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diff --git a/old/65382-0.txt b/old/65382-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 332cf4d..0000000 --- a/old/65382-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7860 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Crimson West, by Alex. Philip - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Crimson West - -Author: Alex. Philip - -Release Date: May 19, 2021 [eBook #65382] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Al Haines, Cindy Beyer & the online Distributed Proofreaders - Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRIMSON WEST *** - - - - - - [Cover Illustration] - - - - - =THE CRIMSON WEST= - - =BY= - =ALEX. PHILIP= - - =There in the East we dreamed our dreams of the things we hoped to - do,= - =And here in the West, the crimson West, the dreams of the East come - true.= - - =—_Donald Malloch_= - - THOMAS ALLEN, PUBLISHER, TORONTO - - - - - PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY PURNELL AND SONS - PAULTON, SOMERSET, ENGLAND - - To - - Those Fortunates Who First Saw The Light Of Day In This Glorious - Country, And With Whom Rests The Future Prosperity Of The Land - of Their Birth—THE NATIVE SONS OF CANADA—This Book is - respectfully dedicated - - - - - THE CRIMSON WEST - - - - - CHAPTER I - - -Jangling his keys on their big ring, the sheriff led John McLean down -several steps, then through a long, narrow hall to the rear of the jail. -From a distant corridor came the sound of a raucous voice attempting to -sing one of the popular ragtimes of the day. - -“Some fellow’s still got a ‘hang-over,’” observed the sheriff as he -paused before a cell, consulted a number, then searched for the key. As -the door swung open a sleepy voice was raised in mock solemnity. - -“What ho, varlet! Why dost thou open the dungeon door? Has the king -granted a reprieve?” His eyes blinking, the inmate stepped into the -bright light of the hall. A dull red suffused his pale face as he saw -the tall figure behind the sheriff. - -“Hello, Dad! Nice morning,” he smiled in a weak attempt at joviality, -but the smile faded as he sensed a change in his father. - -“My son arrested in a low gambling den!” the father said bitterly. -“Donald, you have disgraced the family name. Your drinking carousals and -gambling can have but one end. I have been too easy with you. For your -own good I’m going to turn you loose. Until such time as you can return -to me rid of your bad habits, and have proven yourself a man, you are -not a son of mine. I—I’m done with you.” - -Donald’s father turned abruptly on his heel and strode swiftly down the -passage. It had been a tremendous test of his will power to make this -short speech, and to resist the almost overmastering desire to take his -boy in his arms. - -The young man stood with mouth agape, a stupefied look in his eyes, and -stared after the retreating form of his parent. The sheriff broke the -silence. “We’ll go upstairs, Don!” - -On the upper floor the desk sergeant handed the released prisoner his -watch and money, taken from him, as is the custom, the night before. The -sheriff motioned to a seat. - -“Sit down. I want to talk with you.” - -Donald listlessly obeyed. - -“Sorry, boy, but I had to do it,” the sheriff said in a kindly voice. - -“It’s all right, Jim. There’s no hard feelings.” - -“What are you going to do?” - -“I don’t know,” Donald admitted dully. - -“How much money have you got?” - -Donald stood up and drew from his pocket a few crumpled bills and some -loose change, then threw out his arms in an eloquent gesture. As he -stood with the slanting rays of a late December sun shining on his black -hair, he presented a wonderful specimen of man. Six feet in height, of a -deceptive slenderness, his rather tight-fitting grey suit set off the -graceful lines of a supple body. His shoulders were wide, with the -gentle slope that denotes agility as well as strength. His fine white -skin and long black lashes would have given his features an effeminate -touch but for the manly mould of his face, with its square jaw, broad -forehead, and deep, wide-set eyes. - -The sheriff’s appraising eyes glowed with admiration as they rested on -the young man. To the casual eye Donald appeared of slight build, but -his old friend knew of the steel-like muscles of those arms and the -strength of the long, straight legs. - -The mind of the older man flashed back to a football game in Donald’s -High School days, with the State championship at stake. Donald had been -sent into the game at the eleventh hour, and with defeat staring the -home team in the face he had torn through the opposing lines like a -madman for agonizing gains until his dark head flashed across the line -to victory. - -Donald came embarrassedly to his feet. - -“Well, I guess I’ll be moving.” - -“Here, boy, take this,” the sheriff said awkwardly, thrusting a roll of -bills into Donald’s hand. - -The young man’s face flushed. “It’s awfully good of you, Jim, but I——” - -“It’s all right, Don,” interrupted the older man, summoning a smile. -“I’m just giving you a loan.” - -Donald looked at him soberly. “I’ll pay you back when—I—I—earn it.” - -His face very serious, the sheriff placed a hand on Donald’s shoulder. - -“Now, listen, Don. Your father and I talked here in the office for an -hour before he bailed you out, and we agreed that the best thing was to -let you go on your own. No, I am not going to give you a lecture, for -you are not wholly to blame. Having a rich father is not the best thing -for a young fellow, but because you got fired out of college should not -make a husky boy like you lose his grip. You just step out and buck the -line like you do in football and you’ll sure make a touchdown.” He -gripped Donald’s hand. “Good-bye and good luck, Donnie!” he added -feelingly. - -Donald crossed the street to the Hancock House and sank moodily to a -chair in the corner of the lobby. His confinement in the jail and the -preceding festivities had robbed him of a night’s rest, and he suddenly -realized that he was very tired and sleepy. Forgetting the change in his -circumstances, he engaged an expensive room on the first floor and -immediately went to bed. - -Upon awakening Donald switched on the light and lay for awhile trying to -adjust himself to this new situation. Serious meditation, however, -brought him no nearer a solution of his problem. A cold bath, followed -by a brisk rub down and clean linen, removed all the remaining traces of -his night of wild revelry. - -The news of John McLean’s break with his son spread rapidly through the -small New England city. On his way to the desk to order his baggage to -be sent to the dock Donald was beset by several friends who were loud in -voicing their sympathy. Extricating himself as quickly as possible, he -made his way to the elevator. Quick steps sounded behind him, and, -turning, he looked into the smiling face of his boxing instructor, Spike -Ryan. - -“Hello, Kid, how they comin’?” grinned Spike. - -“Come upstairs with me, Spike.” - -Once inside the room, Donald turned to his visitor. “If you start any of -this sympathy stuff I’ll hand you that famous ‘one-two’ punch you taught -me.” - -“Sympathy be damned,” chuckled Spike. “Dis is your lucky day. I come -here to congratulate you, to give you de glad hand.” - -“Why all the joy? Most of my friends seem to think it is my funeral.” - -“Say, Donnie,” Spike said earnestly, “I bin watchin’ ya pretty close for -de past year, an’ ya sure bin ridin’ for a fall. Another year of de way -ya bin hittin’ her up an’ y’d have taken de count of ten an’ be sittin’ -wid de stew-bums. Ya bin fightin’ an exhibition wid life wid soft -twelve-ounce gloves, an’ de both of ya fightin’ under wraps an’ pullin’ -y’r punches. From now on de fight will be on de square an’ to a finish -wid bare knuckles. De guy in de other corner will hand ya some awful -jolts, an’ y’ll have to do some pretty fast work wid y’r dukes an’ pins -to keep away from de slumber swat. But, Donnie, ya got de goods in ya. -Nearly four years in an engineerin’ course in de college gives ya a -better start than most of us guys. I’m backin’ ya to win.” - -He seized Donald’s hand, and his battered face filled with tenderness as -he looked up at his friend. “Good luck, boy. Keep a stiff upper lip, an’ -don’t forget that old John Barleycorn’s a bum second.” At the door he -turned: “How ya fixed for kale, Donnie?” - -“You get out!” smiled Donald. - -Spike grinned as though pleased at the rebuff, and closed the door. - -For some time after Spike’s departure Donald sat lost in meditation. The -philosophy of the ex-pugilist, presented in the vernacular of the -prize-ring, had affected him deeply. “Ya bin fightin’ an exhibition wid -life, but from now on de fight is on de square,” Spike had said. True -enough, he thought, life had been soft and easy with him. But now it was -going to be “on de square.” His strong mouth set in a straight line, and -involuntarily he squared his shoulders. - -Donald left the hotel by the side door to avoid meeting several friends -who had gathered in the lobby. He had an hour to wait for the sailing of -the boat for Bangor. Unconsciously he walked towards the hill. An -overwhelming sense of loneliness swept over him as he stood before his -home, looming huge and white in the bright starlight of the winter -night. - -At the first sound of his master’s step on the pavement a big collie dog -rushed forth and flung itself bodily on the young man, whimpering in -sheer joy. Standing on hindlegs with paws on his chest, he tried to lick -Donald’s face. The noise was apparently heard within the house, for a -shade was raised and Donald’s mother peered out into the night. -Silencing the dog’s joyous whines as best he could, Donald crouched low -behind the hedge until the blind was lowered. - -“Good-bye, old pal,” Donald whispered, his arms about the collie’s -shaggy neck. The dog turned slowly and unwillingly toward the house. - -In the meantime, within the house, John McLean and his wife were -discussing the possible result of the father’s seeming severity. - -“Donald is a great trial to us now, John,” said the mother, “but we must -not forget the happiness he has brought us in the past.” She gazed long -and lovingly at a photograph of her son as a child; then, with head -bowed, her lips moved in silent prayer. - -Upon his arrival at the wharf Donald found his baggage, destroyed the -pass he had been in the habit of using, as his father was owner of the -steamboat line, and bought a ticket to Bangor. - -Reaching Bangor, he chose less expensive quarters than was his custom, -locating at the Penobscot, on Exchange Street. In no mood for sleep, he -decided to take a stroll. Outside an all-night restaurant was a long -string of cars, and from within came the sound of happy laughter. - -A feeling of loneliness, coupled with a slight hunger induced him to -enter. A big man sitting at the counter, attacking vigorously a T-bone -steak, was the centre of interest, as evidenced by the cluster of -taxi-drivers and other night-lunchers about him. He wore a wide-brimmed -hat, high leather boots, corduroy trousers, a blue flannel shirt, and a -red-mackinaw coat hung on the wall behind him. Blond, sun-washed hair -stood up from his head aggressively, and his steely blue eyes were set -in a face tanned a brick red. - -“Yes, sir,” spoke the blond giant between mouthfuls, “she’s a he-man’s -country, she is. None of your bum chow that I used to git here in these -Eastern loggin’ camps, sow-belly and beans three times a day, and -workin’ for forty dollars a month from daylight until dark. No, siree! -Me for the Coast with its four bucks a day. And talk about grub! Say, -there ain’t any hotel that puts up better scoffins than we git in the -loggin’ camps in good old B.C.” - -He looked around at his audience and, convinced that they were -interested, he continued: “Yes, sir! British Columbia for mine. Say! -What’d you think of three fir logs that makes a carload? Of cedars ten -feet through? Of alders that you can’t git your arms round? Some -different than them toothpicks you got out there,” jerking his thumb -contemptuously toward the Penobscot River. “And minerals,” he went on, -“the mountains are filled with ’em—miles and miles that ain’t never bin -prospected. Prospectors comin’ in every day with new strikes. And talk -about fish! I seen the fish so thick they choked the rivers; you could -darn near walk on their backs. That’s the country, fellers. That’s the -place for men with git-up-and-git.” He finished his repast with a gulp -of coffee, fished a sack of tobacco and brown paper from his pocket, and -rolled a cigarette. “A brand new country,” he ran on, his eyes shining -with enthusiasm, “that ain’t half explored yet, and richer’n a pail of -cream. How much do I owe you, boy?” he asked as he drew out a wad of -bank-notes, peeled a bill from the outside of the fat roll and threw it -carelessly on the counter. - -“Keep the change,” he said with a lordly air, then swaggered through the -door. Several of the taxi-drivers followed, loudly importuning him to -ride. - -Donald finished his lunch and sat for a time smoking. - -“That guy was a nut to flash his poke in front of that gang,” observed -the waiter. “Guess he’s big enough to take care of himself,” he added. - -As Donald stepped out of the restaurant he saw the big man across the -street with four of his former audience. From the shadow of a doorway he -saw the party enter a ramshackle building, after hearing one of them -promise to get the Westerner a drink in spite of prohibition. Donald -decided to walk by the place, and was startled by the sound of crashing -glass and indications of a struggle. - -“You will, will you?” he heard the unmistakable voice of the big -Westerner. - -With a bound Donald was at the door. He found the Westerner badly -battered, but holding three men at bay. The fourth lay in a crumpled -heap in the corner. - -Only one of the men noticed Donald’s entrance. He was a big, burly -brute, with the swarthy features of the Southern European, and he came -straight for the intruder, crouching low. Donald’s left hand caught him -on the eye, and as his head flew back Donald crossed viciously with his -right. The blow landed with an impact that sounded like a cleaver -sinking into a meat block, and the man dropped as though shot. - -A rat-faced man, standing near a side door with a bottle in his hand, -shouted a warning as Donald sprang to the Westerner’s assistance. Both -men turned their heads. The ham-like fist of the big blond giant struck -the larger of the two men such a terrific blow on the side of the head -that the recipient whirled completely around and sank dazedly to the -floor. - -“Duck!” yelled Donald, as he saw the little man’s arm go back. The -Westerner dropped, and not a second too soon. The bottle whizzed over -his head, bringing a shower of plaster from the wall where it struck. -With a curse the big man turned, but the bottle-thrower had disappeared -through the side door. The remaining thug, a tall, cadaverous looking -youth, took one wild look around, then bolted through the front door. - -The Westerner, gasping and rather pale, seized Donald’s hand in his huge -paw. “Pardner, you saved me from a hell of a lickin’! ’Bout two minutes -more and. . . .” - -“Grab your coat and hat and we’ll get out of here before the police -come,” interrupted Donald. - -They went through the alley to Hammond Street, then down Exchange -Street. - -“Better come up to my room and have those cuts attended to,” suggested -Donald. - -The Westerner touched gingerly the rapidly swelling lump over his ear. -“You know,” he observed, “those fellers never intended to start a -rough-house. The little dip was pretty slick, but I caught him with his -hand in my pocket, and when they saw that they had a fight on their -hands, they tried to lay me out with a billy. Should have seen the funny -look on that little rat’s face when he lammed me with that loaded stick -and I didn’t go down. Guess this old bean of mine must run pretty heavy -to bone,” he finished with a chuckle. He looked at Donald curiously. -“You sure handed it to that big dago quick. How did you horn in on the -row anyway?” - -Donald told of being in the lunch-room when he had displayed his money, -and of the waiter’s subsequent remarks. - -“Huh!” snorted the big man disgustedly, “guess I need a guardeen.” - -With the assistance of the obliging night-clerk, who furnished -antiseptic and court-plaster, they patched the hurts of the much-bruised -Westerner. - -When the clerk left the room the big man turned to Donald. “My name’s -Jack Gillis. What’s yours?” - -“Donald McLean.” - -“Damn good name,” he averred, looking Donald over critically. - -“I bin visitin’ my old home in Nova Scotia,” he ran on. “Come down here -to visit my sister. I’m gittin’ homesick for the Pacific Slope, and I’m -goin’ to hit for B.C. to-morrow mornin’.” - -“I’m on my way to Vancouver,” said Donald. - -The effect of this statement on Gillis was electric. “Do you belong in -B.C.?” he questioned excitedly. - -Donald told him how his glowing description of that land of promise had -induced him to go West, and that this would be his first visit to the -Coast. - -“Well,” observed Gillis, “if I’ve been the means of addin’ a man like -you to the population of B.C., then Jack Gillis has done some good.” - -“That’s a real compliment,” smiled Donald. - -“I’m goin’ on the mornin’ train,” remarked Gillis. “I’d like to have you -travel with me.” - -Donald nodded. - -Gillis rose with an embarrassed air. “Here I am talkin’ ’bout you and I -travellin’ together. I guess you’re one of them tourist fellers, and I -don’t suppose you want to go along with a roughneck like me.” - -Donald liked this big, bluff Westerner, with his honest face and simple -manner. He reached in his pocket and took out the money the sheriff had -given him. - -“You see that? Well, before this money is gone I’ll have to find a job. -And it’s borrowed money, too.” - -Gillis studied him carefully. “Well, you got my goat in a way, but there -is one thing I do know, and that is that you ain’t no slicker. I’m ’bout -twice your age, and I knows a good face when I sees it. I’ll meet you -to-morrow mornin’ at the station. I’m goin’ to start callin’ you Donald -right now. And what’s more, Jack Gillis is your friend from now until -hell freezes over. Good-night, Donald.” - - - - - CHAPTER II - - -Two days later Donald and the Westerner boarded a C.P.R. train in -Montreal for the West. They were no sooner comfortably seated in their -section of a tourist sleeper than they began rushing westward through -the winter evening. - -The days that followed were full of interest to Donald. The train roared -West, running on time like a clock. They tore through towns and farming -settlements and plunged into forests and hills in the northern part of -Ontario. The hills dwindled when they reached Manitoba, and in Alberta -Donald felt as if he were sailing over a vast sea of land. - -“We’ll see them old Rocky Mount’ns pretty soon,” said Gillis happily. -“You’ll like B.C., Donald. And after you bin there awhile all hell won’t -pry you loose. I know, ’cause I broke away from her twice, but I always -drift back. I ain’t got the eddication to tell you the funny feelin’ I -have when I’m comin’ back to her. When I see them big mount’ns loomin’ -up I feel sort of scrumptious inside, like I wanted to smile at -everybody, and I have a hard time to keep from lettin’ out a yell.” - -“Your power of expression needs no apology,” laughed Donald. - -“Forgot to tell you that I ain’t goin’ right through to the Coast. The -Company I work for has a mill at Revelstoke that needs fixin’ up. The -job’ll probably last ’till spring. You better stay off with me, ’cause -you’ll find things on the Coast pretty quiet this winter.” - -Gillis had played the part of host from the start, and Donald knew that -if he accepted the invitation to stop off at the interior town, Gillis -would insist on treating him as his guest. He felt that his new friend -could not afford to practise this lavish generosity. - -Donald shook his head regretfully. “I think I’ll go through to -Vancouver.” - -Gillis arose with visible reluctance as the train drew into Revelstoke. -“Well, I got to leave you, pardner.” - -Donald had developed a sincere friendship for the man. There was a great -deal of tenderness beneath the rough exterior of this Western logger. - -“I’m pretty lucky in finding a friend like you,” Donald said feelingly -as they shook hands. - -“That’s all right, my boy,” Gillis replied awkwardly. “I like you, and -I’ll sure look you up when I hit the Coast. So-long.” - -The sun was shining brightly as the train rushed along the edge of -Burrard Inlet toward Vancouver. The lawns were a bright green, and the -breeze blowing in the car-window was soft and balmy. Across the Inlet, -that sparkled in the sunlight, were huge mountain-peaks, their tops -covered with snow. The homecoming passengers were smiling happily, while -a look of eager interest shone on the faces of those who were strangers -to the Coast. - -Donald paused for a moment on the corner of Granville Street while the -cosmopolitan crowd flowed past him. Stolid-faced Klootchmen, dressed in -flamboyant colours, with baskets of clams on their backs, rubbed -shoulders with the haughty, turbanned Hindu. The little brown-faced Jap -darted here and there amongst the crowd. A Chinaman came swiftly around -the corner of an alley, moving with a peculiar trot, a pole across his -shoulders, from each end of which dangled a basket filled with fish and -vegetables. Another Chinaman, with a face of true Oriental -impassiveness, riding a bicycle down the street, a clay pipe jutting -from his mouth, was extremely incongruous. The wide, well-paved streets -and the city’s general air of modernity were impressive. In common with -many other Easterners, Donald had pictured Vancouver as a rough Western -town. - -Donald engaged an inexpensive room and at once began a search for -employment. Many of the mining and logging camps were closed for the -winter, and work was scarce. He applied to all the engineering firms in -the city, but their answers were invariably the same: “Nothing doing -until spring.” - -Days passed, and as late winter merged into spring there was a stir -throughout the city. Men who had spent the winter in idleness were -“going out” again. Loggers in their characteristic blanket shirts -hanging loose outside their trousers, could be seen on all sides saying -good-bye to their friends. - -One morning Donald counted his rapidly dwindling cash and found that he -would have barely enough to tide him over the week-end. - -With all his assets in the way of clothes and jewelry in a pawnshop, he -could not stave off the inevitable, and there came a day when he had not -even the price of a meal. Too proud to ask for a loan, he went without -breakfast and lunch. - -At the logger’s employment agency he was told the same old story: “Only -men of experience wanted. But,” the agent added hopefully, “men are -going to be scarce this summer, and they will be taking on everything -before long.” Donald made the rounds of the engineering firms where he -had applied for a position, but without success. Force of habit led him -back to the employment agency, where he sank disconsolately to a bench. - -A diminutive man with blond hair, bright blue eyes under shaggy brows, -and his head set at a cocky angle, entered briskly and approached the -wicket. “S’y, do you know where I can find an ’eavyweight that can box a -bit?” he said to the agent. - -“How about those two I sent you yesterday, Andy?” - -The one addressed as Andy made a gesture of disgust. “Those two -blighters were as ’eavy as cows. They didn’t know their right ’and from -their left. I don’t want any ’uman punchin’ bags, I want a man that ’as -a little speed. Blime me, if I was in Austrylia I could get a ’arf a -dozen in ’arf a minute.” - -“I’m your man,” said Donald stepping forward. - -The small man turned. The keen eyes under the bushy, light-coloured -eyebrows studied Donald carefully. “Can you box?” - -“I can.” - -“Good! Come with me.” - -Donald followed the sturdy little Australian. For a few blocks they -walked in silence. - -“’Ad your dinner?” queried the Australian. - -“No.” - -“We’ll ’ave a bite in ’ere.” - -They turned into “Old Joe’s” restaurant. - -“Sounds good to me,” observed Donald with a pleased smile. - -“Been missin’ a few meals, ’ave you? Order what you want,” said the -Australian, as they sat down to a table. - -“I’ll warn you that I’m hungry,” cautioned Donald. - -“’Op to it, me lad; about all we get in this blinkin’ world is what we -eat. What’s your name?” - -“Donald McLean.” - -“Mine’s Andy Pettray.” - -Then Andy delivered himself of the following information: “I’m the -manager of Bill Hagin, the Austrylian ’eavyweight. We are to fight -Slugger Garrieau, the Canadian champion, in about two weeks. The Slugger -is well named, as ’e is an ’eavy ’itter and it tykes a good boxer to -beat ’im. I want an ’eavy man that can speed Bill up a bit, and I’ve -’unted this town over, but I can’t find one. Now, if you can deliver the -goods, you will be worth three dollars a day and your eats. What do you -s’y?” - -“I say ‘yes,’” was the decided answer. - -Andy dug into his pocket. “’Ere’s three dollars to bind the bargain.” - -“Better wait until I earn it,” suggested Donald. - -“That’s all right, me lad; you’ll be needin’ it to eat on. I ain’t -worryin’. - -“Come to the gymnasium at the corner of Robson and Granville at two -o’clock to-morrow,” advised Andy as they stepped outside. - -“I’ll be there, and I want to thank you for your kindness.” - -“Forget it,” smiled Andy. “I’ve been flat many a time myself.” - -“Half-an-hour ago I was broke and hungry,” mused Donald, “and now I am -well fed and have three dollars in my pocket. Great old world this.” He -chuckled happily as he swung down sun-splashed Cordova Street with a -buoyant stride. - -The next day, dressed in light clothing and a pair of running-shoes, -Donald went around Stanley Park. Wishing to condition himself, he ran -the greater part of the way. - -Spring comes early in Vancouver as compared with the East. In January -the buds are bursting in Stanley Park. The balmy sea air, scented with -earthy odours from the deep woods, seemed to Donald to possess magic -properties. The blood sang in his veins. Overhead, big white seagulls -screamed and soared; squirrels retreated in chattering fright as he -raced down the road, and over all was the sound of the booming surf. The -wind rushed past his ears, and he shouted aloud from sheer exuberance of -spirits and the joy of living. - -Donald covered the distance from English Bay to Granville Street at a -jogging trot. The air of the gymnasium seemed close after being in the -open. The big Australian fighter was in the ring with one of his -sparring partners. The slap of gloves was like music to Donald’s ears. - -“Just in time,” welcomed Andy as he led him to the dressing-room, where -he quickly shifted to fighting togs and then walked over to the ring. - -A crowd of boxing-fans sat by the ringside watching the big fellow work -out. Donald’s entrance caused a stir. His lithe, muscular body was the -attraction of all eyes. - -“’Op in,” commanded Andy. - -While an attendant was putting on his gloves, Donald studied the big man -he was to help train. He would weigh at least two hundred pounds. His -shoulders were enormously broad and square, and the muscles of his arms -stood out in knobs and bunches. His face was a pasty colour, as though -his training had been done inside. His jaw was square and strong, his -eyes a mild blue, and his nose looked as though it had stopped many a -solid punch. “Strong but slow,” Donald decided. - -When Andy introduced him Hagin merely grunted. To the fighter Donald was -simply one more punching-bag. - -Donald turned to Andy. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. - -“Oh, knock the blighter out of the ring,” rejoined Andy, with just a -touch of sarcasm. - -“Do you mean that?” queried Donald quickly. - -Andy nodded. - -Hagin came to the centre of the ring, assuming an awkward crouch, his -arms wound about his face. Donald circled him warily. The big man -feinted with his left. Donald danced within range, and the Australian -let loose a terrific right swing that would have felled an ox. Donald -side-stepped, jabbed his left twice to his opponent’s face, and his -right missed Hagin’s jaw by the fraction of an inch. A surprised look -came over the big man’s face. A murmur of applause came from the -audience. - -“Strike me pink! What a left ’and!” ejaculated Andy. Hagin scowled and -tried to bring the fighting to close quarters, but was easily avoided by -his lighter opponent. - -Donald now took the aggressive. His left found weak spots in the big -man’s defence, and repeatedly he sent in stinging jabs that drove his -adversary’s head back with a snap. Try as he might, Hagin could not get -away from that whizzing left. It is a bitter pill to be bested by one’s -sparring partner. So far the Australian had been given a boxing lesson. -He forced Donald into a corner and made for him savagely. Donald ducked -under the flail-like swings, and shot a left upper-cut to Hagin’s jaw. -The latter staggered weakly to the ropes. Donald was after him like a -flash. Just then he saw Andy gesticulating wildly and shaking his head. -Hagin lunged forward and Donald fell into a clinch. The gong rang. - -“What’s the trouble, Andy?” asked Donald as he reached his corner. - -“Strike me lucky!” whispered Andy hoarsely, “you’re punchin’ me -meal-ticket. You’re makin’ a blinkin’ boob out of me ’eavyweight.” - -“You told me to knock him out of the ring,” reminded Donald. - -“Sure I did. But ’ow the ’ell did I know that you were a blinkin’ -cyclone? Strike me blind, a left ’and like that I ’aven’t seen since I -’andled Young Griffo.” - -“What shall I do the next round?” - -“Tyke a punch and go down—’urt your ’and—anything to quit. But for -’eaven’s sake don’t mess up me ’eavyweight any more! If the public ever -’ears of this our big fight is all off!” - -In the next round Donald dropped to the floor as they broke from a -clinch in the centre of the ring. He rose to one knee, holding his hand -and making a wry face. - -“Too bad,” sympathized Andy as he ordered him to the dressing-room. - -As Donald stepped from the ring he was intercepted by a curly-haired -youth whose brown eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “By golly, I want to -know you. My name’s Douglas Rennie. My, but that was a wonderfully fast -exhibition you gave us!” he ejaculated, gazing at Donald with -undisguised admiration. - -Donald flushed. “I appeared fast,” he explained modestly, “as I was -against a very slow opponent. I know nothing of Garrieau, but he won’t -have to be very clever to beat the Australian.” - -“Garrieau is fast and carries a knockout in either hand.” - -“I’m sorry for Andy’s man if that is the case, as any king of a left -will beat Hagin. Come to the dressing-room,” invited Donald. - -A moment later Andy entered and sank dejectedly to a locker seat. - -“You look rather blue, Andy,” observed Donald. - -“I am. All ’ell’s a poppin’,” admitted Andy. - -“What’s wrong?” - -“I’ve lost me ’eavyweight. ’E’s quit.” - -“Why?” - -“Said I framed on ’im by sending you in this afternoon. Said I ’urt ’is -pride.” - -“Pride!” echoed Douglas sarcastically. “You’ve been treating him too -well. I never thought much of him as a fighter. You’re too good a -trainer to be wasting your time on third-raters.” - -“Maybe you are right,” conceded Andy, “but look what a blinkin’ mess I’m -in now! ’Ere I am in the ’ole three hundred bones for training expenses, -and I’ve put up a forfeit with the promoters for appearance. I’ll lose -the ’ole lot.” He threw out his arms with an air of resignation and sank -back in his seat. - -Little Andy presented a pitiful figure as he sat hunched in the -corner—his jaunty manner gone; his blond head, usually held at a saucy -angle, sunk on his chest. Gloom, deep, impenetrable gloom, enveloped -this bright spirit from the Antipodes. - -Donald knew now that for all Andy’s munificent manner of yesterday, the -three dollars to “eat on” and the sorely needed dinner he had bought had -come from a generous heart, but a depleted purse. Here was his -benefactor in trouble. How could he help him? He crossed the room, sat -down beside Andy, and placed his hand on the little man’s arm. - -“Andy, take me on. I’ll fight Garrieau for you.” - -Andy came to his feet with a jump and seized Donald by the shoulders. -“If you’ll do that, me lad, I’ll be your pal for life. Strike me pink, -did you ’ear that? I’ve got a real fighter at last! ’Ooray!” The little -fellow was in ecstasies. “We’ll clean Garrieau up,” he went on -excitedly, “and then I’ll tyke you to the Stytes, and then to Austrylia, -and. . . .” - -“Hold on,” interrupted Donald laughingly, “looks like you intend making -a professional pug out of me. I’m doing this to help you, Andy, and,” -flushing in spite of himself, “I’m broke.” - -Andy glanced over Donald’s tall figure with a professional eye. “You -’ave a week to get fit, and ’as you ’aven’t ’ardly any weight to tyke -off, you should be top ’ole in that time.” - -“May I work out with you?” asked Douglas eagerly. - -“Glad to have you,” replied Donald. - -A few minutes later the young men stepped to the street. Douglas seemed -loth to go. - -“Will you come to my home for dinner?” he invited. - -Donald hesitated. It seemed ages since he had entered a private house. -He glanced down at his only suit, which was rather seedy, then looked -up, to find the usually roguish eyes of his companion fixed upon him -seriously. - -“Thanks, old man. I hope I may have the pleasure at some time, but I -can’t do it now.” - -“You said you were broke,” began Douglas, hesitatingly, “can—I——” - -“No, no, I’ll see you to-morrow,” interrupted Donald, turning abruptly -and walking swiftly down Granville Street. - -Douglas stood watching him until he disappeared. “A mighty good sport,” -he said softly. - -Fresh from his exercises and shower, his cheeks red, his dark eyes -shining with the clear glow of health, his step springy and free, Donald -was a picture of rugged health and strength. But for all this apparent -outward brightness, inwardly he felt rebellious. Douglas’s invitation -had brought a great longing for the comforts of his past life. Why -should he assume the rôle of a pugilist to eke out an existence? Why -wear shabby clothes and even know the pangs of hunger? Was it necessary? -He had but to wire his father that he was destitute and plenty of money -would be forthcoming. - -A big steak at “Old Joe’s” furnished him a hearty meal. As he selected -the money from his meagre supply of cash to pay his check, Old Joe bent -his grizzled head forward. “Are ye gittin’ short, son?” he asked. “Don’t -go hungry; come in any time.” - -“Thanks, Joe.” - -Donald was in a dark mood. He heard the sound of happy laughter coming -from a saloon on the corner. There behind those swinging doors was -momentary recess from worldly cares. He stood in the door of the -restaurant and looked across the Inlet at the twin peaks, known as the -“Lions,” which guard the entrance to Vancouver’s harbour. The sun was -setting in a mass of fleecy clouds; the clouds became a luminous gauze, -and a golden splendour spread over the water. The mountains were -suffused in violet, while the snow-fields took on a faint stain of rose. -Donald’s face glowed as he watched. - -“Some country!” he breathed. He turned to catch a friendly smile from -Old Joe as he worked over his range. “And some people!” he added -fervently. - -Once more he turned to the mountains. The glow had vanished and the -Lions stood in bold relief against the clear sky. The massive -snow-capped peaks seemed to impart a new strength to his being. “I’ll -not quit. I’m going to make good,” he said grimly. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - -While on his daily run around Stanley Park the next afternoon Donald was -attracted by a horse and rider standing on Prospect Point. The rider was -interested in a huge white liner ploughing her way through the Narrows, -bucking a head tide. The horse, a noble animal, with full mane and tail, -was restive, rocking and prancing in his eagerness to be off. - -When Donald lifted his eyes to the rider he saw a beautiful, haughty -face with skin of a milky whiteness, a heavy mass of dark brown hair, -neatly coiffed under a trim riding hat, and a pair of wonderful brown -eyes that suddenly grew cold. - -A shower of dirt and pebbles stung Donald’s face as the horse was swung -about as though on a pivot and with its rider was off like the wind. - -“A thoroughbred,” he exclaimed, as he watched the rider until she turned -a corner in the drive. “Two of them! And she thinks I am a low-down -masher,” he added ruefully. - -That afternoon he went through fifteen rounds of boxing, finishing -strong and fresh to tackle pulleys and punching-bag. - -Andy was joyful. “It will never go twenty rounds, me lad. That straight -left of yours alone would stop ’im in ’arf that time.” - -“This is my last day of road-work,” remarked Donald to his friend on -Friday afternoon, as he slipped on his running-shoes. - -As he and Douglas neared Prospect Point Donald’s thoughts turned to the -girl of yesterday. “She was haughty as a princess.” Unwittingly he had -spoken his musings aloud. - -“What’s that?” queried his companion. - -“I was talking to myself,” laughed Donald. - -“Bad sign! You are either in love or old age has overtaken you. Too -bad!” Douglas wagged his head sadly. - -“I may as well tell you,” confided Donald; “I saw a Greek goddess -mounted on an Arabian charger here yesterday.” - -Douglas threw out his hands tragically. “Donald, my poor friend! I am -afraid that I hit you too hard in that last round,” he said in a voice -of mock compassion. - -Donald stopped short. “Look!” he cried, pointing excitedly, “there she -is!” - -The girl sat gracefully erect on the big horse, gazing down at the -rushing tide. - -“I’ll be jiggered!” exclaimed Douglas. - -“Don’t blame you, but isn’t she a peach?” said Donald admiringly. - -Douglas burst out laughing. “Do you know who that is?” he asked with a -peculiar inflection. - -“I told you—a Greek goddess, mount——” - -“That’s my sister Janet,” interrupted Douglas. - -Donald’s mouth opened. He stared at his friend. “Your _what_?” he -exploded. - -“Oh, I forgot! Poor fellow!” said Douglas, solicitously, as his face -assumed a mournful expression. “I’ll certainly have to pull my punches -hereafter.” He leaned toward Donald and placed his lips close to his -ear. “S-i-s-t-e-r,” he spelled slowly. “Does the old bean grasp it?” - -“Cut the comedy,” growled Donald as he jerked Douglas to the side of the -road out of sight of the equestrienne. “Good heavens! Your sister!” he -groaned, “and she thinks I am a masher.” - -“Why should she think that of you?” - -Donald told him of yesterday’s occurrence. - -“This is great!” chuckled Douglas. “Come and meet my sister, Donald. -I’ll tell her that you can’t help flirting, and that will fix things up -all right. I’ll call her.” He grinned facetiously. - -“Don’t you dare! You——” Donald warned. - -Douglas avoided Donald’s wild clutch, ran to the centre of the road and -waved his arm. - -“Oh, Janet!” he shouted. - -Donald shook an angry fist at his tormentor and sprang to the shelter of -the trees. There was a thud of hoofs, a spattering of gravel, and the -sound of creaking leather. - -“What in the world are you doing here in that dress, Doug?” asked Janet. - -“Janet,” said her brother in a low, mysterious voice, “I’ve got the -fellow that tried to flirt with you yesterday; he’s in there.” He -pointed to the bush. “The poor fellow is a confirmed flirt; has it in -its worst form. I beg of you, Sister, be lenient, be merciful. He thinks -you are a Greek goddess.” He tapped his forehead significantly. - -Donald cursed the irrepressible youth’s sense of humour. If he could -have reached the humorist at that moment he would have pitched him into -the Inlet without compunction. - -Janet eyed her brother with disapproval. “What are you talking about, -Doug? Have you taken leave of your senses entirely?” - -“I will bring forth the erring knight for you to censure,” rejoined her -brother, bowing low in exaggerated deference. “Ho!” he shouted, “leave -thy woodsy bower, Sir Don, the goddess awaits thee.” - -Seething inwardly, Donald tried to appear dignified as he stepped to the -road, but the attempt was a dismal failure. How could one approach -anything like dignity when dressed in a pair of running trunks, a torn -and frayed jersey, socks turned down over a pair of dirty tennis shoes, -and without hat or coat? All this added to the fact that he faced a -battery of two big brown eyes, possessed by a lovely girl immaculately -dressed, who thought him a masher. The greatest actor in the world would -fail to register dignity under such conditions. He had a confused -remembrance of a jumble of words that went for a formal introduction. He -felt his face hot, and knew he was blushing furiously, which did not add -to his composure. - -The girl looked down curiously, but not without interest, at the -embarrassed young man. - -Donald finally mustered courage to glance up at the face above him. The -deep brown eyes regarding him held just a trace of humour. The full red -lips were parted to show a flash of white, even teeth. - -“It is a pleasure to meet you even under such inauspicious -circumstances,” stammered Donald. He turned to glare at the grinning -cause of his discomfiture. “I would suggest, Miss Rennie, that you have -a doctor waiting at your home, as I intend to commit mayhem on the -person of your brother as soon as you have gone.” - -Janet laughed. “I will go now to give you the chance.” With a playful -flick of her whip toward Douglas, she was off like an arrow. - -Donald turned to his friend. “I hope that you are satisfied now that you -have made an ass out of me.” - -“Quite happy, old dear. I didn’t find it a hard job.” - -Donald laughed. “I’ll race you to the gym.” - -As the bout was to take place on Monday, this was to be the last day of -training. The fans who had flocked to see Donald in his work-outs -admitted that he had wonderful speed, but would be unable to stay the -twenty rounds with the formidable Garrieau. The verdict of the knowing -ones was that it would take more than a snappy left hand to lift the -laurels from the champion who possessed the virtue of the terrible -punch. - -To the boxer training is a trying ordeal. The daily grind of road-work, -bag-punching, rope-skipping and pulley work becomes monotonous. The -nerves become frayed, and if the weight has to be materially reduced the -boxer develops a bad temper and is anything but a cheerful companion. - -As Donald prepared for bed that night he thought with relief that the -morrow would be a day of rest. “I’ll be glad when it’s over,” he mused. -His meditations were interrupted by a rapping on the door. In answer to -his invitation to come in, the door opened and a small man of -unprepossessing appearance entered. - -The visitor was indeed a most repulsive man, of uncertain age, and with -skin of a sickly yellow. One eye was sightless, which he ascribed to an -accident during a football game. Those familiar with his shady past -averred that it was caused by the vigorous application of an adversary’s -thumb during a bar-room brawl. - -“I’m Garrieau’s manager,” he said importantly. - -“What do you want?” demanded Donald shortly. - -“Now, see here, Kid. We’ve got a dead cinch to cop de change. It’s dis -way. Youse is a amachoor widout a chance in de woild to beat de Slugger. -Get me? Well, dere ain’t a bit of sense of de Slugger beatin’ you up for -nuttin’, so we frames de bout. De heavy bettin’ will be on de Slugger, -so we fixes it for de Slugger to take de big flop. Get me? We let’s it -go ’till about de tent’ round, so’s to give de fans a run for dere -money. We gets all de money dat we can beg, borrow and steal and puts it -on you to win. We puts up a slam-bang fight. You can take de drop a -couple of times, and den down goes de Slugger. De fans will just eat it -up. De tent’ round will find you stannin’ toe to toe, den de last minute -you sends home de fake sleep-punch. De boobs will t’ink it’s on de -square. Den in a mont’ we gets a return fight, and we pulls off de -‘grudge stuff’ and we packs de house. Of course, we have to win den, and -all our money will be placed on de Slugger. Dat means dat we cop de -change twice. Get me?” His ugly lips parted in what he intended as an -ingratiating smile. “You come up to de club to-morrow and we rehearses -de whole t’ing. Get me?” - -Donald’s face turned pale with rage. “I ‘get you,’ you damned little -rat!” he rasped. Seizing the surprised Pursell by the collar, he jerked -him to his feet, dragged him to the door, and threw him out with such -force that he struck the wall with a thump and fell in a heap on the -floor. - -Pursell rose with a snarl that showed his yellow teeth. A look of -bestial hate shot from the one gleaming orb. “We’ll kill you Monday, -you——” The air was filled with the vilest objurgations. - -Closing the door, Donald walked to the windows and opened them wide, as -though to rid the room of the air his visitor had breathed. “I never -dreamed there was so much rottenness in the shape of a human being,” he -said disgustedly. - -At the same hour, at the other side of the city, Douglas was also -entertaining a visitor, but of a very different type. He had just -entered his room when he heard his sister’s voice. - -“May I come in a minute, Doug?” Janet came to the point quickly. “Who is -this Mr. McLean who was with you to-day?” - -“Oh, that was—er—Donald McLean,” he answered evasively. - -“You know what I mean. Who is he? What is he? Where does he come from?” - -“I’ll look him up in Bradstreet’s.” - -“Do be serious, Doug.” - -“Is it a serious matter, Sis?” - -“I think he is interesting,” she replied hesitatingly. - -“So do I. I liked him the first time I saw him,” said Douglas warmly. - -“Well, you haven’t answered my questions yet,” persisted Janet. - -For all his fluency of speech Douglas was for the moment nonplussed. -“Let’s see—er—what was the first question?” He was sparring for time. - -“Don’t quibble, Doug. Where did you meet him?” - -“I met him a long time ago, through an intimate friend by the name of -Pettray. McLean is his partner. Firm name McLean and Pettray.” - -“What is their business?” - -“Oh—er—glove business.” - -There was an interval of silence. “I’m not a bad little liar,” thought -Douglas. “I wonder if she’s finished.” He yawned strenuously and -stretched his arms. “My! I’m sleepy,” he said. - -Janet rose slowly and moved toward the door. “Are you going to ask him -out some time?” she inquired. - -“Sure thing!” - -At the door she turned. “Will you let me know when he is coming?” - -“Yes, dear.” - -“Good-night, Doug.” - -“Good-night, Sis.” - -Douglas stood for a while staring into nothingness. “I don’t blame her,” -he said aloud. “I don’t know anything about him, but I’ll bet he is a -real man.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - -The arena and the grand-stand were packed, the S.R.O. sign having been -hung out at two o’clock. The cosmopolitan crowd sat in solid ranks, tier -upon tier, from the select ringside seats to the topmost rail. Judges, -lawyers, doctors and bankers sat with labourers, miners, loggers, -bartenders, and bootblacks. Men of the underworld sat side by side with -men that make and administer our laws. There was a sprinkling of Japs, -Chinamen and negroes. The turbanned Hindu made bright splotches of -colour here and there in the vast sea of faces. Of class distinction -there was none; all welded as one in the love of the boxing game. - -The preliminaries were over, and the vast crowd had settled in their -seats. Suddenly there was a stir, a craning of necks. Down the aisle on -the west side of the arena came Donald, followed by Andy and the two -seconds, the latter carrying buckets, sponges, towels and bottles. -Donald wore a dark-coloured bathrobe thrown over his shoulders. There -was a murmur of applause that swelled to a tumult as he clambered -through the ropes. He seemed cool as Andy piloted him to his corner, but -as he sat down and stretched out his long legs, he appeared ill at ease. - -Although the crowd had given him a handsome welcome, prophecies were -shouted down from the top seats that he would not last very long with -the formidable champion. Donald was palpably nervous, as evidenced in -the quick turning of his head and the shuffling of his feet. He looked -slight and frail as he leaned forward in his chair, the black bathrobe -accentuating the paleness of his face. A feeling of friendlessness came -over him as he gazed at the huge, strange crowd who were loudly -predicting his defeat. - -A well-known judge, wearing glasses and a big black hat, turned to his -companion. “It’s a hanged shame, Tom, to match that slim boy with a -brute like Garrieau.” - -The one addressed was one of the City’s leading dentists and an ardent -boxing fan. “Don’t you believe it, Bill,” he returned. “Just wait until -you see this boy strip.” - -“Here he comes!” - -A roar of applause greeted the champion as he came down the east aisle -bowing right and left in answer to their plaudits. His dark, massive -body seemed fairly to shine as he leaped to the ring with easy grace and -stripped off his robe. He stood in his corner with hands on the ropes, -shuffling his feet in the resin, still smiling and glancing about the -arena. Evidently he loved the limelight. - -In appearance the champion very much resembled the ape. His bullet-like -head was close cropped. The small piggish eyes were deep set under -overhanging, beetling brows, and the nose was flat like a negro’s. His -lips were thick, with a repulsive twist that gave his face a sinister -look. His massive jaw was purposely left unshaved to rasp the tender -skin of his opponent’s shoulders in the clinches. His enormous -barrel-shaped chest was covered with a thick growth of hair. His -shoulders were broad and his disproportionately long arms, heavily -muscled, terminated in two thick ham-like hands. He gazed confidently -across at Donald’s corner. - -A pasteboard box containing the gloves was tossed to the centre of the -ring. There was a stir as the announcer pushed his way through the -ropes. Andy crossed the ring to examine the champion’s hands for tape -and to test thoroughly the new gloves for any trace of sewed in shot or -lotion that would cause the eyes to smart. One of Garrieau’s seconds was -making a similar examination in Donald’s corner. - -A big man in a wide-brimmed hat, with a mackinaw coat over his arm, came -walking down the steps of the arena. The look of astonishment on his -face gradually gave place to one of joy. He ran to the ringside. - -“Donald!” he shouted joyously, as he sprang through the ropes. With a -thrill of pleasure Donald held out his hand to Jack Gillis. The big -man’s face was beaming. “Just got in,” he said. “Bin lookin’ all over -town for you! I come to the fight and—holy mackerel!—here you are one -of the fighters!” - -Andy noted the glad look in Donald’s eyes and he spoke sharply to -Donald’s seconds, who were for ordering the boisterous visitor out of -the ring. The word “pyschology” was foreign to Andy, but he knew that -Donald’s mind had for a moment drifted away from the fight. Donald was -surprised to see Douglas greet Gillis warmly as the big man left the -ring. - -“I have two good friends in the audience, anyway,” whispered Donald to -himself. - -Andy leaned over him, talking in a low voice, giving him comfort and -advice. “E’ll try right along, Donnie, to get your goat by cursing and -using vile language, but don’t listen to ’im, and don’t lose your -temper. ’E fights with ’is chin tucked in the ’ollow of ’is left -shoulder and ’is neck muscles rigid. It’s mighty ’ard to land on ’is jaw -with a right. Now the first round,” Andy went on, “you just jab ’im -light with your left; don’t ’it ’ard, just a good snappy punch. ’E’ll -think you ’ave no sting in it, and the next round ’e’ll get careless and -let you ’it ’im so’s to get in a punch. Of course, if you see a good -opening, let fly with all you ’ave, but ’e won’t open up until ’e tries -you out a bit. Watch the dirty blighter in the clinches; ’e’ll foul you -if ’e gets a chance. Another thing: this is to be twenty rounds, so tyke -your time. Now is everything clear to you, Donnie?” - -“Yes, Andy.” - -Andy patted Donald’s bare shoulder affectionately. - -The contestants stood in their corners as they were introduced. The -referee beckoned them to the centre of the ring for instructions. As -Donald slipped the enveloping bathrobe from his shoulders and stepped -forward, a murmur of admiration swelled from the crowd. His lean loins -and broad shoulders showed to advantage in the bright light. The long, -flowing muscles rippled under his skin when he moved, like those of a -panther. Loud applause came from all over the arena. Garrieau, thinking -the ovation was for himself, turned and ducked his head with a motion -that was intended for a bow. - -A rough voice near the top shouted: “Aw! that wasn’t for you, you big -stiff!” - -The judge and the dentist turned and looked at each other. The eyes of -the latter seemed to say, “I told you so.” The judge smiled and nodded. - -A fat man, who could not have been more than thirty-five years of age, -yet with rolls of fat at his waist-line, a bulbous nose and florid face, -bit savagely on a big cigar. “By gad!” he ejaculated, “that man is -perfect.” There was a look of admiration and envy in his red-rimmed -eyes. Thus do men admire the strong, well-kept body of the athlete, even -though their own physical self has degenerated to mere paste. - -“Two to one that Garrieau wins inside of ten rounds!” shouted a voice. -Douglas covered the bet at once. - -“Now, men,” instructed the referee briskly, “this is to be for twenty -rounds. You are to fight clean breaks. You can hit with one arm free, -but you cannot hold with one and hit with the other. When I say ‘Break’ -I want you to break at once and step back. Do you understand fully? -Good! To your corners.” - -Donald glanced at his friends, who sat with their eyes upon him. He felt -Andy’s hand upon him gently stroking his arm, yet he could not suppress -the trembling in his limbs. - -“Everything’s all right, Donnie,” whispered Andy softly. - -The gong rang. - -Garrieau assumed the crouch Andy had predicted, his chin resting in the -hollow of his shoulder, his eyes seeming to retreat into his skull under -the overhanging brows. This was the champion’s famous “fighting face.” - -“Pretty boy, ain’t yer?” he scoffed. “I’m goin’ to knock dose pretty -teet’ down yer throat, you——” he cursed. - -Donald snapped a light left to the ugly face and danced out of range. -The champion’s thick lips parted in a fiendish grin. “My, mamma’s nice -boy has a terrible punch!” he derided. - -Donald continued his dazzling footwork, keeping the champion in pursuit -and contending himself with occasional left-hand jabs that kept his -opponent’s head rocking. He shot glances at intervals to his corner for -instructions from Andy, who nodded his head in approval of his tactics. - -The round finished in the challenger’s favour by a wide margin on -points. The champion had not landed a single effective blow during the -round. - -The action of the first round caused Donald to forget his nervousness. -Andy crowded between his knees and gently massaged his body, all the -while speaking words of commendation and counsel. - -“Now that you find that you can reach ’im easily with your left, watch -me for signals. If I see that ’e’s openin’ up, I’ll give you the sign to -shoot your left with all you ’ave. If he swings again with ’is left, try -for ’is bread basket. You understand me, Donnie?” - -“Easiest thing I’ve picked yet,” chuckled the champion as he came to his -corner. - -“He may be stalling,” cautioned his evil-faced manager. - -“Huh!” grunted the champion. “I can take all he has in dat left and -never feel it. I’m goin’ to open up on him de last part of de next -round.” - -The gong rang for the second round. - -Donald caught a glimpse of Pursell’s face as he crouched in the opposite -corner. Such a look of vicious hate shot from his one gleaming eye that -Donald shivered. - -The rough element began to boo Donald for his running tactics. Some fans -feel that they are cheated out of the price of admission unless they can -witness the spectacle of two boxers slugging toe to toe until one goes -down. Science counts for nothing with this small minority. - -“Whadda ya think this is, a marathon?” they shouted. - -“Powder-puff punch!” derided another. - -Garrieau suddenly tore in, letting loose a terrific right that would -have stopped the bout right then if it had landed. From a clinch Donald -looked to his corner. Andy went through the pantomime of shooting a -straight left. Donald nodded. - -“Powder-puff punch!” again shouted the disgruntled fan. - -“Did ya hear that?” hissed Garrieau, twisting his mouth into an apish -grin. “Yo can’t hit hard enough to break an egg. I’m goin’ to fix dose -teet’ for you now.” He leered brutally as he tore after Donald, -disdainful of the belittled left. - -Donald stopped abruptly in his flight and shot a lightning left across -to his pursuer’s jaw. The champion saw it coming, but too late to block -it. He threw his body into reverse, robbing the blow of a great deal of -its force; yet enough was left to send him reeling back to the ropes, -his head whirling and his knees wobbly. With a roar the spectators came -to their feet as one man. The gong saved Garrieau. - -The crowd gave Donald a deafening ovation as he walked to his corner. He -looked for his friends and saw Douglas and Gillis locked in an embrace -and dancing madly in the narrow aisle. - -“Pretty near got ’im that time, Donnie!” cried Andy gleefully. “If you -can get ’im to lift ’is jaw off ’is shoulder, send in your right.” -Andy’s hands were shaking with excitement, while Donald was cool and -collected. - -“Let me go after him, Andy,” he begged; “I can whip him at his own -game.” - -“No, no!” admonished Andy, “keep on as you are. Don’t try to swap -punches with ’im!” - -Garrieau’s seconds were working over him feverishly. Pursell leaned over -the heavily-breathing champion, his evil face sick with apprehension. - -“What’d I tell yer?” he exclaimed. “They’ve stuck a ringer in on us; dat -feller ain’t no amachoor! If he beats ya we’re both bums! Foul him dis -round, for de——” he finished with a savage oath. - -At the beginning of the third round Garrieau charged his elusive -adversary like a mad bull. Donald easily side-stepped him and he plunged -into the ropes. As he rebounded, Donald landed a left and danced safely -away without reprisal. - -“You can do pretty footwork,” snarled the champion with a look of Simian -ferocity, “but I’ll get you yet, you——” There followed a burst of wild -cursing. He tried to rush Donald to the ropes, feinted for the wind, and -let loose a powerful right for the jaw. Paying no attention to the -feint, Donald ducked the blow and, countering, shot his left to his -opponent’s mid-section. The champion grunted aloud, fell into a clinch, -and hung on grimly. The referee pried them apart. Again the crowd came -to their feet to shout in a frenzy of excitement. - -Garrieau fell into a clinch, then wrestled about until he placed his -opponent between himself and the referee. He loosed his right in a -terrific upper-cut that missed, but his left smashed with fearful force -to Donald’s groin—the most brutal foul that can be delivered. The -referee did not see the blow. - -Donald’s nerves quivered with agony. A wave of torment and the awful -nausea that follows such a blow swept through him. His face writhing -with anguish, his gloved hands clutching his groin, he crashed forward -on his face. His body twitched for a moment, then lay still. - -The crowd came to their feet and many moved toward the exits. Another -victim, they thought, to the champion’s terrible punch. A number at the -ringside, who had witnessed the foul blow, stood upon their seats and -screamed denunciations at the referee. - -The referee stood with one hand on Garrieau’s massive chest. The latter -was lustfully straining forward while the fatal seconds were tolled off. - -The roar of the crowd came to Donald’s ears like the dash of waves on a -distant shore. At the count of five his body stirred. At the count of -eight, his jaw sagging, his face distorted, he struggled to his knees. -He saw Andy’s agonised face as through a fog and heard his desperate cry -of appeal. - -“Up, Donnie! Up!” - -At the count of nine Donald’s benumbed muscles answered the call of his -brain. With tremendous effort he staggered to his feet and wound his -arms about his face. The crowd yelled themselves hoarse in tribute to -his courage. - -Garrieau was upon him with a growl like a wild beast. Donald stood in -the centre of the ring reeling drunkenly. Garrieau shot a terrific right -for Donald’s wind that struck his weakly protecting elbows. The impact -carried him to the ropes, and he fell forward to his knees. Again the -referee’s arm rose and fell as he counted the seconds. Again Donald -tottered to his feet to meet a fusilade of short-arm jolts that pierced -his guard and sent him staggering. - -The gong rang. With body swaying unsteadily and legs wavering, Donald -walked to his corner and sank down heavily. What a blessed relief to lie -and relax! His head felt leaden and there was a ringing in his ears. - -His seconds worked over him in furious haste. Andy knew all the tricks -of resuscitation: the upward sweep of hand on the midriff that brings -the big nerve centre to life; the quick raising of the chest that brings -air to the remote corners of the lungs. With a sudden choking in his -throat, the little Australian realized that this boy was very dear to -him. A prayer on his lips, his hands trembling, but sure and deft, he -strove to restore the shattered nerves. - -The colour came slowly to Donald’s cheeks and the haze cleared away as -the cold water was showered upon him. He felt his strength returning. A -long deep breath and he was himself again. Youth and his fine body had -saved him. He looked across the ring at Garrieau, whose vulture-like -manager was leaning over him with an exultant look on his face. This -brute had deliberately fouled him. A cold and terrible rage swept -through every fibre of Donald’s being. He had demeaned himself by -entering the prize-ring. This was bad enough; but to _lose_ the -battle!—_Never!_ He looked for his friends. Their faces, he saw, were -tense and full of misery. - -“Andy, I’m going after him,” he declared in a hard voice. - -Andy was about to remonstrate, but he caught a flash of the hard light -in Donald’s eyes, and the words died on his lips. He hesitated. Maybe he -should have let Donald take the aggressive from the start. - -“Are you strong enough, Donnie?” - -Donald’s eyes held a dull glow. “Yes!” he gritted. - -Andy patted his arm as the gong rang. “Give ’im ’ell, Donnie!” And then -added reverently: “May God give ’im strength.” - -Donald shot from his corner as though thrown from a catapult to meet -Garrieau before he was fairly out of his chair. The spectators held -their breath. Was this the man who a minute before had walked staggering -and beaten to his chair? When the referee pried the fighters apart after -a fierce mix-up in the champion’s corner, a puffed eye and a bloody face -showed that Garrieau had absorbed severe punishment. Donald was -everywhere, dancing in for a fierce rally and out again, always without -a return. - -The arena fairly rocked to the cheers of the crowd as Donald stood in -the centre of the ring and exchanged punches with the champion. Head to -head they stood while Donald’s arms worked with such lightning speed -that the champion’s blows were smothered. And, marvel of marvels, the -champion was giving ground. The pursued had become pursuer. The tide had -turned. With his arms wound about his face the champion retreated. As he -assayed a lead, Donald’s fist smote his face before he could again cover -up. Following relentlessly, Donald penetrated his opponent’s guard with -rights and lefts until the champion’s face was a smear of red. - -A bedlam of sound came from the audience as they stood on their seats -and roared their admiration for the challenger’s wonderful exhibition. -Andy, his face set, his eyes bulging clung to the corner of the ring. - -Garrieau drove heavily at his elusive foe and missed. The impetus swung -him to one side. For an instant his chin was without the protecting -shelter of his shoulder. With a bewilderingly swift move Donald stepped -forward, pivoted on his toes, and with the full weight of his powerful -young body behind it, he whipped his right to the champion’s unprotected -jaw. Plop! Garrieau fell upon his face and sprawled like a baboon on the -floor. Donald walked to his corner, thrust his gloved hands towards -Andy, who stood as though paralyzed, and said; “Take them off, Andy.” -His voice was audible throughout the arena. The referee rushed to -Donald’s side and raised his arm aloft in token of victory. - -With a roar the crowd came to its senses to realize that the fight was -over. Pandemonium broke loose. A struggling mass of humanity surged into -the ring. Every man wanted to shake hands with the new champion. -Garrieau, the possessor of the “punch” they had so much admired, was -forgotten. The king is dead—long live the king! Such is life, -especially in the boxing game! - - - - - CHAPTER V - - -With much difficulty Donald and his friends forced their way through the -cheering throng to the dressing-room. Weak and tired, Donald lay on a -cot, while his handlers gently massaged his sore body. Andy moved to the -cot and stood looking down on his protégé. - -Donald opened his eyes. “Hello, Andy, he smiled weakly. - -“Hello, Donnie,” said Andy huskily, as he patted Donald’s dark head. - -Donald’s hand stole out to meet the warm clasp of his friend. - -“Some little fight,” said Andy, summoning a smile. - -“Not bad,” agreed Donald. - -Gillis pulled his hat brim down over his eyes to hide his emotion. “I’ve -a good mind to go out and give that brute another lickin’,” he growled. - -One of the promoters thrust his head through the door. “Come and get -your dough!” he shouted. - -“Strike me lucky!” returned Andy, “those words ’ave a pleasant sound.” -He picked up a small handbag and left the room. In a few moments he -returned, his face beaming. He tapped the satchel. “Chuck full,” he said -happily. - -At the gymnasium they gathered in Andy’s room, and for the first time -Donald told them of the attempted “frame-up” proposed by Garrieau’s -manager. Douglas strode across the room and gripped Donald’s hand. Not a -word was uttered by anyone, but the silence was more eloquent than -speech. - -They were all in a happy mood after the prolonged strain of the day. -Andy was in particularly high spirits. “Gentlemen,” he began -grandiloquently, “I ’ave before me on the tyble ’ere a most wonderful -little ’andbag. All it ’ad in it this morning was a dirty collar and a -shirt stud. Now,” making a dramatic gesture, “it’s the bloomin’ ’orn of -plenty!” He turned the satchel upside down and a mass of bills, coins -and cheques fell upon the table. - -“’Ere, Gillis,” cried Andy, as he selected a bill, “will you go out and -get some champagne, and when you goes in the bar buy a drink for the -’ouse. Bring ginger ale for Donnie; ’is manager’ll drink ’is share of -the wine.” - -Andy sorted the money into piles and sat quietly counting for a few -minutes. “Fifteen thousand and a few odd dollars,” he announced. - -“What!” ejaculated Donald. He was astounded. He had given the size of -the purse little thought. “I had no idea it would be so much,” he said -in a surprised tone. - -“Oh, the boxin’ gyme is a great gyme,” said Andy. - -“Yes,” remarked Douglas, “but after seeing that bout to-day I’m going to -take up tiddly-winks instead; it’s not so rough.” - -When the big man returned with the wine Donald turned to Douglas. “It -seems that you and Gillis are old friends.” - -“Why, yes, Jack’s been one of Dad’s right-hand men for—how long, Jack?” - -“About ten years,” replied Gillis. - -“And I’m equally interested to know how you and Jack know each other so -well,” said Douglas curiously. - -“I met Donald on the train comin’ out,” answered Gillis quickly. - -“Come on, boys,” cried Andy, “we’ll drink to the new champ—to Donnie’s -health.” Andy held his glass aloft. “Boys, I can’t make much of a -speech, as I ’ave only ’ad one drink. Stand up while we drink to our -Donnie. I knows that ’e’s goin’ to leave me, and that ’e’s goin’ to give -up the boxin’ gyme. I knows that ’e isn’t in the ’abit of mixin’ with -the likes o’ me. I knows that I’m lucky to be blackin’ the boots o’ a -man like ’im. But when I knows that ’e went into this fight to ’elp a -poor little bloke like me out of an ’ole, I’m proud, boys, I’m proud! -I’ve seen many a fight, and I’ve seen many a gyme man. But strike me -blind if Donnie didn’t this day teach me something about sheer grit. -When ’e came stumblin’ to me at the end of that—that third -round—I—I——” He stopped. “You know what ’appened,” he continued in a -husky voice. “I ask nothin’ better’n to ’ave ’im for me pal. ’Ere’s to -the gymest man that ever stepped in shoe-leather! ’Ere’s to ’im!” Andy -turned away quickly to light a cigarette. His eyes were moist. The room -was silent. - -Donald was deeply moved by his little friend’s show of feeling. Douglas -broke the silence. “You got back to the Coast just in time, Jack.” - -“How’s that?” - -“Dad has started on the biggest job that he’s tackled yet. - -“What is it?” - -“Do you remember the big tract of timber that he bought in the Cheakamus -Valley?” - -“Yes, he bought on my advice,” answered Gillis. - -“Well, he’s going to run a railroad in and build sawmills, and saw the -logs right on the spot instead of shipping them to the Coast.” - -“Good!” said Gillis heartily. “There’s a wonderful stand of timber in -that valley.” - -“But here’s the best part of it,” Douglas went on eagerly; “Dad’s going -to send you in to cruise the timber around Summit Lake, and I’m to go -with you. It’s a wonderful country. I was up there last summer.” He -turned to Donald. “Will you go with us?” - -“I’ll be glad to,” assented Donald. - -“Good!” cried Douglas. “It will be fine camping with you and Jack.” - -Little Andy sat patiently listening to this lively conversation, in -which he had been completely ignored. He could contain himself no -longer. - -“I s’y,” he blurted, “am I such a blinkin’ dwarf that you’ve forgotten -that I’m in this ’ere crowd? Isn’t me ’ead above the tyble? Where the -’ell do I get off on this ’ere bloomin’ picnic, I asks you?” - -One look into the Australian’s seriously comic face with its heavy blond -eyebrows wagging up and down set Douglas into paroxysms of laughter. -“Andy,” he declared, “I’m going to take you along, even if we have to -mark you ‘excess baggage.’ Can you cook?” - -“Can I cook?” repeated Andy. “’E asks me can I cook! That’s me first -name; that’s me profession. I’ve cooked on sailing ships, steamboats, in -camps, in the Army, an’ I did thirty days in Sydney jail, and blime me -if they didn’t make me ’ead cook. I was so good they wanted me to sty.” - -“You’re hired, Andy,” said Douglas decidedly. “But isn’t it going to be -pretty tough to quit the boxing game for cooking?” - -“Seein’ as you ’ave asked me I’ll say that it’s a blinkin’ sight better -than quittin’ it for tiddledy-winks!” - -Douglas came to his feet. “I want you to meet Dad, Donald, and we’ll -find out when we are to start.” - -Andy patted his stomach contemplatively. “Well, with this ’ere champagne -under me belt, I think I’ll start in ’ere and ’ave a drink and a fight -in every bar from ’ere to Cordova Street. About meetin’ you, Donnie,” he -added scratching his head reflectively, “the way I feel right now I -think by to-morrow morning you’ll find me in the bridal-chamber of the -Vancouver Hotel.” Saying which with straightened shoulders, his head set -at a characteristic angle, he swaggered down the street and with a wave -of his hand disappeared within the swinging doors of the first saloon. -In his present mood Andy envied no millionaire. - -“You’ll like Dad,” said Douglas, as they ran up the steps of the big -office building. “He’s rather severe looking and pretty straight-laced, -but the face he wears in the office isn’t the face he wears at home.” He -finished with a laugh. - -Robert Rennie was the sole owner of the Rennie Construction and Logging -Company, one of the largest organizations of its kind on the Coast. He -now rose from his chair and came around the desk, all the while studying -Donald’s face, which bore unmistakable traces of the afternoon’s fight. - -“Dad, this is Donald McLean, whom I told you about last night. I don’t -want to take up much of your time; just wanted you to meet Donald and -find out when we can start on the trip to the mountains.” - -“Now that Gillis is here to go with you, you can go any time; the sooner -the better, as we expect to have the railroad to the summit in a few -weeks,” responded his father, his eyes still on Donald. - -“Thanks, Dad,” said Douglas. “We can be ready to-morrow and leave the -next day.” - -“Douglas, will you please go to Bowser’s office and get some papers he -promised to have ready to-day?” asked Robert Rennie. - -Donald moved toward the door with Douglas. - -“Sit down, Mr. McLean, and wait until Douglas comes back,” invited -Robert Rennie politely, as he pushed a chair toward Donald. He then -closed the door of the outer office, where a girl sat pounding a -typewriter. - -When the older man turned his face was set in a broad smile and he -crossed the room to seize the hand of his astonished visitor in a hearty -grip. “Man! man!” he exclaimed, as he pumped Donald’s hand vigorously, -“that was a great fight to-day! When you got Garrieau with your left in -the second round and that d—— gong rang, I—I—heavens, but I was -excited!” He was gazing at Donald with admiration glowing in his eyes. - -“You—you were there!” gasped Donald. - -Robert Rennie chuckled. “Top row—nigger heaven! When that brute fouled -you I think I could have shot him!” - -“Mr. Rennie, I’m not a professional fighter, I—I——” - -“Tut! tut!” interrupted the enthusiastic fan, “I can see that. By gad! -that last round was a whirlwind. That right you landed on his jaw—I got -so excited that I fell down between the seats and skinned my shins.” He -rubbed his leg ruefully. “I never saw such speed as you showed in that -last. . . .” - -Here footsteps sounded outside, Robert Rennie moved quickly to his -chair, adjusted his glasses and assumed a serious expression. “Not a -word to Doug,” he whispered. - -“Bowser says that he told you he’d have the papers to-morrow,” informed -Douglas. - -“Very well,” answered his father. - -Donald turned as he was leaving the room and saw Robert Rennie close one -eye in a wise wink. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - -At the breakfast table the next morning Douglas was talking happily of -their departure for Summit Lake. - -“You’ll have to hustle the work of timber cruising,” his father -admonished. “There won’t be any time for play, as we expect to have the -road finished in a few weeks.” - -“Don’t worry, Dad. This is my first real job, and I am going to make -good,” declared Douglas stoutly. - -“I hope so, Douglas. As you know, I want you to work your way up on your -own merits. I’m not going to show any favouritism. We are going to put -in a larger mill at Cheakamus, and one at Summit Lake, so there will be -good opportunities for advancement for you and McLean if you show the -right spirit. - -“Is Mr. McLean going with you?” interposed Janet in a casual tone. - -“Yes.” - -“How can he leave his business for so long?” - -“He’s not actively engaged in business just at present,” explained -Douglas glibly. - -“You might ask him out to dinner to-night. I am having a few friends in -for the evening.” - -“You bet I will.” - -Donald accepted Janet’s invitation with alacrity. Living within the four -bare walls of a room and eating in restaurants had long since palled on -his taste. - -“Formal or informal?” he asked. - -Douglas made a deprecatory gesture. “Formal, very formal. You don’t know -Janet or you wouldn’t ask that question. My sister is a stickler for -ceremony. How are you off for ‘soup and fish’?” - -“I have the necessaries,” smiled Donald. - -Donald spent more than the usual time in dressing. He stood before the -small mirror and surveyed himself with a critical eye. “Pretty soft for -you,” he apostrophized himself, “eating in ten-cent restaurants one day -and dining in a millionaire’s home the next, and on the invitation of -the most beautiful girl you have ever met.” - -Douglas called for him with his car and whisked him to the palatial -Rennie residence on Shaughnessy Heights. The imposing evidence of wealth -was written in bold headlines on the whole street of beautiful homes. - -Mrs. Rennie met them at the door and greeted Donald warmly. He could not -repress a start as he noted her likeness to Janet, and when she spoke -her voice held the same deep tone as her daughter’s. She led him to a -large room flanked by two enormous bays that looked out on the Avenue. -There was a spaciousness in all the rooms, a rare combination of beauty -and good taste in the furnishings, that were luxurious without being -ornate. Robert Rennie came forward and gave him a cheery welcome. Donald -heard Janet’s voice behind him and turned to gaze on a vision of -loveliness. - -Janet had dressed for the occasion with unusual care. A dark red evening -gown of a filmy material showed to advantage the delicate contour of her -form and the graceful curve of her snow-white shoulders and neck. Her -lovely hair was wound in shining coils and held with a comb that -sparkled with small but brilliant diamonds. Her long dark lashes -drooped, and she flushed slightly as she met Donald’s look of -undisguised admiration. - -Mrs. Rennie was an excellent hostess. Her cultured and charming -personality put Donald quite at ease. It seemed ages since he had worn a -dress-suit and been entertained in a home of luxury and refinement. -After the coarse fare of noisy restaurants which had been his, the -excellent food, the rich linen, the home-like atmosphere and the subdued -voices now gave him a pleasant thrill. - -The conversation during dinner was on various subjects. At times it -swung perilously near to matters pertaining to Donald’s personal -affairs. On such occasions Douglas adroitly shifted it to other -channels. - -Janet studied Donald covertly. His perfect poise, his air of refinement -and his evident lack of self-consciousness impressed her. “He is -cultured and well-bred,” she thought as she noted his well-shaped head, -his powerful shoulders and his clean-cut profile. - -Near the finish of dinner, while waiting for coffee to be served, there -came a lull in the conversation which was finally broken by Janet. “Doug -tells me that you are engaged in the glove business, Mr. McLean,” she -stated. - -Donald shot a quick glance at Douglas, but his friend’s face was hidden -in his handkerchief to smother a sudden attack of coughing. In spite of -Donald’s great effort at self-control, he felt a warm flush rise in his -cheeks. What had Douglas divulged? Did his sister know of his -participation in a boxing-match? He looked at Douglas appealingly. It -was evident that he would receive no aid from that quarter, as that -young man’s only assistance was a prolonged coughing that effectually -drowned immediate conversation, but would have to stop sooner or later -for lack of breath. - -At this crucial moment Robert Rennie came to his assistance. “I would -like Mr. McLean to witness a sunset from our roof,” he said as he rose -from the table. “Let us have our coffee served there. The light will be -gone if we wait longer.” - -As they ascended the stairs Donald gave his host a grateful look, which -Mr. Rennie returned understandingly. That moment cemented an instant -friendship in Donald’s heart for this broad-minded Western millionaire. - -From the eminence of the tiny roof garden the City, sliced with streets, -lay at their feet. To the north the mountains were invested with a -mystic blue haze, through which towered the snow-clad peaks. To the west -lay the curving white sands of English Bay, and beyond, in the clear air -of the long British Columbia twilight, they could see the strong -mountainous profile of Vancouver Island. - -“The topography of our City,” explained Robert Rennie, “lying between -Burrard Inlet and False Creek, is very much like that of New York on -Manhattan Island. The narrows are deep enough for the largest ship -afloat, and the Inlet—a veritable inland sea—has unlimited room for -docks. - -“The name ‘Narrows’ seems a feeble word for such a magnificent spot,” -observed Donald. - -“Quite true,” admitted Robert Rennie. “It was only yesterday that one of -our public-spirited citizens suggested the name ‘Lions’ Gate’.” - -“Oh, Dad, that would be lovely!” exclaimed Janet, her eyes shining. “The -‘Lions’ Gate,’ with the two watchful Lions looking down on all who -enter. The name is most fitting.” - -“Yes,” concurred Douglas, “Canada being one of the Lion’s whelps, what -more appropriate name than ‘Lions’ Gate,’ the western gateway to the -British Empire?” - -“The Creator was wonderfully kind to us in His allotment of mountains,” -said Janet’s father; “mountains that are not only valuable for their -scenic beauty, but for their mineral-filled rocks and forest-clad sides. -Our bays, inlets and streams are filled with fish, and our climate is so -mild on the Coast that man can live in comfort amid congenial -surroundings the year round. - -“Here we have the last of the Great West,” continued Mr. Rennie. “With -nearly four hundred thousand miles of territory, a coast line seven -thousand miles in length, our population for the entire Province is less -than one of the Coast cities to the south of us. Here in this vast -untouched hinterland,” swinging his arm to the north and east, “lies a -potential wealth that will support millions, a wealth that is awaiting -the magic touch of capital and settlers—capital to provide railways; -farmers to till the rich valley; miners to unlock the vast hoards of -gold and copper; and loggers to fell the virgin forests. Some day—and -that day is not far distant—all this will come to pass, and you young -folks will see a railroad from Vancouver to the Behring Sea.” The -speaker’s face was flushed and his eyes were glowing. “Who knows,” he -finished dreamily, “but what the railroad I am building will be a link -in the Alaskan road of the future?” - -“Here is a family,” thought Donald, “all native-born, who have a deep -and abiding faith in the destiny of the land of their birth.” - -Addressing Mr. Rennie, he said: “If the love that you and yours have for -this Province is typical of the average citizen, I see no need to fear -for the future of your country.” - -“Thank you,” the older man replied gravely. “Our population is made up -of people from all parts of the world, as our native-born are few. A -cosmopolite is more or less indifferent to the future of the country in -which he resides. ‘Get the money’ is unfortunately the slogan of many of -our business men, who make no attempt to build for the future. Until -such time as there is ingrained in the hearts of our citizens a true -love for our Province; until such time as our cities and towns forget -petty bickerings and jealousies and work together and harmoniously, -then—and only then—will British Columbia become what Nature intended, -the crowning jewel of the British Empire.” - -Janet’s guests arrived in groups of two and three until about twenty of -Vancouver’s younger set were scattered about the large rooms. In -introducing Donald to her friends Janet felt a warm glow of satisfaction -as she saw the many glances of keen interest directed toward her -stranger guest. - -A slender girl with elaborately coiffed golden hair, looking like a -white butterfly, fluttered to Janet’s side and shook a reproving finger -in her face. “’Fess up now, Janet,” she pouted; “how long have you been -hiding this handsome man? Who is this Prince Charming?” - -“Curiosity killed the cat,” was Janet’s evasive reply. - -Donald had no penchant for social functions, but this lively party was a -grateful respite from a whole winter of lonely evenings, and he entered -into the spirit of the occasion wholeheartedly. - -A game of whist and then the big rooms were cleared and they danced -until a late hour. At Donald’s request Janet sang for them. Her rich -contralto voice seemed to fill the room and set the air pulsing with -sweet harmony. She sang a song of love and passion that seemed to bear -Donald into another world. As he turned the final sheet and the last -liquid note travelled through the rooms he roused himself as though from -a spell. That voice! How strangely it affected him! He looked down to -find Janet’s dark eyes fixed on his. - -“Will you please sing again?” he implored. - -“The same?” she questioned softly. - -He nodded. Donald’s gaze travelled from the flying white fingers to the -lovely face of the singer. As their eyes met Janet’s face flushed -slightly, and at the finish of the verse she changed quickly to a -rollicking song of the sea. “All join in,” she called merrily over her -shoulder. - -After Janet’s other guests had departed Donald, Douglas and Janet sat -for an hour chatting by the large fireplace. - -“May I go with you as far as Squamish to-morrow?” asked Janet. - -“Certainly, Sis.” - -“And when the railroad is through I will visit you,” she added. - -Douglas looked at her curiously. Janet abhorred roughing it. Riding -around Stanley Park and an occasional game of tennis comprised the -extent of her outdoor activities. Douglas glanced at the clock and came -quickly to his feet. “I’d better hustle you home, Donald,” he said, “as -we have to be up early.” - -The tinted shade of the hall light lent a soft radiance to the dark -beauty of Janet’s face and gave to her eyes a deep and languorous glow. - -“I have enjoyed every moment. Thank you so much,” Donald said earnestly. - -“I’m glad,” she answered in a quiet voice. - -He took her hand and held it in a strong pressure. “I’ll see you in the -morning?” - -“Yes,” she murmured softly. - -The door closed gently and Janet heard him run down the steps to the -whirring motor. She stood immovable until the sound of the car died in -the distance, then walked meditatively to the fireplace, sank to a big -chair and stared dreamily into the dying embers. Idly she reached for -the evening paper and spread it on her knees. - -“Such dignity and poise! He is wonderful!” she whispered aloud. “I must -ask Douglas more about him.” - -She lowered her eyes to the paper, then came slowly to her feet, a look -of blank amazement on her face. Smiling up at her was the face of the -man of whom she had been dreaming. - - “Canadian Champion - - “New Canadian champion, whose spectacular defeat of Garrieau - stamps him as a master of fistiana and places him in line to - meet the world’s top-notchers.” - -A pugilist! And she had proudly introduced him to her friends! Why -hadn’t Douglas told her? She threw herself into a chair and gave herself -over to a period of gloomy contemplation. - -Whistling softly, Douglas shut off the hall lights and entered the room. -“Not in bed yet? You’d better——” he broke off suddenly as she turned -cold eyes upon him. - -“Why didn’t you tell me that your friend is a pugilist?” she demanded as -she thrust the offending sheet in Douglas’s hand. “In the glove -business!” she went on sarcastically. “That may be your idea of a joke, -but I don’t see anything funny about it.” And without waiting for an -answer she flung herself angrily from the room. - -Douglas lighted a cigarette, which he smoked with short angry puffs as -he walked the floor. He kicked viciously at an inoffensive footstool and -sent it hurtling across the room. “Damn!” Then throwing the half-smoked -cigarette in the fireplace, he switched off the light and sought his -bed. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - -In spite of the late hour of his retiring, Donald was up early and was -the first of the party to reach the dock. Gillis and Andy arrived soon -after, the latter staggering manfully under his heavy pack, a rifle -swinging loosely in his hand. - -Donald stepped forward as Douglas appeared. His face fell as he saw that -he was alone. “Isn’t your sister coming?” he asked. - -Douglas avoided Donald’s direct gaze. He leaned over to fumble -needlessly with the straps of his duffle-bags. “She’s peeved; saw your -photograph in last night’s paper.” - -“I’m sorry,” said Donald, obviously distressed. - -“Janet makes me tired,” said Douglas irritably. “What if you did fight -Garrieau? What difference does it make?” - -“Your sister’s view-point is different,” answered Donald gloomily. “You -must be curious to know more about me, Doug, yet you have never asked -any questions.” - -“I have often wondered,” admitted Douglas; “but if you wished me to know -you would tell me. I don’t give a hang who you are or what you are. You -suit me.” - -“Thanks, Doug.” - -The shrill blast of the steamer’s whistle smote their ears. - -“’Ere, you blighters!” shouted Andy from the top deck, “are you goin’ on -this blinkin’ picnic?” - -The lines were cast off, the water boiled under the steamer’s stern. -They backed slowly from the dock, swung about and headed for the -Narrows. The scores of screaming gulls that accompanied them hovered -over the deck, their keen eyes on the lookout for any bits of waste food -that should fall in the steamer’s wake. Boats plied in and out, every -kind of craft from small fishing-boat to ocean liner. - -A bright sun, beaming with all the warmth and splendour of full morning, -bathed inlet and mountain in a wide shower of gold. A strong westerly -wind bucked an outgoing tide, the foam of tossing wave crests flashing -white in the sunlight. The tumbling combers hissed and crashed against -the sturdy bow of the boat, causing her to pitch jerkily. The salt -breeze whipped a glow into the faces of the party gathered near the -pilot-house and strummed noisily through the masts and superstructure. A -yacht-like passenger steamer from Victoria, painted a pure white, swept -past them, a smother of foam at her bow. A rakishly-built tug trudged -cityward with a huge raft of logs in tow, a pillar of inky smoke -streaming over her bow. - -As they passed the sheer wall of Prospect Point, Donald’s thought -reverted to his first meeting with Janet. Douglas, who had been studying -the shore through binoculars, passed the glasses to Donald and pointed -to the bluff. At first he saw nothing of special interest and turned to -glance at Douglas inquiringly. - -“Janet,” smiled Douglas. - -Sure enough, he now saw a horse and rider on the highest point etched in -miniature against the dark green woods. Douglas waved a handkerchief, -and Donald caught a flutter of white from the dizzy promontory. His mind -was filled with conjectures. Why was she there? Had she still a kindly -feeling for him despite last night’s exposure? - -Janet could not herself have explained her reason for being there. She -was up early, stole quietly to the stable, saddled her horse and rode to -the Park. Riding steadily all the morning, she had battled with herself, -had summoned all her courage to resist the spell this strange young man -held over her, only to find that her will was impotent. - -As she now waved her handkerchief she strained her eyes in a vain effort -to single out Donald’s tall form. Suddenly a feeling of shame for her -weakness came over her. “Can’t you forget him?” she asked herself -irritably. “A prize-fighter!” Whirling her horse about she galloped -swiftly toward the City. - - * * * * * - -The Rennie C. & L. Co. were already operating trains to Cheakamus, -twelve miles from the Coast. An engine with two coaches was waiting to -convey the passengers—chiefly labourers carrying blankets—to “the end -of steel.” - -At Cheakamus the atmosphere was tense with activity. Engines shunted -back and forth; the scream of a big circular saw came from a mill that -was turning huge fir logs into ties; mule-skinners shouted as they -backed their heavy wagons to the platform to be loaded with supplies. At -both sides of the track were huge piles of ties, lumber and rails. The -newly-arrived labourers hoisted their packs to their backs and set off -up the road. - -It was plain that this settlement was not built for permanency; it was a -typical mushroom town. The rough board buildings still retained the -colour of green lumber. Heaps of tin cans, piles of waste lumber, and -the various parts of broken wagons littered the ground. The -picturesqueness that Donald had expected to find in this wilderness camp -was lacking, but he was vastly thrilled by the stupendous power -exhibited in the combined forces of men and machinery. - -From up the line came the roar of a terrific blast that made the ground -tremble and sent rumbling echoes through the valley. A whole train-load -of logs were dumped into the millpond with a crash that sent the water -in a hissing wave that struck the opposite shore and exploded in a -seething mass of dirty white foam. The air seemed charged with a dynamic -energy which caused the blood to tingle in the veins. - -In the yard of a stable a number of horses lay on the ground or stood -weakly with drooping heads. - -“Horse hospital,” informed Gillis, to Donald’s inquiry. - -Donald moved to the fence, his heart filled with pity. Two men, one -carrying a rifle, entered the enclosure and walked to the side of a -handsome big Clydesdale that stood on slayed legs, his head lowered and -his eyes filled with mute agony. One foreleg was terribly swollen, and a -long, livid wound showed on one powerful hip. - -“Sorry, Pete, but Doc. sez he’s got to go,” said the man with the rifle -regretfully, as he slipped a halter over the stricken animal’s head. - -The man addressed as Pete patted the horse’s head affectionately. “I bin -drivin’ old Bob for about six years, Bill. We knows each other like a -book.” He pressed his face roughly to the horse’s muzzle. “Don’t we, old -pal?” he finished in a muffled tone. - -Pulling and coaxing they urged the doomed animal through the gate. - -“You needn’t go, Pete,” said the man with the gun. - -His companion stopped near Donald and stood staring after the painfully -limping animal. Nearing the woods the horse stopped short, lifted his -head high on his arched neck, and sent out a clarion call that was -answered by weak nickers from his mates within the corral. - -A few men glanced up casually, then turned to their tasks. Work went on -as usual. The mill clattered, drivers shouted, engine bells -clanged—only a horse that was no more useful being led to his death. An -everyday occurrence in a construction camp. - -For a short interval the noble animal held his majestic pose, then, -swaying awkwardly, he disappeared from view. At the sharp crack of the -rifle the man by Donald’s side winced as though the bullet had seared -his own flesh. Brushing the sleeve of his coarse mackinaw shirt hastily -across his eyes, he muttered a curse, then turned and ran with stumbling -steps to his waiting team, mounted the seat and clucked gently to his -four horses. The big animals strained against their collars. The huge -load moved slowly at first, then, gathering momentum, rolled swiftly up -the road. - -Gillis brought five cayuses to the rear of the station, and in a few -minutes his practised hands loaded two of them with their luggage. - -The small cavalcade moved up the dusty road in a single file, with -Douglas in the lead. They overtook and met numbers of freight wagons, -going in and out, the drivers shouting greetings to each other in -foreign tongues. They passed the track-laying machine, which was -throwing the heavy rails about as if they were matches in giant hands. -Guards stopped them without the zone of flying débris while giant blasts -rent the air as if some titanic monster had torn the earth asunder. Huge -rocks soared above the trees, then crashed to the ground with sickening -thuds, while small pebbles spattered about them. - -Through the trees they saw a cloud of steam and smoke. The air was -shrill with incessant quick steam-whistles as a huge steam-shovel -growled and tore like a ravenous monster at the gravelled hillside. Four -men bearing a stretcher came slowly down the trail. A man on horseback, -wearing riding-breeches and leather leggings, rode in their wake. - -“How are you, Doctor Paul?” greeted Douglas. “Is it a serious accident?” - -“Tree fell on him. Broke both legs, and he is hurt internally—won’t -live,” answered the doctor in a low voice. - -Donald glimpsed the face of the sufferer showing ashen through a stubby -beard. Bloody bandages framed two crimson-stained lips, from which -issued gurgling groans of agony. They moved on in silence for a few -moments. - -“When people ride in trains,” observed Gillis “there ain’t one in a -thousand that knows what it costs in sufferin’ and lives to make it so’s -they can ride in comfort.” - -By mid-afternoon they came to the vanguard of the army of workers, the -men who were clearing the right-of-way. At intervals they could hear the -long-drawn cry of the choppers as the top of a giant tree shivered and -then with a great rending crash fell to earth with a resounding roar. -Here they came to the end of the new road, and with a feeling of relief -they plunged into the cool shadow of the virgin woods. After the great -clamour, the forest, through which the trail wandered deviously, seemed -steeped in primal calm. The roar of the blasts no longer came in -definite crashes, but was smothered by the distance to a muffled rumble. - -A rider jogging down the trail reined in his horse and shouted a cheery -greeting in true Western style. He was a clean-limbed, alert young man, -with a frank smile, and seemed elastic with the sword-keen health of -outdoors. He swung easily from the saddle and introduced himself. - -“My name is Wilkinson. I am the District Ranger. It’s getting a bit dry -in spots, so I want you to be careful about your fires.” - -When Douglas told him the object of their trip to Summit Lake the Ranger -smiled apologetically. - -“My warning was unnecessary, then. I took you for a party of campers. -I’m following the construction work, so will probably see you again -before long.” - -He mounted his cayuse, waved his hand in farewell, then galloped down -the trail. - -The narrow path wound around the boles of enormous trees towering high -above them, some of the tallest being nearly two hundred feet in height. -Gillis appraised them with a critical eye. He was thinking of them as -logs, calculated in terms of board feet, but over Donald their beauty -and nobility cast a strange spell. How long had these monarchs enjoyed -the repose so soon to be broken by puny man? Probably some of them were -good-sized trees when Columbus discovered America. - -The solemnity of the forest was at times broken by the sharp -“ka-a-a-a-a-h” of startled deer as they caught their scent, or the -sudden hum of wings as big blue-grouse shot up from their path. Once the -horses pricked their ears and snorted in fear as a bear crashed his way -through the deep woods. - -As daylight abandoned the forest and twilight made eerie shadows on the -dusky trail, they swung to an open space on the banks of the roaring -Cheakamus River, and made camp for the night. - -At daybreak they began the upward climb, and by noon felt the buoyancy -of the air in the higher altitude. They crossed rushing streams and -skirted the shores of small lakes on whose waters rested flocks of ducks -in gregarious raft-like formations. The cayuses with their enormous -packs showed signs of fatigue, and Gillis called frequent halts as the -trail grew gradually steeper. - -“We are nearly there,” cried Douglas eagerly. - -A few minutes later they topped a heavily-wooded hill and swung in to a -narrow path on their right. There was no need to guide the horses, as -they knew that here were rest and food for them. - -There was a sudden quickening along the line. Donald’s horse broke into -a run, with Andy’s close behind, the latter holding to the rear of his -saddle and making a wry face. - -“I wish I knew ’ow to keep this ’ere blinkin’ saddle from comin’ up and -hittin’ me in the seat,” said Andy querulously. - -Donald reined in his eager horse as they emerged from the woods and an -enchanting scene burst on his view. - -“This blinkin’ ’orse is. . . .” Andy stopped as his gaze followed -Donald’s. Both sat spell-bound, and the others joined them quietly. - -The panorama spread before them was singularly wild and impressive. -Below them stretched a lake of emerald hue, rippled here and there by -occasional cat’s-paws, but for the most part, placid enough to reflect -the shores with mirror-like clearness. To their right lay an open -valley, through which ran a crystal clear mountain stream, its banks -fringed with willow, alder and cottonwood, with frequent splashes of the -early blooming labrador tea. A rustic bridge of logs crossed the rushing -stream to a cluster of well-built log cabins that were fenced in by a -palisade of cedar posts. Inside the enclosure a patch of freshly -ploughed soil stood out rich and dark against the carpet of green. - -Under an azure sky, dotted with fleecy clouds, a brilliantly white -sky-line of ice-covered mountains, whose peaks flashed in the setting -sun, circled this beautiful mountain valley. - -From below were wafted the odours of an awakening earth. The sweet -perfume of the newly-opened and sticky buds of the balm-of-gilead, the -delicious aroma of the spruce and pine, the heavy, sweet smell of the -water plants and the white orchis; all this fragrance was borne on the -crisp, sparkling mountain air. Involuntarily the travellers filled their -lungs with this life-giving atmosphere. - -A beautiful gold-eye drake and his drab-coloured mate swam along the -shore in search of a safe place to nest. From the centre of the lake a -loon sent out its weird cry, echoing and re-echoing from the wooded -hills like wild, demoniacal laughter. A quick rush of wings overhead, -then a mallard duck struck the water with a loud splash and immediately -set up a sustained quacking until answered by a more gentle note from -the reeds, whence emerged a hen-mallard. The two met amid a great -bobbing of heads. Gabbling in an undertone they swam down the lake -together. - -The elusive hooting of male blue-grouse came from the tree-tops of the -rocky slopes. A willow grouse moved from a clump of bushes with a -haughty step to show her finery by ruffling the feathers of her neck and -spreading her fan-like tail. There was a sharp “plop” as a rainbow trout -curved gracefully on the surface to leave a widening circle of ripples -on the calm water. All through this sun-washed valley was the soft -murmur of a land at peace—at peace because unspoiled by man. - -Donald drew a long breath. - -“Strike me pink!” breathed Andy in an awed tone. - -“Holy mackerel! but ain’t she a pretty spot?” came excitedly from -Gillis. - -As they rumbled across the bridge a man came to the door of the log -cabin, ran swiftly to the fence and swung the gate open. With a hand -held to his brow to shade his eyes from the slanting rays of the setting -sun, he peered up at the horsemen. His eyes lighted up as he recognized -Douglas. - -“Hello, ol’ timer!” he shouted cheerily. - -John Hillier filled the dual rôle of trapper and road-house keeper. His -fantastic dress of deerskin, the six-shooter slung at his hip, and the -big sombrero that topped his shaggy grey head gave him almost a sinister -appearance. - -Old John’s face was savage and wild, but his bristly moustache hid a -mouth as tender as a woman’s. Great shaggy brows beetling out over his -grey mountaineer eyes could not conceal the softness that crept into -them so often. His gentle eyes seemed out of place in that homely, -battle-scarred face. It was like finding a touch of romance in a -treatise on trigonometry. - -He was known under several sobriquets: “Trapper” John, “Coffee” John, -and “Mahogany” John. “Coffee” John for the excellence of his brew of -that beverage, and of which he drank enormous quantities. His call to -meals: “Come and throw your feet under the mahogany,” supplied the -reason for the cognomen of “Mahogany” John. - -With the assistance of their host they unsaddled the tired horses and -turned them into the pasture, where they rolled luxuriously on their -backs for a moment, and then started feeding hungrily on the rich -clover. - -A wind shook the tree-tops and turned the surface of the lake dark with -ripples. High in air, streaming dark clouds scudded swiftly by. - -“Got here jest in time,” said the old trapper, as he looked up at the -sky. “It’s a goin’ to rain. Come inside.” - -John had served as cook in a cowboy camp in Texas. He never overlooked -an opportunity to make ostentatious display of his skill in the culinary -art. - -“Jest set my bread this mornin’,” he explained, “so I’ll hev’ ter make a -bannock.” - -Taking a tin pan from the shelf, he threw it the full length of the room -to the table. He tossed the cooking utensils about like a practised -juggler. Soon the bannock swelled to the rim of the frying-pan, the -edges showing brown and crisp. He lifted the heavy dish from the stove, -and with a dexterous twist of his wrist threw the bannock to the ceiling -and caught it neatly in the centre of the pan as it came down. He dipped -a half dozen trout in the yolk of eggs, rolled them in flour, then -tossed them with apparent carelessness, but with deadly aim, one at a -time, to the sizzling pan. From a shelf he took two glass jars and -turned their contents into an earthenware dish on the stove. Immediately -the room was filled with an aroma that caused the newcomers to sniff -hungrily. - -“Mr. Hillier,” began Andy, “what. . . .” - -“Mr. Hillier! Hell! My name’s John,” exploded the trapper. - -“I was goin’ to ask you what kind o’ meat that is that smells so good,” -grinned Andy. - -“Muskrat.” - -“What?” - -“Muskrat,” repeated their host, turning to the astonished Australian. -“Did ye ever eat any?” - -“No,” returned Andy weakly, “I don’t care much for meat anyway.” - -“They’re darn good eatin’,” affirmed the trapper. “Reason folks won’t -try ’em is because they think that they are a rat. Their right name is -musquash, and they live on vegetable food only. Did any of you fellers -ever see ‘Diamond Back Terrapin’ on a bill-of-fare in restaurants?” - -“I have, many times,” answered Donald. - -“Well, ’bout half the time when the waiter hands ye what ye think is -turtle he’s givin’ you musquash,” stated the trapper as he speared a -cube of butter with a long fork and shot it accurately to the debated -dish. - -Andy laughed outright. “Strike me fair, John, you’ve got anythin’ I ever -see beat a block for slingin’ grub.” - -John was pleased. “Oh, I’m fair to middlin’ good,” he admitted. - -John served the dinner in the pots and pans in which the food had been -cooked, and piled the table with enough to serve a dozen men. “Like to -see lots of grub in sight,” smiled the old trapper. He placed a big -steaming coffeepot in the centre of the table, and then sent out his -original dinner-call. “Throw your feet under the mahogany!” he roared. - -The party needed no second call. The mountain air had given them wolfish -appetites and they made huge inroads on the trapper’s well-cooked -dinner. With the exception of Andy, they ate and enjoyed the musquash; -the meat being fine-grained and tender. John was visibly disappointed by -Andy’s refusal to try this delicacy. - -“Try it, ol’ timer,” he insisted, as he pushed the steaming pan across -the table. - -Andy made a wry face. “Don’t feel jest hungry to-night,” he mumbled. - -Dinner finished, Donald pushed back his chair and lighted a cigarette. -“John, that was a dandy meal, and your coffee sure is a nectar fit for -the gods.” - -The trapper was justly proud of his cooking. Donald’s praise brought a -deeper tinge of colour to his bronzed face. He refilled the tin cups and -they sat quietly smoking and sipping the fragrant coffee. - -After the day in the open and the excellent meal it was pleasant to sit -in the genial warmth of the cabin while the storm which had been -gathering broke overhead and the incessant patter of rain sounded on the -roof. - -Between Andy and John there sprang up a comradeship based on the -peculiar brotherhood which often exists between small men. Each found in -the other traits that amused him. - -“Comical little duck,” was John’s opinion of Andy. - -“Strike me pink! He’s the funniest old geezer that I ever saw in me -life,” Andy confided to Donald. - -Together they washed the dishes and tidied up the room. When they had -finished Andy dragged in his duffle-bag, rummaged through the contents, -and produced a flask of rum. The trapper’s face brightened. - -“I brought this for medicinal purposes,” stated Andy. “How are you -feelin’, John?” - -The mirth wrinkles around the trapper’s eyes deepened. “My misery is -purty bad to-night, ol’ timer.” - -Andy poured liberally into a tin cup. The pungent odour of rum filled -the room. Old John sniffed the contents. “Whuff!” he yowled, “good -licker!” - -The old trapper, standing in the centre of the room, presented a figure -wild and strange. His coat of buckskin was open at the throat to expose -a hairy chest. His mane-like mass of wiry hair stood straight out and -shook with every movement of his body. A veritable wild man of the woods -he looked as he grasped the cup and held it up to his admiring gaze. - -The storm had reached the height of its fury. The wind roared and moaned -like a famished wild thing denied its kill. Occasionally a venturesome -gust would find its way down the chimney to send thin puffs of smoke to -linger in the air and fill the cabin with the sweet perfume of the -burning alder. - -“Give us a toast, John,” begged Andy. - -The trapper raised his cup on high: - - “I’m the trapper of the mount’n top, - A ring-tail-snorter an’ a dead-sure shot. - I’m wild, I’m woolly an’ full o’ fleas, - I’ve never bin’ curried below the knees, - I live on the fruit o’ the prickly pear, - An’ I play in the brush with the grizzly bear.” - -“Here’s hopin’ ye’ll never see the back o’ yer neck,” he added. Then -placing the cup to his lips he drained the contents with one great gulp. -John’s jaws were well-nigh toothless, and as the fiery liquor scorched -his throat his leathery cheeks folded and unfolded like the pleats of an -accordion. - -“Wow!” he yelped, “she’s sure got a kick.” - -The humorous toast and the trapper’s facial contortions sent Andy into -paroxysms of laughter. - -“Strike me blind!” he gasped, as he held his sides. “I never——” His -eyes rested again on the trapper’s convulsed features. Speech failed him -and he sank writhing to a chair. - -When finally they climbed the ladder to their bunks the rain had ceased -and a brilliant moon flooded the valley with a white light. - -Donald awakened as the first grey streaks of dawn brightened the dusty -windows of the loft. The air was suddenly filled with the sweet song of -birds. Wild-fowl quacked and splashed in the waters of the lake. The -aroma of coffee and frying bacon and the pungent odour of wood smoke was -wafted strongly from below. - -Suddenly the trapper’s shaggy head protruded through the opening at the -top of the ladder. “Get out o’ the hay an’ let the sun shine on ye!” he -boomed. - -“Now, let’s get busy,” said Gillis, when breakfast was over. “The first -thing to do is to find a good spot to pitch our tent.” - -“You’ll find a deserted cabin at t’other end o’ the lake that’ll be a -whole lot more comfortable nor a tent,” informed the trapper. - -The cabin of cedar logs proved to be in good repair and the location -excellent. - -“A couple of days’ work,” observed Gillis, “an’ I can fix her up so’s -we’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug.” - -John had spent the forenoon in baking. Cakes, pies, doughnuts and -cookies were placed at regular intervals on the shelves in platters and -tins tipped at an angle to make the display more effective. It was an -exhibit of pastry that any housewife might envy. The unstinted praise of -his guests was like music to the trapper’s ears. - -For dessert they had a savoury mince-pie, steaming hot from the oven. -Andy waxed most eloquent in his praise of this culinary delight. - -“Have another piece, ol’ timer,” insisted John, his face beaming. - -“You bet I will,” was Andy’s quick response as he transferred a big -slice to his plate. - -“Like it, do ye?” asked John. - -“U-m-m,” mumbled Andy as he devoured the last crumb and settled back -with a sigh of content. - -John’s wrinkled old face spread into a wide grin. From his lips came a -cackling laugh. - -“What’s the joke?” queried Andy. - -“I thought I’d get that muskrat into ye somehow,” chortled the trapper. - -“Well, it’s not so durned bad, after all,” philosophized Andy. - -On the third day after their arrival they moved to the cabin at the head -of the lake. There followed days of arduous toil, days spent in -“blazing” lines through almost impassable swales, up steep hillsides and -through canyons. Days of strenuous exercise in the stimulating air, when -the bright sunshine tanned their faces to a deep brown, brought the glow -of perfect health to their eyes, and gave to their muscles the -resiliency and strength of steel springs. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - -One calm Sunday morning Donald paddled across the lake to try the fly at -the mouth of the small creek which flowed past the trapper’s cabin. The -clear water was as smooth as glass and the trout refused to be lured -from the depths. After casting steadily for fifteen minutes without a -rise, he sat down to enjoy a smoke. Sounds from afar came with -surprising clearness through the quiet air. Andy was splitting wood -outside the cabin door, and the sound of his axe and the words of his -song brought a medley of returning echoes. Loons gabbled, wild ducks of -many varieties shifted their positions with a whistling rush of wings. -The “chee-ry, chee-ry” of a flock of chickadees sounded from a copse of -willows on the creek bank. The warmth of the morning gave promise of a -hot day when the sun should reach the zenith. A breath of cool air -rippled the lake’s surface, bringing with it the faint rumble of a -waterfall high up the mountain-side. Donald paddled to the shore, -crossed the rustic bridge to where the trapper was working in his -garden, and sat down on a convenient stump. - -“Good morning, John.” - -“Mornin’, ol’ timer.” - -“John, is there a waterfall on the big creek?” - -“Yes, I’ve heard ’em, an’ I’ve seen ’em from the ridge, but I ain’t ever -bin close to ’em.” - -“Do you think there would be any fish at the foot of the falls?” - -“Couldn’t say, ol’ timer. It ain’t never bin fished.” - -To the disciples of Isaac Walton the expression “never been fished” -brings an incomparable thrill. To cast a fly on virgin waters is the -acme of bliss to an angler. Donald unjointed his rod, slung his basket -over a shoulder and started toward the trail. - -“Ye better let me fix ye up a lunch to take along,” the trapper shouted -after him. - -“Good suggestion,” admitted Donald as he retraced his steps. - -Fried eggs placed between slices of snow-white bread, fresh doughnuts, -cake and cheese were quickly prepared by the deft hands of the old -trapper, and Donald was again on his way. - -He tried to follow the stream, but the sides were so precipitous that he -was forced to climb to the ridge or “hog-back.” Here he found the -walking excellent, as there was no under-brush and the ground was -covered with a soft moss. - -At intervals through the park-like pines he caught the glint of running -water in the gorge below. The air was warm, but the gentle zephyrs -wafted from the glacial stream brought a coolness that was almost chill. -The sound of the falls became louder as he climbed higher, increasing to -a trembling roar as he came to the edge of a boulder-strewn precipice. -Here there met his gaze a tumbling cascade of water, falling from a -cliff to an iridescent pool sixty feet below. - -Donald scrambled and slid to the lower level, only to find that he would -have to walk down stream and wade up in order to get within reach of the -pool. By leaping from rock to rock he managed to reach a flat ledge near -the side that allowed him perfect freedom for casting. The spray reached -him in the form of a fine mist that felt grateful after his exertions. A -shaft of brilliant sunshine, looking like a searchlight where it -penetrated the heavy mist, was reflected and refracted to form a rainbow -that shone resplendently against the dark wall of the canyon. On each -side rose a sheer wall of rock, with here and there a small fir or -spruce clinging to fissures where sufficient earth had accumulated to -give it nourishment. At the point where the cataract struck the pool -there was a mass of heaving, foaming water that spread in ever lessening -waves to become gentle ripples lapping softly on the shores. - -The little birds known as waterousels, or dippers, were in their -element. Standing on the rocks around which the turbulent waters roared, -they bobbed and curtsied, then flew in under the waterfall to their -nests in the damp niches of the rocks. Far overhead, like a speck in the -azure sky, a bald eagle careened and soared. Over all was the thunder of -the cataract drumming in Donald’s ears and giving to the earth a gentle -tremor. - -He began eagerly to joint his rod, attach leader and flies, and unfold -his landing-net. “There,” he said, when he had completed the task, “I’ll -just throw that in to soak while I have a smoke.” - -He cast carelessly, laid the rod down and reached for a cigarette. -“B-r-r-r-r,” the reel shrilled madly. He made a wild clutch for the rod, -retrieving it just as the tip entered the water. A big rainbow trout -leaped into the air with a flash of prismatic colours, and made that -graceful curve that is so pleasing to the fisherman’s eye. The -five-ounce rod bent double as he checked the trout’s rush. Then the line -slackened as the fish turned and came toward him with incredible speed. -He reeled frantically to take in the slack line. Once more the gamey -trout turned and the line was singing with the strain. Suddenly it went -straight down and in the pellucid depths he could see it lying near the -bottom with tail and fins moving listlessly. Slowly he reeled in the -line, bringing the fish nearer and nearer. With landing-net extended -Donald leaned forward; but with a quick flirt of its tail the trout shot -to the surface, sending a shower of spray in his face. Then, leaping and -dashing—the reel singing merrily—it crossed the pool with renewed -energy. Unexpectedly the whirr of the reel ceased and the rod was nearly -jerked from Donald’s hands—a detested “back lash.” In other words, the -line had tangled at the reel. The slender rod was bent nearly to a -circle. - -“It won’t stand it,” muttered Donald in a fever of excitement. He -lowered the tip slowly to relieve the strain on the rod, all the while -working desperately to free the tangle. Snap! The fish with a tremendous -tug parted the leader, and with one last triumphant leap to flaunt its -brilliant colours, it disappeared. - -It is universally understood among the angling fraternity that when a -fish is lost under such conditions the Recording Angel turns her head. - -In an hour the cold spray from the glacial water had dampened Donald’s -clothing and benumbed his fingers. The basket by then being nearly full, -and his wrist lame from casting and playing the fish, he decided to -quit. As he climbed the ridge the air above felt like a breath from an -oven in contrast to the atmosphere of the canyon. - -Through a tall, stately grove of pines Donald descried an open glade -whence came the sound of running water. He walked through the dark -aisles of towering trees, his feet making no sound on the thick carpet -of soft needles. Pushed aside a growth of low deciduous trees that -fringed this open passage in the woods, he gazed upon a scene that held -him entranced. At some time in the earth’s remote history moving ice had -gouged out this tiny valley and left a rich deposit of glacial silt. A -small mountain stream cascaded from a moss-covered cliff to fall from -ledge to ledge and flash crystal clear and sparkling through the vividly -green grass and bright flowers which formed the carpet of the valley -floor. The brilliant columbine, interspersed with the yellow marigold -and dandelion, made bright splotches of colour. Wild roses hung in -masses in the border of low green shrubs. The white rein orchis grew in -rank profusion everywhere, filling the air with its delicate perfume. -Ferns and cotton grass grew to the very edge of the limpid brook that -prattled musically over the moss-covered stones. A rabbit with her young -nibbled at the tender grass roots at the far side of the creek. -Humming-birds buzzed back and forth and a bluejay—the Paul Pry of the -woods—peered curiously down at the interloper, with its head moving -from side to side and its beady eyes shining. Then with a startled -shriek it flew across the glade—like a streak of blue in the -sunshine—to hold excited colloquy with its mate. A willow grouse sailed -from a cliff above to land with a great preening of feathers and move -with a peculiar gliding run to the shelter of a stand of salal bushes. - -Near the centre of the field was a “fairy ring” of mushrooms about -twelve feet across. The beginning of these rings may be a single -mushroom which drops its spores in a circle about its base. The next -season a smaller ring of mushrooms drops a larger ring of spores, and so -the circle expands year by year, exactly as the ripple spread out on the -surface of a pond when a stone is cast into the water. - -Some fairy rings have been estimated to be six hundred years old. Legend -informs us that these rings are magic circles within which elves and -other nimble fairy folk hold their revels at midnight. There is another -superstition that the rings mark the spots where bolts of lightning have -struck the ground. - -“A fairy-land!” breathed Donald as he stepped into the open. - -It was warm, but now and again a breeze, that had swept between -snow-capped peaks, dropped down into the valley and made the pines sway -and the willow and alder leaves coolly rustle. At the time of these -visitations Donald threw back his head and drew in deep breaths of the -flower-scented breeze. - -Making his way to the foot of the tiny falls, Donald seated himself on a -soft bed of moss and proceeded to eat his lunch. Two birds, of the -species known as “camp-robbers” or “whiskey-jacks,” dropped ghost-like -from nowhere and eyed him reproachfully. He threw them a crust of bread. -There was a shrill cry like that of a hawk, that sent the feathered -visitors in terror to the safety of the trees, and a flash of blue -landed on the bread. With a chuckle, almost human a bluejay flew to the -top of a spruce to enjoy his meal at leisure. - -Donald’s happy laugh rang throughout the sylvan glade and was re-echoed -mockingly from the cliffs. The camp-robbers emerged from their retreat -looking rather crestfallen. They took no chances with the crust thrown -to them the second time. Each seized a generous portion and retreated -hastily. - -Donald selected a soft spot in the shade of a small grove of cedars, -stretched himself at full length on his back, and lighted a cigarette. -The sound of murmuring waters, the rustle of leaves, the gentle sighing -of the pines, and the fragrant, balmy air that fanned his face held a -soporific influence. He watched a fleecy cloud floating far above the -tree-tops in the ethereal blue. A long-tailed wren, of the white throat -and white eye lines sang joyously from a tree nearby. - -Donald’s eyes closed slowly, and in a moment he was in a doze. As though -in a dream he felt something brush his face and he shook his head. An -instant later the tip of a cedar bough fell fairly on his face. He -brushed quickly with his hand as though to dislodge a fly. A larger -branch fell with a gentle swish to land on his nose. This time he opened -his eyes and plucked the branch from his face, noticing as he did so -that it was freshly broken. “Odd,” he thought, and lay with eyes half -closed to detect the cause of this singular occurrence. - -Near the top of the four small cedars under which he lay there seemed to -be a nest-like thickness. There was a movement in the tops of the trees, -and Donald’s amazed eyes saw a little brown hand steal forth holding a -cedar tip. Then a small childish face appeared, surrounded by a mass of -lovely golden hair. The face was one of sheer, exquisite blonde beauty, -marked by a pair of wide, roguish blue eyes, as blue as pansies, a small -pensive mouth that formed a cupid’s bow, and an impudent little nose -dotted with freckles. As the slender hand loosed the branch, Donald’s -astonished eyes looked up directly into the blue ones looking down on -him so full of mischief. There was a startled gasp and the golden head -disappeared amid a great swaying of branches. - -Donald came slowly to his feet, rubbing his eyes. Was this a fantastic -dream, or had he actually seen a child’s face? He looked at the branches -on the ground, and again his eyes sought the tree-tops. He could now see -that some sort of big nest was built within the tops of the four small -cedars. - -“Hello,” he ventured. - -A slight rustling of the branches followed, but no answer. - -“Hello, wood-nymph!” - -Still no answer, but a low silvery laugh was proof that the occupant of -the nest was not a wraith. - -“If you are a fairy,” he persisted, “won’t you come down and give me a -Terpsichorean exhibition in the fairy ring on the floor of your -enchanted glade?” - -“I am a dryad,” came the dulcet tone of a childish voice, “and a dryad’s -life is bound up in her tree. I cannot leave my arboreal bower until the -hour of midnight. - -“We’ll see about that,” laughed Donald as he seized the slender cedars -and rocked them violently. - -A scream of simulated fear came from the tree-tops. “Stop!” the voice -cried, “I’ll come down.” - -A tiny moccasined foot felt its way to a limb, and a slight figure clad -in men’s overalls and a brown cotton shirt, stood erect with downcast -eyes. - -“Jump,” invited Donald, as he stood with arms outstretched; “fairies -don’t weigh much.” - -The “dryad” shook her head bashfully, then with a quick, bird-like -motion sprang straight out into the air, her golden hair streaming and -flashing in the sunshine. She landed gracefully on her moccasined feet -and went bounding across the valley, leaping the creek with the ease and -grace of an antelope, and, without turning her head, disappeared in the -dark forest aisles. - -Donald’s black eyes remained fixed on the spot where the fairy-like -vision vanished from view. His whole attitude registered astonishment. -He was completely mystified by the appearance of a girl in this remote -wilderness. - -He climbed the trees for a glimpse of the golden-haired fairy’s bower. A -rope was tied around the tops of the four cedars, with interlacings of -cord between. This rope pocket was filled with pine boughs, and these -covered with ferns and moss. A cord that led to a nearby spruce was, he -decided, used to impart a swinging motion to this strange maiden’s cosy -retreat. - -In the centre of this cosy nest lay a copy of “Tennyson’s Poems” and a -book on “Bird Life.” As Donald leaned closer a gentle breeze fluttered -the leaves of the book of poems. - -“Fairy hands turned to the right page,” he mused aloud as he read these -lines from “Maud.” - - “My bird with the shining head. - My own dove with the tender eye. . . . - Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, - To the flowers, and be their sun.” - -“A corner of dreamland,” murmured Donald. - -A stronger breeze swept down the valley, causing the nest to rock with -gentle undulations. “A novel idea,” he thought, “and what a restful spot -to sleep and dream!” - -Donald was tempted to finish his nap in the vacated dryad’s nest, but -put the thought aside as being almost a sacrilege. He descended to the -ground, picked up his basket and started down the mountain. As he neared -the lake he saw the trapper with Douglas and Andy sitting outside the -cabin door. - -“Any luck, ol’ timer?” - -Donald lifted the lid of the basket. - -“Whew!” ejaculated the trapper. “Them’s wallopers, ain’t they?” - -“John,” queried Donald as he sat down on the grass, “did you ever see a -dryad?” - -“A what?” - -“A dryad.” - -The trapper’s wrinkled face puckered. “Yeh,” he answered quizzically, “I -seen lots of them fellers in Vancouver one time after I’d bin drinkin’ -for a week.” - -Donald told of his meeting with the strange child of the forest. “Who is -she, John?” he asked. - -“That was little Connie Wainwright. She an’ her father live in a little -valley t’other side of that bluff,” pointing up the mountain. “She’s a -great kid, too. She has a hoss that’s named after a hoss that had wings. -I forgit the name she calls him.” The trapper pondered for a moment. - -“Pegasus,” prompted Donald. - -“That’s it. She rides that hoss like a Texas Ranger, an’ she’s a crack -shot with the rifle. Funny thing, though, she ain’t ever shot anything -to my knowledge ’cept a cougar that tried to get her pet deer. Her -father’s jest the same, he won’t kill nothin’ an’ they’ve got all the -birds ’round their cabin as tame as chickens. They are always studyin’ -birds, flowers, an’ animals. He’s an Englishman of eddication, an’ he’s -eddicated the kid, too. Was the ‘Breed’ with her?” - -“No. Who is the Breed?” - -“He’s a half-breed Indian with a lame leg. He came over the trail ’bout -two years ago. Got one look at that shiny haired kid an’ thought she was -an angel, I guess, an’ has been hantin’ her ever since. He built hisself -a cabin up there. Works for Wainwright in the summer an’ traps in the -winter. He follers that kid ’round like a dog follers its master.” - -Donald was interested. - -“I must call on them.” - -“He’ll be glad to see ye, as ye can talk his lingo. His langwidge is too -high-falutin’ for me. He sometimes comes to ask me ’bout the habits of -animals, but I got a sneakin’ notion that he knows more ’bout it than I -do.” - -That evening Donald and Andy visited the recluse. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - -The trail to Wainwright’s cabin was a mere path that followed the -vagaries of a small mountain stream which at times flowed with a -tranquil murmur, then suddenly plunged over ledges and shattered itself -into creamy foam on the worn rocks below. - -Out of breath from the steep climb, Donald and Andy sat down as they -reached the bluff. Everywhere was the song of birds and the whispering -of gentle zephyrs laden with the fragrance of the forest. - -“Whit, whit, whit, ch’ wee-e-e-e,” sounded the shrill hunting call of an -osprey, or “fish-hawk,” as he wheeled over the lake, then made his -spectacular plunge and rose on high with a fish gripped in his long, -powerful talons. Donald watched him carry it to his mate, who was -standing guard over a big nest in the top of a dead pine. Again the male -bird dropped like a bolt, struck the water with a loud splash, and -disappeared below the surface for a few seconds, then rose to scatter -spray in his struggles to lift himself clear of the water. - -A bald eagle, from the vantage point of a tall fir, took instant note of -the successful fisherman, and with a majestic swoop flew under the -smaller bird. Higher and higher rose the osprey, the eagle relentlessly -pursuing, until at last the intimidated bird released its hold on the -prize. With a scream of triumph the eagle seized the glistening, -wriggling fish in mid-air and bore it away. - -From the woods in their rear came the lilt of a song mingled with the -thud of flying hoofs, and around a tangle of low spruce came a piebald -cayuse at full gallop. On his bare back the girl of the woods was -standing with arms outstretched, pirouetting on her moccasined toes like -a dancing dervish. Her heavy hair streaming about her face and -shoulders, she seemed even more an elf than when poised for flight on -the edge of her fairy nest. As she neared the bluff she settled to her -seat and seized the reins. - -Donald came to his feet. For a moment it seemed as if he were to be -passed unnoticed. He ran to the trail and waved his arm with a welcoming -shout. This brought him a flash of startled blue eyes, then the cayuse -with a snort of fear went straight up into the air, spinning high on his -hindlegs. A sharp word of command and a quick twist of the nut-brown -hands caused the frightened beast to half turn and lower his forelegs -gently to the ground. As he stepped to the cayuse’s head Donald noted -the lean and sinewed flanks of the animal, the strong muscled shoulders, -and the slender but powerful limbs. He stroked the shiny neck and -Pegasus made answer to such advances by rubbing his moist nose against -Donald’s shoulder. - -“Nothing mythical about this steed,” observed Donald, gently prodding -the bunched muscles on the horse’s chest. “And,” he added jestingly, “I -do not see the golden bridle presented by the goddess to Bellerophon -while he slept.” - -A subtle flicker danced momentarily in the corners of the blue orbs of -the rider. “I have clipped his wings, so I have no need of the magic -bridle,” she said smilingly. - -The voice was gentle and mellow. The pronunciation, clear and perfect, -held a trace of English accent that was pleasing to Donald’s ears. One -could not look upon Connie without thinking of flowers, birds and -sunshine. Constant exercise had turned her muscles into cords of steel; -mountain air and sunshine had darkened her face and hands to a deep -bronze and brought to her cheeks a warm glow that showed richly through -the coat of tan. - -Connie looked on this stranger as a being infinitely beyond her ken, a -part of a world of which she had no knowledge. His tall, well-knit body, -his shining black hair, dark flashing eyes, his fine clothes and his -deep resonant voice were a source of wonder and admiration to this girl, -whose knowledge of men was limited to a few lone trappers and Indians. -She was suddenly disconcerted and felt like running away. - -“I was on my way to call on you. Is your father home?” - -Surprised at her own boldness, Connie slipped lightly to the ground and -stood beside him. - -“Yes,” she rejoined awkwardly, “he is. I’ll go with you.” - -Donald spoke again, with a playful smile that caused the girl to flush -with a mixture of pleasure and confusion. “I thought when I saw you -poised on Pegasus’s back that a close inspection would disclose a pair -of transparent, gauzy wings, but,” peering at her shoulders, “evidently -the rider is clipped as well.” - -As they walked up the path, Andy following, it seemed to Connie that -they were strolling through the fields of Elysium. - -At first glance Donald saw that Wainwright’s log cabins had been built -by a rank novice. The walls were rakishly askew, the corners out of -plumb, and the joints showed big gaps filled with moss. The rough -construction of the dissimilar, rambling cluster of houses served to -enhance rather than mar the wild grandeur of this oasis on the rocky -mountain-side. - -Into this valley poured a mountain stream which had gouged out for -itself a canyon, through which its waters swept and tumbled, as green as -jade in the sunlight, like emerald in the shadow, and snowy white in the -roaring rapids. On the other side, the towering profiles of the cliffs -were edged with stunted growths of pine and spruce, while here and there -were soft patches of green moss clinging to the damp places. - -The few acres wrested from the wilderness were rich with a green carpet -of clover and timothy, and in a pasture at the corner a sleek Jersey cow -was feeding diligently. In the same enclosure a deer nibbled delicately -at the tender shoots. A flock of pure white ducks, in single file, -waddled down the hill and plunged with a subdued quacking into a small -pond. Within a yard enclosed by a fence of split cedar the lusty crow of -a rooster sounded above the cackling of his family. - -The low walls of the main cabin were festooned with a mass of wild -creepers in which the wild honeysuckle predominated. Wild flowers, each -species separate, were growing in neat round plots bordered with -carefully arranged stones. Scores of birds flitted through the low -bushes, rested on fences and roofs, or hopped unafraid through the -grass. Siskins and finches there were, in gold or olive; blue jays and -their cousins, the camp-robbers; bluebirds; sparrows singing sweetly; -waxwings “zeeping” through the garden; warblers gurgling softly; -scolding grey flycatchers and numerous other species unknown to Donald. - -A camp-robber flew to Connie’s outstretched arm. From the capacious -pocket of her overalls she brought a crust of bread, at which the bird -pecked hungrily. Another bird lighted on the brim of Andy’s wide hat. -The little man attempted to peer up at it without moving his head, and -the effort set his bushy eyebrows dancing. “Get off there, you -blighter!” he growled. “I don’t want any bloomin’ trimmin’s on me ’ead -gear.” - -It was the first time Andy had spoken. Connie turned to him, her eyes -wide with curiosity. His droll face, the strange dialect and the lively -eyebrows caused a flock of dimples to chase each other about her pretty -lips. - -Connie’s father and the Breed, working in the vegetable garden below, -glanced up and, seeing the strangers, laid down their tools and came up -the hill, the Breed moving jerkily on his crippled limb. - -Raleigh Wainwright was a man of rather striking appearance. He was -slender, grey-haired, clean chiselled, and carried himself with a -military bearing. There was a certain fineness in the slight figure, a -symmetry of design, that suggested that indefinable something which is -the hall-mark of good breeding. He had a way of carrying his well-shaped -head that accentuated this aristocratic air. His grey eyes met Donald’s -with a level gaze as they shook hands. - -After a cursory glance, Joe Pardon, the Breed, settled himself on a seat -against the wall of the cabin and rolled a cigarette. His face was -swarthy and sombre; coarse black hair topped his head. In repose his -features wore the impassive expression of the Indian, but when he -smiled—which rarely happened—he showed the French strain in his blood -and became almost handsome. He was of a sturdier build than the average -Siwash Indian, and as he leaned against the logs, with muscular arms -folded across his powerful chest, one would have thought him the -embodiment of all that is strong and virile in man, until the eyes -rested on the pitifully malformed leg, shrunken to one-half its normal -size. - -“Won’t you come inside?” asked Wainwright politely. - -“Thank you,” answered Donald, “but if you don’t mind I’d rather look at -your flower garden.” - -It was quite evident that their host was pleased by this statement. “You -are interested in flowers?” he questioned eagerly. - -“I am,” admitted Donald, “but unfortunately I don’t know much about -them.” - -The dignified Englishman proved to be not only an intelligent, but a -most willing teacher. From plot to plot they went, the botanist glad to -talk on his hobby to an attentive audience. He gave the names of the -plants, their mode of germination, growth, nature and uses. For -half-an-hour his quiet voice went on until the lengthening shadows -deepened. As they moved toward the cabin, the Breed passed them carrying -a pail brimming with milk, at which Andy gazed with longing eyes. - -“We always have a light lunch in the evening; won’t you stay?” begged -their host. - -Andy nodded his blond head vigorously in a silent signal to Donald for -acceptance, and acceptance was instantly forthcoming. - -The interior of the log cabin was rough in the extreme, but scrupulously -clean, with chairs, tables and beds that had never issued from a -furniture factory. The window-curtains were made of flour and sugar -sacks, on which the names of the manufacturers could still be -deciphered. On one wall were two bunks, set one above the other, on -which were spread heavy Hudson Bay blankets. No sheets were in evidence, -and the pillows were rough sacks stuffed with moss. The lower bunk -showed the feminine touch in its drapery of cheap blue print, a pathetic -attempt to brighten the coarse surroundings. Behind a small stove in the -corner hung an array of cooking utensils, spotlessly clean, but of -inferior quality. The one and only table, placed conveniently near the -stove, was as white as a ship’s deck from constant scouring. - -In direct antithesis to this seeming poverty, one end of the cabin was -literally filled with books. These richly-bound volumes looked -incongruous in conjunction with the rough tables, the uncomfortable -chairs and the rude beds. Donald’s eyes roved over the books, arranged -on the shelves standing and crosswise. Most of them were in English, but -many were in German, French and Italian; some in what appeared to be -Arabic, perhaps Sanskrit; and dozens were on botany, ornithology and -natural history. - -“A bookworm,” mused Donald, “a bookworm, and at the expense of his -personal comfort.” He felt ashamed of his unwarranted criticism of their -kind host. - -“I built this cabin all alone,” informed Wainwright proudly. - -Donald’s eyes rested on the speaker. Wainwright wore a shooting-jacket -and riding-breeches of excellent cut and of rare material, but now worn -threadbare and neatly patched. Donald knew that those rents had been -mended by a woman’s hands. Wainwright’s æsthetic face was impressive. -The marks of toil could not hide the delicacy of his thin hands with -their long, tapering fingers. The hands of a dreamer or poet, thought -Donald, not the hands to wield an axe. A quick admiration for this man’s -gameness filled his heart. “A good job,” he lied, as he surveyed the -sagging roof and bulging walls. - -“As good an authority as Hillier told me that it was excellent work,” -stated their host rather boastfully. - -“Bless old John’s heart!” thought Donald fervently. - -It was plain that Connie had anticipated their staying for lunch, as the -table was set—with tin plates and cups—for four. She drew a pan of hot -rolls from the tiny oven, and, her face a deep red from the heat and her -exertions, she sat down to the table, using a canned goods box as a -seat. Donald noticed that the two chairs had been given up to the -guests, and he arose at once to offer his seat. Andy, not to be outdone -in gallantry, successfully prevailed on Connie to make the change. - -“Bit shorter ever day,” he grinned as he sank to the box. At this Connie -lowered her head, her shoulders shaking with merriment. - -Wainwright’s manner was that of the owner of a baronial estate -entertaining guests under the most luxurious surroundings. His cheeks -were flushed, and he seemed filled with a boyish happiness. “It no doubt -will seem incomprehensible to you,” he remarked with a smile, “when I -say that, with the exception of John Hillier, you are the first white -men to break bread with me under this roof. We are quite a distance from -the Pemberton trail, and therefore come in contact with but few -travellers.” - -Little wonder, Donald thought, at their host’s nervous gaiety and the -child’s distress. What turn of Fate had caused this scholar to seek a -home in so lonely a spot? Misanthropes fled to the wilderness to escape -their fellow-men, but their welcome was proof that Wainwright was not of -that class. Why, then, had he voluntarily become an anchorite? Was he -obsessed by his hobby to such an extent that he had ostracized himself -to carry on the study of Nature? Was he a criminal hiding from justice? -Donald put the latter thought aside quickly. The Englishman’s delicate -features, with wide forehead, clear eyes, and tender, sensitive mouth, -were not the features of a man of criminal tendencies. At times, when in -repose, Wainwright’s face held a deep and brooding sadness. Some tragedy -had entered his life, Donald decided; some great calamity, that had -seared his very soul, had driven him to the life of a recluse. - -Connie strove to appear at ease, but without success. Hoping to relieve -her embarrassment, Donald spoke to her. Although she ventured an upward -glance, his voice seemed only to heighten her confusion. - -Mr. Wainwright resumed the discussion of the wild flowers of British -Columbia. With his head held sidewise, Andy listened intently to the -flow of conversation. When their host used Latin words Andy’s face would -assume a bewildered expression. With eyebrows raised inquiringly and a -humorous smile playing about his lips, he would turn to Connie and -slowly shake his head. - -This odd little man, with his blithesome manner and the whimsical gleam -in his blue eyes, was extremely amusing to Connie, and it was with -difficulty that she controlled her mirth. - -“I s’y,” observed Andy deferentially, “I’d like to learn about these -flowers and things; but, strike me ’andsome, the big words you use, and -some of them in the bohunk langwidge, puts more’n ’arf of it over me -bloomin’ ’ead.” - -Wainwright’s laugh had a pleasant ring. “I’ll do my best to help you, -Mr. Pettray. You’ll find books here,” pointing to the shelves, “that -will be of greater assistance.” - -The keen mountain air made itself felt through the poorly chinked walls -of the cabin, and the company moved their chairs nearer to the warmth of -the crackling fire. Donald offered their host a cigar, which was -accepted and smoked with evident relish. - -“Start me at the beginnin’; put me in the kindergarten, where my size -belongs,” chuckled Andy. - -Wainwright leaned back in the rough chair, puffing luxuriously at his -cigar, sending wreaths of fragrant smoke about his head. “I hardly know -where to begin,” he said meditatively. - -The room suddenly grew dark, and they heard the soft sighing of the wind -in the branches of the trees nearby. These signs were precursors of one -of the mountain showers so common in the coast Range of the Province. A -moment later there came the intermittent patter of big raindrops on the -roof, gradually increasing until it became a strumming roar that -debarred conversation. - -Connie lighted a candle, and using the neck of an empty vinegar bottle -as a candlestick, she placed it on the table, then took a seat outside -the radius of the dim light. - -The door opened to admit the Breed. As he entered a rush of sweet -rain-washed air, laden with the odour of fragrant buds, filled the room. -Shaking a shower of glistening raindrops from his wide sombrero, the -Breed hobbled silently on moccasined feet to a seat in the corner. - -The pelting rain dwindled to a drizzle, then stopped as abruptly as it -had begun. - -For an hour Wainwright gave a disquisition of the value of plant life to -mankind. Selecting two books from the shelves, he placed them on the -table before Andy. “You will find no difficulty in understanding these -volumes, as they are written for the novice. You will also find that -there is no pursuit more conducive to health and happiness than the -study of plants. It keeps one largely in the open air, and promotes pure -and helpful thinking. For this reason parents should lead the minds of -their children to the study of plant life.” - -During her father’s discourse Connie’s eyes scarcely left Donald’s face. -The Breed from the darkness of the corner noticed her rapt interest in -the tall stranger, and his dusky eyes glittered with jealousy. He limped -to the doorway, and, as he turned, Donald could not repress a start as -he caught the malignant look of hate which shot from the half-breed’s -glowing eyes. - -“Constance, dear, will you play for us?” asked her father. - -She moved obediently to her bunk, and from the floor beneath she drew -out a much worn violin case. - -The mellow radiance from the candle and the ever-changing lights from -the open draft of the small stove cast long, wavering shadows within the -cabin. From without came the wailing of the wind, the creaking of the -trees, and the steady drip of water from the eaves. - -As the bow touched the strings Connie forgot her shyness. The violin -drifted into a melody as light as a bird singing through the trees, now -joyous, anon sobbing in a deep rhythm of eerie sadness. As she played -her body swayed, almost imperceptibly, as a blossoming tree sways under -a soft spring breeze. - -As the last note ascended and faded on the throbbing air, Connie’s -embarrassment returned. At Donald’s words of praise a scarlet flush dyed -her cheeks. She returned the instrument to its case, and, with eyes -downcast, resumed her seat in the darkened corner. Wainwright’s eyes -held a look of deep tenderness as he thanked her in a voice that was -like a caress. - -As they said good-night Donald saw that their host’s face was again -shrouded in deep melancholy. The light of a waning moon threw ghost-like -shadows as they stumbled down the narrow trail through the aromatic -woods. Save for the drip of water, a brooding hush hung over the forest. -The trail was soft with needles, on which their feet made only a -softened beating. In the nave of huge conifers the solemnity of the -forest made speech seem almost irreverent. - -Near the centre of the tunnel-like trail, where the shadows deepened, -Donald stopped short with every sense alert. Without knowing why, he -suddenly felt a quick sense of danger. A dark form rose in front of them -and slunk into the woods. - -“The blinkin’ Indian,” whispered Andy. - -In passing the spot where the Breed had disappeared, Donald had an -uncanny feeling that the burning eyes of Connie’s devoted guardian were -fixed on him and he felt a crinkly chill creep up his spine. It was with -a feeling of relief that they emerged from the obscurity of the timber -and caught the friendly gleam of light from their cabin window on the -lake-shore far below. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - -The following day their work brought Donald and his companions to the -top of the falls near Connie’s fairy nest. The melting snows from above -had swelled the water until it filled the narrow gorge to the brim. - -As Donald viewed the thundering river he was impressed by the potential -power in the mighty surge of water that flung itself in a cascade of -foam to the rocks below. “Good place for a dam!” he shouted to Gillis, -as he pointed to the narrow canyon and then to the slanting walls that -formed a natural basin. - -That night, while Andy pursued his studies on flowers, Donald covered -several sheets of notepaper with drawings and figures. He became so -deeply engrossed in his work that he sat up long after the others had -gone to bed. At breakfast he placed the result of his night’s work near -Gillis’s plate. “Jack, I believe we could put in an electric mill that -would be successful,” he said earnestly. - -Gillis studied the papers carefully, then passed them to Douglas. “Might -be done,” he said non-committally. “I don’t know nothin’ ’bout -electricity; do you?” - -“I’ve had a little experience,” admitted Donald modestly. - -Douglas, who had been poring over the drawings, spoke emphatically. -“I’ll bet Dad would be interested in this. I’ve heard him say that all -mills would be electrically driven sometime. He’s up-to-date—always -willing to listen to new ideas.” - -“But old ‘Moss-back’ ain’t,” growled Gillis. - -“Who’s old ‘Moss-back’?” - -“One of the office men by name of Renwick. He’s one of them -narrow-’tween-the-eyes, psalm-singin’ old has-beens that sez ‘tut tut’ -every time he hears a logger say ‘damn.’ His health is poor, so they’re -goin’ to send him up here to take charge of this mill. Thanks be, I’m -goin’ to have charge in the woods, so I won’t have nothin’ to do with -him.” - -They discussed the matter during the day, and that evening they again -visited the falls. From the trapper Donald learned that the supply of -water was unfailing. Owing to the natural formation, the cost of -building the dam would be small. Donald’s friends became as enthusiastic -as himself. - -“We’ll be finished to-morrow night, Douglas,” announced Gillis that -evening. “If you and Donald want to, you can go to town and put this -proposition up to your father.” - -The lines of steel were creeping north slowly but surely. As they left -the cabin to start for the Coast, the first faint boom of a blast was -brought to their ears by the southern breeze. Ten miles south of the -lake they came to steel and rode to Squamish in the cab of a locomotive, -reaching Vancouver that night. - -Douglas informed Donald over the ’phone the next morning that his father -would give him a hearing at two o’clock that afternoon. - -As Donald thought of the impending meeting he experienced certain inward -qualms. He felt that Renwick would oppose him, and wondered if Robert -Rennie would consider him conceited and forward in suggesting such a -radical innovation. - -At the appointed hour Donald and Douglas entered the office of the R. C. -& L. Co. Robert Rennie greeted Donald with a friendly smile and motioned -to chairs near the desk. “You have some papers with you, I presume,” he -said. - -Donald placed the rough plans on the desk before him. For five minutes -Robert Rennie studied them quietly while Donald fidgeted. Without -comment, he leaned back in his chair for a moment, apparently in deep -thought. Presently he pressed a button at the side of his desk. - -“Send Renwick, Bolton and King here,” he said to the boy who answered -the bell. - -As the men entered the room Donald had no difficulty in recognizing -Renwick from Gillis’s description. Robert Rennie rose to introduce -Donald, then spoke in quick, flashing sentences, that went straight to -the heart of things, as he spread the plans on the table before them. - -As Donald had anticipated, Renwick, after a short scrutiny of the -papers, objected strenuously, his chief objection being the initial -cost, together with the fact that experience had demonstrated that only -small mills had proved a success when electrically driven. Bolton was of -the same opinion, but he admitted that if the supply of timber were -sufficient to keep the mill in operation for years, the initial cost -would be offset by the economy of operation. - -King, the company’s chief engineer, vouchsafed no opinion, but sat with -Donald’s plans before him, copying the figures in his note-book. - -Robert Rennie glanced at Donald expectantly. - -Donald spoke of the lessened cost of operation in an electrically-driven -mill by the reduction of the number of millwrights, oilers and helpers, -the lower insurance rates, the saving on line-shafting, belts and oil, -of the advantage in speed over a steam-mill, etc. As he warmed to the -subject he came to his feet and leaned over the desk. - -“As you gentlemen know, the greatest enemy of the mill-owner is fire. -With a steam-mill of the size you are to build, with donkey engines and -locomotives operated by steam, you will have a battery of smokestacks -that will be an hourly menace during the summer months in the dry air at -that altitude. Electrify your mill and donkey engines and you will -reduce the fire hazard by seventy-five per cent. I don’t ask you to -accept my opinion. I advise you to investigate thoroughly before -deciding. An electric mill with the enormous power available would be a -credit, not only to this company, but to the Province as well.” - -Robert Rennie’s brain functioned with a clear-cut precision. He would -listen to the advice of his experts with an attentive ear, and his -decision was usually made before the last one had ceased talking. - -While Donald was talking Robert Rennie sat forward in his chair with a -look of almost strained attention. As Donald finished he swung quickly -to his chief engineer. “King, to-morrow you go to Summit Lake. Furnish a -full report. If your figures correspond with McLean’s we will install an -electric plant. Bolton, get quotations at once on electrical equipment. -That’s all,” he finished tersely. - -He turned to the two young men as the door closed. “Beginning with the -first of next month, McLean, if you so wish, you will act as assistant -manager at the Summit Lake Mill. And you,” he turned to Douglas, “will -occupy a similar position at the Cheakamus plant.” He rang for his -stenographer, who entered at once. - -Donald muttered an embarrassed thanks, and as he passed through the door -he heard Robert Rennie’s voice in rapid dictation. - -They spent the remainder of the afternoon buying supplies from the list -which Andy had furnished them. There were numerous delicacies in the -items of foodstuffs that brought exclamations of surprise from Douglas. -“There is everything here to serve a banquet; even tablecloths and -napkins. What is the little beggar up to now, I wonder?” he said -laughingly. - -“His birthday,” explained Donald. “He is going to invite the Wainwrights -and John Hillier. And besides,” he added, “I think he wants to show the -old trapper that he can do a little fancy cooking himself.” - -Janet Rennie could not interpret the inner urge that prompted her to -arise at an early hour the next morning to drive her brother to the -wharf. It rather bewildered her—made her ashamed of herself that she -could not put Donald from her mind entirely. “Why can’t you forget him?” -she asked herself in protest for the thousandth time. As the boat pulled -away from the dock she waved an adieu and, with a troubled look in her -eyes, swung her car cityward. - -For two days after their return to the mountains, their little cabin was -a hive of industry. Andy banished his fellow-lodgers to the outdoors at -every opportunity while he performed mysterious rites over the small -stove. “I’ll show that juggling old pirate what a real meal is like,” he -chuckled to himself. - -Their guest arrived late in the afternoon and sat outside in the warm -sun while Andy busied himself behind the closed door. - -Old John’s face shone from the vigorous application of soap and towel. -His sole change in attire for the occasion was a clean buckskin coat -from the breast pocket of which protruded the corner of a red silk -handkerchief. - -Connie’s abundant golden hair had been carefully brushed, and hung over -her shoulders in glistening, billowy waves that reached to her -waist-line. She seated herself a short distance from the party and took -no part in the conversation. This was her first social affair and she -felt ill at ease. Donald’s repeated attempts to break her reserve were -answered in monosyllables. - -The door opened to disclose a remarkable figure framed in the entrance. -Andy stood before them in the most ridiculous make-up of a butler. An -old black coat of Gillis’s, cut off at the sides to form a -“claw-hammer,” hung loosely over his narrow shoulders; side-whiskers of -tree moss were stuck to his cheeks, and his face was as stolid as a -graven image. - -“Dinner is now being served in the main dining-’all, me lord,” he -intoned slowly. - -They applauded Andy’s effort heartily, and as they laughingly entered -the cabin a scene met their eyes that was remarkably incongruous amid -such drab surroundings. - -A snow-white cloth covered the rough board table. A huge turkey, with -bulging breast browned to a crispness, graced the centre of the board. -Oysters in the shell, celery, salads, several kinds of vegetables, pies, -cookies and fancy cheeses were in tempting abundance; and in a place of -honour near the turkey reposed Andy’s birthday cake, its frosted surface -covered with tiny candles. - -Connie’s blue eyes opened wide with wonder. “Oh, Dad!” she cried -joyously, “it’s just like stories, isn’t it?” - -John tossed his hat to the floor in the corner. “You can deliver the -goods, ol’ timer, sure enough,” he commended in a tone of respect. - -It was an odd party that gathered in the log hut in the wilderness to -celebrate Andy’s birthday—a wilderness whose silence was soon to be -broken by the crash of trees and the clang of steel. A late blast, so -near that the cabin trembled, caused the old trapper to shiver slightly. - -“Trains will soon be running through your backyard, John,” observed -Douglas. - -The old man shook his head sadly. “Yes,” he concurred, “an’ I’ll hev’ to -be hittin’ the trail agin before long.” - -Andy’s banquet proceeded merrily, and when the last course was finished -Donald took a bundle from the shelf and placed it in Connie’s hands. -“Something I brought from town for you,” he smiled. - -Connie’s colour heightened. “For me?” she asked incredulously. - -“Yes, some reading matter.” - -“Thank you,” she murmured softly, as her quick fingers unwrapped the -package. She cried aloud with delight as half a dozen novels and as many -magazines were disclosed to view. - -“And here, Andy, is a present for you,” said Donald as he dragged a box -from the corner; “something to assist in passing away the time -pleasantly.” - -Andy’s joy knew no bounds when, opening the box, a superb Victrola was -disclosed to view. - -Suddenly the sweet strains of a full orchestra playing the “Barcarolle” -filled the room. Connie was enraptured. She stood with bowed head and -closed eyes, her hands pressed to her throbbing breast, as the music -stirred her emotional soul to its depths. She sighed deeply and her -cheeks were wet with tears as she moved to the machine when the music -ceased. - -They all sang the chorus to the “Old Oaken Bucket,” “Suwannee River” and -“Annie Laurie.” Connie’s embarrassment had vanished and her clear voice -rang in sweet harmony with the deeper tones of the men. - -At the conclusion of “Home Sweet Home,” old John Hillier blew his nose -vigorously and surreptitiously dabbed the big red handkerchief to his -eyes. - -The words of “A Dream,” sung in an impassioned tenor voice, came with -surprising distinctness: - - “I dreamed thou wert living, my darling, my darling, - I dreamed that I pressed thee once more to my breast. - Thy soft perfumed tresses and gentle caresses - Thrilled me and stilled me and lulled me to rest.” - -Donald saw that Wainwright was deeply moved. His throat was working -convulsively, and he seemed to have difficulty in lighting his pipe. His -shaking hands were cupped over his pipe-bowl in an attempt to hide his -emotion. His face was pale and tears brimmed his clear grey eyes. - -“Come on, John, let’s ’it up a jig!” cried Andy as he capered across the -room and pulled the trapper to his feet. To the lilt of the “Irish -Washerwoman” the odd pair smacked the floor with their feet, whirled in -giddy circles, and whooped like wild men. They linked arms and spun like -a top until John’s moccasined foot trod on Andy’s long coat and brought -them to the floor in a heap. - -The comedy helped Wainwright to regain his composure, and sent Connie -into screams of happy laughter. - -“I’ve had a most wonderful evening, Andy,” said Connie gratefully as -they were leaving. “The most wonderful in my life,” she added softly. - -“By the way, Mr. Pettray,” spoke Mr. Wainwright from the doorway, “how -are you progressing with your studies?” - -“Not ’arf bad,” answered Andy. “I ’ave learned about the sepals, calyx, -corolla, pistil, filament, anther, pollen, style and stigma.” As he -rattled off these words he glanced at Gillis and Douglas. He had been -longing for this chance to air his newly-acquired knowledge. - -“Fine,” complimented Wainwright smilingly. “You are having no -difficulty, then?” - -Andy wrinkled his brows. “I ’ave found it a bit difficult,” he began -importantly; “just a bit, you know, to classify the flowers as to -whether they are oxillary, confulate, peduncular, polyandrous, -gynandrous, zygomorphic——” - -“Holy mackerel!” roared Gillis, as he clapped his hands over his ears. -“Stop him, somebody!” - -Douglas caught Andy by the coat-tail and dragged him from the door. -Connie’s cheerful laughter drifted back to them through the darkness. - -The Breed crossed the outer edge of light thrown from the doorway and -limped to the trail. Wherever Connie went her argus-eyed guardian -flitted in the background. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - -In the construction of the railroad to Summit Lake the speed and -efficiency of the R. C. & L. Co’s organization excelled any past effort. - -The land-clearing outfit arrived the evening after Andy’s party and -began work on that portion of the right-of-way that skirted the west -shore of the lake. Like a swath of destruction, the ground became -covered with the litter and wreckage of blasted trees—noble trees that -had stood for centuries like silent sentinels guarding the limpid blue -lake lapping gently at their feet. - -For two days Connie had been no nearer than the bluff. Seated astride -her horse, she now gazed in startled awe on the invasion of her loved -valley. On the third day, drawn by a horrible fascination, she ventured -timidly into the valley and watched with wide eyes the advance of the -pygmy army, who, with such tiny tools as the axe and saw, crashed to -earth mammoth trees that seemed as enduring as the mountains on which -they stood. - -The steam-shovel roared and crashed in the distance as it ploughed deep -gashes in the green hillside, men shouted, heavy wagons banged over the -rough road, and fearful blasts shook the air. Through all this tumult -the men worked in a frenzy of haste. - -A giant fir—a veritable king of the forest, towering in regal glory -high above its mates—stood near the water’s edge. Around the massive -bole of this tree Connie had played since her earliest recollection. She -had endowed this half-god with a living personality, to whom she had -confided all her childish fancies and aspirations. The corrugated bark -bore numerous bits of nursery rhymes, and her name was etched deep with -a sharp knife in several places. With a lump in her throat she saw the -“fallers” move to the foot of this great tree and gaze aloft with -appraising eyes. Then sinewy arms sent shining axes through the thick -bark to form the “scarf,” which to Connie appeared as a gaping white -wound on the dark grey trunk. - -As the cross-cut saw with its rasping clang ate its way slowly through -the tough fibre of the great titan, Connie made inarticulate sounds in -her throat and for a moment covered her eyes. As the wedge was applied, -a great shudder passed through the tree. Connie held her breath. The -tower of dark branches at the top nodded as if in fond farewell. There -was a pause, then with a rending and tearing crash it fell to earth with -a thunder of sound that filled the valley with a wild tumult of echoes. -A whistle blew shrilly, and the men picked up their coats and walked -toward their camp. - -For a short space Connie stood motionless. Then, with a last long look -at the fallen monarch, she sighed deeply and turned to the trail. - -That night at dusk she came again. Donald came upon her as she crouched, -a forlorn figure, by the prostrate tree. Pointing to her fallen friend, -whose top was torn and splintered, she told Donald in halting sentences -of the day’s disaster. As he noted the grave face and trembling lips, he -wondered at the depth of feeling in one so young. His soft words of -sympathy brought unseen tears to her eyes, and she dared not trust her -voice in answer. He spoke to her cheerily on other subjects, but could -not shake her melancholy mood. - -Even the night calm was ravaged by the thunder of blasts. A lurid wall -of flame shot high in the air as a rocky portion of the shoreline was -rent asunder, and huge boulders plunged into the calm lake, sending up -pyramids of water to break in noisy waves on the shore. - -Donald enjoyed the unusual experience of witnessing the construction of -a railroad, but he understood now why the old trapper had wagged his -grey head sadly when he heard the clamour of striving men and machinery -creeping up from the south. - -The night work had ceased, and a welcome silence settled over the -shattered forest. Lambent stars sparkled and twinkled in the high, clear -air, with colours that changed from orange to blue and back again. The -eastern sky brightened, the glow gradually spread through the heavens, -then the moon came slowly over the towering snow-peaks, flooding the -valley with light. The fallen tree took on a ghost-like appearance in -the moon’s radiance. - -Then an uncanny thing happened. Suddenly from a clear sky, without a -moment’s warning, a dark and ominous cloud obscured the moon’s light. -Connie came quickly to her feet and gazed with startled eyes at this -strange phenomenon. The air took on a sudden chill. A quick, strong wind -swept up the hill. From the swaying tree-tops there came a moaning like -a wailing requiem for the dead—so much like the human voice that Donald -shivered. - -To Donald the darkening moon and the sighing trees were a coincidence, -but to this child of nature, who had been reared in loneliness where -rivers roared and mountains loomed, and who understood so intimately the -wild things of the forest, it was a manifestation of sorrow by the God -of Nature. With her breast heaving tumultuously, she leaned against the -mammoth tree and pressed her cheek to its rough bark. “I’m sorry! I’m -sorry!” she whispered brokenly. - -As if in answer to her words of compassion, the veil suddenly lifted -from the moon and the wind ceased. Donald shook himself. “Rather weird,” -he said, with a quick, nervous laugh. He turned to find that he was -alone. - - * * * * * - -Events moved swiftly that week. - -King’s report was favourable to Donald’s plan, and word came that -electrical equipment for the Summit Mill had been ordered. - -At Donald’s invitation Connie came to the station to witness the arrival -of the first train. As the awesome black monster, with whistle screaming -and bell clanging, roared through the rock cut at the south end of the -lake and bore down upon them, Connie gasped in wonder. As the train came -to a hissing stop she shrank against the walls of the building, a -startled look in her eyes. She flushed at the men’s hearty laughter. - -The train was loaded with working-men, who with their bundles of -blankets overflowed the small platform. A kitchen-car and a sleeping-car -were shunted to the side-track which would be their home until the -erection of the big dining-hall. - -Donald was given charge of constructing the dam, Gillis started the -lumbering operations, while Douglas moved to the Cheakamus Mill. Andy -was to be boss of the kitchen staff, and was kept busy overseeing the -work of interior construction. - -A portable mill was fast at work turning out timbers for the big plant, -and carpenters and millwrights worked night and day. An American expert -came with the machinery to superintend the installation. - -With the new task set for him there descended on Donald a deep sense of -responsibility. Unlike the others, he worked no regular hours. A feeling -of gratitude toward Robert Rennie for the confidence displayed in him -kept him at top speed; his energy and resource seemed inexhaustible. -From the time his alarm clock—that harsh, brutal little destroyer of -sleep—shrilled its call at daylight until darkness filled the valley, -he stuck to his task. - -One week earlier than the time allotted he reported the dam as finished. - - * * * * * - -Robert Rennie came with Renwick and King for a short trip of inspection, -and as he was leaving he spoke a kindly word in commendation of Donald’s -work. - -The Summit Mill was to be modern in every respect, lighted with -electricity and provided with modern plumbing and hot shower-baths. The -white steel beds of the dormitory were clothed in clean white sheets and -pillow-cases. There was no analogy in this perfection to the ordinary -logging-camp. - -For hours Donald followed the expert through the mill, while the latter -explained and tested the different motors. - -Once a week Robert Rennie came to the mill, taking a keen interest in -all phases of its construction, and invariably he went away with a -pleased smile on his face. - -“Never saw the old man so worked up,” commented Gillis. “Guess he’d like -to come up here and run her himself.” - -Renwick was still sceptical. For no apparent reason he had taken a -dislike to Donald. “It’s just ’cause you and I are such good friends,” -explained Gillis. “Me and him get on like a couple of strange -bull-dogs.” - -When the huge three-storied mill, with its dry kiln, lumber skids, -conveyor shed and railroad spurs, was ready for operation, and each -machine had been tested, Robert Rennie arrived with other officials of -the Company. Next morning Donald’s heart thumped as the mill’s big -whistle sent out its first call to work and the men filed eagerly to -their posts. - -The logs were sprayed with huge water-jets as they came up the -chain-haul to clean them of gravel and débris. The electric “nigger” -spun them about and threw them into place with a thud that shook the -mill. Then in a wild crescendo of sound there rose the harsh chorus of -saws: the singing howl of the cut-off, the strident, slurring sound of -the gang-saws, and the staccato snarl of the trimmer. - -Smiling and rubbing his hands, Robert Rennie walked through the mill. -“Running like a greased pig,” shouted Gillis above the clamour. The -owner of the R. C. & L. Co. so far forgot his decorum as to slap the -astonished Gillis heartily on the back. - -Donald noticed an ever-increasing irritability on the part of the -logging foreman during the next week. The ertswhile jocular Gillis -became sulky and morose. Donald got an inkling as to the cause of his -friend’s gloom when he heard Gillis in conversation with Andy. - -“What the ’ell’s the matter, you big lunkus? You’re like a bear with a -sore foot,” complained Andy. - -“If my gang don’t get here pretty soon, and I have to put up with this -crowd of bohunks much longer, I won’t be fit to live with,” growled -Gillis. - -Gillis’s gang of “redshirts” were known the length and breadth of -British Columbia. Employers bid high for their services, but for many -years they had stuck loyally with Gillis and the R. C. & L. Co. At -present they were employed by the Company in one of their camps up the -coast, but, at Gillis’s earnest request, Robert Rennie had promised to -send them to Summit Lake. - -Gillis’s “redshirts” had the well-earned reputation of being the wildest -crew of lumber-jacks west of the Rockies. “They’re wild, all right,” -Gillis had admitted; “a swearin’, drinkin’, fightin’ gang of roughnecks. -But holy mackerel! How them boys can log!” - -That night Gillis confided his troubles to Donald. “I don’t know what in -tarnation’s to become of loggin’ in years to come if things keep on as -they are now,” he began in a despondent tone. “It used to be that when -you sent down town for loggers you got loggers. But now,” with a gesture -of disgust, “you git a lot of silk-stockin’d, mandolin-playin’, -gum-chewin’, smooth-haired guys, or else a bunch of snuff-chewin’, -garlic-smellin’, macaroni-eatin’ bohunks, whose names sound like a war -in Central Europe.” - -Sighing reminiscently, he continued: “I often wonder if it’s because I’m -gittin’ old; but, you know, when I look back on the days, when we logged -with bull teams, it seems to me that the men at that time _liked_ to -work. I can still see the old timers in their whiskers, and their big -black hats and flannel shirts, as they sailed out on the old _Comox_ or -the _Cassiar_.” He shook his head sadly. “Ah! there was only one kind of -logger in them days.” - -Seeing that Donald was interested, he went on: “Yes, there’s two kinds -of loggers nowadays, Donnie, the ‘single-breasted’ and the -‘double-breasted.’ And there’s a hell of a lot of difference between the -two. The ‘single-breasted’ logger is a man that don’t speak anythin’ but -English, an’ he don’t belong to the ‘I won’t works’ neither. He knows -loggin’ from A to Z; don’t mind sleepin’ in a bunk, and always carries -his own blankets. If he borrows a ten-spot off you, as soon as he earns -it he comes lookin’ for you, slips you the money, grabs you by the hand, -and lookin’ you straight in the eye, says: ‘Thanks, friend, come and -have a drink.’ At night, when he is through work, he’ll smoke his pipe, -grind his axe, talk about the next day’s work with the boss, read the -paper and go to bed. In the mornin’ he’ll swallow a big load of prunes -and ham and eggs and go to work a-singin’. - -“But this ‘double-breaster’,” he snorted disgustedly, “he’s a mixture of -a taxi-driver, bartender and soap-box orator, and just because he lives -in B.C., he thinks he is a logger. He knows the difference between a -fallin’ saw and a bucket’s saw, and that just about lets him out. If he -borrows a dollar off you, the minute the bill slips out of your hand you -can see a look in his eye that says, ‘You’re hooked.’ And the devil of -it is that he won’t cross to the other side of the street when he sees -you comin’, but he’ll walk right up to you a-smilin’ and ask you for -another buck. - -“When he gets through at night he cleans his finger-nails and picks on a -mandolin while he tells how many Janes is stuck on him in Vancouver; -gives an opinion that the shower-bath was not hot enough, and how we -sufferin’ workers should rise against the capitalists. He’ll kick at the -breakfast table because there is only oranges and no grape-fruit. When -he goes in the woods he’ll throw a few tools away so’s to help the cause -of the workers. - -“Workers!” he exploded, as he came to his feet and walked the floor, -“we’ve got too many ‘double-breasteds’ and ‘hunks’ in this camp right -now, Donnie. A hunk will work if you show him a pick and shovel, but -these other guys are trouble-breeders. Did you see that big brute that -came in to-day?” - -Donald remembered seeing an enormous man with narrow, piggish eyes, in -the crowd of men sent by the employment agency. - -“That’s ol’ Hand. He’s a bad egg. I s’pose I’d ought to fire him, but -he’s a good logger, and they are mighty scarce ’round these diggin’s.” -He yawned sleepily. “Got to fix a ‘spar-tree’ for a ‘high-lead’ -to-morrow, so I better hit the hay.” - -Preparing the “spar-tree” for “high-lead,” or “sky-line” rigging, is the -most spectacular and thrilling performance in the logging industry. A -standing tree is trimmed of top and branches, then strengthened with -guys. With the pull coming from this altitude, the advantage over the -straight ground pull is enormous as logs are lifted high in air over all -impedimenta. The men who do this hazardous work are known as -“high-riggers.” - -Next morning, a man with a short-handled axe, wearing a wide belt to -pass around the treetrunk, and a pair of lineman’s spurs, slowly climbed -a big fir. As he ascended he trimmed the trunk clear of limbs. Quite a -crowd gathered, among them the trapper, with his rifle on his arm. - -“I ain’t got a ‘high-rigger’ in the outfit,” growled Gillis. “This -feller agreed to trim her, but he says he never chopped the top off one, -so I guess we’ll dynamite her.” - -The explosive, with a detonating cap, was tied around the top of the -tree and wires strung to the ground. For some reason the batteries would -not act, and Gillis chafed under the delay. - -“I kin set her off for ye,” said the old trapper. - -Gillis turned to him. “How?” - -The trapper tapped his gun. “Put a piece of paper on the cap so’ I kin -see her and I’ll pop it.” - -“That’s a new one on me,” laughed Gillis. - -He sent the man aloft to place a square piece of pasteboard on the cap. -The men moved back from the foot of the tree, and Gillis gave the signal -that all was clear. The old man sprang briskly to the top of a stump, -tipped his big hat to the back of his head, and raised his rifle slowly. -For an instant the long barrel wavered slightly, then steadied. The -report of the rifle was drowned by a splintering crash. The -heavily-branched top lifted, then came hurtling through the air to -strike the ground a mass of wreckage. For a moment the big spar swayed -drunkenly from the shock, then stood stark and rigid. Deprived of its -fronds of green, it appeared a ghastly relic of its former self. - -That afternoon, as they waited the arrival of the train, Gillis talked -again of his “redshirts.” “White men, every one of them,” he declared -proudly, “and every one of them with a nickname that is known all over -the Coast. Ye just ought to see my two ‘high-riggers,’ ‘Hoop-la’ -McKenzie and ‘Blackie’ Anderson. ‘Blackie’ is as black as an Indian, and -‘Hoop-la’ got his name from standing on the top of a spar-tree, after he -cuts her off, wavin’ his hat and yellin’ ‘Hoop-la’. - -“I got five Jack McDonalds in the gang. Their names are ‘Sly’ Jack, -‘Fightin’ Jack, ‘Check-Book’ Jack, ‘Johnnie-On-The-Spot,’ and ‘Crazy’ -Jack. An’ if they had all bin named ‘Crazy’ Jack it wouldn’t bin no -mistake,” he finished with a laugh. - -The train rumbled to the station and the usual crowd of workers came -pouring from the cars, while a crowd stood waiting to board the train. -It was the same every day—men coming and men going. - -Gillis uttered the glad cry, “Here they are!” - -A big, ostentatious man, with broad shoulders and narrow hips, stepped -to the platform. His dress was truly colourful and striking—wide hat, -high boots, a vivid scarlet shirt, with a cloth belt of the same bright -hue tied at the side, the ends dangling loosely. - -“Get out of the way, hunkies, and make room for a logger!” he roared, as -he elbowed his way through a crowd of scattering foreigners behind him, -a line of men clad in the same brilliant attire. - -“Hello, Hoop-la! you ornery ol’ skate!” bellowed Gillis. - -The big man turned. “Here he is fellers!” he shouted. - -In a moment Gillis was surrounded by this picturesque crew, howling -tumultuous greetings. - -“Hello, ol’ hoss!” - -“Hello, you son-of-a-gun!” - -“How the hell are ye?” - -Donald was subjected to crushing hand-clasps as he was introduced to -each and every one of this crowd of husky loggers. - -As Donald studied them he did not wonder at Gillis’s pride in these men. -With the exception of Blackie, there was none under six feet in height, -and they carried themselves with a loose swing that was almost a -swagger. Many of them were well past middle age, some quite grey about -the temples. They were all filled with the sparkling health of the great -outdoors, their skins the colour of mahogany. - -“Where’s the bunk-house?” asked Blackie. - -“We don’t call them bunk-houses any more, we have dormitories,” -corrected Gillis as he nudged Donald slyly. - -“A what?” questioned the puzzled Blackie. - -“Dormitories,” repeated Gillis. - -Blackie glowered at his boss. “What are you runnin’, a ladies’ -seminary?” he questioned sarcastically. - -“And another thing, you don’t need your blankets. Company furnishes -’em,” informed Gillis. - -“Well, I’ll tell you one thing right now,” declared ‘Crazy’ Jack, “I -ain’t goin’ to sleep in a pair of blankets that forty smelly bohunks has -wrapped themselves in. What kind of a joint you brought us to, Jack?” - -“What I want to tell you fellers,” said Gillis, ignoring ‘Crazy’ Jack’s -remarks, “is this: I want you to stay all summer. None of this running -to town to get your teeth fixed, or a new suit, see the ball game, or to -meet your sister who’s comin’ out from the East, and all that old bunk. -We got more orders——” - -“Can that chatter,” interrupted ‘Fighting’ Jack with a wide grin. “We’re -all goin’ to town on Dominion Day, ain’t we, boys?” - -“You bet!” they roared as one. - -Gillis shrugged his shoulders resignedly. “Thought you fellers was -gettin’ old enough to have a little sense,” he said. - -“Too much kick in us yet, Jack,” demurred Blackie. - -“Where is this door-mee-tory, Jack?” asked Hoop-la. - -Gillis pointed to the long building, and the boisterous crowd moved -noisily up the hill. The men dropped their packs to the ground outside -the door, and, shouldering each other, peered in. The long rows of white -beds stood immaculate against the walls, and two white-coated flunkeys -were sweeping the glossy varnished floor. - -“This ain’t the right place,” growled Hoop-la, “this is the hospital. -They must expect to kill about a hundred men every day. Hi! Jack! Come -here. Where’s the bunk-room?” he asked as Gillis approached. - -“That’s it.” - -“That!” - -“Sure.” - -“Say! what you givin’ us? I wouldn’t dare sit down on one of them beds; -’fraid of dirty’n it.” - -The others gathered round. - -“Jack, can we put up a log shack for ourselves?” asked Blackie. - -“You sure can,” responded Gillis tolerantly. - -“All right, we’ll sleep in this morgue ’till we get a decent place,” -said Blackie. - -He poked his head in the door just as Andy, clad in white coat, entered -by the rear. - -“Say, nurse,” shouted Blackie, “get ready for twenty-two cases of -delirium tremens!” - -“That’s easy,” was Andy’s quick retort; “I’ve ’ad more than that by -myself.” His eyebrows lifted in quick surprise as he saw the brilliant -shirts. - -“When does the blinkin’ circus start?” he grinned. - -That evening in their explorations Blackie and Hoop-la found the log -shack on the lake-shore. - -“Say, Jack, can me and Hoop-la have that cabin down there?” - -“You bet you can, Blackie. You and Hoop-la can have anythin’ round -here,” replied Gillis heartily. - -Blackie had turned to go, but on hearing this broad statement he stopped -quickly. “Say, Jack, me and Hoop-la came away from Vancouver owin’ a -little money—an’ I promised to send——” - -“Ye’ve got me when the gittin’ is good,” interrupted Gillis. “How much -do you want?” - -“Let me see,” reflected Blackie, “I owe for my room in town; and I owe -at Old Joe’s, and—and——” - -“How much? Spit it out, I can stand the shock,” commanded Gillis. - -“’Bout a hundred, Jack.” - -“Whew!” whistled Gillis as he reached for his purse. - -With Donald’s assistance the hundred dollars was found and Blackie ran -joyously down the hill. - -“Little devil!” smiled Gillis as he gazed after him. “Good-hearted a -feller as ever lived,” he added feelingly, “but he can’t take one drink -without goin’ crazy.” - -The “redshirts” had been up in the woods looking over the logging -operations, and they now came swinging down the hill, their bright -shirts flashing in the sun. They were loggers, “every inch of them,” as -Gillis had said. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - -Andy’s study of nature proved to be no idle whim, and Gillis had long -since ceased teasing him. All his leisure moments were spent in scouring -the hills and meadows for specimens, and regularly every Sunday -afternoon he ascended the hill to Wainwright’s cabin with his collection -for the learned Englishman’s inspection. - -On this afternoon, Wainwright, being in one of his solitary moods, had -wandered up the mountain, and Andy found Connie busily engaged in -spading the earth in search of worms, which she tossed to the swarm of -birds that hopped on the ground and filled the air about her. - -Scolding the bold camp-robbers that ventured dangerously near the shovel -blade, she scattered the soil, then laughed joyously as the birds with a -great flutter of wings pounced on the fat worms. - -Andy threw himself luxuriously on the green sward. This beautiful spot -was a diversion from the hot kitchen, a veritable haven of rest. The -gentle murmur of the bees among the flowers, the soft, subdued -twittering of the birds, the rustle of the leaves, and the laughing of -the water, all combined to make one sweet monotone of sound that lulled -him into drowsiness. - -Connie sat down near him, the birds all about her. - -“’Ow do you get them so tame, Connie?” - -“They know that I love them,” she replied simply. - -“I can’t get anything but the camp-robbers to come near me,” said Andy. - -“It takes time and patience, Andy. As soon as the birds are assured that -you mean them no harm, they are eager to be your friends. You’ll -remember, Dad told you that without plants man could not live,” she went -on. “It is equally true that if all the birds should perish, man would -soon follow. And, still more wonderful, if we had no insects man could -not survive.” - -Andy came to a sitting posture. “Do you mean to s’y that we would die if -we ’ad no insects?” he asked incredulously. - -“Surely, Andy, you haven’t forgotten what Dad told you last Sunday about -the insects carrying the pollen from flower to flower,” reproved Connie. - -“I ’ave it now!” cried Andy, after a few moments of reflection. “If we -’ad no insects to carry the pollen the plants couldn’t live. And if the -birds were all gone ther’d be so many insects that they’d eat up every -blinkin’ thing the farmers raised, and we’d starve to death.” - -Connie nodded. - -“Strike me ’andsome if it ain’t wonderful!” said Andy in an awed voice. - -Connie explained very simply to Andy the benefits derived by mankind -from the various birds. Her discourse proved so interesting to him that -he paid little heed to the time until the sun, disappearing behind the -trees, warned him that it was time to return to his duties. Regretfully -he arose and turned to the trail, Connie walking by his side. A -goldfinch, rich in his summer plumage of bright yellow, black and white, -hung swaying like a dainty sprite on a slender stem near the path. From -its bulging little throat came a rippling, bubbling song like a -miniature torrent of ecstasy. - -“Dear, dear, dearie,” he called sweetly. - -“Oh, you darling!” cried Connie as she clasped her hands in rapture. -“I’ve been trying to find their nest for several days, Andy, but the -little dears have hidden it too well.” - -She made soft clucking sounds as she moved nearer to the beautiful bird. -The goldfinch fluttered close to her side to perch like a yellow flower -on the top of a tall thistle, perked its pretty head and looked up at -her with bright shining eyes. - -“Dear, dear, dearie,” it sang again, then flew with characteristic wavy -motion to a clump of willows, twittering sweetly as if calling Connie to -follow. - -“I ’ave to ’urry ’ome,” said Andy as he looked at his watch. He glanced -back at a turn in the trail to see Connie pressing the willows gently -aside in her search for the goldfinch’s nest. - -“Strike me pink! but she is a wonderful girl,” soliloquized Andy. “The -’andsomest and the brainiest kid I ever saw in me life. If I was thirty -years younger, two feet ’igher, and ’arf decent to look at, I’d fall -’ead over ’eels in love with ’er.” - -He smiled broadly at these ridiculous reflections, but there was a -tender light in his bright blue eyes. A swarthy foreign labourer, moving -aimlessly up the trail, merely grunted in reply to Andy’s cheerful -salutation. - -“One of Gillis’s beloved bohunks,” chuckled Andy. - -A moment later he stopped suddenly. Connie was up there alone. For a -short interval he hesitated, then resumed his downward journey. “She’d -shoot ’is blinkin’ ’ead off if ’e tried to ’arm ’er,” he decided. - -Just then he heard Connie’s voice raised in a quick cry of anger. Andy -jumped as though subjected to a galvanic shock. He turned in mid-air and -before he struck the ground his short legs were going through the motion -of running. The picture of Connie struggling in the arms of the burly -foreigner made him fairly fly. - -“I’m coming, Connie!” he shouted as he tore up the hill. - -Donald and Gillis, sitting near the bluff enjoying a smoke came to their -feet as they heard a faint shout from above. For an interval they -listened intently, but hearing no further sound they resumed their -seats. Andy slackened his pace as he came to the clearing and saw that -Connie was unharmed. She was standing near the labourer with her head -bowed over an object held in her hand. - -“What’s wrong, Connie?” panted Andy. - -“Andy, look!” she choked, “it’s the mother bird. I had just found her -nest—here it is.” She parted the bushes to disclose a compact, cosy, -cup-like structure of fine grass and moss placed in a crotch of the -tree. In the centre lay four downy fledglings whose tiny mouths gaped -wide to receive the expected bit of food from the mother’s bill. “Oh, -Andy, if she dies the little ones won’t live,” said Connie in a voice -filled with pity. - -Andy took the wounded bird from her hand. “’Ow did it ’appen, Connie?” -he asked tenderly. - -Connie was as open and unaffected as the wild birds of the forest. She -was as capable of hating as she was of loving. Her eyes were laughing -eyes, and the soul that looked out of them a merry soul, but she had a -temper, and under sufficient provocation her blue eyes could take on a -dangerous glow. - -She now turned like an enraged lioness on the foreigner. “He killed it -with a stick!” she cried furiously. “You brute, you cowardly -brute. . . .” In her rage her voice became incoherent. With hands -clenched and with breath coming in short gasps, she moved nearer to the -object of her hatred. In her hysterical anger her voice rose almost to a -scream. - -“You cur, if I were a man I’d—I’d lick you!” - -The cry came to Donald’s ears, and he was off up the trail like a deer. - -“Something wrong, Jack!” he shouted. - -“Go ahead, I’ll follow,” responded Gillis. - -Andy looked down on the mother goldfinch as it lay in his hand. He felt -the quick throbbing of its heart grow fainter and fainter. One wing was -broken and its white breast was stained with blood. The bird’s head -drooped lower, and a film settled over its bright eyes. The beautiful -wings stretched rigidly, and it gasped convulsively, sending a tiny -stain of crimson from its mouth that felt warm on his palm. - -Andy’s face became colourless. His hand shook violently as he placed the -dead bird tenderly on the ground. “Connie dear,” he said, in a voice -that trembled, “I ain’t a whole man, but ’ere’s where you see ’arf a man -goin’ into battle to give all he’s got.” - -He removed his coat and threw it from him. Through a rage-mist Andy saw -the grinning foreigner throw up his arms in an absurdly unscientific -posture of defence. Like a mad cat, Andy launched himself straight at -his husky opponent. The grin was wiped from the big man’s face by Andy’s -compact fist, as it smacked resonantly on the end of his thick nose with -a snap like that of a whip, and with a skilled force that brought blood. - -Andy’s years of training boxers now stood him in good stead. He well -knew that a small man would stand little chance in long range fighting, -and he kept well inside the larger man’s wild swings. With his blond -head tucked against his adversary’s body, his fists worked like pistons; -he kept sending short jolts to the body that brought heavy grunts every -time they landed. - -Connie was delirious with excitement. - -“Hit him, Andy! Hit him! Good! Good!” - -And then she groaned as the big man’s hand found Andy’s throat and flung -him to the ground. Little Andy was up immediately, but stepped into a -swinging fist that caught him over the eye and sent him sprawling. -Undaunted, he came to his feet, waited warily for an opening, and again -sprang under the big man’s guard. - -Andy’s fist shot up in a ripping upper-cut that was judged to a nicety, -catching his opponent on the point of his chin with force enough to send -him rocking on his heels, and before he could recover himself the same -fist, accompanied by its mate, beat a tattoo on his solar plexus. - -In desperation the bewildered man wound his arms about the little -Australian and lifted him high in air. Like a game bulldog Andy hung on. -Though his feet were off the ground, he clung to the big man’s body like -a leech. - -Again the big hands felt for Andy’s throat, and he was flung six feet to -strike with a thump that shook every bone in his body. Connie cried out -in fear as he narrowly avoided a brutal blow aimed at his head. - -Andy’s sense of British fair play had received a rude shock. “As -Methusalem said,” he panted, as he came to his feet, “when in Bohunkia -do as the Bohunks do.” - -“Take that, Spaghetti!” he shouted, as he kicked the foreigner viciously -on the shin. While the latter leaned over in pain, Andy shot a -well-directed upper-cut to his face. The big man sat down, a dazed look -in his eyes. - -Breathless, Donald arrived on the scene, with Gillis puffing in the -rear. - -Breathing heavily, Andy’s adversary came to his feet, picked up his hat, -and with arms wound about his head beat a hasty retreat. Andy was after -him like a hornet, sending stinging blows through his vulnerable guard. -Donald and Gillis stood with mouths agape to see Andy administering a -sound thrashing to a man twice his size. Right to the edge of the woods -he relentlessly pursued his fleeing enemy. - -Andy’s head was held at its usual cocky angle, and he assumed a swagger -as he retraced his steps, but his short legs wobbled and he sank dizzily -to a stump. - -“I brought ’is blinkin’ meat-’ouse down, Connie,” he gasped. - -“Oh, Andy, you’re a darling!” she cried, throwing her arms impulsively -around the little man’s neck, and touching her lips to his cheek. - -Andy’s florid face took on a deeper magenta, and he blinked hard to hide -certain signs of emotion. He afterwards admitted to Donald that he was -no “sweet sixteen,” and that it was the first time that he had ever been -kissed in his “bloomin’” life. - -Connie wet her handkerchief in the cold water of the creek and bathed -his face with tender care. - -She showed Donald and Gillis the nest with the motherless birds, doomed -to die a premature death by this act of wanton cruelty, and pointed to -the tiny bird on the ground, for whose untimely end Andy had taken a -well deserved and summary vengeance. Connie choked as the lovely male -bird flew to a stalk of goldenrod near its dead mate and sent out its -throaty warble. - -“Dear, dear, dearie,” sang the goldfinch in a plaintive, questioning -note. - -Andy presented a pitiful figure with an eye closed, his lips swollen, -and his face bruised, but the indomitable spirit of him shone from his -one bright orb. - -“You darned little buzz-saw!” said Gillis tenderly. - -Donald slapped his little friend on the back, his eyes shining with -admiration. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - -Renwick announced that Robert Rennie’s daughter and a party of girl -friends were to visit Summit Lake the following week, and carpenters -were set to work erecting cottages for their accommodation. - -A few days before her arrival Donald was both surprised and pleased to -receive a cordial letter from her in which she said that she was looking -forward with pleasure to the coming holiday, and that she would deeply -appreciate anything he might do for the entertainment of her friends. - -As always, her father spared no expense in providing for the comfort and -pleasure of his daughter. That week a car containing a motor-boat, -canoes and six saddle-horses was run in on a side-track at the mill. - -Connie learned of the coming event through Donald as she was watching -with keen interest the unloading of the spirited animals. - -“You will enjoy yourself next week, Connie,” he said gaily. “Miss Rennie -is coming with friends. We’ll have rides, picnics and dancing.” - -A few minutes later Connie joined Andy, who sat on the steps of the -kitchen door enjoying a breath of fresh air. - -“Is Miss Rennie rich, Andy?” - -“An ’ole barrel o’ dough.” - -“Is—is she beautiful?” - -“I’ve ’eard so, Connie.” - -A short pause ensued while she searched the pockets of her overalls and -produced several neatly folded papers. She extracted one, pressed it -smooth, then passed it to Andy. - -“Does Miss Rennie dress like that?” - -It was a photograph of an actress dressed for the street, taken from one -of the magazines that Donald had given her. - -“I think so, Connie.” - -“Oh! She must be wonderful, then!” said Connie earnestly. - -She moved closer to Andy, unfolded another page, and spread it on her -knee. - -Andy bent his blond head close to the one of gold. A startled look -crossed his features and his brows bobbed up and down. It was a -full-page advertisement of ladies’ lingerie. The highly coloured -illustration of a lady, partially dressed, achieved its object of -arresting the eye, while the remainder of the space was occupied by -articles of apparel similar to those adorning the lady’s graceful form. - -Andy coughed. “Er—yes, Connie.” - -Connie raised her eyebrows incredulously. - -“All at one time?” - -“Sure—sure,” mumbled Andy. - -Connie stared. “Why, there must be nearly a dozen pieces. How is this -fastened?” she questioned as she pointed with a slender brown finger to -one of the engravings. - -Andy took a quick glance. “Buttons.” - -“And this?” - -“Buttons,” replied Andy, gripping the bowl of his pipe and sending out -clouds of smoke. - -“And this?” - -“Strike me blind, what a ’ell of an ’ole,” thought Andy. - -“Buttons,” he responded desperately without looking at the paper. - -Connie raised her head. “Oh no, I don’t think so, Andy; that must slip -on,” she objected. - -Andy made a pretence of studying the article in question. - -“Yes, yes, sure! That’s right! that’s right!” he conceded quickly. - -Andy’s pipe was now sending out billows of acrid smoke. Connie coughed -and moved beyond the smoke screen. Much to Andy’s relief, she sat for a -moment silently studying the advertisement. When she raised her golden -head there was a look of wistful yearning in her blue eyes. - -“Oh, Andy,” she said dreamily, “it must be lovely to feel those soft -silky things next your skin.” - -“I’m—I’m sorry, Connie,” stuttered Andy, “but I ’ave a roast in the -oven—I——” - -“Just a minute, Andy,” she pleaded, “there is something else I want to -ask you.” She sorted the papers for a moment. - -“God ’elp me, what will it be now?” thought Andy, as he braced himself -for the next question. - -“Andy, what is a camisole?” - -A look of profound relief crossed the little Australian’s face. - -“A camisole,” he explained with an air of wisdom, “is a fish. It’s -a——” - -He was interrupted by Connie’s peal of laughter. “Oh, Andy,” she cried, -“you’re a funny man!” She turned and ran laughing down the hill. - -“Strike me lucky!” exclaimed Andy as he mopped his brow. “It’s enough to -make a blighter’s ’eart bleed. The poor motherless kid comin’ to a bloke -like me to ask such questions.” - -He watched Connie as she slowly ascended the trail, still studying the -magazine pages. - -“But ’ow the ’ell can I ’elp ’er?” - -He pondered deeply for a moment, but, seemingly unable to answer the -question, shook his head sadly and turned to his duties. - - * * * * * - -Fortunately for Janet’s peace of mind, none of her friends had -recognized in the photograph of the new champion of Canada the handsome -young man they had met at her home. They were puzzled by her decision to -spend a holiday in the wilds until she casually mentioned that Mr. -McLean was arranging for their entertainment, and she accepted with a -smile the sly teasing that followed. - -The party arrived by special train a day earlier than originally -planned, and as Janet stepped to the platform Donald was for a moment -disconcerted by the warmth of her greeting and the softness in her eyes -as they rested on him. - -That afternoon Connie came riding down the hill holding in her hand an -enormous bouquet of Alpine flowers. She leaped from her horse and ran -blithely around the corner of the big building. Andy, dressed in white -coat and hat, came smilingly forward to meet her. - -“Andy, here are some rare flowers Dad sent for——” She ceased speaking -abruptly as Donald, leading Janet and her friends from a tour of the -kitchen, came through the door. - -Donald’s face lighted with a glad smile as he saw Connie. - -“Miss Rennie, I want you to meet Miss Wainwright.” - -Connie’s face burned with embarrassment as all eyes turned toward her, -and the mass of wild flowers held crushed to her breast quivered as -though shaken by a breeze. She glanced about her quickly, strongly -tempted to flee the spot. - -For a moment the society belle and the girl of the mountains eyed each -other silently. Janet stared at Connie as if she were some strange -creature unclassified by science. Connie for the first time was gazing -on a stylishly-clad member of her own sex. Janet’s dress of white silk -shimmered in the sunshine, and her broad-brimmed white hat, with lining -of pale rose, gave to her beautiful face a ruddy glow. - -Connie’s eyes roved in admiring awe from the neat high-heeled shoes to -the silken hose and skirt, and then to the flowered hat set jauntily on -thick shining coils of dark hair. - -There was a certain dewy freshness, a native frankness, about the girl -of the woods that made Janet appear artificial. Their eyes met, and -Connie’s lips parted in a timid smile, revealing two rows of perfect -milk-white teeth and forming two tiny dimples in her brown cheeks. Her -lonely heart longed for the friendship of this wonderful girl, but the -smile quickly faded when she saw that Janet’s eyes remained cold and -appraising. - -Janet scrutinized Connie’s faded blue overalls and coarse cotton shirt, -which, even though loose and ill-fitting, could not conceal the graceful -lines of the childish figure. Confused by the cold reception, her eyes -wide and misty with a hint of pain, Connie turned quickly away. - -Moving with the easy grace and freedom that an empress might envy, -Connie walked to the side of her cayuse, and with characteristic -bird-like motion sprang to his back. Her moccasined feet struck his -sides, and with ears flattened Pegasus leaped forward with a speed that -sent Connie’s hair streaming. His spurning hoofs sent a cloud of dust in -their faces, then horse and rider went tearing down the hill. - -Janet stood staring after the flying rider, a look of blank astonishment -on her face. - -Connie’s visits to the mill ceased, but from the highest point on the -bluff she watched the merry-makers with keen interest as, dressed in -natty riding costumes, they rode their stylish horses, disported -themselves in bathing-suits on the sandy beach, paddled the lake in -light, graceful canoes, or chugged about in the shiny white motor-boat. -For two evenings she sat with a feeling of dreary lonesomeness while -Donald and Janet floated on the placid lake in one of the tiny canoes, -their subdued voices and gentle laughter coming up faintly from below. - -During the evenings she spent with Donald, Janet was assailed by -fleeting emotions in which she tried to define her attitude toward him. -She felt that the time was not far distant when some definition would be -necessary. In a number of artful ways she had tried, but without -success, to lead him to talk of himself. When she put a direct question -she saw the lines about his mouth tighten, and his reply carried a tone -of such unmistakable rebuke that her face reddened and the subject was -instantly dropped. - -On the night before Janet’s departure a dance was arranged, to which the -clerical staff of the Cheakamus Mill was invited. Gillis promised a -special feature on the programme in the form of an old-fashioned -square-dance with his “redshirts” as the performers. - -All that day the skies drizzled continuously; lake and mountain were -hidden under a heavy mist. The inclement weather did not dampen the -ardour of the merry crowd, who, in slickers and oilskins of every -description, gathered flowers and trees to decorate the big dining-room -that was to be used as a dance-hall. - -That night, lights gleamed from every window of the big room, which had -undergone a sudden transformation. The walls were one mass of wild -flowers, and on the beams overhead small cedars and jackpines stood -upright in rows, adding a pungent odour to the air, already burdened -with the sweet smell of wild flowers. The music of the phonograph flowed -out of the open door to vibrate softly through the dripping trees. - -Connie learned of the dance, and after dark she slipped quietly down -into the valley. She crouched by the open window, heedless of the rain -dripping from the eaves, her eyes glued upon the enchanting scene -within. She saw Donald and Janet gliding across the floor, and she -marvelled at the grace of their movements. The hum of talk, the constant -ripple of feminine laughter, the rustle of silken skirts, were all -foreign to Connie. She felt a touch of intense and utter loneliness, -like a stranger in a strange land. - -Janet seemed to have thrown aside her cloak of reserve; she brimmed over -with an unwonted gaiety, but at times her big brown eyes held a troubled -look as they rested on Donald. - -Gillis’s “redshirts” filed in to give an exhibition of old-fashioned -dancing. Half the men wore handkerchiefs tied about their arms to -indicate that they were impersonating ladies. Blackie played the violin, -while “Fightin’” Jack’s roaring voice did the “callin’ off.” Gillis -informed the company that Blackie “didn’t know a note of music from a -post-hole.” But what he lacked in technical knowledge was made up in the -immense volume of sound he produced from the instrument, and the speed -he set for the whirling dancers to follow soon had them dripping with -perspiration. There were shouts of Homeric laughter, big feet thumped -the floor as they girated through the intricate steps of the quadrille, -and above all sounded the hoarse voice of “Fightin’” Jack in the -colourful jargon of “callin’ off.” - - “Birdie jump out and Jackie jump in; - Jackie jump out and give Birdie a swing. - All the men left; back to pardner; - And grand right and left. - Chickadee right and pack-rat left. - Meet your pardners and all chaw hay. - Gents sashay and put on style, - Re-sashay with a little more style, - Little more style, gents, little more style.” - -At the finish the girls loudly applauded the efforts of this picturesque -crew, and after a short breathing spell they again took the floor and -danced until sheer exhaustion forced them to quit. Mopping their -dripping faces with big red bandannas, they trooped boisterously -outside. - -Near midnight the rain ceased, and as Donald walked with Janet to her -cabin the moon came suddenly from behind a dark wall of clouds to set -the lake sparkling under its soft light. - -“Too wonderful a night to sleep,” said Janet softly. - -“Shall we walk to the lake?” asked Donald. - -She nodded assent. - -They stood near the edge of the lake in the light of the moon and looked -across at the towering snow-fields etched against the star-spangled sky. -There were lights still shining from the big room they had just vacated, -and the night-watchman’s lantern bobbed jerkily as he made his rounds. -Across the lake the light from the trapper’s cabin shone on the calm -surface of the water. The faint, weird call of a loon wafted to their -ears was echoed and re-echoed in soft cadences from the surrounding -hills. A faint breath of wind came out of the rain-washed forest, laden -with the sweet perfume of earth and flowers, and caressed their faces -like loving fingers. Donald took a deep breath that seemed more like a -sigh. - -“Isn’t it beautiful?” He indicated with a sweep of his arm the lake, the -wooded hills and the glittering glaciers lifting their heads high to the -sparkling firmament. He turned to find his companion standing with -downcast eyes. - -“Don’t you like it?” he asked, a trifle resentfully. - -Janet raised her head slowly. The limpid depths of the big brown eyes -were soft and languorous in the half-light; the full red lips were dewy -and tremulous; the peaceful light of the moon shone upon her radiant -upturned face, giving it an ethereal glow. - -“It is wonderful,” she breathed. - -Involuntarily he moved closer. What was this inner urge? -Love—feeling—emotion, or, it might be, passion? - -Laughter and voices came from the trail above. Douglas with several of -the visiting party emerged into the white light of the moon. Douglas -called his sister’s name and Janet and Donald moved up the hill to join -them. - -After the sound of their footsteps died in the distance there was a -rustle in the bushes near the path as a slender, childish figure, clad -in blue overalls and cotton shirt, glided into the soft moonlight. She -stood leaning forward with the grace of some wild thing, her heavy hair -flowing about her shoulders. The big blue eyes that usually were filled -with light and happiness were now dark with passion, and two small brown -fists were pressed against a wildly-heaving breast. Tears welled from -the blue eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks. Her breath came in -gasps. - -“I hate you! Oh, how I hate you!” She stamped her tiny moccasined foot -passionately, then turned and ran blindly along the dark forest trail. - -An owl flew like a ghostly wraith to a thick growth of firs. The -startled cheep of a flying-squirrel turned to a cry of terror, quickly -silenced by the powerful beak of the owl as it made its kill. A -song-sparrow, with her downy brood cuddled to her warm breast, heard the -death-cry, and her eyes grew round with terror. - -A mallard duck, sleeping quietly on the lake, emitted a terrified quack -as it was drawn below the surface. A moment later the water was -disturbed as a mink arose, with its sharp teeth fastened in the duck’s -throat, and moved through widening ripples toward the land. - -The quick “plop” of a startled muskrat sounded sharply on the night air -as the Breed rose slowly from a spot not far from where Connie had lain -in hiding. He stood with arms folded, the stolid look of the Indian on -his face, and stared toward the spot where Connie had disappeared. A -look of ineffable sadness was in his sombre eyes. Thus he stood as -immovable as a statue for an interval. Then a long-drawn sigh escaped -him. “She loves him,” he said in a dead voice. - -He walked to the shore, his distorted limb causing him to sway -grotesquely in the moonlight. He drew a skilfully concealed dugout from -the bushes and launched it gently. His paddle spurned the water -noiselessly, and in a moment he was lost in a bright patch of reflected -moonlight. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - -A week before Dominion Day men began applying for leave of absence until -the exodus depleted the crew to such an extent that it was deemed -advisable to shut down for a week. Donald turned to Gillis as he saw the -whole crew of “redshirts” pile tumultuously on the train. - -“How often do the men quit like this?” he asked rather irritably. - -“Every holiday,” replied Gillis. - -Donald pondered a moment. - -“That means that we may lose a week for Labour Day.” - -“Very likely.” - -“Jack, do you think we could keep them here if we held some sort of -celebration at the lake?” - -“I believe we could,” responded Gillis warmly. - -“We’ll do it then,” declared Donald. “We’ve so many orders ahead that -this lay-off may force us to run a night crew.” - -“Did you spend all your dough, Blackie?” asked Gillis when the -“redshirts” arrived back from town. - -“Me and Hoop-la spent about two hundred bucks, but we had three hundred -dollars’ worth o’ fun. We ain’t got enough money to buy a humminbird a -pair o’ leggin’s, but we sure had a helluva good time, so we ain’t -worryin’.” - -“S’pose you bought them new boots?” inquired Gillis. - -Blackie forced a laugh. “Goin’ to git them next time, Jack,” he -continued, moving closer to his big boss; “say, Jack, you know that I -send twenty dollars to my mother back east ev’ry month. I—I——” - -“All right, Blackie,” said Gillis gently, “I’ll advance it to you.” - -“Thanks, Jack, you’re a good pal,” commended Blackie in a relieved tone. - -Donald and Gillis walked down the hill to inspect the logs in the boom, -and as they walked Gillis indulged in some pointed observations. “You -know, Donnie, that these loggers are game guys to come back after -spendin’ all their money and say: ‘We had a good time, so we ain’t -worryin’.’ The man ain’t human that won’t worry after spendin’ in a few -days the money it’s taken him six months to earn swingin’ an axe an’ -draggin’ a saw. Still, they hide their remorse under a grin and tell of -what a good time they’ve had. So many people think that loggers spend -all their money for booze. ’Tain’t so. That gang of mine give away about -half their money to bums around town. I have seen Blackie give away -twenty bucks at a time.” - -As they passed the high-rigger’s little cabin, Gillis poked his head -through the door. Blackie was absorbed in the task of sewing a patch on -a pair of worn boots. A mournful wind blew querulously around the cabin. - -“Say, Blackie, do you know what that wind is saying?” - -Blackie grunted a negative. - -“Here’s what it’s a sayin’,” said Gillis as he puckered his lips: -“O-o-o-o-h! W-h-e-e-r-r-e-e has your summer wages gone! O-o-o-h! -W-h-e-r-r-e-e has your summer——” - -Gillis dodged back as a boot came whizzing past his head. - - * * * * * - -Midsummer brought an epidemic of labour disturbances throughout the -Province. A radical labour organization seized on a time when work was -plentiful and labour scarce to spread their insidious propaganda through -the camps. Railroad construction in the interior had been seriously -interfered with, and in many cases there had been violence and -bloodshed. - -Two agitators arrived at the Summit Mill, and the next day several of -the men—including Hand and Blackie—did not appear when the whistle -blew. Gillis found them in Blackie’s cabin in a half-drunken condition. -That afternoon Renwick ordered the two strangers off the premises and -discharged Hand. - -Hoop-la begged successfully for lenience toward his erring pal. “You -know how booze affects Blackie, Jack,” he pleaded. - -Donald became aware of a changed bearing on the part of many of the men. -Sullenness had fallen upon them; discontent manifested itself, as well -as insubordination. That afternoon spikes driven in the logs wreaked -havoc with the saws and forced a partial shut-down. - -A committee of four men waited on Renwick and presented an ultimatum. -They demanded a heavy increase in wages, or they would call for an -immediate cessation of work on the part of the men they represented. -Renwick promptly refused. In fifteen minutes every man in the mill -except the clerical staff, the mechanics and the engineer, walked out. -In the woods only Gillis’s “redshirts” remained at work. - -The strikers moved up the track and made camp on a point of land on the -lake-shore. That night the door of the commissary was prised from its -hinges and a quantity of food stolen, and the night-watchman put out a -fire of incendiary origin. - -Renwick, while returning from the power-house, was shot at twice from -ambush. He wired his resignation to Robert Rennie, and in terrified -haste packed his belongings and left on the next train. An hour later -the agent brought Donald a telegram: - - “Donald McLean, - “Summit Mill. - - “You are promoted to position vacated by Renwick. Refuse - strikers’ demands. Ship at Squamish Oriental order white pine. - Utmost importance lumber loaded within week. Use every means in - power to keep plant operating. - - “Robert Rennie.” - -He passed the message to Gillis. The big man turned and grasped Donald’s -hand in congratulation. - -“We’ll get that order out on time or bust,” declared Gillis grimly. - -Donald distributed firearms among his loyal men, and one-half the crew -patrolled the plant while the others slept. - -Donald had been up the greater part of the night, and at Gillis’s -earnest request he went to his cabin near midnight. As the door closed -behind him, Connie, with her rifle resting in the hollow of her arm, -rose silently from behind a tree in the darkness of the hillside and -flitted noiselessly on moccasined feet from stump to stump. Unseen she -reached the corner of Donald’s cabin, where she sank to the ground with -the soft, slow grace of a nestling bird. - -The Cheakamus Mill, robbed of man-power, was forced to cease operations. -At the Summit Mill work went on with such speed as in the situation -Donald was able to induce in the men, who were on edge. To him it seemed -that they were working on top of a powder mine that might go off at any -moment. He discovered in himself a faculty to handle men and to raise -them to a fever pitch of enthusiasm—not that the B.C. logger is a hard -man to lift to the fighting point. His fight against great odds had -gained the sympathy of the loyal—a sympathy and respect that money -could not buy. Gillis’s gang, with the exception of “Blackie,” remained -fervently faithful. - -Toiling in the hot sun, nearly blinded by sweat, singing lustily, this -gallant crew worked their twelve hours without a murmur of complaint. -Donald lived on the job, ate on the job, and all day long he drove his -men even as he drove himself. His rest consisted of such fitful snatches -of sleep as he could steal between his rounds of the night guards. - -The first move of the strikers was not of open violence. The haul-back -on two of the donkeys broke without apparent reason; one of the big saws -had been tampered with; Wilkinson reported two fires of incendiary -origin, and also that an attempt to dynamite the power-house had been -frustrated. - -On the third morning Hand, at the head of a mob of fifty men, made a -swift descent on the lumbering operations. It might have been successful -if Donald had not expected something of this kind and set efficient -watch. - -The invaders came down the track in a solid body, armed with cant-dog -handles, pick-axes and clubs, and thirsting for battle. At Donald’s -quick shout of warning his men dropped their tools and came on the run -to form in a compact body behind him. - -“Don’t use your guns unless you have to,” he warned, as he noticed -several of them flash their revolvers. - -Donald climbed quickly to the top of a large stump. In his left hand he -held a stick of dynamite with fuse attached; in his right he held a -match close to the dangling fuse. “Men,” he cried in a determined tone, -“if you move forward one step I will throw this.” - -“To hell mit him!” shouted Hand. “He don’t dare do it. Rush him.” - -But the mob did not obey their leader’s rash command. Donald’s pale face -and burning black eyes were sufficient evidence that he made no idle -threat. Donald saw the big hand of his foreman stealing to the butt of -the heavy Colts that hung at his side. “Keep cool, Jack,” he begged; -“don’t start anything.” - -For days Gillis had been without sleep. He turned bloodshot eyes on -Donald. “By G——! I would like to take a crack at Hand,” he said in a -voice thick with rage. - -The hostile crowd did not advance; neither did they leave. Scattered in -groups, they lay or sat on the hillside to shout occasionally words of -derision at Donald’s faithful crew. - -Donald’s nerves were on edge. At any moment there might be a pitched -battle with loss of lives. He studied the faces of the strikers to see -how many were from his crew, and was surprised to recognize fully forty -of his men. He saw “Blackie” in the rear of the crowd of strikers. When -his eyes met Donald’s he turned away shamefacedly. All the men from his -camp refused to meet his gaze squarely. “Those men are ready to come -back right now,” he said to Gillis. “Hand has bullied them into this. -Don’t you think so?” - -“I don’t know,” answered Gillis. “I never thought Blackie would go back -on me. I’ll wring his d——d neck when I catch him in town!” he added -bitterly. - -Donald heard a slight movement behind him, and turned to see Connie -standing with her rifle in the crook of her arm. - -“Good heavens! Connie, you shouldn’t be here!” he exclaimed. - -Connie’s face bore traces of weariness and sleeplessness. For three -nights she had stolen softly away from her cabin on the hillside to lie -hidden outside that of Donald. By night she had kept up a weary vigil, -ever on the alert; in the forenoon she had lain behind a stump on the -hill with eyes on Donald’s tall figure whenever he came in sight, her -rifle ready for instant action. Hand did not know that death had nearly -claimed him when he stepped forward to urge his men to charge. At that -crucial moment Connie’s rifle was aimed at his heart. - -“Get away from here at once, Connie!” said Donald, firmly, but kindly. - -Connie lowered her eyes to her moccasined foot, that was weaving -patterns in the dry soil, and shook her small head obstinately. - -“Why do you wish to stay?” he asked. - -She patted the stock of her rifle. “I—I want to help you.” - -Donald looked down at the weary little figure. He stepped down from the -stump, keeping a wary eye on the belligerent strikers, and came to her -side. “Connie,” he said softly, “you are a dear, brave little girl, but -you must get away from this place, as there may be serious trouble. -Please, Connie,” he entreated, reaching out a hand to stroke her shining -hair. - -Connie’s face paled quickly, and she shrank from the caress. Her slender -body trembled at his touch, and his display of tenderness brought a -sudden rush of tears to her eyes. But she made no move to leave the -scene. - -Finding that he could not shake Connie’s determination to stay, Donald -returned to the vantage point of the stump. “Jack,” he said, turning to -his big foreman, “I am going to make one last appeal to these men. If I -am any judge of human nature about half of them, if they can save their -faces, will welcome the chance to go back to work. They are being -dominated by Hand.” - -Gillis shrugged his shoulders. “Do what you think best,” he said. - -Donald passed the dynamite to Gillis and stepped forward with his arms -extended, palms upward. The crowd moved uneasily. Hand came slowly to -his feet, his small eyes narrowed with suspicion. - -“What’s up?” he growled. - -“Men,” Donald began in a high clear voice, “I would like to convince you -that you will gain nothing by your present tactics. Bloodshed will -surely ensue. I have orders to refuse your exorbitant demands. -Personally, I have no choice in the matter; there is no other course for -me to pursue. In spite of your interference we will continue working -with the few men who have remained loyal. I will ask for police -protection only as a last resort. I appeal particularly to the men who -worked for me here at this camp. Is there one of you who can truthfully -say that you were not accorded fair treatment? Is there one of you who -will not admit that the general equipment for your comfort is unequalled -in any camp in British Columbia? You are making a mistake, men,” he went -on in a pleading tone, “a mistake you will be sorry for later, for you -will be blacklisted in every camp in the country. Go back to work, and I -promise you there will be no mark against you. That’s all.” - -Donald walked back to Connie’s side. The men had not interrupted him -once. - -Hand turned to the wavering crowd. “To hell mit him and all -capitalists!” he snarled. He turned to shake a huge fist at Donald. - -“You treaten us, do you? You d——” The epithet that came from his -coarse lips was one that would cause any decent man to see red. - -Donald stiffened. His face turned livid. “You dirty cur!” he flamed. -“Don’t you know that there is a lady present? You apologize to this -little girl or I will whip you within an inch of your life!” His voice -trembled with passion. - -“Lady,” scoffed Hand, “vat you call a lady? She moost be nice lady, -runnin’ in de woods wit’ you ev’ry Sunday.” - -A murderous look shot from Donald’s dark eyes. A terrible rage possessed -him, a rage that made his blood feel hot in his veins and gave him the -unnatural strength of a madman. A dull red flamed in Connie’s tanned -cheeks. She sat down and covered her hot face with her hands. - -Andy now came running from the cook-house, dressed in white cap and -apron, his rifle trailing at his side. “What’s goin’ on, Donnie?” he -questioned. - -Donald did not answer. Gillis spoke to Andy in an undertone. - -“My God, Donnie, ’e’s twice your size! Don’t fight ’im!” implored Andy. - -“I’ll kill him!” rasped Donald. - -Gillis seized his arm. “Let me fix the d—— skunk; he’s nearer my -size.” - -“No, this is my affair!” shaking himself from the grasp. - -The sound of a paddle came from below, and the trapper sprang from his -dugout and came swiftly up the hill. As Andy briefly explained the -situation the old man’s grey eyes narrowed to mere slits beneath the -shaggy brows. - -“Ah!” he breathed. “Me and ‘Betsey’,” patting his six-shooter, “we likes -to shoot up bohunks. We shoots them in the heel so’s to save their -clothes.” His mouth was set in a grim smile, a smile that was belied by -the steely look in his deep-set eyes. He seated himself on a log and -placed his gun on his knees. - -Donald had by this divested himself of coat and shirt and now stepped -forward dressed in light cotton trousers, a sleeveless undershirt and -moccasins. “Hand,” he said in a steady voice, “this is between you and -me. See to it that your men do not interfere; I will vouch for mine.” - -The big foreigner was rubbing his big hands as though in pleased -anticipation. “I suppose you know how we iss goin’ to fight? Everything -goes, you know.” His grin was fiendish. - -Donald knew what was meant. There were to be no rules of combat; no time -duration; no referee; no rounds, and woe to the man who should go down. -It was to be a battle as of primeval man. It might result in terrible -injury and mutilation. He sickened at the thought. - -Hand stripped to the waist. Connie’s eyes rested on the mighty frame of -this huge blond; the bunched and rippling muscles, the great chest -covered with a mat of thick hair, and the enormous limbs. Her glance -then turned and roved to the man who was to fight for her honour. -Donald’s eyes were like burning coals. His face had regained its colour, -but was contorted with a passion that made him seem unnatural. Yet he -appeared a mere stripling in comparison to his burly antagonist. - -For a moment Connie became a primitive woman. She felt as though she -could rend and tear. Her eyes darted blue lightnings of wrath toward the -man who had insulted her, and her small hands clinched in impotent fury. -Her nails cut into her palms as she exercised every ounce of -self-control to keep from screaming aloud. Donald was fighting for her. -She caught her breath in a quick stab. Her heart was beating with -alternate throbs of joy and fear. A sudden fit of trembling seized her, -and her head felt light and giddy. - -Hand’s reputation as a rough and tumble fighter was well known -throughout the Province. It was his proud boast that he never had been -whipped. He advanced now, a sinister leer on his face. Andy ran to -Donald’s side. - -“Box ’im, Donnie,” he whispered. “Don’t let ’im get ’old on you.” - -“You goin’ to vip me? De dude goin’ to vip me? Ach!” scoffed Hand in -guttural accents. - -He came slowly forward with arms spread wide, his thick fingers working -convulsively. Donald leaned slightly forward and waited. As he neared -him, Hand tore in, sure of himself in the rough and tumble. Donald -side-stepped the big man’s first rush and shot his left to his face. He -was not properly set for the blow, but it stung Hand to madness. - -“Ach!” he grunted, “stand and fight you d—— coward!” - -He came on, his arms swinging wildly. Leaping aside, Donald’s heel -struck a stump, and before he could regain his footing the giant’s arms -were around him in a bone-crushing grasp. His hands were clasped at -Donald’s waist, and the big head was pressed suffocatingly against his -throat. Donald was forced slowly backward to strike the ground with a -thud, the big man on top. - -“Now I got you!” panted Hand as he released his hold on Donald’s waist -and aimed a blow at his face. With a quick movement the under man turned -face down. Hand struck him viciously as he lay prostrate under him. - -Connie’s eyes were wide with horror, and a muffled scream escaped her -lips as the blow fell. - -With a quick, convulsive movement of his lithe body Donald threw Hand -from his back and sprang to his feet. Whirling quickly as the foreigner -came toward him, he sent in a volley of blows to his opponent’s face. -Hand staggered, but did not fall. His lips were cut and bleeding: his -nose was broken; and he spat out several broken teeth. Any one of the -blows landed was sufficient to send an ordinary man down for the count, -but still the gargantuan giant came on. - -In and out Donald flashed, his arms moving like steel pistons. Hand -could not keep away from the punishing left hand of his lighter -opponent. Men not trained in the science of boxing have no punishing -power in their left hand, but depend solely on their right. Such was the -case with Hand. His style did not vary for a moment. With head lowered -between his powerful shoulders, he would bore in, swinging wildly in the -hope of landing a lucky punch, or striving to get a hold on his -adversary. Donald’s hand kept beating a tattoo on his rock-like jaw, but -still Hand came forward, slowly and relentlessly as a steam-roller. - -Crowding Donald back to the line of tense spectators, Hand rushed him -into the scattering crowd and seized him in a rib-cracking embrace. -Donald broke the hold, but not before the brute had butted him over the -eye. With the blow Donald’s senses reeled and the blood gushed from a -wide gash on his brow. A blow from the foreigner’s big fist then caught -him over the heart and sent him staggering to his knees. With a curse -the big man came after him. - -Andy shouted hysterical words of advice. - -Donald came slowly to his feet and mechanically side-stepped as Hand -came stumbling toward him. Donald evaded him until his head cleared, and -then summoned his remaining strength into one mighty blow that landed -flush on his opponent’s midriff. The blond beast came to his knees with -a dull grunt. - -“Go after him!” yelled excited voices from the crowd. - -Donald stepped forward with fist drawn back to strike the kneeling man, -but his arm fell to his side and he shook his head. “Get up!” he -commanded hoarsely. - -Even the strikers gasped their appreciation of this honourable act. A -murmur of applause came from both sides. The foreigner shook his shaggy -blond head and came uncertainly to his feet and the sanguinary battle -went on. Both men were tired. Hand’s breath was coming in short, choking -gasps from his tortured lungs, and his face was one smear of blood. -Donald’s left eye was closed; his lips were split, and the gash over his -eye had covered his body with blood. His arms were tired from pounding -the iron jaw of his adversary. The big logger’s strength was waning; the -pounding administered by Donald was beginning to tell. But Donald was -too weak to avoid his rushes. In a clinch Hand again butted him with his -head. - -Blackie, his eyes blazing, leaped forward with a peavy handle in his -hand. “You fight fair, d—— you, or I’ll brain you!” he shouted. One of -the strikers attempted to wrest the peavy handle from his hands. Blackie -felled him with a blow of his fist. It looked for one tense moment as if -there would be a general mêlée. There came sullen mutterings from the -crowd of strikers. - -“Back!” John Hiller’s voice rang out sharp and clear. “I’ll kill the -first man that interferes!” The eyes shining over the long-barrelled -Colt held a dangerous glint. The men who had moved to the centre backed -away hurriedly. - -Back and forth the combatants struggled, neither gaining any decided -advantage, each trying to land a blow that would end the battle. -Reeling, gasping, striking, falling to their knees from sheer weakness, -the men fought on under a burning noonday sun. - -No knight of old ever fought more nobly for a fair lady’s honour than -did Donald McLean that day by the lake-shore. His undershirt was torn to -tatters, showing his white skin blotched with welts and bruises. He was -losing his sense of distance. Swinging wildly with his left, his wrist -struck Hand’s adamantine jaw and the onlookers saw his face writhe in -pain as the arm fell helplessly to his side. - -“’E’s broken ’is ’and,” groaned Andy. - -“Oh, stop it, Andy, please stop it!” sobbed Connie, her arms held out in -entreaty. - -Donald’s face turned a sickly grey, and as the well-nigh sightless -foreigner staggered weakly toward him, he with a strength born of agony -whipped his right to his opponent’s sagging jaw. The big man faltered, -sank slowly to hands and knees, then stretched at full length, his face -pressing the soil, quivered and lay still. No sound came from the crowd. -The thing had been too stupendous for immediate shouting or applause. -Donald stood for an instant swaying uncertainly, then turned to stumble -toward his cabin. - -Blackie sprang to the top of a stump and swung his hat in the air. -“Three cheers for our boss!” he yelled wildly. - -A roaring cheer came from the crowd with a right good will. - -“Boys, let’s go back to work!” shouted Blackie. - -“We’re with you, Blackie!” they answered. - -Gillis reached Donald’s side as he tottered into the cabin and caught -him in his arms as he collapsed into unconsciousness. The big man picked -him up tenderly and placed him on the bed. - -“Get some ’ot water and towels and telephone for Dr. Paul,” commanded -Andy tersely. - -As Gillis left to fill Andy’s commission, Connie fell on her knees by -the bedside and wept with wild and passionate violence. “Oh, Donald! -Donald!” she sobbed, “you fought for me. I love you! I love you! Oh, -Andy,” turning her streaming eyes to the little man, “he won’t die, will -he? Tell me he won’t die!” Her trembling fingers were smoothing Donald’s -dark hair, and she kissed his battered face tenderly, all the while -calling his name hysterically. - -With tears in his eyes and a heart full of sympathy, little Andy looked -down on the recumbent form of his unconscious friend. “’E’s all right, -Connie. ’E’ll be all right in a few days,” he answered her in a choking -voice. - -Donald stirred as Andy applied the water, and his one good eye opened -slowly. “Did I win?” he questioned weakly. - -“You bet your blinkin’ life you did.” - -When Donald’s gaze rested on Connie his face twisted into a wry smile. -He reached for her hand and held it in a firm pressure. “Good little -sport,” he whispered through split lips. - -Connie felt as though her heart would burst. Scorching tears ran down -her face, and it was with the utmost difficulty that she controlled the -suffocating sobs that filled her throat. - -The sound of the big mill whistle smote their ears in a wild medley of -short, sharp blasts, quite unlike the decorous tone that summoned and -dismissed the men. - -“What’s that?” asked Donald, attempting to sit up. - -“The engineer is celebrating, Donnie. The men ’ave returned to work. The -strike is broken.” - -“Ah!” sighed Donald happily as he fell back on the pillows. - -The distant hum of a gas-car gradually increased to a series of staccato -explosions, then died out suddenly. They heard the light rumble of -wheels as it drew to a stop at the station below. There was the sound of -quick footsteps on the board sidewalk and the door opened to admit Dr. -Paul. He crossed the room and took Donald’s hand. “Is it true,” he asked -incredulously, “that you whipped Ole Hand?” - -“Strike me pink if ’e didn’t,” Andy vouchsafed. - -“I have patched up Hand’s victim’s many times,” the doctor stated, “but -this is the first time that I have attended his victor, and I can assure -you that it’s a pleasure.” He removed his coat and rolled up his -sleeves. “I’ll look you over,” he added, then glanced significantly at -Connie, who rose and left the room. - -“A couple of cracked ribs, a fractured ulna, and a few hundred bruises,” -was the doctor’s verdict a few minutes later. - -The physician’s deft hands soon bandaged the broken ribs and set the -bone of the forearm. - -“I’ll go and patch up the fallen bully. I hope he’s worse still,” he -chuckled as he left the room. - -Andy stepped to the door and called in Connie. - -“Don’t look so frightened, Connie,” smiled Donald. “I don’t feel half as -bad as I look.” - -“I’ll have to go now,” she said in a voice choked with emotion. - -Andy accompanied her outside the door. “’Ave a bite to eat, Connie?” he -invited. - -Connie shook her head. Now that the excitement was over, the strain of -the emotion she had experienced showed in the dark shadows under her -eyes and in the droop of her slight shoulders. “Andy,” she began, as she -placed a small hand on his arm, “you—you won’t say anything -what—what—I——” - -A flood of rose dyed her tanned cheeks and her blue eyes fell in -embarrassment. Andy patted her shoulder reassuringly. - -“I’ll never s’y a blinkin’ word, Connie; an oyster’s got nothin’ on me.” - -Connie, visibly relieved, picked up her gun and started up the hill. -Andy watched the pathetic little figure until she disappeared in the -woods. For a moment he stood staring into nothingness, then, shaking his -head sadly, he entered the cabin. - -“She’s a little brick, Andy,” Donald spoke weakly from his bed. - -Andy glared at him. “Brick!” he repeated sarcastically. “Is that all? -You big, bone-’eaded, blinkin’ boob!” He slammed the door as he went out -to give emphasis to the remark. - -“What the devil does he mean?” puzzled Donald. He turned painfully to -his side, yawned equally as painfully, then fell into a sound sleep. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - -On the third day of Donald’s convalescence he was able to leave his -cabin. With his arm in a sling, his face patched with plaster, he made -the rounds of the mill. - -The men welcomed him with eager nods and smiles, many coming forward to -shake his hand in silent respect. The big plant was now going at full -blast. Belts flapped, logs thudded, planers snored loudly, and the great -saw ripped shrilly through the big logs in a raising crescendo of sound. - -Down at the siding an engine bumped noisily into a long string of -flat-cars piled high with lumber. With arms akimbo, his wet undershirt -clinging to his powerful torso, the mop of blond hair hanging damp on -his brow, Gillis stood surveying the heavily-laden cars with an air of -complacency. The lumber handlers sat about in positions of weariness, -mopping their hot faces. - -Gillis smiled cheerfully as Donald approached. - -“Good news for you, Donnie,” he said. - -“What is it, Jack?” - -“Last load for the big steamer,” replied Gillis, as he pointed at the -moving train. - -“We’re on time, then,” cried Donald gladly. - -“One day ahead,” corrected Gillis. - -The engineer came to the cab window as the engine passed, and pantomimed -his congratulations by shaking hands with himself. The train gathered -speed, and as the caboose rattled by, the conductor came to the rear -platform. - -“Good work, boys!” he shouted. - -They stood watching the train until it struck the down grade and -disappeared through the cut. - -“Well, that’s over,” observed Gillis, as he sat down heavily and wiped -the sweat from his face. He looked tired and worn, but the light of -victory shone in his eyes. - -“If it hadn’t been for you, Jack,” said Donald earnestly, “we would not -have got that order away on time. You look all in; you’d better have a -good sleep.” - -The big man’s eyes brightened at Donald’s praise. - -“You don’t look like you’d bin to a Sunday-school picnic,” replied -Gillis with a chuckle. - -As Donald walked up the hill the whistle blew for the noon-hour, and the -men trooped past on their way to the dining-room. Blackie left the ranks -and walked shamefacedly to Donald’s side. - -“I’m sorry for the part I took in the strike, boss, I——” - -“It’s all right, Blackie,” interrupted Donald, “you more than made up -for it. We’ll forget all about that.” - -Blackie’s face wore a relieved look as Donald gave his hand a friendly -grip. - -Meals in logging camps are eaten in silence and with a fixity of -purpose. It is a business to be finished with as hurriedly as possible. -From the time the men are seated until the chairs are pushed back, the -clatter of dishes and an occasional “pass the butter” are the only -sounds. - -As Donald moved to his place at the table the men arose and clapped -their hands. Someone called for a cheer, but Donald laughingly held up -his hand. - -“Men, I can’t find words to tell you how much I appreciate your good -work. Your long hours of labour enabled the Company to get an important -order away on time, thereby saving their prestige in a big Eastern -market. You will receive double pay for every hour you worked during the -week.” - -A low murmur of applause followed this welcome announcement. - -After lunch, feeling the need of exercise, Donald made his way slowly -down the hill. The severe mauling and the days in bed had weakened him -to such an extent that he was forced to take frequent rests. As he -turned a curve in the trail, Hand and the man with whom Andy had fought -crawled stealthily from the bush, looked furtively about them, then -followed Donald down the hill. He reached the open glade by the fairy -nest to find Connie seated by the rippling stream, her chin resting in -cupped hands, and staring dreamily into the flashing water. - -“Ah!” he cried gaily, “I have caught my little dryad at her orisons.” - -At the sound of his voice Connie sprang to her feet, her heart racing -madly. Hearing a sound behind him, Donald turned to find the eyes of the -Breed fixed on him in a malignant glare that chilled him to the marrow. -For a short interval the dusky orbs of the Indian held his as though -with a hypnotic power. - -“Whew!” he ejaculated, as the Breed hobbled down the trail, “your -guardian sure does give me an awful look. Why does he hate me, Connie?” - -“Joe has peculiar ways,” she parried. - -“What were you dreaming about, Connie?” he asked interestedly. - -A gay light danced momentarily in her shining eyes, and the red lips -curved in a smile; “I was dreaming I was rich,” she archly confessed. - -“An old, old dream,” smiled Donald as he stretched himself painfully on -the moss. - -Connie sat down near him. - -As always, this spot gave Donald a restful feeling. The gentle zephyrs -wafted from the woods about them were somnolently delicious and the -sparkling glacial stream that rippled through the glade sang its clear, -sweet song. He closed his eyes wearily. - -The proximity of the man she loved, lying there with his arm in a -splint, his handsome face still bearing the marks of the blows he had -suffered in her defence, thrilled Connie to the depths of her warm, -impulsive heart. An almost overmastering desire to touch his hair -possessed her. - -“What would you do if you were rich, Connie?” he queried drowsily. - -Connie sank back in the delicious moss and clasped her hands behind her -golden head. “I’d buy a big trunk—one of that kind with the bulgy -top—and I’d fill it with silks, satins, brocades, velvets and all kinds -of soft frilly things. Then I’d unpack it slowly one by one and hang -them up all around the room and sit down and look at them. I’d buy a -great, big stone house in London, and I’d walk down the wide marble -stairs, trailing a long rustling silk gown, and I’d raise my lorgnette -to my eyes and say, ‘James, have the carriage at the door in -half-an-hour.’ I’d have a country place in Scotland, with hundreds of -dogs and horses, thousands of birds, and acres of flowers.” - -She paused for a moment. - -“I’d take Dad and Peggy with me everywhere I’d go,” she went on softly, -“and I’d buy Dad millions of books, and for Peggy I’d buy a solid -gold-mounted bridle, and lots of warm blankets for winter instead of -those old sacks. I’d buy lots of good things to eat, and lots of good -clothes for all the poor kiddies in the world.” - -She looked up at the hills. “And six months out of every year,” she -continued, “I’d live right here in these mountains and come every day -and sit beside—beside—this stream.” - -She raised herself slowly and looked down at Donald as he lay with -closed eyes. Leaning forward until her golden curls almost brushed his -dark hair, her eyes rested on a purple bruise on his brow. “And,” she -finished fiercely, “I’d kill every man like Ole Hand.” - -Donald laughed sleepily. - -“Connie, you are a dear little girl,” he said tenderly. - -The endearing tone held a paternal ring, and Connie bit her lip in -vexation. - -“I’d like to have you and your father go with me to Vancouver some day. -Will you go?” - -For a moment Connie was silent. “When—when my dreams come true,” she -responded with an embarrassed smile. - -Then he told her of the city and its ways and the things people did. She -listened, not with amazement, but with a contented smile, as though what -he told her was a confirmation of her dreams. But when he told her of -the grand opera, the music, the costumes and the singing, her grey eyes -wide with longing, she sighed deeply. - -Donald’s voice trailed to a drowsy close; his chest rose and fell -regularly, his features relaxed. He felt as though he were floating, -exquisitely floating, on a sea of fleecy clouds that was bearing him -softly away. A delicious langour enthralled him—an enchantment drowsy -and dim. He felt himself drifting, drifting . . . He was asleep. - -The willows at the lower end of the meadow were pushed cautiously aside, -and Hand’s head appeared in the opening. For two days he had lain hidden -awaiting an opportunity to waylay Donald. The day after the fight he had -boarded the train for the Coast, but had slipped from the car at the -station below. - -His face—unprepossessing at its best—was now a horrible sight. The -thick lips were swollen and cracked, the eyes discoloured and puffed, -and the broken teeth bared in a snarl as he saw Donald lying by the -stream. Every hour since the fight Hand’s hatred for Donald had grown -blacker. He would show him that he, Ole Hand, deserved his reputation as -a fighter. He would hold this crippled man helpless while he showered -blows on his unprotected face, make him cry out for mercy on bended -knees; perhaps kill him. His hatred grew hotter and deeper as he watched -him lying peacefully beside the girl who had been the cause of the fight -in which he had been ignominiously whipped. - -Connie sat gazing intently down on the sleeper. A sudden thought seized -her, bringing a warm flush to her cheeks. Why not? No one would ever -know. Would she dare? She glanced timorously about her, then leaned -slowly over, her curls falling about her face, and touched her soft lips -to Donald’s cheek. - -A bluejay screamed derisively. Connie came to her feet, her face -crimson. Donald stirred, opened his eyes, and painfully raised himself. - -“I’m sorry, Connie,” he apologized, “it was very rude of me to go to -sleep.” - -A moment later he walked down the hill. Connie accompanied him a short -distance, then turned up a steep path, and from a high, rocky ridge she -watched his retreating figure as he turned toward the dam. - -A huge bucket on a cable, that had been used during construction for -carrying men and material across the roaring chasm below the falls, -still hung above the boiling waters. - -For Donald there was a certain thrill, a keen exhilaration, in swinging -in mid-air in this crude conveyance. He stepped into the bucket and with -his one good arm pulled it along the rusty cable. - -The Breed, hidden near the trail, saw Donald as he walked toward the -dam. The venomous look in his eyes gave place to one of strained -interest as he saw the two men skulking menacingly after the -unsuspecting man. With a feeling of malignant exultation, as he sensed -disaster to the man he hated, he hobbled to the trail and furtively -followed. - -From the heights above Connie saw the sneaking figures as they crouched -low against the edge of the dark spruces and at once divined their -murderous object. For an instant she was paralyzed with terror. Her lips -refused to move and her limbs grew numb. - -The men moved cautiously as they approached their intended victim, -fearing that he might be armed. As Hand saw Donald suspended over the -river a look of fiendish elation crossed his features. Here was a chance -to dispose of his enemy with no trace of the crime. He tore a fire-axe -from the wall of the tool-house and ran to the swaying cable. - -The Breed heard Connie’s piercing scream of terror above the sound of -crashing waters. He glanced up to see her silhouetted against the blue -sky, her arms waving frantically. - -“Joe! Joe! Stop them! Stop them!” - -Screaming again, she plunged straight down the hillside in a mad race to -reach the scene of action. Running like a deer, stumbling and falling, -her breath coming in short gasps, she ran wildly on. Snarls of the -thorny crab-apple tore at her, devil’s-club lacerated her face and -hands, but she felt no pain. “O God,” she prayed aloud, “help me save -him! Help me save him!” - -Donald’s face blanched at the sound of the axe as it bit into the heavy -wire cable. He looked down at the jagged rocks and seething waters -below. Then with closed eyes and a prayer on his lips he tore in mad -frenzy at the rope. Desperately he tugged with both hands, although the -pain from his broken wrist sent a wave of torment up his arm that -sickened him. - -No man can measure the speed of thought in a crisis; even the sluggish -brain of the Breed functioned rapidly. Connie was not for him. Her -happiness was bound up in the man working feverishly at the haul-back. -There was not one chance in a million that he would gain the safety of -the cliff before the strands parted to plunge him to eternity. As he -heard the crashing of Connie’s slender body as she tore down the hill, a -softness crept into his eyes. With a speed incredible in one with his -pitiful deformity, he ran in a series of bounding steps to the edge of -the bluff. The noise of tumbling waters drowned the sound of his -approach. Just as Hand raised his axe for the final blow, the muscular -arms of the Breed were flung about him. Emitting a startled curse, the -big man turned and with a twist of his powerful shoulders flung his -dusky assailant to the ground. As he rose Hand swung viciously at him -with the axe. - -With a quick movement the Breed dodged, and the weapon flashed over his -head, flew from the big man’s hands, and struck his confederate, a -glancing blow on the shoulder that brought from him a howl of pain. -Again the Breed’s arms closed about his adversary’s waist. Mad with the -pain in his shoulder, the foreigner drew a long, keen knife, circled -warily about the two wrestling men until he found an opening, then -plunged the knife to the hilt in the Breed’s left side. The stricken man -slithered from his opponent’s arms and fell a crumpled heap to the -ground. - -Sick and giddy, Donald stumbled from the bucket, seized the axe and -advanced weakly toward Hand. Hand’s accomplice, taking one look at the -prostrate body, turned and fled terror-stricken to the woods. Hand -hesitated for a moment, then followed heavily after. - -At this moment, Connie, with clothes torn and hair dishevelled, broke -from the woods, and with a cry of pity flung herself to the ground by -the Breed’s side and placed his head on her lap. The eyes of the wounded -man flickered slowly open. He tried to speak, but a strong convulsion -shook his frame from head to foot and he writhed in desperate agony. - -Connie’s face as she lifted it to Donald was drawn with grief. “Get me -some water, please,” she said brokenly. - -The dying man’s lips moved. Connie leaned closer. - -“I—I—love you,” he whispered faintly, “I—saved him—for you.” - -A ghastly pallor spread over his features and his lips were widely -parted in a struggle for breath. Again his lips moved in a fluttering -whisper. “Connie—will—you—kiss me?” - -As Connie pressed her tear-wet face to his the pain-contorted features -relaxed in a smile of wonderful peace and his eyes closed. - -When Donald returned Connie’s head was bowed and she was weeping softly. - -“How is he, Connie?” he questioned gently. - -“He’s dead.” - -Donald removed his hat and knelt with bowed head. - -“He died for me,” he choked. - -“And for me,” she whispered inaudibly. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - -Lest we tire of monotony, Nature gives us a change of colour for each of -the flowering seasons. Flowers of every hue may be found through the -different months. Pink for May, red for June, blue and pink for July, -and during August royal robes of gold and purple clothe the hills and -valleys. - -The last week of August brought to Summit Lake a pageantry of colour -that the Coast region is denied owing to the persistent rains that -retard the ripening of the leaf. The deciduous trees were already -withdrawing their life-giving fluid from the leaves to store it in their -roots until spring. The willow, vine maple, birch and alder along the -creeks and lake-shore held touches of autumnal colouring; while on the -hills the yellowed leaves of the cottonwood were brilliant in their -setting of sober dark green conifers. - -A gaudy red were the vine maples, but there was a leafy beauty greater -than theirs. The flowering dogwood blazed from every nook and cranny. -The ripening of the dogwood gives to its leaves a flame that burns with -a fierce glow; a glow that further ripening deepens until its crimson -flush becomes the loveliest hue of the British Columbia woods. - -The fireweed, or willow herb, that in July gives to the open spaces a -gorgeous tint of bluey pink, were now loosing a flock of seeds to float -away like tiny parachutes. Each small bit of fluff held a minute germ of -life that would build a plant as large as its parent when, dropped by -the friendly wind, it reaches a fertile spot. The stately cottonwood -were sending out a life-fluff as tiny as that from the smaller plants. -Thistles, cat-tails and asters hurried to join the silken clouds until -the air was misty with these germ balloons, seeking their winter’s rest. -The red elderberry and its magenta neighbour, the thimble berry, with -its truculent Scotch cap, gave to the woods a material flame. - -A curious timidity had come over the birds; not only were they quiet, -but they were no longer to be found in their usual haunts. In some -retired spot they were moulting. While the weather was at its best, and -food was the most plentiful, they were dressing themselves in a new set -of feathers for their long flight to the south. The tops of the tall -pines were filled with sweet twitterings, of flutterings out and in, -wing trails and quick short flights. A flock of waxwings had gathered -for the migration. They would not leave for some time yet, but the -change had come. Birds from the north had arrived, creeping south by -easy stages, taking plenty of time in their journey—the freest -creatures that live, staying or going as they feel inclined. - -Wild berries, dead ripe, hung on lush drooping branches. - -A soft “prut-prut-kwit-kwit” came from the leader of a covey of willow -grouse that were feeding on the tiny fruit of a crab-apple tree. The -call was answered by a shyer note from one of the young birds, who -probably was being taught the scale. - -The summer had been one of exceptional dryness. For weeks there had been -no rain, and a blazing hot sun had poured its fiery rays from a -cloudless sky. The heavy mountain dews could not penetrate the close -standing timber, and the carpet of needles and moss became dry as -tinder. A pall of smoke, from fires raging on the Coast, hung over lake -and mountain. - -For Wilkinson and his men these were anxious days. They covered the -section between the mill and Squamish twice a day; scanning the -hillsides and valleys, ever watchful, ever on the alert; pleading and -exhorting the settlers and loggers to greater vigilance, and all the -while praying fervently for rain. - -Donald had posted a notice that any employee found smoking in the woods -would be immediately dismissed. Logging creates a vast amount of débris, -or “slash,” as it is known to the men of the woods. With the assistance -of the Forestry men, Donald’s crew had piled enormous heaps of slash on -the hillside, awaiting a favourable opportunity to burn. These menacing -piles of brush, extending along the main road for a quarter of a mile, -were a constant source of danger. Every precaution, therefore, was -taken. The spaces between the mounds of brush were raked clean, the road -was patrolled day and night, and pails filled with water were placed at -regular intervals. Special notices stating the great danger of fire, and -warning not to smoke in this area, were posted conspicuously on tree and -stump. - -The mill at Cheakamus had closed. Sparks from the donkey engines had -threatened the extinction of both plant and timber. - -Donald with Wilkinson stood surveying the piles of dangerous waste. “If -a fire starts and we can get to it at once, we will be all O.K.” said -Wilkinson, “but if it ever gets away from us here,” pointing down the -road, “no human agency can stop it.” - -They made the rounds of the patrol to satisfy themselves that the -watchmen were attending to their duties. Leaving the main road, they -scrambled through the tangled masses of tree-tops to ascertain how far -distant the slash had been removed from the standing timber. Suddenly a -tiny wisp of smoke was seen to drift from behind a fir tree at the edge -of the clearing. Without comment, both men broke into a run. - -Aroused by the crashing footsteps, a young man, who had been lying -stretched lazily on the soft moss, came quickly to his feet, a cigarette -held in his fingers. His companion, also smoking, lay with his back -against the bole of a tree a few feet distant. Fishing-rods, creeks, -landing-nets and the remains of a lunch lay scattered on the ground. - -“Don’t you know better than to smoke here?” blazed Wilkinson. - -The fisherman brazenly replaced the cigarette between his lips. -Wilkinson’s arm shot forward like a flash to pluck the offending weed -from the mouth of the astonished youth. “I wish we had a law to prevent -smoking in the woods. I would take great pleasure in arresting you,” he -growled savagely as he pinched the fire from the cigarette and ground it -under his heel. - -Unnoticed by the Forest Ranger, the second man removed his cigarette -furtively and with a flirt of his hand threw it behind him as he rose to -his feet. - -“You are too damned officious! You have no authority to prevent us -smoking,” he said angrily, as with clenched fists he advanced -belligerently. - -Wilkinson was near the breaking point. The weeks of worry, the long -hours of arduous toil, and the lack of sleep had frayed his nerves. -“Damn you!” he flared, “if it’s a fight you want——” He broke off -suddenly, his eyes wide and staring. “My God! look!” he shouted. A flare -of flame shot from the spot where the cigarette had fallen. A breeze -rustled through the trees to fan the flame to a drumming roar as a pile -of slash caught fire. The Red Terror was loosed. - -“The alarm!” cried Wilkinson. - -“Fire!” shouted Donald as he stumbled to the road. - -“Fire!” repeated the nearest patrolman. - -“Fire!” rang the cry down the line until the call reached the mill, and -every whistle was loosed in a screaming bedlam of sound to blanch the -cheeks of these hardy men, who knew the awful terror of this -devastating, devouring, fiery scourge that blasts the wilderness with -smoke and ashes and takes its toll of both man and beast. Men dropped -their tools and ran to answer the call. - -The trapper’s dugout shot swiftly across the lake. - -Connie lay reading in the shade of her cabin. She came to her feet at -the whistle’s first call for help. A moment later, seated astride her -cayuse, she was galloping down the hill. - -Every man, regardless of position, answers the call to fight fire. When -a forest fire is raging the forest ranger is an absolute sovereign. He -can call the lawyer from his desk or the labourer from the ditch, but -seldom does he need to exercise this power, as every good citizen is -willing to help stay the deadly scourge. Meanwhile the fire was leaping -from heap to heap of the powder-like slash to cross the road and sweep -up the hill with incredible speed. With a throbbing roar it hissed to -the tree-tops and rushed up the mountain. Stifling smoke enveloped the -fire-fighters. Showers of burning bark pelted them from above. - -“To the mill!” Wilkinson shouted; “we can do nothing here.” - -The men at the mill filed silently to their stations, and the big hoses -poured torrents of water on roof and wall. Big jets curved up the hill -to drench the dry, hot earth. - -In short, quick sentences Wilkinson outlined his plans. - -“We will try to stop it on the north at the river, on the south with -fire-breaks, and at the track on the east by back-firing. On the west we -have to let the fire take its course until it burns itself out on the -cliff above.” His voice rose in sharp command as he sent the men to -their posts. Donald with twenty men under him was set to work digging a -fire-break on the south side. A “fire-break” is made by spading up the -leaf-mould and humus down to the mineral soil and raking all inflammable -material back from each side. - -The fire was advancing rapidly and the heat was terrific. Choking and -gasping in the stinging resinous smoke, the men strove in frenzy of -haste to complete the fire-break before the flames should reach them. - -A deer with a fawn at her heels came bounding in terror through the -screen of smoke. Grouse and song-birds made a common escape from a -common enemy feared by all. Rabbits, wild-eyed, scuttled in fear; -squirrels and chipmunks joined in the hurried flight. Many of these -smaller birds and animals would be flanked and lost. - -Connie, proud that she could be of assistance, dashed back and forth -carrying messages for Wilkinson to the different fronts. - -From up the mountain-side came a drumming roar and the rending crash of -trees as the fire undermined their roots. Sparks from burning tree-tops -crossed the fire-break and started other fires. To combat these, water -had to be carried up the steep hillside in pails. Andy was among those -delegated to this arduous task. For hours he staggered from stream to -hill and back again with a brimming pail in either hand. Scorched by sun -and fire, the perspiration streaming down his face and stinging his -eyes, the little hero stuck gamely to his task. - -“I ’ired on this ’ere job as a cook,” he grumbled, “not as a blinkin’ -water-spout. Strike me pink, if the water I’ve carried to-day was -sprinkled in ’ell the devil’d be out of a job. Oh, well,” he added -resignedly as he filled his pails and turned to again ascend the hill, -“as Methusalem said, ‘Every little bit ’elps!’ These two buckets myke -exactly four million, two ’undred and six gallons that I’ve carried this -d’y.” At this instant his foot caught in a root to send him sprawling on -his face rolling down the mossy hillside, the pails clattering after. He -lay where he had fallen, flat on his back, with arms outstretched. -“There,” he soliloquized, “_that_ was the wisp of straw that broke the -elephant’s back. To ’ell with the fire. Let the blighter burn.” - -Wilkinson came wearily down the hill. His face was blackened and -blistered, his hat gone, and his shirt a network from holes burned -through the cloth by flying sparks. He sprawled on all fours by the -stream, drank sparingly, then plunged his face in the cooling waters. - -“’Ello, Wilkie!” shouted Andy, “’ow would you like to ’ave a cold bottle -of beer?” - -Wilkinson seized a stone threateningly and glared at his tormentor. “Men -have been killed for less,” he growled huskily. - -“I s’y, Wilkie,” grinned Andy, “these Forestry jobs are a snap. Do you -’ave the nerve to collect a salary?” - -The district ranger was too tired for speech. His swollen face puckered -in a smile and he passed on up the hill, and Andy came stiffly to his -feet and resumed his never-ending task. - -Connie brought reports that the fire was being held on the north and -east. The fire-break on the south held, but spot-fires were kept in -check only by the almost superhuman efforts of the fire-fighters. - -Forest fires reach the peak of their intensity while the sun is hottest. -With darkness the wind subsides, and, especially in the mountains the -heavy dews are a never-failing help. - -The sun, showing blood-red through the smoke, now sank behind the hills -and a blessed coolness filled the air. The fire smouldered along the -fire-breaks, but the dreaded sparks were not flying. The trembling roar -diminished to a steady crackling where fallen trees were being steadily -consumed. - -The fire-fighters, their shoulders drooping, and wavering from sheer -weakness, plodded down the hill for well-earned food and rest. - -“You’ll have to be at it again at daylight,” said Wilkinson grimly. They -nodded a tired assent. Wilkinson and Donald with twelve men patrolled -the fire area throughout the night. - -The next morning broke sullenly in a dull haze. As the first streaks of -light heralded the coming of the new day, the fire-fighters again took -up their posts. Men from the other mill arrived, and another day of -battle with the fire demon was begun. An attempt was made to check it on -the west front, high up the mountain-side, where the fire had crept -through in the night to a small level plateau. At ten o’clock the wind -came suddenly, and with it the fire broke through on the south-west -corner with a deafening roar and rushed through a stand of dead trees -with ever-increasing speed. - -Donald shouted a quick cry of warning to the men who were in danger of -being cut off by this break. They came on the double quick, just in -time, as a lurid wall of flame shot up the hill over the path they had -traversed. - -“Are the men all out?” questioned Donald. - -“Andy isn’t here!” said one of the men excitedly. - -Donald seized the speaker’s arm. “Was Andy with you?” - -The man nodded. - -Donald’s face set in grim lines. Whirling quickly, he ran straight -toward the line of fire. With a bound Connie was on her horse and after -him at a swift trot. As he neared the screen of smoke, Pegasus changed -his gait to that of a mad runaway, and with the small rider lying prone -on his bare back disappeared from view. - -At this spot the fire had spent its fury in the first mad rush, but a -heavy smoke welled up from the charred ground. Terror possessed the -horse, but the calm voice of his mistress urged him on. Crimson embers -showered about her. Scorching heat fanned her face as if the doors of a -blast furnace had been opened. A blazing branch fell with a rushing -sound, barely missing the horse’s head. Sharp reports from the tree-tops -made the plucky cayuse shy in a panic of fear. - -Filled with apprehension, the crowd of fire-fighters stared with tense -anxiety into the drifting smoke. Then a glad cheer burst from them as -horse and rider emerged: Andy clinging to Connie’s stirrup, and Donald -swaying drunkenly in the rear. Ready hands held water to Andy’s parched -lips and bathed his hot face as he lay panting on the ground. He sat up -with an effort and looked about him. “Where’s Connie?” he asked. But -Connie had stolen quietly from the scene. - -By mid-afternoon the main body of the fire was apparently under control, -but the persistent spot-fires kept the entire crew engaged. A huge -cottonwood, standing just within the fire-breaks, was the chief -offender. Sparks from its lofty blazing top were floated by the breeze -to land on the dry ground, starting innumerable fires. - -“That tree will have to come down or we will be fighting spot-fires -indefinitely,” said Wilkinson. - -Silence fell. Everyone of those lumber-jacks knew the danger attached to -the falling of a rotten, blazing tree. In sound timber the skilled -“faller” can cut the scarf and drive the falling-wedge to lay the tree -within six inches of the desired spot. With a hollow tree the task is -much more difficult, as in the soft, decayed pulp the wedge may not -provide sufficient leverage to swing the enormous weight, and the tree -may crash from any angle. - -Men working at the butt of a burning tree, too, are exposed to the fall -of branches. Even a small bough, hurtling from the dizzy height of -lordly cottonwood or fir, will break a man’s limbs. - -Wilkinson picked up a falling saw. “Who will go with me?” he called. - -Gillis stepped forward with wedge and hammer. - -“Nothin’ doin’,” said little Blackie; “Wilkinson here has a wife and -kid, an’ Jack has brains enough to be our boss. Me and Hoop-la ain’t got -neither, we’re just a coupla roughnecks. Whadda you say, Hoop-la?” - -“Ye betcha,” came vigorously from Blackie’s pal. - -Two men were sent with them to assist in clearing a space at the foot of -the big snag. A few minutes later the twang of the cross-cut, mingled -with Blackie’s happy song, sounded above the crackling of the fire. - -Wilkinson pointed to the southern sky, where heavy nimbus clouds were -massing. “At last! The blessed rain is coming!” he cried in a voice of -thankfulness. - -A stronger gust swept through the valley to send a surge of flame from -the giant cottonwood’s topmost branches. There was a sharp cry of -warning as a limb broke off with a splinter-crash and came roaring to -the ground, sending up a swirl of dust. A strangled cry of pain, -animal-like in its intensity, cut the air. - -“Blackie’s hit,” screamed Hoop-la. - -Blackie lay on his face, his clothing afire, pinned down by the -shattered limb. With a heave of powerful shoulders Hoop-la flung the -crushing weight aside, and his big hands quickly smothered the fire in -the clothing of his fallen comrade. Gently he raised the stricken man in -his arms and bore him beyond the range of fire. - -“Blackie! Oh, Blackie! are you all right?” he questioned fearfully as he -looked down at the quiet face that held the grey pallor of death. - -“Call the doctor and bring a stretcher,” sharply ordered Wilkinson. - -Men hurried to do his bidding. When the stretcher bearers leaned to lift -the inanimate body, Hoop-la fiercely interfered. “Let him alone,” he -said savagely. Stooping, he picked up the light form and bore it down -the hill to their bed in the rough log shack. Donald forced a few drops -of brandy through the dying man’s colourless lips. Blackie stirred -feebly. His eyes flickered open and he smiled as he recognized Hoop-la. - -“Give me your hand,” he whispered faintly; “I’m runnin’ my last -high-lead, old pal. I guess God’ll be good to us roughnecks.” He gasped -painfully. The irregular breathing ceased; his eyes became fixed and -glassy; his jaw sagged. - -Hoop-la sat motionless, the hand of his dead friend held in his warm -clasp. Slowly his head dropped forward and his big frame shook with dry -racking sobs. Doctor Paul came in hurriedly. In answer to the look of -interrogation in Donald’s eyes, he shook his head sadly. - -Donald and Wilkinson tiptoed softly to the door. They were unashamed of -the tears that made furrows down their blackened cheeks. Sick at heart, -utterly overcome by this tragedy, Wilkinson sank dejectedly to a seat -outside the cabin door and covered his face with his hands. - -There came a sudden patter of raindrops that drummed on the roof of the -cabin. Wilkinson stood erect with arms stretched wide. “Rain!” he cried. -“The merciful rain! Thank heaven!” He stood with face upturned for an -interval, enjoying the pelting downpour, then turned to look in the -cabin door, a deep and brooding sadness in his bloodshot eyes. - -“Donald,” he said gently, “the newspaper account of this fire will -mention the fact that ‘a logger was killed.’ A logger!—yes—men like -Blackie are the backbone of this country, the salt of the earth. Will -people ever learn?” he continued, in a voice vibrant with deep emotion. -He pointed to the barkless skeletons of trees blackened and charred and -branchless save for the gibbet-like limbs stuck out from the naked -trunks. “Think of it! All this—the sniffing out of a valuable life—a -verdant hillside changed to a charnel-house of dead trees and blackened -stumps on bare rocks—the loss of thousands of dollars worth of valuable -timber—all this caused by the careless dropping of a lighted -cigarette!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - -Donald’s announcement that Labour Day would be celebrated at the Lake -was received with good-natured approval by the men of the camp, who -spoke of the coming event as the “dry” holiday. The rain, which had -brought such blessed relief to the hearts of the guardians of the -forest, had cleansed the air of the last vestige of haze that had -overhung the valley for the past month. - -The morning of the holiday dawned auspiciously. The hot days of August -had given place to the mellow sunshine of Indian summer. Through the -crystal clear atmosphere the mountains seemed much nearer, standing out -sharply against the blue sky. Near the top there had been a fresh fall -of snow that had covered the bare ice of the glaciers like a white -mantle. The brilliant rays of the September sun were reflected from this -virgin covering with a brilliancy that was dazzling to the eye. - -Janet arrived for the occasion, bringing with her a score of her -friends. All through the previous day the trail from the north had -brought strings of cayuses from the Indian Reserve, their dusky riders -gaily bedecked in holiday attire. “_Klahowya, tillicum!_” they shouted, -their coffee-coloured faces lighting up with a grin that betokened a -gala day spirit. Their tents dotted the lake-shore, their camp fires -glowing cheerfully throughout the night. - -The sports committee had arranged a varied list of events. A rowing race -between the two camps; a sack race, free for all; a baseball game -between the whites and the Indians; a sawing race in which two “buckers” -from each camp would participate; a hundred-yard dash; a log-rolling -contest between a man from the State of Maine and a citizen of New -Brunswick. But these were mere preliminaries to the real event of the -day, the much advertised horse-race. The men from the other camps, -arrayed in their “Sunday clothes” made their appearance early in the -day. - -Each camp brought its quota of sandwiches and cakes, but the brunt of -the work fell on Andy and his assistants, who piled tier upon tier of -sandwiches on the long tables under the willows by the lake-shore. The -lemonade was in half-barrels at each end of the tables, with a “help -yourself” sign attached. - -Old Klootchmen, with stolid, sombre faces, etched deep with -cross-hatching of wrinkles, walked through the throng laden with baskets -they were trying to sell. “Mika tika basket,” quavered their aged voices -as they held forth their wares. - -About eleven o’clock Mr. Wainwright appeared alone. - -“Where’s Connie?” asked Donald. - -“As you are aware, Mr. McLean, Connie is very shy. I could not induce -her to accompany me.” - -“That will never do,” said Donald quickly. “I am going after her.” - -“I am afraid that your trip will avail you nothing,” smiled Wainwright -in his absent-minded way. - -Donald borrowed a cayuse and set off up the trail. He hitched the horse -at the edge of the clearing and proceeded on foot down the path, his -shoes making no sound on the soft dark earth. As he turned a clump of -alders and came in view of the cabin he stopped short, arrested by a -sight that evidently elicited his amused interest. - -Connie stood outside the door before a small mirror hung on the rough -log walls of the house. She was attempting to place her heavy hair in a -knob at the top of her head. A page cut from a magazine was tacked to a -log near the mirror. She studied the photograph carefully, then returned -to the attack with renewed vigour. But she could not get it to suit her. -She tried and tried, but the heavy shining coils would elude her slender -fingers and fall in a golden cascade over her slight shoulders. Her -efforts to reach a satisfactory result brought her to the verge of -tears. She stamped her little foot impetuously. At last she got it -arranged in a fair semblance to that of the envied actress. The effect -was so startling that Donald fairly gasped. The child of the moment -before was transformed, as if by a fairy’s wand, to a woman of wondrous -grace and beauty. - -Connie perked her head saucily, then half smiled to show her small -milk-white teeth; apparently she was pleased with the reflection she saw -in the glass. From the clothes-line she took a flour sack that had been -split open and washed to be used for drying dishes. Draping this from -her waist-line, she pinned it securely. Assuming a haughty pose, she -walked past the mirror with a sinuous, undulating movement. The little -artist was so perfect in her mimicry that Donald’s lips involuntarily -formed the word “Janet.” Twice she passed before the tiny mirror with a -regal step, her head turning with its characteristic bird-like motion to -catch the reflection. - -Gradually the queenly pose slipped from her. She stopped abruptly, -throwing out her arms with a forlorn gesture. Her golden head fell -forward. Two big tears welled from her blue eyes and ran down the small -freckled nose. Her small hands plucked convulsively at her faded blue -overalls. A sob like a stab [of] pain shook her slender body. One arm -came up slowly to cover her tear-wet face as she threw herself face -forward on the grass. Her slender shoulders were shaking with such an -agony of weeping that Donald’s throat felt constricted and his eyes grew -suddenly dim. - -Her spotted cayuse, grazing nearby, raised his head at the sound of -Connie’s hysterical sobbing and moved to the small figure of his -mistress. With ears bent forward and a look of bewilderment in his soft -eyes, he nuzzled her neck with his velvety nose. The sobbing continued, -but her brown hand came up to pat his head lovingly. - -Donald tiptoed softly back to the trail. He stood for some time with his -hand on the saddle, his head bowed in deep thought. “Poor little kid,” -he said gently, then whistling a lively tune, he slowly retraced his -steps to the cabin. He entered the clearing just in time to see Connie -as she disappeared in the timber across the field. He did not want her -to know that he was aware of her flight, so he knocked loudly on the -door and shouted her name. A raven croaked derisively from the top of a -dead tree. The pony raised his head to eye him silently. Connie’s pet -deer came around the corner of the barn, a look of gentle questioning in -her beautiful big eyes. - -Donald rode slowly back to camp. Connie’s distress had touched his -heart; her heart-breaking sobs were still ringing in his ears. “It is -not that Wainwright does not love his daughter,” mused Donald. “It must -be that he is very poor. - -“Don’t see how I can help,” his thoughts ran on. “One can’t very well -suggest to a father that he buy clothes for his child.” - -Andy rang the lunch-bell, and there was a wild but good-natured scramble -for the tables. - -A long table had been arranged in the big dining-room for the officials -and Janet’s party to which Donald had invited Mr. Wainwright. - -“Did you find Connie?” queried Wainwright. - -“No,” lied Donald, “I couldn’t find her.” - -Janet’s friends were having a merry time. There was laughter, jesting -and gay repartee from all sides. Douglas was in his element, his quips -and brilliant sallies keeping the diners in a continual uproar. - -As Donald glanced around the big table at the laughing faces of the gay -party, he tried to visualize Connie dressed as one of these -fashionably-clad girls who represented Vancouver’s “younger set.” The -vision he conjured caused him to smile dreamily. - -Janet had manœuvred to secure a seat beside Donald. In spite of all her -artful contriving, she had been unable to have more than a few words -with her father’s busy general superintendent since her arrival. She -noticed the dreamy smile on his face and wondered what could be the -cause. - -“You seem rather distraught,” she said with an arch smile, her dark eyes -fixed on his face. “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?” - -“Oh yes,” he replied absently. - -“You were gone for some time this morning,” she stated. - -“Yes,” he concurred, “I went up to bring Connie.” - -“Oh!” - -Janet’s fine eyebrows lifted slightly, and she looked at Donald with a -curious intentness. “Why didn’t she come?” - -“She wasn’t home.” - -Her woman’s intuition long ago had told her that the “wood-sprite”—as -Donald called Connie—was madly in love with him. As she looked at him -now and noticed his pre-occupied air, a pang of jealousy shot through -her heart like an arrow. Was it possible that he had begun to realise -that the wild girl of the woods was not a child, and that a love for her -had been kindled in his heart? The thought made her feel faint and she -tried to put it from her mind. - -Lunch was finished now and they were walking back to the lake. Douglas -invited the party to take a trip around the lake in a motor-boat, to -which they assented gleefully. - -Janet hesitated as Donald turned away with Wainwright. “Aren’t you -coming, Mr. McLean?” she called. - -Donald turned and shook his head. “I may be needed here,” he said -briefly. - -Janet flushed to the roots of her dark hair and bit her lip in anger. -She was not used to being thwarted in her desires. - -Donald and Wainwright seated themselves on a bench under the willows and -lighted cigarettes. Donald was ill at ease. The sound of Connie’s tragic -sobbing was ringing in his ears. He could see her little figure writhing -on the ground in a tempest of grief that had torn at his heart-strings. -He sprang involuntarily to his feet and began pacing the ground with -quick, nervous strides. Wainwright glanced up at him interrogatively. - -“You seem worried,” he volunteered. - -“I am,” Donald admitted briefly. - -“Can I assist you in any way?” - -Donald was in a welter of indecision. How should he broach this delicate -subject? Although poor as the proverbial church-mouse, Connie’s father -had the pride of Lucifer. There was natural dignity in his bearing, a -certain aloofness in his manner, that in no way interfered with his -unfailing courtesy, but had always precluded exchange of intimacies. He -had resided in this wilderness for many years, but none could say that -they had any more knowledge of his affairs at this moment than on the -day of his arrival. - -Donald decided to take the plunge. He sat down on the bench beside -Connie’s father and related the scene he had witnessed that morning—of -Connie’s preening before the mirror with the magazine page pinned to the -logs; of the struggle with her hair; of the flour sack, and of the -piteous sobbing of the heart-broken child. - -Wainwright’s face flushed painfully. There was a look of poignant -suffering in his grave eyes. Of all the races in the world, the -English—especially of the better class—fight most stoically to hide -their distress. - -Wainwright leaned forward, his throat working convulsively as he -struggled to regain composure. - -“I hope you do not consider me presumptuous,” said Donald, a note of -anxiety in his tone. - -Wainwright’s hand reached forth to clasp Donald’s firmly. “No, I do not -doubt your sincerity. An inordinate sense of pride has kept me in my -present circumstances. This circumstance you have related has brought me -to a realization that it is a selfish pride, as it has denied Connie the -privileges to which she is entitled. There is nothing I can say,” he -went on in bitter self-condemnation, “that can even partially condone or -palliate my stupidity. I should have known that she would require proper -clothing now that she is grown up. As a matter of fact”—he paused, his -distress acute—“my finances are at a very low ebb.” - -“How old is Connie?” asked Donald, hoping to relieve Wainwright’s -embarrassment. - -“Nineteen.” - -Donald’s head came up with a jerk. “What!” he almost shouted. - -“She is nineteen,” Wainwright reiterated, a peculiar expression in his -eyes as he noticed Donald’s bewilderment. - -“Nineteen!” Donald re-echoed, a bemused look on his face. “Great Scot! -This is a surprise. I thought of Connie as being not more than fourteen -or fifteen.” - -“Connie’s healthful outdoor life has tended to keep her young, and her -mode of dressing enchances the youthful effect,” said her father as he -sat down wearily, a far-away look in his eyes. “Her mother,” he went on -softly, a tremor in his voice, “was just like her; at the age of -twenty-five she looked almost a child.” He turned to Donald. “No doubt -you have wondered why I buried myself in this wilderness?” - -Donald nodded. At this moment they were interrupted by members of the -Sports Committee, who wanted Donald’s advice on a matter pertaining to -the afternoon’s programme. - -It was evident to Donald as he withdrew that Wainwright had been about -to disclose his past history, a history which had been locked in his -heart these many years. - -At three o’clock the crowd began drifting toward the race-course. The -centre of the valley had been cleared of under-brush, and the long grass -burned under the watchful eye of the fire-ranger. A small creek and a -few swampy places had been “corduroyed” with cedar poles and then -covered with soil. A judges’ stand, with a few hastily erected seats for -Janet’s party, stood near the finishing point. The horse-race, as has -been said, was to be the feature event of the day. The crowd surged -happily from the lake-shore to line up in orderly ranks about the oval. - -The brilliant and diversified colours of the Klootchmen’s skirts and -head-gear showed in bright contrast to the drab wearing apparel of the -white men. The Siwash Indians were dressed in nondescript clothing as to -trousers and coat, but one and all wore side-brimmed cowboy hats and -displayed silk handkerchiefs of gorgeous hues, knotted at the throat to -drape their shoulders carelessly. - -Three husky farmers’ sons from Pemberton rode to the starting-line amid -hearty hand-clapping and shouting from their friends. A swarthy-skinned -rider, mounted on a spirited black cayuse, came prancing through the -crowd. He lifted his hat and smiled in acknowledgment of the plaudits of -the spectators. This was Joe Lafonte, the half-breed who had won first -prize at the Lillooet races for the past two seasons. - -The wise ones averred that Paul John, of the Indian contingent, would -give him a hard race. Paul John’s cayuse was young, but the previous -year he had run the half-breed’s horse a close second. Money was being -placed on all sides, particularly by the Indians, who are inveterate -gamblers. Amid an excited babble in Chinook, nine Indian riders came -laughing and shouting, with much waving of hats, to prance about and -display their horsemanship before the admiring crowd. - -Donald, with Andy, Gillis and Wainwright, stood leaning over the edge of -the judges’ stand watching the animated scene below. - -At this moment there was an agitation at the far end of the oval, where -the crowd opened to admit a horse and rider that came tearing down the -course like the wind. - -“Look!” Donald shouted excitedly as he seized Wainwright’s arm. “It’s -Connie!” - -Down the course, riding like a spirit of the woods, came the girl, her -golden hair blowing about her face, sitting astride her mettlesome horse -and riding as if the wilderness belonged to her alone. - -Pegasus was not used to crowds. With arched neck and quivering flanks he -reared on his hindlegs to poise an instant, then leaped forward like a -rabbit. Connie sat on the bare back of her adored cayuse as though a -part of the animal, her slender body moving in gentle undulations in -perfect co-ordination with the movements of the horse. She was hard set -to keep from running over the other riders, who sat with mouths agape. - -Connie was unknown to the greater part of the crowd. To them this -child-like equestrienne, with her mass of shining hair, appeared as an -apparition. Her firm little hands soon checked her turbulent mount, who -stood trembling with nervousness. The crowd gave her a rousing welcome -as soon as they had recovered from their astonishment. - -“Who is she? Where does she come from?” they shouted. - -Connie kept her eyes fixed on the ground. She was outwardly calm and -serene; inwardly she was as nervous as her fretting cayuse, and did not -dare raise her flushed face to meet the battery of eyes around her. - -Donald turned to Wainwright. “Are you going to let her run? Is it safe -for her to enter a race with all those men?” - -“I couldn’t stop her now, and besides,” he added with a touch of pride, -“she can hold her own with any of them.” - -The old trapper made his way to Donald’s side. His leathery old face, -with its multitudinous wrinkles, wore a perturbed expression. “That -feller Lafonte is cultus. He’s full of dirty tricks; ’tain’t safe for -Connie to ride.” - -Donald turned anxiously to Wainwright. - -Connie’s father shook his head. “I am afraid it is too late now.” Then -in a lower voice he added: “You must know the reason for her entering -this race.” - -Donald looked puzzled for an instant. Suddenly it dawned on him. “The -purse?” - -Wainwright nodded. “It would break her heart if I forbade her to ride, -now that she has gone this far. She must have decided suddenly, as she -never mentioned it to me.” - -The Rennie Company had put up a purse of two hundred and fifty dollars. -There was to be a collection taken after the race to add to this purse. - -The horses trotted down the course. Connie’s was rearing and prancing, -and it was with difficulty that she managed to get him to join the -others. She leaned forward to whisper words of quieting in his twitching -ears. Down the course they came. They were in nice alignment as they -passed the judges’ stand. - -“Go!” - -Connie on her spotted cayuse showed as a bright splash of colour in the -midst of her darker competitors. - -Lafonte’s dark face lighted with a savage gleam as he swung his horse to -the inside or “pole.” - -Running neck and neck with him was his hated rival, Paul John, leaning -low on his horse’s neck and shouting unintelligibly in Chinook. Connie -was with the stragglers five lengths in the rear. This was new to -Pegasus, and he was bewildered by the crowding horses about him. As they -turned the corner of the course, Lafonte’s horse stumbled, and before he -righted Paul John had slipped into the lead. Cursing wildly, Lafonte -settled himself in the saddle, his horse’s head at the flank of his -rival. - -Hundreds of times Pegasus had travelled this field with Connie clinging -to his back, slowing up for shrubs and trees and making sudden bursts of -speed in the open. That had been vastly different to being surrounded by -running horses and listening to the wild cries of their riders and the -roaring of the excited crowd. - -At the moment Lafonte lost the point of vantage to his rival, Connie -leaned forward and emitted a peculiar clucking sound, at the same time -striking her moccasined feet into the horse’s sides. Pegasus’s ears -twitched back at the sound of the voice he loved. “Now I know what you -want,” he seemed to say, as his beautiful neck stretched out and his -hoofs spurned the ground. His graceful body lowered until it appeared to -the spectators as though he were just skimming the earth. He moved with -a springy stride, the muscles of his sinewy frame working with a sliding -movement beneath the glossy skin. Gradually he drew away from the horses -travelling with him. Foot by foot he crawled up on the leaders. - -The party in the judges’ stand came to their feet to shout approval. The -girls were cheering wildly for Connie as she crept nearer the front. - -Donald was leaning forward with flushed face, his eyes glued to the -spotted cayuse, a deep admiration in his heart for the intrepid little -rider. - -Little Andy jumped on the rail. “Strike me pink!” he yelled, “look at -that ’oss run!” His eyes were bright with excitement. “A ’undred dollars -on the spotted ’oss!” he shouted hysterically. - -“I’ll take you,” said a voice. - -“’Ere you are, mate; let’s make ’er two ’undred. I’m for me ’ome girl. -She saved me blinkin’ life, God bless ’er!” - -As they neared one of the corduroy bridges Connie was neck and neck with -Lafonte. The latter glanced up as Pegasus came opposite. The roar of the -crowd came dimly to Connie’s ears above the swish of air and the rumble -of hoofs as they struck the culvert. An evil look crossed the -half-breed’s face. He swung his horse sharply to the right. Connie’s -horse floundered. Struggling to right himself, he fell off the bridge -and landed with a dull thud on the soft ground below. The forward motion -of the cayuse had stopped so suddenly that Connie was thrown like a -projectile to a clump of bushes fifteen feet distant. - -For an instant the big crowd was paralyzed. Then there went up a great -groan of horror. The old trapper came to his feet, his eyes flaming, a -hectic flush on his cheeks. Like a flash his hand flew to his -six-shooter, and the long-barrelled Colt was trained on Lafonte. As he -pulled the trigger Douglas struck his arm and the bullet sped harmlessly -over the horseman’s head. - -“My God!” - -The words whistled through the set teeth of big Jack Gillis. “Let me get -at him!” he cried hoarsely, as, pale of face, he struggled through the -crowd. He would have thrown himself in front of the oncoming rider if -strong hands had not clutched and held him. Connie’s father fell back a -step as if struck a sudden blow, his eyes wide and staring. Andy’s head -fell forward, and he groaned aloud. Janet covered her face with her -hands and sat down weakly. - -Donald leaned from the judges’ stand, his face pale as death. A vision -of Connie’s broken body came before his eyes. “Oh, God!” he cried aloud -in a voice vibrant with pain. He covered his eyes as though in dread of -looking at the spot where she had fallen. - -A shout came from the crowd—then a cheer that seemed to rock the hills. -“Look! look!” they shouted. - -Donald’s heart was beating tumultuously. Could he believe his eyes? -Connie was standing upright. She appeared to sway slightly; then, like a -flash, she was at her horse’s head. - -Trembling and snorting, Pegasus came to his feet. With a bound she was -on his back and seized the reins. Pegasus reared like a stag and was off -down the course at the tail end of the race. - -As Connie passed the judges’ stand she was well up with the tail-riders -and gaining steadily. Her face was pale and tense. A smear of red showed -on her arm, and a little stream of blood trickled down her forehead from -the wound invisible in the thickness of her hair. - -The crowd became suddenly quiet as Connie thundered past—a silent -tribute to her glorious pluck. But as she crept toward her original -position they roared their applause. Pegasus was showing an endurance -and speed that had never been equalled in all of that district. As they -turned to come down the home-stretch Connie was a good fifty yards -behind the leaders. Lafonte’s wiry cayuse was again in the lead by a few -feet. - -The shock and strain were beginning to tell on Connie. She leaned -forward and in a broken, trembling voice she cried: “Oh, Peggy! Win, -Peggy! Please! Please! I don’t want to lose! I’ve got to win! Go! Go!” -She was sobbing hysterically now, and her small hands were patting the -horse’s neck. - -Pegasus had never heard that tone of supplication in the sweet voice of -his mistress before. Nobly he responded to the call. She felt his body -lower under her as he set himself to the herculean task of overcoming -his rival’s enormous lead. - -Lafonte was using the whip. Paul John, hanging so persistently to his -flank, angered him. They thundered across the corduroy, and at the sound -of Pegasus’s hoofs on the cedar poles Lafonte turned to glance behind. A -look of astonishment crossed his face as he saw the golden-haired rider -so close. With a curse he struck his horse a brutal blow that caused the -animal to lose its stride momentarily and fall back in line with Paul -John. - -Slowly, but surely, Connie’s spotted cayuse was closing the gap between -himself and the two leaders, sweeping along at a terrific pace, his body -and limbs moving with the rhythmic grace of a thoroughbred. Connie was -leaning so low that the heavy white mane of her horse was brushing her -face. Her hair was streaming in the wind like fine-spun gold. The party -in the judges’ stand rushed to the railing, leaned anxiously forward to -get a glimpse of the running horses as they turned the corner, and -cheered lustily as the three riders thundered over the small bridge and -came toward the finishing line. Connie was at Lafonte’s flank now. - -Pegasus’s remarkable speed fanned the spectators’ excitement to a fever -heat. Andy had done so much shouting that his voice was reduced to a -whisper. Standing on the top rail, his arms waving, he was shouting -huskily, “Come on, Connie! Come on, Connie!” - -Donald’s dark eyes were glowing as he watched the slender figure -clinging to the flying horse’s bare back. “What a pity if she loses,” he -said under his breath. Leaping to the rail, he joined in the shouts of -encouragement to the straining Pegasus. - -With one hundred yards to go, Connie uttered one last appeal to her -flying steed. Above the drumming of hoofs the spectators heard her voice -ring in passionate entreaty. “Now, Peg! Now! Go! Go!” - -With nostrils distended, his breath coming in choking gasps, his eyes -bulging, and the voice of his adored mistress ringing in his ears, the -gallant animal with a burst of speed that made the onlookers marvel, -ranged himself alongside his labouring rivals. - -Ten yards from the finish—five yards—they were neck and neck. Then, -summoning his last ounce of strength, Pegasus leaped forward as though -he would annihilate time and distance. With eyes nearly blinded with -dirt, tears and the roaring air, Connie saw Pegasus hurl himself past -the winning post—a winner by half a length! - -The ear-splitting roar that went up from the race-mad crowd must have -caused the marmots on the slides near the distant glaciers to seek their -holes in terror. A flock of mallard ducks, which had floated peacefully -near the centre of the placid lake throughout the day’s commotion, rose -with frightened cries to seek a more secluded spot in which to finish -their afternoon’s siesta. - -The crowd had seemingly gone mad. The atmosphere pulsated with a wild -tumult of sound. Hats were thrown in air and throats were strained with -shouting. - -Donald found himself with his arms about Andy, dancing and cheering in a -frenzy of joy. - -Connie made no attempt to check her cayuse’s onward flight. She was in -no mood to listen to the kudos of the admiring crowd; she wanted only to -get away from the scene as quickly as possible. The movement toward the -centre gave her the opportunity she desired, and she urged the weary -cayuse through an opening on her left. Many hands were reached up to -congratulate her, but she pushed her way through to the trail. - -At the sound of hoof-beats behind her she turned to see Lafonte urging -his tired mount toward the Pemberton trail and looking back -apprehensively over his shoulder. - -Several men were running after him, shaking their fists and uttering -loud imprecations. A man leaped from behind a jack-pine to land in the -path in front of the half-breed, lunged for the reins, missed, then -caught the stirrup. Lafonte struck the man a blow with his heavy whip -that loosened his hold and felled him to the ground. - -Connie saw Gillis break from the crowd, jump to the saddle of a cayuse -and start after the fleeing man just as the latter disappeared in the -woods. Gillis waved his hand to her and vanished in pursuit. She urged -Pegasus to the shelter of the timber as she saw her father and Donald -running toward her. - -The strenuous race and the spectacular fall had left both horse and -rider in a badly shaken condition. Connie’s body was bruised and sore, -and her head ached horribly. The cayuse’s strained muscles were -stiffening, he was limping badly, and his head drooped wearily as he -dragged his tired limbs up the steep trail. - -At the barn door Connie dismounted stiffly, removed the horse’s bridle, -then threw her arms passionately around his neck and stroked his -symmetrical head with soft caresses. “I’m so sorry, Peggy darling,” she -said in a choking voice. - -The horse nipped her shoulder in a weak attempt at playfulness, as if to -signify that he quite understood. - -Connie’s eyes brightened at a sudden thought. “Peggy dear,” she -whispered softly as she nestled her cheek against his soft mane, “do you -know that I can have some nice clothes now? Lots and lots of nice -things. I am going to buy you a blanket—a nice thick one for -winter—and some ribbons for your mane. And you, Peggy”—with a flood of -tenderness in her voice—“you won all this for me.” - -She was crooning sweet nothings in his ear that only Pegasus could -understand when her father appeared, breathless from running, his face -grey and anxious. - -“Are you all right, Constance darling?” - -Connie stepped forward. She was pale and weak, but her colourless lips -tried to form a smile. - -“Yes, Daddy dear—I’m—all—ri——” Her voice trailed to a whisper and -the blue eyes closed as darkness fell upon her like a cloud. Swaying -uncertainly for an instant, she fell like a broken flower into her -father’s outstretched arms. For the first time in her life Connie had -fainted. She lay like a child in his trembling arms, her upturned face -wearing the pallor of death. - -With a prayer on his lips and an agony of fear in his heart, her father -carried her to the cabin and tenderly stretched the bruised little body -on the coarse blankets of her bunk. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - -At the race-course the crowd eddied excitedly about the judges’ stand, -or stood in groups talking of the wonderful performance of the spotted -cayuse that had made the erstwhile champion appear a mere tyro. - -Gillis came riding slowly from the woods and was hailed by questioning -shouts from a score of throats. - -“Did you get him?” - -A bloody handkerchief was wrapped around the big man’s hand, and a livid -welt showed on his forehead. He smiled grimly as he dismounted, “I got -the d——d skunk,” he answered savagely. - -He turned to a group of Indians. “You fellers’d better look out for him -when you go along; his eyesight’s kinda bad.” - -Donald came to the front of the judges’ stand and held up his hand for -silence. Gradually the hum of voices died away and the crowd turned to -face him. - -“As you know, we are to take up a collection to add to the Company’s -purse. The gentleman below,” pointing down at Andy, “will hold the hat. -We have witnessed an exhibition of matchless skill and pluck. Give as -you feel.” - -The crowd cheered lustily. Then, jostling each other good-naturedly like -a lot of school-boys, they formed in a long queue. - -Andy started the contribution by giving his whole roll of bills. Money -showered upon him until he was forced to call for another hat. - -“Fightin’” Jack came to Donald in great perturbation. “Say! Our gang’s -all stony broke. Can we sign a due-bill?” - -Donald called the time-keeper. - -“Make her out for twenty bucks for each of us,” said “Fightin’” Jack. - -Andy’s spirits soared as the pile rose higher. - -“God bless ’er little ’eart,” he murmured, “she can ’ave an ’ole -shipload of them blinkin’ camisole things.” - -An hour later, as Donald climbed the hill to deliver the prize, he met -Doctor Paul. - -“How is she, Doctor?” - -“She’s had a nasty shaking up, but there are no bones broken. She will -have to remain in bed for a week or so.” - -Wainwright saw Donald coming and stepped outside the door to meet him. -“She’s sleeping,” he said in a low tone. He looked questioningly at -Donald as the latter passed him the package of money. - -“The prize money,” Donald explained. - -Wainwright peeped at the contents and his face lit up with pleased -astonishment. “I understood that the purse was to be a small one!” - -When Donald told him of the collection, Wainwright’s face flushed hotly. -“Is that the custom?” he questioned sharply. - -Donald nodded. - -Wainwright paced nervously with hands clasped behind his back. “Pardon -my abrupt manner,” he said contritely, “I am a bit out of sorts to-day.” - -Every evening Donald called at the Wainwright home, bringing little -delicacies carefully prepared by Andy. Once he spoke to Connie from -outside the door, and her answering voice gave him an odd thrill. He -pondered over this as he made his way down the hill. He was struck by a -sudden thought. His face broke into a smile and he shrugged his -shoulders. “Nonsense,” he said aloud. - -Janet remained several days after her friends had returned to the city. -She had tried in vain to restore the familiar relations which formerly -existed between herself and Donald. His evening visits to the cabin on -the mountain deprived her of his company, and she, half-jestingly, -reproved him for his inattention to her. With spirits depressed and a -despondent look in her dark eyes, Janet returned to Vancouver. - -One evening Wainwright gave Donald a letter to post, addressed to a big -departmental store in Vancouver. A few days later there arrived numerous -bundles and boxes, including a big trunk. Donald with the assistance of -Gillis’s crew carried them up the hill. - -“I’ve brought your big trunk with the ‘bulgy top,’ Miss Wainwright,” he -called. - -Connie sat up in her bunk so quickly that her head bumped the boards -above. “Miss Wainwright” he had called her! Her eyes glowed in the dusky -half-light. “Thank you so much,” she replied. - -The next day Wainwright informed Donald that Connie was up and would see -him. - -“Just a minute, Dad,” she cried as she heard them approaching. - -Feverishly she rushed to the small mirror to glance at her reflection. -With nervous hands she fluffed the hair about her ears and smoothed -imaginary wrinkles from the collar of her dress. Then she sat down -gravely and arranged her skirts about her. - -“Come in,” she called. - -Donald followed Wainwright, his heart-beats peculiarly accelerated. For -an instant he could not distinguish objects in the dim interior. Then -his eyes rested on Connie, sitting demurely in the corner. She wore a -gingham dress of blue, with white collar and cuffs. A dark belt was -fastened snugly at her slender waist. Tiny high-heeled shoes peeped from -below the hem of her skirt. Her beautiful hair hung down her back in a -huge braid that fastened at the nape of her slim, round neck with a -narrow black bow. She rose and crossed the room to meet him, her high -heels making her lithe little body appear much taller. There was -something fragile about her beauty, some of the colour gone from her -cheeks, and just a hint of shadows under her eyes. - -Donald held out his hand. “Good evening, I’m glad to see that you are -better,” he said awkwardly. - -A slender, warm hand crept timidly into his, and his fingers closed on -it gently as on a flower. He stared down at her, thrilled by her -loveliness. She raised her eyes with their bewilderingly long lashes -slowly to his face. With a sudden leaping of his heart, Donald realized -that he was in love. - -They talked desultorily while Connie sat timidly on the edge of the -uncomfortable chair. She could not feel at ease in the high, narrow -shoes and the enveloping skirts. And as she essayed to cross the rough -floor with an assumed air of ease, her ankle turned and she would have -fallen had not Donald caught her in his arms. - -As he raised her to her feet she blushed furiously, and he fancied he -could feel the warm beating of her heart. With an embarrassed apology, -she slipped from him, crossed to the table and lighted a candle. And -presently he took his leave, Wainwright walking with him down the -darkening trail. - -Wainwright was in one of his brooding moods. For a few minutes he was -silent. As they neared the bluff he spoke. - -“After witnessing my daughter’s distress the morning of the race I am -afraid that you feel harshly toward me for allowing her to be placed in -such a humiliating position. You have been exceedingly kind to us; -therefore, I feel that I should relate the circumstances which have -placed me in my present position. As I told you that day, I have allowed -my pride to withhold from my daughter her inherited rights. I will be as -brief as possible. - -“My father, who took great pride in the family name, planned a political -career for me even from the day of my birth. By natural taste and -temperament I was quite unfitted for public life. I must have been a -great trial to him, as from early boyhood I evinced a great love for the -study of botany and ornithology. He would go into a red rage when he -found me in the garden studying flowers under a microscope or stalking -birds in the shrubbery. - -“At college I was not a success, either socially or in my class. Always -of a retiring nature, I did not enter social life or college sports, and -the course of study set for me by my father bored me extremely. - -“During my third year at college I met Connie’s mother. Until that time -no woman had entered my life, although my father had hinted his plans -for my marriage as soon as I had finished my course. - -“To me any flower shop, however small, acted as a magnet. One day I -stood gazing in the window of a tiny florist’s shop on the Strand. A -girl was kneeling among the flowers, and as she lifted her head our eyes -met. She was like a golden lily. Her hair was like Connie’s hair, and -the blue of her eyes was the blue of the pansies she held in her hand. -And her name was Constance.” - -He paused for an instant. - -“Her father, who had been a rector in a small parish in the south of -England, died just previous to our meeting, leaving his motherless child -without kith or kin. Lest I weary you I may say briefly that we were -married. My father would not even grant me an interview, but wrote to me -saying that marrying as I had done had barred me forever from his door. -I did not care. I was happy—completely, supremely happy. I sold a small -estate bequeathed to me by my mother, and we set out for British -Columbia. - -“Ah!” he breathed softly, “that voyage! We could not afford it, but we -travelled first-class—it was our honeymoon and we were young. We had -never been to sea before, and the novelty of it all wove a spell about -us. As we walked the deck we talked joyously of our wonderful future in -the mysterious Great West. - -“Our first year in Vancouver was one of blessed content. There is no -love that could be greater than ours. Clerical work was scarce, so I -took any job that offered. I would come home black with coal-dust or -white with lime, and my wife would cry out merrily as she threw herself -into my arms. We turned our hardships into jests.” - -A smile of infinite tenderness played about his eyes as memory recalled -the golden days with the woman he loved. - -“The next winter I was taken grievously ill. I lay helplessly on my back -while my tender wife tramped from house to house teaching painting and -music. Day after day through all kinds of weather she made her daily -rounds to keep us in the bare necessities of life, and pay the doctor’s -bills.” - -Wainwright’s voice sank and almost failed him for a moment. Recovering -himself, he resumed his story. - -“She would come home at night, tired and worn, to fall asleep in a chair -by my bedside, while I raved in a fever. She went without food to buy -dainties for me. She never lost her cheery smile—but it killed her! She -died giving birth to—to—Constance.” - -Tears rose to his eyes, and for a moment he covered them with his hand. -With a great effort he continued. - -“I became embittered, changed completely out of any semblance to my -former self. I cursed my father. I cursed the world. I would have -welcomed death, but as I looked down at the tiny mite by my dead wife’s -side, I knew that I must fight to live. - -“A short time after, I received from my father a letter in which he -asked my forgiveness. I was unfitted to make my own way in the world, -yet my father had turned me brutally away. My wife had died from -overwork and lack of food. I wrote to him in a black rage a letter that -must have scorched his soul. - -“For four years I eked out a miserable existence in the City. My health -broke down again, and my doctor warned me that I must get to a higher -altitude. I learned of this place, turned everything into cash, and came -here, bringing Connie with me. - -“My sole income has been derived from writing articles on Nature for the -newspapers and magazines. Several times my father has advertised in the -newspapers, asking me to return. I read of his death two weeks ago. For -Constance’s sake, I am going to start for England to-morrow.” - -Wainwright’s head drooped listlessly as he concluded his story. All -energy, all strength of bearing, seemed to have gone from him. The -bitter remembrances he had voiced had brought a look of mental anguish -to his face. He stood staring mutely before him. - -Donald’s heart ached for this man, whose great love for his wife was as -passionate at this moment as when she was living. “How he loved her!” he -thought. - -When Wainwright spoke again his voice was spiritless. “You are the first -person to whom I have spoken of my past; even Constance does not know.” -As he turned to leave Donald gripped his hand in silence, but with a -pressure eloquent of heart-felt sympathy. - -Andy had noticed Donald’s increasing interest in Connie and had wisely -refrained from accompanying him on his nightly visits. On this -particular night Donald came into the kitchen whistling a lively air, -his face wreathed in smiles. He slapped Andy heartily on the back as he -asked him for a lunch. His gaiety was so pronounced that Andy studied -him closely. - -“You look ’appy, Donnie,” he remarked. - -“I am, Andy; I’m the happiest man in the world.” - -He finished eating, then sat staring dreamily at the smoke of his -cigarette as it circled about his head. Andy discoursed lightly on -various subjects, but Donald did not seem to hear him. After he left -Andy heard him singing merrily in his cabin. - -“Strike me pink, but I do ’ope Donnie has waked up! What a pair, what a -pair!” he said to himself. - -In the morning Donald rode north on the gas-car to the scene of logging -operations near the upper lake. He left orders with the men to bring -Wainwright’s baggage to the station. What Connie’s absence would mean -was brought forcibly to him as he met the trapper leading Pegasus and -her pet deer down the trail to his cabin. - -Two hours later Connie and her father stood on the station platform. -Connie was dressed in an inexpensive blue suit, and wore a neat blue hat -with a jaunty feather. Her golden hair was piled high in loops and coils -that held a sheen of brightness like the shine of metal where the sun -touched it. She appeared mystified and confused as the time for the -train to pull out drew near. Andy, standing by her side, cursed softly -as he saw her looking toward the mill, a look of poignant disappointment -in her eyes. - -“Donald ’ad to go up the line, Connie; guess something ’as ’appened,” he -mumbled. - -At that moment Donald was heaping opprobrium on a recalcitrant gas-car -that had died on his hands. - -The conductor called “All aboard!” Connie turned to Andy. “Good-bye, -Andy,” she said sweetly, her eyes swimming with tears. - -Andy took her gloved hand. “Good-bye, Connie,” he returned, attempting a -brave smile. “When are you coming back?” - -“Maybe never.” She choked as she stumbled up the car steps. - -As the train started to move Connie came to the rear platform. A small, -pathetic figure she seemed to Andy as she strained her eyes toward the -north in a vain hope that she would see Donald. Andy stood in the centre -of the track waving his hat until the flutter of Connie’s little -handkerchief vanished around a curve. - -As the train roared through the cut, the last view of her loved valley -flashed before her eyes. Her face strangely white, she clung to the -brass rail and gazed with tearful eyes at the only home she had ever -known. - -As they passed the trapper’s cabin, the noise of the rushing train sent -Pegasus galloping madly about the pasture. With flying hoofs that tore -up the sod he circled around the field, then came to the fence and with -his beautiful head held high on the arched neck he looked with startled -eyes at the speeding train. - -With a gesture intensely eloquent, Connie flung out her arms. “Good-bye, -Peggy! Good-bye!” She found her way to a seat and covered her face with -her hands. - - * * * * * - -Donald flung himself from the gas-car before it had ceased moving. -“Train gone, Andy?” he shouted. - -Andy stood with arms folded. “Gone?” he yelled, “of course it’s gone. -Why in ’ell wasn’t you ’ere?” - -“I had to go up the line to look over some logs, and the car broke -down,” replied Donald bitterly. - -“Of course,” said Andy with withering sarcasm, “the timber couldn’t ’ave -waited another day.” - -“Andy,” asked Donald excitedly, ignoring the remark, “did Connie leave -you her address?” - -“Why the ’ell should she give me ’er address? ’Aven’t you ’er address?” -was Andy’s unaccommodating reply. - -“No, I haven’t, I know that they are going to England, and that is all.” - -Donald sat down dejectedly. - -Andy’s face softened. “Do you like Connie?” he queried. - -“Like her? I love her!” - -“In that case I don’t see ’ow she didn’t let you know where to find -’er,” puzzled Andy. - -“She doesn’t know that I care for her,” said Donald gloomily. - -Andy’s mouth opened. He seized Donald by the shoulder. “Do you mean to -tell me that you let that girl get away from you without letting ’er -know that you wanted ’er?” he demanded incredulously. “Strike me -’andsome,” blazed Andy, “of all the blinkin’ mutts in this ’ere -world—you—you——” Speech failed him for a moment. “You let that dear -little girl go away broken-’earted. . . .” - -“Andy,” interrupted Donald eagerly, “do you think Connie cares for me?” - -For a moment, as he looked into his friend’s face, Andy was tempted to -tell him of the scene after his fight with Hand. But the promise to -Connie sealed his lips. - -“’Ow the ’ell should I know?” he mumbled. “But,” he added with fine -sarcasm, “if bone was ten cents a cubic foot you’d be a -multi-millionaire, you blinkin’ pie-eyed nincompoop—you—you——” He -clapped a tragic hand to his brow. “You give me a ’eadache,” and -muttering to himself, he trudged up the hill. - -The next day Donald went to Vancouver. He scanned the registers in -hotels, inquired at docks and depots, but no trace of the Wainwrights -could he find. He walked the streets with a forlorn hope that he might -meet them. The hearts of many slender golden-haired girls were set -fluttering that day as a tall, handsome young man subjected them to -close scrutiny. - -Two days later he returned to the lake. That night he switched off the -light and sat by the open window looking out on a night of stars, with a -new moon making a ghostly light on the lake. An owl’s mournful hoot was -answered by the uncanny cry of a heron. The faint sighing sound of -streams in distant gorges became a haunting chorus to this duet. He -thought of Connie’s cabin up the mountain, now cold and dark. How he -would miss her! What an idiot he had been not to have known long ago -that he loved her. He knew now that he had loved her from the first. -Dear little Connie! - -Donald walked the floor until midnight. Once in bed, he tossed -restlessly until the early morning, then fell into a fitful sleep in -which he dreamed of a small, winsome face and big blue eyes surrounded -by a wealth of golden hair. - -September with its days of mellow sunshine passed. October brought heavy -hoar frosts that covered the earth with a robe of diamonds, and formed -ice in the small pools and marshes. Winter comes early in the mountains. -In mid-winter the valleys between the peaks of the Coast Range will have -five feet of snow when, a few hundred feet below, where the warm waters -of the Pacific lap the gentle slopes, the grass is green and there is -none of the chilly whiteness that mantles the towering hills above. - -There came a day in November when the air held a solemn stillness. The -firs and pines pointed straight to the sky without a quiver in their -branches. The brown earth seemed to say, “I am ready.” The cry of the -loon in it had a dreary sound, a note which seemed to say that winter -was coming. Squirrels working in the tops of big pines increased their -efforts. The cones, nipped off by their sharp teeth fell pattering to -the ground, to be garnered by these busy little workers and secreted in -their nests in hollow trees. The bear of the hillsides ate the frozen -berry or the pulp of rotten log to cleanse its stomach before starting -its long winter sleep in windfall or cave. Thus does Nature give to the -wild things of the forest an instinct unknown to man. - -The rush of wings sounded high in air as wild ducks passed in swift -flight on their yearly pilgrimage to the south. Occasionally a flock -would lower in gradually narrowing circles to land with a splash in the -restful waters of the lake, then to stretch tired wings, the while -bobbing their heads and quacking contentedly. Flocks of geese passed in -wedge-shaped formation, their honking coming faintly from a dizzy -height. A flock of Arctic swans, skimming so low that the crisp rustle -of their wings could be heard, landed in the centre of the lake with a -great commotion. There with their beautiful necks proudly arched they -floated like white ghosts throughout the night. The red and yellow -leaves, like gaudy curtains draped the deciduous trees. The wild -crab-apple and high-bush cranberry hung frozen on the naked branches. -The sun was surrounded by a ring and shone weakly through a misty haze. -The unmistakable breath of the north wind was in the air. - -Old John took his traps down from the loft and oiled them. A patch was -found needed on a worn moccasin, and new laces were inserted in his -snowshoes. “Winter’s comin’, ol’ timer, and we’re goin’ to have a heavy -fall of snow,” he mused to himself. For two days Nature gave warning, -then on the second night the storm came. - -A roaring wind came bellowing from the north, lashing the waters of the -lake to foam, tearing at Donald’s cabin with the strength of invisible -giant hands, and howling through the forest with shrieking wails. Gust -came upon gust with increasing strength, and in the short lulls could be -heard the swish of the sleety snow against the windows. - -The big trees creaked as they swayed in the gale, and with a loud groan, -as if in mortal pain, a huge forest monarch, as its roots gave way, fell -crushing down the smaller trees to smite the earth with a resounding -crash. - -The wind went down through the night, but the snow fell steadily. When -Donald opened his door next morning he looked out on a new world. The -wizardry of frost and snow had given the earth a blanket of white that -was eye-blinding in its brilliancy under the bright morning sun. The -keen frost had locked the lake tight under a coating of clear ice. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - -With a fond hope that he would receive word of the Wainwrights, Donald -eagerly awaited the coming of each mail; but after a month of -disappointment he became less sanguine, and threw himself desperately -into work in a vain attempt to allay his heartache. - -During the long winter the mill continued operations in spite of heavy -snows, the roads being kept open by the continual traffic. - -Janet came twice with gay parties to enjoy the ski-ing and snowshoeing. -She found that she loved Donald, and decided that any uncertainty as to -his past was as nothing when weighed against her need of him. Bitterly -she reproached herself for allowing her pride to estrange him from her, -and with all the arts of a beautiful and cultured woman she sought to -regain the power she once held over him. - -On one occasion, when Janet mentioned his “wood-sprite,” she saw a rapt -look in his eyes and caught her breath sharply. The very thought of -losing him stabbed her like a knife-thrust. - -With the coming of March a change came over the earth. Winter shivered -and reluctantly loosed his hold. Gentle showers and warm winds from the -south honeycombed the ice on the lake; snowdrifts faded away, and the -frost-bound soil gave forth earthy odours to replace the keen smell of -the snow. - -One morning a song-sparrow under Donald’s window sent out its sweet -“chip-chip-che-char-che-wiss-wiss,” and from the top of a swaying alder -a wren carolled his joy of living in full-throated tones that said that -spring was here. Stirred by the warmth and cleaving buds, the frogs came -from the mud, where they had lain dormant all winter, and with swelling -throats and bulging cheeks sent out their cheerful “k’tun, k’chunk.” - -Mists covered the lake, and in an open spot near the mouth of the creek -a flock of ducks disported themselves happily. The sun grew higher with -every dawn, gaining strength each day until its warming energy spread -the beauty of colour and fragrance over all. - -One afternoon, when the air pulsated with the song of birds, and -newly-opened buds burdened the atmosphere with perfume, Donald walked up -the hill to Wainwright’s cabin. - -Scores of birds, returned from their yearly pilgrimage to the south, -flitted about the deserted buildings, but there was no golden-haired -girl with a welcoming smile to greet them. Rivulets from the melting -snows had gouged channels in the once neatly kept plots of wild flowers, -and the roof of one of the smaller huts had fallen in. - -Donald pushed open the door of the main building and entered. The air -felt chill and dank. He experienced a quick depression of spirits, and -his heart ached as he surveyed the gloomy interior. He shivered as a -pack-rat scuttled across the floor and disappeared under Connie’s bunk. -With a heavy heart he returned to the bright sunshine, sat down, and -gave himself over to a period of melancholy retrospection. - -His mind went back to his first meeting with Connie, then on through the -many thrilling episodes of the summer. She belonged to high mountains, -to deep forest glades, to companionship with the birds, flowers and -trees of God’s wild outdoors. She would never be content with the bad -air and the cramped conventions of cities. He suddenly remembered the -words she had used that day by the stream near her nest in the cedars. -He seemed to hear her sweet, hesitating voice with its pleasant English -accent. - -“And,” she had said, “six months out of every year I’d come right here -and live in these mountains.” - -“She’ll come back,” he said aloud. The thought cheered him. “She’ll come -back,” he repeated to Andy that night. - -“I ’ope so, Donnie.” - -A week later, Robert Rennie, accompanied by his daughter, arrived at -Summit Lake. The owner was in high spirits. “I am pleased with the -excellent work you are doing here,” he said, as he placed a hand in -friendly fashion on Donald’s arm. “The mill is a success—a huge -success—and I know who deserves the greater share of the credit!” He -smiled up at Donald. “Next week,” he went on, “an event of importance to -the lumber industry takes place. The Government is to entertain a party -of Eastern lumbermen. I will admit that I was proud when the chief -forester called at my office to tell me that this mill had been selected -as the most modern and efficient in the Province, and requested -permission to bring the Government’s guests here. - -“They are to stay here a few days, but you will not be inconvenienced, -as the train will be equipped with dining and sleeping-cars, loaned for -the occasion by the C.P.R. I will come with them, but I am leaving it to -you to arrange for their entertainment and to see that everything is in -tip-top shape for their arrival.” - -As Robert Rennie was leaving the next morning he turned to Donald. “By -the way,” he said casually, “I have decided to add a yearly bonus to -your salary, based on the profits of this mill. I have made it -retroactive from the time you took charge.” Before Donald had time to -express his thanks his employer swung aboard the train. - -Expressing a desire to be at the lake on the arrival of the excursion, -Janet remained. - -On the day set for the visit of the Eastern capitalists the sun rose in -radiant promise of a typical June day. The leaves were now fully -matured, and the willows and maples rustled under the soft, warm winds. -All the valley was clothed in a verdant, quivering, gently pulsating -life. - -The long train drew slowly into the depot. Its occupants poured out -until the small platform was filled to overcrowding. Robert Rennie, -accompanied by a slender man dressed in a tweed suit and cap, pushed his -way through the crowd to Donald’s side. - -Donald greeted his employer, then glanced casually at Mr. Rennie’s -companion. His eyes widened. “Mr. Wainwright!” he gasped. - -Wainwright laughed happily as he wrung Donald’s hand. - -“Is—is Con—Miss Wainwright with you?” stuttered Donald. - -Then he saw her. - -Connie had rehearsed this moment a thousand times. She stood quietly on -the steps for a moment, then slipped gracefully to the platform, Connie -herself could not have imagined how changed she was. From coiffure to -dainty French heels she was dressed as if fresh from the hands of an -expert Parisian costumer. So dazzling was she that she positively took -Donald’s breath away. It seemed to him that she had grown like a magic -rose, all at once from a tiny bud to a full blossom. No fault could be -found with the perfect oval of her face, or with the delicate white rose -skin, from which every trace of tan had gone. The long lashes that -fringed her big blue eyes had turned a shade darker than the curling -waves of her abundant golden hair. - -Andy, whose small form had been hidden in the rear, moved bashfully -forward, fumbling the wide hat held in his hand. “’Ello, Connie,” he -blurted, his lips parted in a wide smile of welcome. - -Instantly Connie forgot her assumed dignity and became her warm, -impulsive little self. With a glad cry she flung her arms about Andy’s -neck and kissed him. - -“Strike me pink!” breathed Andy, as his hand stole up to touch the spot -where Connie’s lips had brushed his cheek. - -Connie turned to face the lake. “Oh, Dad!” she cried in ecstasy, “isn’t -it good to be back here again?” She stretched her arms toward the -ice-clad peaks. A gentle breeze swept down the wooded slope to fan her -face as though in welcome. The blood surged beneath her smooth white -skin and went singing through every vein. “Ah!” she sighed happily, as -she inhaled a deep breath of air laden with the odour of pine from the -hills she loved. Donald, gazing at her hungrily, saw tears brimming -under her long lashes. - -From the far end of the train a tall, grey-haired man assisted a slender -sweet-faced woman to the ground, and then walked towards the station. As -they stepped to the platform the woman’s eyes rested on Donald, who -stood with his back to her. Instantly she became rooted to the spot, -eyes wide, one hand fluttering toward her heart. With the supreme, -wondrous mother-love shining in her eyes, she held out her arms. - -“Donald!” she cried passionately, “Donald!” - -Donald whirled at the sound of the loved voice calling his name. His -heart throbbed wildly, his throat felt constricted and his face paled -under stress of strong emotion. - -“Mother!” - -His arms were around his mother, yearning, tender, hungry, after these -long months of separation. Her face upturned to his was white and drawn, -but her eyes shone with hallowed joy. He felt his hand gripped in his -father’s strong fingers, and saw his eyes shining with tears. John -McLean patted his boy’s dark head with a shaking hand. - -“Donnie! My boy, Donnie!” - -For some time Donald was oblivious to all save the great happiness of -meeting his parents. His mother’s embrace almost unmanned him, and it -was with difficulty that he kept back the sobs that tightened his -throat. - -He led his parents to the other end of the platform and introduced them -to his friends. - -Robert Rennie’s comments were simply gasps and a reiterated, “Well! -Well!” - -Andy offered his usual contribution. “Strike me pink!” he said. - -Connie’s eyes were filled with soft eagerness as she greeted Donald’s -mother. The glow in Donald’s face as he spoke to Connie was poignantly -significant of his deep love for her. But Connie, to his consternation -and dismay, met his ardent glances with a look of cold indifference. - -Since Connie’s arrival Janet’s features held a look of disquietude, but -she acknowledged the introduction to Donald’s parents with a radiant -smile. - -A moment later, Connie, with skirts held high, was running down the -railroad track. - -“Going after her horse,” smiled Wainwright in answer to Donald’s -question. - -“Will you have dinner with us?” invited Donald. - -“Yes, thank you,” responded Wainwright. “We will sleep in the car -to-night,” he continued, “but Constance insists that we must return to -the old home as soon as possible. She has been busy drawing plans for a -chalet she intends building on the bluff.” - -Connie returned with the old trapper, the latter leading Pegasus. - -At dinner Connie showed no signs of her former shyness. She was as -self-possessed, calm and perfectly poised as a goddess. A glad light -filled her eyes as Gillis and his crew of “redshirts” filed into the big -dining-room. She sprang to her feet and greeted them joyfully, shaking -hands with each and everyone. - -“I’m so glad to see you, Jack,” she smiled. - -The big logger took her tiny hand in his. “We’re sure glad to have you -with us agin, Connie.” - -“May I bring Andy in to dine with us, Mr. McLean?” she asked as she came -back to the table. - -Donald nodded assent. She ran gleefully to the kitchen, and a moment -later the loggers grinned broadly as she came through the door leading -the protesting cook by the arm. - -“Now,” she said as Andy sat down, “we’re all here.” She looked about her -and clasped her hands rapturously. “It seems as though I had been gone -for years. And oh, it is so nice to be home again!” She sank to a chair -between Andy and the trapper. “Do you remember, Andy, when you were -dressed as a butler and danced with John at your party?” She threw back -her golden head and her silvery laughter filled the room. - -Janet was unhappy from the moment of Connie’s arrival. She had caught -the look of adoration in Donald’s eyes as Connie stepped to the station -platform. Standing there then she had quite definitely abandoned any -hope of winning him. And Janet had been so sure that once she had held a -place in his heart. A great depression, a great weariness of spirit, -settled upon her. - -That evening, as Donald walked with his parents by the lake-shore, he -turned to his father. “Dad,” he said anxiously, “do you think I have -made good? Will you forgive me for—for——” - -John McLean’s eyes grew suddenly misty. “Donnie,” he began gently, “Mr. -Rennie has told us all about you. And no man could speak more highly of -another.” He drew a newspaper from his pocket. “Haven’t you seen this?” - -It was Vancouver’s morning paper, with a full-page devoted to the visit -of the Eastern lumbermen. There were several photographs of the Summit -Mill and one of Donald. The paper spoke of him as “the able young -engineer whose modern ideas and energy had given to British Columbia a -logging plant and mill that were a credit to the Province.” - -Donald saw the proud light in his father’s eyes, and his heart was -filled with a great peace. - -The next day carpenters and material arrived for the construction of -Wainwright’s new home. That afternoon Connie, clad in fashionable riding -habit, came to the mill office with her foreman to place an order for -lumber. Pegasus in silver-mounted bridle and English saddle was proudly -restive. With neck arched he curvetted and rocked while Connie sat on -his back with that complete lack of self-consciousness that is the -heritage of a born horsewoman. Before leaving she rode up the hill among -the toiling workers, her irresistible smile bringing an answering grin -from the “redshirts,” who doffed their big hats and shouted a joyous -greeting. - -All day pack-horses and men struggled up the hill, staggering under the -weight of building material. But although Donald strained his eyes for a -glimpse of the golden-haired rider, he saw her no more that day. - -As dusk fell over lake and mountain, Donald returned from Wainwright’s -cabin. Andy glanced up expectantly as his friend appeared, but quickly -averted his face as he saw the look of settled melancholy shrouding -Donald’s features. Donald sank disconsolately to a seat outside the -kitchen door. He had found Wainwright alone and wondered if Connie had -purposely absented herself. Her treatment of him since her return -puzzled him sorely and had filled him with a great despondency. As he -rose and walked toward his cabin, Andy gazed after the retreating -figure, eyes filled with compassion, then turned to speak to one of his -helpers in such an irritable tone that the flunkey’s mouth opened in -astonishment. - -For three evenings it was the same. Donald failed to find Connie at -home; nor did she come to the mill. He regretfully decided that it was -no coincidence, but that she was deliberately avoiding him. - -On a Sunday afternoon Andy saw Donald gaze yearningly toward the bluff, -then turn up the trail leading to the dam. - -At Donald’s request Gillis had diverted logging operations to circle the -little oasis in the heavy timber, so that Connie’s sylvan glade still -held its primeval charm and beauty. - -Donald stood for a moment gazing reflectively into the white foam at the -foot of the tiny cataract, then threw himself on the soft bed of moss -and closed his eyes. But this time the fairy spot did not bring the -usual delicious languor to his harassed spirit. Birds sang as sweetly; -flowers filled the air with the same odour; the wind sighed as softly -through the tree-tops, and the small brook still sang its rippling song. -The rapid tattoo of a woodpecker’s bill on a hollow tree jarred his -nerves and he tossed restlessly. - -A cedar tip floated through the air. Blown by the wind, it fluttered in -circles, then landed gently on the hands lying on his chest. His eyes -opened, then, with trembling limbs he came to his feet. - -Connie, clad in faded overalls and cotton shirt, stood on the edge of -the “nest.” Her breast was heaving, her loosened golden hair flying in -the wind. The softness in her blue eyes made Donald gasp, and his heart -thumped as though it were in his throat. - -“Connie!” he cried huskily, “I love you, dear! Don’t you care for me -even a little?” - -She sprang lightly to the ground and came toward him, her arms -outstretched. Tears of joy coursed down her cheeks. “Oh, Donald, Donald, -you big stupid!” she sobbed, “I have been waiting here for you every -day. I—I have loved you always.” - -With a shock of incredible rapture Donald gathered her in his strong -arms, where she cuddled like a weeping child. He kissed her red lips, -her eyes, hair and throbbing throat. “My little Connie,” he said, in a -voice vibrant with feeling, “do you really love me?” He pressed his -cheek to hers and felt the flutter of her long lashes as she pressed the -softness of her own closer. The quick, exquisite indrawing of her -sobbing breath were lovely answering things, and he thrilled to hear her -whisper: “Yes, Donald! Yes, Donald!” - -Andy came walking meditatively up the path, his hands clasped behind -him, his blond head bowed in deep thought. Not finding Donald at the -dam, he walked up the hill to enter the meadow just as Donald clasped -Connie in his arms. For an instant the little Australian stood rigid, -his eyes bulging, then retreated hastily to the shelter of the trees. -Anyone seeing Andy at that moment would have thought him suddenly gone -mad. He whirled about in a wild dance, hugging himself in an ecstasy of -joy. Ceasing his mad gyrations, he dashed his hand across his eyes and -bolted like a runaway down the hill. - -Gillis and his “redshirts” sat sunning themselves on the steps of the -dining-room. They sprang to their feet as Andy came tearing down the -hill. Breathlessly Andy told them of the scene he had witnessed. “We’ll -give them a blinkin’ good reception when they come down,” he panted. He -issued several sharp orders and the men scurried happily to execute his -commands. - -The train that was to carry the excursionists to the Coast was being -made up on the siding. While they were awaiting this, the visitors -watched with curious interest the mysterious preparations being made by -the loggers. - -At this moment, hand in hand, Donald and Connie turned the corner of the -building. As they did so they came to a sudden halt and stared at the -odd scene before them. The men stood in two orderly rows. The ground -between was carpeted with wild flowers, and each logger held a mass of -blooms in his hand. At the far end of this lane of men stood Andy, a -wide smile on his droll face. Connie lowered her eyes in confusion. -Donald shook his fist at Andy. “You little beggar! You are responsible -for this.” - -Andy chuckled. “Come on, Donnie, be a sport,” he coaxed. - -With flushed faces Donald and Connie walked down the aisle, while the -men pelted them with flowers. The crowd of visitors clapped their hands -in appreciation of this beautiful scene. As they neared the end of the -gauntlet, Andy sprang to a stump. - -“Three cheers for the ’appy couple!” he yelled. A roar of cheering -followed. “A tiger!” shouted Andy. And again the air trembled to the -hoarse shout of brawny throats. - -Donald led Connie straight to his mother. “Mother,” he said bashfully, -“meet your future daughter.” - -Quick tears came to his mother’s eyes as Donald made this announcement. -“My dear,” she said tenderly, as her arms folded about Connie, “you are -all love and tenderness.” - -The train’s whistle screeched its warning and the crowd moved down to -the station. - -“Will you be coming home to us soon, Donnie?” asked his father as he was -leaving. Donald looked down at Connie. - -“We’ll visit you on our honeymoon, Dad,” responded Donald happily. He -swept his arm toward the mountains. “I could never leave this. The spell -of the Great West has entered my blood.” - -Janet had spent the afternoon paddling idly on the lake. When she -received the news of Donald’s engagement she concealed the ache in her -heart by an outward air of indifference. The pretence of a headache -enabled her to keep in her cabin and she did not appear for dinner. She -wanted to be alone with her thoughts. - -When the shadows lengthened, Donald and Connie moved slowly along the -path toward the bluff. As they turned a curve in the trail Janet came to -the window of her cabin and stood watching them until they disappeared -from sight. - -Andy, sitting a few feet distant with his back against a tree, noted the -look of despondency on Janet’s face. He came to his feet and walked -slowly toward the kitchen. “As Methusalem said through ’is whiskers, ‘’e -who ’olds ’is ’ead too ’igh will ’t ’is blinkin’ toe.’” - -As the lovers were about to turn up the mountain trail, the trapper -emerged from the woods with his old pack-horse. The cayuse was piled -high with luggage. - -“Where are you going, John?” queried Donald. - -“I’m hittin’ the trail, ol’ timer.” - -“I hope you are not leaving us,” said Connie. - -“Yes, I’m quittin’ the country.” - -“Why?” questioned Donald. - -“Gittin’ too thickly settled. I feel that I ain’t got room to breathe. -I’m goin’ way back into the Cariboo somewhere so’s I kin be by myself.” - -The race of mediæval hermits is not dead. The spirit that led the first -pioneers into the forest guides others there to-day. There are men whose -souls long for a place untamed, who yearn to breathe the wild free air. -They want a home straight from the hands of the Creator, unspoiled by -man. They may be trappers, who brave cold and hardships to clothe milady -in warm furs; they may be prospectors, who search out the hidden gold -for others to use. Whatever they may be, these hardy men blaze the trail -for others to follow. - -When Donald told the trapper of the coming wedding the old man’s eyes -softened. “I’m glad. It’s jest right. I hoped you two would git -married.” He shook hands gravely, then clucked to his horse. - -“Good-bye, Connie! Good-bye, ol’ timer! God bless ye!” he shouted over -his shoulder. - -Donald and Connie stood watching the patient old figure as he trudged -behind his cayuse. At a turn of the trail he stopped and for a long -interval gazed back at the log cabin by the stream, which had been his -home for so many years. He waved his hand in farewell, then horse and -man disappeared from view. - -When Donald and Connie reached the bluff the sun had sunk in the crimson -west, leaving a rich afterglow that spread across the horizon from west -to east, the rich colours merging by slow degrees into that pure -pearl-grey which makes the long and lovely twilight of the British -Columbia mountains. Down on the lake mists were gathering, but in the -upper sky and on the glaciers a vivid orange glow still lingered. The -trees stood stiff and motionless in the quiet air. From afar, subdued -but clear, came the hoot of a blue-grouse, and from mountain gorges came -the faint sighing sound of distant waterfalls. Sweet and pungent odours -of wild flowers came from the woods about them. A star of silver -brilliancy sparkled suddenly out in the sky over the massive snow-clad -peaks. - -“Venus,” whispered Connie. - -Donald’s gaze swept from the camp, nestled at their feet, to the -darkening heavens, to the star of love, then down to the girl by his -side. - -There are moments in the lives of all men—regardless of creed or -religion—when they feel the nearness of God. Such a moment came to -Donald. He uttered no sound, yet his soul was crying out its great -thankfulness. - -Connie sensed his feeling. She bowed her head, her eyes misty with joy -and gratitude. “Oh, God,” she murmured softly, “we thank Thee for Thy -many blessings.” - - THE END - - - - - TRANSCRIBER NOTES - -Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple -spellings occur, majority use has been employed. - -Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors -occur. - -A cover was created for this eBook and is placed in the public domain. - - - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRIMSON WEST *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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