out upon the rock beside the furs the goods which he proposed to offer +in exchange. And a pitiful display it was, gaudy calicoes and flimsy +flannels, the brilliance of whose colour was only equalled by the +shoddiness of the material, cheap domestic blankets, half wool half +cotton, prepared especially for the Indian trade. These, with beads and +buttons, trinkets, whole strings of brass rings, rolls of tobacco, bags +of shot and powder, pot metal knives, and other articles, all bearing +the stamp of glittering fraud, constituted his stock for barter. +The Indians made strenuous efforts to maintain an air of dignified +indifference, but the glitter in their eyes betrayed their eagerness. +White Cloud picked up a goat skin, heavy with its deep silky fur and +with its rich splendour covered over the glittering mass of Raven's +cheap and tawdry stuff. + +"Good trade," said White Cloud. "Him," pointing to the skin, "and," +turning it back, "him," laying his hand upon the goods beneath. + +Raven smiled carelessly, pulled out a flask from his pocket, took a +drink and passed it to the others. Desperately struggling to suppress +his eagerness and to maintain his dignified bearing, White Cloud seized +the flask and, drinking long and deep, passed it to his brother. + +"Have a drink, Cameron," said Raven, as he received his flask again. + +"No!" said Cameron shortly. "And I would suggest to your friends that +they complete the trade before they drink much more." + +"My friend here says this is no good," said Raven to the Indians, +tapping the flask with his finger. "He says no more drink." + +White Cloud shot a keen enquiring glance at Cameron, but he made no +reply other than to stretch out his hand for Raven's flask again. Before +many minutes the efficacy of Raven's methods of barter began to be +apparent. The Indians lost their grave and dignified demeanour. They +became curious, eager, garrulous, and demonstrative. With childish glee +they began examining more closely Raven's supply of goods, trying on the +rings, draping themselves in the gaudy calicoes and flannels. At length +Raven rolled up his articles of barter and set them upon one side. + +"How much?" he said. + +White Cloud selected the goat skin, laid upon it some half dozen beaver +and mink, and a couple of foxes, and rolling them up in a pile laid them +beside Raven's bundle. + +The trader smiled and shook his head. "No good. No good." So saying he +took from his pack another flask and laid it upon his pile. + +Instantly the Indian increased his pile by a bear skin, a grey wolf, and +a mountain goat. Then, without waiting for Raven's words, he reached for +the flask. + +"No, not yet," said Raven quietly, laying his hand down upon the flask. + +The Indian with gleaming eyes threw on the pile some additional skins. + +"Good!" said Raven, surrendering the flask. Swiftly the Indian caught it +up and, seizing the cork in his teeth, bit it off close to the neck +of the flask. Snatching his knife from his pocket with almost frantic +energy, he proceeded to dig out the imbedded cork. + +"Here," said Raven, taking the flask from him. "Let me have it." From +his pocket he took a knife containing a corkscrew and with this he drew +the cork and handed the flask back to the Indian. + +With shameless, bestial haste the Indian placed the bottle to his lips +and after a long pull passed it to his waiting brother. + +At this point Raven rose as if to close the negotiations and took out +his own flask for a final drink, but found it empty. + +"Aha!" he exclaimed, turning the empty flask upside down. At once the +Indian passed him his flask. Raven, however, waved him aside and, going +to his pack, drew out a tin oil can which would contain about a gallon. +From this with great deliberation he filled his flask. + +"Huh!" exclaimed the Indian, pointing to the can. "How much?" + +Raven shook his head. "No sell. For me," he answered, tapping himself on +the breast. + +"How much?" said the Indian fiercely. + +Still Raven declined to sell. + +Swiftly the Indian gathered up the remaining half of his pack of furs +and, throwing them savagely at Raven's feet, seized the can. + +Still Raven refused to let it go. + +At this point the soft padding of a loping pony was heard coming up the +trail and in a few minutes Little Thunder silently took his place in +the circle about the fire. Cameron's heart sank within him, for now it +seemed as if his chance of escape had slipped from him. + +Raven spoke a few rapid words to Little Thunder, who entered into +conversation with the Stonies. At length White Cloud drew from his +coat a black fox skin. In spite of himself Raven uttered a slight +exclamation. It was indeed a superb pelt. With savage hate in every line +of his face and in every movement of his body, the Indian flung the skin +upon the pile of furs and without a "By your leave" seized the can and +passed it to his brother. + +At this point Raven, with a sudden display of reckless generosity, +placed his own flask upon the Indian's pile of goods. + +"Ask them if they want molasses," said Raven to Little Thunder. + +"No," grunted the Indian contemptuously, preparing to depart. + +"Ask them, Little Thunder." + +Immediately as Little Thunder began to speak the contemptuous attitude +of the Stonies gave place to one of keen interest and desire. After some +further talk Little Thunder went to the pack-pony, returned bearing a +small keg and set it on the rock beside Raven's pile of furs. Hastily +the Stonies consulted together, White Cloud apparently reluctant, the +brother recklessly eager to close the deal. Finally with a gesture White +Cloud put an end to the conversation, stepped out hastily into the +dark and returned leading his pony into the light. Cutting asunder the +lashings with his knife, he released a bundle of furs and threw it down +at Raven's feet. + +"Same ting. Good!" he said. + +But Raven would not look at the bundle and proceeded to pack up the +spoils of his barter. Earnestly the Stonies appealed to Little Thunder, +but in vain. Angrily they remonstrated, but still without result. At +length Little Thunder pointed to the pony and without hesitation White +Cloud placed the bridle rein in his hands. + +Cameron could contain himself no longer. Suddenly rising from his place +he strode to the side of the Indians and cried, "Don't do it! Don't be +such fools! This no good," he said, kicking the keg. "What would Mr. +Macdougall say? Come! I go with you. Take back these furs." + +He stepped forward to seize the second pack. Swiftly Little Thunder +leaped before him, knife in hand, and crouched to spring. The Stonies +had no doubt as to his meaning. Their hearts were filled with black +rage against the unscrupulous trader, but their insane thirst for the +"fire-water" swept from their minds every other consideration but that +of determination to gratify this mad lust. Unconsciously they ranged +themselves beside Cameron, their hands going to their belts. Quietly +Raven spoke a few rapid words to Little Thunder, who, slowly putting +up his knife, made a brief but vigourous harangue to the Stonies, the +result of which was seen in the doubtful glances which they cast upon +Cameron from time to time. + +"Come on!" cried Cameron again, laying his hand upon the nearest Indian. +"Let's go to your camp. Take your furs. He is a thief, a robber, a +bad man. All that," sweeping his hand towards Raven's goods, "no good. +This," kicking the keg, "bad. Kill you." + +These words they could not entirely understand, but his gestures were +sufficiently eloquent and significant. There was an ugly gleam in +Raven's eyes and an ugly curl to his thin lips, but he only smiled. + +"Come," he said, waving his hand toward the furs, "take them away. Tell +them we don't want to trade, Little Thunder." He pulled out his flask, +slowly took a drink, and passed it to Little Thunder, who greedily +followed his example. "Tell them we don't want to trade at all," +insisted Raven. + +Little Thunder volubly explained the trader's wishes. + +"Good-bye," said Raven, offering his hand to White Cloud. "Good +friends," he added, once more passing him his flask. + +"Don't!" said Cameron, laying his hand again upon the Indian's arm. For +a single instant White Cloud paused. + +"Huh!" grunted Little Thunder in contempt. "Big chief scared." + +Quickly the Stony shook off Cameron's hand, seized the flask and, +putting it to his lips, drained it dry. + +"Come," said Cameron to the other Stony. "Come with me." + +Raven uttered a warning word to Little Thunder. The Indians stood for +some moments uncertain, their heads bowed upon their breasts. Then White +Cloud, throwing back his head and looking Cameron full in the face, +said--"Good man. Good man. Me no go." + +"Then I go alone," cried Cameron, springing off into the darkness. + +As he turned his foot caught the pile of wood brought for the fire. +He tripped and stumbled almost to the ground. Before he could recover +himself Little Thunder, swift as a wildcat, leaped upon his back with +his ever-ready knife in his upraised hand, but before he could strike, +Cameron had turned himself and throwing the Indian off had struggled to +his feet. + +"Hold there!" cried Raven with a terrible oath, flinging himself upon +the struggling pair. + +A moment or two the Stonies hesitated, then they too seized Cameron and +between them all they bore him fighting to the ground. + +"Keep back! Keep back!" cried Raven in a terrible voice to Little +Thunder, who, knife in hand, was dancing round, seeking an opportunity +to strike. "Will you lie still, or shall I knock your head in?" said +Raven to Cameron through his clenched teeth, with one hand on his throat +and the other poising a revolver over his head. Cameron gave up the +struggle. + +"Speak and quick!" cried Raven, his face working with passion, his voice +thick and husky, his breath coming in quick gasps from the fury that +possessed him. + +"All right," said Cameron. "Let me up. You have beaten me this time." + +Raven sprang to his feet. + +"Let him up!" he said. "Now, then, Cameron, give me your word you won't +try to escape." + +"No, I will not! I'll see you hanged first," said Cameron. + +Raven deliberately drew his pistol and said slowly: + +"I have saved your life twice already, but the time is past for any more +trifling. Now you've got to take it." + +At this Little Thunder spoke a word, pointing toward the camp of the +Stonies. Raven hesitated, then with an oath he strode toward Cameron and +thrusting his pistol in his face said in tones of cold and concentrated +rage: + +"Listen to me, you fool! Your life is hanging by a hair trigger that +goes off with a feather touch. I give you one more chance. Move hand or +foot and the bullet in this gun will pass neatly through your eye. So +help me God Almighty!" + +He spoke to Little Thunder, still keeping Cameron covered with his gun. +The Indian slipped quietly behind Cameron and swiftly threw a line over +his shoulders and, drawing it tight, bound his arms to his side. Again +and again he repeated this operation till Cameron stood swathed in the +coils of the rope like a mummy, inwardly raging, not so much at his +captor, but at himself and his stupid bungling of his break for liberty. +His helpless and absurd appearance seemed to restore Raven's good +humour. + +"Now, then," he said, turning to the Stonies and resuming his careless +air, "we will finish our little business. Sit down, Mr. Cameron," he +continued, with a pleasant smile. "It may be less dignified, but it is +much more comfortable." + +Once more he took out his flask and passed it round, forgetting to take +it back from his Indian visitors, who continued to drink from it in +turn. + +"Listen," he said. "I give you all you see here for your furs and a pony +to pack them. That is my last word. Quick, yes or no? Tell them no more +trifling, Little Thunder. The moon is high. We start in ten minutes." + +There was no further haggling. The Indians seemed to recognise that the +time for that was past. After a brief consultation they grunted their +acceptance and proceeded to pack up their goods, but with no good will. +More vividly than any in the company they realised the immensity of the +fraud that was being perpetrated upon them. They were being robbed of +their whole winter's kill and that of some of their friends as well, +but they were helpless in the grip of their mad passion for the trader's +fire-water. Disgusted with themselves and filled with black rage against +the man who had so pitilessly stripped them bare of the profits of a +year's toil and privation, how gladly would they have put their knives +into his back, but they knew his sort by only too bitter experience and +they knew that at his hands they need expect no pity. + +"Here," cried Raven, observing their black looks. "A present for my +brothers." He handed them each a roll of tobacco. "And a present for +their squaws," adding a scarlet blanket apiece to their pack. + +Without a word of thanks they took the gifts and, loading their stuff +upon their remaining pony, disappeared down the trail. + +"Now, Little Thunder, let's get out of this, for once their old man +finds out he will be hot foot on our trail." + +With furious haste they fell to their packing. Cameron stood aghast at +the amazing swiftness and dexterity with which the packs were roped and +loaded. When all was complete the trader turned to Cameron in gay good +humour. + +"Now, Mr. Cameron, will you go passenger or freight?" Cameron made no +reply. "In other words, shall we pack you on your pony or will you ride +like a gentleman, giving me your word not to attempt to escape? Time +presses, so answer quick! Give me twenty-four hours. Give me your word +for twenty-four hours, after which you can go when you like." + +"I agree," said Cameron shortly. + +"Cut him loose, Little Thunder." Little Thunder hesitated. "Quick, +you fool! Cut him loose. I know a gentleman when I see him. He is tied +tighter than with ropes." + +"It is a great pity," he continued, addressing Cameron in a pleasant +conversational tone as they rode down the trail together, "that you +should have made an ass of yourself for those brutes. Bah! What odds? +Old Macdougall or some one else would get their stuff sooner or later. +Why not I? Come, cheer up. You are jolly well out of it, for, God knows, +you may live to look death in the face many a time, but never while +you live will you be so near touching the old sport as you were a few +minutes ago. Why I have interfered to save you these three times blessed +if I know! Many a man's bones have been picked by the coyotes in these +hills for a fraction of the provocation you have given me, not to speak +of Little Thunder, who is properly thirsting for your blood. But take +advice from me," here he leaned over towards Cameron and touched him on +the shoulder, while his voice took a sterner tone, "don't venture on any +further liberties with him." + +Suddenly Cameron's rage blazed forth. + +"Now perhaps you will listen to me," he said in a voice thrilling with +passion. "First of all, keep your hands off me. As for your comrade and +partner in crime, I fear him no more than I would a dog and like a dog +I shall treat him if he dares to attack me again. As for you, you are a +coward and a cad. You have me at a disadvantage. But put down your guns +and fight me on equal terms, and I will make you beg for your life!" + +There was a gleam of amused admiration in Raven's eyes. + +"By Jove! It would be a pretty fight, I do believe, and one I should +greatly enjoy. At present, however, time is pressing and therefore that +pleasure we must postpone. Meantime I promise you that when it comes it +will be on equal terms." + +"I ask no more," said Cameron. + +There was no further conversation, for Raven appeared intent on putting +as large a space as possible between himself and the camp of the +Stonies. The discovery of the fraud he knew would be inevitable and he +knew, too, that George Macdougall was not the man to allow his flock to +be fleeced with impunity. + +So before the grey light of morning began to steal over the mountaintops +Raven, with his bunch of ponies and his loot, was many miles forward +on his journey. But the endurance even of bronchos and cayuses has its +limit, and their desperate condition from hunger and fatigue rendered +food and rest imperative. + +The sun was fully up when Raven ordered a halt, and in a sunny valley, +deep with grass, unsaddling the wearied animals, he turned them loose to +feed and rest. Apparently careless of danger and highly contented +with their night's achievement, he and his Indian partner abandoned +themselves to sleep. Cameron, too, though his indignation and chagrin +prevented sleep for a time, was finally forced to yield to the genial +influences of the warm sun and the languid airs of the spring day, and, +firmly resolving to keep awake, he fell into dreamless slumber. + +The sun was riding high noon when he was awakened by a hand upon his +arm. It was Raven. + +"Hush!" he said. "Not a word. Mount and quick!" + +Looking about Cameron observed that the pack horses were ready loaded +and Raven standing by his broncho ready to mount. Little Thunder was +nowhere to be seen. + +"What's up?" said Cameron. + +For answer Raven pointed up the long sloping trail down which they had +come. There three horsemen could be seen riding hard, but still distant +more than half a mile. + +"Saw them three miles away, luckily enough," said Raven. + +"Where's Little Thunder?" enquired Cameron. + +"Oh, rounding up the bunch," answered Raven carelessly, waving his hand +toward the valley. "Those men are coming some," he added, swinging into +his saddle. + +As he spoke a rifle shot shattered the stillness of the valley. The +first of the riders threw up his hands, clutched wildly at the vacant +air and pitched headlong out of the saddle. "Good God! What's that?" +gasped Cameron. The other two wheeled in their course. Before they could +turn a second shot rang out and another of the riders fell upon his +horse's neck, clung there for a moment, then gently slid to the ground. +The third, throwing himself over the side of his pony, rode back for +dear life. + +A third and a fourth shot were heard, but the fleeing rider escaped +unhurt. + +"What does that mean?" again asked Cameron, weak and sick with horror. + +"Mount!" yelled Raven with a terrible oath and flourishing a revolver +in his hand. "Mount quick!" His face was pale, his eyes burned with a +fierce glare, while his voice rang with the blast of a bugle. + +"Lead those pack horses down that trail!" he yelled, thrusting the line +into Cameron's hand. "Quick, I tell you!" + +"Crack-crack!" Twice a bullet sang savagely past Cameron's ears. + +"Quicker!" shouted Raven, circling round the bunch of ponies with wild +cries and oaths like a man gone mad. Again and again the revolver spat +wickedly and here and there a pony plunged recklessly forward, nicked +in the ear by one of those venomous singing pellets. Helpless to +defend himself and expecting every moment to feel the sting of a bullet +somewhere in his body, Cameron hurried his pony with all his might down +the trail, dragging the pack animals after him. In huddled confusion the +terrified brutes followed after him in a mad rush, for hard upon their +rear, like a beast devil-possessed, Nighthawk pressed, biting, kicking, +squealing, to the accompaniment of his rider's oaths and yells and +pistol shots. Down the long sloping trail to the very end of the valley +the mad rush continued. There the ascent checked the fury of the speed +and forced a quieter pace. But through the afternoon there was no +weakening of the pressure from the rear till the evening shadows and the +frequent falling of the worn-out beasts forced a slackening of the pace +and finally a halt. + +Sick with horror and loathing, Cameron dismounted and unsaddled his +broncho. He had hardly finished this operation when Little Thunder +rode up upon a strange pony, leading a beautiful white broncho behind. +Cameron could not repress an exclamation of disgust as the Indian drew +near him. + +"Beautiful beast that," said Raven carelessly, pointing to the white +pony. + +Cameron turned his eyes upon the pony and stood transfixed with horror. + +"My God!" he exclaimed. "Look at that!" Across the beautiful white +shoulders and reaching down clear to the fetlock there ran a broad +stain, dull red and horrible. Then through his teeth, hard clenched +together, these words came forth: "Some day, by God's help, I shall wipe +out that stain." + +The trader shrugged his shoulders carelessly, but made no reply. + + + +CHAPTER V + +SERGEANT CRISP + + +The horror of the day followed Cameron through the night and awoke with +him next morning. Every time his eyes found the Indian his teeth came +together in a grinding rage as he repeated his vow, "Some day I shall +bring you to justice. So help me God!" + +Against Raven somehow he could not maintain the same heat of rage. That +he was a party to the murder of the Stonies there was little reason +to doubt, but as all next day they lay in the sunny glade resting the +ponies, or went loping easily along the winding trails making ever +towards the Southwest, the trader's cheerful face, his endless tales, +and his invincible good humour stole from Cameron's heart, in spite of +his firm resolve, the fierceness of his wrath. But the resolve was none +the less resolute that one day he would bring this man to justice. + +As they journeyed on, the woods became more open and the trees larger. +Mid-day found them resting by a little lake, from which a stream flowed +into the upper reaches of the Columbia River. + +"We shall make the Crow's Nest trail by to-morrow night," said Raven, +"where we shall part; not to your very great sorrow, I fancy, either." + +The evening before Cameron would have said, "No, but to my great joy," +and it vexed him that he could not bring himself to say so to-day with +any great show of sincerity. There was a charm about this man that he +could not resist. + +"And yet," continued Raven, allowing his eyes to rest dreamily upon the +lake, "in other circumstances I might have found in you an excellent +friend, and a most rare and valuable find that is." + +"That it is!" agreed Cameron, thinking of his old football captain, "but +one cannot make friends with a--" + +"It is an ugly word, I know," said Raven. "But, after all, what is a +bunch of furs more or less to those Indians?" + +"Furs?" exclaimed Cameron in horror. "What are the lives of these men?" + +"Oh," replied Raven carelessly, "these Indians are always getting killed +one way or another. It is all in the day's work with them. They pick +each other off without query or qualm. Besides, Little Thunder has +a grudge of very old standing against the Stonies, whom he heartily +despises, and he doubtless enjoys considerable satisfaction from the +thought that he has partially paid it. It will be his turn next, like +as not, for they won't let this thing sleep. Or perhaps mine!" he added +after a pause. "The man is doubtless on the trail at this present minute +who will finally get me." + +"Then why expose yourself to such a fate?" said Cameron. "Surely in this +country a man can live an honest life and prosper." + +"Honest life? I doubt it! What is an honest life? Does any Indian trader +lead an honest life? Do the Hudson Bay traders, or I. G. Baker's people, +or any of them do the honest thing by the Indian they trade with? In +the long run it is a question of the police. What escapes the police is +honest. The crime, after all, is in getting caught." + +"Oh, that is too old!" said Cameron. "You know you are talking rot." + +"Quite right! It is rot," assented Raven. "The whole business is rot. +'Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher.' Oh, I know the Book, you +see. I was not born a--a--an outlaw." The grey-brown eyes had in them +a wistful look. "Bah!" he exclaimed, springing to his feet and shaking +himself. "The sight of your Edinburgh face and the sound of your +Edinburgh speech and your old country ways and manners have got on my +recollection works, and I believe that accounts for you being alive +to-day, old man." + +He whistled to his horse. Nighthawk came trotting and whinneying to him. + +"I have one friend in the world, old boy," he said, throwing his arm +over the black, glossy neck and searching his pocket for a biscuit. "And +even you," he added bitterly, "I fear do not love me for naught." + +Saddling his horse, he mounted and calling Little Thunder to him said: + +"Take the bunch on as far as the Big Canyon and wait there for me. I am +going back a bit. It is better to be sure than sorry. Cameron, your +best route lies with us. Your twenty-four hours' parole is already up. +To-morrow, perhaps to-night, I shall put you on the Macleod trail. You +are a free man, but don't try to make any breaks when I am gone. My +friend here is extremely prompt with his weapons. Farewell! Get a move +on, Little Thunder! Cameron will bring up the rear." + +He added some further words in the Indian tongue, his voice taking a +stern tone. Little Thunder grunted a surly and unwilling acquiescence, +and, waving his hand to Cameron, the trader wheeled his horse up the +trail. + +In spite of himself Cameron could not forbear a feeling of pity and +admiration as he watched the lithe, upright figure swaying up the +trail, his every movement in unison with that of the beautiful demon +he bestrode. But with all his pity and admiration he was none the less +resolved that he would do what in him lay to bring these two to justice. + +"This ugly devil at least shall swing!" he said to himself as he turned +his eyes upon Little Thunder getting his pack ponies out upon the trail. +This accomplished, the Indian, pointing onward, said gruffly, + +"You go in front--me back." + +"Not much!" cried Cameron. "You heard the orders from your chief. You go +in front. I bring up the rear. I do not know the trail." + +"Huh! Trail good," grunted Little Thunder, the red-rimmed eyes gleaming +malevolently. "You go front--me back." He waved his hand impatiently +toward the trail. Following the direction of his hand, Cameron's eyes +fell upon the stock of his own rifle protruding from a pack upon one of +the ponies. For a moment the protruding stock held his eyes fascinated. + +"Huh!" said the Indian, noting Cameron's glance, and slipping off his +pony. In an instant both men were racing for the pack and approaching +each other at a sharp angle. Arrived at striking distance, the Indian +leaped at Cameron, with his knife, as was his wont, ready to strike. + +The appearance of the Indian springing at him seemed to set some of the +grey matter in Cameron's brain moving along old tracks. Like a flash he +dropped to his knees in an old football tackle, caught the Indian by +the legs and tossed him high over his shoulders, then, springing to +his feet, he jerked the rifle free from the pack and stood waiting for +Little Thunder's attack. + +But the Indian lay without sound or motion. Cameron used his opportunity +to look for his cartridge belt, which, after a few minutes' anxious +search, he discovered in the pack. He buckled the belt about him, made +sure his Winchester held a shell, and stood waiting. + +That he should be waiting thus with the deliberate purpose of shooting +down a fellow human being filled him with a sense of unreality. But +the events of the last forty-eight hours had created an entirely new +environment, and with extraordinary facility his mind had adjusted +itself to this environment, and though two days before he would have +shrunk in horror from the possibility of taking a human life, he knew +as he stood there that at the first sign of attack he should shoot the +Indian down like a wild beast. + +Slowly Little Thunder raised himself to a sitting posture and looked +about in dazed surprise. As his mind regained its normal condition there +deepened in his eyes a look of cunning hatred. With difficulty he rose +to his feet and stood facing Cameron. Cameron waited quietly, watching +his every move. + +"You go in front!" at length commanded Cameron. "And no nonsense, mind +you," he added, tapping his rifle, "or I shoot quick." + +The Indian might not have understood all Cameron's words, but he was in +no doubt as to his meaning. It was characteristic of his race that he +should know when he was beaten and stoically accept defeat for the time +being. Without further word or look he led off his pack ponies, while +Cameron took his place at the rear. + +But progress was slow. Little Thunder was either incapable of rapid +motion or sullenly indifferent to any necessity for it. Besides, there +was no demoniacal dynamic forcing the beasts on from the rear. They had +not been more than three hours on the trail when Cameron heard behind +him the thundering of hoofs. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw coming +down upon him Raven, riding as if pursued by a thousand demons. The +condition of his horse showed that the race had been long and hard; his +black satin skin was dripping as if he had come through a river, his +eyes were bloodshot and starting from his head, his mouth was wide open +and from it in large clots the foam had fallen upon his neck and chest. + +Past Cameron and down upon Little Thunder Raven rushed like a whirlwind, +yelling with wild oaths the while, + +"Get on! Get on! What are you loafing about here for?" + +A few vehement directions to the Indian and he came thundering back upon +Cameron. + +"What have you been doing?" he cried with an oath. "Why are you not +miles on? Get on! Move! Move!! Move!!!" At every yell he hurled his +frenzied broncho upon the ponies which brought up the rear, and in a few +minutes had the whole cavalcade madly careering down the sloping trail. +Wilder and wilder grew the pace. Turning a sharp corner round a jutting +rock a pack pony stumbled and went crashing fifty feet to the rock +below. "On! On!" yelled Raven, emptying his gun into the struggling +animal as he passed. More and more difficult became the road until at +length it was impossible to keep up the pace. + +"We cannot make it! We cannot make it!" muttered Raven with bitter +oaths. "Oh, the cursed fools! Another two miles would do it!" + +At length they came to a spot where the trail touched a level bench. + +"Halt!" yelled the trader, as he galloped to the head of the column. +A few minutes he spent in rapid and fierce consultation with Little +Thunder and then came raging back. "We are going to get this bunch down +into the valley there," he shouted, pointing to the thick timber at the +bottom. "I do not expect your help, but I ask you to remain where +you are for the present. And let me assure you this is no moment for +trifling." + +With extraordinary skill and rapidity Little Thunder managed to lead +first the pack ponies and then the others, one by one, at intervals, +off the trail as they went onward, taking infinite pains to cover their +tracks at the various points of departure. While this was being done the +trader stood shouting directions and giving assistance with a fury of +energy that seemed to communicate itself to the very beasts. But the +work was one of great difficulty and took many minutes to accomplish. + +"Half an hour more, just half an hour! Fifteen minutes!" he kept +muttering. "Just a short fifteen minutes and all would be well." + +As the last pony disappeared into the woods Raven turned to Cameron and +with a smile said quietly, + +"There, that's done. Now you are free. Here we part. This is your trail. +It will take you to Macleod. I am sorry, however, that owing to a change +in circumstances for which I am not responsible I must ask you for that +rifle." With the swiftness of a flash of light he whipped his gun into +Cameron's face. "Don't move!" he said, still smiling. "This gun of mine +never fails. Quick, don't look round. Yes, those hoof beats are our +friends the police. Quick! It is your life or mine. I'd hate to kill +you, Cameron. I give you one chance more." + +There was no help for it, and Cameron, with his heart filled with futile +fury, surrendered his rifle. + +"Now ride in front of me a little way. They have just seen us, but they +don't know that we are aware of their presence. Ride! Ride! A little +faster!" Nighthawk rushed upon Cameron's lagging pony. "There, that's +better." + +A shout fell upon their ears. + +"Go right along!" said Raven quietly. "Only a few minutes longer, then +we part. I have greatly enjoyed your company." + +Another shout. + +"Aha!" said Raven, glancing round. "It is, I verily believe it is my old +friend Sergeant Crisp. Only two of them, by Jove! If we had only known +we need not have hurried." + +Another shout, followed by a bullet that sang over their heads. + +"Ah, this is interesting--too interesting by half! Well, here goes for +you, sergeant!" He wheeled as he spoke. Turning swiftly in his saddle, +Cameron saw him raise his rifle. + +"Hold up, you devil!" he shouted, throwing his pony across the black +broncho's track. + +The rifle rang out, the police horse staggered, swayed, and pitched to +the earth, bringing his rider down with him. + +"Ah, Cameron, that was awkward of you," said Raven gently. "However, it +is perhaps as well. Goodbye, old man. Tell the sergeant not to follow. +Trails hereabout are dangerous and good police sergeants are scarce. +Again farewell." He swung his broncho off the trail and, waving his +hand, with a smile, disappeared into the thick underbrush. + +"Hold up your hands!" shouted the police officer, who had struggled +upright and was now swaying on his feet and covering Cameron with his +carbine. + +"Hurry! Hurry!" cried Cameron, springing from his pony and waving his +hands wildly in the air. "Come on. You'll get him yet." + +"Stand where you are and hold up your hands!" cried the sergeant. + +Cameron obeyed, shouting meanwhile wrathfully, "Oh, come on, you bally +fool! You are losing him. Come on, I tell you!" + +"Keep your hands up or I shoot!" cried the sergeant sternly. + +"All right," said Cameron, holding his hands high, "but for God's sake +hurry up!" He ran towards the sergeant as he spoke, with his hands still +above his head. + +"Halt!" shouted the sergeant, as Cameron came near. "Constable Burke, +arrest that man!" + +"Oh, come, get it over," cried Cameron in a fury of passion. "Arrest me, +of course, but if you want to catch that chap you'll have to hurry. He +cannot be far away." + +"Ah, indeed, my man," said the sergeant pleasantly. "He is not far +away?" + +"No, he's a murderer and a thief and you can catch him if you hurry." + +"Ah! Very good, very good! Constable Burke, tie this man up to your +saddle and we'll take a look round. How many might there be in your +gang?" enquired the sergeant. "Tell the truth now. It will be the better +for you." + +"One," said Cameron impatiently. "A chap calling himself Raven." + +"Raven, eh?" exclaimed Sergeant Crisp with a new interest. "Raven, by +Jove!" + +"Yes, and an Indian. Little Thunder he called him." + +"Little Thunder! Jove, what a find!" exclaimed the sergeant. + +"Yes," continued Cameron eagerly. "Raven is just ahead in the woods +there alone and the Indian is further back with a bunch of ponies down +in the river bottom." + +"Oh, indeed! Very interesting! And so Raven is all alone in the scrub +there, waiting doubtless to give himself up," said sergeant Crisp with +fine sarcasm. "Well, we are not yet on to your game, young man, but we +will not just play up to that lead yet a while." + +In vain Cameron raged and pleaded and stormed and swore, telling his +story in incoherent snatches, to the intense amusement of Sergeant Crisp +and his companion. At length Cameron desisted, swallowing his rage as +best he could. + +"Now then, we shall move on. The pass is not more than an hour away. We +will put this young man in safe keeping and return for Mr. Raven and his +interesting friend." For a moment he stood looking down upon his horse. +"Poor old chap!" he said. "We have gone many a mile together on Her +Majesty's errands. If I have done my duty as faithfully as you have done +yours I need not fear my record. Take his saddle and bridle off, Burke. +We've got one of the gang. Some day we shall come up with Mr. Raven +himself." + +"Yes," said Cameron with passionate bitterness. "And that might be +to-day if you had only listened to me. Why, man," he shouted with +reviving rage, "we three could take him even yet!" + +"Ah!" said Sergeant Crisp, "so we could." + +"You had him in your hands to-day," said Cameron, "but like a fool you +let him go. But some day, so help me God, I shall bring these murderers +to justice." + +"Ah!" said Sergeant Crisp again. "Good! Very good indeed! Now, my man, +march!" + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A DAY IN THE MACLEOD BARRACKS + + +"What's this, Sergeant Crisp?" The Commissioner, a tall, slight, and +soldier-like man, keen-eyed and brisk of speech, rapped out his words +like a man intent on business. + +"One of a whiskey gang, Sir. Dick Raven's, I suspect." + +"And the charge?" + +"Whiskey trading, theft, and murder." + +The Commissioner's face grew grave. + +"Murder? Where did you find him?" + +"Kootenay trail, Sir. Got wind of him at Calgary, followed up the clue +past Morleyville, then along the Kootenay trail. A blizzard came on and +we feared we had lost them. We fell in with a band of Stony Indians, +found that the band had been robbed and two of their number murdered." + +"Two murdered?" The Commissioner's voice was stern. + +"Yes, Sir. Shot down in cold blood. We have the testimony of an eye +witness. We followed the trail and came upon two of them. My horse was +shot. One of them escaped; this man we captured." + +The Commissioner sat pondering. Then with disconcerting swiftness he +turned upon the prisoner. + +"Your name?" + +"Cameron, Sir." + +"Where from?" + +"I was working in McIvor's survey camp near Morleyville. I went out +shooting, lost my way in a blizzard, was captured by a man who called +himself Raven--" + +"Wait!" said the Commissioner sharply. "Bring me that file!" + +The orderly brought a file from which the Commissioner selected a +letter. His keen eyes rapidly scanned the contents and then ran over the +prisoner from head to foot. Thereupon, without a moment's hesitation, he +said curtly: + +"Release the prisoner!" + +"But, Sir--" began Sergeant Crisp, with an expression of utter +bewilderment and disgust upon his face. + +"Release the prisoner!" repeated the Commissioner sharply. "Mr. Cameron, +I deeply regret this mistake. Under the circumstances it could hardly +have been avoided. You were in bad company, you see. I am greatly +pleased that my men have been of service to you. We shall continue to +do all we can for you. In the meantime I am very pleased to have the +pleasure of meeting you." He passed the letter to Sergeant Crisp. "I +have information about you from Morleyville, you see. Now tell us all +about it." + +It took Cameron some moments to recover his wits, so dumbfounded was he +at the sudden change in his condition. + +"Well, Sir," he began, "I hardly know what to say." + +"Sit down, sit down, Mr. Cameron. Take your time," said the +Commissioner. "We are somewhat hurried these days, but you must have had +some trying experiences." + +Then Cameron proceeded with his tale. The Commissioner listened with +keen attention, now and then arresting him with a question or a comment. +When Cameron came to tell of the murder of the Stonies his voice shook +with passion. + +"We will get that Indian some day," said the Commissioner, "never fear. +What is his name?" + +"Little Thunder, Raven called him. And I would like to take a hand in +that too, Sir," said Cameron eagerly. + +"You would, eh?" said the Commissioner with a sharp look at him. "Well, +we'll see. Little Thunder," he repeated to himself. "Bring that Record +Book!" + +The orderly laid a large canvas-covered book before him. + +"Little Thunder, eh?" he repeated, turning the leaves of the book. +"Oh, yes, I thought so! Blood Indian--formerly Chief--supplanted by Red +Crow--got into trouble with whiskey traders. Yes, I remember. He is at +his old tricks. This time, however, he has gone too far. We will get +him. Go on, Mr. Cameron!" + +When Cameron had concluded his story the Commissioner said to the +orderly sharply: + +"Send me Inspector Dickson!" + +In a few moments Inspector Dickson appeared, a tall, slight man, with a +gentle face and kindly blue eyes. + +"Inspector Dickson, how are we for men? Can you spare two or three to +round up a gang of whiskey traders and to run down a murderer? We are on +the track of Raven's bunch, I believe." + +"We are very short-handed at present, Sir. This half-breed trouble in +the north is keeping our Indians all very restless. We must keep in +touch with them." + +"Yes, yes, I know. By the way, how are the Bloods just now?" + +"They are better, Sir, but the Blackfeet are restless and uneasy. There +are a lot of runners from the east among them." + +"How is old Crowfoot behaving?" + +"Crowfoot himself is apparently all right so far, but of course no man +can tell what Crowfoot is thinking." + +"That's right enough," replied the Commissioner. + +"By the way, Sir, it was Crowfoot's son that got into that trouble last +night with that Macleod man. The old Chief is in town, too, in fact is +outside just now and quite worked up over the arrest." + +"Well, we will settle this Crowfoot business in a few minutes. Now, +about this Raven gang. You cannot go yourself with a couple of men? He +is an exceedingly clever rascal." + +The Inspector enumerated the cases immediately pressing. + +"Well then, at the earliest possible moment we must get after this +gang. Keep this in mind, Inspector Dickson. That Indian I consider an +extremely dangerous man. He is sure to be mixed up with this half-breed +trouble. He has very considerable influence with a large section of the +Bloods. I shouldn't be surprised if we should find him on their reserve +before very long. Now then, bring in young Crowfoot!" + +The Inspector saluted and retired, followed by Sergeant Crisp, whose +face had not yet regained its normal expression. + +"Mr. Cameron," said the Commissioner, "if you care to remain with me for +the morning I shall be glad to have you. The administration of justice +by the police may prove interesting to you. Later on we shall discuss +your return to your camp." + +Cameron expressed his delight at being permitted to remain in the court +room, not only that he might observe the police methods of administering +justice, but especially that he might see something of the great +Blackfeet Chief, Crowfoot, of whom he had heard much since his arrival +in the West. + +In a few minutes Inspector Dickson returned, followed by a constable +leading a young Indian, handcuffed. With these entered Jerry, the famous +half-breed interpreter, and last of all the father of the prisoner, old +Crowfoot, tall, straight, stately. One swift searching glance the old +Chief flung round the room, and then, acknowledging the Commissioner's +salute with a slight wave of the hand and a grunt, and declining the +seat offered him, he stood back against the wall and there viewed the +proceedings with an air of haughty defiance. + +The Commissioner lost no time in preliminaries. The charge was read and +explained to the prisoner. The constable made his statement. The young +Indian had got into an altercation with a citizen of Macleod, and on +being hard pressed had pulled the pistol which was laid upon the +desk. There was no defense. The interpreter, however, explained, after +conversation with the prisoner, that drink was the cause. At this point +the old Chief's face swiftly changed. Defiance gave place to disgust, +grief, and rage. + +The Commissioner, after carefully eliciting all the facts, gave the +prisoner an opportunity to make a statement. This being declined, the +Commissioner proceeded gravely to point out the serious nature of the +offense, to emphasize the sacredness of human life and declare the +determination of the government to protect all Her Majesty's subjects, +no matter what their race or the colour of their skin. He then went +on to point out the serious danger which the young man had so narrowly +escaped. + +"Why, man," exclaimed the Commissioner, "you might have committed +murder." + +Here the young fellow said something to the interpreter. There was a +flicker of a smile on the half-breed's face. + +"He say dat pistol he no good. He can't shoot. He not loaded." + +The Commissioner's face never changed a line. He gravely turned the +pistol over in his hand, and truly enough the rusty weapon appeared to +be quite innocuous except to the shooter. + +"This is an extremely dangerous weapon. Why, it might have killed +yourself--if it had been loaded. We cannot allow this sort of thing. +However, since it was not loaded we shall make the sentence light. I +sentence you to one month's confinement." + +The interpreter explained the sentence to the young Indian, who received +the explanation without the movement of a muscle or the flicker of an +eyelid. The constable touched him on the shoulder and said, "Come!" + +Before he could move old Crowfoot with two strides stood before the +constable, and waving him aside with a gesture of indescribable dignity, +took his son in his arms and kissed him on either cheek. Then, stepping +back, he addressed him in a voice grave, solemn, and vibrant with +emotion. Jerry interpreted to the Court. + +"I have observed the big Chief. This is good medicine. It is good that +wrong should suffer. All good men are against wickedness. My son, you +have done foolishly. You have darkened my eyes. You have covered my face +before my people. They will ask--where is your son? My voice will be +silent. My face will be covered with shame. I shall be like a dog kicked +from the lodge. My son, I told you to go only to the store. I warned you +against bad men and bad places. Your ears were closed, you were wiser +than your father. Now we both must suffer, you here shut up from the +light of the sky, I in my darkened lodge. But," he continued, turning +swiftly upon the Commissioner, "I ask my father why these bad men who +sell whiskey to the poor Indian are not shut up with my son. My son is +young. He is like the hare in the woods. He falls easily into the trap. +Why are not these bad men removed?" The old Chief's face trembled with +indignant appeal. + +"They shall be!" said the Commissioner, smiting the desk with his fist. +"This very day!" + +"It is good!" continued the old Chief with great dignity. Then, turning +again to his son, he said, and his voice was full of grave tenderness: + +"Now, go to your punishment. The hours will be none too long if they +bring you wisdom." Again he kissed his son on both cheeks and, without a +look at any other, stalked haughtily from the room. + +"Inspector Dickson," sharply commanded the Commissioner, "find out the +man that sold that whiskey and arrest him at once!" + +Cameron was profoundly impressed with the whole scene. He began to +realise as never before the tremendous responsibilities that lay upon +those charged with the administration of justice in this country. He +began to understand, too, the secret of the extraordinary hold that the +Police had upon the Indian tribes and how it came that so small a force +could maintain the "Pax Britannica" over three hundred thousand square +miles of unsettled country, the home of hundreds of wild adventurers +and of thousands of savage Indians, utterly strange to any rule or law +except that of their own sweet will. + +"This police business is a big affair," he ventured to say to the +Commissioner when the court room was cleared. "You practically run the +country." + +"Well," said the Commissioner modestly, "we do something to keep the +country from going to the devil. We see that every man gets a fair +show." + +"It is great work!" exclaimed Cameron. + +"Yes, I suppose it is," replied the Commissioner. "We don't talk about +it, of course. Indeed, we don't think of it. But," he continued, "that +blue book there could tell a story that would make the old Empire not +too ashamed of the men who 'ride the line' and patrol the ranges in this +far outpost." He opened the big canvas-bound book as he spoke and turned +the pages over. "Look at that for a page," he said, and Cameron glanced +over the entries. What a tale they told! + +"Fire-fighting!" + +"Yes," said the Commissioner, "that saved a settler's wife and child--a +prairie fire. The house was lost, but the constable pulled them out and +got rather badly burned in the business." + +Cameron's finger ran down the page. + +"Sick man transported to Post." + +"That," commented the Superintendent, "was a journey of over two hundred +miles by dog sleighs in winter. Saved the man's life." + +And so the record ran. "Cattle thieves arrested." "Whiskey smugglers +captured." "Stolen horses recovered." "Insane man brought to Post." + +"That was rather a tough case," said the Commissioner. "Meant a journey +of some eight hundred miles with a man, a powerful man too, raving mad." + +"How many of your men on that journey?" enquired Cameron. + +"Oh, just one. The fellow got away twice, but was recaptured and finally +landed. Got better too. But the constable was all broken up for weeks +afterwards." + +"Man, that was great!" exclaimed Cameron. "What a pity it should not be +known." + +"Oh," said the Commissioner lightly, "it's all in the day's duty." + +The words thrilled Cameron to the heart. "All in the day's duty!" The +sheer heroism of it, the dauntless facing of Nature's grimmest terrors, +the steady patience, the uncalculated sacrifice, the thought of all that +lay behind these simple words held him silent for many minutes as he +kept turning over the leaves. + +As he sat thus turning the leaves and allowing his eye to fall upon +those simple but eloquent entries, a loud and strident voice was heard +outside. + +"Waal, I tell yuh, I want to see him right naow. I ain't come two +hundred miles for nawthin'. I mean business, I do." + +The orderly's voice was heard in reply. + +"I ain't got no time to wait. I want to see yer Chief of Police right +naow." + +Again the orderly's voice could be distinguished. + +"In court, is he? Waal, you hurry up and tell him J. B. Cadwaller of +Lone Pine, Montana, an American citizen, wants to see him right smart." + +The orderly came in and saluted. + +"A man to see you, Sir," he said. "An American." + +"What business?" + +"Horse-stealing case, Sir." + +"Show him in!" + +In a moment the orderly returned, followed by, not one, but three +American citizens. + +"Good-day, Jedge! My name's J. B. Cadwaller, Lone Pine, Montana. I--" + +"Take your hat off in the court!" said the orderly sharply. + +Mr. Cadwaller slowly surveyed the orderly with an expression of +interested curiosity in his eyes, removing his hat as he did so. + +"Say, you're pretty swift, ain't yuh? You might give a feller a show +to git in his interductions," said Mr. Cadwaller. "I was jes goin' to +interdooce to you, Jedge, these gentlemen from my own State, District +Attorney Hiram S. Sligh and Mr. Rufus Raimes, rancher." + +The Commissioner duly acknowledged the introduction, standing to receive +the strangers with due courtesy. + +"Now, Jedge, I want to see yer Chief of Police. I've got a case for +him." + +"I have the honor to be the Commissioner. What can I do for you?" + +"Waal, Jedge, we don't want to waste no time, neither yours nor ours. +The fact is some of yer blank blank Indians have been rustlin' hosses +from us fer some time back. We don't mind a cayuse now and then, but +when it comes to a hull bunch of vallable hosses there's where we kick +and we ain't goin' to stand fer it. And we want them hosses re-stored. +And what's more, we want them blank blank copper snakes strung up." + +"How many horses have you lost?" + +"How many? Jeerupiter! Thirty or forty fer all I know, they've been +rustlin' 'em for a year back." + +"Why didn't you report before?" + +"Why we thought we'd git 'em ourselves, and if we had we wouldn't 'a +troubled yuh--and I guess they wouldn't 'a troubled us much longer. But +they are so slick--so blank slick!" + +"Mr. Cadwaller, we don't allow any profanity in this court room," said +the Commissioner in a quiet voice. + +"Eh? Who's givin' yuh profanity? I don't mean no profanity. I'm talkin' +about them blank blank--" + +"Stop, Mr. Cadwaller!" said the Commissioner. "We must end this +interview if you cannot make your statements without profanity. This +is Her Majesty's court of Justice and we cannot tolerate any unbecoming +language. + +"Waal, I'll be--!" + +"Pardon me, Mr. Commissioner," said Mr. Hiram S. Sligh, interrupting +his friend and client. "Perhaps I may make a statement. We've lost some +twenty or thirty horses." + +"Thirty-one" interjected Mr. Raimes quietly. + +"Thirty-one!" burst in Mr. Cadwaller indignantly. "That's only one +little bunch." + +"And," continued Mr. Sligh, "we have traced them right up to the +Blood reserve. More than that, Mr. Raimes has seen the horses in the +possession of the Indians and we want your assistance in recovering our +property." + +"Yes, by gum!" exclaimed Mr. Cadwaller. "And we want +them--eh--eh--consarned redskin thieves strung up." + +"You say you have seen the stolen horses on the Blood reserve, Mr. +Raimes?" enquired the Commissioner. + +Mr. Raimes, who was industriously chewing a quid of tobacco, ejected, +with a fine sense of propriety and with great skill and accuracy, a +stream of tobacco juice out of the door before he answered. + +"I seen 'em." + +"When did you lose your horses?" + +Mr. Raimes considered the matter for some moments, chewing energetically +the while, then, having delivered himself with the same delicacy and +skill as before of his surplus tobacco juice, made laconic reply: + +"Seventeen, no, eighteen days ago." + +"Did you follow the trail immediately yourselves?" + +"No, Jim Eberts." + +"Jim Eberts?" + +"Foreman," said Mr. Raimes, who seemed to regard conversation in the +light of an interference with the more important business in which he +was industriously engaged. + +"But you saw the horses yourself on the Blood reserve?" + +"Followed up and seen 'em." + +"How long since you saw them there, Mr. Raimes?" + +"Two days." + +"You are quite sure about the horses?" + +"Sure." + +"Call Inspector Dickson!" ordered the Commissioner. + +Inspector Dickson appeared and saluted. + +"We have information that a party of Blood Indians have stolen a band of +horses from these gentlemen from Montana and that these horses are now +on the Blood reserve. Take a couple of men and investigate, and if you +find the horses bring them back." + +"Couple of men!" ejaculated Mr. Cadwaller breathlessly. "A couple of +hundred, you mean, General!" + +"What for?" + +"Why, to sur--raound them--there--Indians." The regulations of the court +room considerably hampered Mr. Cadwaller's fluency of speech. + +"It is not necessary at all, Mr. Cadwaller. Besides, we have only some +eighty men all told at this post. Our whole force in the territories is +less than five hundred men." + +"Five hundred men! You mean for this State, General--Alberta?" + +"No, Sir. For all Western Canada. All west of Manitoba." + +"How much territory do you cover?" enquired the astonished Mr. +Cadwaller. + +"We regularly patrol some three hundred thousand square miles, besides +taking an occasional expedition into the far north." + +"And how many Indians?" + +"About the same number as you have, I imagine, in Montana and Dakota. In +Alberta, about nine thousand." + +"And less than five hundred police! Say, General, I take off my hat. +Ten thousand Indians! By the holy poker! And five hundred police! How in +Cain do you keep down the devils?" + +"We don't try to keep them down. We try to take care of them." + +"Guess you've hit it," said Mr. Raimes, dexterously squirting out of the +door. + +"Jeerupiter! Say, General, some day they'll massacree yuh sure!" said +Mr. Cadwaller, a note of anxiety in his voice. + +"Oh, no, they are a very good lot on the whole." + +"Good! We've got a lot of good Indians too, but they're all under +graound. Five hundred men! Jeerupiter! Say, Sligh, how many soldiers +does Uncle Sam have on this job?" + +"Well, I can't say altogether, but in Montana and Dakota I happen to +know we have about four thousand regulars." + +"Say, figger that out, will yuh?" continued Mr. Cadwaller. "Allowed +four times the territory, about the same number of Indians and about +one-eighth the number of police. Say, General, I take off my hat again. +Put it there! You Canucks have got the trick sure!" + +"Easier to care for 'em than kill 'em, I guess," said Mr. Raimes +casually. + +"But, say, General," continued Mr. Cadwaller, "you ain't goin' to send +for them hosses with no three men?" + +"I'm afraid we cannot spare any more." + +"Jeerupiter, General!" exclaimed Mr. Cadwaller. "I'll wait outside the +reserve till this picnic's over. Say, General, let's have twenty-five +men at least." + +"What do you say, Inspector Dickson? Will two men be sufficient?" + +"We'll try, Sir," replied the Inspector. + +"How soon can you be ready?" + +"In a quarter of an hour." + +"Jeerupiter!" muttered Mr. Cadwaller to himself, as he followed the +Inspector out of the room. + +"I say, Commissioner, will you let me in on this thing?" said Cameron. + +"Do you mean that you want to join the force?" enquired the +Commissioner, letting his eye run approvingly up and down Cameron's +figure. + +"There is McIvor, Sir--" began Cameron. + +"Oh, I could fix that all right," replied the Commissioner. "We want +men, and we want men like you. We have no vacancy among the officers, +but you could enlist as a constable and there is always opportunity to +advance." + +"It is a great service!" exclaimed Cameron. "I'd like awfully to join." + +"Very well," said the Commissioner promptly, "we will take you. You are +physically sound, wind, limb, eye-sight, and so forth?" + +"As far as I know, perfectly fit," replied Cameron. + +Once more Inspector Dickson was summoned. + +"Inspector Dickson, Mr. Cameron wishes to join the force. We will have +his application taken and filled in later, and we will waive examination +for the present. Will you administer the oath?" + +"Cameron, stand up!" commanded the Inspector sharply. + +With a little thrill at his heart Cameron stood up, took the Bible in +his hand and repeated after the Inspector the words of the oath, + +"I, Allan Cameron, solemnly swear that I will faithfully, diligently, +and impartially execute and perform the duties required of me as a +member of the North West Mounted Police Force, and will well and truly +obey and perform all lawful orders and instructions which I shall +receive as such, without fear, favour, or affection of or toward any +person. So help me, God." + +"Now then, Cameron, I congratulate you upon your new profession. +The Inspector will see about your outfit and later you will receive +instructions as to your duties. Meantime, take him along with you, +Inspector, and get those horses." + +It was a somewhat irregular mode of procedure, but men were sorely +needed at the Macleod post and the Commissioner had an eye that took in +not only the lines of a man's figure but the qualities of his soul. + +"That chap will make good, or I am greatly mistaken," he said to the +Inspector as Cameron went off with the orderly to select his uniform. + +"Well set up chap," said the Inspector. "We'll try him out to-night." + +"Come now, don't kill him. Remember, other men have something else in +them besides whalebone and steel, if you have not." + +In half an hour the Inspector, Sergeant Crisp and Cameron, with the +three American citizens, were on their way to the Blood reserve. + +Cameron had been given a horse from the stable. + +All afternoon and late into the evening they rode, then camped and were +early upon the trail the following morning. Cameron was half dead with +the fatigue from his experiences of the past week, but he would have +died rather than have hinted at weariness. He was not a little comforted +to notice that Sergeant Crisp, too, was showing signs of distress, while +District Attorney Sligh was evidently in the last stages of exhaustion. +Even the steel and whalebone combination that constituted the frame +of the Inspector appeared to show some slight signs of wear; but all +feeling of weariness vanished when the Inspector, who was in the lead, +halted at the edge of a wide sweeping valley and, pointing far ahead, +said, "The Blood reserve. Their camp lies just beyond that bluff." + +"Say, Inspector, hold up!" cried Mr. Cadwaller as the Inspector set off +again. "Ain't yuh goin' to sneak up on 'em like?" + +"Sneak up on them? No, of course not," said the Inspector curtly. "We +shall ride right in." + +"Say, Raimes," said Mr. Cadwaller, "a hole would be a blame nice thing +to find just now." + +"Do you think there will be any trouble?" enquired Mr. Hiram Sligh of +Sergeant Crisp. + +"Trouble? Perhaps so," replied Crisp, as if to him it were a matter of +perfect indifference. + +"We'll never git them hosses," said Raimes. "But we've got to stay with +the chief, I guess." + +And so they followed Inspector Dickson down into the valley, where in +the distance could be seen a number of horses and cattle grazing. They +had not ridden far along the valley bottom when Mr. Cadwaller spurred up +upon the Inspector and called out excitedly, + +"I say, Inspector, them's our hosses right there. Say, let's run 'em +off." + +"Can you pick them out?" enquired the Inspector, turning in his saddle. + +"Every last one!" said Raimes. + +"Very well, cut them out and get them into a bunch," said the Inspector. +"I see there are some Indians herding them apparently. Pay no attention +to them, but go right along with your work." + +"There's one of 'em off to give tongue!" cried Mr. Cadwaller excitedly. +"Bring him down, Inspector! Bring him down! Quick! Here, let me have +your rifle!" Hurriedly he snatched at the Inspector's carbine. + +"Stop!" cried the Inspector in sharp command. "Now, attention! We are +on a somewhat delicate business. A mistake might bring disaster. I am in +command of this party and I must have absolute and prompt obedience. Mr. +Cadwaller, it will be at your peril that you make any such move again. +Let no man draw a gun until ordered by me! Now, then, cut out those +horses and bunch them together!" + +"Jeerupiter! He's a hull brigade himself," said Mr. Cadwaller in an +undertone, dropping back beside Mr. Sligh. "Waal, here goes for the +bunch." + +But though both Mr. Cadwaller and Mr. Raimes, as well as Sergeant Crisp +and the Inspector, were expert cattle men, it took some little time and +very considerable manoeuvering to get the stolen horses bunched together +and separated from the rest of the animals grazing in the valley, and by +the time this was accomplished Indian riders had appeared on every side, +gradually closing in upon the party. It was clearly impossible to drive +off the bunch through that gradually narrowing cordon of mounted Indians +without trouble. + +"Now, what's to be done?" said Mr. Cadwaller, nervously addressing the +Inspector. + +"Forward!" cried the Inspector in a loud voice. "Towards the corral +ahead there!" + +This movement nonplussed the Indians and in silence they fell in behind +the party who, going before, finally succeeded in driving the bunch of +horses into the corral. + +"Sergeant Crisp, you and Constable Cameron remain here on guard. I shall +go and find the Chief. Here," he continued, addressing a young Indian +brave who had ridden up quite close to the gate of the corral, "lead me +to your Chief, Red Crow!" + +The absence alike of all hesitation or fear, and of all bluster in his +tone and bearing, apparently impressed the young brave, for he wheeled +his pony and set off immediately at a gallop, followed by the Inspector +at a more moderate pace. + +Quickly the Indians gathered about the corral and the group at its gate. +With every passing minute their numbers increased, and as their numbers +increased so did the violence of their demonstration The three Americans +were placed next the corral, Sergeant Crisp and Cameron being between +them and the excited Indians. Cameron had seen Indians before about the +trading posts. A shy, suspicious, and subdued lot of creatures they had +seemed to him. But these were men of another breed, with their lean, +lithe, muscular figures, their clean, copper skins, their wild fierce +eyes, their haughty bearing. Those others were poor beggars seeking +permission to exist; these were men, proud, fearless, and free. + +"Jove, what a team one could pick out of the bunch!" said Cameron to +himself, as his eye fell upon the clean bare limbs and observed their +graceful motions. But to the Americans they were a hateful and fearsome +sight. Indians with them were never anything but a menace to be held in +check, or a nuisance to be got rid of. + +Louder and louder grew the yells and wilder the gesticulations as the +savages worked themselves up into a fury. Suddenly, through the yelling, +careering, gesticulating crowd of Indians a young brave came tearing at +full gallop and, thrusting his pony close up to the Sergeant's, stuck +his face into the officer's and uttered a terrific war whoop. Not a line +of the Sergeant's face nor a muscle of his body moved except that the +near spur slightly touched his horse's flank and the fingers tightened +almost imperceptibly upon the bridle rein. Like a flash of light the +Sergeant's horse wheeled and with a fierce squeal let fly two wicked +heels hard upon the pony's ribs. In sheer terror and surprise the +little beast bolted, throwing his rider over his neck and finally to the +ground. Immediately a shout of jeering laughter rose from the crowd, who +greatly enjoyed their comrade's discomfiture. Except that the Sergeant's +face wore a look of pleased surprise, he simply maintained his attitude +of calm indifference. No other Indian, however, appeared ready to repeat +the performance of the young brave. + +At length the Inspector appeared, followed by the Chief, Red Crow. + +"Tell your people to go away!" said the Inspector as they reached the +corral. "They are making too much noise." + +Red Crow addressed his braves at some length. + +"Open the corral," ordered the Inspector, "and get those horses out on +the trail." + +For a few moments there was silence. Then, as the Indians perceived the +purpose of the police, on every side there rose wild yells of protest +and from every side a rush was made toward the corral. But Sergeant +Crisp kept his horse on the move in a series of kicks and plunges that +had the effect of keeping clear a wide circle about the corral gate. + +"Touch your horse with the spur and hold him up tight," he said quietly +to Cameron. + +Cameron did so and at once his horse became seemingly as unmanageable as +the Sergeant's, plunging, biting, kicking. The Indian ponies could not +be induced to approach. The uproar, however, only increased. Guns began +to go off, bullets could be heard whistling overhead. Red Crow's voice +apparently could make no impression upon the maddened crowd of Indians. +A minor Chief, White Horse by name, having whirled in behind the +Sergeant, seized hold of Mr. Cadwaller's bridle and began to threaten +him with excited gesticulations. Mr. Cadwaller drew his gun. + +"Let go that line, you blank blank redskin!" he roared, flourishing his +revolver. + +In a moment, with a single plunge, the Inspector was at his side and, +flinging off the Indian, shouted: + +"Put up that gun, Mr. Cadwaller! Quick!" Mr. Cadwaller hesitated. +"Sergeant Crisp, arrest that man!" The Inspector's voice rang out like a +trumpet. His gun covered Mr. Cadwaller. + +"Give me that gun!" said the Sergeant. + +Mr. Cadwaller handed over his gun. + +"Let him go," said the Inspector to Sergeant Crisp. "He will probably +behave." + +The Indians had gathered close about the group. White Horse, in the +centre, was talking fast and furious and pointing to Mr. Cadwaller. + +"Get the bunch off, Sergeant!" said the Inspector quietly. "I will hold +them here for a few minutes." + +Quietly the Sergeant backed out of the circle, leaving the Inspector +and Mr. Cadwaller with White Horse and Red Crow in the midst of the +crowding, yelling Indians. + +"White Horse say this man steal Bull Back's horses last fall!" shouted +Red Crow in the Inspector's ear. + +"Too much noise here," said the Inspector, moving toward the Indian +camp and away from the corral and drawing the crowd with him. "Tell your +people to be quiet, Red Crow. I thought you were the Chief." + +Stung by the taunt, Red Crow raised his rifle and fired into the air. +Then, standing high in his stirrups, he held up his hand and called out +a number of names. Instantly ten men rode to his side. Again Red Crow +spoke. The ten men rode out again among the crowd. Immediately the +shouting ceased. + +"Good!" said the Inspector. "I see my brother is strong. Now, where is +Bull Back?" + +The Chief called out a name. There was no response. + +"Bull Back not here," he said. + +"Then listen, my brother," said the Inspector earnestly. "This man," +pointing to Mr. Cadwaller, "waits with me at the Fort two days to meet +White Horse, Bull Back, and any Indians who know about this man; and +what is right will be done. I have spoken. Farewell!" He gave his hand +to Chief Red Crow. "My brother knows," he added, "the Police do not +lie." + +So saying, he wheeled his horse and, with Mr. Cadwaller before him, +rode off after the others of the party, who had by this time gone some +distance up the trail. + +For a few moments hesitation held the crowd, then with a loud cry White +Horse galloped up and again seized Mr. Cadwaller's bridle. Instantly the +Inspector covered him with his gun. + +"Hold up your hands quick!" he said. + +The Indian dropped the bridle rein. The Inspector handed his gun to Mr. +Cadwaller. + +"Don't shoot till I speak or I shoot you!" he said sternly. Mr. +Cadwaller took the gun and covered the Indian. In a twinkling White +Horse found himself with handcuffs on his wrists and his bridle line +attached to the horn of the Inspector's saddle. + +"Now give me that gun, Mr. Cadwaller, and here take your own--but wait +for the word. Forward!" + +He had not gone a pace till he was surrounded by a score of angry +and determined Indians with levelled rifles. For the first time the +Inspector hesitated. Through the line of levelled rifles Chief Red Crow +rode up and in a grave but determined voice said: + +"My brother is wrong. White Horse, chief. My young men not let him go." + +"Good!" said the Inspector, promptly making up his mind. "I let him go +now. In two days I come again and get him. The Police never lie." + +So saying, he released White Horse and without further word, and +disregarding the angry looks and levelled rifles, rode slowly off after +his party. On the edge of the crowd he met Sergeant Crisp. + +"Thought I'd better come back, Sir. It looked rather ugly for a minute," +said the Sergeant. + +"Ride on," said the Inspector. "We will get our man to-morrow. Steady, +Mr. Cadwaller, not too fast." The Inspector slowed his horse down to +a walk, which he gradually increased to an easy lope and so brought up +with Cameron and the others. + +Through the long evening they pressed forward till they came to the +Kootenay River, having crossed which they ventured to camp for the +night. + +After supper the Inspector announced his intention of riding on to the +Fort for reinforcements, and gave his instructions to the Sergeant. + +"Sergeant Crisp," he said, "you will make an early start and bring in +the bunch to-morrow morning. Mr. Cadwaller, you remember you are to +remain at the Fort two days so that the charges brought by White Horse +may be investigated." + +"What?" exclaimed Mr. Cadwaller. "Wait for them blank blank devils? Say, +Inspector, you don't mean that?" + +"You heard me promise the Indians," said the Inspector. + +"Why, yes. Mighty smart, too! But say, you were jest joshing, weren't +you?" + +"No, Sir," replied the Inspector. "The Police never break a promise to +white man or Indian." + +Then Mr. Cadwaller cut loose for a few moments. He did not object to +waiting any length of time to oblige a friend, but that he should +delay his journey to answer the charges of an Indian, variously and +picturesquely described, was to him an unthinkable proposition. + +"Sergeant Crisp, you will see to this," said the Inspector quietly as he +rode away. + +Then Mr. Cadwaller began to laugh and continued laughing for several +minutes. + +"By the holy poker, Sligh!" at last he exclaimed. "It's a joke. It's a +regular John Bull joke." + +"Yes," said Mr. Sligh, while he cut a comfortable chew from his black +plug. "Good joke, too, but not on John. I guess that's how five hundred +police hold down--no, take care of--twenty thousand redskins." + +And the latest recruit to Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police +straightened up till he could feel the collar of his tunic catch him on +the back of the neck and was conscious of a little thrill running up his +spine as he remembered that he was a member of that same force. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE MAKING OF BRAVES + + +It was to Cameron an extreme satisfaction to ride with some twenty of +his comrades behind White Horse, who, handcuffed and with bridle reins +tied to those of two troopers, and accompanied by Chief Red Crow, Bull +Back, and others of their tribe, made ignominious and crestfallen entry +into the Fort next day. It was hardly less of a satisfaction to see Mr. +Cadwaller exercise himself considerably in making defence against the +charges of Bull Back and his friends. The defence was successful, +and the American citizens departed to Lone Pine, Montana, with their +recovered horses and with a new and higher regard for both the executive +and administrative excellence of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police +officers and men. Chief Red Crow, too, returned to his band with a +chastened mind, it having been made clear to him that a chief who could +not control his young braves was not the kind of a chief the Great White +Mother desired to have in command of her Indian subjects. White Horse, +also, after three months sojourn in the cooling solitude of the Police +guard room, went back to his people a humbler and a wiser brave. + +The horse-stealing, however, went merrily on and the summer of 1884 +stands in the records of the Police as the most trying period of their +history in the Northwest up to that date. The booming upon the eastern +and southern boundaries of Western Canada of the incoming tide of +humanity, hungry for land, awakened ominous echoes in the little +primitive settlements of half-breed people and throughout the +reservations of the wild Indian tribes as well. Everywhere, without +warning and without explanation, the surveyors' flags and posts made +appearance. Wild rumours ran through the land, till every fluttering +flag became the symbol of dispossession and every gleaming post +an emblem of tyrannous disregard of a people's rights. The ancient +aboriginal inhabitants of the western plains and woods, too, had their +grievances and their fears. With phenomenal rapidity the buffalo had +vanished from the plains once black with their hundreds of thousands. +With the buffalo vanished the Indians' chief source of support, their +food, their clothing, their shelter, their chief article of barter. +Bereft of these and deprived at the same time of the supreme joy of +existence, the chase, bitten with cold, starved with hunger, fearful +of the future, they offered fertile soil for the seeds of rebellion. A +government more than usually obsessed with stupidity, as all governments +become at times, remained indifferent to appeals, deaf to remonstrances, +blind to danger signals, till through the remote and isolated +settlements of the vast west and among the tribes of Indians, +hunger-bitten and fearful for their future, a spirit of unrest, of fear, +of impatience of all authority, spread like a secret plague from Prince +Albert to the Crow's Nest and from the Cypress Hills to Edmonton. +A violent recrudescence of whiskey-smuggling, horse-stealing, and +cattle-rustling made the work of administering the law throughout +this vast territory one of exceeding difficulty and one calling for +promptitude, wisdom, patience, and courage, of no ordinary quality. +Added to all this, the steady advance of the railroad into the new +country, with its huge construction camps, in whose wake followed +the lawless hordes of whiskey smugglers, tinhorn gamblers, thugs, and +harlots, very materially added to the dangers and difficulties of the +situation for the Police. + +For the first month after enlistment Cameron was kept in close touch +with the Fort and spent his hours under the polishing hands of the drill +sergeant. From five in the morning till ten at night the day's routine +kept him on the grind. Hard work it was, but to Cameron a continuous +delight. For the first time in his life he had a job that seemed worth +a man's while, and one the mere routine of which delighted his soul. He +loved his horse and loved to care for him, and, most of all, loved to +ride him. Among his comrades he found congenial spirits, both among the +officers and the men. Though discipline was strict, there was an utter +absence of anything like a spirit of petty bullying which too often is +found in military service; for in the first place the men were in very +many cases the equals and sometimes the superiors of the officers both +in culture and in breeding, and further, and very specially, the nature +of the work was such as to cultivate the spirit of true comradeship. +When officer and man ride side by side through rain and shine, through +burning heat and frost "Forty below," when they eat out of the same pan +and sleep in the same "dug-out," when they stand back to back in the +midst of a horde of howling savages, rank comes to mean little and +manhood much. + +Between Inspector Dickson and Cameron a genuine friendship sprang +up; and after his first month was in, Cameron often found himself the +comrade of the Inspector in expeditions of special difficulty where +there was a call for intelligence and nerve. The reports of these +expeditions that stand upon the police record have as little semblance +of the deeds achieved as have stark and grinning skeletons in the +medical student's private cupboard to the living moving bodies they +once were. The records of these deeds are the bare bones. The flesh and +blood, the life and colour are to be found only in the memories of those +who were concerned in their achievement. + +But even in these bony records there are to be seen frequent entries in +which the names of Inspector Dickson and Constable Cameron stand side +by side. For the Inspector was a man upon whom the Commissioner and +the Superintendent delighted to load their more dangerous and delicate +cases, and it was upon Cameron when it was possible that the Inspector's +choice for a comrade fell. + +It was such a case as this that held the Commissioner and Superintendent +Crawford in anxious consultation far into a late September night. When +the consultation was over, Inspector Dickson was called in and the +result of this consultation laid before him. + +"We have every reason to believe, as you well know, Inspector Dickson," +said the Commissioner, "that there is a secret and wide-spread +propagandum being carried on among our Indians, especially among the +Piegans, Bloods, and Blackfeet, with the purpose of organizing rebellion +in connection with the half-breed discontent in the territories to the +east of us. Riel, you know, has been back for some time and we believe +his agents are busy on every reservation at present. This outbreak of +horse-stealing and whiskey-smuggling in so many parts of the country at +the same time is a mere blind to a more serious business, the hatching +of a very wide conspiracy. We know that the Crees and the Assiniboines +are negotiating with the half-breeds. Big Bear, Beardy, and Little Pine +are keen for a fight. There is some very powerful and secret influence +at work among our Indians here. We suspect that the ex-Chief of the +Bloods, Little Thunder, is the head of this organization. A very +dangerous and very clever Indian he is, as you know. We have a charge +of murder against him already, and if we can arrest him and one or two +others it would do much to break up the gang, or at least to hold in +check their organization work. We want you to get quietly after this +business, visit all the reservations, obtain all information possible, +and when you are ready, strike. You will be quite unhampered in your +movements and the whole force will co-operate with you if necessary. We +consider this an extremely critical time and we must be prepared. Take a +man with you. Make your own choice." + +"I expect we know the man the Inspector will choose," said +superintendent Crawford with a smile. + +"Who is that?" asked the Commissioner. + +"Constable Cameron, of course." + +"Ah, yes, Cameron. You remember I predicted he would make good. He has +certainly fulfilled my expectation." + +"He is a good man," said the Inspector quietly. + +"Oh come, Inspector, you know you consider him the best all-round man at +this post," said the Superintendent. + +"Well, you see, Sir, he is enthusiastic for the service, he works hard +and likes his work." + +"Right you are!" exclaimed the Superintendent. "In the first place, he +is the strongest man on the force, then he is a dead shot, a good man +with a horse, and has developed an extraordinary gift in tracking, and +besides he is perfectly straight." + +"Is that right, Inspector?" + +"Yes," said the Inspector very quietly, though his eyes were gleaming at +the praise of his friend. "He is a good man, very keen, very reliable, +and of course afraid of nothing." + +The Superintendent laughed quietly. + +"You want him then, I suppose?" + +"Yes," said the Inspector, "if it could be managed." + +"I don't know," said the Commissioner. "That reminds me." He took a +letter from the file. "Read that," he said, "second page there. It is a +private letter from Superintendent Strong at Calgary." + +The Inspector took the letter and read at the place indicated-- + +"Another thing. The handling of these railroad construction gangs is +no easy matter. We are pestered with whiskey-smugglers, gamblers, and +prostitutes till we don't know which way to turn. As the work extends +into the mountains and as the camps grow in numbers the difficulty +of control is very greatly increased. I ought to have my force +strengthened. Could you not immediately spare me at least eight or ten +good men? I would like that chap Cameron, the man, you know, who caught +the half-breed Louis in the Sarcee camp and carried him out on his +horse's neck--a very fine bit of work. Inspector Dickson will tell you +about him. I had it from him. Could you spare Cameron? I would recommend +him at once as a sergeant." + +The Inspector handed back the letter without comment. + +"Well?" said the Commissioner. + +"Cameron would do very well for the work," said the Inspector, "and he +deserves promotion." + +"What was that Sarcee business, Inspector?" enquired the Commissioner. +"That must have been when I was down east." + +"Oh," said the Inspector, "it was a very fine thing indeed of Cameron. +Louis 'the Breed' had been working the Bloods. We got on his track and +headed him up in the Sarcee camp. He is rather a dangerous character and +is related to the Sarcees. We expected trouble in his arrest. We rode +in and found the Indians, to the number of a hundred and fifty or more, +very considerably excited. They objected strenuously to the arrest of +the half-breed. Constable Cameron and I were alone. We had left a +party of men further back over the hill. The half-breed brought it upon +himself. He was rash enough to make a sudden attack upon Cameron. +That is where he made his mistake. Before he knew where he was Cameron +slipped from his horse, caught him under the chin with a very nice +left-hander that laid him neatly out, swung him on to his horse, and was +out of the camp before the Indians knew what had happened." + +"The Inspector does not tell you," said Superintendent Crawford, "how +he stood off that bunch of Sarcees and held them where they were till +Cameron was safe with his man over the hill. But it was a very clever +bit of work, and, if I may say it, deserves recognition." + +"I should like to give you Cameron if it were possible," said the +Commissioner, "but this railroad business is one of great difficulty and +Superintendent Strong is not the man to ask for assistance unless he is +in pretty desperate straits. An unintelligent or reckless man would be +worse than useless." + +"How would it do," suggested the Superintendent, "to allow Cameron in +the meantime to accompany the Inspector? Then later we might send him to +Superintendent Strong." + +Reporting this arrangement to Cameron a little later, the Inspector +enquired: + +"How would you like to have a turn in the mountains? You would find +Superintendent Strong a fine officer." + +"I desire no change in that regard," replied Cameron. "But, curiously +enough, I have a letter this very mail that has a bearing upon this +matter. Here it is. It is from an old college friend of mine, Dr. +Martin." + +The Inspector took the letter and read-- + +"I have got myself used up, too great devotion to scientific research; +hence I am accepting an offer from the railroad people for work in the +mountains. I leave in a week. Think of it! The muck and the ruck, the +execrable grub and worse drink! I shall have to work my passage on hand +cars and doubtless by tie pass. My hands will lose all their polish. +However, there may be some fun and likely some good practice. I see +they are blowing themselves up at a great rate. Then, too, there is +the prospective joy of seeing you, of whom quite wonderful tales have +floated east to us. I am told you are in direct line for the position +of the High Chief Muck-a-muck of the Force. Look me up in Superintendent +Strong's division. I believe he is the bulwark of the Empire in my +district. + +"A letter from the old burgh across the pond tells me your governor is +far from well. Awfully sorry to hear it. It is rough on your sister, to +whom, when you write, remember your humble servant. + +"I am bringing out two nurses with me, both your devotees. Look out for +squalls. If you get shot up see that you select a locality where the +medical attendance and nursing are 'A 1'." + +"It would be awfully good to see the old boy," said Cameron as he took +the letter from the Inspector. "He is a decent chap and quite up-to-date +in his profession." + +"What about the nurses?" enquired the Inspector gravely. + +"Oh, I don't know them. Never knew but one. A good bright little soul +she was. Saw me through a typhoid trip. Little too clever sometimes," +he added, remembering the day when she had taken her fun out of the +slow-footed, slow-minded farmer's daughter. + +"Well," said the Inspector, "we shall possibly come across them in +our round-up. This is rather a big game, a very big game and one worth +playing." + +A bigger game it turned out than any of the players knew, bigger in its +immediate sweep and in its nationwide issues. + +For three months they swept the plains, haunting the reservations at +unexpected moments. But though they found not a few horses and cattle +whose obliterated brands seemed to warrant confiscation, and though +there were signs for the instructed eye of evil doings in many an Indian +camp, yet there was nothing connected with the larger game upon which +the Inspector of Police could lay his hand. + +Among the Bloods there were frequent sun-dances where many braves were +made and much firewater drunk with consequent blood-letting. Red Crow +deprecated these occurrences, but confessed his powerlessness to prevent +the flow of either firewater or of blood. A private conversation with +the Inspector left with the Chief some food for thought, however, and +resulted in the cropping of the mane of White Horse, of whose comings +and goings the Inspector was insistently curious. + +On the Blackfeet reservation they ran into a great pow-wow of chiefs +from far and near, to which old Crowfoot invited the representatives +of the Great White Mother with impressive cordiality, an invitation, +however, which the Inspector, such was his strenuous hunt for stolen +horses, was forced regretfully to decline. + +"Too smooth, old boy, too smooth!" was the Inspector's comment as they +rode off. "There are doings there without doubt. Did you see the Cree +and the Assiniboine?" + +"I could not pick them out," said Cameron, "but I saw Louis the Breed." + +"Ah, you did! He needs another term at the Police sanatarium." + +They looked in upon the Sarcees and were relieved to find them frankly +hostile. They had not forgotten the last visit of the Inspector and his +friend. + +"That's better," remarked the Inspector as they left the reservation. +"Neither the hostile Indian nor the noisy Indian is dangerous. When he +gets smooth and quiet watch him, like old Crowfoot. Sly old boy he is! +But he will wait till he sees which way the cat jumps. He is no leader +of lost causes." + +At Morleyville they breathed a different atmosphere. They felt +themselves to be among friends. The hand of the missionary here was upon +the helm of government and the spirit of the missionary was the spirit +of the tribe. + +"Any trouble?" enquired the Inspector. + +"We have a great many visitors these days," said the missionary. "And +some of our young men don't like hunger, and the offer of a full feast +makes sweet music in their ears." + +"Any sun-dances?" + +"No, no, the sun-dances are all past. Our people are no longer pagans." + +"Good man!" was the Inspector's comment as they took up the trail again +toward the mountains. "And with quite a sufficient amount of the wisdom +of the serpent in his guileless heart. We need not watch the Stonies. +Here's a spot at least where religion pays. And a mighty good thing for +us just now," added the inspector. "These Stonies in the old days +were perfect devils for fighting. They are a mountain people and for +generations kept the passes against all comers. But Macdougall has +changed all that." + +Leaving the reservation, they came upon the line of the railway. + +"There lies my old trail," said Cameron. "And my last camp was only +about two miles west of here." + +"It was somewhere here that Raven fell in with you?" + +"No, some ten miles off the line, down the old Kootenay trail." + +"Aha!" said the Inspector. "It might not be a bad idea to beat up that +same old trail. It is quite possible that we might fall in with your old +friends." + +"It would certainly be a great pleasure," replied Cameron, "to conduct +Mr. Raven and his Indian friend over this same trail as they did me some +nine months ago." + +"We will take a chance on it," said the Inspector. "We lose time going +back the other way." + +Upon the site of McIvor's survey camp they found camped a large +construction gang. Between the lines of tents, for the camp was ordered +in streets like a city, they rode till they came to the headquarters of +the Police, and enquired for the Superintendent. The Superintendent +had gone up the line, the Sergeant informed them, following the larger +construction gangs. The Sergeant and two men had some fifty miles of +line under patrol, with some ten camps of various kinds on the line and +in the woods, and in addition they had the care of that double stream of +humanity flowing in and flowing out without ceasing day or night. + +As the Inspector stepped inside the Police tent Cameron's attention was +arrested by the sign "Hospital" upon a large double-roofed tent set on a +wooden floor and guyed with more than ordinary care. + +"Wonder if old Martin is anywhere about," he said to himself as he rode +across to the open door. + +"Is Dr. Martin in?" he enquired of a Chinaman, who appeared from a tent +at the rear. + +"Doc Matin go 'way 'long tlain." + +"When will he come back?" demanded Cameron. + +"Donno. See missy woman." + +So saying, he disappeared into the tent while Cameron waited. + +"You wish to see the doctor? He has gone west. Oh! Why, it--" + +Cameron was off his horse, standing with his hat in one hand, the other +outstretched toward the speaker. + +"Why! it cannot be!--it is--my patient." The little nurse had his hand +in both of hers. "Oh, you great big monster soldier! Do you know how +fine you look?" + +"No," replied Cameron, "but I do know how perfectly fine you look." + +"Well, don't devour me. You look dangerous." + +"I should truly love one little bite." + +"Oh, Mr. Cameron, stop! You terrible man! Right in the open street!" The +little nurse's cheeks flamed red as she quickly glanced about her. "What +would Dr. Martin say?" + +"Dr. Martin!" Cameron laughed. "Besides, I couldn't help it." + +"Oh, I am so glad!" + +"Thank you," said Cameron. + +"I mean I am so glad to see you. They told us you would be coming +to join us. And now they are gone. What a pity! They will be so +disappointed." + +"Who, pray, will be thus blighted?" + +"Oh, the doctor I mean, and--and"--here her eyes danced +mischievously--"the other nurse, of course. But you will be going west?" + +"No, south, to-day, and in a few minutes. Here comes the Inspector. May +I present him?" + +The little nurse's snapping eyes glowed with pleasure as they ran over +the tall figure of the Inspector and rested upon his fine clean-cut +face. The Inspector had just made his farewell to the Sergeant +preparatory to an immediate departure, but it was a full half hour +before they rose from the dainty tea table where the little nurse had +made them afternoon tea from her own dainty tea set. + +"It makes me think of home," said the Inspector with a sigh as he bent +over the little nurse's hand in gratitude. "My first real afternoon tea +in ten years." + +"Poor man!" said the nurse. "Come again." + +"Ah, if I could!" + +"But YOU are coming?" said the little nurse to Cameron as he held her +hand in farewell. "I heard the doctor say you were coming and we are +quite wild with impatience over it." + +Cameron looked at the Inspector. + +"I had thought of keeping Cameron at Macleod," said the latter. "But now +I can hardly have the heart to do so." + +"Oh, you needn't look at me so," said the little nurse with a saucy toss +of her head. "He wouldn't bother himself about me, but--but--there is +another. No, I won't tell him." And she laughed gaily. + +Cameron stood mystified. + +"Another? There is old Martin of course, but there is no other." + +The little nurse laughed, this time scornfully. + +"Old Martin indeed! He is making a shameless pretence of ignorance, +Inspector Dickson." + +"Disgraceful bluff I call it," cried the Inspector. + +"Who can it be?" said Cameron. "I really don't know any nurse. Of course +it can't be--Mandy--Miss Haley?" He laughed a loud laugh almost of +derision as he made the suggestion. + +"Ah, he's got it!" cried the nurse, clapping her hands. "As if he ever +doubted." + +"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Cameron. "You don't mean to tell me that +Mandy--What is poor Mandy doing here? Cooking?" + +"Cooking indeed!" exclaimed the nurse. "Cooking indeed! Just let the men +in this camp, from John here," indicating the Chinaman at the rear +of the tent, "to the Sergeant yonder, hear you by the faintest tone +indicate anything but adoration for Nurse Haley, and you will need the +whole Police Force to deliver you from their fury." + +"Good Heavens!" said Cameron in an undertone. "A nurse! With those +hands!" He shuddered. "I mean, of course--you know--she's awfully +good-hearted and all that, but as a nurse you know she is impossible." + +The little nurse laughed long and joyously. + +"Oh, this is fun! I wish Dr. Martin could hear you. You forget, Sir, +that for a year and a half she has had the benefit of my example and +tuition." + +"Think of that, Cameron!" murmured the Inspector reproachfully. But +Cameron only shook his head. + +"Good-bye!" he said. "No, I don't think I pine for mountain scenery. +Remember me to Martin and to Man--to Nurse Haley." + +"Good-bye!" said the little nurse. "I have a good mind to tell them what +you said. I may. Just wait, though. Some day you will very humbly beg my +pardon for that slight upon my assistant." + +"Slight? Believe me, I mean none. I would be an awful cad if I did. +But--well, you know as well as I do that, good soul as Mandy is, she is +in many ways impossible." + +"Do I?" Again the joyous laugh pealed out. "Well, well, come back and +see." And waving her hand she stood to watch them down the trail. + +"Jolly little girl," said the Inspector, as they turned from the railway +tote road down the coulee into the Kootenay trail. "But who is this +other?" + +"Oh," said Cameron impatiently, "I feel like a beastly cad. She's +the daughter of the farmer where I spent a summer in Ontario, a good +simple-hearted girl, but awfully--well--crude, you know. And yet--" +Cameron's speech faded into silence, for his memory played a trick upon +him, and again he was standing in the orchard on that sunny autumn day +looking into a pair of wonderful eyes, and, remembering the eyes, he +forgot his speech. + +"Ah, yes," said the Inspector. "I understand." + +"No, you don't," said Cameron almost rudely. "You would have to see her +first. By Jove!" He broke into a laugh. "It is a joke with a vengeance," +and relapsed into silence that lasted for some miles. + +That night they slept in the old lumber camp, and the afternoon of the +second day found them skirting the Crow's Nest. + +"We've had no luck this trip," growled the Inspector, for now they were +facing toward home. + +"Listen!" said Cameron, pulling up his horse sharply. Down the pass the +faraway beat of a drum was heard. It was the steady throb of the tom-tom +rising and falling with rhythmic regularity. + +"Sun-dance," said the Inspector, as near to excitement as he generally +allowed himself. "Piegans." + +"Where?" said Cameron. + +"In the sun-dance canyon," answered the Inspector. "I believe in my soul +we shall see something now. Must be two miles off. Come on." + +Though late in December the ground was still unfrozen and the new-made +government trail gave soft footing to their horses. And so without fear +of detection they loped briskly along till they began to hear +rising above the throb of the tom-tom the weird chant of the Indian +sun-dancers. + +"They are right down in the canyon," said the Inspector. "I know the +spot well. We can see them from the top. This is their most sacred place +and there is doubtless something big going on." + +They left the main trail and, dismounting, led their horses through +the scrubby woods, which were thick enough to give them cover without +impeding very materially their progress. Within a hundred yards of the +top they tied their horses in the thicket and climbed the slight ascent. +Crawling on hands and knees to the lip of the canyon, they looked down +upon a scene seldom witnessed by the eyes of white men. The canyon was +a long narrow valley, whose rocky sides, covered with underbrush, rose +some sixty feet from a little plain about fifty yards wide. The little +plain was filled with the Indian encampment. At one end a huge fire +blazed. At the other, and some fifty yards away, the lodges were set in +a semicircle, reaching from side to side of the canyon, and in front of +the lodges were a mass of Indian warriors, squatting on their hunkers, +beating time, some with tom-toms, others with their hands, to the +weirdly monotonous chant, that rose and fell in response to the +gesticulations of one who appeared to be their leader. In the centre of +the plain stood a post and round this two circles of dancers leaped +and swayed. In the outer circle the men, with clubs and rifles in their +hands, recited with pantomimic gestures their glorious deeds in the +war or in the chase. The inner circle presented a ghastly and horrid +spectacle. It was composed of younger men, naked and painted, some of +whom were held to the top of the post by long thongs of buffalo hide +attached to skewers thrust through the muscles of the breast or back. +Upon these thongs they swayed and threw themselves in frantic attempts +to break free. With others the skewers were attached by thongs to +buffalo skulls, stones or heavy blocks of wood, which, as they danced +and leaped, tore at the bleeding flesh. Round and round the post the +naked painted Indians leaped, lurching and swaying from side to side +in their desperate efforts to drag themselves free from those tearing +skewers, while round them from the dancing circle and from the mass of +Indians squatted on the ground rose the weird, maddening, savage chant +to the accompaniment of their beating hands and throbbing drums. + +"This is a big dance," said the Inspector, subduing his voice to an +undertone, though in the din there was little chance of his being heard. +"See! many braves have been made already," he added, pointing to a place +on one side of the fire where a number of forms could be seen, some +lying flat, some rolling upon the earth, but all apparently more or less +in a stupor. + +Madder and madder grew the drums, higher and higher rose the chant. +Now and then an older warrior from the squatting circle would fling his +blanket aside and, waving his rifle high in the air, would join with +loud cries and wild gesticulations the outer circle of dancers. + +"It is a big thing this," said the Inspector again. "No squaws, you see, +and all in war paint. They mean business. We must get closer." + +Cameron gripped him by the arm. + +"Look!" he said, pointing to a group of Indians standing at a little +distance beyond the lodges. "Little Thunder and Raven!" + +"Yes, by Jove!" said the Inspector. "And White Horse, and Louis the +Breed and Rainy Cloud of the Blackfeet. A couple of Sarcee chaps, I see, +too, some Piegans and Bloods; the rest are Crees and Assiniboines. The +whole bunch are here. Jove, what a killing if we could get them! Let's +work nearer. Who is that speaking to them?" + +"That's Raven," said Cameron, "and I should like to get my hands on +him." + +"Steady now," said the Inspector. "We must make no mistake." + +They worked along the top of the ravine, crawling through the bushes, +till they were immediately over the little group of which Raven was the +centre. Raven was still speaking, the half-breed interpreting to the +Crees and the Assiniboines, and now and then, as the noise from the +chanting, drumming Indians subsided, the policemen could catch a few +words. After Raven had finished Little Thunder made reply, apparently +in strenuous opposition. Again Raven spoke and again Little Thunder made +reply. The dispute waxed warm. Little Thunder's former attitude towards +Raven appeared to be entirely changed. The old subservience was gone. +The Indian stood now as a Chief among his people and as such was +recognized in that company. He spoke with a haughty pride of conscious +strength and authority. He was striving to bring Raven to his way of +thinking. At length Raven appeared to throw down his ultimatum. + +"No!" he cried, and his voice rang up clear through the din. "You are +fools! You are like little partridges trying to frighten the hunter. The +Great White Mother has soldiers like the leaves of the trees. I know, +for I have seen them. Do not listen to this man!" pointing to Little +Thunder. "Anger has made him mad. The Police with their big guns will +blow you to pieces like this." He seized a bunch of dead leaves, ground +them in his hands and puffed the fragments in their faces. + +The half-breed and Little Thunder were beside themselves with rage. Long +and loud they harangued the group about them. Only a little of their +meaning could the Inspector gather, but enough to let him know that +they were looking down upon a group of conspirators and that plans for a +widespread rebellion were being laid before them. + +Through the harangues of Little Thunder and Louis the half-breed Raven +stood calmly regarding them, his hands on his hips. He knew well, as did +the men watching from above, that all that stood between him and death +were those same two hands and the revolvers in his belt, whose butts +were snugly nosing up to his fingers. Little Thunder had too often seen +those fingers close and do their deadly work while an eyelid might wink +to venture any hasty move. + +"Is that all?" said Raven at last. + +Little Thunder made one final appeal, working himself up into a fine +frenzy of passion. Then Raven made reply. + +"Listen to me!" he said. "It is all folly, mad folly! And besides," and +here his voice rang out like a trumpet, "I am for the Queen, God bless +her!" His figure straightened up, his hands dropped on the butts of his +guns. + +"By Jove!" exclaimed Cameron. "Isn't that great?" + +"Very fine, indeed," said the Inspector softly. Both men's guns were +lined upon the conspirators. + +Then the half-breed spoke, shrugging his shoulders in contempt. + +"Let heem go. Bah! No good." He spat upon the ground. + +Raven stood as he was for a few moments, smiling. + +"Good-bye, all," he said. "Bon jour, Louis. Let no man move! Let no man +move! I never need to shoot at a man twice. Little Thunder knows. And +don't follow!" he added. "I shall be waiting behind the rocks." + +He slowly backed away from the group, turned in behind a sheltering +rock, then swiftly began to climb the rocky sides of the canyon. The +moment he was out of sight Little Thunder dodged in behind the ledges, +found his rifle, and, making a wide detour, began to climb the side of +the ravine at an angle which would cut off Raven's retreat. All this +took place in full view of the two watchers above. + +"Let's get that devil," said the Inspector. But Cameron was already +gone. Swiftly along the lip of the canyon Cameron ran and worked his way +down the side till he stood just over the sloping ledge upon which the +Indian was crouched and waiting. Along this lodge came the unconscious +Raven, softly whistling to himself his favourite air, + + "Three cheers for the red, white and blue." + +There was no way of warning him. Three steps more and he would be within +range. The Inspector raised his gun and drew a bead upon the crouching +Indian. + +"Wait!" whispered Cameron. "Don't shoot. It will bring them all down on +us." Gathering himself together as he spoke, he vaulted clear over +the edge of the rock and dropped fair upon the shoulders of the Indian +below, knocking the breath completely out of him and bearing him flat to +the rock. Like a flash Cameron's hand was on the Indian's throat so that +he could make no outcry. A moment later Raven came in view. Swifter than +light his guns were before his face and levelled at Cameron. + +"Don't shoot!" said the Inspector quietly from above. "I have you +covered." + +Perilous as the situation was, Cameron was conscious only of the +humourous side of it and burst into a laugh. + +"Come here, Raven," he said, "and help me to tie up this fellow." Slowly +Raven moved forward. + +"Why, by all the gods! If it isn't our long-lost friend, Cameron," +he said softly, putting up his guns. "All right, old man," he added, +nodding up at the Inspector. "Now, what's all this? What? Little +Thunder? So! Then I fancy I owe my life to you, Cameron." + +Cameron pointed to Little Thunder's gun. Raven stood looking down +upon the Indian, who was recovering his wind and his senses. His face +suddenly darkened. + +"You treacherous dog! Well, we are now nearly quits. Once you saved my +life, now you would have taken it." + +Meantime Cameron had handcuffed Little Thunder. + +"Up!" he said, prodding him with his revolver. "And not a sound!" + +Keeping within cover of the bushes, they scrambled up the ravine side. +As they reached the top the Indian with a mighty wrench tore himself +from Cameron's grip and plunged into the thicket. Before he had taken a +second step, however, the Inspector was upon him like a tiger and bore +him to the ground. + +"Will you go quietly," said the Inspector, "or must we knock you on the +head?" He raised his pistol over the Indian as he spoke. + +"I go," grunted the Indian solemnly. + +"Come, then," said the Inspector, "we'll give you one chance more. +Where's your friend?" he added, looking about him. But Raven was gone. + +"I am just as glad," said Cameron, remembering Raven's declaration of +allegiance a few moments before. "He wasn't too bad a chap after all. We +have this devil anyhow." + +"Quick, now," said the Inspector. "We have not a moment to lose. This +is an important capture. How the deuce we are to get him to the Fort I +don't know." + +Through the bushes they hurried their prisoner, threatening him with +their guns. When they came to their horses they were amazed to find +Little Thunder's pony beside their own and on the Inspector's saddle a +slip of paper upon which in the fading light they found inscribed "One +good turn deserves another. With Mr. Raven's compliments." + +"By Jove, he's a trump!" said the Inspector. "I'd like to get him, but +all the same--" + +And so they rode off to the Fort. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +NURSE HALEY + + +The railway construction had reached the Beaver, and from Laggan +westward the construction gangs were strewn along the line in straggling +camps, straggling because, though the tents of the railway men were set +in orderly precision, the crowds of camp-followers spread themselves +hither and thither in disorderly confusion around the outskirts of the +camp. + +To Cameron, who for a month had been attached to Superintendent Strong's +division, the life was full of movement and colour. The two constables +and Sergeant Ferry found the duty of keeping order among the navvies, +but more especially among the outlaw herd that lay in wait to fling +themselves upon their monthly pay like wolves upon a kill, sufficiently +arduous to fill to repletion the hours of the day and often of the +night. + +The hospital tent where the little nurse reigned supreme became to +Cameron and to the Sergeant as well a place of refuge and relief. Nurse +Haley was in charge further down the line. + +The post had just come in and with it a letter for Constable Cameron. It +was from Inspector Dickson. + +"You will be interested to know," it ran, "that when I returned from +Stand Off two days ago I found that Little Thunder, who had been waiting +here for his hanging next month, had escaped. How, was a mystery to +everybody; but when I learned that a stranger had been at the Fort and +had called upon the Superintendent with a tale of horse-stealing, had +asked to see Little Thunder and identified him as undoubtedly the thief, +and had left that same day riding a particularly fine black broncho, +I made a guess that we had been honoured by a visit from your friend +Raven. That guess was confirmed as correct by a little note which I +found waiting me from this same gentleman explaining Little Thunder's +absence as being due to Raven's unwillingness to see a man go to the +gallows who had once saved his life, but conveying the assurance that +the Indian was leaving the country for good and would trouble us no +more. The Superintendent, who seems to have been captured by your +friend's charm of manner, does not appear to be unduly worried and holds +the opinion that we are well rid of Little Thunder. But I venture to +hold a different opinion, namely, that we shall yet hear from that +Indian brave before the winter is over. + +"Things are quiet on the reservations--altogether too quiet. The Indians +are so exceptionally well behaved that there is no excuse for arresting +any suspects, so White Horse, Rainy Cloud, those Piegan chaps, and the +rest of them are allowed to wander about at will. The country is full +of Indian and half-breed runners and nightly pow-wows are the vogue +everywhere. Old Crowfoot, I am convinced, is playing a deep game and is +simply waiting the fitting moment to strike. + +"How is the little nurse? Present my duty to her and to that other nurse +over whom hangs so deep a mystery." + +Cameron folded up his letter and imparted some of the news to the +Sergeant. + +"That old Crowfoot is a deep one, sure enough," said Sergeant Ferry. "It +takes our Chief here to bring him to time. Superintendent Strong has the +distinction of being the only man that ever tamed old Crowfoot. Have +you never heard of it? No? Well, of course, we don't talk about these +things. I was there though, and for cold iron nerve I never saw anything +like it. It was a bad half-breed," continued Sergeant Ferry, who, when +he found a congenial and safe companion, loved to spin a yarn--"a bad +half-breed who had been arrested away down the line, jumped off the +train and got away to the Blackfeet. The Commissioner happened to be in +Calgary and asked the Superintendent himself to see about the capture +of this desperado. So with a couple of us mounted and another driving a +buckboard we made for Chief Crowfoot's encampment. It was a black night +and raining a steady drizzle. We lay on the edge of the camp for a +couple of hours in the rain and then at early dawn we rode in. It took +the Superintendent about two minutes to locate Crowfoot's tent, and, +leaving us outside, he walked straight in. There was our man, as large +as life, in the place of honour beside old Crowfoot. The interpreter, +who was scared to death, afterwards told me all about it. + +"'I want this man,' said the Superintendent, hardly waiting to say +good-day to the old Chief. + +"Crowfoot was right up and ready for a fight. The Superintendent, +without ever letting go the half-breed's shoulder, set out the case. +Meantime the Indians had gathered in hundreds about the tent outside, +all armed, and wild for blood, you bet. I could hear the Superintendent +making his statement. All at once he stopped and out he came with his +man by the collar, old Crowfoot after him in a fury, but afraid to give +the signal of attack. The Indians were keen to get at us, but the old +Chief had his men in hand all right. + +"'Don't think you will not get justice,' said the Superintendent. 'You +come yourself and see. Here's a pass for you on the railroad and for +any three of your men. But let me warn you that if one hair of my men is +touched, it will be a bad day for you, Crowfoot, and for your band.' + +"He bundled his man into the buckboard and sent him off. The +Superintendent and I waited on horseback in parley with old Crowfoot +till the buckboard was over the hill. Such a half hour I never expect to +see again. I felt like a man standing over an open keg of gunpowder with +a lighted match. Any moment a spark might fall, and then good-bye. And +it is this same nerve of his that holds down these camps along this +line. Here we are with twenty-five men from Laggan to Beaver keeping +order among twenty-five hundred railroad navvies, not a bad lot, and +twenty-five hundred others, the scum, the very devil's scum from across +the line, and not a murder all these months. Whiskey, of course, but all +under cover. I tell you, he's put the fear of death on all that tinhorn +bunch that hang around these camps." + +"There doesn't seem to be much trouble just now," remarked Cameron. + +"Trouble? There may be the biggest kind of trouble any day. Some of +these contractors are slow in their pay. They expect men to wait a +month or two. That makes them mad and the tinhorn bunch keep stirring +up trouble. Might be a strike any time, and then look out. But our Chief +will be ready for them. He won't stand any nonsense, you bet." + +At this point in the Sergeant's rambling yarn the door was flung open +and a man called breathlessly, "Man killed!" + +"How is that?" cried the Sergeant, springing to buckle on his belt. + +"An accident--car ran away--down the dump." + +"They are altogether too flip with those cars," growled the Sergeant. +"Come on!" + +They ran down the road and toward the railroad dump where they saw a +crowd of men. The Sergeant, followed by Cameron, pushed his way through +and found a number of navvies frantically tearing at a pile of jagged +blocks of rock under which could be seen a human body. It took only a +few minutes to remove the rocks and to discover lying there a young man, +a mere lad, from whose mangled and bleeding body the life appeared to +have fled. + +As they stood about him, a huge giant of a man came tearing his way +through the crowd, pushing men to right and left. + +"Let me see him," he cried, dropping on his knees. "Oh Jack, lad, they +have done for you this time." + +As he spoke the boy opened his eyes, looked upon the face of his friend, +smiled and lay still. Then the Sergeant took command. + +"Is the doctor back, does anyone know?" + +"No, he's up the line yet. He is coming in on number seven." + +"Well, we must get this man to the hospital. Here, you," he said, +touching a man on the arm, "run and tell the nurse we are bringing a +wounded man." + +They improvised a stretcher and laid the mangled form upon it the blood +streaming from wounds in his legs and trickling from his pallid lips. + +"Here, two men are better than four. Cameron, you take the head, and +you," pointing to Jack's friend, "take his feet. Steady now! I'll just +go before. This is a ghastly sight." + +At the door of the hospital tent the little nurse met them, pale, but +ready for service. + +"Oh, my poor boy!" she cried, as she saw the white face. "This way, +Sergeant," she added, passing into a smaller tent at one side of the +hospital. "Oh, Mr. Cameron, is that you? I am glad you are here." + +"Has Nurse Haley come?" enquired the Sergeant. + +"Yes, she came in last night, thank goodness. Here, on this table, +Sergeant. Oh I wish the doctor were here! Now we must lift him on to +this stretcher. Ah, here's Nurse Haley," she added in a relieved voice, +and before Cameron was aware, a girl in a nurse's uniform stood by him +and appeared quietly to take command. + +"Here Sergeant," she said, "two men take his feet." She put her arms +under the boy's shoulder and gently and with apparent ease, assisted by +the others, lifted him to the table. "A little further--there. Now you +are easier, aren't you?" she said, smiling down into the lad's face. Her +voice was low and soft and full toned. + +"Yes, thank you," said the boy, biting back his groans and with a +pitiful attempt at a smile. + +"You're fine now, Jack. You'll soon be fixed up now," said his friend. + +"Yes Pete, I'm all right, I know." + +"Oh, I wish the doctor were here!" groaned the little nurse. + +"What about a hypo?" enquired Nurse Haley quietly. + +"Yes, yes, give him one." + +Cameron's eyes followed the firm, swift-moving fingers as they deftly +gave the hypodermic. + +"Now we must get this bleeding stopped," she said. + +"Get them all out, Sergeant, please," said the little nurse. "One or two +will do to help us. You stay, Mr. Cameron." + +At the mention of his name Nurse Haley, who had been busy preparing +bandages, dropped them, turned, and for the first time looked Cameron in +the face. + +"Is it you?" she said softly, and gave him her hand, and, as more than +once before, Cameron found himself suddenly forgetting all the world. He +was looking into her eyes, blue, deep, wonderful. + +It was only for a single moment that his eyes held hers, but to him it +seemed as if he had been in some far away land. Without a single word of +greeting he allowed her to withdraw her hand. Wonder, and something he +could not understand, held him dumb. + +For the next half hour he obeyed orders, moving as in a dream, assisting +the nurses in their work; and in a dream he went away to his own +quarters and thence out and over the dump and along the tote road that +led through the straggling shacks and across the river into the forest +beyond. But of neither river nor forest was he aware. Before his eyes +there floated an illusive vision of masses of fluffy golden hair above +a face of radiant purity, of deft fingers moving in swift and sure +precision as they wound the white rolls of bandages round bloody and +broken flesh, of two round capable arms whose lines suggested strength +and beauty, of a firm knit, pliant body that moved with easy sinuous +grace, of eyes--but ever at the eyes he paused, forgetting all else, +till, recalling himself, he began again, striving to catch and hold that +radiant, bewildering, illusive vision. That was a sufficiently maddening +process, but to relate that vision of radiant efficient strength +and grace to the one he carried of the farmer's daughter with her +dun-coloured straggling hair, her muddy complexion, her stupid face, +her clumsy, grimy hands and heavy feet, her sloppy figure, was quite +impossible. After long and strenuous attempts he gave up the struggle. + +"Mandy!" he exclaimed aloud to the forest trees. "That Mandy! What's +gone wrong with my eyes, or am I clean off my head? I will go back," he +said with sudden resolution, "and take another look." + +Straight back he walked to the hospital, but at the door he paused. Why +was he there? He had no excuse to offer and without excuse he felt he +could not enter. He was acting like a fool. He turned away and once more +sought his quarters, disgusted with himself that he should be disturbed +by the thought of Mandy Haley or that it should cause him a moment's +embarrassment to walk into her presence with or without excuse, +determinedly he set himself to regain his one-time attitude of mind +toward the girl. With little difficulty he recalled his sense of +superiority, his kindly pity, his desire to protect her crude simplicity +from those who might do her harm. With a vision of that Mandy before +him, the drudge of the farm, the butt of Perkins' jokes, the object of +pity for the neighbourhood, he could readily summon up all the feelings +he had at one time considered it the correct and rather fine thing to +cherish for her. But for this young nurse, so thoroughly furnished and +fit, and so obviously able to care for herself, these feelings would not +come. Indeed, it made him squirm to remember how in his farewell in the +orchard he had held her hand in gentle pity for her foolish and all +too evident infatuation for his exalted and superior self. His groan of +self-disgust he hastily merged into a cough, for the Sergeant had his +eyes upon him. Indeed, the Sergeant did not help his state of mind, for +he persisted in executing a continuous fugue of ecstatic praise of Nurse +Haley in various keys and tempos, her pluck, her cleverness, her skill, +her patience, her jolly laugh, her voice, her eyes. To her eyes the +Sergeant ever kept harking back as to the main motif of his fugue, till +Cameron would have dearly loved to chuck him and his fugue out of doors. + +He was saved from deeds of desperate violence by a voice at the door. + +"Letta fo' Mis Camelon!" + +"Hello, Cameron!" exclaimed the Sergeant, handing him the note. "You're +in luck." There was no mistaking the jealousy in the Sergeant's voice. + +"Oh, hang it!" said Cameron as he read the note. + +"What's up?" + +"Tea!" + +"Who?" enquired the Sergeant eagerly. + +"Me. I say, you go in my place." + +The Sergeant swore at him frankly and earnestly. + +"All right John," said Cameron rather ungraciously. + +"You come?" enquired the Chinaman. + +"Yes, I'll come." + +"All lite!" said John, turning away with his message. + +"Confound the thing!" growled Cameron. + +"Oh come, you needn't put up any bluff with me, you know," said the +Sergeant. + +But Cameron made no reply. He felt he was not ready for the interview +before him. He was distinctly conscious of a feeling of nervous +embarrassment, which to a man of experience is disconcerting and +annoying. He could not make up his mind as to the attitude which it +would be wise and proper for him to assume toward--ah--Nurse Haley. Why +not resume relations at the point at which they were broken off in the +orchard that September afternoon a year and a half ago? Why not? Mandy +was apparently greatly changed, greatly improved. Well, he was delighted +at the improvement, and he would frankly let her see his pleasure and +approval. There was no need for embarrassment. Pshaw! Embarrassment? He +felt none. + +And yet as he stood at the door of the nurses' tent he was disquieted to +find himself nervously wondering what in thunder he should talk about. +As it turned out there was no cause for nervousness on this score. The +little nurse and the doctor--Nurse Haley being on duty--kept the stream +of talk rippling and sparkling in an unbroken flow. Whenever a pause did +occur they began afresh with Cameron and his achievements, of which they +strove to make him talk. But they ever returned to their own work among +the sick and wounded of the camps, and as often as they touched this +theme the pivot of their talk became Nurse Haley, till Cameron began to +suspect design and became wrathful. They were talking at him and were +taking a rise out of him. He would show them their error. He at once +became brilliant. + +In the midst of his scintillation he abruptly paused and sat listening. +Through the tent walls came the sound of singing, low-toned, rich, +penetrating. He had no need to ask about that voice. In silence they +looked at him and at each other. + + "We're going home, no more to roam, + No more to sin and sorrow, + No more to wear the brow of care, + We're going home to-morrow. + + "We're going home; we're going home; + We're going home to-morrow." + +Softer and softer grew the music. At last the voice fell silent. Then +Nurse Haley appeared, radiant, fresh, and sweet as a clover field with +the morning dew upon it, but with a light as of another world upon her +face. + +With the spell of her voice, of her eyes, of her radiant face upon him, +Cameron's scintillation faded and snuffed out. He felt like a boy at his +first party and enraged at himself for so feeling. How bright she was, +how pure her face under the brown gold hair, how dainty the bloom upon +her cheek, and that voice of hers, and the firm lithe body with curving +lines of budding womanhood, grace in every curve and movement! The Mandy +of old faded from his mind. Have I seen you before? And where? And how +long ago? And what's happening to me? With these questions he vexed +his soul while he strove to keep track of the conversation between the +three. + +A call from the other tent summoned Nurse Haley. + +"Let me go instead," cried the little nurse eagerly. But, light-footed +as a deer, Mandy was already gone. + +When the tent flap had fallen behind her Cameron pushed back his plate, +leaned forward upon the table and, looking the little nurse full in the +face, said: + +"Now, it's no use carrying this on. What have you done to her?" And the +little nurse laughed her brightest and most joyous laugh. + +"What has she done to us, you mean." + +"No. Come now, take pity on a fellow. I left her--well--you know what. +And now--how has this been accomplished?" + +"Soul, my boy," said the doctor emphatically, "and the hairdresser +and--" + +But Cameron ignored him. + +"Can you tell me?" he said to the nurse. + +"Well, as a nurse, is she quite impossible?" + +"Oh, spare me," pleaded Cameron. "I acknowledge my sin and my folly is +before me. But tell me, how was this miracle wrought?" + +"What do you mean exactly? Specify." + +"Oh, hang it! Well, beginning at the top, there's her hair." + +"Her hair?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, her complexion--her grace of form--her style--her manner. Oh, +confound it! Her hands--everything." + +"Well," said the little nurse with deliberation, "let's begin at the +top. Her hair? A hairdresser explains that. Her complexion? A little +treatment, massage, with some help from the doctor. Her hands? Again +treatment and release from brutalising work. Her figure? Well, you know, +that depends, though we don't acknowledge it always, to a certain extent +on--well--things--and how you put them on." + +"Nurse," said the doctor gravely, "you're all off. The transformation +is from within and is explained, as I have said, by one word--soul. The +soul has been set free, has been allowed to break through. That is all. +Why, my dear fellow," continued the doctor with rising enthusiasm, "when +that girl came to us we were in despair; and for three months she kept +us there, pursuing us, hounding us with questions. Never saw anything +like it. One telling was enough though. Her eyes were everywhere, her +ears open to every hint, but it was her soul, like a bird imprisoned and +beating for the open air. The explanation is, as I have said just now, +soul--intense, flaming, unquenchable soul--and, I must say it, the +dressmaker, the hairdresser, and the rest directed by our young friend +here," pointing to the little nurse. "Why, she had us all on the job. We +all became devotees of the Haley Cult." + +"No," said the nurse, "it was herself." + +"Isn't that what I have been telling you?" said the doctor impatiently. +"Soul--soul--soul! A soul somehow on fire." + +And with that Cameron had to be content. + +Yes, a soul it was, at one time dormant and enwrapped within its coarse +integument. Now, touched into life by some divine fire, it had through +its own subtle power transformed that coarse integument into its own +pure gold. What was that fire? What divine touch had kindled it? And, +more important still, was that fire still aglow, or, having done +its work, had it for lack of food flickered and died out? With these +questions Cameron vexed himself for many days, nor found an answer. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"CORPORAL" CAMERON + + +Jack Green did not die. Every morning for a fortnight Constable +Cameron felt it to be his duty to make enquiry--the Sergeant, it may be +added--performing the same duty with equal diligence in the afternoon, +and every day the balance, which trembled evenly for some time between +hope and fear, continued to dip more and more decidedly toward the +former. + +"He's going to live, I believe," said Dr. Martin one day. "And he owes +it to the nurse." The doctor's devotion to and admiration for Nurse +Haley began to appear to Cameron unnecessarily pronounced. "She simply +would not let him go!" continued the doctor. "She nursed him, sang +to him her old 'Come all ye' songs and Methodist hymns, she spun him +barnyard yarns and orchard idyls, and always 'continued in our next,' +till the chap simply couldn't croak for wanting to hear the next." + +At times Cameron caught through the tent walls snatches of those songs +and yarns and idyls, at times he caught momentary glimpses of the bright +young girl who was pouring the vigour of her life into the lad fighting +for his own, but these snatches and glimpses only exasperated him. There +was no opportunity for any lengthened and undisturbed converse, for on +the one hand the hospital service was exacting beyond the strength +of doctor and nurses, and on the other there was serious trouble for +Superintendent Strong and his men in the camps along the line, for a +general strike had been declared in all the camps and no one knew at +what minute it might flare up into a fierce riot. + +It was indeed exasperating to Cameron. The relations between himself and +Nurse Haley were unsatisfactory, entirely unsatisfactory. It was clearly +his duty--indeed he owed it to her and to himself--to arrive at some +understanding, to establish their relations upon a proper and reasonable +basis. He was at very considerable pains to make it clear, not only +to the Sergeant, but to the cheerful little nurse and to the doctor as +well, that as her oldest friend in the country it was incumbent upon him +to exercise a sort of kindly protectorate over Nurse Haley. In this +it is to be feared he was only partially successful. The Sergeant was +obviously and gloomily incredulous of the purity of his motives, the +little nurse arched her eyebrows and smiled in a most annoying manner, +while the doctor pendulated between good-humoured tolerance and mild +sarcasm. It added not a little to Cameron's mental disquiet that he was +quite unable to understand himself; indeed, through these days he was +engaged in conducting a bit of psychological research, with his own +mind as laboratory and his mental phenomena as the materia for his +investigation. It was a most difficult and delicate study and one +demanding both leisure and calm--and Cameron had neither. The brief +minutes he could snatch from Her Majesty's service were necessarily +given to his friends in the hospital and as to the philosophic calm +necessary to research work, a glimpse through the door of Nurse Haley's +golden head bending over a sick man's cot, a snatch of song in the deep +mellow tones of her voice, a touch of her strong firm hand, a quiet +steady look from her deep, deep eyes--any one of these was sufficient to +scatter all his philosophic determinings to the winds and leave his soul +a chaos of confused emotions. + +Small wonder, then, that twenty times a day he cursed the luck that +had transferred him from the comparatively peaceful environment of +the Police Post at Fort Macleod to the maddening whirl of conflicting +desires and duties attendant upon the Service in the railroad +construction camps. A letter from his friend Inspector Dickson +accentuated the contrast. + +"Great doings, my boy," wrote the Inspector, evidently under the spell +of overmastering excitement. "We have Little Thunder again in the toils, +this time to stay, and we owe this capture to your friend Raven. A +week ago Mr. Raven coolly walked into the Fort and asked for the +Superintendent. I was down at stables at the time. As he was coming out +I ran into him and immediately shouted 'Hands up!' + +"'Ah, Mr. Inspector,' said my gentleman, as cool as ice, 'delighted to +see you again.' + +"'Stand where you are!' I said, and knowing my man and determined to +take no chances, I ordered two constables to arrest him. At this the +Superintendent appeared. + +"'Ah, Inspector,' he said, 'there is evidently some mistake here.' + +"'There is no mistake, Superintendent,' I replied. 'I know this man. He +is wanted on a serious charge.' + +"'Kindly step this way, Mr. Raven,' said the Superintendent, 'and you, +Inspector. I have something of importance to say to you.' + +"And, by Jove, it was important. Little Thunder had broken his pledge +to Raven to quit the rebellion business and had perfected a plan for +a simultaneous rising of Blackfeet, Bloods, Piegans, and Sarcees next +month. Raven had stumbled upon this and had deliberately put himself +in the power of the Police to bring this information. 'I am not quite +prepared,' he said, 'to hand over this country to a lot of bally +half-breeds and bloody savages.' Together the Superintendent and he had +perfected a plan for the capture of the heads of the conspiracy. + +"'As to that little matter of which you were thinking, Inspector +Dickson,' said my Chief, 'I think if you remember, we have no definite +charge laid against Mr. Raven, who has given us, by the way, very +valuable information upon which we must immediately act. We are also to +have Mr. Raven's assistance.' + +"Well, we had a glorious hunt, and by Jove, that man Raven is a wonder. +He brought us right to the bunch, walked in on them, cool and quiet, +pulled two guns and held them till we all got in place. There will be no +rebellion among these tribes this year, I am confident." + +And though it does not appear in the records it is none the less true +that to the influence of Missionary Macdougall among the Stonies and to +the vigilance of the North West Mounted Police was it due that during +the Rebellion of '85 Canada was spared the unspeakable horrors of an +Indian war. + +It was this letter that deepened the shadow upon Cameron's face and +sharpened the edge on his voice as he looked in upon his hospital +friends one bright winter morning. + +"You are quite unbearable!" said the little nurse after she had listened +to his grumbling for a few minutes. "And you are spoiling us all." + +"Spoiling you all?" + +"Yes, especially me, and--Nurse Haley." + +"Nurse Haley?" + +"Yes. You are disturbing her peace of mind." + +"Disturbing her? Me?" + +A certain satisfaction crept into Cameron's voice. Nothing is so +calculated to restore the poise of the male mind as a consciousness of +power to disturb the equilibrium of one of the imperious sex. + +"And you must not do it!" continued the little nurse. "She has far too +much to bear now." + +"And haven't I been just telling you that?" said Cameron savagely. "She +never gets off. Night and day she is on the job. I tell you, I won't--it +should not be allowed." Cameron was conscious of a fine glow of +fraternal interest in this young girl. "For instance, a day like this! +Look at these white mountains, and that glorious sky, and this wonderful +air, and not a breath of wind! What a day for a walk! It would do +her--it would do you all a world of good." + +"Wait!" cried the little nurse, who had been on duty all night. "I'll +tell her what you say." + +Apparently it took some telling, for it was a full precious quarter of +an hour before they appeared again. + +"There, now, you see the effect of your authority. She would not budge +for me, but--well--there she is! Look at her!" + +There was no need for this injunction. Cameron's eyes were already +fastened upon her. And she was worth any man's while to look at in her +tramping costume of toque and blanket coat. Tall, she looked, beside +the little nurse, lithe and strong, her close-fitting Hudson Bay blanket +coat revealing the swelling lines of her budding womanhood. The dainty +white toque perched upon the masses of gold-brown hair accentuated the +girlish freshness of her face. At the nurse's words she turned her eyes +upon Cameron and upon her face, pale with long night watches, a faint +red appeared. But her eyes were quiet and steady and kind; too quiet and +too kind for Cameron, who was looking for other signals. There was no +sign of disturbance in that face. + +"Come on!" he said impatiently. "We have only one hour." + +"Oh, what a glorious day!" cried Nurse Haley, drawing a deep breath and +striding out like a man to keep pace with Cameron. "And how good of you +to spare me the time!" + +"I have been trying to get you alone for the last two weeks," said +Cameron. + +"Two weeks?" + +"Yes, for a month! I wanted to talk to you." + +"To talk with me? About what?" + +"About--well--about everything--about yourself." + +"Me?" + +"Yes. I don't understand you. You have changed so tremendously." + +"Oh," exclaimed the girl, "I am so glad you have noticed that! Have I +changed much?" + +"Much? I should say so! I find myself wondering if you are the Mandy I +used to know at all." + +"Oh," she exclaimed, "I am so glad! You see, I needed to change so +much." + +"But how has it happened?" exclaimed Cameron. "It is a miracle to me." + +"How a miracle?" + +For a few moments they walked on in silence, the tote road leading them +into the forest. After a time the nurse said softly, + +"It was you who began it." + +"I?" + +"Yes, you--and then the nurse. Oh, I can never repay her! The day that +you left--that was a dreadful day. The world was all black. I could not +have lived, I think, many days like that. I had to go into town and I +couldn't help going to her. Oh, how good she was to me that day! how +good! She understood, she understood at once. She made me come for a +week to her, and then for altogether. That was the beginning; then I +began to see how foolish I had been." + +"Foolish?" + +"Yes, wildly foolish! I was like a mad thing, but I did not know then, +and I could not help it." + +"Help what?" + +"Oh, everything! But the nurse showed me--she showed me--" + +"Showed you?" + +"Showed me how to take care of myself--to take care of my body--of my +dress--of my hair. Oh, I remember well," she said with a bright little +laugh, "I remember that hair-dresser. Then the doctor came and gave me +books and made me read and study--and then I began to see. Oh, it was +like a fire--a burning fire within me. And the doctor was good to me, +so very patient, till I began to love my profession; to love it at first +for myself, and then for others. How good they all were to me those +days!--the nurses in the hospital, the doctors, the students--everyone +seemed to be kind; but above them all my own nurse here and my own +doctor." + +In hurried eager speech she poured forth her heart as if anxious to +finish her tale--her voice, her eyes, her face all eloquent of the +intense emotion that filled her soul. + +"It is wonderful!" said Cameron. + +"Yes," she replied, "wonderful indeed! And I wanted to see you and have +you see me," she continued, still hurrying her speech, "for I could not +bear that you should remember me as I was those dreadful days; and I am +so glad that you--you--are pleased!" The appeal in her voice and in her +eyes roused in Cameron an overwhelming tide of passion. + +"Pleased!" he cried. "Pleased! Great Heavens, Mandy! You are wonderful! +Don't you know that?" + +"No," she said thoughtfully; "but," she drew a long breath, "I like to +hear you say it. That is all I want. You see I owe it all to you." The +face she turned to him so innocently happy might have been a child's. + +"Mandy," cried Cameron, stopping short in his walk, "you--I--!" That +frank childlike look in her eyes checked his hot words. But there was +no need for words; his eyes spoke for his faltering lips. A look of fear +leaped to her eyes, a flow of red blood to her cheeks; then she stood, +white, trembling and silent. + +"I am tired, I think," she said after a moment's silence, "we will go +back." + +"Yes, you are tired," said Cameron angrily. "You are tired to death. +Mandy, you need some one to take care of you. I wish you would let me." +They were now walking back toward the town. + +"They are all good to me; they are all kind to me." Her voice was quiet +and steady. She had gained control of herself again. "Why, even John the +Chinaman," she added with a laugh, "spoils me. Oh, no harm can come to +me--I have no fear!" + +"But," said Cameron, "I--I want to take care of you, Mandy. I want the +right to take care of you, always." + +"I know, I know," she said kindly. "You are so good; you were always so +good; but I need no one." + +Cameron glanced at the lithe, strong, upright figure striding along +beside him with easy grace; and the truth came to him in swift and +painful revelation. + +"You are right," he said as if to himself. "You need no one, and you +don't need me." + +"But," she cried eagerly, "it was good of you all the same." + +"Good!" he said impatiently. "Good! Nonsense! I tell you, Mandy, I want +you, I want you. Do you understand? I want to marry you." + +"Oh, don't say that!" she cried, stopping short, her voice disturbed, +but kindly, gentle and strong. "Don't say that," she repeated, "for, of +course, that is impossible." + +"Impossible!" he exclaimed angrily. + +"Yes," she said, her voice still quiet and steady, "quite impossible. +But I love you for saying it, oh--," she suddenly caught her breath. +"Oh, I love you for saying it." Then pointing up the road she cried, +"Look! Some one for you, I am sure." A horseman was galloping swiftly +towards them. + +"Oh hang it all!" said Cameron. "What the deuce does he want now?" + +"We must talk this out again, Mandy," he said. + +"No, no!" she cried, "never again. Please don't, ever again; I could not +bear it. But I shall always remember, and--I am so glad." As she spoke, +her hands, with her old motion, went to her heart. + +"Oh the deuce take it!" said Cameron as the Sergeant flung his horse +back on his heels at their side. "What does he want?" + +"Constable Cameron," said the Sergeant in a voice of sharp command, +"there's a row on. Constable Scott has been very badly handled in trying +to make an arrest. You are to report at once for duty." + +"All right, Sir," said Cameron, "I shall return immediately." + +The Sergeant wheeled and was gone. + +"You must go!" cried Mandy, quick fear springing into her eyes. + +"Yes," said Cameron, "at once. Come, I shall take you home." + +"No, never mind me!" she cried. "Go! Go! I can take care of myself. I +shall follow." Her voice rang out strong and clear; she was herself once +more. + +"You are the right sort, Mandy," cried Cameron, taking her hand. "Good +bye!" + +"Good bye!" she replied, her face suddenly pale and her lips beginning +to quiver. "I shall always remember--I--shall--always be glad for--what +you said today." + +Cameron stood looking at her for a moment somewhat uncertainly, then, + +"Good bye!" he said abruptly, and, turning, went at the double towards +his quarters. + +The strikers had indeed broken loose, supported by the ruffianly horde +of camp followers who were egging them on to violence and destruction of +property. At present they were wild with triumph over the fact that they +had rescued one of their leaders, big Joe Coyle, from Constable Scott. +It was an exceedingly dangerous situation, for the riot might easily +spread from camp to camp. Bruised and bloody, Constable Scott reported +to Superintendent Strong lying upon his sick bed. + +"Sergeant," said the Superintendent, "take Constables Cameron and Scott, +arrest that man at once and bring him here!" + +In the village they found between eight hundred and a thousand men, many +of them crazed with bad whiskey, some armed with knives and some with +guns, and all ready for blood. Big Joe Coyle they found in the saloon. +Pushing his way through, the Sergeant seized his man by the collar. + +"Come along, I want you!" he said, dragging him to the open door. + +"Shut that there door, Hep!" drawled a man with a goatee and a moustache +dyed glossy black. + +"All right, Bill!" shouted the man called Hep, springing to the door; +but before he could make it Cameron had him by the collar. + +"Hold on, Hep!" he said, "not so fast." + +For answer Hep struck hard at him and the crowd of men threw themselves +at Cameron and between him and the door. Constable Scott, who also had +his hand upon the prisoner, drew his revolver and looked towards the +Sergeant who was struggling in the grasp of three or four ruffians. + +"No!" shouted the Sergeant above the uproar. "Don't shoot--we have no +orders! Let him go!" + +"Go on!" he said savagely, giving his prisoner a final shake. "We will +come back for you." + +There was a loud chorus of derisive cheers. The crowd opened and allowed +the Sergeant and constables to pass out. Taking his place at the saloon +door with Constable Scott, the Sergeant sent Cameron to report and ask +for further orders. + +"Ask if we have orders to shoot," said the Sergeant. + +Cameron found the Superintendent hardly able to lift his head and made +his report. + +"The saloon is filled with men who oppose the arrest, Sir. What are your +orders?" + +"My orders are, Bring that man here, and at once!" + +"Have we instructions to shoot?" + +"Shoot!" cried the Superintendent, lifting himself on his elbow. "Bring +that man if you have to shoot every man in the saloon!" + +"Very well, Sir, we will bring him," said Cameron, departing on a run. + +At the door of the saloon he found the Sergeant and Constable white hot +under the jeers and taunts of the half drunken gang gathered about them. + +"What are the orders, Constable Cameron?" enquired the Sergeant in a +loud voice. + +"The orders are, Shoot every man in the saloon if necessary!" shouted +Cameron. + +"Revolvers!" commanded the Sergeant. "Constable Cameron, hold the door! +Constable Scott, follow me!" + +At the door stood the man named Hep, evidently keeping guard. + +"Want in?" he said with a grin. + +For answer, Cameron gripped his collar, with one fierce jerk lifted him +clear out of the door to the platform, and then, putting his body into +it, heaved him with a mighty swing far into the crowd below, bringing +two or three men to the ground with the impact of his body. + +"Come here, man!" cried Cameron again, seizing a second man who stood +near the door and flinging him clear off the platform after the unlucky +Hep. + +Speedily the crowd about the door gave back, and before they were aware +the Sergeant and Constable Scott appeared with big Joe Coyle between +them. + +"Take him!" said the Sergeant to Cameron. + +Cameron seized him by the collar. + +"Come here!" he said, and, clearing the platform in a spring, he brought +his prisoner in a heap with him. "Get up!" he roared at him, jerking him +to his feet as if he had been a child. + +"Let him go!" shouted the man with the goatee, named Bill, rushing up. + +"Take that, then," said Cameron, giving him a swift half-arm jab on the +jaw, "and I'll come back for you again," he added, as the man fell back +into the arms of his friends. + +"Forward!" said the Sergeant, falling in with Constable Scott behind +Cameron and facing the crowd with drawn revolvers. The swift fierceness +of the attack seemed to paralyse the senses of the crowd. + +"Come on, boys!" yelled the goatee man, bloody and savage with Cameron's +blow. "Don't let the blank blank blank rattle you like a lot of blank +blank chickens. Come on!" + +At once rose a roar from eight hundred throats like nothing human in +its sound, and the crowd began to press close upon the Police. But the +revolvers had an ugly appearance to those in front looking into their +little black throats. + +"Aw, come on!" yelled a man half drunk, running with a lurch upon the +Sergeant. + +"Crack!" went the Sergeant's revolver, and the man dropped with a bullet +through his shoulder. + +"Next man," shouted the Sergeant, "I shall kill!" + +The crowd gave back and gathered round the wounded man. A stream lay in +the path of the Police, crossed by a little bridge. + +"Hurry!" said the Sergeant, "let's make the bridge before they come +again." But before they could make the bridge the crowd had recovered +from their momentary panic and, with wild oaths and yells and +brandishing knives and guns, came on with a rush, led by goatee Bill. + +Already the prisoner was half way across the bridge, the Sergeant and +the constable guarding the entrance, when above the din was heard a roar +as of some animal enraged. Looking beyond the Police the crowd beheld +a fearsome sight. It was the Superintendent himself, hatless, and with +uniform in disarray, a sword in one hand, a revolver in the other. +Across the bridge he came like a tornado and, standing at the entrance, +roared, + +"Listen to me, you dogs! The first man who sets foot on this bridge I +shall shoot dead, so help me God!" + +His towering form, his ferocious appearance and his well-known +reputation for utter fearlessness made the crowd pause and, before they +could make up their minds to attack that resolute little company headed +by their dread commander, the prisoner was safe over the bridge and +well up the hill toward the guard room. Half way up the hill the +Superintendent met Cameron returning from the disposition of his +prisoner. + +"There's another man down there, Sir, needs looking after," he said. + +"Better let them cool off, Cameron," said the Superintendent. + +"I promised I'd go for him, Sir," said Cameron, his face all ablaze for +battle. + +"Then go for him," said the Superintendent. "Let a couple of you go +along--but I am done--just now." + +"We will see you up the hill, Sir," said the Sergeant. + +"Come on, Scott!" said Cameron, setting off for the village once more. + +The crowd had returned from the bridge and the leaders had already +sought their favourite resort, the saloon. Straight to the door marched +Cameron, followed by Scott. Close to the counter stood goatee Bill, +loudly orating, and violently urging the breaking in of the guard room +and the release of the prisoner. + +"In my country," he yelled, "we'd have that feller out in about six +minutes in spite of all the blank blank Police in this blank country. +THEY ain't no good. They're scairt to death." + +At this point Cameron walked in upon him and laid a compelling grip upon +his collar. Instantly Bill reached for his gun, but Cameron, swiftly +shifting his grip to his arm, wrenched him sharply about and struck him +one blow on the ear. As if held by a hinge, the head fell over on one +side and the man slithered to the floor. + +"Out of the way!" shouted Cameron, dragging his man with him, but just +as he reached the door a heavy glass came singing through the air and +caught him on the head. For a moment he staggered, caught hold of the +lintel and held himself steady. + +"Here, Scott," he cried, "put the bracelets on him." + +With revolver drawn Constable Scott sprang to his side. + +"Come out!" he said to the goatee man, slipping the handcuffs over his +wrists, while Cameron, still clinging to the lintel, was fighting back +the faintness that was overpowering him. Seeing his plight, Hep sprang +toward him, eager for revenge, but Cameron covering him with his gun +held him in check and, with a supreme effort getting command of himself, +again stepped towards Hep. + +"Now, then," he said between his clenched teeth, "will you come?" So +terrible were his voice and look that Hep's courage wilted. + +"I'll come, Colonel, I'll come," he said quickly. + +"Come then," said Cameron, reaching for him and bringing him forward +with a savage jerk. + +In three minutes from the time the attack was made both men, thoroughly +subdued and handcuffed, were marched off in charge of the constables. + +"Hurry, Scott," said Cameron in a low voice to his comrade. "I am nearly +in." + +With all possible speed they hustled their prisoners along over the +bridge and up the hill. At the hospital door, as they passed, Dr. Martin +appeared. + +"Hello, Cameron!" he cried. "Got him, eh? Great Caesar, man, what's +up?" he added as Cameron, turning his head, revealed a face and neck +bathed in blood. "You are white as a ghost." + +"Get me a drink, old chap. I am nearly in," said Cameron in a faint +voice. + +"Come into my tent here," said the doctor. + +"Got to see these prisoners safe first," said Cameron, swaying on his +feet. + +"Come in, you idiot!" cried the doctor. + +"Go in, Cameron," said Constable Scott. "I'll take care of 'em all +right," he added, drawing his gun. + +"No," said Cameron, still with his hand on goatee Bill's collar. "I'll +see them safe first," saying which he swayed drunkenly about and, but +for Bill's support, would have fallen. + +"Go on!" said Bill good-naturedly. "Don't mind me. I'm good now." + +"Come!" said the doctor, supporting him into the tent. + +"Forward!" commanded Constable Scott, and marched his prisoners before +him up the hill. + +The wound on Cameron's head was a ghastly affair, full six inches long, +and went to the bone. + +"Rather ugly," said the doctor, feeling round the wound. "Nurse!" he +called. "Nurse!" The little nurse came running in. "Some water and a +sponge!" + +There was a cry behind her--low, long, pitiful. + +"Oh, what is this?" With a swift movement Nurse Haley was beside the +doctor's bed. Cameron, who had been lying with his eyes closed and was +ghastly white from loss of blood, opened his eyes and smiled up into the +face above him. + +"I feel fine--now," he said and closed his eyes again. + +"Let me do that," said Nurse Haley with a kind of jealous fierceness, +taking the sponge and basin from the little nurse. + +Examination revealed nothing more serious, however, than a deep scalp +wound and a slight concussion. + +"He will be fit enough in a couple of days," said the doctor when the +wound was dressed. + +Then, pale and haggard as if with long watching, Nurse Haley went to her +room there to fight out her lonely fight while Cameron slept. + +The day passed in quiet, the little nurse on guard, and the doctor +looking in every half hour upon his patient. As evening fell Cameron +woke and demanded Nurse Haley. The doctor felt his pulse. + +"Send her in!" he said and left the tent. + +The rays of the sun setting far down the Pass shone through the walls +and filled the tent with a soft radiance. Into this radiance she came, +her face pale as of one who has come through conflict, and serene as of +one who has conquered, pale and strong and alight, not with the radiance +of the setting sun, but with light of a soul that has made the ancient +sacrifice of self-effacing love. + +"You want me?" she said, her voice low and sweet, but for all her brave +serenity tremulous. + +"Yes," said Cameron, holding out his arms. "I want you; I want YOU, +Mandy." + +"Oh," cried the girl, while her hands fluttered to her heart, "don't ask +me to go through it again. I am so weak." She stood like a frightened +bird poised for flight. + +"Come," he said, "I want you." + +"You want me? You said you wanted to take care of me," she breathed. + +"I was a fool, Mandy; a conceited fool! Now I know what I want--I +want--just YOU. Come." Again he lifted his arms. + +"Oh, it cannot be," she breathed as if to herself. "Are you sure--sure? +I could not bear it if you were not sure." + +"Come, dear love," he cried, "with all my heart and soul and body I want +you--I want only YOU." + +For a single moment longer she stood, her soul searching his through her +wonderful eyes. Then with a little sigh she sank into his arms. + +"Oh, my darling," she whispered, wreathing her strong young arms around +his neck and laying her cheek close to his, "my darling, I thought I had +given you up, but how could I have done it?" + +At the hospital door the doctor was on guard. A massive figure loomed in +the doorway. + +"Hello, Superintendent Strong, what on earth are you doing out of bed?" + +"Where is he?" said the Superintendent abruptly. + +"Who?" + +"Corporal Cameron." + +"CORPORAL Cameron? Constable Cameron is--" + +"Corporal Cameron, I said. I have just had Constable Scott's report and +felt I must see him at once." + +"Come in, Superintendent! Sit down! I shall enquire if he is resting. +Nurse! Nurse! Enquire if Corporal Cameron can be seen." + +The little nurse tip-toed into the doctor's tent, lifted the curtain, +took one glance and drew swiftly back. This is what her eyes looked +upon. A girl's form kneeling by the bed, golden hair mingling with black +upon the pillow, two strong arms holding her close and hers wreathed in +answering embrace. + +"Mr. Cameron I am afraid," she reported, "cannot be seen. He is--I +think--he is--engaged." + +"Ah!" said the doctor. + +"Well," said the Superintendent, "just tell Corporal Cameron for me that +I am particularly well pleased with his bearing to-day, and that I hope +he will be very soon fit for duty." + +"Certainly, Superintendent. Now let me help you up the hill." + +"Never mind, here's the Sergeant. Good evening! Very fine thing! Very +fine thing indeed! I see rapid promotion in his profession for that +young man." + +"Inspector, eh?" said the doctor. + +"Yes, Sir, I should without hesitation recommend him and should be only +too pleased to have him as Inspector in my command." + +It was not, however, as Inspector that Corporal Cameron served under the +gallant Superintendent, but in another equally honourable capacity did +they ride away together one bright April morning a few weeks later, on +duty for their Queen and country. But that is another story. + +"That message ought to be delivered, nurse," said the doctor +thoughtfully. + +"But not at once," replied the nurse. + +"It is important," urged the doctor. + +"Yes, but--there are other things." + +"Ah! Other things?" + +"Yes, equally--pressing," said the nurse with an undeniably joyous +laugh. The doctor looked at her a moment. + +"Ah, nurse," he said in a shocked tone, "how often have I deprecated +your tendency to--" + +"I don't care one bit!" laughed the nurse saucily. + +"The message ought to be delivered," insisted the doctor firmly as he +moved toward the tent door. + +"Well, deliver it then. But wait!" The little nurse ran in before him +and called "Nu-u-u-r-s-e Ha-l-ey!" + +"All right!" called Cameron from the inside. "Come in!" + +"Go on then," said the little nurse to the doctor, "you wanted to." + +"A message from the Superintendent," said the doctor, lifting the +curtain and passing in. + +"Don't move, Mandy," said Cameron. "Never mind him." + +"No, don't, I beg," said the doctor, ignoring what he saw. "A message, +an urgent message for--Corporal Cameron!" + +"CORPORAL Cameron?" echoed Nurse Haley. + +"He distinctly said and repeated it--Corporal Cameron. And the Corporal +is to report for duty as speedily as possible." + +"He can't go," said Mandy, standing up very straight with a light in +her eyes that the doctor had not seen since that tragic night nearly two +years before. + +"Can't, eh?" said the doctor. "But the Superintendent says Corporal +Cameron is--" + +"Corporal Cameron can't go!" + +"You--" + +"Yes, I forbid it." + +"The Corporal is--?" + +"Yes," she said proudly, "the Corporal is mine." + +"Then," said the doctor emphatically, "of all the lucky chaps it has +been my fortune to meet, by all the gods the luckiest of them is this +same Corporal Cameron!" + +And Cameron, drawing down to him again the girl standing so straight and +proud beside him, looked up at his friend and said: + +"Yes, old chap, the luckiest man in all the world is that same Corporal +Cameron." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Corporal Cameron, by Ralph Connor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CORPORAL CAMERON *** + +***** This file should be named 3241.txt or 3241.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/3241/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +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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